I'd made good progress converting Corey from a regular straight guy into my owned boy, but I needed to keep that momentum going. He submitted easily enough when he was forced, but everything he did was was hesitant, halting. He was clinging to the hope that this was all some bad dream, that he would wake up one morning and he would go back to his old life and he could forget that any of this had happened. That needed fixing. He needed to learn his place.
A few days after our last meeting, I texted him after he got home from work. "Take a shower and be at my place by 8:00." I sent him my address again.
He didn't respond. As the clock ticked closer to 8, I began to wonder if he was actually going to try to run. No, he had no where to run, and he knew it. Just a few minutes before 8, I heard a knock on my door. I opened it to find a sheepish Corey staring at his feet.
I let him inside and motioned him to walk ahead of me. A few steps inside my door, he abruptly turned to face me. "Look, I just came to tell you I'm not doing this anymore." He was making a conscious effort to look determined, but the whole routine just looked like it had be practiced in front of a mirror. I broke into a broad smile.
"Corey, Corey. We both know you don't mean that."
"I do!" he said, a little overly eager.
I chuckled and put a hand on his shoulder. I was close enough I smell his body wash. "Then why did you take a shower?" His face flushed red and his mouth opened. He spent half a beat frozen like that trying to think of a response before I cut him off; "That last video of yours is awfully convincing. Looks like you've been sucking cock for years. And how you swallowed? You're a natural. Your ex Alicia is still posting memes of loser ex boyfriends. Can you imagine her reaction if I dropped that video in her lap? You'd be able to hear her laughing from the next time zone."
He clenched his jaw and shifted his weight, but kept his eyes down and said nothing. "That's right," I said, clapping his shoulder. "Let's have no more of that. In fact, that's why I brought you here. I don't think you've really accepted what's happened to you yet. Your old life? That regular-guy facade? That's over. You're my boy now. My property. You were always meant to serve. I'm going to make you see that."
His eyes flashed up at me. "That's not what I'm meant for. I'm straight."
I broke into a short laugh. "And you think that matters? No, you're a natural born bitch. A pushover. At your core, you're weak. That's why you you've never been able to stand up for yourself. You've let people walk over you your whole life. Deep down, you must have always been afraid you don't have the balls that other men have," I said, venturing a little into guesswork, but still pretty sure I was hitting close to the mark. "No, you were meant to do as you're told. Gay, straight, makes no difference. You were born to submit. What you want is beside the point. Now, come on."
I turned and started walking down the hall towards my living room. A second later, I heard Corey's footsteps behind me. I smiled at the sound. Sounds like I was right.
We got to the living room and I stopped. "Glad to see you see the truth in that."
"It's not true," he said quietly. "I'm just here because of the video."
I smiled at him "Sure, boy. Sounds like you've got some more to learn about yourself. You really will feel much better about all this once you accept you were meant for it. Now strip."
His blue-green eyes had a mixture of defeat and pleading in them. It was still a surreal experience being forcibly stripped down by another man. But he knew he had no choice. With a look, I let him know I meant it. He sighed and pulled his shirt over his head. Shoes, socks and pants joined the pile on the floor. He paused at his underwear again, a nicer pair of boxer briefs. He was expecting to get stripped down.
"Now," I said with impatience.
He pulled them off and stepped out of them, fully naked now in front of me. My cock twitched looking at him. I really had stumbled across a good one. Decently muscular and a little on the beefy side, nice cut cock to play with, strong legs and a nicely rounded ass. I couldn't wait to show him off.
"Put your hands on your head," I said, running my hand across his stomach. I stepped behind him, moving my hand from his belly down to his cock. He squirmed at my touch, but kept his hands up. My hands ran up to his chest, along his right arm and up to his wrist. With one hand, I took a silver pair of handcuffs out of my pocket, and with the other, brought his wrist down quickly behind his back. His right wrist was cuffed before he realized what was happening. He didn't resist as I pulled his other wrist down to be cuffed as well.
I stepped back around to see him standing completely helpless in front of me, turning beet red from humiliation of it. I smirked at him, grabbed him by the cock and gave it a sharp tug. "This way," I said, leading him by his cock into the next room.
As we turned the corner into my playroom, he stopped dead seeing what I had waiting for him, his cock pulling out of my grip. In the middle of the room was a small bench that came up just a little short of waist high. The broad top was covered in black padded leather, and halfway down each wooden leg, a padded leather arm stood out a couple feet. Ten or so leather straps hung down from it attached at various points. Corey could guess easily enough what it was for--he was going to be strapped belly down on the bench, with his arms and legs strapped to the padded arms, effectively being immobilized on all fours. His heart sank when he realized both his holes would be just the right height.
"Come along," I said, yanking him roughly by the arm. I pulled him to the bench and bent him over it before pulling first his left, then his right legs onto the broad arms of the bench. I fastened the straps around his ankles, knees and waist. Securely bound, I uncuffed his hands and pulled his arms into the proper position, tightening straps around his wrists and elbows as I went. When I was finished, he couldn't move an inch, ass up, cock and balls dangling off the edge of the bench, face at crotch level.
"Now it's time to adjust that attitude of yours," I said, walking behind him. I reached back and swatted his ass hard. He yelped, probably more from surprise than pain. That ratio was going to change.
"I want you to understand," I said, punctuating my sentences with smacks to his ass. "That I didn't choose you at random. I picked you because I can see straight through you. I saw that you were submissive. Weak. Inferior. That I could take whatever I wanted from you. And you'd never have the balls to stop me." His ass started to turn pink, then red. With each smack, his body would jerk just a little more, trying to twist his ass away from me. But he was bound tight.
"You think anyone else you know could be stripped down and spanked by a man?" I asked with a solid smack.
He paused. Another spanking suggested I wasn't being rhetorical.
"No," he grunted through clenched teeth.
