Our live-in pool boy had been getting progressively lazier with his duties, often taking hours for menial tasks, and even being caught lounging around instead of doing any work.
My first instinct was to fire him, but his family needed the money to survive. However, I was not a charity case either and this young man needed to learn discipline and if he wouldn't choose to be productive - then he would be forced to.
I paid my burly gardener handsomely to help with the pool boy's new 'promotion' by having him grab the little twink while he was pretending to fish leaves out of the water.
He screamed and protested in both Spanish and broken English as he was led away into the basement of the house. I didn't bother explaining to him what was happening to him - honestly, it made his panic more enjoyable to watch.
My gardener chained him up, keeping the boy's body lithe and prone while we both took our time cutting at the fabric of his clothes while he tried to writhe and tug at his bonds. A few veiled threats with scissors kept his wriggling to a minimum. If I wanted blood from the boy, I would've done so already.
I took a moment to admire him in his white briefs, trembling and protesting as his remarkable bulge swung inside. The both of us even took pictures, adding to his embarrassment.
Then came the big reveal and I snipped the underwear off, causing him to cry out in horror as his impressive meat flopped down and dangled between his legs. The way he jolted when I cupped his heavy balls caused my own dick to wake up. Such equipment on such a skinny thing, it was admirable.
My gardener asked why I did not gag him, but this was a private estate in a soundproofed basement - plus I enjoyed the sounds he made. Especially when I shoved the chrome vibrator up our former pool boy's hole, causing him to spasm and his cock twitch with the electro shocks to his prostate.
The boy watched in revulsion as his cock began to rise despite the anal invasion, coupled with our hands oiling his tanned body and letting it glisten. When it was finally hard enough, I brought out the milking machine.
His eyes near bugged out of his head when the suction pump was fitted onto his cock, and he moaned and whined like a bitch in heat as it mechanically sucked at his throbbing member. The sensory overload of it all made his first cum-shot very quick and he winced when he saw his creamy load get swallowed up by the machine.
Then, he realized that the machine wasn't stopping. His sensitive cock was in agony as he was forced to cum repeatedly. He pleaded for it to stop, apologizing for his laziness but what's done is done. He was making a far better cum cow and sex puppet than a pool boy.
After being milked dry, I locked his over-worked parts into a nice snug cage so that they'll be nice and full for the next milking tomorrow. Then to emphasize his current situation, I shoved an anal hook into him for a good couple of hours while the gardener whipped him.
To really hammer home his new role, he no longer had the privilege of a bedroom. Bedrooms were for staff, and he was not staff anymore - he was a commodity of the house. A cage under the stocks would suffice now.
I wonder if my next pool boy will have the same attitude problem... I can always start a collection.
My first instinct was to fire him, but his family needed the money to survive. However, I was not a charity case either and this young man needed to learn discipline and if he wouldn't choose to be productive - then he would be forced to.
I paid my burly gardener handsomely to help with the pool boy's new 'promotion' by having him grab the little twink while he was pretending to fish leaves out of the water.
He screamed and protested in both Spanish and broken English as he was led away into the basement of the house. I didn't bother explaining to him what was happening to him - honestly, it made his panic more enjoyable to watch.
My gardener chained him up, keeping the boy's body lithe and prone while we both took our time cutting at the fabric of his clothes while he tried to writhe and tug at his bonds. A few veiled threats with scissors kept his wriggling to a minimum. If I wanted blood from the boy, I would've done so already.
I took a moment to admire him in his white briefs, trembling and protesting as his remarkable bulge swung inside. The both of us even took pictures, adding to his embarrassment.
Then came the big reveal and I snipped the underwear off, causing him to cry out in horror as his impressive meat flopped down and dangled between his legs. The way he jolted when I cupped his heavy balls caused my own dick to wake up. Such equipment on such a skinny thing, it was admirable.
My gardener asked why I did not gag him, but this was a private estate in a soundproofed basement - plus I enjoyed the sounds he made. Especially when I shoved the chrome vibrator up our former pool boy's hole, causing him to spasm and his cock twitch with the electro shocks to his prostate.
The boy watched in revulsion as his cock began to rise despite the anal invasion, coupled with our hands oiling his tanned body and letting it glisten. When it was finally hard enough, I brought out the milking machine.
His eyes near bugged out of his head when the suction pump was fitted onto his cock, and he moaned and whined like a bitch in heat as it mechanically sucked at his throbbing member. The sensory overload of it all made his first cum-shot very quick and he winced when he saw his creamy load get swallowed up by the machine.
Then, he realized that the machine wasn't stopping. His sensitive cock was in agony as he was forced to cum repeatedly. He pleaded for it to stop, apologizing for his laziness but what's done is done. He was making a far better cum cow and sex puppet than a pool boy.
After being milked dry, I locked his over-worked parts into a nice snug cage so that they'll be nice and full for the next milking tomorrow. Then to emphasize his current situation, I shoved an anal hook into him for a good couple of hours while the gardener whipped him.
To really hammer home his new role, he no longer had the privilege of a bedroom. Bedrooms were for staff, and he was not staff anymore - he was a commodity of the house. A cage under the stocks would suffice now.
I wonder if my next pool boy will have the same attitude problem... I can always start a collection.
