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. All rights 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. James: head slave of the family household. Ron, 18, classmate and formerly Master of Ken
Chapt. 32: This Is A Hiking Trip? Danny
925 came forward, attached leashes to each of our collars, and led us away. Apparently Mr. Howard was finished with us. We were led to the marking shop and there Ron and I were stretched spread-eagled, first on our stomachs and then on our backs, to receive the "S" tattoo that would now mark us for life as former slaves. Ken naturally was already marked. What in the world did Master Howard now have in mind for us? I simply could not imagine. Would he really keep us more than a week?
Chapt. 33: House Slaves Danny
If we were to be kept more than the full week I'd expected and signed up for, if our fathers had really given Mr. Howard permission to keep us indefinitely, I would find out after seven days. That I knew, and not much else. I'd been a pony slave briefly for Mr. Howard and later a field hand. What did he have in mind now?
Both questions, duration and work, were answered over the next two weeks, so yes, our fathers had turned us over to Mr. Howard as slaves. What about school? When I thought about it, I was basically finished with my junior year, as was Ron was with his senior year. We could miss what remained of school and still be on track, that is, if we were released by the the start of school in the fall. As for work, we spent those two weeks being intensively trained as house slaves. Yes, naked, hairless boys, hobbled, buttplugged, cocks locked under our balls, flopping around as we ran from task to task.
We learned how to serve at table, offering food and removing plates. How to pour water and wine, to pass drinks or small nibbles at a reception, how to show respect at all times to those we were serving and how to keep our mouths closed except to say "Yes, Sir (or Mam)" or "Immediately Sir," or "Thank you, Sir." How to take orders from guests and return to the guest with whatever we'd been told to bring.
We learned to sink to our knees when a guest wished it, ready to suck cock or lick boots, our asses always plugged, our dicks and minds always seeking permission to cum. In those two weeks, we were allowed to cum just once. For each of us, this meant we went well over a week, in my case two weeks, without an orgasm. As I rushed about serving and cleaning, the plug kept fucking me and turning me on but my dick, as it was locked, could not even get hard. It was a constant reminder that I was now truly a slaveboy and that my life was now out of my hands and belonged to Mr. Howard - as did Ron's and Ken's for now.
With two weeks training behind us, we'd been guessing that Mr. Howard was going to sell each of us off as house slaves. This really scared us, to both be slaves and to be without each other. What else could he possibly have in mind? Well, we weren't sold off after all; instead, Mr. Howard's plan was to rent us out, humiliating us and making money in the bargain.
Our first rental was to a large family named Brent. There was father Brent, grandfather and grandma Brent, Mrs. Brent, and two sons, Jonathan and Nelson, ages 17 and 16, and two daughters, Diane and Kathy, ages 15 and 14, so all were teenagers and you know what that meant, lots of sadism and sex, though all in reasonably good fun. The girls carefully examined our chained cocks and balls, feeling up our dicks which swelled from the attention but could not actually get hard or straight. It was really frustrating but at least it was girls so Ron and I felt no attraction but for Ken, the sometimes hetero, it was a different story. They made him wild and he twisted and turned and did everything he could to escape them, but he was a slave and so had no choice but to endure it. For Ron and me, it was funny as we watched it though humiliating as we experienced it ourselves.
But then there were the boys. All three of us were soon in their shared bedroom being felt up by them. Jonathan was enjoying running his hands over our smooth bodies, marveling at the feel of the hairless skin in places where boys usually have hair, like our pits and pubes. Nelson did some stroking as well, but he soon had Ron on his knees undressing him. Once naked, Nelson lay on his bed and ordered Ron to lick his entire body, even his asshole. As Ron began with his toes, Nelson said that he'd always fantasied having this done and indeed, his boner was sticking right out and up from his hairy pubes and a little inward toward his stomach. It had taken no time to become fully engorged and he was soon moaning from the pleasure of Ron licking his chest, nipples and armpits (also hairy).
