Day 1

Jonathan had just started college and his first semester was only a week old. A slight and sensitive young man of just eighteen, he was a little feminine. His features were Asian and very delicate. He had jet-black hair and black eyes and very fine skin. Apart from the hair on his head, he hardly had a growth of hair anywhere else on his whole body. His arms, legs and chest were smooth and he had never had to shave a single time in his whole life. A little bit of hair grew in his crotch and under his arms, but it was very little. At 5 2" he was quite small and coupled with the fact that both his hands and feet were very small, he was often mistaken for a girl by people who met him for the first time. His voice did little to improve this first impression, as it was very light.

He was on his way to way what had already become his favorite class, Introduction to American Literature. The subject was good, but first and foremost Jonathan liked it because of the teacher, Professor Trenton. Professor Trenton was a large man in every way. He stood 6´7" and had a massive chest and huge arms and hands, like those of a heavyweight boxing champion, not a professor of literature. He was blond and blue eyed and had a smile that had managed to make a large number of students, both female and male, squirm uncomfortably in their now too tight pants. He usually dressed the part of a university professor right down to the tweed jacket, but mostly he looked like a former star athlete.

As for Jonathan, he had not yet come out and in fact he had yet to have a sexual encounter with anything but his right hand. Professor Trenton, however, made Jonathan's heart pound and his pants a size too small. Not only was he terribly attractive, but Jonathan also had a thing for figures of authority. His lonely masturbations were more often than not to fantasies of burly policemen or other stern men taking him more or less by force. Professor Trenton radiated authority and Jonathan desperately yearned for him. Of course he was much too shy to approach him and besides the professor was probably straight anyway. Still, he had fueled Jonathan's sexual fantasies for the past week.

When the class ended Jonathan filed out along with the others. On his way out he had dropped his bag and spilled its contents on the floor and so he was the last to leave the room apart from the professor. As Jonathan made for the door he heard a voice behind him: "Just a minute," the professor said, "I seem to recall that you had an interesting question about the early works of Mark Twain." Jonathan had indeed had a question, but it was a small thing which he had almost forgotten himself and so he made a slightly stuttering non-committal answer. The professor, however, seemed interested: "What's your name?" Jonathan was beginning to get uncomfortable. This close to the professor he was even more attractive and his charm made Jonathan sweat, but he managed to answer: "My name is Jonathan, Professor Trenton." The professor looked Jonathan straight in the eye and smiled at him in such a way that Jonathan felt himself become hard. It was most embarrassing, but Professor Trenton seemed not to notice and instead said: "Well, Jonathan, we should discuss this I think. Come to my office at five thirty and I'll have some answers for you. I just need to look it up." With that he left, not so much asking Jonathan to come to his office as ordering him to do so.

Jonathan was very confused and more than a little excited about Professor Trenton's invitation/order. The question seemed like a pretext, a bad excuse. Jonathan was quite sure that the professor thought the question a little stupid; he had certainly given that impression when Jonathan had first asked it. But still Jonathan couldn't quite believe that the professor had some other agenda in asking Jonathan to his office. Surely he couldn't be gay? Surely he couldn't be hitting on Jonathan on such a thin excuse? The mere thought was almost enough to send Jonathan to the bathroom for a bout of guilty masturbation. He was certainly hard enough and for the rest of the day Jonathan was more than a little distracted.

By five o'clock the most of university buildings were empty and the English department was completely empty when Jonathan turned up for his five thirty appointment. Professor Trenton's office was situated somewhat isolated on the top floor, overlooking the woods behind campus. Shortly after knocking on the door, Jonathan heard the shout: "Come in!" and entered timidly. The professor sat behind a huge desk, reading a book. He looked up at Jonathan and gave him a knowing smile: "Close the door behind you. There's a nasty draught." Jonathan had felt nothing at all as he walked in, but he still closed the door behind him. The office was filled with books and papers, but outrageously neat and orderly. There were no sloppy piles of paper, no dusty bookcases, no forgotten letters in strange places. Considering the amount of books in the office it was a little scary.

In front of the professor's desk was a single chair and Jonathan was directed to sit in it. As he sat down, the professor directed all his attention at him. As Jonathan had expected the answer to the question he had posed in class was trivial and soon out of the way, Jonathan hardly noticing that the professor had answered it and certainly not caring what the answer was. Instead Jonathan was busy basking in the man's undivided attention. It was quite clear that Professor Trenton was interested in him, not the early works of Mark Twain.

In fact the professor was soon grilling Jonathan about his past and his background and Jonathan found himself answering all his questions completely honestly, denying him no information. He told him how his parents were dead and how he had grown up with a distant aunt, an aunt who had died just as he had turned eighteen. He told the professor how he came from a town in another state and that he attended the university on a full scholarship. The professor was also told about the tiny little one-room apartment Jonathan lived in and how he had yet to make any friends in this place. It was as if he had mesmerized him and Jonathan had lost the ability to hide anything from him.

When the professor finished questioning Jonathan, there was a long pause. Jonathan felt somehow drained and relieved at the same time and was trying to muster the courage to ask the professor some of the same questions, when Professor Trenton stood up and walked around to Jonathan's side of the desk. Here he sat on the edge of the desk, regarding Jonathan silently for a few seconds before leaning forward, moving his face closer to Jonathan's. His hand reached out and caressed Jonathan's cheek and he asked: "Have you ever had sex with another man before?" Unable to speak, Jonathan just shook his head, never breaking eye contact with the professor. "How about a woman?" Again Jonathan was only able to shake his head, completely paralyzed by this man who was clearly seducing him. Jonathan was finally having his first sexual encounter with another man, a man whom he had been fantasizing about, and all he was able to do was move his head. Professor Trenton, however, didn't seem to mind. He just smiled and said: "Easy. You don't have to do anything. Just let me take care of it." Paralyzed as he was, Jonathan felt a great wave of gratitude towards the professor for this.

The professor took Jonathan's hand and pulled him to his feet. Even standing Jonathan was completely dwarfed by the other man, towering almost a foot and a half above him. Leaning down the professor then kissed Jonathan ever so gently while letting his hands roam over Jonathan's chest. It was even better than the kisses he had dreamed about and he offered no resistance whatsoever as the professor undressed him. Soon Jonathan stood completely naked in front of the fully dressed professor. He smiled at Jonathan and turned him around so that he now faced away from the desk. His hands now roamed freely all over Jonathan's body and Jonathan couldn't help himself emitted a low moan of pleasure. He reached to return some of the caressing, but never managed to do so. When Jonathan started to move Professor Trenton said: "No you don't. I run the show here. Get your hands behind your head. Now!" Although almost whispered, the words were issued with such force that Jonathan's hands flew up to the back of his head and remained there. He had to admit that he had fantasized about being seduced by men in control and the professor had certainly asserted the control that turned Jonathan on.

Meanwhile the professor's hands had moved to Jonathan's crotch. One hand was gently masturbating his small, but very erect cock, but the other was kneading his balls none too gently. In fact the kneading soon began to turn outright painful as the professor squeezed Jonathan's balls against each other. Very soon Jonathan was trying to beg the professor to stop hurting his balls. Trying, because he couldn't quite get the words out of his mouth. Actually Jonathan was confused as to whether he disliked the pain in his balls at all. It seemed that the combination of pleasure from the gentle masturbation and pain from the rough treatment of his balls was increasing his overall pleasure a great deal and so Jonathan found himself unable to complete his begging for the man to leave his balls alone. Every time he was about to utter a sentence that the professor might understand, his thought were interrupted by a wave of pleasure as the professor's expert touch of both his cock and his balls brought him closer to an orgasm and his words turned to useless croaking and moaning. Still he didn't dare take his hands down and the professor had his way with him. Suddenly he erupted, his cum spewing from him seemingly out of nowhere, his body writhing and twitching as a girlish scream of pure pleasure escaped him. And just as he came, Professor Trenton squeezed his balls especially hard, not only filling his crotch with an unbearable pain but also amplifying his orgasm, turning Jonathan into a twitching, moaning doll being controlled and manipulated by the man holding his genitals. He didn't even think to take down his hands as he twisted and jerked.

When the orgasm was over all too soon, Professor Trenton let go of Jonathan and he collapsed to the floor, his crotch filled with blinding pain and his body with overwhelming pleasure and contentment. As he knelt on the floor clutching his very tender genitals, Jonathan was torn. He had loved what the professor had just done to him, including the violent treatment of his balls, something that surprised him a great deal, but at the same time he couldn't escape the feeling that Professor Trenton was perhaps moving awfully quick. Considering that Jonathan had never had a sexual encounter with another person, it was perhaps more than a little forward for the professor to treat him effectively as some sort of slave.

Professor Trenton, however, seemed not to notice such small matters. Instead he had taken out his cock and now spoke again: "It's time you learned how to give pleasure with your mouth. Get over here and kneel so we can begin the lesson." Again Jonathan felt like he ought to say no, but a combination of the professor's commanding tone and the sight of his magnificent cock changed his mind and like an eager puppy-dog he crawled over to sit on his knees, his eyes at the same height as the professor's crotch.

It was worth it. For the next half hour he was allowed to touch, lick and suck the professor's cock as the man instructed him in how to provide the best blowjob. Professor Trenton began teaching him how to use his tongue best and how to use his hands. Jonathan had dreamed about this moment when a big strong man would introduce him to the secrets of sex and he had dreamed about taking a big fat cock in his mouth since before he had fully realized that he was gay. Kneeling in front of Professor Trenton, sucking his cock made Jonathan's tender cock hard and needy in no time at all.

But to his disappointment the professor would not allow Jonathan to finish the job. Instead he stood Jonathan up, turned him around and ordered him to place his hands on the desk and not move them until told to do so. The direct order made Jonathan shiver with a mixture of apprehension and expectation. Then the professor took a tube of lubricant, which had been lying on the desk the whole time. Jonathan felt a pang of embarrassment when he realized that it had been lying in there right in front of him the whole time, an open declaration of the professor's intent that he had missed.

As the professor moved behind him he also felt a pang of real fear. He had of course dreamed of the moment when he would get fucked, but the thought of having something so large pressed up his ass made him whimper with nerves. He feared that the very well endowed professor could damage him with his tool, even if he lubed up properly.

Getting the professor's cock up his ass was just as painful as he had imagined and by the time he had breached Jonathan's defenses and was pushing into him, Jonathan's mouth was open in a soundless scream and tears had gathered in the corner of his eyes. That wasn't to say that Jonathan didn't like it. Jonathan did like it. He liked is a lot. It was much more painful than he had imagined, having only tried shoving a finger up his ass, but the feeling of fullness, although unpleasant in itself, and the feeling of being taken by the brutal and attractive professor was desperately sexy. Soon he was hard and moaning hard as well. Professor Trenton then started moving his giant cock in and out, beginning the fucking in earnest. Jonathan now moaned to the rhythm of the professor's cock pounding in and out of him.

Once the rhythm had been established, the professor began paying attention to Jonathan's cock. With one hand he began stroking it gently, lifting it up for the ministrations of his other hand. This he used first to knead Jonathan's balls painfully, just as he had done before. The kneading only increased his aroused moaning and Jonathan realized that it had been no coincidence that the professor's abuse of his balls had turned him on before. Even in his highly aroused state Jonathan realized that pain administered to his balls turned him on. It was a very alarming thought and in the back of his head he considered the possibility that pain in general might be a turn-on for him.

The thought was interrupted as he found himself screaming in pain. The professor had brought his hand down in a vicious blow to Jonathan's balls and the pain was very bad, making his knees buckle. But the pain was good too, very good, and Jonathan's scream continued and changed pitch as he came in a fabulous orgasm, his jism shooting out of his cock as the pain shot up through him from the center of his crotch. As Jonathan jerked under the powerful influence of the pain-induced pleasure, the professor kept him on his feet by keeping up his fucking and by holding on to Jonathan's bruised genitals. Finally, as Jonathan's orgasm was ebbing away, the professor came, shooting his load up Jonathan's ass. When the fucking was over Professor Trenton released Jonathan, allowing him to collapse on the floor, clutching his sore balls.

