Please consider making a kind donation to keep Nifty going strong.
Stories of The Slave Center The Nation's Leading Retailer of Trained Faggots _______________________
Master and His Pack Mule Part Twelve
Disclaimer: This is a story of erotic fiction containing fantasy descriptions of Male-male slavery, which may include sexual acts, BDSM and nudity. It is a intended for adults only. You must be of legal adult age to read this work. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
I heard a soft beeping. I was slowly coming awake. The beeping was getting stronger, and I began to hear the stirring of bodies. "Time to wake up, slaves," came a hearty man-voice. I tried to roll over, but the chains kept me right where I was, as they had all night.
My mind was waking up. The beeping sound reached its peak, then suddenly stopped. "Stations!" I heard that hearty voice again. What station could I assume? I was bound and had nowhere to go.
As I lay there, I continued to hear the stirring of slaves as they, apparently, readied themselves for their Master's day. I heard strapping, the sound of soft leather hitting flesh, of slaves getting their customary morning discipline, swats on the bums that served as their wake up call. As on the night before, judging by the sounds the slaves were making, it seemed that some loved the discipline and some did not.
I found myself still bound but as erect as I could be. Ah, I felt so alive, and my cock was showing it. I didn't have a hard on for sex. I had a hard on for life, and it felt glorious. I felt as if my entire body was one giant erection, a flow of positive energy, a desire to live and be as I am, in slavery.
I heard the front gate of the building being opened, and slaves must have begun to file out, for the noises I had been hearing were leaving the room.
"So, this is the visiting faggot, eh?" I heard a new voice. "I hope it got enough sleep, because I know it's in for a busy day."
The man unlocked the gate to my stable and entered. I got my first glimpse of him (well, of his ass, anyway) as he squatted down on my face, planting his asshole on my mouth. What a great way to start the day! There's no smell more appealing to a slave than the musk of a man's ass crack. As he stood over my head and began to squat, I saw that he was wearing chaps and cowboy boots, and nothing else. He was bare chested and bare-assed.
"Good morning, slave," he said to me as he smashed his hole onto my mouth and then moved it all over my face. I, of course, did my part and sniffed and licked and kissed and suckled. "That's it, faggot. Know your place. Faggots worship men and are lucky to be right where they are."
He continued for a minute or two and then stood up, brought his cowboy boots right up against my ears, holding my head still. He started talking: "Slave, I am one of your Overseer Masters today. Everything I say goes, instantly. You have nothing to do but obey, ever. You have no other concern other than obedience. There is nothing else for you. Just obey, right away, and all will be fine, slave. And I know you'll be happy."
He stepped back and motioned for an attending slave I hadn't even noticed to begin unlocking my chains. When the slave finished, my Overseer Master ordered me to get on all fours. I did so, and he further ordered me to have my knees spread to shoulder width or slightly more. Then he ordered me to place my head on the ground, on the earthen material on which I had slept all night, and to place my arms way out in front of me. Thus, I was there with my ass way up.
"Now, don't move. Accept what is yours," my master stated. Wham! He landed a paddle squarely on my ass, hard. Wham! Again the paddle struck. Wham! Again. "Good slave," he said. "The next few are really going to hurt, but they will make you a better slave." Wham! He brought the paddle, or whatever it was, for I could not see it, upon the lower part of my ass and the tops of the back of my legs. Wham! Again.
I think he then hooked that paddle to his waist belt, and I thought it was all over. But then he said, "Reach back and spread those ass cheeks to show me my slave asshole." I did as ordered. Wham! It must have been a riding crop, or a cane? I don't know what it was, but it hurt. Wham! I quivered and nearly let go of my ass cheeks. "Hold on, slave. Show me that that asshole is mine. I've got a few more to give you, right on that hole." Wham, wham, wham! He struck three more times, and it was all I could do to remain in position. It hurt, a lot. "That's my asshole, and you have no say in what happens to it or how it feels, slave. Just breathe, and you'll be fine."
He stepped away from me a bit, then he said, "What does a slave do when its master gifts it with discipline?"
"Thank you, Master!"
"Good, but not only with words, slave. Show me some proper gratitude."
I turned and quickly crawled to his boots. I kissed them, licked them, slobbered all over them, all the while saying, "Master, thank you, Master," repeatedly.
He accepted this as good, normal, natural, proper.
As my penned up energy to show my gratitude wound down, I moved to a proper kneeling position before him and looked up at his face, for the first time. I noticed he was handsome, very much so. Lucky me! He had a fairly hairy chest, and a full treasure trail ran down to his untrimmed pubes and half hard cock. He was beautiful, and I yearned to please him by being good at slavery. Are you good at slavery? It comes naturally to me.
