#toptobottom | dumb-and-jocked-archive (2024)

It had been idiotic to take a solo trip to Dubai.

I had known it would be dangerous, but I was young and dumb and heartbroken. Sure, I had just graduated with a Masters in Microbiology, but that didn’t necessarily mean I was street smart. I had just wanted to get out and explore the world…and get away from my ex-girlfriend who had just broken up with me after two years. I had nothing to tie me down anymore; no reason to stay in one place forever. My parents told me I could go anywhere in the world as their graduation gift to me, and I chose to go where I knew I could spend a few bucks. Sure, I was an averagely built, 5’9 straight white male, but I thought the rumors wouldn’t apply to me. That I’d be special. Well, it turns out I was not.

After my long flight, I finally landed in Dubai on a sunny Friday afternoon. I already had plans to go clubbing that night before a long Saturday of shopping and adventuring. But as soon as I had left the airport, what I thought was the unthinkable had already happened. All I remembered was waking up in a room with a bed, a mirror, a toilet, and a door with no handle on the inside. My clothes had been taken and I was instead naked underneath a simple white dress-looking thing. After a thorough inspection, I didn’t find anything on my body that alerted me as “wrong” or “altered”. So, after a long bout of panicking and screaming and begging for help, I simply sat there and waited.

Aftab eventually came in and introduced himself. By “eventually,” I mean hours after I had woken up. Although, I had lost any concept of time, with not even a window to give me a clue. And by “introduced,” I mean he asserted himself and his position. He followed his own schedule and strutted in like he owned the place, which obviously he did. He just simply stared at me for a moment, his eyes scanning my body like it was a possession of his.

“My name is Aftab.” His statement was firm, unyielding. His deep baritone reverberated around the room with a noticeable Arabic accent. “But you will soon refer to me by a title more appropriate of my status.”

I replied with nothing, which was apparently the right thing to do. I investigated him while he investigated me. He was 5’11, and underneath his garments I could tell he was well built. He appeared strong, confident, and something about him appeared intelligent. He obviously had money, both noticeable by the quality of his fabrics and the ability to hide a room like the one I was in. Aftab wanted to be feared, respected. I struggled to decide if I’d get out faster playing along or fighting back.

“As a domestic object, there’s a lot you will need to learn about my culture and my needs.” He walked over to the bed and stroked your cheek. You didn’t move, not simply afraid but still shocked at the situation. “Eventually, you’ll come to fulfill every desire needed and will provide those above with your full and undivided attention.”

Aftab left the room immediately after, the sound of the door locking shut affirming my place and the situation I was in. Not knowing what else to do, I decided to use the toilet. I took my 6-inch softie out assuming Aftab had already seen everything I had to offer. After a quick piss, I hopped back into the bed and tried to start devising a plan. I didn’t have a large body, or a modest body at that, but I was at least lean. I could be fast too, and with the rush of adrenaline and a solid hit to the groin, I could probably distract him long enough to push my way out the open door. The timing would be rough, but I probably had hours to craft up a decent plan. I didn’t know when Aftab would come back, or even a meal for that matter, but at-

— —

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the sore, aching feeling in my dick. It felt like it had been overused, lying there tired and dormant. I pulled up the sheets and my attire to look at my co*ck, but it wasn’t covered in the cum I had been expecting. It just lay there limp. My balls underneath looked a little lifeless too, but there was none of the cold-hard evidence that I was looking for to prove I had ejacul*ted. Not only was my pouch sore however, but my ears too. The canals stung in the way they do when you leave a pair of headphones in for too long.

Sighing, I got out of the bed and made my way to the mirror, looking over myself. I didn’t look as dehydrated or starved as I thought I would. In fact, I looked perfectly fine. Fine, blond hair still straight and hanging in curtain bangs. My face still holding a little baby fat with my blue eyes making me appear even more youthful. My arms and legs unscathed, my torso untouched. Still the average, hairless, young man I was used to. I didn’t know what Aftab’s plans were for me, or why my groin felt fatigued, but at least I was still me.

As soon as I sat back down on the bed, the door opened to the room to reveal Aftab. I hadn’t had time to create a plan of attack, so I just sat there motionlessly as he came over to the bed and sat next to me. I noticed the funk he gave off right away, the odor floating off of him freely. He was wearing the same articles of clothing as before, but by the smell I assumed he’d be wearing them for a while.

“Strip,” he ordered. I didn’t want to obey, but before I knew it I was already standing before him and bare naked. I wasn’t afraid however, I was just existing. Something in the back of my head rationalized that this was all ok.

