“I don’t want my fucking nuts anymore, SIR.”

Wyld knew exactly what he was asking for when I bound him up during our trip to Folsom last year. Arms strapped to his thighs, completely exposed, he begged me to destroy his nuts—and I was more than happy to give him what he wanted.

He’d been caged for over a year, but we unlocked him for this special occasion. I started slow, landing steady punches and gradually turning up the intensity. The more I gave him, the more he begged.

Then the boots came out.

I knew how much my boy loved them, so I put my big leather boots to work before reaching for my metal shoehorn and continuing his punishment. He squirmed, whined and kept asking for more.

Watching him take everything I gave him had me worked up too. By the end, Wyld had absolutely earned his reward—and maybe a short break.

I’m proud of this boy. He took one hell of a beating for me.