Thursday, September 18, 2014

My Property Is Where He Belongs

My slave went to the shower to wash the dirt an sweat down the drain. Tommy followed him around like his nose was stuck to back of the boys knees and actually climbed into the shower with him. The boy hadn't shave in weeks so his stubble was almost a beard. I asked him to keep it but I shaved his head.

A shaved head means two things to the boy. He is a slave and it is a sign of humility (a Buddhist attribute). I enforce his status by shaving his head myself. His beard remains in tenuous status. We'll see how that goes.

The slave came out to the family rather than going to bed to rest. He was carrying his Carrera chastity belt and handed it to me. He stood silently while I decided to leave him free or lock him up. His eyes pleaded. He needed it. I locked him up on the tightest setting. There was little holding it in place because of weight and muscle loss. He needed to muscle up again.

He laid on the floor so that his dogs could crowd around him. He placed his head on one of them then fell asleep until Tony woke him for dinner. He said he wasn't hungry but thanks. I grabbed him by the back of his neck and lifted him off the floor.

"You're Fucking Eating!"
I played with his food an ate a little until I slapped him on the side of his head, "You're Eating Everything on your Plate!" I was so fucking pissed at the moment.

We watched a movie together. I made him sit on the sofa next to me where he snuggle up against me. I've been denying myself this feeling for weeks.

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