{"loaderData":{"4":{"story":{"id":"118bbbde-f11c-4b9b-98df-f41461dc344b","seriesId":null,"seriesName":null,"currentUserId":"00000000-0000-0000-0000-000000000000","added":"2018-09-01T03:17:50.291Z","title":"Frank's New Pet","slug":"franks-new-pet","shortId":"pZNnOlSI","authorNote":null,"disclaimer":null,"type":"Short","paidUrl":null,"synopsis":"When Julie left Frank, he was a nobody. But when a chance encounter brings them together years later, he decides to show her how much he's changed.","partCount":1,"parts":[{"partId":"00b79757-f88f-43fd-b207-9c0d893a28c2","title":null,"summary":"\n\nChapter 1I spotted her from across the bar, a tall woman in her late thirties with silky black hai","wordCount":10491,"readTime":53,"number":1,"state":"Published"}],"currentPart":1,"contentTitle":"Chapter 1","content":"\n\n

Chapter 1

I spotted her from across the bar, a tall woman in her late thirties with silky black hair that brushed her shoulders and the kind of quiet, sensual grace that only comes with age. She'd never be on the cover of any magazines, but she was easy enough on the eyes, especially with that top she was wearing. It was modest, but also slightly too small, leaving her ample and quite obviously braless chest straining against the fabric. Of course, even without the assistance I would've had no trouble picturing her tits. She was, after all, my ex-wife.

Julie and I had been married for nearly two decades, and it had been a happy time. Back then I’d been just another middle management drone. I mean, I grew up next to the kid who eventually became governor, so I’ve got a few friends in high places, but I myself was a nobody. Still, I treated her right, gave her everything she could want, and only hit her when she deserved it. And how did she repay all my years of kindness? With betrayal. During the divorce proceedings, the bitch even used her claims of “abuse” to try to take custody of our daughter away from me, and I had to call in a lot of favors to stop her.

Three years had passed since I'd last seen her, and she looked almost exactly the same. Time had been good to her, and I might have even pegged her as a twenty something if I hadn't known better. From the way she was slutting herself out, I figured she probably hadn't found a new man to ensnare yet. God help whichever poor sucker she latched onto next.

Julie may not have changed much, but I had. I ran into a whole mess of trouble a few months after she abandoned me. It’s a long story, but the short version is that I found out what it was like to own a slave, to have a pretty young thing who lived to serve me in any way.

And I liked it.

What began as a hobby gradually developed into something more, and before long I’d discovered my new calling. I still had the nine to five gig, but it was just a cover to hide my real job, the one that had made me wealthy and was just plain fun: training sex slaves.

Getting girls was easier than you'd think. Sometimes clients already had someone ready for me to train, but more often I’d find them on my own. I'd go out to some bar I'd never been in before, looking for any unattached, attractive girls. These could be a rare commodity, and there were plenty of nights I went home nothing but drunk, but eventually I'd hit pay dirt. A little hiding the shadows, a little chloroform, and soon I'd have fresh meat hogtied in my trunk.

Some guys in my line of business sell their catches as soon as they get them, but that's too risky for my taste. Unless you get lucky and nab a virgin, they don't sell for all that much, which means you gotta grab as many as you can. I try my best to be discreet: never hit the same place twice, never go anywhere less than fifty miles from home. It only takes one screw-up to get caught.

I opt for quality over quantity. Instead of just selling what I grab, I mold them into obedient, experienced sex slaves. It's a long process, sometimes lasting months, but the end product usually gets me at least 6 figures, and I enjoy every last moment of it.

I sold my last trainee a week ago, a pretty little Asian co-ed that had been in my care for 9 weeks. She’d gone out for a night on the town to celebrate finishing her exams, and never made it back home. Her prospective buyers wanted a sex-starved nympho, someone who could spend all day servicing their cocks and do it with a genuine smile on her face.

This wasn't the first time I’d gotten a request like that, and it was a pretty straightforward process. First, I conditioned her to respond positively to sex, made sure she had orgasms whenever I was with her, no matter what degrading acts we were doing. Conversely, her time without me, without sex, always involved discomfort and pain. And the whole time, I was wearing down her sense of humiliation, telling her over and over again how natural and right it was to make love, how there was no reason to ever feel ashamed of doing or enjoying it.

She was a smart girl, and knew exactly what I was doing to her. But knowing and being able to resist are two very different things. Eventually she grew to crave sexual stimulation and suffer without it, just like a crack addict jonesing for a fix. When the deal was concluded and I told the girl she'd be spending the rest of her life taking cock at least 12 hours a day, she actually thanked me.

So now I needed a new girl. And that's why I was here, in some dingy bar that had taken over two hours to get to, looking at my ex-wife.

I hadn't planned on meeting her. I hadn't even known she lived around here, and if I had I never would’ve come close. My first instinct was to just get the hell out. I didn't want to attract any attention, and a reunion with that cunt would be anything but quiet. I paid my tab and made as quick an exit as I could without looking suspicious.

I got back in the car, disappointed at another fruitless night. I hadn’t even had time to get properly drunk. But I couldn’t stay in there, and I hadn’t seen anyone with any real potential, not unless I wanted to try bringing my ex home. I laughed at the thought of that while I started up the car.

Then I stopped laughing.

The idea was ridiculous at first glance, but as I turned it around in my head, it grew more and more appealing. What if I really did abduct Julie? For safety reasons, I’ve usually focused on women with absolutely no connection to me, but that wasn't a deal breaker. I know some guys through the trade whose business is to make women disappear. They're expensive, enough so that hiring them to help with an abduction was guaranteed to be a net loss money wise, but they could pull it off.

And this wouldn’t be about money. This would be about revenge. About teaching that stuck up bitch to show me a little respect for once.

I laughed again, quieter this time, and turned off the ignition. Then I went outside to see if I could find her car.