I admired his cock and already felt the worship building up inside of me, and I hoped to earn the privilege of drinking from him. Ah, such are faggot dreams.
My ass cheeks and asshole burned from his attentions, and I liked it. My gratitude to him was sincere. This seemed a good way to start the day.
"Get the slave fed and prepped for the day," he told the attending slave.
"Master, yes, Master," came the ready response.
The slave took me to a corner of the building where there was a cement floor with a drain and showering facilities. Or, more notably, hoses with which to clean a slave inside and out. The slave hosed me down briefly and then inserted the hose up my ass. "We're going to get you completely cleaned out, slave, so you can wear your tail all day today."
When I was thoroughly cleaned out, the slave took me to eat breakfast. There was a trough along the back side of the cell structure where I had slept overnight. The slave told me to eat my fill. I got down on all fours and put my head into the trough. I ate up the bland meal. I didn't know what was in it and didn't care. What I was fed was a responsibility belonging to my masters, and not to me.
The slave wiped my face down with a wet rag and then said, "Now, let's get you kitted out for your labor. You own a lot of labor, slave, and Master Aidan isn't pleased if slave doesn't take care of all its labor for the day."
He led me toward another part of the building, sort of out in the open and near all the pillories, to a kind of hitching post. He hitched me to it by my nose ring, leaving me only about 2 feet of chain between my nose and the post. I could do nothing but stand there.
My Overseer Master came back to me and began getting me ready for whatever it was I'd be doing.
The first thing he did was make sure that thing he had measured me for last night, that little harness that went around my waist and attached to my cock to keep it in an upright position, was on right. Then, he rather quickly inserted a hefty butt plug up my ass. I squirmed in delight. A blond pony tail trailed from my ass. A strap then went from the waist band of the harness down my ass crack and through a ring at the base of my butt plug. The strap then diverted into two straps, to go around my genitals, and these connected back up to my harness waistband. My Overseer Master meant for that plug to stay in me all day with no possibility of falling out, or being pushed out.
Then my Overseer Master made some connections I didn't know were possible with the harness around my waist and groin. He attached my wrist cuffs to the waist band, right at my sides, with no slack at all, locking my hands right at my sides. Then, to my surprise, he lifted my balls, with their 3 inch steel stretcher, and attached a strap from the part of the harness holding my cock upright to the ball stretcher. Thus, my balls were hefted up and sticking straight out in front of me rather than hanging down. "Don't run into anything today, slave. The first point of contact will be your Master's slave-balls. See how nicely they're sticking straight out?" With that, my Overseer Master gave them a good hit with his hand, sending shockwaves through my body and the air right out of my lungs.
"Good, slave. It's going to work very hard today, isn't it? Just nod your answer," he said, as he placed the bit in my mouth, the one he had tried out on me last night. The bar went from side-to-side across my mouth while the tongue plate went over my tongue and then curled down just a bit at the base of my tongue, where it turned down my throat. I was effectively muted.
The rest of the device went over my scalp, as it did last night. My whole head felt caged.
Then he placed a harness on my torso that went over my shoulders, around my body, and, finally, attached to the smaller harness already around my waist and groin. I was certainly now harnessed up to do something, though I knew not what.
My cock may have been hard, and it may have been largely soft. With it locked into its upright position, I couldn't be too sure.
I had wondered, sort of, why he wanted my cock sticking up at all times, and I was just about to find out. My PA ring was removed, giving my Overseer Master easy access to my urethra. He squirted some lube right into my dick. Then, he began sliding a stainless steel tube into me. It went into my cock some inches. Then, he locked it on utilizing my PA piercing. About 6 or 7 inches of the steel tube protruded right out of my dickhead and up past my navel. I didn't quite know what was happening until the Master Overseer made the final attachment. "Master Aidan's pony flag. You'll be flying his flag all day, slave, so make him proud."
I looked down as best I could and saw that I was indeed flying a flag out of my dick. The flag was about 5 inches by 7 inches. As it was hanging down and kind of crumpled together, I couldn't get a good look of the design of the flag, but I noted the flag was largely sky blue, white, and an earth tone kind of brown.
I thought my Master Overseer was finished and that I was kitted out for the day, but then he came and attached clamps to my pain nub nipples. They pressed firmly and woke me up just a little bit more.
"You have one question and one question only on your mind today, slave. And that is: is Master Aidan's slave working hard enough, constantly enough, strongly enough, for him? That's it. Nothing else. That's the only thing you are to be concerned about, period. You are a piece of property on this ranch, and your only concern is making sure that this property works for its owner as he requires. It's all very simple, and I know you'll be fine, slave. I can feel it."