Rest was not what the professor had in mind for Jonathan, however. Standing over Jonathan the professor issued his command: "Get up on your knees, you little shit!" A submissive thrill ran through Jonathan as he got up on his knees, not daring to disobey. It surprised him somewhat that being bossed around by the professor turned him on a great deal, but considering his sexual fantasies he realized that it shouldn't. Being taken more or less by force had always been a staple of his erotic fantasies.

And now they were coming true. Kneeling in front of the professor, his crotch very tender and beginning to swell up, he found himself looking up at his face with adoration. Seeing this, the professor smiled down in return. "Good boy," he said and patted Jonathan's head. This made Jonathan's heart swell with pride and primed him for the task the professor had for him. He indicated his still half-erect cock, smeared with his own cum and Jonathan's shit and said: "Clean it." There was no doubt that he meant for Jonathan to perform this disgusting task with his mouth and he recoiled. Eating cum was one thing, but shit? The professor would tolerate no hesitation or disobedience and quickly slapped Jonathan's face with surprising brutality: "Get cracking boy!" he shouted and Jonathan, his face stinging from the blow, knew that he had no choice. It was disgusting, but he had to do it. The professor's cock was slimy and smelled really bad, but Jonathan began licking it clean, just as he had been ordered. When he had swallowed the first of the cum and shit mixture, the professor commanded him to look him in the eye and smile as he cleaned his cock. It was very humiliating, but Jonathan obeyed and while licking the professor clean he looked him in the eye, keeping an adoring smile on his face. Shaming him further he felt his battered cock stirring at the treatment.

When the professor's cock was nice and clean, Jonathan swallowed and kissed his cock before removing his head from the professor's crotch thinking himself through with the humiliations. But of course he was wrong. As the professor zipped up his pants he had one more order for Jonathan: "Now your own cum." There could be no doubt that he meant the cum Jonathan had spilled on the floor, just as there could be no doubt that he meant for Jonathan to use his tongue again.

This time he knew better than to hesitate or express revulsion and he quickly sought out the spots he had left on the floor. It was by no means delicious, but since it was only cum and he had already cleaned the professor's disgusting cock, it was much easier this time. Soon he sat at the professor's feet, again looking up at him with genuine adoration. The professor noticed this and again said those magic words: "Good boy."

He then had Jonathan dress and sit at his feet. Jonathan looked up at him. "You are of course mine now", he said, making Jonathan shiver with the submissive thrill, "and I will treat you as my property. From now on you will come to office every day at five o'clock and soon you will also come to my house in the weekends. You have much to learn and I will not tolerate anything but perfection. Understood?" It was by no means clear what it was that he was supposed to learn or at what he was expected to be perfect, but Jonathan nodded nonetheless. The soundless response was not what the professor had in mind and he promptly slapped Jonathan so hard that he fell over on his side: "I didn't hear you slave!" he shouted at the shocked figure in front of him, "you will address me properly. Understood?" Jonathan was indeed shocked and scared, but fumbling for the words he stuttered what he thought the professor wanted him to say: "Yes Master." It was obviously what he was after as he smiled down at Jonathan and said: "Good. Five o'clock tomorrow then. Get out."

Jonathan scrambled to his feet and almost ran for the door. He had never been shocked, scared or aroused in his life and standing with the closed door behind him he realized what he had just agreed to. He had in effect agreed to be Professor Trenton's slave! He had called him "Master" and done everything he was ordered to and not only that. He had liked it!

Jonathan had always imagined that he would first come out and try some gentle sex before trying out the rough stuff, just to see what it was about. But now he found himself in a Master/slave relationship straight away, perhaps even discovering that he was a pain-slave. It was too much and he almost ran back to his tiny apartment close to campus. Here he went straight to bed and tried to sleep, figuring it was the best way to deal with what he had experienced. It occurred to him that a bath would also be a good idea, but found that the smell of sex still on his skin was too precious to wash off. Instead he lay down under the covers and tried to sleep. But no matter how he tried, he couldn't fall asleep as his thoughts kept returning to the rough sex and the humiliating treatment afterwards.

And then he realized why he had run for the bed. It was not to sleep, but to masturbate. With the realization Jonathan's cock sprang into action and soon he couldn't help himself, but jacked off wildly.

After he had cum, soiling himself and the sheets, he was overcome with guilt. He should be having ordinary sex, not this S&M stuff, be with a nice guy and not with someone who made him lick off a mixture of semen and shit.

His crotch told him otherwise as he felt the pain from yet another brutal kneading of his balls, this time performed by himself. Thinking of this made him horny all over again and this time he craved an intrusion into his ass. Rummaging through his small kitchen, he found the only thing approximating a goodly sized cock: the handle of his only frying pan. It wasn't long before he lay in bed, the handle of the frying pan shoved in as far as it would go, while he masturbated frantically while abusing his balls.

Interrupted by short bouts of guilt-filled rest, this continued for the rest of the evening until Jonathan fell asleep with the handle still in his ass and his lower body smeared in his own cum.

Day 2

The next morning Jonathan felt horrible, filled with guilty feelings about his own behavior and the fact that he in effect agreed to be Professor Trenton's slave. A slave! It was horrible and wrong. And yet the thought again provoked a stirring in his crotch, but this time Jonathan rebelled against it, resisting the urge to masturbate. Determined to get back to a normal life, he ignored his cock and sat up in preparation to leave bed. Or rather he tried to sit up, because the minute he tried it he felt the intruder in his ass, the handle of his frying pan, preventing him from doing so. A wave of arousal swept over him briefly until he managed to get it under control. Ignoring his stiff, little cock begging for attention, he pulled the frying pan's handle out of his ass. Unable to control it, a moan of lust and pain escaped him and when it had left his ass the predominant feeling was one of loss. It was like his ass missed the handle filling him up.

Jonathan, however, was determined to ignore his guilty urges and get on with his life. He quickly washed the frying pan (taking his time caressing the handle as he washed the shit off) and ate breakfast after showering, washing off the cakes of congealed cum on his stomach. All of his sheets went straight into the dirty clothes hamper and he almost ran out the door to make it to the first lecture.

Jonathan felt like he was a step behind the whole day. For the first time in ages he hadn't prepared for the lectures and as such was reduced to sitting mute, passing on the few questions directed at him.

But it didn't matter, because he felt that he had successfully laid the nasty, dirty and demeaning experience of his sex with the professor behind him and that he could now start a normal sex life. The encounter with the professor had been gratifying but brutal and it was now time to move on. He was determined that it should be so and their scheduled five o'clock meeting was the perfect opportunity to tell the professor. Respectfully, but with determination, he would tell the professor: "Thank you, but no thank you!"

Jonathan carried this determination with him the whole day. At five he stood outside the professor's door knocking, his determination unwavering. Upon hearing the professor's call to enter, he did so, shutting the door behind him. Looking up from his reading with an evil smile, the professor immediately gave an order: "Get over here and suck my cock." Jonathan fought the urge to obey without question and instead said: "I'm very sorry Professor Trenton, but I have to say no to that." The professor eyed him suspiciously, but did nothing as Jonathan continued: "Yesterday was a huge experience, but I'm more interested normal sex, not S&M. I'm sorry."

To this the professor had no response, sitting silently watching Jonathan for a few minutes. As time went by Jonathan began feeling distinctly uncomfortable, but the professor did nothing to make him feel better. Finally, when Jonathan was just about to begin talking again, just to provoke some sort of response from him, the professor got up. Looking strangely distracted he walked around to Jonathan's side of the desk, standing with his side to Jonathan and looking out the window.

Jonathan was just starting to feel a little bad for him, when he turned towards Jonathan with a truly astonishing speed. With a look of fury on his face he slapped Jonathan with such force that he was thrown across the floor. Before he had any chance to recuperate, the professor was on him, first slapping his face hard several times in a row and then holding him by the throat. Seeing Professor Trenton's furious face almost pressed against his own scared Jonathan so badly that he pissed in his pants. He whimpered with shame as he felt the warmth spread across his lap, but this did nothing to abate the anger of the professor who spat at him: "Get undressed, now!"

Still whimpering with fear, his face stinging from the vicious blows that the professor had delivered, Jonathan undressed as quickly as he could. Calling for help or trying to run didn't even cross his mind as the professor had paralyzed it with fear. Once his clothes were off, the professor cleared the top of his desk and threw Jonathan face down on it. Moving much faster than Jonathan had imagined possible, he tied Jonathan up. His legs were tied to the legs of the desk on the front side of this, his feet resting on the floor. His arms were tied to the legs on the other side of the desk, forcing him to lie across the surface of the desk, his head right over the spot where Professor's Trenton's crotch would be, had he been sitting at his desk.

The professor knelt down in front of the terrified slave boy and said: "You do not have a choice in this matter. You are mine and will remain so until I tire of you and sell you to someone else." Even in his terrified state this made Jonathan open his mouth object. The response was swift and brutal, the professor delivering a long series of vicious slaps to Jonathan's face. With Jonathan now crying openly, the professor continued: "I don't care what you think or want. You are a slave now. And don't try to deny it; you've wanted this all along." With these words, he shoved Jonathan's own underpants, sopping with urine, into his mouth and fastened them there with a bit of string. Having thus gagged his slave with soiled underwear, the professor removed his leather belt in full view of an ever more terrified Jonathan and moved behind him. But as Jonathan waited for the belt to start hitting him, he instead felt the professor's hand touching his genitals ever so gently. "So you don't like it, is that right?" the professor asked Jonathan. Not expecting an answer he went on: "Then how come you are rock-hard, like a little he-bitch waiting impatiently for a nice, hot spanking?"

The professor was right and although Jonathan had tried to tell himself otherwise, he was harder than oak and it felt like his whole body was waiting impatiently for the professor's abuse. It didn't have to wait for long. With a brutality Jonathan could never have guessed, the professor launched a furious beating, covering most of the back of Jonathan from his calves to his shoulder blades. Most of the attention was of course directed at his ass, but no part of him was spared.

It was far, far worse than he had expected. Far more painful and far more demeaning and humiliating to be whipped like the completely powerless slave that he now was. It was also far, far more arousing than he could ever admit. Even as the professor whipped him and tears ran down his face while he cried like he had never cried before, Jonathan felt his cock stirring, telling him that he wanted this, that he needed this. Even more humiliating was the growing need Jonathan felt to get fucked again. Through his revolting gag and his own desperate sobs he tried begging the professor: "Fuck me. Please fuck me."

After what seemed like forever, the professor finally did. Lubing his cock up as the only consideration to Jonathan's well-being, he rammed his cock so hard up his ass that all the air was pressed out of Jonathan's lungs in a huge moan. The fucking was long and brutal and although it hurt him very much, making him cry with pain and humiliation, Jonathan loved every second of it. After only a few minutes of vicious slamming, the professor found Jonathan's sweet spot. Every stroke that the professor's cock made took Jonathan higher until finally he came, a massive orgasm rolling over him. Screaming and thrashing, desperately trying to tell himself that he really hated this, he rolled with the orgasm, shooting his load on the professor's desk. Not long after the professor came, screaming profanities at his slave boy while letting the belt rain down blows on Jonathan's back. As the professor withdrew, his cock leaving his ass with a small but audible "pop", Jonathan moaned with lust and regret. In a state where it was hard to deny what he was, almost impossible to lie to himself that he didn't want this, he wanted only for the professor to fill up his ass with his magnificent tool.

After leaving Jonathan's ass, the professor came around to his head. Presenting his cock to his still gagged slave boy, it wasn't hard for Jonathan to figure out what would be asked of him once the gag was removed. A minute later Jonathan, who had uttered not a single sound of protest and who had not hesitated one second, was licking the professor's cock clean from the mixture of semen and shit that covered it. From his uncomfortable vantage point he even tried looking adoringly up at the professor, in a futile attempt to placate him.

Professor Trenton did not seem impressed with his disobedient slave boy. Once his cock was clean he sat down and ordered Jonathan to start sucking his cock. Again there was not even a hint of hesitation in Jonathan's actions. He had liked sucking cock from the very start, but his swift compliance was motivated primarily by an almost overwhelming fear of punishment at the hands of the professor.

