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 2009 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, footballer; 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. 11: Nothing To Do But Think - Danny
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.
Brothers & Slaves: Chapt. 13: Back At The Ranch - Danny
I don't know for how many hours I'd been left to broil in the sun while locked in the stocks, plugged, gagged and swallowing a constant driblet of piss delivered through the gag. It seemed interminable. In addition, my newly pierced nipples were hurting bad, and the weight of the bell Mr. Howard had hung from each nipple ring certainly didn't help either.
At last I could feel cool hands massaging my back. The bells were removed from the nipple rings and my ball ring, and suddenly life seemed really good. It doesn't take much does it? The mesh bag was removed from my head, I could feel the air bathing my face and drying some of my sweat. I had this otherworld like feeling of gratitude to Mr. Howard who I presumed was the one easing my situation.
While still blindfolded and gagged, I felt my ankles released from the stock that had been holding them widely separated, and then, blessed heaven (or should I say blessed Mr. Howard?), my neck and wrists were released from the upright stock. I pumped my fists and wriggled my fingers to get the circulation going again. The gag was removed from my mouth but I already knew enough not to speak. I fell to my knees searching for Master's boots so I could kiss them to express my thanks and submission to his will. He had sent me so totally into a mental slave space that such a gesture seemed the natural one.
I felt a boot being shoved under my lowered face and I eagerly kissed and then licked it. I did the same with the second boot once my tongue was able to find it. I felt it appropriate and permissible to then say, "Thank you, Master." Nothing more and I was unsure if even that overstepped the bounds of my slave training.
"You're welcome, boy," said a voice sounding like Mr. Howard's. A leash was clipped to my collar and I was led off the concrete paving onto a grassy area which was most welcome for my knees. When there was no longer any pull on the leash I stayed on my hands and knees waiting to be told what to do. My blindfold was removed. The bright sun momentarily blinded me but slowly I was able to discern Master standing right in front of me. I assumed the slave present position, back straight, head bowed and hands behind my head. I did this to demonstrate my respect for Mr. Howard and my understanding and acceptance of my place as his slave-in-training.
Tim placed a bowl in front of me. I was told to drink the cool fluid. It was really nice cold water but laced, as I began to think all my fluids were going to be, with a small but noticeable taste of piss. As I drank, I processed that and thought it fitting that I be introduced into drinking piss as something that a slave would most normally and naturally do. When I had my fill of the pissed-in water, I resumed the slave present position and awaited an order telling me what to do next.
Mr. Howard handed my leash to Tim, who at home was my slave but here seemed to be acting as an assistant trainer. Beyond the convenience for Master, I figured this was meant to force me to understand just how low I was, slave to a slave. I was led by Tim into one of the barns that housed Mr. Howard's field stock of slaves and those he had in training as well. Tim led me to a cage, backed me into it and locked the front. I was now surrounded by bars on all sides, including where I'd just entered. There was a thin pad lining the bottom of the cage. A nozzle in the form of a cock hung from one of the top bars.. Tim kindly informed me that anytime I was thirty all I had to do was suck on the cock to get a drink. He also pointed out the drain which I could see under my cage by lifting the pad. He said if I had to piss, I had permission. I was to lift the mat and piss down the drain as best I could. He was most firm that I was to lick up any urine that might find its way into the cage or land on the pad. I nodded that I understood, not sure if I was permitted to thank him.
Once he left me, I examined my cage. We had one much like it at home that Dad used to punish a slave (and even one of us) by locking him up but this he did most rarely. I had the feeling that slaves at this facility, at least those in training, were probably always lodged in one of the many cages. The cage was perhaps 3-4 feet high, enough so I could almost sit up straight, though not quite. It seemed about 5 feet long which meant it would be impossible for me to stretch out. It was plenty wide, maybe 2 feet, more than enough so I could turn around to face either end. I was pretty exhausted, so I curled up and lay down on my side.