Then, Aftab silently grabbed my shoulder and pushed me down. I resisted a little, but Aftab simply applied more force in response. Before I knew it, I was kneeling before him, looking up at him as he pulled back his tunic to reveal exactly what I was afraid of. I don’t know how I hadn’t noticed the hard, pulsing, massive brown co*ck that had been hiding underneath the tunic. It seemed inhuman, impossible for a dick to be that big. It had to be at least 10 inches and was as thick as a can of beer. The forest of curly, black pubes and the heavy sack made it look even more intimidating, which I didn’t think was possible.

But once his co*ck was revealed, we simply sat there in silence. I maintained eye contact with him but neither of us made a noise. After a minute of what seemed like a challenge to see who’d blink first, he pulled down his tunic and left. He had been expressionless, leaving no hint or indication of what he was planning.

Not knowing what else to do, I slowly got up. But I was shocked to find my dick erect and precumming. Apparently, the feeling of being spent had not been accurate. Now, at its full 8-inch glory, my penis was pulsating and pointing straight out at a 90-degree angle. I don’t know what had turned me on, let alone got me this hard. I hadn’t been thinking of my ex, or any woman for that matter. I’d only been thinking of Aftab. My dick replied with a slight twitch at the thought of him again.

I rolled my eyes and jumped back into the bed, after putting that white dress-thing back on. I simply ignored my boner and hoped it would go away, thinking I was only turned on because I had no other form of stimulation. Instead, I tried to focus on planning how to escape. My first idea was to-

— —

Again, my co*ck was exhausted when I woke up. It felt drained, but I couldn’t tell if it was. When I did my routine checkup underneath the tunic, it appeared to be unscathed. All 4 inches left alone. The area around my crotch was looking a little shaded though. Usually, I didn’t have to shave that often, but I guess I had been here long enough that the pubes had had time to grow. Giving my nuts a good itch, I got out of the bed and took a hearty piss. Then I made my way to the mirror and did what was unfortunately becoming a habit.

It was still the same old me looking back. Wavy, sandy hair that flowed lightly with my breathing. The buttonish nose that gave me a little youth to contrast my appearing jawline. Some toned features across my ligaments to show I had at least seen a gym once or twice in the past month. But still nothing seemed wrong. I shrugged and plopped myself back onto the bed, my feet getting near the end of the mattress as I laid back.

Aftab came in not too long later, shutting the door behind him so quietly I somehow did not hear him until he commanded me to sit up. I complied immediately without a thought, watching as he stepped over to the bed like before. I wanted to move, but something told me not to. I just simply sat and watched as he placed his butt between my legs, sitting across from me at the other end of the bed.

Without hesitation, Aftab lifted a foot up to my face. The bronzed toes gently glided their way up into my view, one entire, giant foot covering my entire face. It levitated just a few inches away from my face, reeking of a foot funk that captured essences of allspice, coriander, and cumin. My eyes followed as he wiggled his toes in front of me. Just like before, we sat in this position for a while; his foot in my face, me taking it all in. After a bit, he lowered it, revealing to me his face again. That face that lacked any clue as to what was happening. He then scooted himself off the bed and was gone.

Noticing the similarities of this interaction with the last, I realized he was starting to establish some form of a conditioning pattern. Aftab was creating a sort of cause-and-effect relationship between himself and me, although I could not yet put together what it was. Looking down to confirm my theory, I was once again confronted with my co*ck rock hard. The 6-inches were begging for release. Unlike last time however, I was going to use this to my advantage. I was bored and he’d already seen me naked. So what was the harm in a little-

— —

This time when I woke up, I didn’t even bother checking myself. I now knew that my sleep schedules weren’t natural–they were being enforced. What I couldn’t figure out was how, or why it affected how my pouch felt. My ears still rang a little bit too, so I was going to have to find a way to figure out what Aftab was doing to me before it was too late. I would probably have to figure out what “too late” meant first though.

Although I wasn’t interested in investigating my nether regions this time around, I was still curious about looking in the mirror. It was annoying that the mirror wasn’t on the wall facing my bed, because then I would’ve just been able to wake up and look without moving. However, these little check-ups accounted for half of the exercise I’d been getting recently, with the other portion revolving around the toilet. But even with the lack of physical activity, I still looked in shape. My body definitely had some definition to it, which was surprising considering how long I’d been in here. I still had no concept of time, but I was surprised to still be able to see little divots and valleys that weren’t caused by some form of starvation.