While he attended to his cock, the professor instructed Jonathan in how to perform a good blowjob, constantly correcting his technique. He also repeated to Jonathan just what he was to the professor: a slave, a mere object. He stressed that any form of disobedience, any at all, would result in punishment and that he expected absolute and immediate compliance with his orders from Jonathan's side.

As Professor Trenton spoke Jonathan realized that he was trapped, perhaps hopelessly. Trapped by not only the professor's brutality, but also by his own lust. He wanted this, no matter what he told himself. Jonathan, however, also realized that getting what you want is not always a good thing and that he would have to come up with a plan for escaping the professor, because there could be no doubt that he was serious when he said that he would keep him until he tired of him and then sell him. If Jonathan stayed with the professor he could kiss all hopes of a free life goodbye. Being dominated from time to time would be great, but the prospect of a lifetime of slavery, no matter how arousing, could not be a good thing.

While thinking this Jonathan diligently sucked the professor's cock, obeying every letter of his instructions. When he finally came, after what seemed like hours of hard work from Jonathan, he held on to Jonathan's head forcing him to take the whole load into his mouth. However, it came too fast for him to cope with and a large part of if spilled out of his mouth and into the professor's lap. This did not sit well with the professor who shouted yet another volley of abuse at him while slapping his face repeatedly, before moving once again to Jonathan's rear where he launched another furious whipping. Jonathan's ass was very tender having had less than half an hour to recover from the previous beating, but that didn't stop the professor from really leaning into the blows. In fact it seemed that the sound of Jonathan's screams from his now ungagged mouth, only spurred him on and soon Jonathan was reduced to screaming babbling wreck, begging for forgiveness from his owner.

When it was over it took Jonathan a few seconds to realize that the beating had stopped, so sore was his ass. Panting slightly with the exertion the professor stopped and listened to the sweet sound of his slave sobbing softly. Breaking in a new slave was always a pleasure and Jonathan was certainly one of those slaves whose mere presence cried out for a beating. There was something irresistibly tempting about him that begged for abuse and Professor Trenton was sure that he was the man to do it. Jonathan might even grow to like it, there was much suggesting that he already did, but really Professor Trenton didn't care. He would have him as his pain slave no matter what.

Hanging down between his outstretched legs and pressed up against the front of the professor's desk, Jonathan's genitals were perfectly exposed from where the professor stood. The slave boy's sobs had quieted down a little and the professor could feel how a fresh need for punishing the boy was manifesting itself.

Without a single sound of warning to Jonathan the professor's heavy leather belt fell on his genitals. The pain was unbelievable and Jonathan screamed until his face was red and he had run out of air. Just then the second blow fell, almost making him faint as he tried to scream with empty lungs. He had just managed to inhale when the third blow struck. After that the blows came hard, heavy and regularly, reducing Jonathan to a gurgling mass of pain close to outright panic.

But however much pain the blows inflicted on him, Jonathan had to admit that the pain in his genitals was also good. Very good. Not in spite of, but because of the almost unbearable pain it was causing his cock and balls, Jonathan began feeling aroused in a way and with an intensity like he had never felt before. After a few minutes Jonathan's screams had become screams of both pain and passion and his cock was hard as rock and twitching with lust. When the professor saw this, he stepped up the intensity of his beating until Jonathan's screams signaled the onrush of an unstoppable orgasm. He stepped back and with the words: "Let's get it all out," he kicked Jonathan's exposed and needy genitals - hard.

Jonathan's scream was earsplitting, but nowhere near as powerful as his orgasm. It was the best Jonathan had ever experienced, filling both his body and mind and blanking all other thoughts until he fainted from the sheer intensity of the orgasm.

Professor Trenton was impressed. The boy really was a pain slave and clearly loved getting his genitals abused. While he slowly regained consciousness, the professor removed his bonds and threw him on the floor where he woke up shivering. Looking up at the professor his expression clearly revealed all the conflicting emotions coursing through him: the realization of what he was, the strong desire to run away and be "normal" and the strange and involuntary affection he was starting to feel for the cruel man standing above him.

It was also quite clear that the poor slave boy had never been in so much pain. Jonathan's body screamed pain. The welts on his body were staring to swell to their full size and his genitals were well on their way to becoming bigger and far more tender than he had thought possible. Staring up at the professor, now his owner, Jonathan dared neither move nor speak. He simply lay in silence waiting fearfully for what the professor would do next.

"Clean up your mess," came the order and Jonathan quickly and dutifully licked his own cum from the floor and the front side of the professor's desk. Finished with this task he sat quietly waiting for new orders. Seeing his control over the slave boy made the professor horny again and soon Jonathan was sucking his cock again. It was over soon and this time he actually managed to swallow all of it, even if he almost gagged on it.

After the blowjob the professor had had enough and Jonathan was sent on his way. Not without a parting present though. Before he left the professor stuffed Jonathan's own soiled underwear into his mouth and instructed him not to remove it before he got home. Tears of humiliation in his eyes, Jonathan nodded and got up to leave. Only to be slapped back to the ground as the professor instructed him that the only way Jonathan was allowed to move in the professor's office was by crawling. Thus corrected Jonathan crawled sobbing into the mercifully empty hallway, shutting the door behind him before getting up. Putting on his clothes almost made him faint with pain and he was strangely grateful for the urine soaked gag stifling his screams. Especially putting on his pants proved nearly impossible. Jonathan had long favored fairly tight-fitting jeans, always enjoying the way they made his tight little ass look. Now pulling them up his beaten legs and his impossibly swollen genitals was pure torture, making him scream with pain one again. When they were finally on Jonathan felt the most unwelcome sensation of his cock once again being stiff from the pain that had been inflicted.

Jonathan cried with shame and humiliation the whole way home, but he managed to keep the underwear in his mouth a secret from the other people in the street by looking down for most of the time. Removing them before being allowed to was out of the question.

Once he got home, he took a shower and went straight to bed, being very careful to lie on his stomach, as his back was far too badly beaten to lie on. No position, however, could relieve the pain in his genitals, which filled his whole body with a dull, almost unbearable ache. Before going to bed he had placed a bag filled with ice on them to ease the pain, making him shiver uncontrollably with cold in the process, but now the ache had returned and nothing seemed to be able to make it go away.

Day 3

It was almost morning before he finally fell asleep and when the alarm clock rang, the jolt it caused in his body made him scream with pain. Staggering, he made his way to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. That his body was covered in huge welts that were turning from red to blue was no real surprise and neither was the fact that his cock and balls had swelled to nearly three times their normal size and turned blue in the process. But that his face was so swollen and bruised was a nasty surprise. In all the other beatings Jonathan had completely forgotten how much the professor had slapped him around.

Looking at his reflection it was clear to Jonathan that he had to remain indoors at least for the day. He looked like he had been assaulted and beaten badly, which of course wasn't far from the truth. Again the thought that getting what you wanted not always being a good thing surfaced and it occurred to him that he ought to go to the police and get the professor arrested for beating and raping him. This thought was immediately followed by thoughts of what the professor would do to him if he did go to the police. It was enough to make Jonathan loose bladder control and whimper with fear and after cleaning the bathroom floor he abandoned the idea, thinking that there had to be a way to escape the evil professor without going to the police.

For the rest of the day, lying in bed, Jonathan thought about this in between frantic, guilty bouts of intense masturbation.

Right after lunch his cell phone rang. Jonathan didn't really know anyone and was genuinely puzzled as to who it could be. It was the professor and when he heard his voice Jonathan involuntarily fell to his knees in submission. Professor Trenton had noticed Jonathan's absence at his lecture and while he understood why his slave chose not to show his face in class, he also wanted Jonathan to know that this was no excuse for staying away from his five o'clock appointment at the professor's office. An almost senseless babbling Jonathan assured his owner that he would turn up. Satisfied the professor hung up, but not before telling Jonathan to stop playing with himself. This made Jonathan cry as he realized that he had been masturbating to the sound of his cruel owner's voice without even thinking about it.

Jonathan was trapped and he knew it. He had to go to the professor's office and he wanted to go too. He knew that going would not be good for him, far from it, but not going was out of the question. He would just have to conceal his bruised face and try putting on loose clothes so as not to irritate the welts healing on his bruised body.

The walk to the professor's office was mercifully uneventful, but Jonathan felt distinctly circumspect wearing a jacket with the high collar turned up, sunglasses and a baseball cap.

After hearing the professor's shout that he could come in, Jonathan was very careful to get to his knees in the hallway and to crawl in, shutting and locking the door behind him. Seeing this, the professor chuckled evilly but said nothing as the already terrified slave boy crawled over to sit in front of the professor. As he removed the jacket, sunglasses and baseball cap, the professor noticed the clothes that Jonathan was wearing. He was not pleased. Not pleased at all. First delivering two vicious slaps to Jonathan's face he shouted: "Useless bitch! Never wear loose clothes unless I specifically tell you to! Slave boys wear tight clothes, revealing their useless little slut bodies. Understood?"

The suddenness and ferociousness of the attack made something snap in Jonathan. He had been so scared of doing something wrong, something that would anger the professor, and now he had done something that did anger him straight away. He broke down and began to cry inconsolably, babbling out his excuses to the professor, trying to beg forgiveness. Professor Trenton instantly recognized what had happened. He had managed to break Jonathan and he had done it so very quickly. The trick was now to use the situation to enforce in Jonathan's mind his status as a slave. He had to be made to realize that he was nothing but a useless slave, that he had no rights and that it was for his own good that the professor owned him. Jonathan had to know that he was inferior to everyone else. This would not be achieved right away, but this had the potential to be a good start.

Still shouting at the crying slave boy, the professor ordered him to undress. Having done this as fast as he could, Jonathan then sat sobbing at the feet of his owner. Taking Jonathan's chin in his hand and forcing him to look into his eyes, the professor explained patiently to Jonathan what he was, that he must know what a worthless piece of slave flesh he was, that he was better off in every way being owned and that he had to work constantly to prove his devotion to his owner.

The almost kind and caring tone from the professor touched Jonathan deeply. Maybe the professor was right. Maybe he, Jonathan, was nothing but a useless slave boy and maybe it was all for the best that he was being treated so harshly by the professor. If so, all the professor's abuse, all the brutal beatings and fuckings, had been done out of caring and this touched Jonathan so very deeply, making him cry anew. He now cried because he had been behaving so very badly towards a man who only wanted the best for him, who understood what he was and knew that worthless slaves like Jonathan should be beaten into submission - for their own good.

He also realized that saying this is not enough. He had to prove it to the professor. In a flash he realized what he must do and with a quivering voice he asked the professor to please punish him. He knew he has been bad and must be punished for it. Sneaking a hopeful glance at the professor, he saw the cruel man smile at him before answering: "I think that today it would be best if you punished yourself, proved to me and to yourself that you can behave correctly." The words made Jonathan both happy and confused. Happy that his owner had approved, at least partially of his offer and confused as to how he is to do it himself. The professor cleared up his confusion by telling Jonathan how he must punish himself and Jonathan was thrilled and scared when he heard the orders.

Soon Jonathan knelt in front of the professor, his left hand holding up his genitals with his right hand his held high, posed to strike his exposed genitals. At the professor's command he brought down his hand with as much force as he dared. The pain from his bruised genitals was very bad, but not nearly enough for the professor. Scolding Jonathan he told him to do it much harder next time. So Jonathan did it again. This time harder. It was still not hard enough for the professor, who told Jonathan that he thinks that he is pulling his punches. So he tried again. And again. And again, until the professor was pleased with the force of the blows. Jonathan's balls were screaming with pain and Jonathan was crying, gurgling with pain from his beaten balls. But it wasn't over. The professor finally pleased with the force of the blows, the punishment could begin. He ordered Jonathan to start hitting his balls and keep hitting them until told otherwise. Without hesitation Jonathan obeyed and started beating his balls. Soon a high-pitched keening could be heard from Jonathan's mouth, a keening of pain, fear and contrition that he was unable to control.

