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 slave training facility.
Previously: 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. 10: Learning - Danny
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."
"Very well, slave, you may piss."
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?
Brothers & Slaves Chapter 11: Nothing To Do But Think - Danny
I looked down at the ground where I'd just released my piss while on my hands and knees, just like an animal, and right in front of Master. I'd made a mess plus I'd spoken out of turn and had just been told I'd receive 10 strokes as punishment. I had no idea what was going to happen. It was only Saturday afternoon and I had over 24 hours more of slave training for which my brothers, Ken and Gary, had apparently signed me up.
But here was the thing. Within the last 24 hours my brothers had caused my nipples to be pierced with rings almost exactly the same size as adorned our personal slave, Tim. Worse even, they'd had a slave's permanent, genital band installed around my cock and balls. It must be at least an inch wide and I'd live with it `till the day I died. These slave bands once in place, had no way to be removed, no way at all. More, a two inch metal ball stretcher pushed my balls to the very bottom of my sac and it too was slave grade, meant to never be removed. My balls were ringed and then spread apart so each seemed to have it's own little cubby. The balls were so squeezed that the skin covering them was all red and shiny, All these items were titanium with internal locking mechanisms and thus no key.
Now what got me, in addition to how cruel my brothers had become toward me, what got me, was that it all turned me on. My dick had been hard almost the entire ride home from the piercing parlor. I was eager to get home so I could suck their masculine cocks. While they had shaved my entire body from neck to toes, and permanently removed the hair from my balls, cock and lower pubes where the genital band was, since those places could now never be shaved, they still had hunky, hairy boy pubes and I wanted to sink my nose into that hair, sniff it, engulf their dicks in my mouth and swallow their seed. What was wrong with me?
It's true that ever since I was about 13 or 14, Ken was a year older, we played some sex games. He liked tying me up spread-eagled to my bed and then just leaving me after making sure I had a boner and that my cock and balls were all bound up with rope. Then he'd come back an hour or more later and sometimes he'd make me give him a blowjob while tied up. I couldn't be released he'd say until he'd cum. Afterward, he usually jerked me off, smearing my cum on my chest and stomach, even my armpits, all of which I mostly loved when I was in the mood and wanting to blast off. He liked ordering me to do things and I liked taking orders. That was about as far as it went.
I knew I tended to be submissive and I sure as hell knew I liked boys by the time I was 14 or 15. I wasn't sure about girls. My friends and I used to jerk eachother off occasionally, but that was about it. So mostly it was just Ken who liked bossing me around and if I wasn't in the mood, I really resented it and let him know in no uncertain way. I'd curse him, even spit at him to keep him off me. But mostly, we just had boy fun and I thought nothing more of it.
My younger brother Gary turned out to be more like Ken than like me. He enjoyed being the boss, telling both of us, but especially me, what to do. He liked setting up sex games where I was always the servant, Ken was part servant and part boss and Gary was head boss. Yeah, it was sex, but it seemed like pretty innocuous fun.
While I never told my brothers, as I got older, toward late adolescence, I yearned more and more for these kind of games. I'd get my friends to tie me up and "force" me to blow them. Not often. Not so they thought I was too weird, just a few times. How did Ken and Gary glom onto the idea that I really, really did like submitting, that it made me hard when I was ordered to serve one or both of them? Still just games, I thought. But then Gary started recording times when I'd blow Ken. He'd have me act out begging Ken to let me blow him and then doing it and even eating Ken's cum sometimes. He had me do these things with him too, but he was the techno-geek so the only recordings were of me and Ken. He even got Ken very occasionally to get on his knees and blow me. He recorded those as well.
There came a point where things began to shift and I was slowly sucked into being blackmailed with public exposure of the recordings on the worldnet if I didn't do what they wanted me to. I guess unfortunately for me, I went along with it early and that kind of made it impossible to back out later. But here was my secret: I wasn't sure I wanted to back out. It got me so hard when they made me do things. When they shaved my pubes, I thought I'd spew cum all over them both.
I'd look at our personal slave, Tim. Almost exactly my age, 17, a completely hairless body except for trimmed eyebrows and stubble hair on his head. No armpit hair, no bush, no hair on his legs. It fascinated me and really got me hot looking at him. I wondered what it would be like to be locked in a slave's genital band with my cock and balls pushed forward or wearing rings or rods through my nipples. Guys were wearing rings and rods who weren't slaves. The fad was body jewelry and tattoos, both. It seemed so masculine on other guys so I fantasied what it would be like for me. I didn't have the nerve to ask Mom and Dad if I could get my nipples ringed or anything like that. It wasn't, I thought, that I wanted to live like Tim, a 24 hours a day always slave. It was more that I wanted to feel what it would be like to look like him, be shaved, be ringed, and what it would be like to live the life of a slave as play. But not as a full-time life
style, I thought. Just to experience it.
Well, I guess I'd shared too much of this with Ken and Gary, or maybe they just knew it intuitively by living with me, sharing a bedroom all our lives, finding gay porno and leather sex stories in my stuff, though I made it clear they should stay the hell out of my stuff. Ken had gay mags too, but he also had some girlie ones and Gary seemed pretty hetero.
