This is a work of fiction. The characters are invented. It is intended solely for the fantasy entertainment of persons, age 18 or older, who want to read about gay sex and male slavery. If you are not at least 18 years old and/or this is not what you want, read no further.
Copyright reserved by the author. JKBlackhouse
Brothers & Slaves: Characters so far:
Danny 17, currently the narrator, high school junior, on soccer & track teams; Ken 18, Danny's older brother, athletic body, high school senior, plays football, baseball & wrestles; Gary 15, Danny's younger brother, young stud, high school freshman; Tuck 17, boyhood best friend of Danny and Don, soccer & track; Don 17, boyhood best friend of Danny and Tuck, backup quarterback. Joey, 16, teammate of Danny and leader of team's turning him into their shaved cocksucker; Tim, 17, personal house slave of Ken, Danny and Gary. Mr. Howard, owner, a private slave training facility
Chapt's 1-8: Danny has been made a "slave" in practice though not in law by his older and younger brothers, with the help of Danny's teammates. His pubes, genitals, crack, arms and legs have been shaved and he is forced to give his brothers blowjobs on command and to accept their fucking him. He is required by them to be naked in the large bedroom/study room the three share along with their personal slave Tim. Danny cannot escape his new found slavery because his brothers have pictures and videos of him performing all sorts of humiliating and sexual acts as if he were doing so from his own desire. If he does not obey his brothers, they have threatened to put the pics and recordings on the worldnet along with his real name. For Danny, that would mean complete disgrace and humiliation before his friends and parents. Danny's brothers have had his nipples ringed, a genital band, just like real slaves must wear, installed permanently along with a permanent titanium ball band, stretcher and separator. The boys' parents are completely unaware of what has been happening among the boys.
Chapt. 9: Four One Five
We entered a room with all sorts of gear in it and I thought I could see a tiled bathroom or shower off to one side. Mr. Howard directed Tim to take me there, clean me out and scrub me down. He gave Tim a mean looking bristle brush for the scrubbing. Now I would find out just what it was like to live for a couple of days as nothing but a common slave. No rights, no privileges, just obedience.
Tim grabbed my lead in one hand and the brush in the other and led me off to the tiled room as I crawled behind him. Life as a slave was beginning. I think I was in way over my head.
Brothers & Slaves: Chapt. 10: Learning - Danny
Tim kept the chain leash that was clipped to my collar real taut as he led me to the tiled room. Once there, he left me on all fours while he pulled a nozzle and hose from one wall. Not by chance, it was located at just about ass height if a person, well, a slave, was on its hands and knees as I was. Tim had been carrying a gag, which I hadn't noticed until now. I noticed it suddenly, as I was told to open wide and felt the latex cock, quite wide, slide into my mouth. Tim buckled and locked the strap behind my head. Here I was, a free guy, on a leash, naked, collared and gagged under the charge of a slave. Life had sure turned upside down.
Tim used his finger to lube up my ass pretty well. It was no surprise when he lubed the end of the nozzle and then inserted it gently, thank goodness, in my asshole and up into my rectum. He turned a tap and I felt the warmish water flowing into my ass. At first it felt great having my ass full but soon I was getting too full and the water went up higher and higher. My stomach began to cramp. I put my head down toward the floor and moaned, trying to communicate to Tim that I'd had enough. It had no effect. The water kept filling me until Tim of his own volition decided to turn off the tap. He said I must hold the water for least five minutes. I groaned. There was no clock I could see so how would he know when five minutes was up? I guess it would be up when he decided it was.
I wanted to lie on the tiled floor and pull up my legs like a fetus. I thought that might relieve some of the pressure in my gut. I started to kneel further down and turn on my side when I felt Tim yank on my leash. "What the fuck are you doing 415? No one said you could move." I moaned and resumed my place on hands and knees, knees that were growing to really hurt by the way. At last Tim said time was up. He position me at the central drain opening, there was no grate, and he said to squat over the hole. Then in one of the most humiliating steps so far, he just yanked the nozzle out suddenly and quickly from my ass and out came my accumulated shit and slime which I tried to ensure went right into the drain. Some spurted on my ankles and wrists which was pretty disgusting.
