Douchebag Pre-Trial Diversionary Program.
By The Slaver
Chapter 2. The Club Owner.
Dr. Saltzman parked his car well away from the club, he did not wish to be seen. It was nearly 4 am, the club would be closed; Dr. Saltzman did not want to be seen. Tonight, or really early morning, the Doctor was on a snatch job, to get someone from the club, to get information from about the club owner. Although Saltzman and the club owner were meant to be friends, the doctor did not know that much about the club owner, other than his name was Houston.
45 minutes later, Dr. Saltzman’s target came into sight; One of the club’s bouncers. A large mountain of a man, with a shaved head. Tattoos could be seen on of the thick arms that hung out of a black T-shirt, that the bouncer wore. The T-shirt, and black trousers the guy wore could barely contain, or cover the massif body of the bouncer. As the bouncer draw lethal with Saltzman’s car; the Doctor with quit a lot of force throw open the driver-side’s door; the bouncer doubled over from the impact of being hit by the car door. The Bouncer hung over the door gasping for breath, his head near the Doctor, siting in the car.
Dr. picked up a can; and then grabbed the gasping bouncer’s head and pulled it up. In one smooth move, Saltzman sprayed the contents of the can, full into the bouncer’s face. The bouncer did not stand a chance, the Rag-doll gas from the can took only a few seconds to knock out the bouncer. Dr. Saltzman climbed out of the car, and with much effort managed to pile the dead weight of the bouncer into the back of the car; without being seen. The Doctor climbed back into the car, and seconds later, he dove away.
Sun shone into Dr. Saltzman’s office, as it was a Saturday, the building was mostly empty. With a popping sound, the Doctor pulled his fist out of the bouncer’s whole. The bouncer let out a whimper, and then hung limp in the Fuck-sling he was strapped into. Smiling the Doctor cleaned his fist on the remains of the bouncer’s T-shirt.
“Straight, tops. Are so fourth coming with information when asked. I think the fact that there’s a fist up his ass, fucking the shit out of him, might also have something to do with it!” Said Dr. Saltzman, to the bouncer; who just hung in the sling, whimpering. Dr. Saltzman smiled at the bouncer, as he slipped earphones over his ears. The earphones were connected to an iPod. The Doctor turned on the iPod. A Douchebag Program began to reprogramme the bouncer.
A flash a lightning lit up the night sky, and the driving rain made it hard to see, as Houston parked his car outside of Dr. Saltzman’s mansion in the hills outside of the city. As Houston run from his car to the mansion’s front door; another flash of lightning lit up the sky. The Front door was open, and Dr. Saltzman stood in the doorway, seemly waiting for the club owner.
Houston run into the mansion, passed the Doctor, who closed the door behind Houston. The club owner pulled off his wet coat and hung it up. The Doctor smiled at Houston: who did not care for the look of the smile, there was something about it, that was all most evil.
Dr. Saltzman led Houston into the study; without saying a word the Doctor poured the club owner a drink and handed it too him. Since Houston had entered the mansion, Dr. Saltzman had not said a single word. The doctor walked behind a large desk, and sat down: he nodded to a chair in front of the desk. Silently, the club owner slid into the seat. For some time, the two men just looked at each other over the desk; somewhere in the mansion a clock chimed the half hour.
Houston took a sip of Whisky from the glass that Dr. Saltzman had just given him. “Now, Houston, let’s talk about why you lied to me about Lagarde. I know that he came to your club, I also know that you are now keeping him in cold storage somewhere and using him in slut mode every night at your club.” Dr. Saltzman smiled as he watched Houston gulp down more of his drink.
“Houston, I understand that you had a warped sense of duty. For me that was one of good things in you.”, Dr. Saltzman said, as he air-quoted ‘good things in you’ “That was until this little stunt you have just pulled. For me, the fact that you are straight, with a wife and sons, but run a sleazy club outside of town, where you can satisfy your lust for fisting guy’s wholes, and having your arse eaten out. That was a mystery to me. But maybe that was why you took Lagarde, so you could have a willing slut, on hand, 24/7.”
Dr. Saltzman watched Houston finish his drink, and then close his eyes. Dr. Saltzman kept talking to Houston with a circular psychobabble, hoping that the tasteless narcotic he slipped into Houston’s whisky would, soon take effect. “I’m … understand … coming … but … must …”, Houston said, his speech was slurred and confused, finally he dropped his head backwards onto the back of the chair and stopped speaking, the empty glass slipped from his hand.
