We're returning to the experience of 115 (Matt Forest) in this Chapter, but now you know that other stories are going to be running parallel with that of 115's as this story is bigger than just what happens to him. This is a story of how another man, 115, has been caught up in an ongoing process of making sex toys for wealthy men around the world. Though the story of 115 is important and will be a focal point, the whole story is much bigger than that. The benefit we achieve from such a methodology is there will be a great deal of variety, so if you read a chapter that doesn't get you off, don't worry, the next one probably will.
As the story will move around some, I'm providing a list of characters, as they become involved in the story, for a quick and easy reference, in case you come across a name, or number, you don't remember.
115 (Matt Forest): 23 yo, 6'2", 195, 9" uncut, Anglo, athletic build, blond hair and blue eyes, straight, single unattached guy getting his life started. (Wearing ball weights)
The Doctor: 41yo, 6'1", 185, Anglo, well defined, short salt and pepper hair and blue eyes, sadist that has developed a way to profit from his sadism.
Trainer: 37yo, 6'4", 215, 10" uncut, Anglo/Latino, muscular but not bulky, dark hair and eyes, sadist that has worked for the Doctor for years running his training stable, hoping to become a partner.
Mr. Watts: 31yo, 5'11", 170, 7" cut, Anglo, athlectic build, dark hair and brown eyes, loves his job scouting for new slaves.
99: 22 yo, 5'8", 175, 6" cut, Anglo, muscular, dark hair and blue eyes, straight, captive for 6 months.
101: 21 yo, 6'4", 225, 12" uncut, Black, heavily musceled, black hair and brown eyes, straight, captive 5 1/2 months.
103: 23 yo, 6'2", 195, 8" uncut, Latino, tall slender and well defined, black hair and brown eyes, gay, captive just over
5 months.
104: 22 yo, 6'2", 190, 7" cut, Anglo, swimmer's build, brown hair and eyes, gay, captive just under 5 months.
105: 24 yo, 5'8", 165, 6" uncut, Iranian, slighter build but very well defined, black hair and eyes, straight, captive 4 1/2
months. (Wearing ball weights)
107: 19 yo, 5'9", 165, 8" uncut, Latino (Captured illegal), athletic build, brown hair and eyes, straight, captive 3 1/2
months. (Wearing ball weights)
109: 23 yo, 6'1", 190, 10" uncut, Black (Ebony), slightly muscular and well defined, straight, captive just over 2 months.
112: 21 yo, 6', 180, 9" cut, Anglo (darkly handsome features), athletic build and well defined with attractive body hair, straight, captive about 6 weeks.
113: 24 yo, 6', 190, 5" cut, Asian, slender but muscular build, black hair and brown eyes, gay, captive almost 1 month. (Wearing ball weights)
Bosses:
Murphy: 32 yo, 6'2", 200, 7.5" uncut, Anglo, muscular, dark features and hairy chest, straight, employed 3 years.
Willis: 33 yo, 6'1", 205, 7" cut, Black, muscular, black hair and eyes, gay, employed 3.5 years.
Martin: 31 yo, 6'3", 215, 8" uncut, Anglo, very muscular, lt. brown hair and green eyes, straight, employed 2.5 years.
Samuels: 34 yo, 6'2", 205, 8" cut, Anglo, muscular, blond hair and green eyes, gay, employed 2 years.
Jackson: 33 yo, 6'4", 210, 8" uncut, Anglo, very muscular, brown and brown, straight, employed 3 years.
Holt: 28 yo, 6'2", 200, 7.5 " uncut, Anglo, muscular, blond hair and blue eyes, straight, employed 1 year.
