He stripped out of his khaki pants, white button down shirt, and Wal-Mart brand loafers. His slender five-foot-eleven-inch body was fully exposed in accordance with House Rule Number One. He folded his clothes and took them to the hamper then retrieved his collar. Once he was dressed appropriately, he went to the kitchen so he could start my dinner. While he was handling his business, I walked into the kitchen to greet him.“Bitch, how was your day?”“Hello, sir! It was good. How was yours?”“It was cool. This came in the mail for you,” I said tossing a bottle of spironolactone, a testosterone blocker to him.“Thank you, sir,” he replied opening it and swallowing one of the 100-mg tablets.I walked away and waited for him to finish cooking. You’re probably wondering why he takes pills to block his testosterone. Well, he does it because I require it. I am the man and he is a boi – a slutty faggot. We order four months’ worth of the d**g online for less than sixty bucks. He takes one a day. When we finished with them, what was left usually went in the river or to the pleasure barracks for common soldiers if they could still walk.I strode down to the hall, found the right room, stepped in and yelled, "On your feet, sluts!" My English was excellent since I had grown up in Milwaukee. I walked down the row of cots, two of which were occupied by an officer and a girl in rutting congress under thin blankets. I pointed to a cute blonde with a fine rack and said, "Put a choke leash on her," turned on my heel and left.The orderly brought me the blonde in a couple of minutes, a chain collar on her neck and a long leash in her hands. She looked up and me coldly and handed me the cord. I smiled at her, stepped back and lashed her buttocks soundly three or four times with the end loop, just to get her in the right mood. She cried out and jumped. "Come," I said, yanking the leash.I pulled her over to my revetment, found my crewchief and handed him the leash. "Give 'em all a chance on.
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