Dr. Saltzman smiled and whispered to himself. “You asshole! Did you really thought you were going to fuck me over?” He opened a draw in his desk and retrieved an iPod and earbuds that he had downloaded a special Douchebag program, just for Houston. The doctor inserted the earbuds into Houston’s ears and activated the iPod. Dr. Saltzman sat and watched Houston as he listened to the ‘special Douchebag programming’. As the Douchebag program files were playing, Dr. Saltzman walked about the office, for a while; then he sat back down at his desk and read some case reports.
When he had stopped reading the files, Dr. Saltzman used his own lap-top to surf the web for porn. Work rules barred Dr. Saltzman from using the computer in his office, to scan the internet for porn. On his own lap-top, Dr. Saltzman found his favourite free porn site. After a quick look at Houston, the doctor whipped out his cock and started jerking off as he watched the pleasurable images, getting harder and harder until, eventually he climaxed, his cum splattering onto the screen of the laptop.
Dr. Saltzman laughed to himself as he watched his creamy goo drip down the lap-top screen. Dr. Saltzman stood up, and hobbled to the bathroom and grabbed some soapy paper towels to wipe himself clean; he then grabbed more soapy paper towels, went back into his office, and ripped the computer screen clean. He then resumed his seat at his desk, found another video and started jerked off again. Dr. Saltzman would have his fill of his favourite porn sites, while he patiently waited, as Houston listened to the five hours of special Douchebag programming files.
Hours later:
Houston opened his eyes. His head throbbed, a bad headache for sure. As he opened his eyes, he saw Dr. Saltzman sitting at his desk in front of him on the leather couch. “What happened?”, Houston asked. “You passed out. You wouldn’t answer. I was afraid to leave you alone.”, Dr. Saltzman answered. “Why didn’t you call for an ambulance?”, Houston said, as he tried to rise from his seat, but lacked the strength.
“I thought it best to just leave you; as you were!”, The doctor said, “Okay. I understand.” Houston said, again he tried to rise from his seat, but quickly sat back down. “I’m not feeling too good.” Houston mumbled, “Are you sure, sex slave?”, Dr. Saltzman asked. At once Houston’s eyes glazed over. His face took on a motionless stare. Dr. Saltzman wasn’t sure if Houston was in trance. “Sex slave, do you hear me?”, he asked.
“Yes.”, came the reply, “Yes, Sir.”, Dr. Saltzman insisted, in a harsh tone of voice, “Yes, Sir.”, Houston answered. “Yes, Sir.”, Houston replied. “From now on, you’re going to join me at my office late, after hours, every week night. Do you understand, sex slave?” Dr. Saltzman said, as he rubbed his cock through the front of his pants. “Yes, Sir.”, Houston said.
Dr. Saltzman smiled. He rose from behind his desk, and moved round to the front of his desk, then the doctor lowered his pants and jockstrap and exposed his massive cock. “Crawl to me and suck my cock, sex slave.”, he ordered. Houston fell to his knees on the ground, he then crawled on his hands and knees to Dr. Saltzman. He opened his mouth and began to suck Dr. Saltzman’s cock. “Nice and slow. Get me hard with your mouth. No teeth, sex slave. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”, Houston mumbled. Dr. Saltzman watched the arrogant club owner as he sucked his lengthening rod. Dr. Saltzman enjoyed Houston’s warm mouth as he licked and suckled upon his fleshy, veined rod. “You love my cock, don’t you, sex slave?”
“Yes, Sir”, Houston mumbled again. Dr. Saltzman shoved his cock deep down the club owner’s throat, forcing a gag reaction. Dr. Saltzman kept his cock down his throat until Houston could not breath, and then, released his mouth. Houston gasped as Dr. Saltzman’s cock lay upon his lips.
“Suck it, sex slave.”, Dr. Saltzman said. With every time he uttered the trigger, Houston fell deeper and deeper into trance, responding to Dr. Saltzman’s commands and orders robotically, without thought or hesitation. Even when Dr. Saltzman orgasm, Houston did not relent in his cock-sucking. He swallowed all of Dr. Saltzman’s pearly juice and began sucking anew.
Dr. Saltzman pulled his cock out of Houston’s mouth. He stared at the kneeling cocksucker and considered a change in plans. “Go sit in your chair and stroke your cock.” Houston returned to his chair, lowered his trousers and started stroking his meat. “Now, tell me everything about your sons, sex slave. And then you will be allowed to Cum!”
