I had spent the day making plans: how I would train the slave, how I would use it, how I would keep it, how I would modify it. When we returned home in a couple of days, we would be met by a friend of mine, who would do the deed. Until then, I intended to start breaking in my slave.

The slave emerged from the terminal building lit by the last of the mountain twilight. I noticed that he was visibly shaking as he carried his duffel bag and strode to me. I saw his bright smile and immediately regained my composure. I stood tall against my SUV with the back gate open. I had on a tight T-shirt that accentuated my chest and arms, a pair of jeans, and some bad-ass boots. He was my property, but I wanted to make an impression. I smiled back at him; how could I not be happy that he had given me the gift of himself?

"You made it," I said to him, still smiling. "Put the bag in here and hop in the front seat."

We both got in the truck. “I am very glad you are here,” I said sincerely. “I must ask you definitively. After this, there is no turning back. Will you be My slave, to live with Me as My property, to serve Me however I wish, without question or limits?”

“Absolutely, I do, Sir. I am Your property, Sir.”

When we started driving, I expressed my gratitude for its return and quickly explained the plan. We would spend the night and the next day at the cabin, then drive back to my house the following day. As soon as we left the airport road, I had its slide off its clothes. I could see it was excited but exhausted. It leaned its head back and fell asleep quickly when we were under way.

The slave stirred as the truck slowed and we began to ascend toward the cabin. When we stopped, I pointed toward the back gate of the truck. "Come on, slave. Bring that bag with you."

It followed me, still naked, into the cabin. I pointed to drop the bag on the floor, then held it in my arms. "You have done the right thing," I said. "I'm so proud of my slave. Did you follow my instructions?" I asked, still holding it tight.

"Completely Sir," he reported. "No one will notice I'm gone for a long time. No one will find me."

"Excellent. Sit down, I want to take a look at this bag, but I need to talk about a few things before I do."

I started a fire in the fireplace as the slave sat down on the floor next to my chair. When the fire was going, I sat down too. "First, there will be some new rules. We'll be spending a lot of time on rules in the next several days. You agreed to be my slave, didn’t you? Slaves do as they are told, without question. Understand?" He nodded.

"Good. But I can’t watch you all the time, and it will be annoying to have to tell you what to do constantly. So, we need some rules. Some will be annoying to you, some might be uncomfortable, some may make no sense at all. I don’t care. You are property and will do as I say. So, the first and last word out of your mouth will be 'Sir'. Understand, boy?

"Sir Yes Sir", it said eagerly.

"Good. You are a slave and no longer human or male. You may not refer to yourself in thought or speech as “I” or “me” or “mine”, because You are merely a part of Me. You will refer to yourself as “the slave” or “it”. Do you understand?”

“Sir Yes Sir,” it said.

“Good. It will take some getting used to, but I’ll be here to remind you. You will be naked at all times, inside and outside, unless specifically directed by me. So, unless I tell you to wear something, you will be naked. You will continue the daily routine we established before: you’ll keep your body smooth and your hole clean. Speaking of your hole, your body is mine. I decide what goes into it and what comes out of it. You already know about my rules about cumming, but now it is a general rule: you eat or drink only when I say, you piss only when I say. Needless to say, no other man may ever touch you. I don’t expect that you’ll have opportunity for that to happen. Finally, Peter no longer exists. Eventually, I’ll assign another name. In the meantime, you are never to respond or react to the name Peter. Ever. Understand, slave?" I asked.

"Sir Yes Sir," he said.

“Great. Now what's in the bag?" I pulled it toward me, opened the zipper, and dumped the contents on the floor. I was interested in the contents of the life, but knew that everything it had brought would have to be destroyed. I wanted nothing that could possibly trace Peter to me. I separated a large envelope that contained a government ID and other records, a wallet, and a plastic bag with a toothbrush. I set aside a pair of boots, some sneakers, and a belt, and a few other items that wouldn’t burn.

In the pocket of its jeans, I found a wad of cash, about $1500. “Where did all this money come from, faggot?”

“Sir, it was the slave’s life savings from working summers and other odd jobs, Sir.”

“It completely belongs to you?”

“Sir Yes Sir.”

Now it belonged to me. I set it on top of the envelope, quickly calculating the expenses I was racking up to care for the slave.

