Disclaimer: All rights reserved. No part of the story can be reproduced in any form without the permission of the author.
Please Sirs, Masters, bois... please donate to nifty.org so that these stories can continue to be posted and hot times can ensue. Please Sirs, please. (bois, my brothers, do the right thing...)
Several Masters and Sirs on the web have asked for this story, so i thought i'd post it here. Respectfully to the Masters involved, i have embellished some. The names, dates, and places are changed to protect all involved. This is loosely based, in part, on a true story, true experiences, true witnessing of some crazy hot times, and a little fantasy.
Your constructive feedback has been great so far, more is very welcome at obedientboi4SIR@gmail.com. To all the Masters and bois who have emailed your compliments to date, thank you so much, this boi is very grateful.
Chapter Twenty-two - intensity
Both twink slave bois recovered quickly from their lashes with the three different canes, once Dr, Heilman stepped in with smelling salts. They were ordered to stand and walk through the crowd, a vote of the Masters present would determined the best cane to use.
When they stood in front of us, their marked boi-asses were inches from my face. i could smell the sweat and fear on them. Pecs reached out and rubbed the three angry stripes on their asses. He carefully explained the order of the stripes and which implement inflicted them. All were red and mean looking, but they got worse in descending order. The Slicer was harsh, the Twisted Fuck was harsher, the Abrasor was harshest. Pecs voted for the Twisted Fuck, slapped the bois' asses and sent them over to Timmy's Master.
Pecs whispered to me that the Slicer rod was applied that last time. Using the Twisted Fuck now would leave the Abrasor rod and a fear mechanism to prevent another session. It was a bit of a mind-fuck. i thought it seemed like wise reasoning, but what did i know. One crack of any of them would be hell on my inexperienced boi-ass.
Once all the Masters had inspected the twink slave bois, they reported the scoring to the Big-dicked Man. 12 votes for the Twisted Fuck, 6 for the Abrasor, 0 for the Slicer. Without speaking to one another, both bois counted their votes exactly the same. They were sent back to Master Joe's boots. They practically raced there on their hands and knees.
The Big-dicked Man took the Twisted Fuck from the case and brought it to the guilty boi's face. he obediently kissed and worshipped it, begging for mercy and restraint while babbling about his need for correction. his words were a jumble of mixed messages, but fear tends to scramble a boi's brain. he was shaking and sweating profusely. i have no doubt most bois in the audience were as well.
"There will be a week of crawling in your future, boi" the Big-dicked Man growled as He laid in the first crack of the Twisted Fuck across the soles of the bound boi's feet. The scream was deafening, it echoed throughout the space and sent chills down every boi witness's spine.
"COUNT, boi" the Big-dicked Man thundered.
"One, SIR" screamed.
Crack! A second stripe was laid to the boi's feet. his body convulsed and shook uncontrollably. Still he held his composure as best possible and shouted.
"Two SIR, thank YOU, SIR, thank you SIR, i'm sorry SIR," the words coming from a dry and raspy throat.
Crack! The third strike tenderized his soles. More shaking and screaming ensued.
"Three SIR, thank YOU, SIR, thank you SIR, i'm sorry SIR," squeaked out in a waning voice, exhausted already.
The next three strikes came so rapidly, the boi couldn't possibly speak. At the end of the sixth strike, he shook violently, collapsed and passed out, his piss flooding the floor below him. Dr. Heilman stepped in and inspected his condition.
The boi came to on his own, undoubtedly much to his regret. The Doctor rubbed his feet carefully and the boi screamed with the touch. He pronounced no broken bones, but called for a short rest period. The Big-dicked Man consented to the Doctor's advice and asked for the Abrasor.
Guns stepped in and exchanged the Twisted Fuck for the wicked Abrasor. With little ceremony, the Big-dicked Man laid two strikes of the rod across the guilty boi's ass. While the boi screamed and jerked in his tight confines. The Big-dicked Man laughed and walked away.
Master Joe stepped up and brought His brother slaves to His guilty boi's head. Slave piss watered the trapped boi and the audience was dismissed for a break.
Pecs walked me over to the trapped boi as He chatted with Guns. The bois feet were deep red and already bruising. The Abrasor left two very rough, almost bloody marks on the boi's ass. Guns lowered His leather jock and brought His semi-hard cock to my lips. Obediently, i nursed out a warm piss-load. He rubbed my head and patted me almost gently on the face.