Sometime later, Houston let out an all-mighty cry, as he shot his load; rope, after rope of Cum exploded from his cock. Dr. Saltzman shut off the recorder mode on his computer, having recorded everything that Houston had told him, about his sons. Saltzman smiled as he watched Houston torcher his own cock after he had shot his last load. Houston cried out as he polished the head of his spent cock.
Finally, Dr. Saltzman thought that it was time to stop Houston, “Sex slave, in a moment I’m going to count down from 3 to 0, when I reach 0 you will fall into a deep sleep. After a few minutes you will awake. You will have no memory of what has happened here. But whenever you hear me say and only me say the words Sex slave, or receive a text from me starting sex slave, you will fall back into deep trance and do whatever I tell you to do. Do you understand sex slave?”
“Yes, Sire.” Houston said, before letting out another series of grunts and moans as he continued to polish his sent cockhead. “Good, sex slave. Now let go of your cock!” Houston let out one final loud grunt and let go of his sore cock. “Good sex slave, and now. 3, 2, 1, and 0.” Dr. Saltzman said. Houston slumped into his seat, his head on his chest, in a deep sleep.
The club owner woke up with a bad taste in his mouth, a very sore cock, and no idea where he was, or what had happened to him. Bright sun light shone into a large office, there was a large Rubber sheet on the Floor in the middle of the office. Houston stood up and walked towards the door of the office: but before he reached the door, it opened and Dr. Saltzman walked in, he closed the door behind him, and locked it.
Houston heard the click of the lock, and made a grab for the Doctor, “Sex Slave.” Houston froze on the spot, and his eyes glazed over. The Doctor smiled at the club owner. Saltzman after dressing the club owner had brought Houston to his office in the early hours of the morning to continue his training, being Sunday, the building was quiet, and empty. “Good sex slave!” The Doctor said in a low voice, Houston fell even deeper into trance. “Now sex slave, Serve your MASTER!”
Like a sleepwalker, or robot, Houston removed his trousers and white t-shirt and knelt on the Rubber sheet in the middle of the office. Dr. Saltzman smiled, as he moved nearer to Houston; lowered his pants, pulled aside his Leather Jock, and plopped his think long dick upon Houston’s lips. Houston stared into the Doctor’s eyes. “You weren’t thrilled to come and see me last night, were you, sex slave?”
“No.”, Replied, Houston in a low, but almost robotic sort of voice. “Because of what you have done to Lagarde, and the way you tried to Fuck me over?”, The Doctor asked, he already know the answer. But he wanted to hear it from the now totally mind-fucked club owner.
“Yes.”, Came the reply from Houston, in the same, low but almost robotic voice. Dr. Saltzman smiled and patted Houston on the head; then the doctor placed his finger upon Houston’s moist lips. “Don’t say another word.” He said as he slipped his fingers into Houston’s mouth and then he ordered. “Suck my fingers.”
Houston let out a single moan, but, then obeyed Dr. Saltzman. Saltzman was so far superior to Houston that he could only hope to obey and please Dr. Saltzman. When the Doctor fed Houston his cock, from then on, all Houston knew was that his role from now on was to suck Houston’s cock: and those of other Masters. And, oh! What a cock. The Doctor’s cock filled Houston’s mouth and slid down his throat. Houston should have gagged, but he did not; Houston’s gag reflex had gone!
At first Dr. Saltzman’s cock was so velvety soft, but then, suddenly the cock became rock-hard like a diamond. Houston could feel the veins popping from Saltzman’s shaft.
When Cum started flowing from Dr. Saltzman’s fleshy spicket, Houston stared into his eyes. “Must have cum!”, The club owner thought to himself. Houston sucked the Doctor’s cock, with vigour, making sure every last drop of Dr. Saltzman’s Cum slid down his throat. Houston heard the Doctor talking to him the whole time his cum slithered down Houston’s throat, but it did not make any sense to Houston. Dr. Saltzman was so smart, and Houston was only some dumb jock, who had crossed the Doctor: Houston could never understand what Dr. Saltzman was saying to him.
‘But, it didn’t matter. As long, as I sucked Saltzman’s cock, good, I’d be fine.’ Houston thought to himself, sucking even harder. Finely, Dr. Saltzman grunted, and pulled his spent cock out of Houston’s mouth; droplets of Cum fell from the piss-slit onto the Rubber sheet as he pushed it back into his Leather jock. He pulled up his pants; and stared into Houston’s eyes and said, “I’m gonna go fuck some Douchebag of a bouncer, and then make plans for your sons, but don’t worry, I’m coming back.”
“Yes Master. Anytime Sire.”, Houston replied, still on his knees; licking his lips clean of Dr. Saltzman’s Cum.