At the tenth blow Jonathan for the first time noticed how hard and aroused he was. Once again a beating of his balls was turning him on and he looked at the professor for help and guidance. What was he to do? He couldn't very well cum while being punished, could he? Professor Trenton knew exactly what was happening and smiled at the slave: "If you punish yourself hard enough, you can cum. So you'd better punish yourself as hard as you possibly can." The words filled Jonathan with love for his owner and he increased both the force and the frequency of his beating. Soon he was completely lost in a haze of pain and lust, frantically whacking away at his poor balls as his arousal mounted and he shot his load, his keening turning to a gurgling scream of pain. Again the orgasm was fantastic as was the pain, and he collapsed in a heap at the professor's feet, cupping his damaged genitals as he whimpered with pain.

Professor Trenton was most pleased, although Jonathan would never know it. Not only had the boy almost been broken, but he was undeniably turned on by pain, especially pain delivered to his balls. And the professor was very fond of administering pain in just that area, a sport he had been practicing for a long time.

The professor bent down to his slave and said: "Good boy," making Jonathan cry with gratitude.

Then the professor picked up Jonathan and made him stand with his hands held over his head, his back to the still sitting professor. Complying instantly Jonathan was filled with gratitude for the professor and when he felt him lubing up his ass, his heart began to race with joyful anticipation. Feeling the professor's strong hands grabbing his hips, he let the professor guide him until he felt the tips of the professor's cock pressing against his asshole. With a groan of pain and joy he was pressed down on the sitting professor's cock and while still holding his hands on his head, he was instructed in how to move his ass and body to provide the maximum amount of pleasure for the professor. The slow but insistent fucking was good for the professor, but it was certainly not unpleasant for Jonathan. Soon he was moaning with passion, the pain of having his ass stretched completely forgotten as he rode the professor's gorgeous cock. His only regret was that he couldn't manipulate his needy member. However, that proved unnecessary as the professor once again found Jonathan's sweet spot and after only a few strokes more, the pressure from the professor's cock against his insides made Jonathan cum, emitting a high-pitched, almost girlish, scream as he shot his load. Not long after the professor came as well and true to form it wasn't long before Jonathan was licking clean his cock, this time with real devotion shining out of his eyes as he swallowed the professor's load after a very long blowjob.

Looking down at his slave boy, the professor smiled and said: "Good boy," again making Jonathan swell with pride. The thoughts of how he had to escape from the professor and how what you wanted wasn't always good for you, had been muted down until he almost couldn't hear them in his mind. As he basked in the warm glow of his owner's praise and two glorious, if rather painful, orgasms, the voice telling Jonathan that he had to find a way to escape this evil man before it was too late, was just a little whisper at the back of his mind.

"It's time for you to go home," the professor said to Jonathan, "but before you go I have few instructions and a couple of presents." Jonathan's heart skipped a beat at the mention of presents. Surely these had to be painful, didn't they? Not caring about Jonathan's reaction, the professor went on: "First of all you will continue to turn up here at five o'clock, even if you are still too bruised to show you face on campus. Secondly, I will not tolerate my slave wearing loose fitting clothes. No matter how bruised, battered and swollen you are, you will wear your tightest jeans and yours smallest T-shirt, is that understood?" Jonathan indicated that he had indeed understood and began a new round of apologies, which the professor promptly cancelled.

"Now for the presents," he continued with a little wicked smile. "This you will have in your ass at all times, unless you have to go to the bathroom or I am fucking you." He presented Jonathan with a long, but still quite fat, butt plug. With it came a tube of lubricant, which Jonathan was sure was going to be necessary. This proved entirely correct when the professor ordered him to shove it into position. Of course Jonathan complied at once and after a bit of groaning, the butt plug was in place, leaving Jonathan to squirm from its fullness until told to stop by the professor.

The professor's second present was contained in what looked like a shoebox. And it did, somewhat to Jonathan's surprise, actually contain shoes, although not the kind Jonathan was used to. Inside the box lay a pair of high heeled shoes. Shiny, black pumps with six-inch stilettos, the kind almost exclusively worn by women. Jonathan looked up at the professor in surprise, but said nothing. "Yes, it's a pair of shoes for you to wear. I like my little bitch to wear stilettos. They work wonders for the bitch's posture and walk. Put them on and stand up."

Having no choice but to comply, Jonathan put the shoes on. Even on feet as small as his own, the stilettos were very small, too small, hurting his feet. As cautiously as possible Jonathan mentioned this to the professor. To his surprise the professor did not get mad at this objection. Rather he seemed pleased: "Good. Small feet are attractive and a slave should never be entirely comfortable. Now walk for me." Thus defeated Jonathan began parading around the professor's office.

Walking in the stilettos was not only painful for his feet, but also surprisingly difficult. Keeping his balance was quite hard and he stumbled ungraciously around the professor's office, trying to find the trick to walking in them. Maybe there was a trick, but the professor didn't really care for shortcuts for his slave. What he cared about was hard training for his slave and so he made Jonathan walk in endless circles or back and forth until he gradually got the some feeling for how it should be done. The tips and training from the professor consisted entirely in annoyed shouts accompanied by hard blows from his leather belt. When Jonathan stumbled and fell about half an hour into the training, Professor Trenton stormed over to the prone slave, raining blows from the leather belt down on him and reducing him to a tearful, broken wreck. Seeing his slave thus made the professor horny again and in no time he held Jonathan by his hair, fucking his face furiously. He fucked Jonathan's face deep and hard, making him retch and cough, setting a pace that made it difficult for Jonathan to breathe. When he shot his load Jonathan only just managed to swallow it all, avoiding punishment narrowly.

The training continued and Jonathan's already bruised body was given a brand new set of welts on top of the old ones, only this time the professor also covered his front with them. Belying his screams for mercy and abject apologies was Jonathan's cock, having once again risen to the occasion, proving him a hopeless pain slave.

When the training was finally over, the professor moderately pleased, he rewarded Jonathan by making him stand with his hands above his head and his legs spread wide. Standing like that the professor whipped Jonathan's exposed genitals, already very swollen and tender, until he came with a girlish shriek of pleasure and pain. When the professor saw Jonathan's orgasm begin, his pre-cum making his cock glisten, he stepped back and kicked Jonathan in the balls so hard that Jonathan's feet actually lifted from the floor. The result was more pain than Jonathan had thought possible from just one place on his body and an orgasm that was equally powerful and as his cum shot out over the professor's floor Jonathan shrieked loudly and collapsed in a now almost familiar heap, cupping his damaged yet satisfied genitals. The pain was worse than ever before and so was the sudden rush of devotion he felt for his owner, who was willing to do this for him

After a minute the professor decided that Jonathan had had enough rest and ordered him to lick the floor clean. Having finished this, Jonathan was once again reminded of their appointment the next day and escorted to the door. Professor Trenton gave Jonathan his jacket, his wallet and his keys back, but kept all his other clothes.

Closing the door he told Jonathan goodnight and that he had better not remove any of his items of clothing before he got home. Then he shut the door, leaving Jonathan in the hallway. Briefly and hysterically, Jonathan wondered which items of clothing he could be talking about. Jonathan was only wearing his jacket, reaching no further than his waist, and his new stilettos. The butt plug was of course still in place and although it technically wasn't as piece of clothing, Jonathan had no doubt that the professor's words covered that too. This meant that Jonathan had to walk home wearing a jacket not even capable of covering up his lower body, which was again sporting a very prominent erection on one side and the fat end of a butt plug on the other. And he had to do it in stilettos.

Jonathan's mind was briefly clouded with near-panic, before he willed himself to go. After all he had no choice. Luckily it was very late, the professor once again having subjected him to hours of hard training, and there were practically no one in the street. Practically no one. Just one block from his apartment a woman came straight at him. She was the first person he had met since laving the professor's office and he spotted her when she was less than twenty yards away. Jonathan stopped dead in his tracks and for a second he considered trying to hide. But not only was there nowhere to hide, it was also clear that she had already spotted him.

As she walked under the streetlamp right in front of him, Jonathan could see that she was a woman in her mid-fifties, trim and fit and wearing an obviously expensive black business suit. On her feet were black stilettos remarkably like the ones he wore, except that she walked very elegantly in them. She stopped under the light and waited for Jonathan to come into the light so that she could see him properly. When he hesitated she called out to him: "Get over here boy! Let me see you properly." With a defeated whine Jonathan stepped into the light where he could see the woman smiling wickedly at him. "Take of your jacket, you little swine. It's not as if it covers anything anyway." Jonathan wanted to object, after all she wasn't his owner and he was under no obligation to obey her, but the long and brutal sessions at Professor Trenton's had beaten the fighting spirit out of him and he docilely handed over his jacket and stood completely naked in front of the woman. First she studied his front and after making him turn around with only a wave of her hand, she took in the damage to his backside. She grunted approvingly and had him turn around and face her. "Master or Mistress?" she asked him and Jonathan whispered that his Master had done this, for the first time uttering the proper word for the professor. "He's done a fine job, your master has," she said and unbelievably Jonathan felt himself swell with pride that she though his owner a good master. While she spoke she had removed Jonathan's keys and wallet from his jacket, which she now threw unceremoniously in a trashcan. Rifling through his wallet, Jonathan not daring to object, she absentmindedly ordered him to kneel in front of her. Not believing his own willingness to serve without question, Jonathan dropped to his knees, quite defeated by the events of the evening.

Having seemingly satisfied her curiosity as to where he lived, she dropped Jonathan's keys and wallet into her bag. Then she removed the belt of her suit, a shiny, narrow, black leather belt and tied it around Jonathan's neck like a leash, while Jonathan began to cry quietly at his own weakness and inferiority, his inability to fight these cruel people taking over his life.

In response to this the woman lifted his chin and said: "There, there, my little doggy. I'm not going to kidnap you and take you away from your beloved master. I'm only going play a little with you before letting you loose. Now remember that doggies always walk on all fours. Come along." With that she led him away on all fours in the opposite direction of where he had come from. Stilettos on his feet and his butt plug clearly visible, he crawled alongside the lady as she lead him into a small park, about fifteen blocks from his apartment. Here she found a streetlamp so that she could see the little slave boy properly. She seemed to be in a bit of a hurry, because the "only" things she subjected him to, was a vicious kicking of his groin. With her pointed shoes she found his cock and balls again and again. When she saw his response to her kicking, Jonathan's cock becoming predictably hard again, she laughed and kicked harder. As he approached his orgasm, she had him lie down on his stomach so that she could better trample his genitals with her stilettos heels. Of course the pain was unbearable and of course Jonathan couldn't help himself. With a defeated whine he came, his jism shooting out into the cold gravel he was lying in. Not only was it painful, but also demeaning in the extreme. He had been kicked into cuming by a woman, him being gay and by a stranger when the professor had made it quite clear who owned him. He just knew that the punishment would be terrible.

The woman, however, seemed to have had enough. She removed her belt from around his neck and said: "You have been well-trained and I'd like a word with your master. When and where will you meet him next time?" Meekly Jonathan replied and immediately the woman smiled: "Excellent. Give him my card and tell him that I'll be there at seven if it suits him. That should give him time to punish you for going along with a complete stranger and telling her all about your master. If he would like me to come around another time, he can call me on this number," she said pointing to the card, "Now scoot along." With that she gave him her business card and a little note she had written, together with his wallet and keys, and shooed him away. Not wanting further trouble Jonathan scampered away as quickly as he could in his new heels.

He was farther away from his apartment than he had been when he started and he was now completely naked except for his stilettos, his body was covered with welts and bruises and his genitals, already swollen to at least three times their normal size, were covered with a disgusting mixture of dirt and semen, drying slowly to an unappetizing cake. Luckily it was the middle of the night and his long walk home was mercifully uneventful, even if he was spotted by a few people along the way, all staring openly at him.

Once at home he was completely exhausted. His feet hurt very badly as did the rest of his body. In fact the only part of him that didn't hurt was his face and his hands. He knew that he should shower, but he was too exhausted. Instead he merely collapsed on the bed, rolled himself into a sheet and fell asleep, the butt plug still in place and still wearing the stilettos.

