Collecting and preparing the boy
I parked my car across the road from his house, just out of view to prevent him from being able to see me. I opened the boot and retrieved my bag; the bag contained many implements that would be used to alter the appearance of my slave to however I desired. It’s safe to say that when I finally load him into the boot to take him home, he will be unrecognisable. As I approached his door my heart was racing at the prospect that in a few short minutes I would own a submissive, whether he knew it or not. I knocked on the door and waited. Minutes later the door opened revealing an anxious looking tom.
“Boy why did you take so long to answer the door, under my ownership I expect immediate obedience and eager responses.”
The boy replied with a Shakey voice “ownership… you don’t own me I am my own person; you can’t own a person like you can a dog.”
I barged past the boy and slammed the door shut, he began to shake, and tears sprang into his eyes. “On your knees boy” I demanded. He sank to his knees and dropped his eyeline to the floor.
“Good boy, it appears you cannot object to your submissive nature, for many men its biological and you cannot run from it.”
I tugged on the boys fluffy brown hair and looked directly into his eyes as I locked the dog collar around his neck. “Boy as long as you wear this collar you are under my control; you will be at my beck and call, and I suspect that you will thrive under the ownership of a superior man.”
I attached the lead to the collar and tugged him down the corridor toward the bathroom, he followed clumsily on his hands and knees, when we reached the bathroom I ordered him to kneel as I rustled through my bag before producing a set of hair clippers and razors, the boy began visibly shaking at the sight.
“Boy I want you to be bare like a boy and I will treat you as such, lean forward so I can remove the hair on your head and give you a proper slave head”
The boy began to plead “please sir, I’ll do anything you want but don’t take my hair”
I slapped him across the face and spat “it’s not up to you anymore boy, I own you and you will simply just submit”
Tom slowly moved his head forward and I placed the clippers on his forehead, they roared to life and ploughed them through his thick hair. His hair fell and he began to cry, before long his head was denuded and all that was left was a sprinkling of stubble, he was really beginning to look like a slave boy. I grabbed his chin and forced him to look directly into my eyes “Boy you will never grow hair on your head again, hair is for men, and you are nothing but a submissive bitch”. The boy continued to cry and shake as I removed its eyebrows and his moustache, before cuffing its hands and chaining it to the shower pole. Over the next few minutes I denuded the boys entire body, removing its pubes, leg, and arm hair, whilst recounting what it is to expect in its new life.
When the boy was completely bare, I untied him and pushed his head deep into the toilet bowl.
“Boy, beg me to piss on your pathetic shaved head”
The boy sobbed whilst barely audibly saying “please sir, piss on my head”
I retrieved the crop from my bag and hit the boy across the back leaving a large red mark brewing on its slave flesh. “LOUDER BITCH!!”
The slave cleared its throat and clearly spoke “please master piss on my pathetic, shaved head” and I unleashed my superior man urine on to its head washing away any sense of self that the slave once had. I flushed the toilet whilst the slaves head was still pushed into the water just to further drill home how low the boy is now.
The boy was dripping wet, and I forced it to lie shackled on the bathroom floor to dry whilst I prepared for the next step of its transformation. The next lesson the boy need to learn was its penis was no longer its property anymore, its only reason for existence was to service the dicks of superior men, just like its master. I deftly locked the boy up in a chastity cage, a cage that was too small for its dick in an attempt to shrink its pathetic slave clit as it lives under my control. The boy had not stopped cry and continued to sob as it saw its manhood being taken out of its control.
I picked the boy up of the floor and hauled it down the corridor towards its bedroom, I ordered the boy to pack a small bag of its clothes that I deemed suitable to be worn at times when it was not appropriate for the slave to be naked, although naked will be its natural state. A pathetic slave boy should not hide its body from superior men. The boy struggled to pack with its hands shackled together but with the motivation from my crop it quickly got the job done before kneeling back at my feet. “Boy go get a bin bag and dispose of everything else in this room” the boy looked bewildered but obeyed, it trudged down the corridor towards the kitchen before returning and piling all of its former belongings into the bags. Eventually the boys room was just a blank canvas, a reminder that it no longer had a life or any belongings, it was just a blank canvas for me to mould into the perfect slave.
I grabbed the boys lead and dragged it, bin bags in hand out of the front door of its former home, the boy sobbed as it threw the bags into the bin and walked away from its former life. As we reached the car the boy was on edge looking around aware of the fact that it was stark naked in public. “Boy it doesn’t matter if someone sees your pathetic body; your life is controlled by what I say and what I want people to see.”
The boy quivered before replying “yes sir” defeatedly.
I opened the boot and shoved the boy in before shackling it down and rendering it immobile. I slammed the boot closed and made my way to the driver’s seat, feeling proud and excited at the prospect of taking my new pet home.
