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.
Chapt. 13: Back at the Ranch
With that as an ending, Tim picked up my leash and led me back to my cage stinking and reeking of piss. He locked my hands in thick leather mitts, then locked my cage and 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, laying 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. I still had tomorrow morning to continue my training, what would Master design for me?
Chapt. 14: One Brother - Danny
I awoke to the sound of metal striking metal. Where was I? Once my limbs bumped the bars of my cage, I knew; I was in a slave cage, naked, collared, with my hands locked in mitts and Mr. Howard was my Master. My brain wrapped around the knowledge that I was here to experience slave training and to be treated just as a true, legal slave would be. I had spent a large part of the previous day confined to a standing stock, and had been made to move about on my hands and knees only. I'd eaten the same slave chow the other slaves did, not only that, it had been laced with piss. In fact, about everything I'd gotten to drink so far had had piss in it. I guess that's how slaves learn to be the urinals they often become for their Masters.
There must have been 50 or more cages just like mine in the barn, and I knew Mr. Howard had several barns. This one seemed to be mostly limited to slaves who were still in training. The silence was eerie. There was absolutely no conversation between slaves in neighboring cages. I supposed that like me, they'd been told they could only speak when given permission, asking for permission, or to acknowledge a Master's act or question: "Master, yes Master" and "Master, thank you, Master." Each time a slave received something from an Overseer or Mr. Howard, he was required to thank the Overseer or Master, whether it was the stroke of a belt or whip, or a belly full of piss. I had already learned that slaves live to serve and must express their gratitude at all appropriate times.
What, I wondered, might Master Howard have planned for me this morning? He'd soaked me in his piss the night before and I'd had to sleep reeking of the stuff. I'm sure the slaves on either side of me weren't too pleased but there was nothing any of us could do because one of the essences of slavery was taking from the slave the notion (and reality) that he has choice. He does not choose, he is told. It had taken me just one day to learn that essential rule.
As was the case last night, a slave trundled through the barn with a cart, shoving bowls of food through the slots at the bottom of each cage gate. I now expected that I would receive only chow and that it would be swimming in piss and I was not wrong. Slave chow is pretty tasteless though grainy, but mixed with piss (or water) it becomes a gooey mess. With my hands locked in mitts, I could do nothing differently from the other slaves. I stuck my head into the bowl and licked up my meal. I knew it would at least fill me up and that it was nourishing. We slaves were expected to empty our food bowls and each bowl was inspected by the slave as it was returned to ensure nothing had been left. To leave food would be to waste Master's money, nothing a slave would dare or want to do. Wearing the mitts as I did, I had no way of wiping the last remnants of food from my face unless I was prepared to mess the mitts and I thought that was almost certainly not a thing I should do. So I just waited along with the others to be told what to do, my face partially smeared with slave chow and piss.
During the night, I'd managed to lift my cage pad so I could piss into the drain underneath. Now I just wanted the plug out of my ass. I needed to dump in the worst way, or at least the plug made me feel like I did. But I squeezed my asshole as tight as I could to make sure I didn't expel the plug. I was absolutely sure that if I did, I would be punished and as I'd already learned, punishments here were real. Of course, during all this time, I was completely unaware what had befallen my brothers. I assumed they were home in their comfy beds sleeping in since it was Sunday morning. I hoped they would pick me up early in the afternoon and not wait until late in the day. I was tired and I needed time to process what I was going through. What it meant, how I felt about it.
There was a loud whistle, and the gates of about ten cages opened automatically, I guess. The slaves wiggled out of their cages and knelt on the cement floor, heads touching the floor and hands behind their heads. They looked neither left nor right. The Overseer told them to stand and they did so, heads bowed and hands still behind their heads. I could see that each slave had metal wrist and ankle bands as well as his metal collar. Of course, like me and all legal slaves, they wore genital bands, had pierced nipples and cocks, as well as snout rings. Some had additional rings, like through their ball sac or between their legs between their assholes and balls. While some wore chastity devices, not all did. Some had their PA rings locked to the ring through their sacs. Ouch, no boners for them.