Day 4

The next day when Jonathan woke up, he nearly screamed with pain when he tried to sit up. Every square inch of his body felt like it had been beaten, which was of course not far from the truth. Not thinking clearly enough to take of his shoes or remove the plug, he limped to the bathroom to relieve himself and to take a shower. In the bathroom his eyes fell on his reflection in the large mirror on the wall. What he saw surprised him. He was surprised to see how quickly the bruises on his face were fading. In just a few days he would be able to show himself in public. He was also surprised at the extent of the bruising of his body. The welts quite literally covered his whole body, from his ankles to just below his neck. The professor's beating had been even more thorough than he had thought. And finally he was shocked to see how good his legs looked in heels, how good he looked in stilettos. Suddenly he understood why the professor made him wear those shoes.

Seeing himself like that he also understood that he had to escape. It would have to be planned and he would have to do exactly as the professor ordered until then, but in the end he would have escape. If he stayed on as the professor's slave he would never, ever escape and be permanently and irreparably damaged, or worse, very soon. Although Jonathan knew this with absolute certainty, he couldn't help but feel that it was too bad, since the prospect of slavery to the professor made him so outrageously horny. So horny in fact, that he had to masturbate right then and there. His mindset was still so dominated by the professor, that he didn't realize that he could have just wiped his cum of the bathroom mirror and sink instead of licking it up, until well after he had done it. His face burning with shame, he showered before eating a small breakfast. After brushing his teeth, he found that he was too tired to read and he simply went to bed again, being very careful to set the alarm clock so that he would make it to the professor's office in time.

Several hours later Jonathan stood in front of the professor's door dressed in his tightest jeans and his smallest T-shirt, his whole body aching from the welt covering him. Especially his genitals hurt terribly, but here the pain coupled with the anticipation of further abuse merely fuelled his lust and so Jonathan was already half-mast. He had been unsure of whether or not he had to wear his new stilettos or merely bring them, but in the end the fear of embarrassment had won and he had brought them along with him opting not to wear them. As he crawled into the office, locking the door behind him, the professor's cold voice informed him of his error. Having yet again angered the professor before even reaching his feet, Jonathan quickly undressed and put on his shoes before presenting himself for punishment.

This time the professor centered his attention on Jonathan's ass and back, putting new welts on top of old ones with real gusto. Afterwards a sobbing Jonathan sucked the professor's cock contritely, while presenting his master with the woman's business card and note, mewling his apologies over a mouthful of cock.

The professor was both pleased and amused at the woman's treatment of Jonathan and her note. Not only was her request interesting as she asked him for assistance in finding a fresh slave girl on campus, something the professor was confident he could do, but he also appreciated the fact that she had further punished and humiliated Jonathan while at the same time providing him with a golden opportunity to punish Jonathan. It was all good. So instead punishing Jonathan right away for being with another dom, Professor Trenton decided to wait until the woman arrived so that they could punish him together.

Of course Jonathan was told none of this. He just sat waiting anxiously for the punishment he knew must come, becoming more and more nervous as time went by. The professor used the waiting to hone Jonathan's sexual skills and to train his high heeled walking technique. By seven o'clock, when the woman arrived, Jonathan had been fucked twice and sucked the professor's cock just as many times and his calves were cramping from walking in his heels.

When the woman knocked on the door, it was Jonathan who answered, stark naked wearing only his stilettos and sporting a butt plug to go with his small, but insistent erection.

The woman smiled broadly at him and before realized that he had to kneel, she had slapped him hard, although it felt more like she had slapped him on general principles than because she was angry. He dropped to his knees, closing the door behind her as she passed and crawled behind her into the professor's office. Getting the professor's approval with a slight nod, she commanded him to lick her boots while she discussed matters too complicated for his tiny slave mind. Burning with shame Jonathan licked her boots clean, making sure that he didn't miss a single spot. The woman wore leather boots with five-inch stilettos and she must have made an effort to walk in as much mud as possible on her way over, because Jonathan would have thought it impossible for such fine boots to be so dirty.

The discussion between the two doms lasted a few minutes and Jonathan was further shamed to realize that he hadn't heard a single word they had said, as he had been so preoccupied with licking her boots clean. As a result his mouth was filled with dirt and the taste was awful, although it was nothing compared to the humiliation he felt when he discovered that he was hard as a rock. His continuing discovery of just how submissive he was, was a source of immense embarrassment.

Their chat over, the woman and the professor turned their attention to the useless and disobedient slave awaiting their punishment. While telling himself desperately that he didn't want this, the signs of Jonathan's arousal were evident not only in his insistent erection, but also in his flushed face, his wet lips and the fearful but adoring looks he cast in the direction of the doms whenever he could.

In a matter of minutes Jonathan was again tied down spread-eagle on the professor's desk, but this time on his back. The professor, being a gracious host, let the woman do the serious beating. Not surprisingly, she concentrated her efforts on Jonathan's genitals. Instead of a belt or a whip she switched between a wooden ruler and some very inventive kicking. When the wooden ruler wasn't hammering the insides of his thighs, his balls or his cock, the woman used her boots, now shiny and clean, for great effect. His balls were poised at the very edge of the table, offering a perfect target for both kicking, trampling and stabbing with her pointed heel.

In a matter of seconds Jonathan was screaming his head off. Or rather he would have screamed his head off if it hadn't been for the professor. The second Jonathan opened his mouth to scream the professor looped a belt around his neck and tightened the noose, cutting Jonathan's breath off almost completely. Not only did this shock and scare Jonathan a great deal, but it also aroused him insanely. Very quickly his cock, stiff and ready since before the beatings that he loved so began, was throbbing and slick with pre-cum. Recognizing the signs, the woman stopped her mutilation of Jonathan's genitals and the professor loosened the belt just enough to allow a little air into Jonathan's lungs. Without the abuse of his cock and once again having the ability to breathe, Jonathan's orgasms stopped in its track, leaving his cock twitching futilely.

After couple of minutes the couple resumed their torture, once again continuing until Jonathan was just about to explode, his face almost blue, with his tongue sticking out and eyes ready to pop out of his head. Having brought him to the edge, they stopped again, leaving him hanging again. This went on for half an hour until Jonathan was completely desperate. His balls felt like they were going to explode, but whether it was from the beating or the pent-up desire was unclear. His cock was not only unpleasantly hard, but also raw, bruised and scratched from the woman's attention. Even when the professor loosened the belt Jonathan felt like he would never breathe freely again and he spent all the time he wasn't choking, crying and begging soundlessly to be allowed to cum. And finally, with a kick that jarred his teeth and with his consciousness fading from lack of air, the woman and the professor let him cum. As his vision faded, Jonathan felt like a fountain of cum shot from his abused cock.

Jonathan came to coughing and retching and shuddering from the massive orgasm that had just rolled him over. Just as dominant in his mind was the memory of the intensely unpleasant and enormously arousing strangulation that the professor had subjected him to. His genitals were hurting badly and he had to remind himself once again that getting what you wanted wasn't always a good thing. But he wanted this. He wanted it desperately. He wanted the ropes pulling his arms and legs so far apart that he felt as if he was torn limb from limb. He wanted to loose the feeling in his hands and feet because the ropes were too tight. He wanted the feel of a hopelessly bruised body, badly beaten genitals and the feeling of being completely and totally helpless at the mercy of a master who had no mercy whatsoever.

Realizing jut how lost he was made Jonathan want to cry but before he did, the two doms were over him again. The woman was now sporting a truly massive double-ended dildo from her crotch and an evil grin to match. She removed his butt plug with a swift pull and before his asshole had time to close up she thrust her giant tool into him with such brutality that the air was knocked out of him. As he opened his mouth to draw a deep breath, the professor pulled back his head as far as it would go and rammed his cock down Jonathan's throat. Without giving him any time to recover or prepare, the two doms began fucking him at both ends. The woman filled out his ass completely and the professor shoved his cock deep down Jonathan's throat, cutting off his breath as the moved his tool around. With his head bent over backwards Jonathan had a clear view of the professor's balls slapping his face as the professor moved in and out.

While they fucked him the two doms found time to torture Jonathan's front as well. First they practically covered him with clothespins, pinching his skin most uncomfortably, and then they used leather paddles to beat the clothespins off. At the same time they also spent a lot of time abusing his cock. The professor beat it and the woman used her long nails to scratch it and they both kneaded his balls as much as they could. With the professor's cock only out of his throat once in a while so that he could grab a much needed mouthful of air, Jonathan couldn't even scream.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the professor came, filling up Jonathan's mouth and throat with a torrent of hot, sticky jism. Although he nearly choked on it, Jonathan had already learned that he had to swallow all of it, not spilling a drop. The consequences if he failed were too well-known.

When it was over the professor released Jonathan and pushed him off the table, allowing the slave to collapse in a sobbing heap on the floor. His hands and feet were still useless from being bound too tightly and his ass was leaking lubricant, still partially open from the brutal fucking. The professor had dumped him on his face and he now lay with his ass sticking up, crying with shame and humiliation. It wasn't so much the pain (he had to admit that he loved it), but the fact that he was too weak to resist his urges. This was clearly bad, yet he was turned on something awful by it. Even now at the height of his degradation and with his whole body aching from abuse, his cock was embarrassingly erect.

The woman and the professor finished their business and bade a pleasant farewell, but just before leaving the woman asked to be allowed to reinsert Jonathan's butt plug, a request the professor readily granted. She bent down and placed the plug between Jonathan's butt-cheeks and ordered him to lie still. Jonathan would never disobey after what he had just been put through, but with his hands and feet still not operable he wasn't in a position to disobey had he wanted to. The woman took a step backwards and drew her foot back in the same motion. Then, with and swift, hard and precise kick revealing her past as a soccer player, she kicked Jonathan's butt plug further up his ass the it had ever been before, making Jonathan scream with pain and discomfort as the pointed toe of her boot connected with the plug. The kick was so powerful that the plug disappeared completely up his ass, with even the flared end, designed so that the plug could be easily removed, disappearing far up his ass. Whimpering with humiliation Jonathan realized that he would need help to remove it and that until it was removed he would be unable to go to take a dump.

Meanwhile the woman had left and the professor returned his attention to Jonathan. By now he had regained most of the use of his feet and hands and was able to crawl over to his owner's feet when he got the command. Denying his complete subjugation was meaningless. When the professor was around Jonathan had no will of his own and was completely controlled by the evil academic. The professor looked down at the slave trembling at his feet and was most pleased. Jonathan was exactly the pain slave he had been looking for and his subjugation was already such that he was ready for the next level. Communicating none of his satisfaction to the worthless slave, the professor gave Jonathan a detailed set of instruction for the next day, making Jonathan cry again at the hopelessness of his situation.

But there was no mercy from the professor who simply kicked his slave boy out of his office, shutting the door behind the naked slave wearing only a pair of high-heeled shoes. Jonathan sobbed for a few minutes more before pulling himself together. He dressed, making sure that he wore his stilettos instead of his ordinary shoes, and began making his way home.

It wasn't even midnight and he met several other people on the way. More than a few noticed his footwear and he got more than a few dirty looks and a few remarks as he passed them, but he almost made it home unmolested. Almost. With the front door of the apartment building in sight Jonathan was stopped by two policemen. The cops were on foot patrolling the neighborhood and as Jonathan drew even with them, hoping to make it all the way home, one of them called out: "Hey you! Stop right there!" His heart sinking Jonathan stopped and faced the policemen. Both were huge guys and both grinning broadly. "Well-well," said one of them, "aren't we a sexy little bitch?" The tone drew an involuntary whimper from Jonathan, sparking a round of derisive laughter from the policemen. Stepping aside and indicating a back alley, the other policeman said: "Step into our office."

With no other options (and a raging hard-on to prove how much he hated that lack of options) Jonathan stepped in between the two policemen, into the alley. Using their nightsticks to poke his back, the policemen forced Jonathan far into the alley, thereby avoiding prying eyes from the street.

The policemen first used a bit of time humiliating Jonathan. They commented on his shoes ("straight from the cheap whore and bimbo store"), on his tight clothes ("they aren't tight enough for us to see the wrinkles on your tiny little cock") and on his submissive behavior. But when they lifted up his T-shirt they stopped cold. As they spotted the welts and bruises, their eyes widened and Jonathan saw how the bulge in their pants grew extra large. "Strip bitch," one of them ordered his voice raw with lust. Not wanting to anger them, Jonathan instantly stripped, but made sure to put on his shoes again. He didn't want to anger the professor more than absolutely necessary.

