This story is (C)Copyright 2005, by TM. All World Wide Rights Reserved. This story may not be sold or made part of any collection without prior written permission.
Sail Away Chapter Thirty One
The video had only been playing for about a minute, when I felt Master gently
manipulating my butt plug. The soft and rhythmic motion of the plug seemed to make me feel tingly all over.
After several long minutes of slowing twisting, tugging and pushing on the plug, my Master eased it out of my tunnel. I was trying my very best to pay attention to the video; as Master was explaining the rules which he had in place
pertaining to any and all slaves who either worked on the plantation or who were to live here. They seemed simple and easy enough to follow; at least for now they did.
I felt Master inserting what I believed to be one of his fingers into my body, just as the video was describing some of the more 'sexually intimate' situations I would eventually find myself in. However, I was so sure, or confident, that what he called a 'rim job' was something that I wanted to, or even would, consider intimate.
As my Master worked a second finger into my tunnel, that magical, mystical, feeling began to flood over my entire body. I don't know what he was doing, but I do remember the first time that this same identical feeling overcame my resistance to slavery. I could feel him pressing down with one of his fingers, onto something rather hard just inside my body. His second finger followed, as both of them were now not just pressing firmly, but also in a back and forth motion.
It was becoming more and more difficult to watch, let alone listen, to the video. I found myself closing my eyes and actually enjoying whatever it was that Master was doing to me. I quickly realized that I didn't want this feeling to ever stop.
My pleasure balls began to ache, probably because of the steel bindings; but possibly due to what I discovered was my thing starting to rise up. The discomfort caused by my pending erection, seemed a distant second to the rush of euphoria my tunnel was providing me.
I was struggling to pay attention to the video, hearing more than I was actually seeing. Master was saying things like learning to bath him, shave him, toilet assistance, dress him and a myriad of other things; which seemed insignificant at the time.
I felt fingers, now at the edge of my tunnel; gently tugging and pulling the flesh back. It seemed as if they were sliding around the rim of my tunnel, at
the same time the other fingers were dancing inside of me. There was pressure and discomfort each time Master bent his finger (s) and pulled on my opening, which didn't feel to be lasting to long; perhaps overshadowed only by the motions going on inside of my tunnel.
My entire body began to shake and quiver. My hips seemed to be moving in a motion very similar to when I would have been fucking some girl. I could feel the cold beads of sweat sticking to my skin, as my thing continued to bounce up and down with every movement of my hips.
I could feel my tunnel getting full, as Master apparently had inserted a third finger; and the tugging and pulling continued on at a more rapid pace. By the time Master had placed his fourth finger inside my tunnel, he refrained from using his other hand. Four fingers seemed to be all I could take or even wanted. Master began to twist his hand, first to the left and then to the right; over and over, in silence, as several times I was sure that I was going to pass out or have heart failure.
Not more than two minutes had passed, and I found myself vocalizing, guttural
sounds known to many a man. I could feel the blood beating in my thing, as sperm raced its' way down through my shaft, past the two piercings and erupting in a sea of white, foamy strings, running down the steel ring at the end of my thing. I thought for a second that I'd been electrocuted; for the mere fact that my entire body shook, bound or not, as I even heard the rattle of the four chains holding me in place.
My body went limp, almost like a wet spaghetti noodle; with a great portion of my weight now relying on my chained wrists to hold me up. I felt the fingers gingerly ease their way out of my tunnel; as they were presented, next, to my mouth in order that I may suck and lick them clean for my Master.
I remember distinctly, that I sucked and licked them all clean; finding myself with four fingers inside my mouth, stretching my jaws to capacity. It didn't seem to have any effect on me; which was really rather strange, as to suck and lick the fingers was something which I had not expected. But when I remembered that some of my education included having my butt plug shoved into my mouth, the situation didn't seem to revolting after all.
Master must have been pleased with my progress, as the fingers didn't remain wedged between my jaws for too long. I could see the lower half of Master as he once again walked towards the cabinets, the video still playing.
He returned and held up, under my face, the last butt plug which had been in my tunnel, still coated in grease and slime; and along side that plug, he held another one, which was bigger than the last one.
The grease and slime covered plug was rubbed over my lips, until Master placed the tip of it against my lips; which indicates to a slave that your Master desires you to open your mouth. I swallowed hard and opened my mouth, allowing Master to ease the rancid plug deeper and deeper in my mouth; even passing over my tongue piercing.
It soon became apparent where the larger plug was going, and I tried, I honestly tried, to relax and accept the fate. I couldn't take the width of the plug without experiencing a great deal of pain; signifying same by trying to scream through the plug in my mouth.