Then they started giving me, forcing me to have, the very experiences I'd fantasied about. The problem was, for one thing, they did some things that were irreversible, like I said, installing a real slave genital band that would never come off and the ball stuff and tit rings. And now here I was left at a slave training facility for a weekend, a place where I'd find out for real what being a slave was like because clearly that was all I was being allowed to be. So, how come I kept getting hard as Mr. Howard started my slave training? This could not be right and I was simply going to have to tell Mom and Dad what my brothers had done to me.
The jewelry they'd had installed on my body meant I could never go into the boys locker room at school which in turn meant no more team sports, which I loved. And if the school found out the whole thing, maybe they wouldn't even let me attend school there. There were no students at school who were slaves, at least none I knew of and I think I would have known. Yes, Mom and Dad must be told, even if I had to admit to them I was gay and maybe even perverted, if I was, and into things like submission, leather and orders. I couldn't let my brothers ruin my entire life.
I had lots of time to think about all these things. Mr. Howard had had Tim lead me by my leash, while I crawled, to an area that was set aside from the rest of the trimmed lawns. This area was surrounded by razor wire up to maybe ten feet and the ground was concrete or cement. Very hard on my knees. Right in the center of the area, which was maybe 10 feet in diameter, there was what I immediately recognized as a set of standing stocks. My neck and wrists were placed in the vertical slots made for them and the matching top part was lowered on them and locked so I could not remove my hands or head. My ankles were also set in stocks. These were widely spread horizontal notches and I was locked into them just like with my head and hands. The stocks forced me to bend my body a little so I leaned into the top part. I could tell this was going to really start hurting my back if I was going to be left for any long period of time.
The stocks were set right in the sun, so that burnt down on me and I was soon sweating. Mr. Howard thankfully had had Tim coat my body with what I took to be sun tan oil but soon I found the "oil" was itself generating heat and soon my entire body, but especially the sensitive areas like my balls, armpits and dick, seemed to be on fire. This was going to be hell.
Mr. Howard reminded me that I had 10 strokes due for my misbehavior. That was true so I couldn't very well argue the point, could I? Especially since I wasn't given permission to speak. I felt the first stroke on my left buttock and I howled it hurt so much. Thank god I remembered what Tim had done, so I shouted out "one Master, thank you, Master." That seemed to satisfy him since he laughed as he heard me say it. The second stroke set my right buttock flaming, but I remembered to scream out "two Master, thank you, Master." Then it was my thighs, he managed to reach the inner thigh so the pain was excruciating. Then 4 strokes criss-crossing my back and finally two on my chest, where he seemed to make sure he hit my new nipple rings. Once I shouted out my thanks for the 10th stroke I repeated Tim's phrase, "Thank you Master for correcting this slave's misbehavior."
"Well said, slave," was his only response.
With my punishment complete, my mouth was again plugged with a cock gag shoved down my throat and locked in place by a strap behind my head. Next came a blindfold. The mouth cock apparently had a tube running through it because I soon noticed a slow but steady stream of piss flowing into my throat from the cock gag. This slow stream of liquid never stopped and was always piss. As a final indignity, Master hung little bells from each of my nipple rings and from my ball ring. This meant anytime I moved at all, the bells tinkled so anyone listening would know I'd moved without even having to see me. Before he left, Master had Tim place a black mesh bag completely over my head. The strings were tied tightly around my neck. Since the hood was mesh, I could breathe pretty easily but it was just one more reminder, as if at this point I needed one, that no part of my body was my own. All of me belonged for the weekend to Master Howard.
It was while I was locked in the stocks that I thought about all the things I've mentioned. What else was there for me to do, other than think, swallow the piss and sweat? My dick kept trying to harden and each time it did, it set the damn ball bell tinkling. I kept shifting around my body to the very limited degree I could and of course doing this set the nipple bells ringing. For the first time ever, I felt I was just someone's property and it excited me and my dick which was teen-hard. How perverted was I? Obviously very weird indeed.
It seemed like I was left there to contemplate that part of my nature that was slave inclined for several hours. It could have been less but it sure seemed to go on and on. My neck started to hurt because I couldn't raise or straighten it and my fingers started tingling from being kept so high for so long. I was having two simultaneous experiences. On the one hand, I was a naked slave, drinking somebody's piss and locked in a hood and stocks with a plug up my ass and cock gag in my mouth; but on the other hand, I observed myself as this slave, 415, once known as Danny, went through this very restrictive and almost impersonal experience. I observed his feelings, both physical and emotional and how well or poorly he was handling his helplessness.
Truth to tell, I loved the feeling of being truly, not in play like with my brothers, but truly helpless and subject to the will of another person over whom I had not the slightest influence. I felt I was Master Howard's slaveboy and that he would do with me exactly what he wanted to without considering my feelings about it in the least. I honestly felt he was training me. Was this what slavery was? Was this who I was? I hoped not.
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