Sex Dare: Can I Suck Your Dick? [B]

by Hungry Guy

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, NonConsensual, Heterosexual, BDSM, DomSub, MaleDom, Rough, Humiliation, Sadistic, Torture, Oral Sex, Water Sports, Scatology, Violent, .

Desc: Sex Story: Cruel women dare each other to give blowjobs to shy guys, then blow the guys off afterward. One guy takes revenge against their cruel prank.


Foreword: This is a work of fiction. None of the people in this story are real. None of these events ever happened. This story is nothing more than words that came from my imagination. Any similarity to any real people, places, or events is purely coincidental.

Operators of erotic story web sites, whether free or fee-based, have my permission to post my stories for public reading, provided that credit is given to "Hungry Guy" (hungry@stoolmail.zzn.com or hungryguy@literotica.org) as the author, and as long as you don't make changes other than fixing typos. Even beware of fixing typos, for I occasionally use local slang and dialects that may be flagged by your spell checker. Thanks.

Ned was hanging out at Crazy Eddie's (the bar; not the defunct audio dealer) on Friday night after work. Wearing his favorite Quark's Bar tee shirt and jeans, he was leaning against the rail of the balcony overlooking the dance floor below as My Dying Bride assaulted his ears from the huge Klipsch speakers hanging from the ceiling.

Being a shy geeky guy, he never had any luck with women -- never been laid; never even had a girlfriend. Occasionally, he would build up the courage to ask a girl to dance, but the excuses got more bizarre every time: she has to wash her hair first, or she's having surgery in the morning, or she has to go home to wash her dog.

So Ned didn't come here to meet women -- just to have a drink, watch the people, listen to the music, and play a few arcade games over in the game room.

He took a sip of his beer when an attractive woman walked over to him, laughing hysterically.

"Hi," she said before letting out an explosive laugh.

"Yeah, what?" he said with deliberate impatience in his voice.

He looked her over while she took control of her laughing fit. She was "hot", as guys would say. She was tall and athletic-looking, slender but not skinny. Knock-out face, big brown hard eyes, puffy lips, and shoulder-length light-brown hair. Dressed to kill, too, in a black tank top and tight jeans with several inches of bare tight belly between each. Her tits weren't huge, but they stood out were nice and firm in her tight top. The little gold ring in her navel made for a nice finishing touch.

He was about to just walk away when she leaned close and whispered in his ear, "Can I suck your dick?" and burst out laughing again.

Ned knew when he was being teased, though he had never seen this woman before and was wondering why she had it in for him. He started to turn to walk away when she touched his arm.

"Wait! Can I?" she asked again and let out a giggle.

Ned opened his mouth to start to say, "Fuck you!" but then decided not to cause a scene. He just turned again and tried to walk away from the bully.

She rushed around and stopped in front of him. "You think giggle I'm teasing you, giggle don't you?"

"Uh, huh!" Ned answered with a tinge of anger in his voice.

"Look, giggle my friends and I are doing sex dares. snort And I got'ta suck your dick or I lose."

"Really?"

"Yeah! Really! You look like you're here alone. You're not married, or got a girlfriend, or anything, do you?"

"Uhm, no," he answered defensively.

"Then c'mon! I promise you'll like it! giggle"

"You're really serious?" he asked, not really believing her.

"Yeah! I'm fucking serious!" she insisted with a tinge of annoyance in her own voice.

"All right," he answered guardedly. "Where? Not right here, I hope."

"Back in one of the private booths," she answered.

Ned knew that Crazy Eddie's had a special section lined with private booths for small groups. They were just that, too, booths like at a diner where two to four people could to eat, drink, and perhaps do other activities, in private. They were pretty cheap too, for about $20, you could have a private booth for the night.

"Okay," Ned said again.

She grabbed his hand and led him through the crowd and stopped amid four other women. "I got him," she told the others.

"Okay," one of the other women said, "we'll be waiting right here, Paula."

Another of the woman looked at him and asked, "What's your name?"

"Ned," he answered, and, for some reason, that drew a combined laugh from all of them.

"C'mon, Ned," Paula said as she pulled him away from her friends.

Paula led Ned over to the door where a bouncer stood guard. The bouncer, apparently recognizing Paula, let them through into the private section.