Once it seemed all the water was out, Tim hosed me off, especially my legs, feet and hands that I'd shat on. I was whimpering by that point. Tim ignored that and simply repeated the entire procedure three more times, ensuring the last evacuation was clear water, meaning that I was acceptably cleaned out I guess. I was next led under one of the shower nozzles. The water was cold, not at all warm, water for slave showers I supposed. Tim released my leash, telling me to freeze my position. Then he rubbed some harsh feeling disinfectant smelling soap on my back, legs and arms. Then came the awful bristle brush.
The brush was just as harsh on my skin as it looked. Tim spared nothing as far as I could tell to ensure that every area of my body then exposed was scrubbed hard with the brush, hard enough to leave it red and burning. He told me to lie down on my back and spread my arms and legs like I was spread-eagled. Once I was positioned, he used the same coarse soap and bristle brush on my sensitive front, my chest, armpits (he really scrubbed those hard and did they ever burn), stomach, legs and arms. Then, much more gently, he soaped and scrubbed my nipple areas and my dick and balls. It hurt but it felt so good having something, even a bristle brush, stoke my dick that I moaned in a combination of pleasure and pain. Same with my bound balls.
Once all this was done, I was put back on my hands and knees. No toweling off, just left to drip dry. A few minutes later, Tim led me by my leash back outdoors. The sun felt so good on my cold body. Mr. Howard was sitting on the porch, a cool drink in hand, when we arrived. Tim dropped my leash and assumed the slave present position on his knees. I followed by doing the same. No one had said what I was supposed to do, so this seemed to me to be respectful toward my weekend Master. He seemed to glare at us for some minutes.
"You boy, 415, did anyone tell you to get off your hands and knees?" I got ready to tell Master "no" when I realized I couldn't say a thing. The cock was still gagging my mouth. So I shook my head from side to side trying to convey that I realized no one had told me to change positions. "Back to your proper position, animal," Mr. Howard said. I hung my head and got back on my knees, now quite raw, and my hands.
"You, boy, Tim, were you not in charge and did you not allow this to happen?" What could poor Tim say?
"Master, yes Master, this slave was negligent in its duties, Master." His head was way bowed.
"Don't let it happen again, boy. Ten strokes."
"Master, yes, Master, thank you, Master for correcting this slave's negligence, Master."
Mr. Howard picked up a bell from the table he was sitting near, rang it, and a slave immediately appeared on the porch, kneeling in slave present position. "Charlie, get the flogger immediately."
"Master, yes Master," said Charlie and he scurried off, returning in seconds with a mean looking multi-stranded and braided flogger.
"You boy," Master said, pointing the whip head at Tim. "Go over to that tree, plant your nose, tits and cock on the trunk and assume a spread-eagled position. Tim semi-crawled, semi-walked over to the tree and positioned himself as ordered. Then nothing happened except Mr. Howard continued enjoying his drink. I could have used some of that nice cool drink myself but, no surprise, I wasn't offered any. He must have left Tim standing there contemplating what was to come for a good 10 minutes. Sadistic bastard, I thought, a thought I kept strictly to myself needless to say.
At last he grasped the flogger, walked to Tim and with no warning whatever, swung it with what seemed all his might so the flogger crossed the right side of Tim's back. "One, Master, thank you, Master" Tim shouted. The second stroke, equally hard, struck Tim's left back and ass. He screamed but immediately shouted, "Two, Master, thank you, Master." The next two strokes criss-crossed the first ones and must have stung like hell. After each, Tim counted off and expressed his thanks though by the fourth stroke he was crying.
The remaining strokes were administered to his buttocks, his thighs and then his back again. By the tenth stroke, Tim was screaming and screaming, even as he thanked Master for the last stroke. "Master, this slaves begs your pardon and thanks you for correcting its misbehavior, Master."
With that, Master allowed Tim to relax from the spread-eagle he'd maintained with no ropes or chains binding him, just Master's order to hold the position had been sufficient, even through all the pain. Tim crawled over to the porch where he kissed Master's boots and then resumed the slave present position. From the corner of my eye i could see how raw his back and ass were. I had learned something: a slave does exactly what it's told to do, nothing more and nothing less and without deviation in any way from the orders it's been given. It was a good lesson to learn right at the start. At home, things were nowhere this strict so I had no idea just what was expected of me, now I did.
"Tim, why is 415's hole unplugged?"
"Master, this slave was not told to plug the slave's ass, Master."
