A SLAVE'S LIFE, Part 9
By Pete Brown petebrownuk @ yahoo.com
Read all of Pete's stories at groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories
The work never stopped, of course, and, as the veterinarian had predicted, after about a week I was able to "lightly wank" again - what a relief that was, as by then my balls were screaming for relief, I spent almost the entire time completely erect, and streams of pre-cum were constantly leaking from me. All this time Craig continued to fuck me, and he reckoned that if he spent enough time massaging my ass and caressing my prostate, he could make me cum spontaneously without needing to wank me - but, in spite of a lot of truly thrilling sensations as he worked away, it didn't happen.
When I was ready to wank, and after I'd found that there was no bleeding from where my circumcision scar had healed, it was such a pleasure. I wanted to wank myself, as I still think that it's only you who really knows how best to do this, but Craig insisted that he should be the first - "it will be like taking your virginity all over again", he laughed.
It felt odd at first to be walking around with my cock head exposed, and, honestly, wanking without a foreskin just isn't as good: there's no natural lubrication, and you lose that delicious feeling of your foreskin sliding on and off your cock head. But there are some compensations - I didn't have to 'skin back in the showers in the evening to get really clean, and there wasn't the worry, when one of the guys was sucking me, that I might not be as "fresh" as I might be because of any build up of smeg.
After a couple of days of this, the next night when Craig was about to wank me to get the lube he liked before fucking me, I stayed his hand.
"No - my turn!", I told him.
"Hey, Jon, you know I always 'top'. I don't take it up the ass, mate."
"Craig, I told you I didn't take it up the ass, either ,that first night. But I did. So now it's my turn - after waiting all these years for proper sex, I really want to try everything. And if you're not going to let me fuck you, I'd better find one of the other guys - most of them seem to want a 'top', as I understand it...."
Craig looked genuinely shocked, as he wasn't used to me taking the lead in things like this. But at the same time he knew I was right - before he'd started fucking me regularly he had generally "polled around" all the other guys, fucking each one in turn. They all missed Craig's attentions as he was so focused on me, and he knew that if I offered to fuck any one of them, they would at least let me try. So, rather reluctantly, he kind of shrugged his shoulders, and I hugged him, then got to work wanking him.
I'd enjoyed fucking young Stu, but with Craig it was different. For one thing, Stu had wanted me to fuck him, and, as you'll remember, he'd basically forced himself on me the first time we'd met. Craig didn't want to be fucked, and was a very experienced fucker himself - inside, I was dreadfully worried that I'd "do something wrong", and that Craig would correct me or, even worse, start to laugh at my inexperience and ineptitude. But I did all the preliminaries properly, even getting a little grunt of surprise form Craig as I hit his prostate as I loosened him up, and then I was ready to go into him.
It was easy! There's clearly something in the human brain that knows what a cock needs to do to an ass, as the moment I slid my cock between Craig's ass cheeks and my bare cock head touched his pucker, it all happened as if I was on autopilot! I pushed myself in, then very slowly and gently inserted the full length of my cock (or, rather, as much of it as I could before my cinched balls stopped me) into him, and rocked backwards and forwards to give him a completely sensuous experience.
Whilst all that was enjoyable, I soon found that the real pleasure for a top is to be got from good, honest, solid, hard fucking, and I revelled in the feelings that flooded into me from my cock as I rammed in and out of Craig as hard as I could. At first he just grunted under my battering, but soon he was panting and shouting in time to my thrusting - and this all made it better for me! To have a man impaled on my cock, completely powerless to stop me fucking him, was fantastic. It wasn't just the physical sensations that amazed me, but the way in which I was controlling another body, dominating another human being in the way that a top man was intended to.
I wanted it to go on for ever, but of course the inevitable happened and I felt my balls spasming and shooting my cum deep up inside him. Even after the 'skinning, my cock was (and remains!) incredibly sensitive after I've cum, and much as I wanted to carry on thrusting, there was just no way that I could. It doesn't exactly hurt, indeed, it's more like an exquisitely refined form of sexual titillation, but I just can't make myself keep on going: the pain and the pleasure are just too great.
So instead I fell forward onto Craig, and just lay there, feeling his heart beating through his chest and enjoying the slickness of our sweat-soaked bodies as they slid over each other.
"You bastard, Jon!"
I was so surprised, I thought I must have misheard. "Hey, what's the problem? I thought that was pretty good. It was great for me! And I spent a long time relaxing you first, so you'd enjoy it, too."