Ned suddenly panicked. What if this woman was going to rob him, or worse -- how often does a woman just up and ask a strange guy if she can suck his dick?

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"Nothing," he answered.

"Don't worry. I won't hurt you! Promise!"

Ned followed Paula down a corridor lined with frosted glass windows and doors, ensuring privacy for the occupants, then around a corner with another corridor with more of the same. She stopped in front of booth 42 and opened the door. Inside was a tiny carpeted room with cushioned wooden bench seats against each side wall. The table was folded up against the back wall.

Closing and locking the door, Paula said, "Okay, boy, drop 'em!"

"Drop what?" Ned asked, his voice squeaking.

"Your pants, silly."

"Look," Ned said, smiling at her, "you don't really have to suck my dick for a dare. I'll tell your friends you did it anyway."

"What? You don't want it? You gay or something?" she asked with slight annoyance.

"No! I'm not gay!" Ned said defiantly.

"So, c'mon, then!" she urged. "Look, that was nice of you, but I got to show my friends your cum in my mouth."

Ned swallowed and unbuckled his jeans. He let them drop and then fingered the waistband of his briefs as he felt his face turn red.

Paula kneeled in front of Ned and looked up at him. "C'mon! Don't be shy! Let me see it!" she urged with a smile.

Ned pulled his briefs down, letting them fall to his feet onto his jeans, showing her his limp cock.

"Oh, so you're going to make me work for it, huh?" she asked with a smirk.

"Sorry, but I'm really nervous," he said.

"You're nervous? You! Jeez!" she said as she grabbed his limp member with her right hand. She thumbed it back and forth a few times, bringing it slightly to life.

Ned gasped when she next opened her mouth and leaned forward, engulfing his member and closing her lips at its base.

She began bobbing her head back and forth, sliding his cock in and out. He felt his cock grow quickly hard at this treatment. She continued sucking, and he cautiously rested his hands on her head and then ran his fingers through her thick soft brown hair. She didn't seem to object as she continued bobbing and sucking.

Ned felt the pressure build in his loins as she continued her assault. Not only was she sliding his cock back and forth, she was also sucking and swirling it with her tongue. Oh man, that felt so good!

The pressure built up quickly, but he was enjoying this so much that tried to hold his climax in check. But when she slid her tongue against the base of his cock-head and pressed the tip of her tongue gently into his pee hole, spreading the opening slightly, it was more than he could stand. He finally exploded into her mouth. His cock throbbed and his body quaked as he squirted wad after wad into Paula's mouth, splattering against her tongue and against the back of her throat, while he moaned, "Oh! Oh! Oh!"

His cock finally shot its last wad as Ned sighed, "Wow!"

Paula slid her mouth off Ned's cock and stood.

"That felt so good!" he told her.

She shrugged in answer as cum oozed from her lips. Then she rushed out the door and disappeared down the hall.

Ned started to pull his briefs and jeans back up, but hesitated when he realized what a cummy mess his cock was. Looking around for a paper napkin or tissue, he saw none, so he just pulled them up and buckled his belt. Wow! What a once-in-a-lifetime experience!

He opened the door, wondering where his new girlfriend went. He looked up and down the corridor, but it was vacant, so he closed the door and waited for her to return for him.

After about ten minutes, the door opened. One of Paula's friends was with some tall skinny guy with thick black glasses who was wearing a Play Station tee shirt.

"What are you still doing here?" she asked.

"I'm waiting for Paula to come back," he answered.

"Oh. Paula's probably out in the bar looking for you," she said with a giggle.

"Thanks," Ned said to them, and left the booth. He returned to the balcony but couldn't see Paula or her other friends anywhere.

He walked up to the railing and looked down on the crowd below. Ah There she is, seeing Paula and her friends over at the food window getting Pizza.

He struggled through the crowd down the stairs over to the food window and over to Paula. Paula gave him an icy stare as he walked up to her with a big grin on his face.

"Hi," he said to her, "I was waiting for you up on the room. I didn't know you were waiting down here."

"Get lost, creep!" she scolded him.

"What?" he squeaked. "Paula? What happened? Why are you mad at me now?"

"You got your blowjob," she hissed at him. "Now get the fuck away from me!"

Her remaining friends stepped between Ned and Paula. One of them said, "You heard her, dork! Get lost!"