Otherwise, everything else was up to code. I ran a head through my bouncy, brown hair with a grin–glad it wasn’t shaved off like I’d been taught about kidnapping through Hollywood. My skin had a healthy glow that almost made it look tannish. Even my gray eyes had a sparkle in them. For some reason, I was looking pretty good. And stranger yet, I was feeling pretty good too. Sure, I was kidnapped, but I was apparently being treated well here. I’d have to thank Aftab for that.

As if on cue, my host opened the door and I immediately scurried back to my bed. Unlike the previous times however, I felt little fear in the situation. I was overcome instead with a sense of…wonder? It was peculiar; I was both amused at the situation and what he had come to do next. I now desired to understand more just how he was conditioning me and what he was getting to. I wished to know why Aftab did it.

He joined me on my bed and motioned for me to sit across from him, our legs crossed and knees almost touching. He spoke again in that tone I realized was rather rich and smooth. Aftab was easy to listen to. His tone filled my ears and swam around like a thick chocolate sauce. I had found his voice a little dull and too abrasive at first, but the more he talked, the more I enjoyed his input. He had me answer a lot of questions regarding where I was from, what I’d done in school, what my parents did to get them so wealthy, their credit card tracking numbers and history, my social security and domestic residence information, my knowledge of brainwashing into forced servitude, and other such things to familiarize himself with me.

Eventually, I had stopped answering his questions open-endedly, instead replying with a simple “yes” or “no.” Every time I responded to what Aftab deemed as correct, he sprinkled in the occasional “Good boy.” At first I didn’t know what to think of that statement, but as I continued to answer his questions, I found my cheeks flushing and my heart beat a little faster. A light-headed, distant feeling settled over me as we went on, until the conversation suddenly stopped when I accidentally muttered something new.

“Yes Sir.”

It had almost come out as more of a slurred one word than an actual address. But Aftab had heard it. With a nod, he leaned over and gave my pouch a quick, painfully-firm squeeze and then left. I dropped my head and saw what I had feared I would. Groaning, I surrendered to the comforts of the bed and decided I was going to deal with these blue balls. Grabbing my-

— —

I laid in bed staring at the ceiling, confused as to what kept knocking me out. Although I could never exactly remember what had happened in the few minutes leading up to before I fell asleep, there was no logical way I could have kept naturally succumbing to some sort of slumber. I hadn’t eaten anything, drank anything, and barely had any form of physical activity. Every time before I’d close my eyes, I remember having a hard-on stronger than ever before. My barely average 4 inches had never been so vigorously rocklike for any of my past girlfriends or boyfriends. Yet for some reason, every time I woke up I felt depleted.

I didn’t even bother with the mirror this time around; noticing the 6’ athletic body out of the corner of my eye was enough. Instead I pounded on the door and opened my mouth to shout Aftab’s name. He’d asked me so many questions that I had willfully answered for him, so I hoped he’d maybe be willing to answer some from me. But when I tried to call out his name, no noise came out. It was like my throat literally did not know how to create the vowels and constants in his name. I could still speak, and I could still think of the name “Aftab,” yet the two processes could not interrelate.

It took me some time to consider what to do, but I didn’t dwell too much on the topic of why I couldn’t say his name. I assumed it had to do with my mental fragility after being locked up for who knows how long. I did not know what else to call him except what I had said earlier.

“Sir?”

Almost instantly, the door opened to reveal the man himself. With both of us standing about eye to eye, we just stared at each other like every time we had before. His right hand slowly reached forward and started cupping my pouch, fondling my dick and balls expertly. I don’t know how I hadn’t noticed it before, but Aftab was actually quite attractive. He was strong, confident, and relatively good-looking. Sure, the whole dominant-kidnapping act wasn’t really my thing, but I was a switch for a good reason.

“You’re coming along nicely,” he said suddenly. I opened my lips to say something, anything, but he immediately backhanded me in response with his other hand. I staggered and almost fell over, but his grip on my erect dick was sturdy enough to keep me upright.

“You do not speak,” he commanded. “You shall only thank me for the attention I give you and obey.”

Tears welled in my eyes, but for some reason it wasn’t due to the pain I felt burning in my cheek or the embarrassment of the entire situation. It was because I felt bad, horrible even, for making Aftab angry with me.

“Now, you may respond with what feels right.”

He tugged at my dick as I contemplated my reply. I didn’t consciously know what he meant by “feels right,” but apparently my subconscious did.

“Yes, Master.”