"Everything else is just your clothes, slave?" I asked.

"Sir Yes Sir," it replied eagerly.

"OK. Everything else we’ll burn. Keep piling it on the fire. The duffel bag, too. We need none of this," I said. It looked at me quizzically, its head cocked slightly to one side.

“Do as I say, slave. I want you naked, and when you can’t be, I’ll provide the clothing for you to wear.” I had no intention of allowing it to wear clothing, and wanted there to be no way to trace its belongings to me.

The slave occupied itself with burning its clothes. When the flames consumed one article of clothing, it would throw more on. The big cotton duffel bag was last, sending big ribbons of flame and smoke up the chimney. In a few minutes, the slave truly had nothing.

I looked more closely at the contents of the envelope as the slave busied itself with the fire. I was tempted to burn all of it, if that would completely erase Peter. But of course, that would only have erased my access to those records if I should ever need them again, for whatever reason. I set the envelope back down; I’d pack them into my safe at home.

I got up and went to the kitchen area. The slave stayed sitting on the floor, staring at the fire. I pulled out a plastic garbage bag and tossed it to the slave. "Put those shoes, the cap and belt in there. We'll get rid of those soon enough." I said. "Then stand up."

The slave loaded the bag and stood up straight. I pulled on my lock around his genitals. "Still safe and secure, right?" I asked.

"Sir Yes Sir," he said. "No way to get at them, Sir."

I unlocked the device and took it off. "Go in to the bathroom. I want you to shower, wash yourself in and out and shave. You should have everything you need. Find me when you're done"

"Sir Yes Sir," he said. “Sir, may the slave urinate while in the bathroom, Sir?”

"Yes, slave. Tomorrow I will teach you how I would like it to be done. For now, go piss, but sit down on the toilet. Only men stand to pee, right slave?"

When the slave was finished, it found me sitting in the living room chair. I had stripped into my underwear and was enjoying the warmth of the fire against my skin. The lights were switched off, and I was lit only by the dying embers of the fire.

"Sir," the slave said as it approached, "I’m--it--is all clean, Sir."

Standing next to me, I locked the chastity device back on it. Only a few more days of that, I thought to myself.

"Lay down on your back, slave," I said. As the slave laid down on the floor, I rose from my chair, then kneeled down between the slave's legs. I slipped off my underwear and was completely erect as I grabbed the slave's hairless ankles and lifted them to my shoulders. I pressed my penis to the slave's anus; it was pre-lubed for me, its hole already trained to accept my width. I slid in effortlessly, penetrating my slave fully. I put my face in the slave's neck and rubbed his smooth armpits as I fucked it. "My slave," I said, "My pussy slave." The slave's legs spread wide to accommodate me, its feet high in the air. The slave wrapped his arms around my shoulders and moved his hips with my motion. We both lived for this moment.

I fucked it with a measured and deliberate pace. Slowly, my breath increased and I pushed myself in as far as I could and held still. I felt it wrap himself closely around me; its hole tightened, sending me into an intense spasm of pleasure as I ejaculated into the slave. I let out a low groan as I blew two days of semen; it would prove to be the longest I would ever go without fucking my slave. The slave kept still, holding its hole tight with me still inside. Slowly, I relaxed on top of it, holding it against me before gradually sliding out my softening penis. It held my sperm tightly inside.

After a few minutes, I got up and sat in the chair, satisfied. I considered My slave, still lying at My feet. I loved fucking that ass, the selfish freedom I felt, the heightened sexual pleasure it brought me. I loved that My semen swam inside its ass, and that its sexuality was mine, completely controlled by Me. I looked down at my wet dick; the slave saw my signal and kneeled before me, licked me clean, and finally took the whole of my soft penis into its mouth and sucked out a last drop of semen. I leaned back in the chair and spread my legs a bit. The slave rested its head on my thigh as I relaxed and looked at the fire. I thought deeply for a few minutes; I realized that my thoughts were completely my own. I didn’t have to tell or share anything with the slave that I didn’t want to. The slave’s role was to serve me, however I wanted.

“Slave, I am very glad that you are here.” I lifted my head and looked him in the eyes. “I know that you have given me all that you were, are, or ever will be. Let go of everything, exist only to serve me. It’s odd, I know, but being a slave is a complete liberation. You have to worry about nothing except me and my needs. Understand, slave?”