"Quite right, Tim, good answer. Here is a nice sized plug to start the slave on. Grease it and shove it home, and I do mean shove." I shuddered knowing what was coming. The black plug was larger than anything I'd ever had up my ass and I was scared shitless - but of course I had no more shit in me anyway. Tim walked to the porch and took the plug Mr. Howard handed him. A can of grease was located at the end side of the porch, on the ground. I could kind of see Tim scoop up some of the goop in his hands and rub it all over the plug. With this done, he walked over to where I was waiting on my hands and knees.
I felt his fingers invading my hole and spreading some of the grease inside me. I'd heard the order so I knew this would be no slow easy plug fuck, this was meant to hurt and it was going to. With one hand, I felt him pull one of my cheeks to the side. I felt the tip of the plug right at the entrance of my ass and then I felt ripped apart completely as Tim shoved the fucking monster up my relatively virgin ass. I screamed and screamed from the pain. I balled real tears. I felt Master's house slave unbuckle my gag. From somewhere within me, I don't know from where, even as every portion of my body was rebelling in agony, I shouted out, "Master, thank you, Master." I'd remembered that a slave thanks its Master for anything its given and I had just been "given" a buttplug. For this, I knew I must thank Master and so I did.
"Very good, 415, I wondered if you'd remember your slave manners. Good boy."
"Master, thank you, Master," I replied and kept my head bowed as I tried to master the pain in my expanded ass.
"Come here, boy," Master commanded. I crawled to his feet and kissed them as I'd seen Tim do. I heard the sound of a zipper and then a hairy cock and balls appeared before my face. "Lick, slave." I immediately stuck out my tongue and began licking his balls, even though they were so hairy and disgusting and then his dick.
"Open your mouth, slave." I did as commanded. I felt master's cock sliding into my mouth. For a minute or more, it seemed, it just lay on my tongue, quite soft. Then I felt the flow of piss drowning me. I started swallowing as fast as I could while trying to keep myself from retching. The piss flowed and flowed. I wondered if Master had been holding it all morning just for me to drink. With the plug fucking my ass every time I moved and the humiliation of what was happening enveloping my brain, my boy dick began to rise. Hard to believe, but I was getting a hard-on from the way Master was using me. I felt the base of my dick strain against the genital band and my balls squeeze and attempt to pull up to my cock. The pain this caused, and the flash realization that my dick and balls were locked for life in metal just turned me on more. I wondered if Master had slipped some mind altering drug into me. Whatever, I was in a pasture of mixed hog heaven
and hell. It seemed the most intense experience of my life.
Fortunately, I remembered not to release Master's cock until I was told to pull my mouth off it. "Master, thank you for allowing this slave the gift of worshipping your cock and balls, Master." Never before had I felt as I did at that moment. It's hard to describe but I felt used, like a used slave, completely slave, nothing else for that moment but slave. God it felt good but it also made me feel disgusted with myself.
Then reality kicked in. My ass was straining to hold the wide plug now lodged there and I needed to piss in the worst way. How does a slave get permission to piss when it's not allowed to speak? I did the best I could think of: "Master, this slave begs permission to ask Master a question, if it pleases, Master." I thought that was pretty diplomatic and slavey.
Master did not seem put off. "Alright, 415, what do you want to ask?"
"Master, this slaves begs Master's permission to be allowed to piss, please Master."
"That's it, slave, just that?"
"Master, yes Master, if you please, Master."
"I'm very impressed with how quickly you seemed to have learned the proper way a slave speaks to its Master. Very well, slave, you may piss."
"Master, thank you, Master." But where was I supposed to do my pissing? I was stuck.
"You didn't waste my time asking without meaning to piss, did you?"
"Master, no Master. Right here Master?"
"Now boy, that's a second question and this one you did not request permission to ask. That will be ten strokes. "
I knew the proper answer from having listened to Tim. "Master, thank you, Master." I realized I was going to have to piss right there like a dog, right in front of Master and, for that matter, Tim and the house slave.
I tried to think of water, water falls, showers, running water, anything to get my piss going. At long last there was a trickle of piss from my dick and then a sudden flood down around my knees, soaking my legs and making a mess in the dirt where I was planted. Oh god, I thought, what will be the punishment for this?
Copyright 2009 JKBlackhouse. This work may not be reproduced, except for personal use, without permission of the author. Reproduction for any other use is prohibited.
Comments, story ideas, criticisms and suggestions are most welcome. Please let me know what you think of the story. Feedback really helps keep me writing. Thanks to those who have written - and thanks for the many good ideas, some of which are now in the story or will be. email: jkblackhouse@yahoo.com