"Yes, that was OK But once you got started, you completely lost control, didn't you? You were almost like a wild animal, completely oblivious to how I felt about it. I was crying out when you slammed into me so hard so repeatedly, but you didn't even care....."
"Oh come on, Craig, it wasn't that bad! Sure I fucked you hard - what do you expect? That's what tops do, you know. And you fucked me pretty hard most of the time too, and I don't complain."
I guess we could have had a real argument about this, but I kind of backed off, even though I knew I was right. I lowered my voice - always a good thing when you want to appear to show you're giving something away - and whispered "You're right. I'm sorry. But it was my first time with a real man, as you know. When I fucked Stu last week I had to be so very gentle with him as he's such a young guy - but when I felt your fantastic hard ass, something just came over me. You're so fantastically desirable..... I just wanted to possess you... And I guess I lost control. Look, I'm sorry mate... I really like you, and I wouldn't want to do anything to upset you..."
It was all bullshit, of course. Yes, something took control over me - my desire to utterly dominate and control the body I was fucking! Craig seemed mollified however and almost smiled.
"Don't worry, Jon, you'll learn. That was OK for a first time, but when you get more experienced you'll be able to take it more gently, and really give satisfaction to the guy you're fucking."
"So I'm forgiven?" Although I said this gently, inside I didn't care at all. All that crap he was talking about giving satisfaction to the guy I was fucking - I felt differently about it. I knew that the most important thing for a guy to do was to satisfy himself: if he pleasured the guy he was fucking at the same time, that was OK, but it wasn't the objective of the whole thing! I'd spent my whole life so far trying to please other people - my parents, the school, my team mates, and, of course, the women I was fucking. Now, for the first time ever, I'd discovered how important it was to me to ensure that it was me who was satisfied, that it was me who got what he wanted, and that it was me who was in control and ran things. So I didn't intend to learn more - I already knew what to do, and how to do it.
Craig gave a little sigh - contentment, or resignation? I didn't know, or care all that much, except that he shut up - and wrapped his arms around me. "You'll learn, Jon - that was OK for a first time, but you'll learn."
I could have shaken him, and told him it wasn't just OK, it was fucking fantastic! But what was the point?
I wanted to go up his ass again, so there was no point in unnecessarily antagonising him. And, actually, I really liked Craig. He'd been good and kind to me, better than any mate I'd ever had before: even after a couple of weeks I felt closer to Craig that I did to any of the guys in my Club, some of whom I'd grown up with.
We went to sleep wrapped closely together, but I was restless all night - it was as if my body, having learned something new and amazing, wanted to repeat the experience.
The whole of the next week was tough. We carried on at the work of building the foundations for the new structure on the estate, but my mind, not really engaged in it anyway, was even further away - all I could think about as we toiled away was how to get my cock the satisfaction it needed. It was easy, of course - all I had to do was position myself next to one of the other guys in my group at night, then start to fuck him - most of them just wanted to experience cock up the ass, as I've told you. But there was Craig to worry about - he wanted to fuck me, didn't want me to fuck him again, and he really didn't like me abandoning him for the other guys. So I had a difficult balancing act to perform - how to give myself the satisfaction I deserved, whilst not totally pissing off Craig! All this thought and worry had one good consequence, though - I almost completely forgot the backbreaking toil and grind we were all engaged in every day.
From the time we marched out of our pen in the morning I could almost completely turn off from the real world and let my fantasies just run wild: the Overseer may have thought I was concentrating on shovelling the aggregate, or mixing the cement, and, at one level, I was. But the real me, the thinking part of my brain, was obsessed with sex: which ass was I going to conquer tonight? How was I going to pacify Craig? How had that ass been the last time I'd fucked it, and what was I going to try next? I was completely enthralled by sex, in a way that I'd never been before - sure, I'd plotted and schemed to get my hands on some girl's tits, or down her knickers, but now I had grander schemes afoot. I didn't only want to fuck all the guys in my group, but I wanted to totally dominate and control them. They didn't just have to lie there and let me take my pleasure - I wanted them to know that it was me fucking them, that it was me who was forcing his man seed up into their bodies, that it was me who was in total charge and control of them as they lay helplessly under my thrusting cock.
