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Embracing my perversion

Complicatedly vers: mostly sub yet can get a dominant and sadistic streak with the right boy. I've developed a particular interst in cuckolding scenarios and have been lucky enough to have some real-life experience. None of the photos or videos are mine; let me know if you want me to remove your content. No minors, please!

While you're here, check out my long, multi-chapter stories. Here's the index. Shorter story captions are tagged #story. I am in the process of editing and backing up my multi-chapter stories to literotica as well; you'll find my profile here.
To celebrate 10k followers (more than 12.5k now!), I am also curating my favourite posts month by month. It's also a work in progress, but you'll find my selection under the hashtag #retrospective.

This blog contains fantasies that include lack of consent, potentially dangerous practices, and the use of homophobic slurs for the purposes of erotic humiliation. All of that is fantasy and not real life. I do not condone or encourage any of this in real life--never confuse the two!

All characters in stories and captions are adults.
Be safe, be sane, and respect people's limits!

A different kind of zoo: Part III Being a brat

For the beginning of the story, see here.

See also #boy zoo story


I have no idea how long it was before the next man came to play with me. Smelling and tasting the jock's socks sapped all my mental energy I could not think about anything else than his feet and his smells. I had no idea whether he had left five minutes ago or five hours. Sure, a few men had come by in the meanwhile. They played with my pussy, spanked my ass, and twisted my nipples, but I barely noticed it everything was just a blur. My senses and my consciousness were completely taken over by a pair of very dirty and stinky socks. I vaguely understood that things were getting busier again but as long as I was gagged like this, I could barely pay attention to any of the new men gathering around our cages. 
That was until one man took the initiative of undoing the gag. Suddenly, I was brought back to the reality of being a puppy in a boy zoo. I realized there were four or five men looking me over and that the puppy I shared my cage with had been taken away probably to be used in one of the play rooms. Clearly, the mid-evening lull is over. I look up at the man who had broken my spell. He was an older man white hair but in good shape; a bit of a silver fox, really. He smiled and said: "Welcome back to reality, boy! These stinky socks clearly had you in a trance. Don't worry, we don't have to get rid of them, but for now I want you to focus on me." 

A bit shocked to have been called on the fact that I was not paying attention to the men as I was supposed to, I hurried to assure him that I'd be paying full attention now. 
- "It'd be a shame to let the flavours and aromas of these wonderfully smelly socks go to waste, though. Here, let me soak them into your water bowl so that all the water you'll drink will be nicely feet flavoured." 
- "Thank you, Sir. That is very thoughtful of you." 

Classroom discipline
He played with me for a while as some of the other men turn their attention to some of the other boys or go see what's going on in the other display rooms. I kneeled in front of him with my nose buried in his bulge, as he pinches my sore nipples. He asks me whether I've been a bad boy tonight. I know that I cannot but answer in the affirmative. I have not been paying these men the attention they deserved. 
- "Yes, Sir. I've been a bad boy." 
Saying these words both excites me surely, I'll get punished by this daddy and scares me I have a feeling that the punishment may not simply be a few smacks on my bare ass. 
- "Do you need to be put in your place, boy?" 
I smile and look up at him: "Yes, Sir! Show me where I belong." 

He tells me to kneel with my back against the bars. He cuffs my hands behind my back and then cuffs my ankles. The chain between the ankle cuffs is barely a foot long. Next, he orders my to put my face against the floor and push my pussy up, as he shoves a large butt plug up my asshole. I wince as he pushes the thickest part past my sphincter. He ignores my discomfort and pushes on. 
He opens the cage and I crawl out. I kneel next to him and he grabs me by my ear. He painfully pulls me to my feet and starts dragging me by my ear to another part of the building. He walks fast and I struggle to keep up he has to pull me forward by my ear. The short chain and the big butt plug make keeping up with him difficult. I cannot help but feel like I look ridiculous, as seems to be confirmed by the smirks, catcalling, and lewd comments of masters and guests we pass in the hallway. 
Somehow this treatment makes me feel much more embarrassed than any of the other humiliations I have already suffered tonight. Is it because he's a distinguished-looking older man? Is it because this is the kind of treatment that naughty little boys deserve? Being seen as a submissive pervert affected me less than being seen as a naughty little boy. 

By the time he opens a door that reads 'classroom' and leads me in, my face is completely red from blushing. He sits me down on one of the simple wooden chairs which drills the big butt plug deep and painfully into my ass and grabs my red face, turning it up towards him. 
- "Awww, is the little boy embarrassed?" 
Being treated like a little, naughty boy brings out the brat in me. I don't answer him in defiance. He smirks and say, "Oh, you want to play the role of the defiant brat, do you? That's OK. I like that too." 
He turns my face to the far wall and I see a naked boy with a glowing red ass, kneeling in a corner on uncooked rice and with his hands behind his head. I recognize the ass as the one that I ate a Latin load out of earlier that night my cage mate. 
- "He thought it would be fun to play a brat as well. Look at him now." 