Chapter 2

A few hours later I was dragging her unconscious body into the basement. The capture had gone off without a hitch. She was still using the same car she had three years ago, and I'd never gotten around to taking the spare key off my key chain. I waited in the backseat until she came out of the bar, and had the chloroform-soaked rag pressed against her mouth before she even knew something was wrong. I’d driven her car back here, then given David a call. We’d discussed what would be necessary for her disappearance, and he’d agreed to pick up my car for me later. Now that everything was settled, it was time to play.

The basement was a stark and unfriendly room, with bare concrete walls and a heavy steel door. For many years it had been my workshop, and there was still a table by one wall covered with tools. But for the last three years, it had been my training room, a place my girls stayed while they were first being broken in.

It was icy cold in there, deliberately so. Our sessions tended to be exhausting for everyone involved, and I appreciated the coolness after a few hours of sweaty exertion. And after a couple nights spent naked and shivering, some girls were willing to do just about anything for a warm blanket.

I started by handcuffing her wrists to her ankles in a frogtie. Then I took a long chain off the ground and tossed one end over a ceiling beam. I looped it through both cuffs and tied it off, securing the other end to a simple winch by the wall. I gently turned the crank, careful not to hurt her, until she was swaying face down a couple feet above the ground, hung up by her wrists and ankles. Her upper body sagged down, hair splayed across the floor, with her head not quite low enough to touch the ground. Finally, I fitted a ring gag into her mouth, and then stepped back to survey my handiwork. Perfect.

I had intended to just sit back and watch, letting her wake up on her own. But my cock was throbbing, and after only a couple of minutes I couldn't wait any longer. I just had to have her mouth.

You have to understand what a big deal this was. Julie has loved food ever since she was little. The only reason she didn't end up a total fatty is that she's also an extremely fussy eater. She refuses to eat anything that she considers beneath her sophisticated palate. I think half the reason she became a chef was because she thinks she’s too good for anyone else's cooking.

Naturally, this refined palate of hers had no place for cockflesh or semen, or even condoms. Back when we were first dating, she made it clear from the beginning that oral sex would be off-limits. And since I’d been a total sap back then, I’d abided. She'd made it up to me in other ways, but there had always been a part of me that longed to know what her mouth felt like.

Well, she didn't have a choice anymore, and she'd be lucky if the worst thing she tasted over the next few days was my cock. I grabbed a fistful of hair and raised her head up, then slowly slid my dick into her mouth and straight down her throat.

Her jaw was slack, but her mouth was as wet and warm as I could have hoped for. I wasn't rough with her, content to thrust leisurely in and out, savoring the contrast between the heat of her body and the cold basement air.

On the way home, I'd thought about what kind of slave I should turn her into. Pain sluts sold well, but they didn't last long. Normally I didn't check up on my slaves after I sold them, but I could see myself wanting to visit Julie every once in a while, maybe show up every year on our anniversary to remind her of what she gave up. It would be a shame to sell her to someone who'd use her up and kill her in a few short months or years.

I could turn her into a love slave like the Asian girl, but that didn't appeal to me either. Nymphos certainly lasted a long time, but they were also treated too well. I know some who've captured their buyer's heart and ended up being actual lovers. Even the ones who spent their days being gangbanged were fairly content with their fate, and the last thing I wanted was to make her happy.

Now, as I watched my bare cock moving in and out of her sweet mouth for the very first time, I realized how I wanted to train her. I'd teach her everything about sex, make her as skilled and knowledgeable a fucktoy as any girl I'd ever had down here. But instead of conditioning her to enjoy it, I'd do the opposite. I'd humiliate and degrade her, reinforce her natural dislike of what she was doing. She'd be an expert at taking cock while loathing every second of it. In the end, she'd hate herself even more than she’d hate me.

What I was doing finally began to cut through her drug-enhanced sleep. Gagging and choking, her face contorted in confusion, and then fear as she realized what was happening to her and tried to back away. She couldn't of course, but her struggles were doing a fantastic job of working my cock. I tightened my grip on her hair and smoothly buried my dick as deep down as it would go, then waited for her to calm down. I was delighted to see most of the terror in her expression replaced by anger when she looked up and recognized my face, her nostrils flaring as she fought to breathe. She'd always been a fiery one, and I was looking forward to breaking that attitude of hers down.

“Welcome home, Julie,” I told her in a cordial tone, smiling. “You know, I never knew how perfect your throat is for fucking. Probably because you always hated giving head so much. That was a shame really; you're a natural at it. With enough training, I bet I could make you the finest cocksucker in the state. An ambitious goal, I know, but I’m willing to put in the hours.”

I resumed humping her face as I spoke, faster than before but still gentle. I didn't want her getting too distracted while we talked. A stream of noises that I took for muffled swearing emanated from her stretched mouth. If looks could kill, I would've keeled over right then and there. Instead, I stroked her hair with my free hand.

“Now now, I know we have a lot to talk about, but there's no hurry. We have all the time in the world to get reacquainted with each other. Things are going to be different this time, Jules. Better. We're no longer husband and wife anymore. That was your doing. So instead we're going to be master and slave for a while. There are a number of rules you're going to have to follow here, but I don't want to overwhelm you. We'll just cover them as they come up. The important thing for you to remember is that I'm not a sadist.” That was a lie. “As long as you behave properly and follow the rules to the best of your ability, there's no reason this has to be an unpleasant experience for you.” Another lie. “While you're here, the only thing you need to concern yourself with is making me happy. And even that's easy: you just have to do whatever I tell you.

So, let's begin. The first rule: whenever I'm using your mouth, and I expect this will be often because it really is a pleasant little fuckhole, you are to look directly into my eyes. Don't look away until I'm finished, understand?”

I had to laugh as she immediately scrunched her eyes closed in a minor act of defiance. That was my Julie.

“You bring up a good question: what happens if you don't follow the rules? In that case, I'll just have to persuade you to behave.”

I thrust my entire cock down her throat again, and with one hand still holding on to her hair, I used my other to pinch her nostrils shut. The chain rattled and her whole body convulsed as she struggled. I had to fight the urge to cum, filling my head with multiplication tables and the latest stock activity. As she settled down, on the verge of passing out, I removed my hand and let her draw a few short, ragged breaths, then pinched her nostrils shut again.