Another said, "Isn't Star Trek on now? Go home! You're missing it!" and broke out into obscene laughter.

Ned backed away from the women as tears welled up in his eyes. Of course Star Trek was on now -- didn't those bitches know what a VCR was for? With his head down so that no one in the bar could see him crying, he rushed toward the door and out to his station wagon.

He got in the car and started the engine, but just sat there crying. But after a while his sorrow turned to anger.

He backed his car out, but instead of leaving, he drove farther to the back of the lot where the asphalt was cracked and uneven, and was poorly lit. He shut off the engine and went to the rear of his station wagon. He lowered the tailgate and tugged on a black trunk that he hadn't opened in years and stored it in his car for lack of anywhere else convenient to store the bulky thing. He opened the trunk and sorted through the items within. About ten minutes later he was costumed as the most loathsome of performers: a mime. He then grabbed some jump ropes to use as props.

He had won second prize in some college contest for this act many years ago, and hoped he hadn't become rusty. He also hoped that the popular misconception that being a nerd equaled being a klutz worked in his favor.

In black pants, prison-striped shirt, bright green hair, face covered with white stage makeup, floppy hobo shoes, and big red nose, he went over to the entrance of the bar and began his act. As people came and left the bar, he danced on the sidewalk pretending to be trapped inside a glass box. A small crowd of people started to collect around him, even though the crowd changed faces every few minutes.

In a moment of panic, he though that the bouncers who exited the bar at one time were going to chase him away, but they just watched and laughed for a few minutes before returning back inside.

He grew tired as the hours passed, but he didn't do anything really tiring during his patient wait. Besides, it was a rush entertaining people and drawing a crowd in public.

His reward finally appeared. Paula and the others came out of the bar

He had, at the ready, an allergy inhaler attached to a small helium canister. Pretending to have a momentary shortness of breath, he took a couple of whiffs, then he launched into his second act. He picked up the jump rope and began doing tricks.

He realized that his plan wasn't foolproof. In fact, he knew his effort would probably be for nothing, but it was worth a shot.

Fortunately, Paula and her friends stopped to watch. He was relieved that his jump rope skills came back to him.

He was careful not to pay much attention to Paula and even played up to some other women on the other side of him coming from the parking lot toward the bar. While keeping an eye on Paula and her friends, he played up to the rest of the crowd deliberately ignoring his targets.

Then, as Paula and her friends lost interest and started to move toward the parking lot, he "accidentally" let it brush against Paula's leg as she walked past, whereupon he feigned a fall to the ground flat on his face.

Phew, the first, easy, part of his plan worked. Next, it depended on the bitch having at least a tiny bit of a heart, which he doubted.

"OhmyGod!" Paula screamed and kneeled down to him. "I'm so sorry! Are you all right?" she shrieked.

"Oof!" he spoke in his helium-induced cartoon voice. "You should watch your step, young woman!"

"Oh dear, I'm sorry, sir," she repeated.

To his frustration, everybody else was crowding in, "Let me help..." "Do you need help?" "Here, let help you..."

To Paula, he just squeaked, "I just twisted my ankle. I'll be okay. Can you just help me to my car?"

"Sure, no problem." she agreed.

To his relief, her friends said, "We'll wait for you at the car, Paula."

Ned picked up his ropes and put his arm across Paula's shoulder, and she put her arm around his waist. He then limped through the parking lot to his car, assisted by Paula.

By the time they reached the rear of the lot, no one else was around. He limped up to the rear of the wagon holding onto Paula. He turned the handle, letting the tailgate drop. Then in a deft sequence that he had played out in his mind over and over again while he was miming for the past hour, he placed Paula between himself and the tailgate, and pushed her in. She fell on her back and he quickly jumped on her and tied her ankles with the rope.

"Hey!" she screamed. He quickly climbed onto her body and crawled up to her head. He sat his ass right on her face to keep her quiet and then tied her hands with the other rope.

While remaining on her face, as her arms flailed and her body bucked, he reached into his trunk and pulled out a few more ropes. He then tied her wrists to her ankles, forcing her into a fetal position. He removed one more rope. He tied a knot into the middle, then tied that knot into a bigger knot. He got off her face and shoved that big knot into her mouth and then tied the rope tightly around the back of her head.