I continue to hope that you're enjoying the read, and always enjoy hearing from you with ideas or suggestions. Please remember if you write me to tell me where you're from, I'm amazed at how spread out we are. I also enjoy hearing from younger slaves looking for an older Master with a great imagination and more to offer.......:)
Sex Toy Enslavement Chapter 6
As 115 walked back to his cell with several other slaves, he felt as if he were in a haze. Too much had happened too quickly for his body or his psyche to absorb. It was only yesterday morning that he'd been running on his morning jog and was being admired by the women on their smoking break........only yesterday. It was only yesterday that he had leaned over into a limo to say "no thanks," to a guy about a modeling job, and somehow had fallen out of his world into Hell. And so far, in his brief stay in Hell, he'd been fucked more times than he'd actually fucked anybody else in all his twenty three years. Since fucking yesterday!!!
He caught himself. It didn't do any good to go off like that in his mind. He was in a dangerous situation, and he needed to stay present, not only for his own protection, but to watch for a chance.......any chance......to get away from here. Of course, now that this permanent collar had been installed around his neck he wasn't sure how that was going to happen. As the Boss who installed the collar had explained to him, if he went too far from the transmitter located in the building, the collar would explode, decapitating him instantly. He wasn't sure yet if he believed the guy, but the really bad news was that so far everything they'd said about his situation seemed to be true. He hoped he might get more info from 104 or one of the other slaves this evening, but even more he hoped there would be no more welcoming rituals when they got back to their cells.
The day had been one miserable, painful and humiliating experience after another. Considering that 115 was never really naked very much, not even when he was home alone, the constant nudity was an emotional drain. He wondered if he would ever get as used to it as most of the other slaves appeared to be, he couldn't imagine that, but then wondered if they'd ever thought they would be comfortable naked all the time. He had already learned to never cover himself with his hands. Samuels, one of the Bosses, had slapped his hand away from his cock and balls and then slapped him soundly across the face and told him he was never to cover himself when there were real men present. That a real man was privileged to enjoy the full view of a slave at all times. The sting of the slap had hurt enough, but the burning humiliation of knowing that he was to always be on full view for the pleasure of someone else, left a burning in his spirit that wouldn't cool.
He had been in a group of four slaves for what seemed like most of the day, after his collar had been affixed. The group included 107, who appeared to be the youngest of the slaves, a nice looking Latino youth; 103, the other Latino, but taller, and more of a swimmer's build; and 99, one of the shorter slaves, but very muscular with the palest blue eyes; and himself. They had been exercised earlier in a room that was as well equiped a gym as 115 had seen anywhere. The main difference was that all the machines had chains and ropes attached to them because a slave would be attached to the machine when he was working out. On some of the machines, like the running machines, the pace would be set by the Boss and the machine turned on, and the slave would literally have to keep up with whatever pace was set. 115 soon learned, if the slave fell behind, he would be punished severely. Other machines the slave would be attached to and told to begin the reps and keep at it until told by a Boss to stop. It seemed sometimes the Bosses deliberately forgot to come back in a decent time to tell the slave, and the slave would simply have to keep performing or again face punishment. And all of this would be accompanied by a constant barrage of insults and abuse by the Bosses. The pressure, 115 soon learned, was unrelenting.
After what seemed like the longest workout of his life all four of the slaves were made to kneel, their bodies dripping with sweat and all of them still breathing hard. There were two Bosses there, Samuels, a heavily muscled white guy with a bad temper, and Holt, a strikingly handsome anglo with a beautiful body and a cruel overbearing streak. Holt began to deride them for their lack of effort as he slapped a couple of them and shouted, "You ladies aren't putting in the kind of effort needed to get those lousy bodies of yours into a desirable condition. This slave farm is known for producing some of the most beautiful slaves on the market, and you're not even close to that point yet. Look at you 99," whose beautiful body was dripping sweat, "you're hardly even breathing hard," he said as he slapped 99 across the face. "What do you have to say for yourself you piece of shit, you've been here longer than anyone, if someone doesn't select you soon, the Doctor will be forced to sell you to a whore house and take a loss."
"I'm sorry Boss," 99 cried from his knees, "I'll work harder Boss, I really will."