The slaves were gone perhaps fifteen or fewer minutes and then another group of ten went and so on. When the gate to my cage opened, I crawled out as I'd seen the slaves do and assumed the position, my ass high, my forehead touching the floor and my hands behind my head. This was so completely ignominious, that my cock started to rise and I was soon completely boned up. This naturally added to my humiliation but sly glances down the line of the others showed I wasn't the only one with a hard dick.
We were led to the slave cleansing area. I just followed what the others did. With our mitts taken off, we first removed our butt plugs. We then lined up in two files to squat over holes in the floor into which we had to dump our shit. Aim was important here and not everyone quite hit the mark so it was necessary to actually step on a little shit inorder to squat over the hole. This had to be the most humiliating single thing I'd done yet. One of the slaves took a hose from the wall and hosed down the hole area until it was shit free. We were then paired up. Each slave was to wash his counterpart and then himself be washed by his mate.
I was paired with a fine looking stud who had lost all his hair including his head and eyebrows. He looked strange of course, but I'd seen slaves on the street and other places who had also lost all their hair. He had a handsome, serious face, beautiful globes for ass cheeks, and a nicely developing chest with pierced nipples holding the wide slave rings, and a snout ring as well. His PA ring was locked to a ring through his ball sac. I could hardly imagine how painful this must be for him. It must be unbearable when his dick decided to try to get hard. The thought made me shudder. His hands running over my body, even using the coarse slave soap, felt just wonderful and my own dick was hard as a rock. I couldn't help it. He soaped up every inch of me, my crack, my hole as well as my cock and balls, my armpits, face, everything. Then I stood under the shower, letting the cold water drain over me as he wiped off the soap. A cold shower wasn't my idea of fun, but I was, afterall, just getting what all the slaves got.
Then it was my turn to soap up his body. Just touching his back and ass got me turned-on, I also wiped down his legs and arms. Then I turned him and looking straight into what were lovely green eyes, I soaped his chest and nipples, still tender as were mine from recent piercing, then his armpits which for some reason gave me a special thrill, wiping the soap in the smooth pits of another boy, and finally his genitals. This was a struggle for him because his dick wanted to spring a boner but of course couldn't, so he moaned some as I did my soaping. Then it was under the shower, wash him down, and suddenly the water turned off. Time must be up. I'd noticed how my mate had stared at my chest when he found no slave "S" tattooed or burned into my flesh. He had both, ass and pectoral "S" tattoos and truthfully, they looked great on him. They really set off his tanned, smooth skin. I know it may be unkind to say this, but it's the truth.
We were led to a window where a slave handed each of us our buttplug for the day. Mine was a little longer and wider than yesterdays but seemed about the same as all the rest. There was a pot of lube for us to use. I'd hoped I'd be able to shove the plug up my mate's ass but it turned out each of us had to plug himself. There was much grunting as we slipped the plugs in, I know I was groaning loudly at the sudden stretching of my ass wider than yesterday. Then we were lined up, marched back to our cages, which we reentered, and then with a clang, our gates were shut and off went the next group.
Once we'd all been through the cleaning program, all the gates were opened and the slaves, hands behind their heads which were bowed, marched out of the barn into the bright sunny day that awaited us. It was so nice being outside, away from all the body smells of all those cooped up guys. It turned out I was going to be taught how to pull a pony wagon as my morning training. This got rather involved since they had to bridle me, what a strange feeling to have my face enclosed in a leather bridle, then my wrists were locked to the shafts of the cart and a leather belt was cinched around my waist and then attached by chain to a ring on the center at the front of the cart. This was all extremely exciting to me and my dick simply would not go down. A second belt was similarly set around my chest. They removed the butt plug I'd just inserted and replaced it with an equally wide and long one that had a tail hanging down. I supposed to make sure I understood I was a pony not a human. I'd seen these tails on many, many slave ponies and horses.