Once the pain subsided, my tunnel entrance seemed to be quivering; attempting to adjust itself to the wider latex plug. My Master came around to face me; commanding, no yelling at me to look him in the eyes. "Haven't you even learned one simple fucking rule yet?" Master shouted at the top of his voice. I was in a daze, trying quickly to think of what the hell I possibly could have done that would have pissed of my uncle.
Master held up his smaller version of the slave prod, which I knew was about to strike some part of my body; just about the same time as my mind reverted back to school. 'A slave never, ever, creams his thing without permission.'
I watched the prod as Master lowered it, finally out of my sight; and the first indication as to where it was headed was simply to watch the movement of my Masters' eyes. My right ball got shocked first, as Master seemed to really hold the prod there for a few seconds. Then my left ball felt the wrath of my Master, and I had no idea that the pain would have, could have, been so intense.
Any and all of my pleading and begging went unnoticed behind my stuffed mouth, as each ball was treated to a second helping of electrical current. I saw Master step aside, and then I felt my bladder release a stream of piss. I just fucking knew that I was in for more torture. I began to cry like a newborn baby; and I wasn't sure if it was my crying or something else that caused my Master not to inflict more pain, for the time being.
"Simply disgusting slave, simply unacceptable. We are going to have to work long and hard to assure that such infractions never occur again". Master said in a toned down voice which almost seemed as if he was displeased with me, or even disappointed in his choice of having me as his personal sex slave.
I did the best I could at gathering up my emotions, putting myself on alert that I hadn't been here a day yet; and I already seem to be a tragic disappointment to my Master.
Hell, I couldn't even focus on the video which was still playing; still with my Master speaking. I knew that a lot of the video had passed by without me even noting what he had been saying. The one thing I knew for sure was that if I have missed anything which I shouldn't have; that an instructional lesson on pain tolerance would be administered.
The cottage door sprung open and since I couldn't turn my head; I could only assume that Jordan and Master Doc had returned. "Holy fuck! What in the hell happened here? Please don't tell me that we have a wimp assed pussy boy on our hands." I knew immediately that Master Doc was in the cottage.
The next thing I knew was that Jordan was scampering over, on hands and knees, lapping up anything and everything that was on the floor beneath me. After several minutes of licking the floor clean, Jordan knelt upright and began licking my Prince Albert; cleaning it of the drying slave sperm which I'd so thoughtlessly allowed to happen. How could I have been such an ass of a slave to upset my Master so easily and quickly?
I knew he wasn't going to be a 'push over' of a Master, but I wasn't sure if or even possible, that he would equate my body as that of his nephew; or was I going to simply remain his slave.
"I can't believe you have waited this many years, just to have a slave sperm and piss without permission. Just because he was once related to you, you seemed to have forgotten that such disrespect deserves more than just a simple and bland prodding."
"Yes, I'm aware that I was too easy on the slave, but I'm sure that once I've
had a good night's rest that things will change drastically. And just because he was related to me, doesn't have any bearing on what I have planned for him. He will still receive the training as you and I have outlined. He will learn everything, unless he wants to feel the hot blade slicing off his worthless balls. Will we make him the finest sex slave in the land, even if it takes me the rest of my life to achieve the goal. Not to mention the fact that his former father will be envious of how well the slave is trained in all aspects of his new surroundings. Least not we forget his former mother, who immediately ostracized me from the family went I got myself into trouble with the New York authorities. If and when she sees the boy again, she will see just how much he has changed and that everything is all nice and legal now; unlike years past; not to mention how much her 'baby' loves his new lifestyle."
"Okay slaves, get yourselves cleaned up and out and get to bed, tomorrow will be here before you know it, " came the command from Master Doc; as he and my Master released me from the chains.
When all was said and done, Jordan and I lay quietly on our beds, chained to them as regulated. I wasn't in any frame of mind to carry a conversation with
Jordan, and he must have felt the same way. I wonder what Master Doc and Jordan had done while they were away from the cottage. I couldn't help but to think that Master Doc had fucked Jordan or made him suck his monster of a cock.
I tried to relax, re-visit the two videos, but I couldn't concentrate all that much. My mind was focused on mom and I began to wonder how she was making out talking to a man about slavery in our society.
What I didn't know, but assumed, mom was talking to Alan's' dad. I wished that I was a fly on the wall, listening to the two of them talking. Knowing my mom, she was asking all the questions and not waiting for the complete answer before she'd be asking another question. For good or for bad, what follows is a minuscule fragment of what I later on found to have transpired.
Q: Is it legal for my husband to have enslaved our son? A: Yes, it is totally legal. Whether the courts sentence some person, male or female to servitude; or as in John Henry's case, being enslaved by a parent while still not reaching twenty years of age is all legal.