Of course, the man knows all too well that he just issued me a challenge: let's see whether I can be a brattier and more defiant brat than him. As he undoes the cuffs on my wrists and ankles, he asks me: "So, are you going to be a brat or are you going to be a good boy and beg me to suck my cock?"  
- "Whatever, old man! I'll never beg you. I bet you you cannot even get it up anyway." 
I wondered whether I had taken it too far. He slaps me hard across the face and I almost fall of the chair; just as I manage to steady myself, he slapped my other cheek. It takes me a few seconds to find my composure. 
- "So, that's how you want to play it, don't you? Fine. Prepare to suffer until you're in tears and begging me to stop you know, like that little bitch over there." 
I know I've taken it exactly as far as I should have. I smile and say: "Do your worst, old man!" 

He pulls me off the chair by my hair and puts me over his knee. I haven't been spanked like this since I was a child and while the open hand spanks stung, they were hardly something I couldn't deal with. He'd need a lot of patience if he's going to make me beg like this. After a few dozen slaps, however, the sting is starting to build up and accumulate. From a pleasant light tingle, the feeling is coming to increasingly resemble real pain. Before tonight I would probably have asked him to stop right here, but now I am going to outlast him now, I crave the pain instead of fearing it! 
Surely, by now my ass must look glowing red, just like that of the boy in the corner. He notices that I am starting the struggle taking the pain and comments: "Not so defiant anymore now, are you boy?" 
Not ready to throw in the towel, I respond: "Is that the best you can do?" 
- "Oh no, boy. We're nowhere near that! In fact, why don't I kick it up a notch." 

He orders me to stand with my hands against the wall and with my ass pushed out, presented for further punishment. He reaches into the drawer of the teacher's desk and pulls out a wooden paddle with holes in it. 
- "Count each whack." 
The first hit of the paddle hurts like hell. I scream and say "One, Sir!" 
- "Oh no, boy. That one didn't count. That was barely a smack it was so soft. That was just to get warmed up. Here's the first real one." 
He hits my with all his strength. The pain is excruciating. I need to catch my breath for a few seconds before I can count: "One, Sir!" 
The second hit is just as hard. I feel like falling to the floor for a second but I manage to stay in place. "Two, Sir!" By the third whack, my eyes start to tear up. "Three, Sir!"

- "How many of these paddlings do you want, boy?" 
I don't know what to say. If I give too low a number and my whole though boy act falls apart but how much of this can I really take? I have honestly no idea. How much did the other boy take? 
- "Why don't we start with a nice even dozen?" 
He continues. I bawl and sob with each slap, counting out loud but really counting down in my head to the last one. By the time we get to ten, I was struggling to stay on my feet and my face was a mess of tears and snot. I felt so humiliated yet proud that I had almost made it. 
At twelve, he told me that it was time for a break. Thank God! It didn't come one second too early. He made me kneel next to the other boy. I could see that he had been in tears as well. The man didn't make me kneel on rice, though. Here we were, two naughty boys tamed by an older man. Kneeling naked and in chastity, with our hands behind our heads. 
He calls the other boy over. I cannot see what is happening behind me but I hear the man order the boy to get in between his legs and suck his dick. The blowjob sounds wet and sloppy and the gagging sounds make me think that he is pushing the boy's head down. The man moans with pleasure and I am jealous that I am not the throat doing that to him. After a few minutes, though, he tells to other boy, "That's plenty, boy. I don't want to cum quite yet. Your slave brother must have something to work for as well." I smile knowing that I'll get his load eventually. 

I hear the click of a leash onto a collar and I hear the two of them walk away: "I'll be back in a few minutes, boy. You'd better not move a hair while I'm away." Here I am, naked and kneeling as he brings the other boy back to our cage. I must be quite the sight! I know these doors remain unlocked. Despite everything that I've already come to accept tonight, I still have an irrational fear of men walking in here and seeing me like this as if it is somehow any worse than all the other things they may see me do and submit to the rest of this night.

I am somehow relieved when he comes back and nobody else has entered this room in the meanwhile. 
- "Are you ready to beg for my dick yet?" 
The break from having my ass thrashed had allowed the pain to wane a bit and I feel emboldened to continue to 'brat': "Go to hell, old man!" 
- "Stand over here and bend over the back of this chair!" 
I stand behind the back of the chair, bend over the back of it, and hold the seat, so that my ass stick out perfectly as a target. I wonder whether my continued defiance was a smart move. Maybe I should have just begged for it to stop? My ass is still so sore, I am sure that even one more whack will bring back all the pain that had started to wane. 
He takes a rattan cane and reminds me that "you asked for this, boy." 

