It had been almost touching, how relieved he’d seemed when I walked back into the room, even though I’m sure he knew I was just going to be up his ass again after I finished feeding him. Sure, I’d chloroformed him and kidnapped him right out of the alley where he was playing behind his house, and raped the ass off him all the way across country to Wyoming, but you still had to figure he’d been pretty scared, left strung up naked by his wrists to the central support beam in the cabin’s one large room while I drove the truck 30 miles back into the nearest town to get some chow. Punk had actually seemed happy to see me when I’d gotten back from the food run, which I suppose was natural. Then I offered him the straw coming out of the top of the milkshake, and he gratefully took a long swig. I held the cheeseburger patiently while Punk bit off a mouthful of it, chewed carefully, and then swallowed. Punk groaned but said, a mixture of misery and lust in his whimpering voice, “A little faggot… I’m a little cocksucking faggot… I like to suck dicks, daddy… plah… please…” “You know what that makes you, Punk?” I asked him, my voice gentle. I reached out and pinched his earlobe with my fingernails.
I wanna… I wanna suck your big cock, please.” He squeezed his eyes tightly closed and shuddered, but then whispered, “Please, daddy, I… I wanna suck it.
“Does my little cocksucking girlie boy want daddy’s dick in her mouth?” I teased him.