“Yes Sir, it does, Sir, thank You, Sir,”

I rose, stepped over it, and slapped my thigh to signal the slave to follow. It did so wordlessly. In the bedroom, I pulled the covers back and laid on my belly on the bed.

"Lick my ass, slave," I ordered. The slave immediately began tonguing my hole. I had never had it do so before; it sunk its tongue into me and held my cheeks apart with its hands. While a Master, I had certainly had the odd experience as a bottom, and I had always enjoyed the feeling of having my ass licked. My slave was doing well; I intended for its mouth and my ass to be close friends.

"OK, slave, that's enough," I said, rolling onto my side. "Come up here," I said and motioned to the space beside me. The slave crept up and laid in my spoon. I wrapped my arms around it, pressed my groin against its ass, and held it tight. I felt my pubic hairs against the smooth ass, and then felt My penis grow hard again. Of course, I stayed awake most of the night, fucking the boy again and again.

With the sun high in the sky, I decided it was finally time to get up. I could have stayed there all day, fucking it non-stop. I had the slave lay on its back with some pillows under its ass to elevate it and allow My semen to trickle into it. I told the slave to stay in bed while I showered.

I returned to the room, cleaned and shaved, and put on some hiking boots, shorts and a long-sleeve T-shirt. It was sunny but would be a bit cool in the mountains: perfect for a day outside. The slave was still exhausted, sleeping with its ass in the air. Its ass and upper legs were a gooey mess of lube and spit, mucous and cum. The night had been fantastic, but I knew the day would be even better.

"Slave, I want you to get up slowly. Keep your ass tight and stand here by me." The slave woke, then carefully got off the bed and bounded to Me. As it stood in front of Me, I used a towel to wipe the mess off the slave's buttocks and thighs. I left the goo around its hole; I would probably need it later.

"All right, you're all set. Why don't you make the bed and straighten up? I'm going to make some coffee."

As I turned toward the kitchen, I saw the slave look down toward its genitals, still trapped in My chastity cage. Through a night of fucking, its little dick hadn’t been touched once. It was doing great job focusing on its ass and on Me inside it.

“How’s your dick, faggot?”

“Sir, it’s kind of amazing. Last night, it didn’t even think about its dick at all. It’s like it wasn’t even there. Sir.”

“Excellent, slave. You’re getting the idea,” I said. The slave had no idea how close he was to losing that dick for good.

As I made the coffee, it emerged from the bedroom. "Sir, may the slave urinate again, Sir?" it asked Me.

"Yes, but at least here at the cabin, I want you to piss outside." I took a swill of coffee and went out the door

I led the naked slave into the woods and stopped about twenty yards from the cabin. I pointed to the ground.

"You got a free pass last night slave, but only humans use a toilet to piss, and only Men stand. So squat down here and pee into the weeds. Do not touch yourself or use your hands to aim, but be careful not to piss on yourself or let the piss run onto your feet."

The slave squatted. Of course, I knew that I had set it up to fail. It had to keep its asshole tight to hold my cum inside, which would be hard after having My cock reaming it for most of the night, while at the same time it opened its bladder. That would be a hard trick on a good day. I could see it had to pee badly, but it was cold and embarrassed about peeing outside, especially while being watched. It closed its eyes and tried to relax one muscle but not the other.

"Come on slave, you dragged me out here. Maybe you didn't really have to pee, which I don't believe, you're trying to get me angry, or maybe you're pee shy for some reason. You have nothing to be shy or embarrassed about." I smiled and rubbed the head of the shivering slave, purposely increasing the psychological pressure on it. "You're my slave. You have no modesty and no privacy. Now piss, faggot."

The slave finally let loose a weak stream. It had trouble directing it through the cage, able to aim only by turning its hips. It accidentally shot some on my leg. Then, the puddle ran down the ground quickly, and lapped onto its feet. I thought that it might get by when its asshole suddenly loosened and it expelled some of My semen onto the ground beneath it.

The slave was stunned by its failure and suddenly desperate. "Oh, no, Sir, it’s very sorry, Sir."