Finally he covered her with a couple of blankets that kept in his car for emergencies.

He closed the tailgate and got in front and started the engine.

Being a nerd had its advantages in other ways. He often used the short dirt road that led from the rear of the parking lot to a back road to avoid the traffic on the main street. Few people used or even seemed to know about the rear exit. It seemed that such small details of the world are the exclusive agency of geekdom.

He slowly left the lot via the back road, without even turning his lights on until after he got onto the road.

He made his way down the back road onto a side street, and pulled onto the main street a few blocks away from the bar. Once on the main street, he slid Misanthrope into the CD player and cranked Rest In Pieces.

He arrived home about a half-hour later and pulled into his garage.

He dropped the tailgate and pulled the shaking and terrified woman out by her ankles and let her fall to the concrete floor with a thud!

He pulled her over the threshold by her ankles into his kitchen, then slid her headfirst partly above the first step to his basement. Then, ensuring he had a good grip on her ankles, he pushed her over the step, and slowly walked down the steps letting her bound and gagged body slide down the steps, one by one.

Once to the basement floor, he unlocked a door, dragged her into finished room, and turned on the light, revealing a BDSM-lover's dream dungeon. He pulled her to the middle of the floor and hooked a pair of suspension cuffs to her ankles. Then he pressed a button on the wall to lower a thin steel cable from a winch in the middle of the ceiling and hooked it to the cuffs. Lastly, he pressed an adjacent button, until she was completely suspended, upside-down, from the ceiling.

She looked comical, hanging by her ankles, with her wrists and ankles bound together with rope, and a rope tied around her head with a knot in her mouth. The only noise she made, could make, was a barely audible, "Mmmm! Mmmmm!"

At that, he yawned and looked at his watch. He turned off the light, locked the door behind him, and returned upstairs.

He took a quick shower and went to bed, pleased to finally have a girlfriend.


Though he usually liked to sleep late on weekends, he woke early Saturday morning to play with his new toy.

Skipping breakfast, he headed downstairs and unlocked his dungeon.

There it was, still hanging upside down grunting and swinging wildly, as if that would help it.

He saw its eyes go wide in recognition as it saw his face for the first time (or was it the second time?) without his mime makeup on.

He sniffed the air as he walked up to it, "What stinks?" he asked aloud as he stood next to it.

"Mmmmmm! Mmmmmmm! Mmmmmmm!" it replied,

"Your clothes are soaked," he said noticing that its clothes were wet from its crotch down its chest. Then he noticed its hair dripping onto a small yellow puddle directly under its head.

"You pissed yourself? You worthless slab of female meat!" he yelled at it. Then he kicked it in the side of the head, not hard enough to break anything, but hard enough to hurt.

Then he untied the ropes that bound its wrists to its ankles and let its arms drop down. Next, he untied its wrists from each other. Then, he untied the rope that tied its ankles together, leaving it still dangling by its ankles by the ankle cuffs. Then he untied the rope from around its head.

"You fucking bastard! Who the fuck do you think you are?" it screamed at him.

He kicked it in the head again, saying, "Shut up, slut! You make another sound and I'll kick you in the head so hard your skull will crack!"

He then grabbed its tank top and yanked, ripping it off. Then he ripped its bra off, letting its boobs hang upside-down pointing down to its chin.

Its jeans were too thick to just rip off with his bare hands, so he took a scalpel and sliced them down the outside of each leg. Then he ripped its panties off.

He walked over to the other end of the room and pulled out a garden hose. Dragging the hose over, he began rinsing it off with the icy cold water, letting the water drain into a drain in the floor directly under its head.

"C-c-c-cold!" it shivered.

"What did I say about talking, cunt?" he asked as he kicked it again, harder this time, but still not hard enough to break its skull.

"Please," it begged, "don't kick me again. Please! I'll be your girlfriend. I'll give you blowjobs every day. Just let me down. Please!"

This time, he kicked it in the head without even answering.

As it swung back and forth from his last kick to its head, he unzipped his pants, pulled his dick out, and pissed on it, aiming down at its chest and chin.

It immediately began coughing and sputtering when he managed to direct the stream directly into one of its upward-pointing nostrils.

"Get used to it, slut!" he yelled. "You're mine now! Your body is my fuck toy from now on! You'll remain naked at all times while at home. The only time you'll ever wear clothes again will be if I take you out for some reason."