To tell you the truth, life as a slave wasn't turning out to be a bad thing for me - of course it was backbreakingly hard. Of course it was utterly humiliating to be cinched and made to work totally naked. Of course I had no "freedom" in the conventional sense. Of course it was mind-numbing and I had no chance to use my intellectual powers. But at another level I was free - free of the constraints that had kept me at an office desk, and had made me take my pleasure by indulging in team sports where I had some male companionship, free of the need to be "nice" in order to try to attract and keep girl friends, free of the constraints that society imposes on men that keep them from realising their full potential as sexual beings. Now I could utilise my cock to its full power, to dominate and control other men and to give me the pleasure I deserved.
I'd almost come around to the view that slavery was not a bad thing, as it allowed some men to realise their full potential, until the visit of a group of the owner's friends caused me to re-think a little.
Even though we'd not quite finished the work on the foundations of the new structure, one morning our Overseer didn't lead us on the run out there - instead, we turned towards the main building complex, in front of which was a large ornamental garden.
"You slaves are going to did this land over thoroughly today", he told us. "It's to be dug to a depth of two spades, and all - and I mean all - the stones are to be removed. As this work is so close to the main house, and as the owner has a number of guests this weekend who are nervous of slaves, you will have an additional security measure - you will be held together as a group at all times."
The other guys kind of groaned under their breaths, as they must have experienced this before. I didn't know what he meant, though, until we were ordered to form up in a line to work our way across the ground, then a steel cable was run through our snout rings!
Have you ever tried to work - really work, at hard manual labour - when you're constrained not to move more than a couple of feet form your colleagues? The wire running through our snout rings meant that we had to keep together, had to move uniformly across the work area, had to move up and down in the same uniform way, and we had absolutely no freedom of movement at all. It wasn't so much that it hurt, it was the total inconvenience of the thing - we were expected to work really hard, with this constraint that prevented us from using our bodies with the total freedom we usually enjoyed. And, of course, if working naked, with a cinch ring isn't humiliating enough, try being part of a gang of eight men who are effectively roped together by their noses!
I learned later that digging over this particular part of ground was a regular activity - every time the owner had a big "house party", the existing content of that part of the garden was thrown away and we were scheduled to dig it over for the amusement of the guests. They gathered on the terrace - a cool, shaded terrace hung all over with lush green vines - and watched as we toiled away under the burning sun. We could hear their chatter faintly, and the tinkle of ice in their glasses, as they amused themselves whilst we toiled away.
Occasionally, a small group of guests would leave the shelter of the patio and come over to observe us more closely. The men - and women - seemed fascinated by the sight of our naked bodies, and particularly by the way in which our cinch rings made us always on display so prominently. On the second day of the first such visit I experienced, one of the guests came over and said something to our Overseer. He at once gave us the command to stop work, and to stand there in a line, with our hands clasped behind our necks.
The guests who had asked for this then came along and "inspected" us - running their hands over our sweaty bodies, feeling our tits and our asses, and, occasionally, cupping our balls to feel the weight of our manhood. One woman in particular on this visit spent a long time touching our cocks - at first, gingerly, and then with more and more confidence as she moved along the row of us.
She whispered something to her male companion, who in turn spoke to the Overseer, who replied - we couldn't hear what was said.
This was a new form of humiliation for me - somehow it wasn't so bad when the only people who saw you were other slaves, the Overseers, and the owner. But having a big group of guests - mixed men and women - watching your naked body as it toiled away, was something different. We were so used to seeing everyone outside naked, except for the overseers, that having clothed people around somehow emphasised the differences between us and them, and it brought back memories of "ordinary life", the life I'd been snatched from.
That night, as we crapped and then showered, the guards came along and selected one of us - Rob - and marched him off. Once we were in our pen there was the usual buzz of interest and conversation, and I hear several of the guys saying how lucky they were that they weren't Rob.
As I lay in Craig's arms I asked him why Rob had been taken, and he said "Well, I don't know - but whatever it is, the poor guy will be suffering now! Those guests who singled him out earlier will be enjoying the spectacle of seeing Rob whipped; or perhaps they've decided to have him fuck some of the dinner waiters to amuse them; or he might have been put to stud, as an after-dinner entertainment...."
"Put to stud?"
"Well, you know, the owner does breed slaves. Normally the sire is one of the guys kept for that purpose - he has a number of big, blond Scandinavians kept for just that, as the owner wants to introduce paler shades into his herd. But as an entertainment, any one of us can be taken and made to fuck one of the brood mares to amuse the dinner guests as they drink their coffee and sip their liqueurs...."