It looked straight ahead, stood away from My slave and waited. I was calm, voice cold. "Faggot, there are a few ways I can play this right now. I can say, 'Well, it's its first day, its having trouble adjusting, blah, blah, blah.' I can say, 'Well, I'm the one who told it to do two things that are basically impossible to do at the same time: squat down to piss and hold cum in its ass. It's really my fault.' But I'm not going to say those two things. I'm going to say, 'Fucking faggot, it can't follow the simplest instructions!'" I was raging now, shouting at the slave. "You will have to be punished, do you understand? Now, what will you be punished for? For pissing on yourself: a little bit. For not holding My cum in Your ass like I’ve always told you: harder. For not opening your fucking mouth and telling me that one instruction is in conflict with another? definitely. Learn this lesson well, slave; I control your body, every last bit of it. You do as I desire, without fail. If you cannot for some reason, do as you are told, you will tell me what the fucking problem is. You could have said, 'Sir, it is afraid that it might not be able to hold Your semen in this position.' It might have said, 'Sir, the slave is afraid of being humiliated,' or ‘Sir, the slave is afraid that the piss might run onto its feet,’ or “Sir, the slave is afraid it might splash you as it pees.” I might not be happy about these things, but I'm a lot more eager to fix a little problem than punish you for something like this. Now, are you done pissing?"

"Sir yes Sir," the slave said meekly.

"Lick up my cum," I ordered.

"Sir?"

"You heard me, pussy lips, lick it back up. Swallow it."

The slave pivoted, fell to its knees and examined the spot where My cum had leaked out. The cum was on a patch of bare ground and had mixed with the flow of its piss. The slave put its face to the ground and sucked in the free liquid, then licked. Its mouth was soon full of dirt mixed with My cum and its piss.

"OK, come back with me," I said sharply. The slave followed behind me toward the cabin.

Near the steps to the front porch, I turned to it. "Sit here on the ground," I said, pointing to a stretch of bare ground near the steps. It sat down Indian-style and I climbed back inside the cabin.

The weather was getting more interesting. The sunshine of the early morning had given way to thick clouds, seemingly lower because of the high altitude. The temperature was falling and the wind was blowing more briskly, too. Already cold, I could see the slave shivering as I looked out the window at it.

I though it was perfect that the slave was cold and miserable. I figured it was hungry, which was also perfect. I went to the bedroom and pulled out the paddle I had brought along for just this sort of occasion, grabbed a bottle of water, then stepped onto the front porch.

"Up against that tree, faggot. Hug it tight."

The slave rose and stood facing the big tree in front of the cabin. It wrapped its arms around the trunk, just able to clasp its hands together on the other side.

I approached it from behind and laid a brutal whack across its buttocks. I heard it scream in agony, then wound up and delivered another pop, slightly less powerful, striking a little lower. I rubbed its suddenly reddened ass with my free hand.

"Faggot, you know why I am paddling you, correct?" I asked.

"Sir Yes Sir," the slave whimpered.

"What are you learning?" I demanded.

"Sir, it must tell You everything, Sir," it said.

"Good slave. Those first two were for pissing on me. The next three are for dropping My cum. The last five are for keeping secrets. Do you understand?"

"Sir Yes Sir," it answered weakly.

"Take some water, spit it out," I said as I poured water into the slave's mouth. The slave eagerly took the chance to rinse the dirt from its mouth. "Again," I demanded. When the slave spit it out again, I poured more in. "Swallow it this time, slave," I said harshly. As the slave swallowed, I set the bottle down.

The eight remaining paddles left the slave breathless. I didn’t spank it so hard that blisters were raised or the skin broken, but it would surely remember this nonetheless. It cried throughout the ordeal but I ignored its whimpers.

"Stay standing out here for a while, slave,” I said. “Consider what you have done and what you will improve upon.” I had grown tired myself from the paddling. I looked at the sky. It would be raining soon.

Inside, I made myself a sandwich, and looked out at My slave every few minutes. I didn't want to be too rough on it, but I didn't want to be too soft, either. Like a new puppy, you had to be firm from the beginning. I heard the rain on the roof. It was a gentle shower, certainly not a dangerous storm.

I stepped onto the porch again. "Stay there, slave, I'm going to let the rain clean the piss off," I shouted at My property.