After several rounds of this, she still insisted on keeping her eyes closed. I lowered my head and whispered into her ear as she shuddered for breath. “Do you like suffocating that much, Julie? You know, I can keep this up for hours. Eventually there's going to be some brain damage. That doesn't bother me much; sex slaves don't get purchased for their intelligence. But you might not be so happy about it.”

I pinched her nose again, and this time I didn't stop when she was about to pass out. I waited a few seconds to make sure she was out, and then let go. Her eyes blearily opened about a minute later, and then quickly snapped shut again when she remembered where she was. I just waited for her to catch her breath, and then started over. Halfway through her second journey into unconsciousness, frustrated tears begin to spill out.

It took about ten more minutes, but she finally gave in and opened her eyes to stare at me, the anger in them now tinged with desperation. I kept it up several more times, not stopping until she'd learned to keep her eyes on me the whole time, even as her eyelids drooped from oxygen deprivation. Satisfied, I took my hand away and let her breathe, now pumping in and out of her with gusto, eager to finish.

“See, it's a pretty easy rule, isn't it? And as a reward, it's time for your first meal!”

The ensuing orgasm felt great, but it couldn't compare to seeing the look of disgust etched across her face as she felt my cum spurting inside of her. My first few shots went straight down her throat, but I pulled back to let the rest of it plaster the inside of her mouth. Semen would be a staple part of her diet while she was here, and I didn't want to her miss out on the taste. I finished by pulling her tongue out of the ring gag and shaking the last few drops of cum onto it. When I let go of her hair, her head dropped down and she immediately retched, cum and stale beer pouring out onto the floor. I sighed.

“That's my fault, really. I should have told you beforehand that another one of my rules is to swallow whatever I give you to eat or drink. I mean, I can't have you going around leaving messes like this all the time. It's downright unsanitary.

“But don't worry,” I told her cheerfully. “It looks like it all landed right below you. If I just lower you a few inches...” I gave the winch a quick turn. “There! Now you can just lick that up, and we'll be all set. No harm, no foul.”

Julie raised her head and glared at me, full of revulsion and anger. Gagged or not, she was plainly telling me to go fuck myself. I walked behind her, grabbing a small pair of pliers from the worktable.

“I don't think you've fully grasped things, dear. You're not my wife anymore, remember? You decided to throw that privilege away. So now, you're my slave, and your sole purpose in life to please me. That means any part of you that I don't have a use for is... expendable. For example, your fingernails.”

I took the pliers and dug the bottom jaws between the skin and nail of her right thumb, then began to twist. I took my time, peeling off her thumbnail by slow degrees. It took a good thirty seconds for it to finally pop off, and Julie spent all of it shrieking in agony. I walked back to her front, and waved the bloody item in front of her face. As she continued to scream, I casually tossed the nail into her mouth, and then covered it with my hand before she could spit it out. I leaned close and spoke quietly, no longer cheerful or smiling.

“There are all kinds of things you brought with you that I don't need. Arms, legs, eyes, etc. As far as we're concerned here, they're luxury items. If you behave yourself, I'm willing to let you keep them, but if you're going to be trouble, then I may as well use them to teach you manners. Do you understand?”

She hesitated and I leaned in closer.

“Let me tell you about a girl I once met. She wasn't one of mine, but she was at a brothel I was selling another slave to. I don't know her name; no one at the brothel knew. Everyone there just called her the Fuck Box.

“She'd pissed off one of her previous owners. From what I heard, she got him to fall in love and make her his wife instead of his slave, then repaid his generosity by trying to run away on their wedding night. So he decided she needed to be taught a permanent lesson in obedience.

“First, he pulled out her teeth, one by one, so that she couldn't bite off her tongue and kill herself. Then he sewed her eyelids shut and plugged up her ears and nose, so that the only senses she had were taste and feel. Then he built a small wooden box that was only just large enough for her to fit, and once she was in he had it sealed up tight.

“The box had three holes, and I'm sure you can guess what they were for. He’d even used industrial glue to seal her lips open around the mouth hole. That plus a pair of rungs on the side to hold on to turned her into the Fuck Box. A pretty girl became nothing more than a faceless box for people to stick their dick in.

“She was the most popular thing at that brothel. She wasn't nearly as good as a real girl, of course, but much cheaper. I heard a lot of johns liked to use her to shoot their first wad of the night, so they'd be able to last longer with one of the other girls. I tried her out myself when I found out about her, had all three holes. It was certainly an odd experience, but the best three dollars I ever spent. She's very low maintenance too. They just have to clean up the mess whenever she shits or pisses, and make sure the johns feed her at least two cups of semen a day.

“And that's her life from now on. The Fuck Box had been there for years when I first met her, and she'll be there for years still. She'll probably outlive the both of us.

“I doubt I'd ever go so far with you, but it's always an option. A disobedient slave is a worthless slave. I don't need you to like what you do here. In fact, I'm much happier when I know you hate it. But you will obey me. Is that clear?”

Julie slowly nodded, and I smiled again, warmth returning to my voice.

“That's wonderful, sweetheart. So why don't you show me how well you learned that new rule?”

She stared at me pleadingly, searching for some hint of mercy. But the love I'd once felt for her was long gone, and the look I gave her was pitiless. She shuddered and swallowed the fingernail. I took my hand away and patted her head affectionately.

“Good girl. Now finish the rest of your meal.”

Her head lowered, and her tongue poked tentatively from the gag. Tears streamed down her face to mix with the cum and beer on the floor, and I sat down to watch her lick the whole combination up, my cock already stiffening again.

Chapter 3

After a while, there was nothing left of the mess but a slick spot on the floor. I didn't say anything, so Julie just kept on licking, not wanting to risk further punishment. I let her continue for a while, enjoying the view, and then stood up. She flinched as I approached, but all I did was remove the ring gag from her mouth.

“Now that you've had some time to adjust, I don't think we need that anymore, do we?”