"Work harder, shit, you'd have to start working before you could work harder you stupid fuck," Holt responded. "Maybe what you need is more incentive, maybe that's what all of you need," he said as he pulled his whipping belt from his side. "Get those asses in the air," he yelled.
115 was at a loss as to exactly what that meant, but he caught on fairly quickly as he saw the other slaves lean their heads down to the floor leaving their asses fully exposed to the whims of this sadist. 115 quickly followed the example of the other slaves and soon felt the sting of the belt across his own ass. Holt continued the assault until all four of the slaves were weeping and begging for forgiveness while promising to do better.
"Well that's just wonderful," Holt sarcastically remarked, "that ya'll are going to do better. If that's the case, you should get a reward, don't you think Samuels?"
"Oh I do, something special I'm thinking, " Samuels laughed.
"Me too," said Holt, "and now I feel badly about whipping their poor asses so hard. Tell you what girls, since your asses are stinging so bad right now I'm going to help you out. Crawl around until you've each got an ass in front of you, hurry up now, get moving."
It was almost impossible since there were only four of them, but no one was going to be the one to mention that to Holt, as they all tried to get an ass in front of them. Quickly, they were pretty much in an almost round configuration so each had an ass in their face.
"Now I want each of you to lick that red hot ass in front of you, and know that that ass is one of your brothers who really appreciates your consideration."
115 had never done anything like this in his entire life, but he knew he'd better start licking 107's ass or they might all pay a more bitter price. Each of the slaves began to lick the ass of the slave in front of them. Licking all around the butt cheeks, hoping that would satisfy Holt, but that was not to be the case.
"As long as ya'll are at it, go ahead and make sure the asshole of the slave in front of you is clean as well. It's awful to have a dirty asshole, so I'm sure your brother would appreciate your consideration," Holt laughed, as he began to make sure that each slave was getting their tongues all over the little cherry in front of them.
"Come on 115, don't make me have to help you. I can promise you, you don't want my help in doing what you're ordered to do." With that 115 gave up trying to lick as far around 107's asshole as he could and just put his tongue all over 107's tight hole. He heard 107 groan a little, and realized why as he felt 99 swirling his tongue around his own asshole. The sensation was unlike any he'd ever experienced. It felt wonderful and like a violation all at the same time. 115 was suddenly glad he had 107's asshole to focus on so he could try to take his attention off the mixed feelings he was having with 99's tongue doing such a great job on his own.
Regardless of his mixed feelings, 115's face was burning with shame and humiliation as the Bosses derided the slaves for being dirty little faggots who got off rimming any guy in front of them. A small part of 115's mind rebelled against the absurdity of what was being said and what was happening, but a greater part was simply lost in the humiliation of licking another man's asshole, and then, in the midst of it all, he noticed the most upsetting reality of all, he realized he was getting hard. He wanted to sink into a hole and disappear, but all he could do was to continue to stick his tongue as far as he could up the asshole in front of him and let the tears fall down his face.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity to 115, he heard Holt snap, "Okay you little fairies, we don't have all day for you to pleasure each other, we've got work to get done. We've got to clean up those pens you live in like pigs." As Holt said this he started slapping them on their backs with his belt and herding them on their hands and knees to the stable area. "Come on little doeggies," he chuckled as if he was a cowboy on the range driving a small herd of cattle. "Let's get a move on to the old corral," he continued, then had an idea, "I've always wanted to drive cattle, so let's hear it girls, make me believe I'm driving cattle across the range.......come on." With that, all four of the slaves began to moo like cows as they felt the crack of the belt on their butts while they were driven on their hands and knees to their next task. It was a little more difficult for 115 and 107 because they both had the ball weights pulling on their nuts as the heavy balls rolled around in random patterns being drug behind them. 115 had almost forgotten about the constant pain he felt between his legs from the weight when he was licking 107's ass, another small blessing he guessed.