As it turned out, I was the object of Jonathan's desire. He stroked my body, especially my chest. It felt delicious. Why oh why had Mr. Howard left it impossible for me to get a hard-on? Well, that needs no answer. But when Jonathan started licking my chained cock and balls, I went crazy with desire, twisting from side to side, actually doing partial situps, moaning and begging that he stop. But stop he would not. He was enjoying my distress too much. I leaked some precum. He scooped it up with his forefinger and fed it to me. I couldn't help myself, I was so turned on, I actually grabbed him and kissed him. Of course, I should have been thrashed for taking such a liberty but instead he soon had his tongue exploring my mouth and allowed me to explore his. It was really hot, except I couldn't get hard. My PA was being pulled hard by my cockhead trying to rise and it started to hurt really bad.
To escape Jonathan's attention to my dick, I rolled over onto my stomach, pulled the plug from my ass, and said, "please, Sir, fuck this slave really hard, Sir." I needed it by then. Jonathan didn't hesitate, he had me turn my head so I could lick his dick to moisten it, and he plunged in, hard, really hard and at full mast. I screamed from the the initial pain, but was soon moaning from the pleasure he was giving me as he pumped his dick in and almost out of my ass. My precum was staining his sheets, it wasn't my fault. It was his doing.
His motion over my prostate had me thrashing around again,. We were both sweating plenty. Ken joined in, starting to rim Jonathan's ass and reaching round to pinch his nipples. That got Jonathan so hot, he became a piston, fucking my ass. And then something wonderful happened, as he reared back as he came with a loud shout, I actually shot a little cum as well, not a full orgasm to be sure, but at least a bit of one. Now I came without permission and so had earned a second beating but Jonathan was pleased. He turned me over, scooped up my small mound of cum, and had me suck it (eagerly) from his finger. Then he fell on me, his sweat and mine sticking his chest to mine. It was heavenly, the best.
Once he rolled off me, I quickly bent to kiss his feet and thank him for his fuck and, though it should not have happened, for forcing me to cum a little. I think Ron and Ken were really jealous and they would have gladly spanked my ass had it been their place. But it wasn't, so they sort of sulked some. The two Sirs, both naked, decided that Ron would bathe Nelson in the shower and then Ken and I would bathe Jonathan. It was fun. We got both of them hard again so I went down on Nelson and Ken on Jonathan. Being about our ages, they had no great difficulty in cumming again and enjoyed seeing we slaves swallowing their boy cum. Unfortunately, Mr. Brent took that moment to open the door, no knock, and walk in.
What he saw was five naked boys, three of them in collars and chains, hairless, and the other two his free sons who still had their dicks in my and Ken's mouths. Both boys immediately withdrew. "Well," said Mr. Brent, "I see my sons have been making use of the slaves I rented for tonight's party. Had a frolic boys? Get dressed, NOW." He was not pleased, but after all, we were not to blame, were we?
Well, slaves are always to blame and we were soon standing in his punishment room. He stretched Ron over the leather horse and had us tie him down. The thing was built with openings at tit and cock levels. He attached a vicious looking set of teethed clamps on poor Ron's tits. Ron could not help himself, he screamed and screamed in agony. Mr. Bent added a leather band with inside pinpricks around Ron's cock and balls. From Ron's contortions and screams, it too was clearly agonizing. Mr. Bent smiled, I guess it turned him on to hurt boys. He ordered Ken and me to undress him and to suck his cock so it was hard and moist. I'll say this, for a man in his forties or fifties, Mr. Bent had a great body. Hairy chest, pits and pubes, a nice pleasure trail still there, and good sized organs.
First he removed the plug from Ron's ass. Then he finger fucked him, one finger, two, three, he soon had Ron moaning from the pleasure, no more screams. When he was ready, he just put the head of his manly 8 incher at Ron's hole, and then, without warning, plunged in. Ron screamed and kept screaming as Mr. Bent started to ream his ass. The more Ron screamed, the more Mr. Bent looked as though he was enjoying himself. After perhaps five minutes or more of painful pumping, Mr. Bent groaned and shot off inside Ron. But he wasn't finished. His dick still in Ron's ass, he started spanking first one ass cheek, then the other. Hard smacks. By now, Ron was crying. Who wouldn't be? But that was not all, Mr. Bent pissed up Ron's chute before pulling out and immediately after doing so, he stuffed the plug back up Ron's ass, entrapping his piss. Ron was clearly exhausted and could only groan. Now he'd been given a piss enema but could not shit it out.