I still didn't know what I'd be doing all day long, but I also understood that, as a slave, that that was none of my concern.
"Okay, slave. You are ready to get to work. Now, today, and everyday you are here, once you are properly kitted out and released from the hitching post, you are to run to your assigned station. You don't have to run at full speed, but you will run at a good pace, showing you are enthusiastic, energetic, and ready to slave the day away. Anything less will be seen as an act of disobedience. For as long as you are on this ranch, that body you are in is the property of Master Aidan, and he requires that body to labor. Your job is to know that you are living in a body that your Master owns and that your only responsibility is to direct that body as ordered. You have no choice or freedom to do anything else, slave, but to be an obedient property."
He detached the chain from the hitching post that led to my snout ring. Then, he detached it from my snout ring. He patted my face with his hand, kind of firmly, kind of playfully. "This property is going to do the only thing it is allowed to do: to serve Master Aidan. Just keep the right worshipful attitude, and you'll be fine. And, don't worry, I'll be out there with you as your Overseer, with my whip at the ready should you fall below Master Aidan's standards of proper slave labor. But I know already that you seek to please your master, that you love pleasing your master, so just do what you do naturally, slave."
He took a moment to look me right in the eyes, and then he spit in my face. He took his right hand and rubbed his saliva all over my face.
"Now, out the front door and to the right you will see a flagpole with Master Aidan's flag flying. That is your starting point every morning while you are here. You will see other slaves kitted up like yourself. When I say `dismissed', you are to run to your assigned post. Got it, slave? Good. Dismissed!"
I darted toward the wide open doorway. It was odd running with my arms bound at my side, with Master's flag flying from a pole in my dick, and with my tail swishing around behind me, but I managed a good pace. I didn't want Master Aidan to be disappointed with me as a slave on my first day, after all."
I came out the doorway and into the sunshine. I turned to my right and immediately saw the large flagpole and flag. Then, catching me totally off guard, I noticed Master Joe standing near my pathway toward the flagpole and my assigned place to be. He was filming me! "There's our slave! Keep running, faggot, and work hard today! Make us all proud to own you!"
I kept up my pace all the way to the flag pole, which was about 50 yards out from the doorway. When I got there, I was already a little out of breath and beginning to sweat. An Overseer guided me to my position, in one of two lines of slaves kitted out like myself. I was in the right row and second from the front. In the end, we would total six slaves placed in two lines of three.
The overseer grabbed the chain between the clamps on my nipples, on my glorious faggot pain nubs. He jerked the chain up and said, "Chest out, slave!" Then he put the tip of his riding crop below my chin and lifted my face. "A good slave is always alert and proud, so keep this property's head up. Let everybody see the face of a proud and devoted work-slave."
He then rested the tip of that riding crop right on top of my balls, which, as you may remember, were sticking straight out in front of me, being held up and out by that harness around my waist, which held the 3-inch ball stretcher around my nuts horizontal so that my balls were well out front and available. "Feet!" was all he said. I understood, as I had noticed how the other slaves were standing, and spread my legs wider apart, planting my feet at shoulder width. "Better," the overseer said. Now, don't move an inch, slave. He then lifted the riding crop from my balls and brought it back down, hard. I may have let out a big breath, or a gasp, but I didn't double over or move my feet at all. "Good slave, but don't make me have to tell you again. A slave stands in proper position first time and every time. There is no room for slave failure on Master Aidan's ranch."
I was breathing heavily now, at that seemed like a good thing. I felt alive and energetic, ready to start my day. I'm pretty sure my dick got hard in its harness, and I felt so proud. Why shouldn't I feel proud of what I am, a faggot eagerly participating in my own enslavement? As it should be.
When we are as we naturally are, no matter what that is, we feel good. And I was feeling good about my slavery, feeling lucky to have men willing to take charge of me, to master me, to find uses for me, to their own benefit. As a property, that is what I'm for; that is my purpose.
The other slaves in formation with me were just standing there, still waiting. There was a slave yet to arrive. All I had to do was be still and wait, like the other slaves were doing, but I also admired the Overseer in front of me and yearned to earn his approval of me as an obedient service animal on this ranch. I was filled with the desire to serve. I found myself chomping at my bit, literally. I was sure my cock was rock hard now.
The Overseer noticed my stance, my eagerness shining through, and my hard on. He walked along my side and said, "Good boy," rather softly, though meaningfully, at least to my ears, and rubbed his hand along my right shoulder and upper arm. Such a loving caress, and it only made me want to please him that much more.