When Samuels and Holt got the slaves into the slave quarters they halted their "herd" near the post in the middle of the room. "99, you and 103 get the stuff to clean up this place from the cabinet, and don't you dare get off your knees. Ya'll are going to clean this entire place without getting off your knees to make up for your disappointing workout this morning," Holt commanded. With a slight groan, 99 and 103 crawled to the cabinet at the end of the room which held the buckets and sponges. Filling the buckets at the large utility sink was more difficult from their knees, but not impossible. 107 and 115 crawled behind to get the full buckets and sponges as they started going into the cells in pairs.
This was really the first time 115 had been able to look at one of the cells. They were all pretty much the same. The rack with a thin pad served as the bed. There was a drain in the center of each cell and two large metal bowls, like dog bowls, on the floor against one wall. Against the other wall, two more metal pots with lids were on the floor. 115 began to realize, looking at the two bowls and pots that the conditions were kept minimal and primative. 107, who was with 115 in the cell, whispered to him, "we get our food and water out of the two large bowls, and the covered pots are for our shit and piss, one for each." Other than that the cells were bare concrete and metal. 115 shuddered at the thought that he would be eating off the floor and only a few feet away from where he would be shitting and pissing into metal pots. He hadn't thought it was possible that he could feel worse. He had been wrong.
The routine of cleaning the cells was arduous and demeaning. Each pot had to be carried, while the slave crawled on his knees holding the pots in his hands. Then the pots were emptied at a special drain near the utility sink. The slave had to use his bare hands to make sure everything was out of the pot, then to wash the pot in the sink. Once the pots were clean they were carried back to the cells and inspected by the Bosses. To make sure the pots were clean, the slave would stick his head inside the pot and lick the sides or bottoms. While this was being done, the other slaves were scrubbing the floors of the cells on their hands and knees, using soapy water. Then taking the buckets of soapy water back to the sink, emptying them, filling them with clean water, and carrying that water back to the cell to rinse the floor.
Even if nothing else had been going on, it would have been difficult work on a person's knees, but of course, there was more going on. Holt began a game that each time a slave had some kind of mishap, the slave had to crawl to each of the Bosses, apologise, beg to kiss their cock and balls, then when allowed, suck each cock, lick each ball, and finally, press their tongues into each Boss's piss slit, and profess his undying love for the Boss's cock. And there were many mishaps, the Bosses made sure of it, so one of the slaves was always at each of the Boss's cocks, servicing them. That meant there were only two slaves actually cleaning at any given time, while two other slaves were sucking cocks and licking balls.
When the slaves were about half way through with all the cells, Holt stopped then and remarked to Samuels, "I'm wondering if these cunts are really focused on this job. What do you think Samuels? It seems to be taking them forever to clean out these cells."
"You're right," Samuels remarked casually, "but I think I have something that will help them focus on their work, because obviously their minds have been wandering." With that Samuels went to a cabinet at the other end of the room and came back with four serious butt plugs. "My thinking is if each of them has one of these babies up their cunt their minds won't be so inclined to wander. What do you think Holt?"
"I think you're a fucking genius Samuels, but if you don't mind a suggestion, I think if we added these tit clamps it would really help to do the trick. What do you think."
"I'm always favorably inclined to a friendly amendment to a proposal Holt, and I think that's a great one."
While this little conversation had been going on, all four slaves were on their knees facing the two goons, knowing that they would do whatever they wanted with them. All they could do was resign themselves to the fact that there was going to be a lot of pain in this room during a good part of the day, and they were going to be on the receiving end of all of it.
"115, get over here," Holt ordered, and 115 crawled to where he was on his knees in front of Holt. At least Holt had put some lubricant on the plug before he placed it on the floor between 115's spread knees. "Now I want you to look me in the eyes while you lower yourself onto that plug you little cunt, and while you're doing it I want you to tell me how pleased you are to be fucking yourself for me. Go ahead shithead, start pressing."