Ned returned upstairs and logged on to his computer. While he had built a well-equipped dungeon, he hadn't anticipated owning a genuine non-consensual slave. He had to order a lot of additional bondage gear from assorted BDSM suppliers to train and control it.

Ned had wondered if there would be news of a missing woman over the next few days. Indeed, there was tragic news. A car full of young women out for a night on the town had lost control late at night and plunged 200 feet off a bridge and burst into flames at the bottom of a ravine leading to the harbor.

The news was showing recent photographs of the five victims, Corinne, Fran, Paula, Sue, and Wendy. Of the five women, only three bodies were recovered. All three were burned beyond recognition. The driver was trapped inside the car, while the four passengers had been blown out of the car when the gas tank exploded. One burnt body was found on the bank not too far from the point of impact. Another was found washed up about a mile away. A few burnt body parts were scattered around the scene. Police found empty beer bottles and drug paraphernalia in the vehicle. While inconclusive due to the badly burned bodies, autopsies had suggested that all three had been intoxicated at the time of the crash. The two other women were never found and were presumed washed out to sea with the tide. Sharks had also been spotted in the bay, perhaps attracted to the scent of meat and blood.

Reporters nosing around the bar they were last seen at spoke of a mime show that night, but the women, themselves, were faceless and nameless bar patrons whom no one remembered.

Ned's conscience had been troubled a little, but only a little, by what he was doing to his captive. The news comforted him, in a morbid way, in knowing that, had he not captured and enslaved it, it would have died a gruesome death with its four friends in that fiery crash.

The next couple of weeks passed uneventfully while he waited for his new supplies. In the meantime, he occasionally lowered it onto a large table, shackled it down spread-eagle, climbed on top of it, and fucked it. Sometimes, he would put on a rubber and fuck it in its cunt. But since rubbers were messy and dulled the sensation, he would, more often, climb on it with his hips over its face and fuck it in the mouth. Bearing down under the full weight of his body by his crotch on its jaw, his cock jammed deep down its throat, it would buck wildly as he rode it. And occasionally, he would strap it down on its chest, lubricate its ass thoroughly with KY jelly, and fuck it in the asshole. He slapped it, whipped it, or kicked it, if it tried to speak or make any sounds, and it learned to remain silent.

When he wasn't fucking it, it remained hanging from its ankles. He fed it water and dog food once each day. He also rinsed its piss, and his piss, off it every couple of days.

When the last of his orders had arrived, he opened all his packages on a table in his dungeon and spread everything out. He spent several hours mounting electronic equipment around the room, then he placed several leather garments in a drawer.

The next thing he did was to place a special electronic collar around Fuck's neck, and hook a padlock though the buckle.

"Bitch," Ned said to it.

It looked up at him in silence, and he smiled down at it.

"Say something," he ordered its.

"Wha... Aaaaa! Aaaaaaa! Aaaaaaa..." it screamed.

"Quiet!" he ordered. "That's what'll happen if you utter a sound. And the pain will continue until you are silent."

It silenced its screaming, yet panted heavily as if trying to catch its breath.

"One more thing," he said. "See this fob in my hand?"

It nodded a yes.

"Watch."

He pressed a button on the fob.

"Aaaaa! Aaaaaaa!" it screamed.

"That's what'll happen if you disobey me," he said to it.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaa..."

"You're forgetting the pain will continue for as long as you make noise."

Again, it stopped screaming, and returned to panting.

"Good toy!" he said. "Oh? Didn't I tell you I'm changing your name? Your name is now Fucktoy, because that's what you are. You are nothing more than a fuck toy, a cheap object that exists only for my amusement. Now, in a minute, I'm going to let you down. But there's something you should know first. Not only do you get pain for talking or if I press this button; you also get pain if you get too far away from that transmitter on the wall, or if you walk through that door. Do you understand?"

It nodded yes.

"That's not good enough, Fucktoy. When I ask a question, you must answer, 'yes' or 'no'. The pain will only last a second, unless you start screaming."

Fucktoy swallowed and opened its mouth to answer, but it only began quaking in fear.

"Answer my question, Fucktoy," he said and pressed the button.

"Aaaaaaa!" it screamed.

