The Homecoming

The last day before his return to Rochester was a spectacle of a different kind. They had visitors. A policewoman, tall and strikingly handsome, with a severe blonde bun and eyes as cold as a winter sky, walked into the cottage. Behind her, on a leash, she led a person encased from head to toe in a thick, black rubber suit. The person's head was completely covered by a rubber dog's head hood, a realistic-looking muzzle with blind eye holes. A thick, studded collar held it in place, secured with a padlock. A large, floppy tail, similar to the one shoved in Eamon's own arse, protruded from a hole in the back of the suit.

The policewoman made a fuss of Eamon, talking in a high-pitched, syrupy baby talk that was more humiliating than any beating. "Well, hello there! Aren't you just the cutest little thing? Yes, you are! Such a good boy!" She reached down and played with his uncaged cock, her touch clinical, appraising. She looked over at Doris. "He'll do nicely."

She positioned her rubber-clad pet in the middle of the room. Eamon was commanded to "sniff" around the new arrival, to act the part of the curious dog. He crawled, his harness chafing, his movements clumsy. He sniffed at the rubber legs, at the floppy tail. It was only when the policewoman, with a casual, practiced movement, unzipped the crotch of the rubber suit and pulled out a caged cock that Eamon realized it was a man in the suit. A large, flaccid cock, trapped in its own steel prison.

"He's been a very naughty boy," she said to Doris, conversationally. "Needs to be taught a lesson about his place.

Eamon was ordered to mount the man. It took time for him to maneuver himself, strapped down in the crawling harnesses. Derick had to help, lifting his hips, guiding him into position. But he managed it. For the first time in over a year, his cock entered another person. The sensation was overwhelming, a tight, hot grip that sent a jolt of pure, animal pleasure through him. He began to move, his hips thrusting awkwardly, his body remembering a rhythm it thought it had forgotten.

He couldn't be sure through the thick rubber of the mask, but he thought he heard the man whimper as he fucked him. A muffled, broken sound that seemed to say, "Please, I'm sorry. Please don't." The sound was a flicker of recognition, a mirror of his own despair. It didn't stop him. It was an order. He fucked the man until he exploded in him, and the policewoman, with a sigh of satisfaction, pulled him off.

On the last night, they performed the final cleansing ritual. They released him from the dog harnesses, led him outside, and hosed him down again. The water was even colder this time, his body numb. He was dried in front of the fire, the warmth a cruel lie before the final beating. Doris used the split-tail whip again, laying into his back with a vengeance, as if to erase any memory of his presence. He didn't make a sound. He just took it until the world went black.

He woke up on the floor, his ankle chained to the wall. He was bound as he was when he arrived: hands cuffed, legs hobbled. He slept in front of the dying fire, a deep, dreamless sleep. Derick woke him while it was still dark. He was bundled into the back of a dirty Land Rover, still gagged and bound, and driven back to Rochester. It was still early morning, the sky a pale, pre-dawn grey when they arrived. He was dragged through a gate at the side of the house, up wooden steps to a back veranda. His collar was padlocked to a chain hanging from the railings. Derick decided to leaving a parting gift, he undid the fly on his jeans pulled out his cock and pissed all over Eamon before leaving him, steam rising into the cool morning air. left without another word.

Eamon was left exposed in the back garden, Derek's piss dried on his sores and stung. Luckily, the garden wasn't overlooked, and the weather was mild. He was left there all day, a forgotten ornament, as the sun rose and began its slow journey across the sky. He was hungry, thirsty, his body a map of pain and humiliation. He waited. He didn't know what for, but he waited. Finally, as dusk began to settle, lights went on inside the house. The back door opened, and there they were. His sister and his mother had returned. They were back.