Leaving Ron there to suffer, Mr. Bent attached nasty clamps to Ken's and my nipples and then had us wash him down in the shower off the playroom. After we'd dried him off, we both stayed wet since he'd not given us permission to use his towel to dry off. As he left the basement, he told us we could release Ron and clean him up. He told us there were no towels for slaves and so left us to drip dry. He had not removed our tit clamps and we were forbidden to remove Ron's except for the brief time needed to release him from the horse. As we showered off Ron, we barely spoke, each thinking no doubt, as I did, great heavens, what had I gotten into?
The next two hours were spent in the kitchen assisting the slave staff in preparing for Mr. Brent's dinner party. They too were all plugged, it looked like the plugs were pretty massive, and each had weights hanging from his tit rings. They were each locked in heavy metal chastity pouches, so they could neither see nor touch themselves. I figured it must be hell, literally hell, to be a slave of Mr. Brent. Except for giving us or eachother directions, there was absolutely no conversation. They must not be allowed to speak unless necessary or with permission. It was one scary place.
Now I have to interrupt to talk about my interest in slavery. Some of this I've said before but some not. From as far back as I can remember, maybe to four years old, I was fascinated by our house slaves, and then by those at school and at the houses of our friends whom we'd visit. They were almost always bare chested and usually had no body hair. But the few who were allowed pit or pubic hair were in some ways the most fascinating, for they were so much more like ordinary free men. Naturally all had collars and genital bands and usually ball bands, as I now did.
Almost without exception, they were quietly compliant and generally treated us very nicely. I was consumed by the way in which they received and immediately obeyed orders, even from we young boys. I fear we teased and sometimes physically hurt them though never meanly, always in fun. But fun for us was not necessarily fun for them. To this, we gave no thought. Slaves were slaves and that's all they were.
By the time I was ten or eleven, I began to imagine what it was like to have to go about naked in front of men and women (and kids), to wear collars and other restraints, to always be deferent, to call everyone Sir, or Master, or Mam or Miss. My brother Ken, a year older than me, began to enjoy making me behave like I was a slave and by the time we were in our teens, both Ken and Gary were often treating me as though I were a slave. The real problem was that when they did it, I'd get a boner and actually want to serve, and service, them. As you know, eventually Gary realized this, and took charge of me, really treating me as his slave.
There was something in me that yearned to serve, to submit. That was it. I felt others should dominate me and I should submit to their will. I wanted to. I'd jerk off thinking about it. The joy of submission. My gift to a dominant man. On the other hand, this idea really scared me which is why, eventually, I had wanted to visit Mr. Howard's center and try it out. Of course, I had no idea that this time I would be doing it for real and that my father knew and wanted me to be trained. That was a hell of a surprise.
Serving and submitting was one thing, but a life of permanent servitude, to be a slave not just a submissive, that worried me. I was not at all sure it was for me. And I realized, if it were to happen, baring something unforeseen like what happened to Ken, it would mean volunteering for that life, giving up my freedom of my own will. Could I do that? Did I wish to do that? Was there another path to submission that didn't require me to totally relinquish my status as a free man? I didn't know.
Enough about my thoughts and fantasies for a while. I had loved the play with Jonathan and Nelson, but that was play. What Mr. Brent had done was quite another thing and so was serving as a kitchen helper at the bottom of the totem pole. The three of us, together with one of the Brent's house slaves, were eventually ordered to set the table, It was to be a dinner for thirty-six, quite an affair. It was the Brent's twentieth anniversary I learned, so it would be a real occasion. I had a feeling, a pretty awful feeling, that before the night was over, Ken, Ron and I were going to end up as the evening's entertainment. Now that was scary.
Copyright 2009 JKBlackhouse. All rights reserved by the author. 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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