Julie shook her head and tried to speak. Her throat was hoarse from its earlier use, and it was obvious that just using it was causing her further pain. I liked that.

“Please, Frank...” she made out. “I know... you don't want to do this... you're just confused... and hurt... I won't tell anyone about this, I... I swear... just let me go, please... please... “

I gently shushed her and stroked her hair again, adopting an air of concern.

“You're right honey, what I did to you was wrong. I let my libido get the best of me. Rape is a terrible thing, and I should never have done it. Tell me, can you ever forgive me?”

She looked at me warily, hopeful but not ready to believe I'd so easily had a change of heart.

“...Y-Yes, I forgive you.”

“Excellent! I promise that from now on, I will never have sex with you unless you explicitly agree to it. If you don't want to, I will respect your wishes. Is this alright with you?”
“...Yes. That’s… that’s good, Frank.”

“Then let's try it out. I'd really like to fuck your ass now. May I?”

A look of horror appeared on her face, and a spark of defiance returned to her eyes. Seventeen years of marriage, and she'd never let me try that even once. The mere suggestion of it years ago had landed me in the doghouse for a week, and brought several comments about how only the trashiest of whores did anal. Needless to say, I was greatly looking forward to opening her shitter up for business.

“No!” she practically screamed, and then flinched, waiting for my reaction.

I gave her an easy smile. “OK, I won't. See, that was simple, huh?”

I went over to the worktable and looked over its contents, humming to myself. After a few moments, I chose a small white box containing dozens of tiny pins. I walked back to Julie and jingled the box in front of her face, then took one of the pins out and showed it to her. She stared at it with wide eyes, transfixed, as I brought it down to her chest, right next to her left nipple. Without a word, I slowly but firmly pushed it in. As she screamed, I took another one out and stuck it in the same spot on her right tit.

“Aaaggh! Stop!!! You said I could -aggggh!- refuse!”

“I did, and you can” I answered, continuing to place pins. “You don't have to have sex with me unless you really want to. But you are here for my pleasure, so if you won't sleep with me, I just have to find other ways to entertain myself. Like this.”

Her pleading tone vanished. “God damn you! Aagh! You're not going to get away with this! The police will-!”

“The police will do exactly two things: jack and shit. I've already arranged everything with some friends of mine while you were having your nap. In a couple days, your restaurant will receive a letter detailing your resignation for personal reasons. Within a week, someone meeting your description and carrying your identification will cash out all your bank accounts and book a trip to somewhere nice, maybe Maui. As far as the rest of the world will be concerned, you'll be off to live the good life.”

“Someone will find out! Someone will notice!”

“Believe it or not, dear, you're not the first woman to end up down here. They all expected someone to show up and save the day too. Can you guess how well that worked out for them?”

She changed gears. “Please Frank, not my -aaagh- ass! That's disgusting!”

“I know. That's why I'm going to love hearing you beg me for it.”

“Can't you just...” She swallowed. “Can't you just have my pussy? Oww! I-I'll make it good for you. You know I can make it good!”

“You sure can, and I'll be happy to let you do that later. But that's not the hole I'm after right now.”

“I... I could blow you again! You liked that before, remember, and this time I'll -aagh- I'll swallow your cum, Frank, I promise! Ow! Ow! Goddammit! Just please stop hurting me, please please please please aaaaaaaaaaaaaagh………. fine...”

Her voice was a defeated mumble. ”Fine, you can... you can have sex with me. With my... my ass. Just get it -ahh- over with!”

I pretended to consider her words for a moment, and then shrugged and continued sticking pins in. She wasn't broken yet, just picking her battles, but forcing her to ask for pain was an important step. Time to push her further.

“Nah, it doesn't sound like you really want me to fuck you,” I told her, and fished in the box for some more pins. “I told you, I'm not going to do it unless you really want it.”

Her face filled with despair as she realized what I was asking her to do. She kept quiet for a long moment, but eventually the pain of the pins outweighed the humiliation. “I-I do! Aaaggh! I want to you to fuck me! Please -eeh- fuck me!”

“In the ass?”

“Yes! My -hih-- ass! Please fuck my ass!”

“Prove it. Tell me exactly how you want it.”

“I-I-I-”

She was sobbing by now, large shimmering tears flowing down her face. Turning her tits into pincushions was nothing compared to the self-degradation. The pins were just pain, but this was leaving wounds in her psyche that would only rot and fester. When I was done with her, Julie would never again be the confident, self-assured woman who'd scorned me. She wouldn't be a slave because of any chains or handcuffs, she'd be a slave because she'd believe that's all she could be.

“Do you want me to rip your ass open? Do you want me to ride you like a bitch in heat?”

“Y-Yes...”

“Then say it.”

“I-I arggh! I want to you rip my ass open! I want you -gah- to ride me like a bitch in heat!”

“Is that so? Does that mean you're an ass slut?”

“Yes...I'm an... ass slut.”

“You love getting your ass reamed out?”

“I... love –eeh- getting my ass reamed out...”

“Really? Even though you’ve never had anal sex before, you want it that badly?”

“Y-Yes!”

“Oh, I think I get it. You must have been fantasizing about this for years, right? Secretly hoping that someone would come along and shove a big, fat cock up your shitter. This is really a dream come true for you, isn’t it?”

“Oh god… yes, it’s a dream come true. Oww!”

There was now a jagged circle around both nipples. I began readjusting the pins, wiggling them around, pulling some out and then jabbing them back in, trying to make the circles look better.

“Well, it does sound like you want it... but no, I shouldn't. See, after a session of good, hard buttfucking, my cock is usually a mess of blood, shit, and cum. You know, the usual. So I like to have my women suck me off afterward, give my cock a solid cleaning. But let's face it, no one ever really wants to do something like that. Hell, you never even wanted to give me blowjobs when my cock was clean. You may be a horny ass slut and a natural cocksucker, but you're not some filthy, worthless, shit-eating whore, right? So I'd better just keep playing with these pins. Or maybe dig out the whip...”