The next thing I knew there was a rod poking at my ass and voice shouting that I must wake up and face front. At first I had no idea where I was, but it took only moments for me to realize I was locked in a slave cage and that I was here for slave training. I faced the front of the cage with my eyes lowered knowing that if it was a free man poking at me I was not allowed to look at his face unless told to do so. I guessed the man must be one of the Overseers. He told me I would soon have a bowl of food slid into my cage by a slave designated for this service. I was to remember that I did not have permission to speak. I nodded that I understood. "Good boy," was all he said as he moved away.
I became aware that there were now many slaves in cages just as I was. The strangest thing was the complete silence. Not a single slave said a word. I guess they must be far along in their training.
A naked slave, no body hair at all, wearing nothing but his collar, wrist and ankle bands and genital band, pushed a cart through the center aisle between the cages on each side, distributing to each a bowl that I assumed must be the evening meal. When he got to me, he actually spoke, but only to say "Oh, a newbie" and shoved my bowl through the slot at the front of the cage designed for this purpose. I already knew better than to answer him. By this time, my buttplug was beginning to make itself felt. My ass was feeling increasingly and almost distressingly full. I ignored this and looked to see what dinner might be.
I was so disappointed, I almost broke down crying. All there was for dinner was slave chow mixed with some water which I was sure was probably really just dilute piss. I watched as the slaves around me poked their faces into their bowls and began to gobble up the chow. I thought to myself, `well, at least I'll be out of here tomorrow and home eating like a real person so I just better make do.' I lowered my face into the bowl and for the first time in my life ate an entire dinner from a dog bowl by just sticking my head into the bowl and tonguing up as much chow as I could each time. I was right about the water, it was really just piss which didn't make the meal any tastier as far as I was concerned. But of course, I realized, no one was concerned with what I thought, I was just a slave and I would be fed just like any other slave.
About 20 minutes later, another slave came through with a cart picking up the bowls as he walked along the cage line. We slaves had to push the bowl out through the opening provided for it but some of the slaves, I noticed, had their hands in mitts or cuffed to their collars and they just had to slide the bowl out as best they could with their snouts. I noticed that the collecting slave examined each bowl to make sure it had been completely emptied. I guess we slaves got what we were to eat and had to eat all we got.
I saw many of the slaves lifting their pads so they could piss down the drain. Those with cock piercings sprayed their piss all over the place and had to do quite a lot of licking up errant urine. I licked up some of my piss but it was just a tiny amount, nothing to bother me any longer.
Some thirty minutes later, Mr. Howard entered the barn. If it was silent before, it was deathly quiet now. He walked down the entire line of cages, looking at each slave as it tried as best the cage allowed to assume the present position. When he'd walked the entire line, he retraced his steps and stopped at my cage. What had I done wrong? He unlocked the cage, clipped a leash to my collar and said aloud "Good night slaves," to which there was an immediate response in unison of "Good night, Master. Thank you, Master," from each and every slave.
I was led by Master to a side room off the central space. There appeared to be a number of these rooms. As soon as I was in and looked around, I began to tremble. On each of the walls, there were implements of bondage and torture. Whips, manacles, paddles, and I don't know what all since much of the stuff I'd never seen before nor knew what its specific use was. From the ceiling, there hung a multitude of chains and scattered in the corners were various pieces of large apparatus, but a St. Andrews Cross was the only one I recognized. I was so tired I just could not stand the thought that now I was to be tortured and I began to weep.
Mr. Howard looked down at me in apparent astonishment. "What in the world are you crying about, boy?" he asked.
"Master, Sir, please don't hurt me. I'm so tired Master, please, I can't take any more Master," and I was really balling.
Master just laughed. Laughed! Then he said, "Boy, we're not here for a training session, we're here so I can find out what you thought about your first day of training. That's all. I needed a private place and this is the most convenient. I won't say that slaves aren't punished here because they are, but that's not why we're here. So tell me boy what you think, you're free to speak and say anything you wish as long as you remain respectful."