"Sir Yes Sir," it replied.

I stepped back inside. I was tired; I didn't get enough sleep last night to begin with. And the rain always made Me sleepy. I laid back down on the sofa and fell fast asleep.

I awoke to find that an hour or more had passed. I sat up and looked out the window. The rain had stopped. My slave was wet and cold, but still holding the tree, its buttocks striped red. It would heal up nicely. My dick hardened looking at it. I felt refreshed. I had wanted to take my favorite hike, up over the crest of the mountain to the amazing view beyond. I looked at my watch. There was still plenty of time, even accounting for a shivering, naked, barefoot slave behind Me.

I put a couple of sandwiches and apples in My backpack, along with two bottles of water. There was virtually never anyone on the trail and on a cool, rainy weekday it was unheard of. Nonetheless, I rolled up a pair of My shorts for the slave, just in case, and slid them in next to My rain slicker. I put on a baseball cap and slid the pack over my shoulders. I grabbed another bottle of water before leaving the cabin.

"Follow me, slave," I said, handing it the bottle of water as I passed.

I walked briskly through the woods. The naked slave, trailing behind, had to be more careful of its steps, and stepped gingerly. Then, coming to a clear space, it would run to catch up to Me.

After perhaps twenty minutes, I led the slave from the forest onto a wider, better-marked trail. I stopped for a drink of water.

"Sir, may the slave ask a question, Sir?"

"Certainly, that’s why you got in trouble earlier, remember?" I said sternly.

"Sir, are You mad at the slave, Sir?" it asked plaintively.

I looked at it warmly. "You're going to fuck up, slave. Especially at the beginning, I expect you'll fuck up a lot. When you do, I am going to punish you, make sure you understand and are corrected, and then I'll go on. You should learn your lesson, put it behind you, and try harder next time. It's that simple." I reached for the slave and pulled it close to Me with one arm. "You are my property, my slave," I said, "even when you screw up. So, no, I'm not mad at you. OK?"

"Sir, thank You Sir. It's trying hard; it's all happened so fast, Sir," the slave said, starting to cry.

I held it with both arms now, "This is a happy, happy day, not a sad one. All you have to worry about is pleasing Me and keeping Me happy. You don't have to worry about anybody else, even yourself, because you are a part of Me now. So be happy, OK?"

"Sir Yes Sir. Sir, the thing is that it was so great this morning. It realized that You had fucked it all night long and it hadn't even thought of its own dick. It doesn't even know if it got hard or not, it was just You and its ass, Sir."

"Brilliant," I said warmly. "See, it is a great day, the first day of being My slave. OK, let's go, you should be able to keep up better on this trail. It’s mostly upslope, but not many rocks, so you can keep up with me."

We reached the view about an hour later. I could see that the slave was nearly exhausted. The boy might have been younger than me, but I had the advantage of fitness and footwear. I sat down on a smooth rock and took off My backpack. When the slave arrived, it squatted down next to Me.

I had always loved the expansive, unspoiled sight before me. With the clouds receding, the view was of the setting sun over the green mountains.

"Hungry, slave?" I asked, and handed the slave a sandwich, an apple and a bottle of water.

We ate wordlessly. I was in awe of the surroundings and genuinely happy to have My slave with Me. When we finished, I told the slave to collect the trash and put it back in the pack.

"Sir, may the slave piss again, Sir?" it asked.

"I trust you won't mess this up, faggot," I said. "Go back there," I said, pointing to the rocks behind. I watched the slave squat and piss, just as I had instructed. This time, there were no errors.

“Great job,” I said. “Now come over here, face that way, and lean against this rock.” I pointed to My right and had the slave face the open view while leaning against a big boulder. I got down from My perch, unzipped My shorts, freed My erect penis, and stepped behind the slave. Grabbing the water bottle I had left on the other rock, I poured some down the small of the slave’s back and watched it trickle down its crack. I worked some into the slave’s asshole to loosen it up and re-lubricate it. Then I quickly held the slave’s hips and penetrated its ass. I pushed to the end in one quick push.

The slave moaned loudly. Perhaps it was drier than before, perhaps the hike had tightened it up.