Julie looked like she was about to throw up, but she swallowed and steeled herself. “No! I... I'll do it!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, damn you! Yes!”

I took my hands away from the pins.

“Tell me again everything you want. And then tell me why.”

She forced out the words, a look of absolute misery on her face. “I-I want you to rip my ass open and ride me like a bitch in heat... and then I want to suck your cock, and clean up the shit, because... because I'm a filthy, worthless, shit-eating whore!”

“Well, if you insist... just let me finish up here, and I'll give you everything you asked for.”

I started shifting the pins around again. She let a long, despairing moan.

“But-but you said...”

“I said I'd fuck you if you really wanted it. I never said I'd do it immediately. Besides, these will make things even more fun.”

She went red with anger. “You fucking sadist! Haven’t I done enough already?!”

I didn’t say anything, just gave her a steady, cold look. The anger flowed out of her, and fear took its place. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean it… please fuck my ass soon…”

Another important lesson learned: I decide when the pain starts, and when the pain ends. The most she can ever hope for is to keep me in a good mood. Unfortunately for her, that's when I like to do my worst. And at the moment, I was feeling downright chipper.

When I thought her decorations looked good enough, I took two final pins, positioned them right at the center of each nipple, and pushed them in. Then I gave all the pins a little push to make sure they were firmly embedded. Julie continued to wail.

Satisfied that they wouldn't be coming out anytime soon, I released the chain that was keeping her dangling from the ceiling, and she dropped to the floor. The impact slammed the pins deeper into her, and she let out a choking scream. Her wrists were still cuffed to her ankles, and I lifted her ass up, leaving her face and tits pressed firmly against the ground. She screamed again as her own body weight put pressure on the pins and drove them even deeper.

I pulled her cheeks apart and looked at the little rosebud that winked open between them. It was small and pink, and I took a moment to admire it. After all, it would never be the same again. I pressed a finger against it, and it was tight enough that I needed to take a few seconds to work it in, an action rewarded with a quiet, miserable groan from my ex-wife. I played with her asshole for a while, adding a second and then a third finger in, stretching her hole until I felt it was ready to take my cock. This took longer than I expected, probably because I couldn't resist taking frequent breaks to make her lick my fingers clean. The disgusted look on her face each time was wonderful, and I enjoyed asking her repeatedly if she was really sure she enjoyed eating her own shit, forcing her to give me a tired mockery of a smile and assure me that she found it delicious.

“That's amazing,” I told her at one point. “Most people hate the taste of shit. But I guess ass sluts like you just can't get enough of it. I'll have to make it a regular part of your diet from now on.” Julie gagged when she heard that one.

As I positioned my cock, she begged me to use lubrication. It had been a while since the fellatio, and my cock was indeed dry. I could have forced it in anyway, but that would've been painful for me too, and there's no reason I should have to suffer. So I graciously allowed her to suck my cock again, after getting her to “admit” that she was a cum guzzling whore who just couldn’t wait to get another taste of me. My cock sank back into her mouth, while I held her head up by the hair with one hand and tweaked her tit pins with the other. It was a slight risk not to put the ring gag back in, but I was confident that she was aware enough of her situation now to realize that trying to bite me would only bring more pain.

I didn't have to do any of the work this time; she was an active participant, eagerly running her tongue up and down my shaft, teasing my head, even attempting to deep throat me a few times, though her gag reflex still made her sputter and choke. She even remembered to keep her eyes on me the whole while. I recognized that she was trying to get out of the impending anal assault, hoping that I would cum in her mouth and leave her other holes alone. I played along, thrusting my hips back and forth with increasing speed while doing my best to relax. After a few minutes I withdrew, leaving only the head between her lips. One hand still holding her hair, I stroked her chin with the other.

“Are you ready for this?”

She nodded.

“You're going to swallow this time?”

Another nod. She was softly suckling my cock head, expecting it to go off at any moment.

“Good girl. Here goes!”

And then I began to piss.

It took her a second to realize it wasn't cum filling her mouth. She squealed and tried to pull her head back, but my grip on her chin didn't let her. I let the flow stop, giving her the chance to swallow. She stared at me imploringly, her eyes wide with shock at this new humiliation, her mouth full of piss, and I gave her a friendly wink. There was a pause as fresh tears started to leak from the corners of her eyes, and then she swallowed. I resumed pissing, and she kept swallowing, sobbing quietly.

Finished, I let go of her head and moved back to her ass, giving it a playful slap.

“Now that we've gotten that little diversion out of the way, time for a nice, long ass fuck!”

She whimpered.

Even with the lubrication of her saliva, it wasn't easy going. I settled the head of my cock on her anal ring, still slightly open from my earlier finger work, and began to push. It resisted, but I could feel it minutely giving way, the creases of her rosebud widening bit by bit. If I'd felt like it, I could have simply rammed my cock into her, torn through her defenses, and ripped her open in a matter of seconds. But I was in no hurry, content to enjoy the inevitable. Besides, I didn't want to ruin her asshole. I expected to be a frequent visitor in it, and any serious permanent damage would only diminish the pleasure it could give me in the long run.

Julie howled as my head finally slipped in, her ring contracting snugly behind it. There was a slight spattering of blood, places where her rosebud had torn a little. I daubed it with one finger and brought it to my mouth, enjoying the coppery taste. Her chute felt like a hot fist around my cock, and it took some real willpower to keep from going in deeper. Instead, I pulled out completely, earning a new shriek from her as her ring was forced to expand again.

“Aww, don't worry darling,” I told her, my voice dripping with false sweetness. “My cock's coming back. You'll get the whole thing soon enough, all the meat your little asshole could want. I just need to train it a little first. See, most people, normal people, only use their asses for excretion. But not a cumlicking, shit loving, backdoor slut like you. No, for you, this is a fuckhole, and its job is to milk cocks. All your life it’s been a one-way road, but from now on it's going to be getting regular intake, and it needs to adjust. It won't be long before cocks can just glide in and out of here, no fuss, no waiting. Won't that be great?”