I know there are still many in our country opposed to the nationwide Real Slave Program. I know there are still those groups who protest outside many locations of The Slave Center. But I am so grateful for the Real Slave Program, for it allows me to be me, real and true.
Here I was outside and naked on a small private ranch. A tail was sticking out my ass, my cock was hard, and my heart and lungs were full of life. What could be better? Some good men were taking responsibility for me and directing me in all my actions, ensuring I was to live true to myself and spend my time in a useful fashion for them. I was free as a bird. What had I to worry about? My goals and responsibilities were simple, and the one way to achieve them was to simply obey, happily, spontaneously, naturally, for them, and, as it happens, for me, for I loved it. This way of living satisfied my soul.
I remembered then something that Master Joe had said to me: "Don't worry about your Daily Slave Evaluations. Just obey, and the rest will follow." Perhaps I was beginning to understand what he meant.
My asshole was stuffed with a large plug. My snout ring hung over my lips. My pain nubs felt the constant glory of the clamps my Overseer Master had placed on them. I was a muted beast, as the bit and tongue plate made speech impossible. My balls were thrust forward and held there, making the most vulnerable part of my anatomy the easiest target for any Overseer. And a steel rod had been buried the length of my cock and was sticking up high, supporting Master's flag. What more could I want out of life?
Oh, yes, the yearning to serve and worship. I had no shortage of that. In fact, I had never felt the need to serve and worship so strongly. A good faggot loves its good masters, and I was feeling more love than ever before. I thought of my Master Matt. I hoped he was having a great vacation, but I also longed for his return, so that I could see him, hear him, smell him, serve him, worship him, obey him. But I was obeying him right now, for didn't he tell me to be a good faggot while he was away? I knew that by serving the Masters and Overseers with me now I was also serving my Master Matt, that that is what he wants for me to do, that that is how I keep him proud to own me. I just allow myself to be more of the obedient faggot I naturally am, and the more I am appreciated and cared for, the more I am allowed to live and feel full of life, enabled and empowered to live as I truly am.
The last of the slaves arrived and was placed right behind me. We were now six, all outfitted in the same manner, all with tails, bits, harnesses, balls protruding out forward, and flags. When my eyes scanned the ranch land around me, I noticed that only we six sported Master Aidan's flag. Perhaps the flag is for tailed animals only.
"Okay, slaves, now that we're all here: I am Overseer Master Steven, but all you need to know is that I am your Master today. You look to me for everything, absolutely everything. I am your existence. And this is Overseer Master Jack. He will be helping me today, especially when we have to separate one or more of you from the labor herd. Most of you know me, and you know that I tolerate nothing. And I love my job. Faggots are born to labor for men. Seems clear as day to me. So, remember: I expect 100% today: 100% effort, 100% obedience, 100% focus. Nothing else exists for you but the orders you are to carry out. Isn't that right, slaves?"
I noticed the other slaves nodding their heads up and down, or actually their entire torsos, thus answering yes. So, I joined in, lowering and lifting my upper body in dramatic fashion, showing my animal nature as well as my emphatic understanding of my place as slave.
Overseer Master Steven continued: "We have one new slave here today. It will only be here for 3 days, but while here it will be part of this labor herd. If anyone ever needs to call it by name, it responds to "mule", I am told. Right, Master Jack?"
"That's what I've heard, but I haven't had a reason to call it by any name yet. Slave' and faggot' work fine for me."
Master Jack is the one who kitted me out for the day. Somehow, I felt it comforting to know that he'd be overseeing my slavery today.
A slave came running up, knelt before Overseer Master Jack, and handed him something. Once Master Jack took the item, the slave kissed his hand, was dismissed, and ran back to wherever it belonged.
Master Jack came right up to me and started spraying me with something and rubbing it all over my skin. I soon found out it was merely a sunblock. "Wouldn't want the slave sunburned, you know," Master Jack said as he applied it to my slave body.
Master Steven and Master Jack had a very brief private conversation, and then my workday began in earnest.
"Okay, now that we are ready to put the slaves to work, there is only one last thing to take care of." Master Steven called me to the front of the small pack of slave animals. There I stood: my balls sticking straight out in their stretcher, a flagpole and flag sticking out of my dick, and the rest of me bound for whatever services I'd soon be performing. "Kneel, mule," he ordered, and I kneeled, facing my fellow slaves, and Overseer Master Steven began addressing the pack.
