“Think. Of. The. Women. You. Raped.”
The images came up and as they did I kneed him hard in the balls. He started to keel over but I commanded him to stay exactly as he was.
“Spread. Your. Legs. Apart.”
I pulled up all those feelings of shame he buried so deep. The fear of inferiority that motivated his abusive behaviour.
I grabbed his tiny, flaccid penis and balls and pulled hard, digging my nails in at the same time.
“THIS is what you used to seduce and trick Vivian. THIS is what you used to impregnate Juanita. THIS is what you used to rape all those women. And you know deep down that THIS is the most pathetic excuse for a cock any of those women have ever seen.”
This wasn’t a thought I was implanting. It was his thought. His deep fear. His shame. I just made him hear it.
He was terrified. Humiliated. Panicking. No words anymore, from either his mouth or from inside his head. My voice boomed in there and he had no power of speech which could combat it. His mind was animal emotion, basic fear. No longer a “fight” response, now he wanted so badly to flee. To escape. And yet he couldn’t move.
“And now, you’re never going to use THIS again.”
Not fear now. Concern. Worry. Words formed in his mind: “Is this guy serious?”
I didn’t answer. I let go of his cock and balls and went to my bag, pleased to see that I had left red marks on him from the pulling and nail-digging.
I rummaged in my bag and I brought out Chase’s new friend for life: a chastity device.
When Bryan had left, he had been wearing a chastity device. I’m sure he got it off somehow. Maybe he even took the key. But he had left behind several others. I so enjoyed my control over his orgasms, I bought him many devices to choose from. When I finally released him from one and allow him to have the orgasm he had coveted for weeks or months, I would always let him choose which device to wear next. I was a good Master like that.
I brought a classic for Chase: a CB-3000.
He knew what it was. He had fantasized many times of keeping women in chastity and fucking only their mouths, denying them all pleasure. And in researching this fantasy online, he had also seen the devices for men. Of course, at the time, he hadn’t given them a second thought. Certainly, he never in a million years would have imagined that he would wear one.
“Oh, shit, shit, shit, shit,” like a broken record in his mind.
I liked this refrain, so I continued to speak verbally, allowing him to continue his train of thought in his mind without interruption. “Now, Chase. Can’t you see that I’m letting you off easy? Normally rapists get locked up in prison. You’re not going anywhere! I’m doing you a favour by only locking up your dick.”
I made my way over and started slipping on the device.
“And can’t you see what a good deed I’m doing? I’m doing a public service! I’m protecting the women of the world.”
The device now in place, I finally picked up the lock.
“And, Chase,” I said, looking him in the eye, feigning compassion, “You should know I’m not a monster. I’m not like you. You used those women and never gave a second thought to their pleasure, to their own orgasms. In fact, you avoid their pleasure entirely and caused only pain. But as long as you’re a good boy, I’ll still let you cum. Maybe even once a month, if I’m feeling generous.”
Chase was flabbergasted. His face had gone white. This was hell, he was sure. His cock meant everything to him. And now “this faggot” was going to control it, rob him of his orgasms for weeks at a time. Worse yet, rob him of his erections altogether. He was going to have that tiny, flaccid penis 24/7 with no hope of his cock growing to its full size.
I beamed widely. “That’s right, Chase! You’ve got it. No orgasms! No erections! Just the tiny little nub you deserve.” I said, confirming his worst fears.
I snapped the lock in place and gave the device a hard tug to make sure it was on firmly. I probably tugged much harder than I had to, but no doubt you agree with me that Chase clearly deserves a lot of pain. I planned to be rough in everything I do to him.
The device firmly in place physically, I knew it was time to lock it there mentally.
I held up the key, dangling it in front of him on a thin, gold chain. I taunted him with it, waved it in front of his face, knowing he still couldn’t move a muscle. His hands stayed firmly planted on his head despite his wanting so much to reach out and grab the key.
I slipped the gold chain around my neck. I want him to see this key every time he looks at me.
I was still going strong. My powers had never been so great before. It felt like nothing at all to keep him in place, to enter his mind. And I knew it would feel just as easy to implant thoughts. Deep thoughts.
I gave my next trick a verbal introduction: “Chase, I know you want to take that off your cock. But I’m afraid you can’t do that. In fact, you have no idea how to.”
I drilled that thought into him. I sensed his surprise at his sudden realization that he couldn’t conceive of any way to take it off. As soon as he turned his mind toward the lock, toward the idea of removing the device, his thoughts scattered like dust in the wind. It would be completely and entirely impossible from now on for him to remove it on his own.
He knew the key had something to do with it. He eyed the key. I laughed out loud as I read his thoughts. No matter how hard he tried to concentrate on it, he could not conceive of how the key would work with the device, of how he could use it to free himself from chastity.
And then he came to the conclusion I wanted him to: as he looked at the key around my neck and realized that he had no idea how to use it, he also realized that I really did control his orgasms. I controlled his cock. I controlled the most important thing in his life. I had the key and I knew how to use it.
I was overjoyed.
Never had I felt such a rush of power with any of the other men I had controlled. It was clear why. As I have said, I am principled man. My other boys, they were subs. They had openly wanted control. Although I didn’t always respect all their boundaries and sometimes went too far, I had always required basic consent before I started to control them. But now, this was different. I controlled this man who did not want to be controlled, who had never once been controlled before. And I knew it was the right thing to do.
This was justice.
I relaxed my hold over him. He felt it immediately and knew he was in control of his body again.
The first thing he did was take his hands from his head down to the chastity device. But when his hands got there, they stopped short. He realized he didn’t know what to do with it. The thoughts of yanking at it, of trying to pull it off — they scattered away as quickly as they formed. He looked blankly at the prison around his cock for a moment, his thoughts lost.
Then rage. The realization once more that it was true: that he could not think of how to take it off.
“You sick motherfucker! I’m gonna fucking kill if you don’t take this fucking thing off my cock right this second!”