The Big-dicked Man approached them as i was finishing up and chatted with them. i remained on my knees with three huge bulging pouches all around me. Without thinking, i licked my lips. The Big-dicked Man laughed and called me a cockwhore. He reached down and grabbed the ring in my collar and yanked me to my feet. He ordered Guns to hold me up and Guns grabbed me from behind with His powerful arms under my armpits. The hold forced my hands above my head abruptly.
The Big-dicked Man kicked my feet wide apart and grabbed my weighted balls. He squeezed and pulled and manipulated them until i thought i'd pass out from the pain. i had sweat everywhere on my body. A few grunts involuntarily escaped my lips and i was back-handed harshly both times.
Pecs brought Timmy over and He and the Big-dicked Man compared our boi balls. Timmy's Master held him up in a similar fashion to the way i was being held. Clearly the incredibly low hang of Timmy's nuts was the model for mine.
"See how they swing without weight?" the Big-dicked Man instructed Pecs as He slapped Timmy's balls. i heard the slap and looked at Timmy. His face showed zero reaction. Timmy was a well-trained boi and i admired him immensely. Pecs asked a few questions, both Men tugged and stretched my nuts. Clearly the Big-dicked Man was the boss and very experienced and knowledgeable about boi transformations and training.
"We'll start him out on the screws tomorrow" He said, "by Monday morning, he'll be walking funny but good and stretched." The Big-dicked Man thanked Timmy's Master and then waved us off. Pecs led me back to His seat and left me there, with Timmy.
"Low voices, bois, talk quietly" He said as He left us there. Timmy grabbed my hand and put it on his balls. They were really stretched low, it was like a real sack of marbles.
"They were like yours when i started" he whispered, "my Master loves to slap mine around, He likes to see them sway and bounce. He really likes me to wear short shorts in public in the summer to see who notices my balls showing." i was in awe and smiled at him.
"Was it a lot of work to get them that way? i'm a little scared" i confided in him. he smiled and wrapped his arms around me in a comforting gesture.
"No pain, no gain, brother," he said, "they aren't your balls, let your Master have them. It's all worth it. When my Master smiles or laughs at my agony or embrassment, my heart is full and so is my boi dick." he laughed quietly and then he kissed me and we made out until the session started up again. i couldn't believe this hot twink slave boy was so into me. he drove his tongue like a Mac truck through my mouth. We pulled on each others balls the whole time. his boi-dick was rock hard, my own strained mightily in it cage. i squirmed and whimpered. i was so horny.
Timmy's Master eventually pulled us apart by slapping Timmy's ass hard. he jumped and pulled back, reassuming his proper position between his Master's legs. His Master leaned down over him and stroked his boi dick until it looked like Timmy would explode, but then He stopped leaving Timmy on edge. The Master laughed and Timmy grinned ear to ear, his hands carefully held together behind his back, his chest heaving.
i had moved myself in front of Pecs chair and waited patiently for Him to return. Minutes later, He took His seat and rubbed my head, calling me a good boi. i beamed. He leaned over and stroked Timmy's dick a couple more times, until it bubbled up some pre-cum, and then He sat up straight, grabbed my head and focused me on the guilty boi again.
During the break, Guns and the other Man retightened the bindings on the guilty boi. Dr. Heilman carefully inspected him and deemed him worthy to finish out the session. One of his two slave brothers had cleaned up his piss, licking up most of it with his tongue. The Doctor asked him questions and the boi responded. i didn't really get to pay much attention to it as Timmy was occupying most of my world.
The Big-dicked Man stepped up and quieted the room, just by doing so. His presence was commanding in a way i had never experienced. He had the Abrasor rod in His hands and He presented it to the boi for his worship. Obediently, the boi kissed it and asked for the rest of his punishment.
"You can see how a few strokes of these implements can adjust a boi's attitude, but to truly leave a lasting impression, to really correct his behavior, it takes more," He explained. And with that He warmed up and cracked the boi's ass twice more with the rod.
Interestingly, the boi did not scream out. he still shook like mad and was sweating profusely, but all the noise he made was a low grunt. i began to understand that the Big- dicked Man was very, very knowledgeable about this subject. He exchanged the Abrasor for the Twisted Fuck again and demanded that the boi count out, beginning at 7. He quickly laid the seventh crack across the poor boi's the trapped and tortured soles.
"SEVEN, SIR, THANK YOU, SIR, PLEASE TEACH THIS BOI MORE, SIR!" he shouted in a very clear and loud voice.