I responded immediately: " Oh, Master, thank you Master. You are so kind and understanding, Master. Master, this slave felt for the first time in its life that it was experiencing what a legal slave experiences. It's been hard but in a way wonderful, Master. My slave dick has been hard off and on all day as I lived through the slave training you designed for me, Master.
"Master, this slave doesn't know if the slave life is the life it wants to lead forever, but it is sure it wants more training and more experiences of the slave life so it can decide. Besides, Master, in all honesty, though demanding and at times very humiliating, like when you had our family slave Tim leading me as I crawled behind him, the truth is Master, it was a monster turn on for me. My slave dick kept hardening on and off all day, Master. I hope I haven't spoken out of turn Master but you asked that I tell you truly what I thought and that is truly what I thought. All day I wanted your Master cock in my slave mouth, Master. Master, this slave has not developed a taste for piss, though it's consumed quite a bit today, but the slave would welcome your piss and your cum, Master."
"Well, boy," Mr. Howard said, "I guess that's a lot more than I was expecting but I'm glad you trust me sufficiently to tell me such intimate truths. You did very well today, boy, for your very first day. Of course if you'd been a real slave, it would have been harsher but not too different. So you want to spend the night, ass plugged, in your cage and be treated tomorrow like all the other slaves In training until it's time for you to leave?"
"Oh definitely, Master, if you please Master. Master, do not take account of what this slave wishes, please treat it as you would any slave Master. And Master, if it pleases you, this slave would like to return for more training and then spend its entire next vacation here as a slave in training, should it please you, Master."
`Very well, slave. You are now committed to this weekend and I will not again give you a chance to back out. You are no longer free to speak, slave. We'll see about the future boy. Now I have to piss, boy, you know your duty."
"Yes, Master." I crawled to where Master stood, then raised myself on my knees. "Master, this slave begs permission to serve as your urinal, Master." I opened my mouth and prepared to received Master's full bladder. More than I'd want but being required to serve was what excited me. My cock was hard.
Master placed his dick in my mouth, used my ears to pull me close, then let loose a heavy stream of piss. I gulped it down as rapidly as I could, only a few dribbles sliding down the sides of my mouth. "You need piss practice, boy, you're losing some." Master pulled his dick from my mouth and I moaned (but said nothing) in disappointment. Then he let loose the rest of his stream all over my body, my face, crotch, chest, legs, head, everywhere. He just doused me completely in his piss.
"There slave," he said. "Next time you'll be more careful than to spill any of your Master's precious piss. Now you can sleep wearing it. What do you say, boy?"
"Master, this slave thanks you Master for your piss and for the lesson you have taught it, Master."
Master had me stand. He reached for my balls and squeezed. I bowed my head, my hands behind my head, my nipple rings hanging down, accepting the pain and dominance of Master's hand. The pain reached all the way into my stomach. He stroked my dick, just sort of tickling it, not nearly enough to remotely get me off. Then again the hard squeeze on my balls. The pain became so intense I screamed. Master slapped my face hard. "No one said you could speak, slave," he said. I bowed my head further and said nothing. Then Master began tapping my balls, and then flicking his fingers at them. This began to really hurt as he kept it up unrelentingly, then also flicking my ringed nipples, but I'd learned not to scream, that was for sure. Oh, the ball pain, the tit pain. Yet my dick betrayed me, it was deep red hard. Master called for Tim.
Master had Tim pick up my leash and lead me back to my cage stinking and reeking of Master's piss. Tim locked my hands in thick leather mitts, then locked my cage, Oh god. Tim walked away. I knew all the other slaves could smell me and probably knew what Master had done. There was nothing I could do about any of it. I was a slave. I curled up, lying on my side and tried to ignore my own stink as I fell asleep. I could feel the plug filling my ass just like the asses of thousands, millions of slaves were filled this night around the world. I still had tomorrow morning to continue my training, what would Master require of me?
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 sending so many interesting ideas and scenarios - I've used some and am keeping in mind others. Keep them coming. email: jkblackhouse@yahoo.com