The first stroke hurts like hell. I'm not sure whether it's because this implement is even more painful than the paddle or because my ass is already so sore maybe it's both. I can barely say "One, Sir!" before the second stroke lands. Tears are already welling up. "Two, Sir!" 
By stroke number three, I know that it's now just a matter of time before I'm begging him to stop. Of course, I always knew that it would end like this because he would always just continue until I beg.
I am bawling, sobbing. I get to "Six, Sir!" it feels like a victory, because I didn't even think I would get this far!

By stroke number eight, I am barely managing to stay upright. This is it. I'm giving in! 
- "Please, Sir! I cannot take it anymore. Please stop! I'll do anything. I'll be your good boy, Sir! Please just stop the caning!"
I get on my knees and kiss his shoes, begging him to stop my punishment, promising to stop being a brat and be a good boy instead, and begging to let me suck his dick. 
He squats next two me and wipes off my tears with his finger. He tastes my tears and then lets me have a taste as well. They taste salty. 
- "It's OK, boy. You did well. You took your punishment like a good boy." 

I enjoy the brief moment of tenderness and intimacy and say "Thank you, Sir. I hope I made you proud." 
- "You sure did. However, you didn't quite manage to take as much of a thrashing as the other boy did. Don't worry about that, though. He's been coming here for months and I've had many opportunities to train him. You'll get there as well. You did well for a novice." 
Hearing these words hurt almost more than the physical thrashing. I was so sure I had taken all that was humanly possible! The other boy did better than me?! It felt like the ultimate humiliation! Sure, the man told me I did well, but the addition of 'for a novice' stung. Hearing that I was beaten by another boy only made me want to please the man more make it up to him. I beg him let let me service him worship his feet, eat his ass, suck his dick... anything to make up for the fact that I couldn't take anymore pain. 
The brat that he brought out in me is now tamed. I am now as submissive as I've ever been. 
He sits down on the big teacher's chair with his legs spread wide: "Show me what that throat can do, boy." I didn't have to be told twice. I immediately got on my knees between his legs and started getting his nice big dick wet. Pretty soon I was deep throating as if I had been stranded in the desert for days and this was my only source of water. I used plenty of tongue, massaged his dick head with swallowing motions, and produced tons of saliva and throat slime to make for a wonderfully wet and messy experience. 

I hear him moan and I know I'm doing an excellent job. He pushes my head all the way down and starts to fuck my throat deep, really deep. I manage not to gag but it is a struggle. He pulls me off his dick by my hair and holds me just far enough that I just cannot reach his dick head with my tongue stretched as far as it will go. Desperate to please him, I try to just reach his dick. I pull on my own hair this way and I must look pathetic so desperate to lick a stranger's dick, someone who has been beating and hurting me for the last few hours. 
- "You give an excellent blowjob, boy, and any other day I'd love to give you my load. But, the other boy has earned my load tonight. He earned it the hard way." Seeing the disappointment in my eyes, he laughs and says, "don't worry. I'm sure I'll see you here again and you'll have other opportunities to earn my load you'll learn to suffer for it." He tells me to turn around and pulls the big plug out of my ass. I feel empty and disappointed in myself. 
He took me back to my cage, where the other boy had just finished taking the load of a big hairy bear in his pussy. He was excited to see the silver daddy again he probably knew that the fact that he was still hard meant that he had been the better boy and taken more pain. He comes up to the bars, knowing that he's about the get rewarded. 

It hurts to see the other boy sucking on that beautiful daddy dick. I just know that I give a better blowjob than him. I catch his sideway glances, as if he's trying to rub it in my face that he's getting the load. Once again, I feel tremendous humiliation. That should have been my load but I let daddy down! 
Within minutes, the man shoots his load and tells the boy not to swallow it. As if to intensify my humiliation, he lets the boy show me the load in his mouth before allowing him to swallow. The smug smile on the boy's face after swallowing will stay with me for a long time to come. 

It's not like I hadn't already decided that I'd come back here as often as I could. But now I have yet another reason why I just won't be able to pass up any opportunity to serve men here. I need to get thrashed by this daddy again and earn his load! I have unfinished business... 
Daddy knows that and before he leaves the room, he pats me on the head and tells me he expects to see me here again: "I'm sure you'll do better then." 

TO BE CONTINUED I'm far from finished!
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