Eight, nine, and ten came out the same. Very clear, very loud, very well spoken considering the stress and pain of the situation. But at eleven, the break occurred. The Big-dicked Man laid number eleven in particularly hard. The boi shook like mad, his head twisted side to side and he screamed again.
"ELEVEN, SIR... oh God, please..." his voice lowered for a minute and then he found his strength and centered himself. "PLEASE, SIR, MORE, SIR" came out clearly.
Stroke number twelve was the hardest of all. i think the bench moved forward with the strike and violent reaction that followed. The boi was reduced to a blubbering mess of screams and tears and howling agony. The Doctor stepped in.
The Big-dicked Man was respectful of the Doctor, but reassured him that the boy would live. After a quick examination, the Doctor nodded and stepped back into the shadows. In the meantime, the Big-dicked Man had exchanged implements and brandished the Abrasor in the air, warming up.
With not much more ceremony than that, He laid two final sharp blows across the boys ass, making it a total of six angry stripes on his ass. his feet bore two angry purple/red soles. The boy screamed and sobbed, his body seemed to shake uncontrollably. At some point, he'd pissed himself again.
The Big-dicked Man strutted up to the boy's head and lifted it up high, forcing the boi to strain hard to breathe. "Almost done, boi, just one more lasting reminder" He sneered and then spat in his face. He dropped his head like a melon and walked back behind him.
Guns handed him something that looked like a soldering iron. Pecs leaned into me and explained that it was an electric branding iron. The Doctor stepped in and cleaned a space on the boi's back, a few inches below his right shoulder. i could smell the antiseptic and i shivered with fear. Pecs put His hands on my shoulders and held me steady.
The boi shrieked and convulsed as not just one, but two branding marks were seared into his flesh. Two marks to signify his twice bad behavior. i wondered how many more he'd endure before he gave up or learned. he passed out. While the Doctor attended to him, the Big-dicked Man addressed the crowd.
"Masters, thank you for bringing your bois here tonight to see what will happen if they opt to step so far out of line as this recalcitrant slave. Bois, pay attention. This boi will not walk on his feet for, at least, two weeks, and then he will step very gingerly. his ass will carry these stripes for a good four months, the brand will remind him forever. Tonight, Masters, read the contract to your bois, help them understand that this is completely avoidable in many ways. Thank you again, for coming." He closed and took a seat.
Master after Master followed the same routine on leaving. They paid their respects to the Big-dicked Man, their slaves kissing His bulging cod-piece or licking His boots while they extolled the virtues of His service. Several Masters congratulated Master Joe and wished him well on this journey with young flesh. Master Joe's other bois busied themselves, cleaning up the mess their brother created and helping the Doctor as needed. Guns and the other Man unstrapped the guilty boi once the Doctor had treated the brand marks with a salve and bandage where the skin was broken or burned.
The boi was far to weak to stand, Guns carefully hoisted the limp body over His big muscled shoulder and hauled him away. Pecs explained that the Doctor would carefully monitor the boi's recovery, but two weeks was probably a minimum, before he'd stand solidly again. Bastinado was an extreme punishment. My mind flashed back to the sampling of it, that the Big-dicked Man had given me in the desert. In retrospect, that was nothing compared to this.
We waited and chatted quietly until everyone had moved back upstairs. Pecs seemed to lovingly rub my shoulders and head while He waited with me. It felt really good and i nuzzled His bulging crotch in return.
"Let's make sure the boi gets a little use upstairs," the Big-dicked Man said to Pecs, "and then load him up and haul him to the compound. I'll be there by midnight, I want him strung up and ready for the screws when I get there." He reached down, roughly grabbed the collar, and pulled me to my knees.
"You're a good boi and a fast learner, I've been told," He sneered at me. "Weekends are hell in this program, but you'll survive, bitch, I knew that from my first look at you in the desert. Listen close to my Men on the drive, they have some important stuff to tell you."
With that, He yanked me up to my feet and higher, my feet barely touched the floor. My windpipe was completely cut off and i started to panic. i felt His big hand tighten around my balls and then He let me down slightly, just enough to breathe. Squeezing my balls hard, He emphasized His point, uttering the word "hell" in my face.
Then He dropped me to the floor. i scrambled to kiss His big black boots and express my gratitude for His work on me. His boots were shiny with boi spit and i diligently added mine to the mix. He said some words to Pecs or Guns or someone and then kicked me off of Him.
Pecs attached the leash to my collar and hauled me away.