Q: Do you think that John Henry will become a good slave and work hard for his owner? A: Most every male that is placed into slavery, becomes a worthwhile investment for his or her owner. In the rare case that the slave fails to perform well for his owner, he or she is generally sold to another person or company that actually reduces them to nothing more than an animal, slaving away eighteen hours a day.
Q: I noticed when I arrived that you have more than the one slave. Do they all live together or do you keep them elsewhere? A: We keep our male slaves in a small building near the rear property line in a small, how should I say, a 'cottage'. The one female slave we have is kept in a nice room in the basement, right next to our own small 'classroom'; which we use for such things as 'enhanced education'.
Q: Now I hate to even bring this up but, John Henry's father has sent me some rather unnerving photos and one video of my son. It appears to me that he is not doing so well. I had a hard time recognizing him without his beautiful hair, not to mention the simple fact that I'd not seem him naked for quite some time. Why do they remove a slaves hair not to mention put all of those pieces of jewelry all of them? A: That is indeed a good question, but to answer it could be complicated; however, I'll do my best to answer your question in the same manner in which it was asked. I am not sure of what photos that you possess, but most all male slaves who are American have their hair removed in the initial stage of enslavement. That is simply to let them know that their normal way of life no longer exists; sort of like giving them a fresh start or a 're-birth'. As for the jewelry your son may be wearing; that is normally done for better control of a slave should the slave become unruly. Some owners, who actually plan for their slaves' future use as a personal servant, will sometimes have a pretty ring placed through the slave's penis, as it adds a certain bit of 'charm' to the slave. And most of the personal servant type slaves are kept naked, so that their bodies and jewelry are seen by all to enjoy.
Q: Well now that you've breached the subject matter, do you have a personal servant here? A: No, not at this time. However, my son wants me to purchase him one. Alan continues to work well in our business and he seems to have little time other than to spend with some of his close friends. A personal servant would allow him more time for his own things in life, other than just work, work and more work. He's the same age as your boy, I think; as I believe Alan had him over once right before the poor lad was sent off. He was a rather handsome specimen if memory serves me correctly.
Q: So how do you come about to get your own slaves? Did you go to a special auction or did you just have to know the right person and just placed an order for one. A: Well, most people go to the slave auctions which are held twice a month in every state in the union. But, I purchased mine from a rather meticulous supplier of slaves around the world.
Q: So if you get your son a personal servant slave, he'll be going around here naked all the time? Won't that be an embarrassment for him? Not to mention your wife; how will she feel about having some naked man on your property. A: First of all, we have a very open and liberal family here. Alan is allowed to go naked any time he desires to or feels that he has too. He has a great body and it is always a pleasure to see him naked, as he takes good care of himself and eats properly too. Most every personal servant, by the time they enter a house fully trained, are adapted to know nothing more than to be naked. To such a slave, clothes make them feel awkward and out of place. To become a personal servant, in its self, is a position few slaves ever achieve; as it takes a tremendous amount of training and their owner has to have a great deal of understanding and patience as their slave learns his new life. But, I will say, that most male servants are well educated in pleasing their master in even sexual ways. Alan, you see is gay; and if I get him a personal servant; that servant will have to be trained in ways which will be pleasing and gratifying to my son. I wouldn't want it any other way for Alan.
"Well, you've certainly given me a few things to think about and I really do appreciate your time and your honest answers. Can I call upon you again, soon, so we can have another of these informative discussions?"
"Yes, Mrs. Morris, you just feel free to come by any time you want to. Our family is here to answer any questions you may have; which I might just add that if you'd like to speak with Alan; I'll arrange his schedule to make him available to you."
Well, mom left Alan's house and drove home in silence, her mind trying to absorb every word and syllable that Allan's father had spoken. I think she even perhaps felt good enough now that she wanted to view the photos once again, and muster up enough fortitude to push the 'play' button on the VCR.
As for Alan's father; well, moms' little Q and A session sparked him to sit down in front of his computer and from his 'favorite places' icon; click on "The Morris School of Slave Training and Acquisitions". It wasn't long before he was once again looking at all of the slaves in the school; stopping to open the one folder on the website marked 'Personal Servants', where he could see all of my photos and even one short video marked "Gratifications'. The last time he'd looked and noticed my picture (s) he had invited Alan to view them as well: but this time, when he got to the bottom of the last page of photo's he was saddened by the big red letters looking like a big hand stamp, the words 'SOLD'.
Pushing a button on the phone and saying, "Alan, would you please come downstairs. I have something important to show you."
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