And after another “good boy,” Aftab was gone. This game of cat and mouse was getting more and more cryptic, but I was determined to solve it. Carefully ignoring my throbbing co*ck, I crawled into my bed and underneath the sheets. Then, I decided to put on a little show. Maybe if I fell asleep first, Aftab wouldn’t knock me out. I quietly tossed and turned, pretending to make myself comfortable as I fluttered my eyelids. I even slowed my breathing, hoping I would get to stay awake through my hypothesized conditioning process. Eventually, I went still and just simply flowed air into and throughout my body. I laid there and waited, hoping he wasn’t as intelligent as I thought he was.

It wasn’t long before I began to hear something underneath my bed move. It was a mechanical sound, soft whirs of gears clicking and something extending outwards from the far end of the bed. I felt the cold tingle of metal tickle past my feet, which were hanging over the end of the mattress. My ankles were cuffed into place before the machine crawled its way up further, eventually reaching underneath my tunic. I felt a surreal sense of release as the pump was fitted around my co*ck, affirming the frequent feelings of depletion I had been experiencing.

Slowly, the pump began to move on its own, fulfilling its namesake. I tried not to squirm too much, trying to still give the illusion that I had fallen asleep. But I luckily didn’t have to focus on the machine around my dick for too long. Moments later, two little rods enter my ears, completely blocking out any other sound in the room. They felt like they were so far into my canals that they could have poked my brain–if that was possible.

Aftab’s voice came next. That velvety accent that caramelized his words flowed throughout my skull, softly bouncing off of every square millimeter of open space. I didn’t understand anything that was being said, but by the clicks and foreign phonics I could tell that it was Arabic. Each individual sound coaxed me, releasing any sort of tension I felt as I sunk into the bed. The pump worked away diligently but otherwise the rest of my body was serene. I didn’t even notice when I fell asleep.

— —

I nearly leaped out of my bed with excitement, my entire body brimming with energy. The 5.5 centimeters down below were still the limp self I had grown accustomed to, but I could feel something new underneath my white thobe. I pulled up the bottom of the traditional dress to reveal a small metal device holding my brown co*ck, the pubes a little curly around it. Looking at the cold steel caused me to smile, knowing it was better for a person of my status to be caged rather than getting hard at free will.

Noticing the keffiyeh placed delicately at the foot of my bed, I grabbed the headdress and made my way to the mirror. I took careful precision in adjusting the red-and-white scarf over my curly black locks, noticing how when they were hidden underneath it, my bronzed skin and prominent beard were able to stick out more. I then inspected myself to make sure nothing else was out of place. I wanted to look presentable when my Master arrived.

He came not too long after, tilting his own head up to view the top of my keffiyehuntil eventually scanning all the way down to my Size 13 feet. He caressed his hands along every curvature of my body, as if looking for any imperfections on the meat he was due to sell on the market. After a firm nod, he beckoned me to follow him through the door.

Amazed, I proceeded behind him and entered a kitchen and dining room area. He ordered me to take a spot at the table where an older man was already seated. The older man had a grin across his face as he inspected me while I took my place at the table.

“I just finished with it last night,” my Master began in Arabic. “Everything is as you personally selected.”

He handed the man a piece of paper; the printed receipt with details pertaining to my features.

“188 centimeters, body-mass index of 16.5, motor-functioning intellect of 80…” the older male rattled off each of the numbers, reexamining me quickly with each new piece of information.

“Your Arabification process is remarkable,” he responded. “I’ve never seen any of them turn out this well.

My Master said something in English to prove a point, and the old man turned his head in my direction before nodding with approval.

“And his personal assets?”

“After tomorrow will be in your custody.” My Master decided to annunciate his work a little further.“He was worth a lot, so I hope you don’t mind that I took some as a tip of sorts.”

“Not at all.” The older man let his eyes drift towards the area I was hoping he’d lead himself to. “How did you get him below 8 centimeters.” He was genuinely curious.

“A salesman never spills his secret.” Although I could not make eye contact with my Master, I could tell he was proud of his results.

“And he’s been tailored to all my needs as well, correct?” the older man pushed.

“Tested them all myself,” my Master replied. “This was certainly one of my more challenging projects, but with greater challenges comes greater rewards.”

“And the watch?”

I looked down at my left wrist. I had somehow never noticed the golden armband that had been wrapped around my brown forearm.

“A tracking device, just as a standard precaution.” My Master got up from his seat. “Although in my years of working in this business, it has yet to be a problem.” My Master then nodded his head and offered the older male some space for my new guardian to get acquainted with me. Once the other man left, it was just me and the older male.

“Let’s see if you are truly going to be just what I need.” The older man pulled up his tunic to reveal an engorged, 8-inch brown monster, a mess of wiry black pubes surrounding it. Instantly, my mouth watered as my eyes zeroed in on سيدي: my new Master.