"I'm going to hold this button down until I hear you answer my question, Fucktoy."

"Aaaaaaaayyyyeesss!" it screamed and then closed its mouth.

"Good toy, but next time, I'll expect a simple 'yes' or no' without any screaming. Do you understand?"

Fucktoy paused before yelping out a quick, "Yes," and twitching and gasping for breath.

"Excellent, Fucktoy!" he told it.

Next, Ned lowered Fucktoy down onto the floor. With its ankles still shackled together, he grabbed its wrist and led it, hobbling, over to a gurney.

"Lay on this table, Fucktoy," Ned told it.

Fucktoy lay on the table, naked except for the collar. Ned then shackled Fucktoy to the table by its wrists and ankles then strapped it down with several belts. He went over to one of his recently opened packages and removed some new implements. Then he returned to its side and pushed its head down sideways.

"Now, Fucktoy," he told it, "I'm going to mark you as my property. It's going to hurt like a son of a bitch, but remember what'll happen if you make any noise, okay?"

Fucktoy closed its eyes and nodded as a tear dropped from its eye down the side of its head.

With scalpel in hand, Ned carved a stylized "NED" in Fucktoy's right cheek. He actually made two strokes for each line of the design, resulting in a V-gouge for each mark of the design.

It took a while, because Fucktoy occasionally bucked at the pain, and he also had to wipe its blood off. After about an hour of slow painstaking work, Ned finally completed placing his mark on Fucktoy's cheek.

Yet, he wasn't finished. Next, Ned carved in block letters, "Fucktoy, property of, Ned" on its left arm just below its shoulder.

Ned placed bandages on its cheek and shoulder, went upstairs, and called it a day.

The following day, Ned returned to his dungeon. He removed the bandages from Fucktoy's cheek and shoulder. Next, Ned took a high-power soldering iron, and let it get hot. After the iron had got good and hot, he traced the design on Fucktoy's cheek and his writing on its shoulder.

Afterward, Ned told it, "Fucktoy, you were very well behaved. I have a reward for you."

Fucktoy looked up at him with a smile.

It got on the table and lay down as instructed.

Ned pulled out a gigantic dildo and a leather harness. He pressed the dildo to Fucktoy's asshole and slowly pushed it in, deeper and deeper.

Fucktoy began crying in pain, "Please -- sir -- hurts! I -- beg -- you -- no!"

Ned slapped Fucktoy on the back of the head and then pushed the monster dildo up its ass with one final shove.

Next, Ned took a leather harness and wrapped it around Fucktoy's hips and between its legs, clipping it to the end of the huge dildo so that Fucktoy couldn't shit the dildo out.

"Now," Ned said, "I'm going to use my fuck toy as a cum sponge."

A long time ago, Ned had ordered a custom-made leather harness from a BDSM web site. He had never dared hope that he would ever get actually use it, but he eagerly rooted through his BDSM gear until he found it. But first, Ned grabbed an adult diaper and put it on Fucktoy.

"Now get off the table and squat in front of me, you worthless example of womankind," he ordered it.

First Ned clamped a jaw-spreader into Fucktoy's mouth, turning the bolt until its mouth was stretched open impossibly wide.

Then Ned placed his custom harness over Fucktoy's head. He buckled the belts until it fit snug, holding the cock-ring over Fucktoy's mouth.

Another harness hung loose, attached to that same cock-ring, dangling from Fucktoy's chin. Ned stepped into the second harness, sliding his cock through the cock-ring into Fucktoy's gaping mouth. He buckled the harness around his hips and between his legs, holding his cock snugly inside Fucktoy's mouth.

Ned entered a code on his fob so that Fucktoy could leave the dungeon without getting shocked. Then, with Fucktoy's mouth snugly attached to his cock, he slowly walked out of the dungeon and up stairs, pushing it to crawl on its legs in front of him.

Ned walked into the kitchen, nuked a pizza, grabbed a case of Guinness, and finally made his way into his living room.

He settled down on the sofa and turned on the Star Trek marathon on TNN.

He ate his pizza and drank beer after beer as countless battles raged on TV between Klingons, Romulans, Borg, Ferengi, and others throughout the night.

Ned didn't remember when he fell asleep, but he woke the next morning with a splitting hangover. Empty bottles of beer littered his coffee table, and the Star Trek marathon had been replaced with a Gary The Rat marathon something during the morning.