Julie just continued to sob, apparently assuming my question was rhetorical. I pinched her ass to get her attention, hard to enough to raise a welt.

“I said, won't that be great?”

“....Yes.... th... thank you...”

“Don't mention it.”

I waited until her asshole had closed back up. It was redder and slightly swollen, with a few faint bloody smears, but otherwise looked like it had when I started. I pressed my cock to it, and began opening it up a second time. This elicited another moan from my ex-wife.

“You know,” I remarked, “considering how you begged me to do this, you don't seem properly grateful over the attention I'm giving to your ass. That's not very polite, is it?”

Julie flinched. “No... I'm sorry...”

“That's right. You should be really thanking me for this.” I hardened my tone and repeated myself. “You should really be thanking me for this.”

“Th-thank you for...” She hesitated, and I supplied the rest.

“For breaking in your ass, right?”

“Thank you... for breaking in my ass...” she said, voice barely above a whisper.

I continued playing with her ass for well over an hour, stretching her ring enough to let me in, and then pulling out it to let it recover. Each time it was a little bit easier, her ring more pliant than before. And each time Julie repeated her line like a good fucktoy-in-training.

“Thank you for breaking in my ass.”

Twice I returned to her mouth for a fresh spit shine. She no longer entertained any hopes of dissuading me from taking her ass, and just dully sucked on me. I missed her earlier enthusiasm, but there would be plenty of time to work on that later.

Eventually I was satisfied. It was time to fully explore her last unknown hole. She was still very tight, but the stiffness had been replaced with elasticity, a soft, yielding pressure. It was only temporary at the moment, but if I did this regularly (and I planned to), it would become permanent. Her asshole would never be so weakened that she would need diapers, but no one would ever have trouble getting in.

“Although,” I mused, thinking aloud, “diapers might not be such a bad idea. You wouldn't have to worry about using the bathroom any more. And at the end of the day I'd take them off and hey, there's your dinner.”

Aside from her repeated words of thanks, Julie hadn't made much noise for a while. She wasn't reacting to my rear entries anymore, the pain gone or at least diminished. The only other sounds she made were the occasional grunt every time my movements pushed the pins in her chest against the floor. Her face was pressed to the ground, wet from the tears that had pooled there, and her eyes were half-closed and staring at the wall. The only real movement came from her hands, still handcuffed to her ankles. They twitched every few seconds, as if she was trying uselessly to push me away or push herself up. She definitely hadn't realized prep time was over, and I saw no reason to warn her. I simply eased my cock in one more time, made sure I had a firm grip on her hips, and lunged.

“Thank you foraaaaaaagh!”

Her eyes bulged and her head jerked up as I drove several inches into her virgin shitter. She screamed and flailed her body around trying to get away, but my cock was firmly entrenched. God, I loved being in her ass. It wasn't the tightest I'd ever tasted, and she certainly wasn't using it the way she'd be trained to, but that didn't matter. Just the idea of it, of my bitch of an ex-wife huddled in submission, taking my cock in a way she'd never allowed, filled me with a greater pleasure than any mere physical sensation could provide.

My leisurely pace gone, I rabbit fucked her bleeding, clenching rectum, forcing myself in further with each push. Julie kept trying to speak, probably to beg me to stop, but she was exhausted and her throat was worn out from all the heavy use it had already received today, so all she could manage was little panting gasps in time to my thrusts. I didn't let up until I was completely inside her, balls resting against her cunt. I stopped there, and took a long moment to enjoy the sensations of her body, the way her tight muscles rippled in agony and unintentionally massaged my cock.

“Okay, Julie, it's your turn.”

She turned her head to look at me uncomprehendingly, still gasping and trying to speak. Her eyes were wide and disbelieving, as if she'd never imagined it was possible to be in so much pain. She still had a lot to learn.
“P...pl...ease...ta...take it...out...” she managed.

I pinched her ass again, leaving another red welt next to the first.

“Don't be silly, dear. I'm not leaving until I cum. But I've done all the work getting this far, and I think it's only fair you do some now.”

She still didn't seem to understand what I was saying. I suppose having a cock buried in her intestines was a bit of a mental distraction, so when I spoke again, I punctuated each word with a hard slap on the ass to help keep her focused.

“You. Are. An. Ass. Slut. Your. Asshole's. Job. Is. To. Milk. Cocks. Get. Started.”

I helpfully showed her what I meant by putting a hand on her back and pushing her pin-studded tits against the floor. She screamed, her whole body shaking, and her asshole constricted around me in a very satisfying way. I repeated the action several times.

“Now I can keep doing this, or you can start doing it on your own. Personally, I think my way is more fun, so you might want to see about changing my mind.”

I felt a light, hesitant squeeze as she clenched her ass, and then a stronger one a few seconds later.

“That's right, Julie,” I cooed. “Just like that. I knew you were going to love taking it up the ass. Keep up a good rhythm. Don't worry about getting it perfect, you'll have plenty of chances to practice. Just imagine if we'd done this sooner, back when we were still married. I bet getting a hard dick up your ass every night would have helped you learn your place. And maybe you wouldn't have started spouting all that bullshit about leaving.

“But you know, I don't have any regrets. You were a good wife, but you're going to be an even better slave. I was planning to sell you, but you've managed to change my mind. You're such a great fuck that I think I'd rather keep you around. It'll be my Christmas present to myself. Getting woken up with a blowjob every morning, having a toilet that comes to me whenever I shout… oh yes, we're going to have a nice life together.”

She was crying again, and watching that felt even better than the pulsing muscles in her ass. She was clumsy, but I enjoyed letting her try. For the next thirty minutes she serviced my cock with her asshole while I continued my litany. I complimented her on being such a hardworking slut, thanked her every time her efforts were particularly pleasurable, assured her that she'd get to do this as often as she wanted from now on, speculated about how each of her various friends would react if they knew how much she loved getting her ass stuffed, and so on. She cried harder with each bit of verbal abuse, but continued to work hard pleasing me.