The reins ran under my armpits and were unfortunately attached to my nipple rings. I realized this could do nothing but hurt me. My boner started to shrink. I was first shown how to move with the cart, just walking and before long I got the hang of moving my legs and pulling with my chest and arms, A flick of the whip on my back or ass meant speed up, a pull on the reins meant slow down. The worst was being steered left and right by tugs on my nipples. Those really hurt immediately and just got more painful as the lesson dragged on. I was finally given a rest period and a bag of urine water was hung over my head for me to drink. I was told not to overload my stomach, that the fluid was not there to be consumed all at once. Well, there's nothing like drinking down some piss that's been sitting in the sun, is there? I thought I'd barf right into the bag but I managed without retching to drink the fluid I truly needed after all the sweating I'd been doing.
Now it was time for the show. A driver got on the cart, whipped my ass, and I started off down the dirt road we were on. I was a slave pony - it was hard to believe but so exciting. It didn't take long before the driver grew impatient and gave me several licks with the whip on my back and ass. I guessed I better step up the pace immediately, which I did, beginning to trot along. Lucky I was on the track team, I thought. The first real problem came when we reached a hill. I was pretty winded by then and pulling the weight of both the cart and the man up that hill was a killer. And toward the top, he whipped my ass to go faster. I did, sweat pouring off my body.
When we reached the top he pulled me to a stop and walked up to me. He looked right into my eyes and said "Well done, boy, for a first timer, well done." I know it sounds crazy, but I was as pleased as if I'd won the State Championship at 200 meters. I was exhausted but I felt soooo good about doing well that my cock started to get hard again. The driver said to me that I should piss anytime I needed to, just like a horse would, whether moving or resting. That sent my dick down, and I let loose a torrent of piss, much of it striking my own legs and feet. This is real slavery, I thought to myself. I was given more piss water to drink, and then we were off again, this time I had to learn how to pull the cart downhill without getting crushed by it. The driver kept giving me instructions that kept me safe.
By the time I'd pulled the cart back to the barn area, I was beat. My nipples were so tender and sore I thought I'd scream. Just removing the reins from the nipple rings caused me awful pain. I was unhitched from the cart and tethered to a railing of what I guess was a training coral. I had more piss-water, then a bowl of slave chow, watered as usual of course, was put on the ground and i had to get down on all fours to eat it. Wow, it tasted so good. It's amazing what a little training and exercise will do for you. My pony plug was replaced with the one I'd started the day with and I realized I'd gotten a little used to having my ass stuffed all the time, and I liked it.
Soon after, Mr. Howard came along with another slave in tow. We were set to crawling with leashes clipped to our collars. He led us all the way to the cleansing room. There, he allowed me the opportunity to take his piss. There was a lot of it, but I didn't loose a drop. I was learning. Then he had the other slave remove my plug, help me shit down the hole, and then give me a complete body wash. It was so completely refreshing that when I was done with the shower, I dropped to my knees before Mr. Howard, kissed his boots and said simply, "Master, thank you, Master." What more could a slave say? He looked down at me and seemed very pleased.
I was given the clothes I'd worn when I came to the Facility and I was actually asked if I wanted to be plugged or not for the trip home. I again got on my knees before Mr. Howard and said, "Master, I don't know. Please decide for me, Master." He seemed to hesitate as if he was thinking it might be too much for me, but he sent the other slave to get a clean plug, had the boy lube it and then shove it up my ass. It was just as wide and long as the one I'd been fitted with that morning.
"Boy, Danny, you really did more than I ever expected a new free boy like you could do," said Mr. Howard. "I am very pleased with you. If you will come here with the same submissive attitude and desire to be submissive and to learn, you may return as often and for as long as you like. Here's the kicker, once we agree ahead of time how long each training period is to last, I will not release you until that full time has been served."
I could only kiss his boots again and murmur, "Master, yes Master."
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.
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email: jkblackhouse@yahoo.com