"Oh man!" he muttered as he started to stand, but fell back being that Fucktoy's mouth was still firmly strapped to his cock by that custom dual harness, with her head between his thighs on the sofa cushion.

"On your knees, cunt," he ordered it and tried to stand again.

"Eww!" he muttered as he stepped into a moist spot between her legs.

"You stupid bitch!" he yelled at it. "You pissed on the carpet!"

Ned unbuckled Fucktoy's mouth from his cock and told it to get out the carpet cleaner and clean the carpet while he got himself some aspiring and a bite to eat.

"Change your loaded diaper while you're at it too, worthless slab of meat!" he also told it.

After Fucktoy had cleaned the carpet, he brought it back down to the dungeon and hung it by its ankles and then returned to bed.

He returned to the dungeon the following day to play with his fuck toy again. He lowered it, and released its ankles from the shackles. He even removed the harness around its waist and removed the giant dildo from its asshole.

"I have a special treat for my fuck toy," he told it, and it smiled back at him.

"No more dog food and water. From now on you get special food made by my body."

Ned hadn't fed Fucktoy solid food since before the Star Trek marathon yesterday, and knew that it must be starving, and maybe even thirsty.

"Are you thirsty, Fucktoy?" Ned asked.

"Yes," it squeaked and grimaced.

"Then take a seat at this table," Ned told it. He took a plastic cup and plate out of a cabinet and set them on the table in front of Fucktoy. He also set a plastic knife, fork, and spoon next to the plate. He then unzipped his pants, took the cup, held the cup under his cock, pissed into the cup.

"Here you go, Fucktoy," he said as he handed it the cup, "you may drink this."

Fucktoy looked to be in shock as it took the cup from Ned's hand. "Now, Fucktoy. What do you say for such a precious gift from your owner?"

"Thank," it gasped, followed by, "you -- sir."

"Now drink it, Fucktoy," Ned told it.

Fucktoy raised the cup to its lips and drank Ned's pee once again.

Fucktoy's stomach growled at that moment, and Ned asked, "Are you hungry, Fucktoy?"

Fucktoy hesitated a second before squeaking, "Yes."

"All right, Fucktoy, give me a minute to prepare your dinner," Ned answered.

Ned went over to one corner of his dungeon and slid out one of those portable toilet chairs that old people use. He rinsed out the bowl under the toilet seat and replaced it. Ned then pulled down his pants and took a seat. After a few minutes of grunting, a foul odor filled the dungeon. Ned stood, wiped his ass and tossed the toilet paper into the trash and removed the bowl from under the chair. He emptied the contents of the bowl onto that plastic plate.

"Here's your dinner, Fucktoy. Let me refresh your drink."

Ned picked up the cup, unzipped his pants, squirted a few more drops of piss into it, and set it back down on the table.

"There you go, Fucktoy. Enjoy your dinner," Ned said.

Fucktoy just sat there with its mouth agape and its eyes open wide. It kept looking back and forth up at Ned and down at the plate full of his shit.

"Go ahead, Fucktoy," Ned urged. "Eat your dinner."

Ned picked up the fob and motioned to press the button.

Fucktoy immediately picked up a knife and fork, and cut a tiny slice of shit off the pile of turds on its plate.

Fucktoy grimaced as it raised the turd to its mouth on the fork and bit it off the fork. Fucktoy chewed a little then swallowed, and then looked as if it was about to puke.

With pain-fob in hand, Ned urged it, "Go on Fucktoy, take another bite of your dinner."

Fucktoy cut another slice of turd and ate it.

"Take a drink if you need to, Fucktoy," Ned suggested. It lifted the cup and took a sip of piss to wash down the last bits of turd.

"Okay, Fucktoy," I'll leave you to finish your dinner. "By the way," Ned added as he opened the door. "I have a camera in this room," pointing to a camera hanging from the ceiling, "and you'll be punished if you don't finish your dinner."

At that, he left the dungeon, locking the door behind him, and returned upstairs.

The following day, Ned reviewed the surveillance tape and observed that Fucktoy ate its dinner. He then returned to the dungeon carrying a pen and pad of yellow legal paper.