“I know it hurts,” I said in the slave’s ear, as I slowly, gently fucked it. “Concentrate on My dick. Think of how good your ass is making Me feel.” It breathed deeply, then arched its back and began to work its hole for its Owner.

For Me, all was just about perfect: the view in front of Me, the slave beneath Me. I had wanted a slave for so long, and had thought I would never get one. Now the boy was Mine. I reached around with my right hand and poked my fingers through its cock-cage. It was completely soft; soon I would eliminate the distraction of its penis entirely. I fucked the slave slowly, taking more time than usual, until finally the beauty of the afternoon overcame Me and I blew My semen into the boy’s ass.

After the slave licked me clean, I zipped Myself back up. “Stay kneeling down, faggot,” I ordered. I stepped behind the slave, bent over, and examined its bare feet. They were tender, scratched in places and a little bloody, but generally OK. I didn’t doubt it would make it back and heal quickly.

The slave was shivering again from the cold. It was cool up here, I thought to Myself. I picked up the back pack and put it on the slave’s back. “Let’s go,” I said.

The hike back down the trail went more quickly; I let gravity pull Me forward and the boy was close behind. For the last mile or so, I could tell that the cold and fatigue were beginning to catch up to the slave. It slowed down as it tried to avoid cutting its bare feet.

I was well in front of the slave when I reached the cabin. I grabbed a beer from inside, and sat on the steps to the porch to wait for it. As I opened the bottle, I noticed that the valley below the cabin was already in darkness. Soon it would be night. Finally, the slave stumbled into the clearing, its feet in agony.

“Come, slave, sit here beside Me.” The slave needed no encouragement to rest, and plopped down on a step beside its Master. It leaned forward and rested its head on its hands.

“Sit up straight, faggot.” I looked down at My slave: it was a mess. I thought it was probably thinking it had made a big mistake. I supposed it was time to turn on the sugar for a while, but I thought I’d enjoy the moment first. I took a deep breath.

“Well, faggot, it’s been an interesting day. I didn’t really intend to be so hard on you. Still, it was a useful day. Some days will be hard, some will be easy, it is completely out of your control. Understand?” I asked.

“Sir Yes Sir,” it said.

“Good, what are you thinking,” I asked.

“Sir, it’s tired, its back hurts, its feet sting, its ass is sore, it’s cold. But also, Sir, the hike was nice, and it is happy that You used the slave’s ass at the top, Sir.”

I smiled. I would be using that ass every chance I got.

“OK slave, it’s time for you to get cleaned up. Listen to me first. I want you to take a shower. Clean your feet well. I know they’re sore, but you have to get them completely clean. I’m going to leave your chastity cage on. Clean around it as best you can. Then shave and wash your inside. When you’re done, I want you to stay standing in the tub, and I’ll come for you. Do not towel off, do not call for me, just stand and wait. Can you do that for me?”

“Sir Yes Sir”

“OK go on,” I said. The slave rose and gingerly stepped inside; its feet were obviously hurting.

I sat on the porch and finished My beer. The wind had died down, at least on the lee side of the hill where the cabin sat. But with the sky clearing, the temperature was falling, though. It would be a cold, crisp night and morning.

I decided to change tacks with the slave. I had supposed that I should take away every creature comfort, tear its mind apart, and then rebuild it as My slave property. I was thinking of making the slave sleep outside, naked and exposed on the ground. In the morning, it would be stiff and sore and begging for mercy. I realized that wasn’t right—the slave had done everything it had been told to do. Even its one fuck up that morning had been more humorous than serious. I didn’t need to punish the slave just because I could, just because it was a slave. I should punish the slave when it fucked up. The slave was going to be a lot happier, and perform a lot more eagerly, if it felt better, if it had more fun, if it was more at ease. I would loosen up.

I thought of tonight: I would need to get dinner together, finish cleaning the slave, probably turn in early. I wanted to get going in the morning, and it always took longer than I supposed to pack everything up and close up the cabin. Of course, tomorrow I’d have some help.

I walked back inside, tossing the beer bottle in the trash can. The slave was standing in the shower, dripping wet, waiting for me.

“Done, slave,” I asked?

“Sir Yes Sir. All clean, Sir.”