Both policemen whistled appreciatively at all the welts and bruises on his body. "Nice work," one of them commented and let his hand wander down Jonathan's body, lingering ever so briefly at Jonathan's bruised and battered, but also very erect cock. "Your master did this to you?" they asked him and Jonathan answered that his master had indeed done this to him. He was then ordered to kneel and to stick his ass up. Complying instantly Jonathan found himself on all fours in the dark alley, his ass pointing straight at the two policemen who had decided to "arrest" him. Not longer after his ass had been pointed in their direction, Jonathan felt how they tried to shove a nightstick up his ass. This was of course impossible, since his ass was already packed with a huge plug, but since the plug was not visible from the outside, they tried for several painful minutes until they asked Jonathan why they couldn't get in. When he answered them in his meekest voice, they burst out laughing.

The policemen decided to stop their torture of Jonathan out of respect fro the master who had done such a fine piece of work. Jonathan's heart swelled with pride at their praise for the professor. He once again tried telling himself that he didn't want to be a slave to the professor, but if that was the case why did he then have this absurd sense of pride in his master?

The two officers settled for a hand-job from Jonathan and soon their stiff cocks were pointing straight at Jonathan. The professor's education had only encompassed sucking and proper asswork, so suddenly Jonathan was forced to do something that he had so far only done for himself. However, it didn't prove too hard, especially since he soon discovered a real passion for the work. Yet again humiliation and submission had triggered Jonathan's deepest desires and being abused by two large policemen in a dirty back alley was straight out his dirty little fantasies, the ones he had masturbated to before Professor Trenton had taken over, filling up his entire universe. The policemen certainly didn't seem unhappy about his work and in a surprisingly short time they began breathing hard before shooting their loads straight into Jonathan's face a very short time apart. When they were finished they used Jonathan's hair to wipe the remaining cum off their cocks.

Zipping up their pants they commanded Jonathan to remain kneeling with back straight and his hands behind his head. They had decided to reward him. Trepidation fighting his intense arousal, Jonathan knelt with his hands behind his head, thereby presenting his nice little hard-on. It amazed him that it could remain hard after all the abuse and all the orgasm he had had, but there was no way around it: His cock was once again begging for attention. And that's just what it got. With a keening of near-panic Jonathan realized what the policemen had in mind, but there was no way to brace himself or prepare as the two men brought their nightsticks down on his cock, swinging hard and fast, first from above and then from below. Not surprisingly the pain was overwhelming and Jonathan collapsed onto his side, all the air gone from his lungs. Still, he was well enough trained already to keep his hands behind his head as they kept up their assault on his exposed genitals, his cock still hard and needy. Proving that he really was a pain slave, Jonathan came with a shriek of pain and pleasure after fifteen minutes of whacking with the two policemen's nightsticks. Again the orgasm was intense, satisfying and extremely humiliating.

Cupping his damaged genitals he thanked the two men, who in turn made him pick up his clothes and stand up. Moaning with pain he obeyed. Then they said that he could go home, but when he started to put on his clothes one of them said: "No, no, no my little bitch. Slave boys like you should show the world what you really are. You can carry your clothes home with you, but don't put them on." With no other choice, Jonathan thanked them again and scampered away to the sound of their derisive laughter.

He got home without anyone seeing him and after a quick shower, he put his shoes on again as the professor had instructed him to. Then he wrapped himself in a sheet and fell asleep.

Day 5

He didn't even consider going to lectures the next day. His genitals were so damaged from the beatings they had received the day before, that even very slight movements caused him great pain. He spent a great deal of the day standing by the bathroom sink, his balls immersed in ice water. His mind was consumed by the conflict that on one hand he knew that the professor's company was pure poison, that there was a good chance that the professor's handling of him would one day result in him being permanently and irreparably damaged or even killed. On the other hand the professor's brutal manhandling of him turned him on like nothing he had ever experienced. As he stood by the sink, the only reason he didn't have a hard-on, was the fact that his genitals were immersed in ice water.

Around four in the afternoon it was time to go to the professor's house. Professor Trenton had ordered him to get there on foot, walking all the way. The fact that it was an hour's walk did not seem to bother the professor. In fact it seemed that the walk was part of the torture, because the professor had commanded Jonathan to walk to his house wearing his high heels. Apart from drawing a lot of attention, the long walk was going to be pure murder on his feet and legs.

As he dressed Jonathan discovered that his feet were not the only things that were going to cause him great pain on the walk. Not very surprising, his badly bruised genitals, now further squeezed by his ultra-tight jeans, were aching before he had even shut his front door behind himself and the plug filling him unpleasantly made every step a trial.

The walk to the professor's house was every bit as bad as he had imagined. His body and feet ached the whole time and his embarrassment was acute and ever-present. His feminine legs, body and footwear combined with the fact that he was obviously a man, if a very feminine and delicate one, attracted a lot of attention, none of it good. More than a few cast indignant looks in his direction and most also had an acidic comment. Others thought it was funny, but the worst were the ones who instantly spotted him for what he was: a feminized slave boy. A group of three women in their forties stopped him and pulled him into a doorway where they showered him with abusive remarks while they pinched and slapped him. Luckily they didn't go so far as to make him perform sexually, but he had to lick their high heeled shoes before being allowed to get on his way.

Already late he tried to speed up, but it was hard with his whole body aching and with such difficult footwear. Not that he had trouble mastering the stilettos anymore. He had worn them for days now and was almost confident enough to run in them. His calf muscles hadn't quiet caught up yet, so he couldn't run just yet, but soon he would be able to.

Several more people cast dirty looks in his direction and twice he was stopped and asked for if he would like a quick fuck. These he respectfully declined, telling them he had an appointment. The third time, however, he almost didn't get away. He was stopped by two huge guys in leather, obviously bikers of some sort. Before either of them had said a single word, it was clear to Jonathan that they wanted to take him and abuse for at least the whole night, if not the rest of his life. The looks they cast him were distinctly predatory and they asked him no questions but simply took him by the arms and began dragging him towards a big, black van parked by the road. He wanted to scream and fight back, but already the professor's conditioning had turned him into an almost completely docile slave boy incapable of resisting an insisting master or mistress. Crying and begging softly he allowed himself to be abducted by the two bikers. He didn't even notice that his ever-present erection had not gone away.

He was saved by the very two policemen who had abused him the night before. Apparently on a double shift, they cruised by and sounded the horn once to signal the bikers to let him go. With a look of disgust and resignation they let him go and he scampered over to the police cruiser. This time he thanked them with all his heart and to his great surprise they just watched him go, making sure that the bikers didn't return, but not molesting him as he had expected.

Finally, more than half an hour late, Jonathan arrived at Professor Trenton's house.

It was a huge mansion in a quiet and wealthy suburb. Dreading the consequences of his tardiness, Jonathan climbed the stone steps leading up to the door. Here he followed the professor's orders and undressed. He put his clothes, except for the stilettos which he of course wore, in a plastic bag. This he closed as best he could before hiding it in a bush beside the door. Then he knelt and rang the door. After ringing the bell, he put his hands behind his head and waited for the professor to open the door. The door was could not be seen from the road, but Jonathan still felt awfully exposed kneeling in front of the closed door, but since he was the professor's slave he had no choice.

Jonathan waited for a long time in front of the closed door. The sun set and he began to freeze. His knees began to hurt front kneeling on the hard concrete steps and his arms began to tremble from being held high for so long. It wasn't until he was shivering with cold and trembling with fear that the professor opened the door and looked down on his slave boy. "You're late", the professor sneered down at him. When Jonathan opened his mouth to apologize the professor slapped him viciously in the face. The blow was so powerful that Jonathan lost his balance and was thrown sideways. He would have been thrown all the way off the steps had the professor not displayed truly astonishing speed. Before Jonathan had fallen all the way, the professor had caught him and was dragging him into his house- The professor had caught Jonathan by the hair and he dragged him by the hair into the lobby, closing the door behind them.

Once inside the professor twisted Jonathan's arm behind his back, forced him onto his knees and entered him from behind, forcing his way into Jonathan without warning or lubrication. The move was so fast that Jonathan barely had time to register that the professor had removed his butt plug. As the fucking progressed, he grabbed Jonathan's hair and forced his head all the way back, enjoying the slave boy's cries to the fullest as he thrust up his ass.

The fuck was brutal, ruthless and shocking and Jonathan loved every second. The feeling of being taken, of being owned was so good, so satisfying. In the back of his mind a small voice cried that this was wrong and that the professor wanted only to hurt him, that he would regret it, but as the evil academic drilled his cock up his ass all Jonathan could think off was how good it was to be back with his owner.

At some point during the fuck the professor let go of Jonathan's arm and reached around to grab his cock. To his embarrassment this made Jonathan mewl incoherently with delight and when the professor squeezed his balls hard enough to make his vision fade from the pain, Jonathan came with a girlish scream as he once again confirmed that he was a pain slave first and foremost.

After the professor had shot his load too, Jonathan was briefly allowed to lie on the cold floor cupping his bruised genitals as he croaked out his heartfelt thanks to his owner. He wasn't allowed to lie there for long. Soon he was commanded to clean the floor, licking up his own cum with devotion. His eyes shone with mindless, submissive pleasure when the professor shoved Jonathan's butt plug into his mouth, making him mewl his thanks around the dirty piece of rubber.

The professor then made Jonathan crawl across the lobby to a spot behind the staircase than occupied the center of it. Here, concealed from the casual observer was a door, which opened down into a basement or rather dungeon. Jonathan, his mouth still holding his own disgusting butt plug, looked down the stairs and thought how difficult it was going to be to crawl down those steps. As it turned out he didn't have to. The professor ordered him to press his head to the ground and put his hands behind his head. Then he made Jonathan spread his leg wide. When Jonathan had obeyed this command the professor reached down and got a good, firm hold of his genitals.

His grip secure, he then lifted up Jonathan by his cock and balls only. With Jonathan screaming as the weight of his whole body was lifted by his genitals, the sound escaping from around the plug in his mouth, the professor lifted Jonathan clear of the floor and carried him down the stairs and into the dungeon. It was by far the most painful trip Jonathan had ever taken and he screamed the whole ay down, but still he so well-conditioned already that he dutifully kept his hands behind his head and that he didn't try to put his feet on the floor a single time. The professor had taken ownership of Jonathan only five days before and already Jonathan was completely obedient.

In the dungeon the professor dumped Jonathan unceremoniously on the floor, completely ignoring the slave boy's gurgling and incomprehensible thank-yous. He knelt down beside the cowed slave boy, lifted up his chin and looked him straight in the eye as he laid out his future for him: "You are mine; my little slave boy, my bitch, my property." Jonathan's eyes grew wide and frightened as the professor continued: "Every minute of the day you'll think of how to best please me and I'll make sure that your dreams fill up with this too." Jonathan had never been so frightened in his life. Everything he had supposed about Professor Trenton was turning out to be true: he didn't care about Jonathan; he simply wanted to use him. Although he had so far said nothing about what he wanted to do to Jonathan, his tone and his previous actions left no doubt that he intended to hurt him just for sport.

Seeing Jonathan's fear painted on his pretty face made the professor smile and he continued: "You are a useless slut, good for only one thing: punishing. The sooner you realize this; the better is it for you. You probably think that you should have an "ordinary" little life and shack up with some stud who'll tie you up on Sundays, but otherwise treat you like his cute little boy-wife to be pampered and spoiled." Jonathan cried when he heard this description, because it was essentially true. He had wanted a big, strong stud to come and take him, maybe show him a bit of rough stuff, but otherwise be nice to him. The professor's words made this dream sound ridiculous, especially considering the marks on Jonathan's body and his open arousal at being beaten and tortured. The professor proceeded to demolish Jonathan's dreams: "This is wrong. You are a pain slave. Pain is good for you and you need it. Your destiny is to be used and abused by cruel men who don't care if you live or die, whether you are comfortable or crippled as long as you scream for them. You'll lead a short and painful life and you'll last only a couple of years before you are worn out and discarded." The casual way in which the professor referred to the horrible fate Jonathan could look forward to, made him whimper with terror and loose bladder control, provoking a snort of derision from the professor. "Useless slut. You can't possibly deny that you love this and need this. Being beaten and tortured is what you really want, not that other vanilla crap." Jonathan whimpered in defeat. It was literally hard to deny that the professor was right, since Jonathan's cock was so hard it seemed almost impossible. The professor cast a brief glance at Jonathan's tell-tale erection and handed him a wooden paddle: "Prove, to me and to yourself, that you really are nothing but a useless pain boy. Beat your own balls until you cum."