God! Was there no end to what we had to suffer as slaves? Of course I had no objection to fucking women, as I'd done it many times before (or had had no objection - I now really didn't know what I felt). But fucking them as an entertainment - that was something else. And I didn't like the idea of being bred from, either - at one point in my life I suppose I'd had a vague idea that having kids was the right thing to do - all my mates were doing it, after all - but being deliberately bred from so that my kids could grow up as slaves?.... Well, I was actually shocked by the idea.
Anyway, there was nothing we could do about it, and we all just went about sucking ,wanking and fucking as usual.
The next morning Rob was brought back to be added to the line of us as we toiled away - they had to stop us all from working for a few minutes, as the line running through our snout rings was released so that Rob could be added. I saw that he looked a bit dejected, but it wasn't until the midday break, when I saw him turn around, that I saw that he'd clearly been through some sort of experience the night before. Running all across his back - from his shoulders, down onto his naked ass, were huge stripes and welts, turning into scars. They weren't whip lash marks, as they were in a pattern that I recognised: I'd once had a girl friend who absolutely refused to cut her nails properly, and she actually filed them down into points. My mates at the Club all laughed at me when I turned up one day for a match with huge finger nail marks all down my back - in her passion, as I'd fucked her, she'd clawed at my back with her talons, and the marks were still showing twenty four hour later.
Rob was suffering from the same thing - but infinitely worse. These weren't just scratch marks from a passionate woman in rut, as a muscular stud fucked her: it looked more as if the purpose of the sex act had been to leave talon marks all over the body of the unfortunate guy. We clustered around Rob, and he told us what had happened.
"They really cleaned me up", he said. Not only did I have to shower, but I was locked in a sauna for almost an hour - man, did I sweat! But the guards said it was to make sure there was no ingrained dirt in me, as I was going to be with a lady that night. Well, I used to like fucking women, so I was looking forward to it - until I learned what I had to do."
Rob halted for a moment, and we urged him on. "It turns out that it was that woman who inspected us, in her late forties - and I'd never fucked an old woman before. I didn't think I could make it, couldn't get it up and keep it up. The guards were all laughing about how a young stud like me was going to have to perform, and they advised me to be careful - there had been a case only recently where a slave had displeased a woman guest of the owner and she had asked the owner to give him a suitable punishment - and it had been decided that as the slave didn't want to fuck, he didn't need his balls! They castrated him the next day, and the owner gave him away as a 'pet' to the woman afterwards. I didn't want that to happen to me, and I was shit scared."
"The veterinarian came to inspect me next, to make sure I was 'clean' and had no unsightly scars or anything - he was most concerned about the possibility of wanking scars on my cock, of course. He noticed I was trembling, and asked me what was wrong, and I told him. He was a good guy, told me not to worry, and gave me a huge shot of viagra so that I almost immediately went hard, and stayed that way. At least, then, I could go through the motions, I thought. However it turned out that the real purpose of his visit was to fit me with a 'contraceptive'..... The woman only liked to be fucked with a raw cock, but didn't want to risk any of my semen getting into her. The veterinarian therefore fitted me with a device he'd invented himself for just this circumstance - a little piece of plastic, that looked just like a tiny mushroom. The 'stalk' went into my piss slit - only about half an inch, just enough to hold it steady, but enough to make me squirm as the vet pushed it in - and the cap covered about half my cock head."
We were all listening really intently now, and most of us were erect at the thought of having something pushed down our cocks. "The worst thing, though", Rob went on, "Was that after he'd fitted it and found the right size as there were several of the little mushrooms, for different sized cocks, he told me to piss. Well, I didn't need to, but he told me I had to as once the thing was fitted, it wouldn't be possible until it was removed. So I forced myself to piss, and then he came back for the 'final fitting'. He used superglue on the underside of the cap to 'cement' the mushroom onto my cock! You know how careful you have to be with superglue as you can actually stick your fingers together when you're using it - well, now the plastic of the mushroom cap was bonded to the head of my cock. He told me to touch it and feel it, and I saw the cleverness of it - the bit of your cock that the woman feels as it slides into her was completely untouched, as the mushroom was only over about half my cock head. And, with it stuck on, there was no way anything could come out of my piss slit."
"The vet told me I had to be careful not to cum, but he thought that judging from my previous conversation that wouldn't be a problem for me - I'd remain rock hard, but as I wasn't sexually excited, there would be no need for me to shoot. And that's it, really."