“Excellent,” I said, smiling to the slave. I picked up the slave’s towel from the rack and began patting it dry. I put the towel above it and rubbed its shaved head, neck and shoulders. “Hands above your head,” I said as I rubbed the slave’s pits and sides. I bent down and patted the boy’s legs. “OK, turn around,” I said. I rubbed its back, then dried the slave’s ass, and spread its cheeks so I could see its asshole. It was red and swollen, but not bleeding. Its buttocks were red and raw. It would be sore for several days, I figured.

“Stay there for a second,” I said. I returned to My bag in the bedroom and retrieved a bottle of antiseptic and a clean pair of ankle-high gym socks.

“This might sting,” I announced. “Your feet need to be disinfected so they will heal a lot faster. Lift up your right foot and show it to me.” The slave shifted its weight to its left leg, then bent its knee and presented its right foot. I patted it dry with the towel and looked. It was cut in several places, punctured in others. I poured some of the antiseptic on the foot. The slave jerked away involuntarily, as I expected, but I held its ankle tight. I patted the liquid in with the cloth, then let the foot rest on the lip of the tub with the slave still standing on one leg.

“Let that sit for a minute to dry,” I said.

I set a dry towel on the floor, then held the right ankle again. “OK, slave, I want you to step one foot out of the shower. Put this foot down on the towel, lean against the other wall, and show me your left foot.”

The slave complied awkwardly. The left foot was equally cut up. I poured more antiseptic, rubbed it and set the foot against the lip of the tub.

“Hold it there for a second,” I ordered. “You’re doing great. I’m very proud of you.”

“I want you put these socks on, just for tonight,” I said. I watched as the slave slipped them over its injured feet. “OK, lube up your hole, then join me in the kitchen.”

Back in the kitchen, I directed the slave on how to help me. When it was finished, I made two plates. One I set on the table, the other on the floor.

“Go ahead and eat, slave,” I said, grabbing a napkin for Myself as I sat at the table. The slave sat obediently on the floor, in front of the plate.

Soon, the meal was done. The slave had food on its face, its hands, and on the floor. “Slave, clean all of this up. Wash and dry the dishes. Put everything away.” I rose from the table and sat in My chair in the living room. I was dead tired and still needed a shower before bed. I removed My boots and socks, freeing My sore feet. The sudden coolness felt good on them. I sat and watched the slave. It was a quick learner, I thought, and followed directions well. My bowel stirred.

“Slave, leave that for a minute, come with me,” I said, rising and walking into the bathroom.

I dropped My shorts and underwear on the floor and sat on the toilet, naked from the waist down. The slave stood watching, unsure of itself.

“Kneel, slave,” I said, “Put my dick in your mouth.” As it did, I released a small jet of My urine. “Swallow, faggot,” I ordered. The slave was surprised by the piss in its mouth, recovered quickly and swallowed.

“You like that taste, slave?” I asked. The slave nodded. “I’m going to piss some more. The secret to taking all of it is to not try to swallow at all. Take a deep breath. Open your throat, surrender to the piss and just let it flow into your stomach. Look at me!”

The slave’s eyes rolled up to meet Mine. “You think you can do that?” I asked. The slave nodded as it placed My penis in its mouth again and sucked it into its throat. In truth, urinating into another’s mouth is not easy. It is deeply taboo in our culture, and so requires a willful suspension of one’s normal inhibitions. Of course, it is helpful if the receiver is My inferior, or in this case, My property. I loosed the real stream. This time, I didn’t stop, but the slave did as I said and just let it run down its throat. As I loosed the piss, I expelled the waste from My bowel. I’m sure the slave, concentrating on My piss, nonetheless sensed the waste I was expelling. Finally, I stopped. I pushed the slave’s head away and stood up.

“OK, slave, back to your dishes,” I said before it trotted away. Someday, I would teach it to lick my ass clean, too, but for the moment, I was pleased with its performance.

Once again, I spent the night fucking the slave. I knew the desire for non-stop sex would wear off eventually, but wanted to take advantage of it while it lasted. In the morning, we loaded up the truck and closed the cabin. I had the slave put the ashes from the fireplace, along with the shoes, belt, and other things that wouldn’t burn, into a big plastic bag. On the way back, we dropped them in a big dumpster at a supermarket. We would be home before noon, in time to make an appointment that would transform My slave.