First Days Play with a New Toy.

It had been 6 months and 5 days. Denied and constantly caged, except for when I let him out, supervised. 

I had a new toy to introduce him to. I had bought it and saved it for a special occasion. Today was the special day. He knew nothing of it, except that he was going to be experiencing something new.

Although it fitted my mouth perfectly when I tested it for size, it was a struggle for him to get it in. We eventually had to compromise with it tilted slightly backwards to accommodate his small jaw stretch. I fastened it tightly behind his head and then proceeded to wrap his head with black cling wrap that I had salvaged from a recent parcel. I kept his mouth free, but it was very easy to apply a smaller piece of the black plastic just over his mouth, to assert control.

I loved how his mouth was held open, ready. An orifice for my amusement. I could put in there whatever I wished to. And, as I did so, I reminded him how it was his duty to serve me. To be obedient. He does forget sometimes, his place. He does, in the every day world forget, and asserts his opinion, his right, his feelings. I very rarely, if ever, say anything at the time. But I save the evidence, and recount the correct manner for a slave when he is appropriately beneath me, mentally.

Today, he was very beneath me. I made him so, and I loved making him so. The things that I dropped into the circular ring which force held his mouth open were bad. They lowered him, and made him something less. They made him my slave. My obedient worshipper, willing to take whatever I dropped into the disposal unit his mouth hole had become.

And then, when he thought I had made my final insult, I asked if he wanted the most disgusting thing ever. At first he couldn't think what could be more disgusting. But he was thinking with his head and not mine. For me, there was the most vile and disgusting thing imaginable yet to come. But it required him to produce it.

And so I placed a plastic bag over his desperate, dancing and straining cocklet. I instructed him to rub against the bed, and as he was ready to produce the most disgusting thing ever, he was to take the last morsel from my hand and devour it. For this, the ring was removed from his mouth.

He told me later that the contents of the bag has been relief to his mouth, after the horrendous things I had placed in there. 

I felt no regret, unease, guilt or lessening of my will for him to consume my offering, despite the way he struggled with it in his mouth. Despite the way he gagged on it. All that did was make me feel proud that my boy was doing this for me. He was taking all that I was giving. It was a very deep act of submission.

It became a very loving act. It became something that brought a closeness. And he, now, when I look at him, is lower. Lower than ever. But I treasure him far more as my slave for committing himself to my will. 

For accepting humiliation for my pleasure.