"Oh go on, tell us what it was like...", one of the other guys said, and so, rather reluctantly, perhaps, Rob continued "Well, it's completely humiliating, of course, to be taken naked by a guard to a bedroom door, and then pushed in. She was lying on the bed wearing some sort of filmy nightwear, and first of all I had to go and stand by her so she could inspect my balls again, and feel my cock. She showed me one of the prods like the guards have, lying on the bedside table, and told me she wouldn't hesitate to use it on me if I didn't perform properly. Then I had to go down on her and lick and suck her to rouse her."
Poor Rob was in difficulty now. "Well, I used to like doing that to my girl friends, but to an old cunt, it was disgusting. And she didn't let me stop at all - I had to go on and on, and then fondle her disgusting sagging breasts and so on. And when she finally told me to mount her, she said she expected to be pleasured for a very long time - and it was a long time, I can assure you: I haven't worked so hard for ages. It was just as well that the vet had given me the shot as there's no way I could have kept an erection for all the time I had to fuck her."
"The worst thing, though, was the way she reacted to me - she was just like a wild animal under me, thrashing around and clawing at me to pull me down onto her and 'encourage' me. When I started I didn't think I'd have a problem with cum, but actually even when you are completely turned off by the woman, enough stimulation of your cock by a cunt does have the effect you'd expect - I felt my balls straining, and realised I was on the edge of shooting. I was terrified - you guys all know that I shoot really big loads, and I didn't know what would happen when all that hot cum raced up my cock and found the exit blocked: would my balls explode, or something?"
"So I had to stop, and pulled out of her. She was incandescent with rage, and prodded me so that I writhed around on the floor a bit - well, at least that took away any immediate desire I had to shoot. But then she ordered me 'back to work', and threatened an even more severe prodding if I dared stop again. She had no interest in me at all, and was really only using me as a living, warm, dildo - she didn't care what happened to me, didn't care that I might be hurt by shooting: she was only interested in her own pleasure."
"The next hour was a nightmare. I didn't dare stop thrusting, so had to do everything I could to stop myself cumming. I varied the pace and stroke, stopped completely sometimes but only so that she could see that I was giving full attention to playing with her breasts, and even tried to kiss her. I say 'tried' as she wanted my mouth, but I found the taste of lipstick and the smell of her makeup almost made me retch. But, thankfully, I did manage to stop myself from shooting."
"I was almost at the end of my strength when I was rescued by a phone call - her husband or lover or something was on the line, and she told me to stop fucking her so she could speak to him, although she wanted me to tongue her as she lay there having this incredibly long conversation about what they were going to do when they were next in bed together. I got really worried when she started talking about taking a slave and making a threesome, as I thought she might have me in mind. But, fortunately, when she put the phone down she dismissed me - perhaps the sexy conversation with her man had put her mind to other things."
"What happened next?", we asked.
"Well, nothing much. There was a knock on the door, and she told me to get out - the guard was in the corridor, waiting for me. She never even said 'thank you' or anything - to her, I was just an object that she'd used. I think the guards felt a bit sorry for me as they allowed me to shower and get the awful smell of her off my body. And then I went to the vet's so that he could remove the 'mushroom'."
"There's no easy way", Rob continued. "He told me it was going to hurt, and it did! Basically he had a little tool that gripped the edges of the plastic, then he just pulled it out with a quick jerk. I screamed, I can tell you, as the glue was bonded to my skin and it tore away the top layer - look...."
Rob showed us the end of his cock, and there was a small circle that was all red and inflamed, centred on his piss slit. We all of us had our hands on our cocks now - the thought of having the skin on top of your cock head torn away was making us wince!
"The vet laughed and said all the guys used as toys hated that part of it, but that I'd only be sore for a day or two, and he smeared a bit of antiseptic cream on it. He was more concerned about my back, with all these marks from her fucking fingernails - he cleaned all the wounds, but he was worried that some of them might be so deep that there would be scarring, and that means I'd be out of here as the owner won't have 'blemished' slaves in a gang like this that's designed for display as well as for labour. I had to jerk off, too, as he said he wanted to make sure that there were no bits of glue residue in my urethra, although I think that was just an excuse: When I started to wank myself , he stopped me and he brought me to climax."
We all felt so sorry for Rob, to be used in that way. Somehow it seemed to be much crueller, much more of an infringement of our dignity than any of the other things we had to do routinely. I didn't think there was any way that a slave could be more humiliated than by being used as a living dildo. But, of course, I was later to be proved wrong.
End Of Part 9