Finally, I could wait no longer. I pulled nearly all the way out, and gave her a hard slap on the ass. “Giddyup girl,” I told her. “Just like you wanted, it's time to ride.” Then I rammed my cock back up her asshole and started to fuck her in earnest.

Blood began to trickle from Julie's hole as my cock sawed in and out of her. Her rosebud was a wide, red “O” now, stretched tight around me. She was screaming at me to stop, to slow down, to have mercy. Her body bucked and squirmed, trying to throw me off, but my left hand had a tight hold on her black tresses and I just moved with her, enjoying the way her hips rolled and shook beneath me. I yanked her head back as far I could, forcing her back to arch and pulling her ass further onto my cock. Meanwhile my right hand was paddling her backside, leaving bright red hand prints all over her ass and thighs.

Julie's struggles faded as her burst of adrenaline ran out. I let her head drop back to the floor and grabbed her tits instead, using them as handles to get myself even deeper with each thrust. I squeezed her breasts and felt tiny drops of blood welling up from a dozen different places as the pins scraped her chest. But even this new torture didn't garner much of a reaction from her. My new pet was exhausted, and it was time to finish up. I leaned down and whispered in her ear.

“Do you want this to be over, honey?”

She gave a weak nod.

“Then beg for it. Tell me how much you want my cum.”

“I... I want it...” she gasped immediately, desperate to be done with this torment. “Give me... my ass... needs your cum...”

She kept it up for several minutes, trying to convince me that my semen belonged deep in her bowels. The pleading, wretched tone in her voice finally pushed me over the edge, and I let out a contented sigh as my cock sprayed her insides with hot cum. I leaned over her, still gently pumping her ass, and whispered again.

“Feel that? Feel my cum filling you up? You did that, darling, with your tongue, your asshole, your pain, your screams. You earned it. That's what this is all about, honey. Everything you do for the rest of your life will be for this. All the hard work, all the suffering, all the training, all to please your master until he gifts you with his cum. Pouring it down your throat, dumping it in your womb, painting your tits, packing your bowels, it makes no difference. There's no greater praise a bitch can receive. Enjoy it. Savor it. This is what you're for.”

After having Julie squeeze down my cock a few more times, to make sure she'd wrung as much cum out of it as she could, I pulled out of her with an audible pop. Her anal ring was now bright red and puffy, and it continued to gape open. It would recover, but not for a little while. Muddy liquid was oozing out of the battered hole, and I quickly went over to the worktable and returned with an empty Tupperware container to catch it. I scraped her ass out with my fingers to get more, until her hole ran dry. I closed up the Tupperware and set it aside. Now I didn't have to worry about what to give her for breakfast tomorrow. I wiped my fingers clean in her hair and then inspected my cock.

“Yep, just like I predicted. It’s time for a yummy snack, sweetheart. I know how much you love gourmet food, so I’ve prepared you a little something of my own. Dick tartar, garnished with fresh blood and basted generously in two of your favorites: shit and cum.”

I lifted Julie's head up and wagged my filth-encrusted cock in her face. She'd been nearly comatose for the last few minutes, but as the smell of it hit her she blanched, and awareness returned to her expression. Her eyes closed tightly for a moment in quiet humiliation, and then she resignedly opened her mouth to take my cock in. That was a good sign, but I wasn't quite done pushing her yet, so I stopped her.

“Now now, dear,” I admonished. “I know you're eager for a taste, but cock cleaning is going to be a very important job of yours from now on, and we need to make sure you learn to do it properly. You want to become an expert at eating your own feces off my cock, right?”

Julie nodded wearily. “...Yes... master...”

She’d already taken to calling me master without even being prompted. I knew then and there that I’d made the right choice to keep her. “Good girl. So instead of sucking my cock, I think it would be best if you started by just licking it clean. That way I can get a better view of the action and stop you from developing any bad habits. Give it a try.”

Her tongue stuck out, and hesitantly swabbed over one of the cleaner areas of my shaft.

“That's it. Make sure you swallow after each lick. You'll have a hard time cleaning anything if your tongue's filthy too, right? And it gives you time to savor the taste. Let's move over to this patch. See that glob caked on there? You need to go after stuff like those first, before it has the chance to fall off on its own. That's right, lick it up. See how there's a little smear left behind? You can't just clear off the obvious messes, you need to make sure there's not a speck of filth left. There you go, press your tongue on it. A little harder, it's really worked in. Don't forget to swallow each time. You don't want to rush this. Keep going, I still see a few marks there. Not bad, not bad at all. Your mouth has serious potential. I know a site that specializes in human toilets, and I bet we could make some good money selling a few videos. In fact, we could make a whole collection for you, catering to every extreme fetish we can find. Piss drinking, anal fisting, branding, electricity. There are all kinds of crazy shit no normal person would ever do, but I'm sure a trashy whore like you will love every minute of it. Ah, now that spot’s looking perfect. You can't even tell it was in your own ass a few minutes ago, can you? No stopping yet, though, still plenty more spots to clean up.”

Under my micro-management, Julie carefully lapped at my cock, bathing it until it was wet and shiny and hard, ready to violate her again.

Epilogue – One Year Later

I awoke to the soothing sensation of a soft, warm tongue. I lifted the covers and looked into the eyes of my pet. They were tired and bloodshot, which was only to be expected; she'd been at this the whole night. There was fear in there, too, and she flinched when I reached a hand out to her.

Her fear was for good reason. I didn't have her service me all night like this just because it made going to sleep and waking up much more pleasurable. I did it because it often led to some really amazing dreams. In my sleep I regularly indulged in sexual escapades that, well, you could only dream about.

It didn't always work, of course, and on those days Julie began the morning with twenty or thirty sound lashes from my belt. I know it's not her fault, but it keeps her motivated. And besides, it's fun.

My pet relaxed as I merely tousled her hair affectionately. Last night had been good enough. She looked at me with sickly gratitude and smoothly swallowed the entire length of my shaft, working harder now that I was awake.