Lying on his back on the cold dungeon floor wearing only a pair of stilettos, Jonathan looked up at his owner, his eyes wide and a small, desperate whimper of utter hopelessness escaping his throat. This was one more, big step on the way to loosing himself completely, to becoming nothing but the worthless pain slave that Professor Trenton said he was. Part of him wanted to scream and run; wanted to return to the real world and escape from this nightmare existence of constant pain and degradation, wanted to pursue the dream of an education and finding a nice guy who'd treat him right. But another part of him, the part which now raised the wooden paddle, ready to strike, wanted to submit completely and utterly and become the object that the professor wanted to turn him into. To that Jonathan the prospect of being used up and discarded by ruthless sadists without regard for his health or safety was so arousing that he brought the paddle down with such force that he was unable to even scream. The pain slave part of him had won for now and while the pain in his groin was still too intense to even draw breath, he still raised the paddle again and struck with the same amount of force. As small screams and moans began to escape him and a little air found its way into his lungs, Jonathan continued beating his balls with undiminished power. Again and again he brought the paddle down until at last he came with a violent shriek, his whole body convulsing with the power of the orgasm. His cum shot up and hit his chest, neck and face adding further to his humiliation.

Afterwards he again lay balled up, cupping his damaged genitals. The pain and the satisfaction were immense as was the shame and humiliation. The professor had watched all this impassively and he acknowledged Jonathan's submission without a word or even a nod. He simply stood up and for a short while left his slave to recuperate. Not for long though. Soon he came back carrying a bundle of things for Jonathan. Meeting no resistance whatsoever, he inserted a rubber bladder into Jonathan's mouth. The bladder was a pump gag, with the pump itself being connected to the bladder by a short tube. Without further ado the professor began pumping up the bladder and soon the pressure was almost enough for Jonathan's jaws to dislocate. While Jonathan whimpered, again, the professor pumped the gag all the way up, so that Jonathan's panicky eyes now looked down over bloated cheeks. The next item was a pair of earplugs and the professor pushed them so far into his ears that Jonathan feared that they'd never be retrieved. Then came a thick, black rubber hood, encasing Jonathan's head completely. The only thing sticking out was the pump for his gag. He was able to breathe through two tiny holes in the rubber hood positioned over his nostrils. As the earplugs expanded to their proper size, the final few sounds of the outside world vanished and Jonathan was left in silent darkness. Gagged, deaf and blind but otherwise untied, Jonathan felt the professor secure a broad collar around his neck. It didn't seem like he attached a leash to it, though.

The professor then helped him stand and for a while Jonathan just stood in the dizzy darkness. His balance in heels was now good enough for him to not fall over and he could move his arm freely, but he had no references except what was up and down. He thought that moving without permission would probably be seen as a sign of disobedience and while he had to admit that part of him loved pain, he also wanted to avoid the professor's punishments at all costs. It was all very confusing and not a little arousing. Despite the pain in his much abused genitals, his cock was once again rising to half-mast and beyond.

Then, suddenly and viciously, a crop struck his ass. He tried to emit a small scream, but the gag stopped the sound quickly. The shock made him jump and in his cocoon he had trouble keeping his balance. After a few faltering steps he regained his balance and again stood waiting. This time the crop struck his thigh and again he was sent reeling. The blows began raining down from all directions and soon Jonathan was doing a weird and confused tap-dance as he tried to keep his balance. He tried not to move away and thus invoke the professor's wrath. Likewise he tried to keep his hands in a neutral position so it didn't seem like he was trying to prevent the crop from hitting him. The result was complete confusion mixed with pain and humiliation. He couldn't help but imagining how he looked scampering around in high heels, wearing only a hood with a rubber ball dangling from his gagged mouth. A slave like that would look completely ridiculous. Such a slave would have a body covered in welts and bruises from long and hard abuse. And such a slave would have an impressive hard-on for such a little bitch.

He did have a hard-on and it was impressive. Jonathan moaned with pain and his mind was filled with the enormity of the humiliation he was being subjected to, the degrading thought that he was worth no better than this, that he was a useless boy bitch.

Suddenly the blows stopped and strong hands grabbed his wrists and locked them in front of him in what felt like thick leather cuffs. Then his hands were raised above his head and pulled further up until his feet dangled uselessly above the ground. Soon his shoulders began to hurt and his feet kicked uselessly while he whimpered behind the gag. Big hands grabbed his hips, holding him down and holding him still before the professor's cock thrust its way up his ass. For some reason this surprised him, but feeling the evil professor's tool filling him up made Jonathan forget all about escape. As the professor began to work his cock in and out at a leisurely pace, Jonathan tried to work with him, tried to find the pace no matter that it was extremely difficult hanging by his wrists. But he did find it and soon the professor hit just the right spot. His arousal mounting Jonathan now only waited for the moment when the professor would squeeze his balls viciously. As the professor came, shooting his massive load up Jonathan's ass, Jonathan felt his own orgasm coming on and just then the professor squeezed his balls. But this time he did it much harder than he had done before. Holding on to Jonathan's balls with a vice-grip, he calmly allowed Jonathan to jerk and spasm silently with pain and orgasmic delight.

When his orgasm was finally over Jonathan hung from his wrists, utterly spent. His balls hurt worse that ever before, but he didn't even have the energy to stir. He just hung limp, only pain penetrating his cocoon. After a little while he felt how the professor grabbed his ankles and tied them so that he now hung with legs spread wide. Jonathan knew that it couldn't be good, but he was too spent to even moan in protest. Not that the professor would have heard him with the massive gag in place and if he had heard Jonathan he wouldn't have cared at all.

For a few minutes he just hung there, cold air caressing his bruised body and very sore testicles. Then the first blow fell. It was a whip and the long piece of braided leather wrapped itself, almost lovingly, around Jonathan's upper body, once gain filling him up with pain. Jonathan woke from his stupor and began to twist and turn to get free, to get away from the whip. But of course there was no escape and soon he thrashed around futilely, screaming into his gag as the blows rained down on him, covering his body with long, red welts.

The whipping went on for what seemed like forever, until the only parts of him not marked by the whip were his feet, shielded by the shoes, and his face, covered by the hood. Jonathan had screamed himself out and from his throat a low, hopeless keening could be heard. He had never been in so much pain as he was right now and he now knew with absolute certainty that if he really became the piece of pain slave property that the professor wanted him to be, he would be worn out in a very short time. If the professor didn't kill within a year or two, someone else would. He would be tortured to death for someone else's amusement. And the worst part of it was that an ever-growing part of him would love every blow.

For now, however, the professor continued the torture. Jonathan felt how the professor looped a piece of rope around the base of his balls and as the rope was pulled taut, he felt how a weight pulled on the rope, swinging gently back and forth while tugging at his testicles. Then a somewhat thinner piece of rope was tied around his cock, right behind the head, and this too was weighted and the weight allowed to swing freely.

At first it was merely unpleasant, but as time went by the pull on his genitals became more and more painful. It didn't help that he couldn't keep completely still and so the weights were constantly swinging and tugging at his genitals.

But the weights were only the beginning. After letting them swing, the professor took a giant dildo and pushed it none too gently up Jonathan's ass. With some very nice rope work through Jonathan's crotch, around his waist and down through his butt crack he made sure that Jonathan couldn't expel it. Before he went on the professor turned it on, making the dildo vibrate furiously inside Jonathan.

Then Professor Trenton, in a display of true evil patience, started using clothespins on Jonathan's body. Every available surface of Jonathan's body, from his wrists to his ankles, was covered with clothespins pinching his skin. On his torso, arms and legs they were arranged in long rows and connected with string, forming "zippers", but in his crotch and around his nipples the professor simply wanted to put as many as possible, covering these parts completely.

Inside his cocoon this reduced Jonathan to absolute panic. His entire body, already beaten bad enough to draw blood from many of the vicious welts, was now pushed to a completely new level of pain. Everything hurt and hurt bad. The professor's final touch before leaving him was to place something over Jonathan's nose that dramatically reduced the airflow. The result was that Jonathan had to work very hard to breathe, something that definitely didn't make his situation any more comfortable.

Then the professor left him. Jonathan was on the verge of panic. Everything hurt worse than ever before, he had trouble breathe and he was loosing the feeling in his hands from hanging by his wrists for too long. Only three sounds penetrated his prison: The vibrations from the dildo in his ass, the sound of his labored breathing and a keening sound of panic coming from his throat whenever he exhaled. Although he tried, he simply couldn't stop himself from making it.

In his mind two conflicting thoughts bounced around feverishly: The first was that he had to escape before the professor killed him, something that could only be a matter of time. The second was that he would do anything, absolutely anything to please the professor, to not provoke further punishment. The professor had established a permanent presence in Jonathan's mind and even if he did manage to escape, he would always be there.

Jonathan had no idea how long he hung there in extreme pain, but it must have been hours. Gradually the pain from the clothespins faded as blood flow was reduced in the pinched places and after a while he could no longer feel his fingers and hands. He was sure that the damage done to him was permanent. How could the whipping not leave scars and would his genitals ever be useful again after the abuse they had taken? Jonathan also feared that he would be unable to use his hands again, that hanging from them for so long would damage them permanently.

Then, after what seemed like an eternity, the professor returned. Jonathan didn't hear it, but rather felt it as the first thing he did upon his return was to pull one of the zippers off. As the blood rushed back Jonathan was subjected to a whole new sensation of pain and again began thrashing. Or rather he began thrashing as much as his limited air supply would allow him before he ran out of breath.

The professor proceeded to remove al the zippers at a nice, leisurely pace, making sure that Jonathan had almost gotten over removal of one zipper before removing the next. When all the zippers were gone, the clothespins in Jonathan's crotch and around his nipples still remained and Jonathan had just enough air to really fear the removal of these. And well he should. Because the professor was not content with simply pulling them off. Instead he preferred beating them off with a bamboo stick, sending Jonathan to new heights of pain. He took special care whacking away at Jonathan's crotch, making sure to hit hard as possible. Halfway through Jonathan finally and mercifully passed out. But of course the professor wouldn't allow him to get off that easily. He simply used some smelling salt to wake up the poor slave before continuing the torture.

Inside his rubber hood Jonathan was broken. He would never disobey the professor again. Not that he could remember having disobeyed him to deserve this punishment, but he was sure that he must have. He was completely certain that he, the useless slave boy, must have offended the professor and thus invoked this just punishment. The professor must be right and he, Jonathan, vowed never to be disobedient again.

As Jonathan reached this state the professor removed the rope around his genitals. Again the blood flooding back into them made this an extremely painful experience, further reducing Jonathan. Then the dildo was removed with a slurping sound Jonathan was unable to hear and finally his hands were released and he was allowed to drop to the ground completely exhausted. He did, however, try to worship the professor, blind and fumbling crawling around to worship his shoes. Finding nothing, while the professor stood by laughing at the obviously broken slave's futile attempts at worship, Jonathan finally collapsed to the ground. Not only was he in a great deal of pain, but his hands were completely useless. He couldn't feel it, but they were very swollen and their bluish color was fading only very slowly.

Jonathan felt how his hips were being raised and how the professor entered him from behind. The fact that his owner would still want to fuck such a worthless pain slave as himself moved Jonathan deeply and inside his hood he began crying with gratitude. As the professor moved his cock expertly around inside him, Jonathan found to his immense surprise that he was getting hard. He had thought that the massive abuse would have damaged it or at least drained him of the ability to get it up. This was clearly not the case as he rose to full mast and the professor, in an even more surprising move, began stroking him ever so gently. Crying and screaming futilely with gratitude Jonathan came, thrashing weakly with a massive and very painful orgasm. Afterwards he was allowed to rest for a while on the cold dungeon floor. Some of the feeling was slowly returning to his hands, which were now filling up with tingling pain.