"Fucktoy," he told it as he handed it the pad and paper, "You are to write on this paper one thousand times, "I am a worthless turd of female meat."

Fucktoy took the pen and paper, answering, "yes -- sir."

"I'll be back later, and you had better be finished," he told it.

That evening, Ned returned as Fucktoy was finishing its assignment.

"You're not done yet, cunt?" Ned asked in anger.

"One -- more -- page -- sir," it begged.

"Very well," Ned answered and sat. He took the fob in hand and held the button down.

"Aaaaaaa!" Fucktoy screamed.

"I'll release the button when you finish your assignment."

Fucktoy struggled, shaking and shivering, and put the pen to the paper and struggled to continue writing.

It took nearly an hour for Fucktoy to finish that last page and hand it to Ned.

Ned held the button down as he counted the pages, checking that all 32 lines on each page were used.

Ned counted 32 full pages, for 1024 times having written the line, and then released the button.

Fucktoy fell to the floor panting.

"Well?" he demanded.

"Thank -- you -- sir," Fucktoy leaned up and answered.

"As your reward for completing your assignment, I have good news for you, Fucktoy."

Fucktoy smiled up at him.

"I'll be feeding you fresh from the source from now on."

Ned pulled out another contraption from a storage room off the dungeon. It was a 6'-long 6"-high padded platform with a wooden toilet mounted on one end. Ned unlatched some latches on the wooden toilet and swung it up and over.

"Lay down in that, Fucktoy," he told it.

Fucktoy sat on the platform and lay back, setting its head in the half-open box. Ned closed the box over its head, framing its face in the toilet seat. Ned latched the box closed, then shackled Fucktoy's wrists and ankles to the platform.

"Man, I gotta shit bad," Ned said, and sat on the toilet. He squirmed around a little until he had positioned his asshole directly over Fucktoy's mouth.

He grunted and pushed out a lump of shit. It oozed through his anus, through Fucktoy's lips into its mouth. He took another breath and pushed out another log. Then another. Then another.

Fucktoy had started to buck and struggle in the shackles.

"Stop struggling, Fucktoy! I'm not done yet."

Ned figured that its lungs must be screaming for air by then, so he squeezed out one last little turd, and lifted his ass off its face.

Fucktoy began panting and catching its breath as soon as Ned stood. A moment later, Ned sat back down on its face, this time, he slid his dick into its mouth. He pissed and then stood.

"What do you say, Fucktoy," Ned asked it.

"Thank -- you -- sir," it gasped out.

He left Fucktoy locked in the toilet bench for the rest of the week and used it as his toilet regularly.

Later that week, Ned had Fucktoy sit in a chair by the sink in the dungeon. Producing a box of hair care products, he cut its hair short like a man's haircut. Then he washed and bleached its hair, including its eyebrows.

The following day, he repeated the procedure, but instead of bleaching its hair and eyebrows, he dyed it a punk green.

During the week, Ned stopped at Home Depot on his way home from work one evening. He purchased four 1/4" brass eyebolts, related brass washers and nuts, and an extra-long 1/4" drill bit. When he arrived home, he filed one small groove down the threads of each eyebolt. Then he placed the hardware in his Autocalve.

The following day, he went down to his dungeon where he had left Fucktoy manacled to the Saint Andrew's cross overnight. He released it from the cross and told it to lie on the table. He removed the sterilized hardware from his Autoclave and set them on a sterilized towel in preparation for surgery. Then he placed Fucktoy's arm and hand in two wooden clamps. He inserted the bit in his power drill and held the bit to Fucktoy's arm just above its wrist. Fucktoy screamed as Ned drilled a 1/4" hole through its skin, through its radius bone, and out the other side of its arm. As blood gushed out, he slid one of the eyebolts through the hole in Fucktoy's wrist, with the eyebolt on the upper side of its arm and with a nut and washer at each end. He tightened the nuts and brushed some super glue between each of the two washers and Fucktoy's skin to act like liquid suture. The groove in the screw thread would keep the bolt from turning once the bone grew back around it. He repeated the procedure to Fucktoy's other arm. Then he mounted the two remaining eyebolts through its tibia bones with the eyebolt on the outside of each of its ankles.

In the future, Ned would be able to shackle Fucktoy to the cross with the eyebolts in its wrists and ankles instead of using flimsy leather cuffs.

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