: Lance Edwards 2017-06-28
: The Club Owner's Troubles
: Pink Flamingo Media
: 9781938897641
: 1
: CHF 5.10
:
: Erzählende Literatur
: English
: 157
: kein Kopierschutz
: PC/MAC/eReader/Tablet
: ePUB

Dara Dupree was a Caribbean street girl and prostitute who rose to wealth and power running the most popular fetish club in the islands. To treat herself upon reaching such success, she buys an adolescent male to conceal in an underground apartment below her estate...

Chapter Two

Drew

I am a slut-boy.

I am a male who is shamelessly addicted to having his ass fucked at every opportunity. I can’t live without it and I feel distressingly incomplete every instant I’m not feeling a big hard cock stabbing violently into my behind.

As gorgeous Mistress Dara leaves I do as she has ordered me to. I reflect and even joyously obsess on this new and incredibly apt identity as I at last lie down on the floor to eat. Taking care not to get my hair in my mouth or the bowl (something I am well practiced at as I’ve never been allowed to use utensils or even my hands while feeding) I quickly wolf down the delicious meal I’ve been provided.

The food here is yet another indication of the simply astonishing improvement in my circumstances. Though I’ve been trained to cook all manner of sumptuous repasts I’ve never eaten a hot meal in my life and have subsisted on mostly coarse, bland fare until now. The meat, the vegetables and gravy are all by far the most delicious I’ve ever tasted. I empty the bowl and lick it spotless, thrilled and gratified all over again. Then I struggle back onto my feet and ease around the small sink until I can get a hand to the faucet. Clear cold water gushes out, as much as I could possibly want: another inconceivably generous blessing. Rather than greedily and sloppily stick my face in this though I take the time and awkward effort to fill my bowl, set it on the floor and turn the faucet off before I lie back down to drink my fill. After I use the commode I fill the dish again before curling up near it to rest.

It’s a good thing I do. Shortly afterward the lights in my heavenly new home go out and I’m plunged into impenetrable pitch darkness. I can’t see an inch in front of my face, and all is complete and utter silence. Even the creaks and groans of the structure, the rushing of water through pipes and distant movements of other people I’m used to are totally absent. I now understand what Mistress meant by ‘soundproofed’. A little unsettled by this sensory void, and still far too excited by all the other changes in my life to sleep I pass the time continuing to do as my new goddess ordained. I reflect on the new truths revealed about me, recall all the glories of the day past and even quietly giggle and gloat over my paradisiacal new life here.

My physical world alone has expanded wildly. Before there were only a few small rooms: the one where I was disciplined and lived in my tiny cage, the kitchen where I was trained to cook and clean and the slightly larger one where I learned sewing and other craf