"This is your new slave brother for the next few days, and before we put you all to your work, we are going to get an idea what this slave is all about, as we all need to be on common ground, with a shared vision of what is required of slaves on Master Aidan's ranch." He stepped over to be at my side and to address me directly. "Mule, after each statement, nod to your slave brothers in the affirmative that you understand and that you commit to your slavery and to your fellow slave laborers." He turned back to the pack of waiting slaves and began:
"The slave understands that while on this ranch, it is the property of Master Aidan and of this ranch. It may not leave the ranch, and it may not do anything outside of what it is ordered to do."
In my keeling position, I nodded my whole torso in the affirmative.
"The slave understands that as a slave here on this ranch its function is to serve Master Aidan and the ranch in complete obedience and that, as a slave, it has no other function or purpose or value."
Again, I nodded my whole torso.
"The slave understands that its standing order is to labor constantly, appreciatively, energetically, efficiently... up to the work standards of Master Aidan and in accordance with all ranch slave-labor regulations."
I listened carefully and knew the only answer I could give was in the affirmative. So, I nodded again. So far, the expectations being put upon me didn't seem too difficult.
"The slave understands that its truest source of pleasure and pride lies in working for its masters in order to maintain a positive evaluation as a good and appropriately functional slave at all times."
Again I nodded, perhaps more deeply this time.
"The slave understands that its life-energy and its body are both the property of Master Aidan and will be used as such, and that anything other than pure servility will not be tolerated."
I'm pretty sure I was erect at this time, which may have made Master Aidan's flag fly more noticeably. I nodded, deeply, of course.
"The slave commits to laboring on this ranch in full slavery and to becoming a proud animal what will wave the flag of this ranch with all its pride and love."
I nodded deeply, bringing my forehead nearly to the ground. Upon rising back up, I thrust my pelvis out, thus putting my balls way out front, signifying my surrender unto my own desires, and waving Master's flag as highly as I possibly could.
"And, finally, the slave understands that all of the aforementioned is what a faggot needs and deserves, that faggot-enslavement is good, and fair, and right."
I nodded again and rose back to my kneeling position, flag still waving proudly.
I thought the proceedings were finished, but Overseer Master Steven ordered me to stand. He made sure my feet were placed well apart. Then, to my great surprise, he took the bit out of my mouth and told me to drink from the water bottle he held up to my lips. When I finished drinking, he said, for all present to hear: "Lastly, slave, in your own words, though you may borrow from those we've just used, commit to your slave brothers and to being worthy of being accepted into this herd, acknowledging openly that labor-slavery is what's right for you, and that you will work as hard as they do."
I hesitated a little bit, partly out of surprise and partly out of not being sure where to start, but soon I looked out over my pack of slave brothers and spoke:
"I am a slave, for slavery comes naturally to me. I am happy to be here learning to be a better slave and to find a fuller enslavement. I seek to labor with everything I am in service of Master Aidan and his Overseers. It is my right and duty to serve my masters. Please accept me into this pack of slaves, as one of you, and we will work together to serve our Master as he deserves and as he requires of us. I love my slavery like I love my Master. I am grateful to our Master Aidan for granting me enslavement on his ranch and for developing me into a better slave that requires me to serve with all that I am. Thank you, Master Aidan."
When I had finished, the slave pack, muted with the bits in their mouths, grunted and nodded their torsos in acceptance and appreciation of what I had said. I felt accepted into their fold.
"Good, that's done. Now get back in formation, slave." Somehow, even without a verbal order to do so, I truly hurried my ass to my assigned place with the enthusiasm the men on this ranch require and deserve. My dick was throbbing hard now, and Master Aidan's flag flew in the mild morning breeze.
Overseer Master Steven wasted no time in getting the bit back into my mouth.
With the bit back in its proper place, I took a deep breath of the fresh morning air. I loved being outside. I felt in my element. Free to be me, as they say. How many alive today can say they are free to be themselves at all times?
I began to chomp on my bit, lightly at first, then with a bit more gusto. My tongue felt securely held by the long tongue plate. I was even growing to like how long it was and that it dipped into my throat a bit.
I kept my head held high, as slaves here are required to do, and looked at Overseer Master Steven. He suddenly seemed like the most beautiful man on the planet. He was fairly average, actually, but a slave, when feeling its slavery deeply, finds its master beautiful, because he is.
I was now feeling my old familiar desire, strongly, overwhelmingly. What desire? The only valid desire a slave has: the wish to serve its master. The need to be allowed to serve, to be guided to serve, ordered to serve, required to serve. The need to have its services be welcomed, needed, appreciated, wanted, expected, taken for granted, utilized, demanded. Always demanded, fully. Ah, that's my happy place! I show men I love them with my slavery.
Let me love a deserving master with everything I am. I crave that kind of intimacy.