Here's your next installment, enjoy!
Chapter Five
‘Time to go upstairs and get you ready for bed’ Brett said with a smile, ‘you’ve got a lot to get through tomorrow.’ He stood up and motioned for Jack to follow him, they walked up stairs and back into Brett’s bedroom. ‘You’re going to be sleeping on the floor tonight, I’ll decide on a more permanent place for you as the weeks go by’ Brett said, pointing to the area of carpet at the end of his bed. Jack grimaced at his supposed sleeping arrangements, however what gave him greater cause for concern was the assertion that he was going to be spending further nights in Brett’s house. ‘Anyhow, before you actually go to sleep there are a couple of things that we need to sort out.’ Brett crossed the room and opened one of the drawers at the side of his desk. After rummaging around for a couple of seconds he eventually found what he’d been looking for. ‘This is for you’ he said, handing Jack what appeared to be a dog collar, ‘whilst in this house you are to wear it at all times.’ Jack was dumbfounded; he thought the events of the evening had been shameful enough and yet now he was expected to don a collar, ‘you’re a fucking sicko’ he shouted, throwing it across the room. Brett turned and walked towards him, picking the collar up from the floor, ‘you can scream and shout as much as you like…. but you know, as well as I know, that you will be putting it on’ he said calmly, ‘I’m not even going to bother wasting my breath in explaining what will happen if you don’t; because you know full well.’ He pulled Jack in front of him and pushed his chin upwards; he brought the collar around his neck and fastened the buckle in place. Jack didn’t even bother to struggle, there really was no point. ‘Now thank your master for the privilege’ Brett said in a mocking tone. ‘Fuck you’ Jack replied. Within seconds Jack regretted his response; Brett turned and forcefully brought his knee directly into Jack’s bollocks, he hit the floor holding his stomach. ‘Let’s try again’ Brett said pulling Jack to his feet. ‘Thank you master for allowing me the privilege of wearing the collar’ Jack said, wincing and taking heavy breaths. ‘Good, that wasn’t so hard now was it? You will how ever receive a punishment for your behaviour, I do not expect my slaves to swear, nor do I expect them to question my orders.’ Jack couldn’t believe what he was hearing, had he really just been referred to as a ‘slave’. However such worries were quickly eradicated from his mind as Brett grabbed the buckle of the collar and started to lead him out of the room. Jack had to walk quickly, if he didn’t keep up the collar became too tight and he struggled to breath. Brett led him into the bathroom and over to the sink.
Brett opened the cupboard below the sink and pulled out two items; a toothbrush and a bar of soap. ‘As you seem to lack the ability to refrain from using bad language, you’re going to clean your teeth using the soap as toothpaste. Hopefully this will teach you to control your potty mouth. Now take the soap, run it under the tap and coat the brush.’ Despite the disgusting nature of what he was about to do, Jack didn’t spend any time deliberating whether to disobey; the sting in his bollocks was a strong enough reminder of what would happen if he didn’t do as he was told. The next few minutes seemed to go on forever. The soap tasted horrific and as he continued to brush, the volume of soapy suds increased; on three occasions he had to suppress the urge to be sick. ‘Now what do you say?’ Brett questioned. ‘Sorry for swearing master’ Jack said quickly, intent on avoiding further punishment. ‘Well done slave, you appear to be learning. However let me warn you, swear at me again and you will receive a punishment of much greater severity. Now go back into my bedroom and lie at the foot of my bed.’ Whilst Jack followed the command, Brett brushed his teeth and then stripped off his clothes.
Carrying his clothes Brett walked back to his bedroom. To his great pleasure Jack had followed his order and was lying at the end of the bed; Brett knelt down beside him. ‘Now before you shut your eyes and go to sleep, I need to punish you for disobeying my orders earlier on in the day.’ Brett chucked his clothes onto the bed, but brought his boxer-shorts down in front of Jack’s face, ‘in order to remind you of who it is that you serve, tonight you will sleep with my boxers, across your face.’ Before Jack had a chance to react, Brett pulled the shorts down over his head, aligning them so that his nose was parallel with the flies of the shorts. He proceeded to throw Jack a blanket, turn off the bedroom light and get into bed ‘night night my little slave’ he mocked with great pleasure. ‘Night’ Jack huffed. Brett got out of bed and pulled the blanket from Jack’s grasp, ‘you seem incapable of addressing me properly, consequently you can spend the night without the blanket’; Brett climbed into bed and drifted off to sleep.
Over the course of the day Jack had experienced the whole spectrum of emotion; initial joy had turned into fear; fear had turned to hatred; hatred had turned to embarrassment; and embarrassment had turned to pure shame. He felt as if all dignity had bad been permanently erased. In his pink ‘slut’ knickers he laid silent and still, the buckle of the collar digging into his neck.
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It took Jack hours to fall asleep. The collar was extremely restricting, not allowing much room to manoeuvre his head. The leather was course and felt like sandpaper against his neck. It took him a while to find a position that offered some comfort, he had no pillow to rest his head on and due to his earlier mishap had no blanket to lie beneath. But worst of all were the boxer shorts; they made his head very hot and made him feel slightly claustrophobic. They also smelt of Brett, or more to the point they smelt of Brett’s manhood; it took a long time for Jack to become accustomed to the scent that filled his nostrils.
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