It only took a few minutes for the milking of her tight throat and the sight of her face buried in my pubic hair to get me off. She swallowed my load without hesitation, and methodically licked my cock clean of any residue sperm, then began gently drying it with her own hair, grown long over the last year for just this purpose. Once she'd finished, she crawled out of bed.

It was a cold January morning, and the closest thing Julie had on for clothing was the leather collar around her neck, so I'm sure she must have been freezing, especially on the hardwood floor of my bedroom, but she meekly waited on all fours.

With a lazy yawn, I rose out of bed and unlocked her leash from the bed post. Without prompting she began to pad down the hall, and I trailed behind her. The only sound she made as she crawled was the jingling of her nipple rings. I hadn't allowed her any human speech for months now. I'd considered having surgery done on her vocal chords to make this permanent, and threatened so on several occasions, but ultimately I liked the fact that her non-communication was completely voluntary. The only thing keeping her from making anything other than animal noises was her obedience.

In the kitchen, I locked her leash to a ring above one of the kitchen cabinets. It had been installed there for just that purpose, and left her enough leeway to make her way to anywhere in the room. I left her in there to prepare breakfast and headed to the bathroom.

By the time I’d finished my shower, delicious smells had reached me from the kitchen. The only thing Julie had eaten in about the last twelve hours had been that load of cum I’d just fed her, so she had to be starving by now, but I knew she wouldn't dare eat any of the food she was cooking. I'd caught her at it once, months ago, and punished her by starving her for over a week. She still hasn't regained all the weight she lost from it, and won't dare to even nibble on the garbage scraps now.

Breakfast tasted as good as it had smelled. There are definite perks to having a pet that used to be a gourmet chef. Said chef spent the meal kneeling under the table, slurping on my cock. The morning blowjob had been too recent for her attentions to get me hard, but she went at it anyway.

After the meal, I unlocked Julie's leash and led her back towards the bedroom. As she crawled in front of me, I noticed she'd succeeded in giving me an erection after all, and gave her leash a light tug. My pet immediately pressed her face and tits against the carpet and raised her ass in the air as high as she could. Her hands came around to spread open her cheeks and she wiggled seductively, inviting me to use whichever hole I wished.

Her pussy was dry, but constant use over the last year had loosened it up, and I easily penetrated her. My ex-wife rocked her hips and made coos of delight, pretending that she loved taking my cock. Not that she dared to act any other way.

Just a month ago, she'd made the mistake of glaring at me after I'd slapped her. It was only for a moment, and quickly replaced by her usual look of fearful servitude, but it was enough. As punishment, she'd spent several days with her eyelids sewn shut, terrified that I was going to leave her like that forever. Since then, I’ve ordered her to look happy at all times, no matter what I'm doing to her. She still slips up from time to time and lets the fear show, but she’s getting there.

Her well-trained pussy didn’t take long to earn my seed. As soon as I pulled out, she turned around and took my cock back into the warm washbasin of her mouth. After it had been cleaned and dried, and she'd licked a few stray drops of cum off the floor, we continued to the bedroom.

She crawled into the metal cage at the foot of the bed. This was where she slept during the day now, while I was at work. It wasn't large enough for her to stretch out or tall enough to stand, but there was enough room for a dog bed she could curl up into, food and water bowls, and a bucket to do her business in.

I took the bowls and went back into the kitchen to fix her dinner. I filled the food bowl with dry dog food and relieved myself in her water bowl. I started to head back, and then reconsidered. She had been a good girl this morning. I went to the garbage and fished out the napkin I'd used for breakfast. It was stained with bacon grease and had bits of egg and toast on it, along with some streaks where I'd used it to blow my nose. It would do just nicely.

My pet gave a happy little squeal when she saw the napkin draped over her food bowl. She daintily picked it up with her teeth and set it aside for later, then eagerly went at her meal. I continued getting ready for work as she gobbled up the dog food and lapped up my piss. The combination of dry food and salty urine would make her dreadfully thirsty, but that was alright; it just gave her a reason to look forward to sucking my cock again when I got home. After licking both bowls clean, she mouthed the dirty napkin and began to suck on it with a look of contentment, savoring the faint taste of real food.

Julie got into her bed and started finding a comfortable position to sleep, still sucking on the napkin. I made sure she'd locked her cage and reached a hand in to fondly stroke her side. My pet was still learning, but she'd become a fine animal over the last year, genuinely eager to please. She hated everything I did to her, but by now she understood that she deserved all of it, and that's what mattered.

“I have a surprise for you,” I told her, and she twitched uncertainly. Surprises were rarely pleasant for her. But she turned to grin at me anyway, purring as I continued to pet her. “Do you remember what tomorrow is?”

Her brow creased in thought, a look of confusion on her face. Small wonder. I doubt she even knew what month it was. “It's our daughter's birthday.”

Julie stiffened, looking at up at me with wide eyes, and I thought for a moment that she was about to break the rules and speak. But she recovered herself, and just kept staring intensely at me. The two girls hadn't seen each other since the divorce, and I'd deliberately told my pet nothing about her in the last year. Even back when she was still allowed to talk, the mere mention of her daughter’s name had been enough to earn her a beating.

I laughed. “What's wrong, pet? You think I'm going to abuse our little girl on her birthday? Tie her up and teach her how to suck daddy's cock as good as mommy does?”

Julie went very still for a moment, and then gave a hesitant nod.

“Well, relax,” I told her. “That’s never going to happen.”

My ex-wife sagged with relief. I got the sense that a great weight had been lifted from her, one that she'd been carrying the whole time she'd been here. Hearing that her daughter was safe was just about the only positive thing that had happened to her since her abduction.

I leaned in right next to the cage, so that I could whisper in her ear. “After all,” I said, “she's already a better cocksucker than her mother.”

Julie froze, and a sad little whine came out of her throat. I saw tears beginning to form in her eyes. Ahhh. It's nice to know that even after owning her for a year, I can still find new ways to make my pet cry. I left for work with a smile on my face and a song in my heart. Life was good.

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