A sharp blow with a crop delivered to his ass, signaled that his little rest was over. Communicating solely via the crop the professor made Jonathan understand that he wanted him to crawl on all fours in the direction signaled by the crop. Still not in full control over his hands and with an aching body, Jonathan finally got the message and managed to crawl to the dungeon door. The professor would, however, not let him crawl up the stairs. Instead he rolled Jonathan onto his back and once again grabbed hold of his genitals, lifting him by those very tender parts. Of course the trip up the stairs was pure murder for Jonathan, but even though his hands were free he didn't even dare to move them below shoulder height as he was too afraid that this would be interpreted as a sign of disobedience and punished by the professor. At the top of the staircase Jonathan was thrown on the ground and whipped onto all fours again and sent crawling, only to find that he had crawled to a new staircase and had to be carried by his balls yet another flight of stairs. At the top of these he was again sent crawling.

After a few minutes of crawling around in the blind, the professor's crop guiding him to his destination, Jonathan bumped him head into something and right after that he was lifted up and deposited on the professor's bed. He felt how a chain was fixed to his collar and guessed, correctly, that the other end was secured to the bed. The bed moved as the professor got in with and soon the professor was playfully, but still quite painfully, slapping his slave around. His hands focused, as always, on Jonathan's genitals and even though he was very tired and hurt all over, Jonathan felt himself get hard again. He really was a pain slave and all attempts to deny it were utterly futile. Soon the slapping gave way to fucking and the professor took him while he lay on his back, his cock and balls freely accessible to the evil academic. Unsure of what to do with his hands, Jonathan elected wisely to keep them behind his head, out of the way. His docile obedience was eventually rewarded when the professor, just as he came, manhandled Jonathan's genitals until he too came, thrashing and jerking with the last of his energy.

Afterwards the professor threw the spent Jonathan down and went to bed. Jonathan was dimly aware that the professor's feet sometimes kicked him and that he spent the whole night under the blanket by the professor's feet. It didn't matter. Jonathan was completely exhausted, broken and drained of free will.

Day 6

When Jonathan woke up the next day he was so sore that he didn't dare move. His whole body ached and all his joints were stiff from the cramped positions he had occupied during the previous day. He was both very thirsty and very hungry and he desperately needed to pee. The feeling had returned to his hands, but they still felt oddly clumsy and impaired in their mobility.

But still Jonathan didn't dare move. He could feel the professor's feet on his head and knew that moving might wake him up; a thought that filled Jonathan with such dread that a small whimper escaped his throat. The professor, who had been awake for some time and who was actually propped comfortably up on pillows, reading the paper, noted with some satisfaction that the stupid slave boy didn't dare move, no matter that he had to be desperately thirsty and in need of a piss. It was only right that he learn his place and so the professor simply continued to read while Jonathan lay under his feet in increasing discomfort.

An hour later the pressure in Jonathan's bladder had reached a level where he had to react and the professor felt a slight tremor under his feet as Jonathan shook ever so slightly, apparently trying to wake the professor up, whom he evidently thought was still sleeping, without incurring his wrath. This amused the professor a great deal and instead of pretending to wake up, his shuffled his feet a little on Jonathan's face, as if stirring in his sleep. A whimper escaped Jonathan as he tried stirring a little more forcefully, but the professor just shuffled his feet again. Jonathan tried this three more times with ever increasing force until finally he had to give up a "wake up" the professor by shaking his feet ever so gently.

Finally the professor seemed to wake up and he of course promptly rewarded Jonathan for his gentleness by kicking him in the head - hard. Then he threw his slave boy out on the floor. Jonathan landed awkwardly and instantly began to freeze. But he had matters that were more pressing and he tried communicating to the professor that he had to pee, something he tried with sign language as he could still neither see, heard or speak. The professor knew exactly what Jonathan needed, but he still pretended ignorance for a few minutes before making Jonathan kneel with his hands behind his head and his cock sticking straight out. This time he didn't use the crop, but simply moved his limbs into the positions he required them to be in. Jonathan then felt how a tube or a container of some sort was pushed up around his cock and with a sigh, muffled by the gag, he let go, filing up the bottle the professor held.

When it was over Jonathan felt how the rubber bladder in his mouth was deflated. His jaws were almost frozen in position and it took him a while to flex some mobility back into them. He was most careful not to speak without permission and as there was no sign that the hood was coming off, he wasn't likely to get such a permission. Instead the professor pulled the bladder out through a hole in the hood. Then he bent Jonathan's head over backwards and inserted what felt like a funnel into his mouth. If Jonathan had expected a nice drink of water to come down the funnel, he was sorely disappointed. What the professor poured down was urine, salty and bitter. First the most of bottle Jonathan had just pissed himself and then the contents of his own bladder. It was absolutely disgusting and Jonathan made sure not to miss a drop as he was sure that this would result in terrible punishment. It didn't really make his thirst go away, but at least he didn't feel like dinking anymore.

After filling up Jonathan with piss, the professor removed the funnel and fucked Jonathan's face as brutally as possible, several times pushing his cock into his throat and making him gag. But Jonathan was grateful for the fucking. He had begun enjoying servicing his cruel owner a great deal and besides the taste of cum washed away the revolting taste of urine. After shooting his load, the professor fetched some dog food and fed Jonathan this, washing it down with the last of Jonathan's own urine, now cold and just as revolting as before. Breakfast thus over it was time to get on with Jonathan's training/torture.

Regretfully the professor had to admit to himself that Jonathan's body really couldn't take any more abuse right now. The professor wanted to abuse Jonathan a lot more and unfortunately this required that he hold back right now.

So instead of active torture he would have to think of something else, something that would allow Jonathan's bruised and damaged body to heal at least a little bit so that he might be tortured again soon.

The professor then dragged Jonathan, still hooded but not gagged, down into the dungeon again, taking great pleasure in lifting up the poor boy by his genitals. It really was a most satisfying way to punish a slave. Once in the dungeon the professor first lathered up Jonathan's body in a soothing crčme to help heal his wounds. Then he briefly took off his stilettos while dressing Jonathan in a shiny, black, full-body rubber suit. The suit covered Jonathan from his toes to his neck, leaving only access to his genitals and ass. Once the suit was on he put the high heels back on Jonathan's feet and allowed his slave to stand on his own for a minute, enjoying the luxurious feel of rubber against his skin. Jonathan still didn't dare speak or move his arms and hands without specific orders, so he was completely docile when his owner imprisoned him in a black, rubber straightjacket with free access to his ass and genitals.

When Jonathan was hugging himself very tightly, the professor led him to a corner of the dungeon and forced him down on his knees. The professor spread his legs wide and then strapped them to the floor, straps going around his ankles and just behind his knees. Then the professor forced Jonathan forward and carefully guided his mouth down over a rubber cock sticking out of the floor. When Jonathan had taken all of it in and it pressed against the back of his throat, a strap went around the back of his head, securing him to the floor. For good measure, although it strictly wasn't necessary, the professor also chained Jonathan's collar to the floor. Jonathan was now pressing his face to the ground and tied in this kneeling position. He rested on his knees and face only, since his arms were hugging his rubber clad body tightly.

The position became uncomfortable after a few minutes since practically his whole weight rested on the rubber cock pressing against the back of his throat. It also put a great deal of strain on his neck, since he couldn't even use his shoulders to take some of the load.

While trying to adjust to the position and hoping that the professor would soon put him into another, more bearable one, he felt how the professor moved behind him and began caressing his ass. The caressing was over soon as the professor began fucking him. This time he didn't touch Jonathan, but although disappointed he still loved the feeling of being taken by his owner.

His business over the professor got up and left Jonathan, but not before giving him a parting blow. Aiming carefully and stepping back for maximum power, the professor kicked Jonathan in the balls so hard that had he not been tied down as he was, he would have lifted up from the ground.

Then he left Jonathan kneeling in the corner, constantly on the verge of gagging on the intruder in his mouth. At first Jonathan waited anxiously for the inevitable blow; the kick in the groin or worse. But it never came. The professor had reluctantly decided that Jonathan needed to heal before he could abuse him more, so he left his slave tied up that way for more than twenty-four hours. For the first few hours he had to fight the gagging reflex all the time, but then he found a position where he could endure the presence of the rubber cock in his throat. It was far worse for his neck and shoulders. They now supported him in a most uncomfortable position and the pain got worse with every minute. At the same time his rubber coated body experienced terrible aches and itches as it healed from the damage inflicted by the professor. It was awful and there was nothing he could do about it; no escape and no relief. He just had to take it, accepting his fate as a plaything. To his intense embarrassment this aroused him and adding to his degradation was his own very visible erection.

Those twenty-four hours were the worst and longest of his life so far, yet he had no illusions that it could get much, much worse. During the night the professor fucked him several times and each time Jonathan found himself gasping with happiness as his brutal master proved his ownership. Escaping his fate as a pain slave to be used up and discarded after a short life of screaming servitude seemed increasingly unlikely.

Day 7

Late on Sunday morning the professor released Jonathan from his position in the corner. After a terribly uncomfortable night, filled with nightmares (or were they really fantasies?) about absolute slavery and brutal punishments Jonathan was exhausted. When the professor pulled his mouth off the rubber cock and dumped him on the floor, Jonathan didn't have the energy to move so he simply collapsed on the floor in the same position he had just occupied for the last day and night. His neck and shoulders were almost completely numb and locked, and only very slowly could he begin to move his head back into a more natural angle with his body. Naturally it hurt terribly as did his whole body, even if the pain was less raw and intense than the day before.

Inside his rubber hood Jonathan had no idea what came next or if he had pleased the professor. He had no doubt that he was in for punishment, but would it be punishment for crimes he had committed against his master or punishment simply for sport, because he was a pain slave, supposed to scream?

He still didn't have a clue when a funnel was shoved down his throat, but at least he would get something to drink that way, even if it was urine and it made him gag and retch. With almost hopeless resignation Jonathan realized that drinking piss and worse would probably be something he would be doing a lot of in the future.

After giving Jonathan a drink of his urine the professor made him piss in a bottle and then fed him most of his own. With some satisfaction he noted that Jonathan didn't object in any way, but simply swallowed dutifully. Jonathan felt very full, the disgusting liquid sloshing around inside him and more than a little nauseous but he knew that he had better not throw up. Instead he sat quietly as the professor gave him breakfast, this time a can of cat food forced down his throat. This was chased down with the last of his of piss and true to form the piss was followed by the most welcome intrusion of the professor's wonderful and very hard cock. Whimpering with delight without even realizing it, Jonathan sucked the fat cock, again relishing in his submission as the thoughts of the outside world and a normal life drifted further and further away, the professor's cum washing yet more of Jonathan's independence away.

Having kept his hands off Jonathan for so long, the professor felt that he had some catching up to do before the weekend ended. Moving quickly he removed all of Jonathan's binding and all of his clothes, except for his shoes of course. Swaying unsteadily in the sharp light Jonathan of course offered no resistance as the professor cuffed his hands in front of him. As before the cuffs were connected to a chain and this was used to hoist Jonathan up until his feet were well off the ground. Also as before the professor tied his legs wide, further hampering Jonathan's already very limited mobility.

A small whimper escaped Jonathan as he prepared for the whipping that was bound to come. Looking down his body and seeing the terrible welts, welts that were no doubt much worse on his back, Jonathan wondered how much more he could take. At the present speed he doubted that he would survive even a single week more as the professor's slave before being worn out, whipped to death or worse. The prospect was absolutely terrifying and Jonathan shook with fear, embarrassing himself by loosing bladder control. Even more embarrassing was the fact that the stream of urine he could no longer hold back came out of a rock hard cock. His terror fuelled his lust and the knowledge that he his lust was thus fuelled increased his terror, creating a loop of mounting terror/lust. A stream of urine came from Jonathan's cock as he emitted a hopeless little keening sound and in the end the terror became so great that he lost bowel control, his very liquid feces running down the inside of his legs as he cried and keened with terror and lust.

The pro