115 looked straight into Holt's eyes, as Holt had actually squatted down so their eyes were level. Holt's eye's bore into 115's psyche, and 115 was completely humiliated to be doing this in front of this man. All the while, looking into those cruel eyes, with tears coming out of his own, 115 found himself saying, "I'm so glad you're letting me fuck myself this way Boss. I haven't had such a good fucking since this morning Boss, thank you for thinking of me and allowing me the pleasure of AGHHHHHHH............
115's speech became a groan as Holt kicked his ball weight away, sending it rolling a short distance on the floor until it yanked at 115's balls again, and almost at the same time, attached the butterfly tit clamps to each nipple. "I'm sorry, cunt mouth, I didn't understand that last part," Holt laughed.
"Thank you for allowing me the pleasure of fucking myself in front of you Boss," 115 gasped between clenched teeth and sobs of pain, and with that, 115 felt the wide part of the plug slip past his sphincter and it was in. He was filled again, and he hated it. His face burned with the shame of it, and as if it wasn't enough, Holt started playing with his cock. The touch startled 115 as he looked down and saw Holt's hand gently playing with his cock, he jerked his eyes back up and looked into a face of such cruelty, yet his touch was tender on his hardening dick. Why was he getting hard? Would this ever end?
"Confused are we boi, that's because you're a stupid cunt," Holt practically snarled at 115. "I can cause pain or pleasure boi, and the choice is completely mine. You have absolutely no say in it. Are you beginning to understand your reality you piece of shit," Holt said to an even more confused 115.
"You exist for the pleasure of another man dick breath, period. You don't have to think yet, you only have to obey. There will come a time for you to think about the other man's pleasure, but right now, just get use to giving yourself willingly to the man who has authority over you, and right now, piss mouth, that's me. Do you understand me slave?"
"Yes Boss," 115 gasped out of a confused state of pain and pleasure, "I understand Boss. Please, use me for your pleasure," he added, hoping it would cause Holt to be lenient.
"Oh, I plan on doing that later slave, don't worry about that, but for now, get your plugged ass back to work," he said as he literally pushed 115 off balance and watched him fall to the floor. 115 scrambled to get away from this cruel and sadistic man.
And so it went for 115 and the other slaves as their day continued from one painful ordeal to another. Some of the slaves had become somewhat accustomed to the routine, knowing that when they were working or exercising they were at least not being tormented sexually. It didn't take long for each slave to understand that their future was one of sexual pleasure for the man that purchased them, and if that man was a sadist, as it seemed most of these men were, their futures would have a good deal of pain in them. Each slave that had finally given up the hope of escape, now found themselves hoping they might be sold to someone who just wanted to fuck them and have their cocks sucked.........maybe the master that bought them wouldn't hurt them too much. That was at least, the hope.
After what seemed like endless hours of torment, the slaves were making their way back into the cell block, each going into the cells where the doors were open and waiting. 104 had wished that he had been with 115 part of the day, so he could prepare him for what was coming that evening. There was no way that 115 could know, or even suspect, that his ordeal this day was not over. Yes, he'd been welcomed by all the slaves that morning with the ritualistic fucking, but that had been kind and even gentle compared to what was coming this evening. 104 wondered if any of the other slaves had gotten the word to 115, he hoped so, but maybe it would be better for 115 not to know.
As 115 was entering his cell he marvelled that he was still alive. To be sure, he felt numb, but he was still here, he had made it this far. The other slaves all seemed to be looking his way, and he wondered what he had done to draw their attention. Then Holt came into his cell and without much ado, simply used the wrist restraints he had brought with him to restrain 115's wrists to his thighs. He also put a looped rope over his head and around his neck, very much like a leash.
"Well, I won the draw slave, and I'll tell you I'm pleased about it. I'm looking forward to our night together, just think about it, together all night, giving you ample opportunity to please me in my bed," Holt laughed.
"But, but," a stunned 115 stammered, until Holt slapped him across his face.
"Shut the fuck up, you piece of shit, no one gave you permission to speak. All I'll need your mouth for this evening is to suck my dick, caress my balls, lick my ass, and eat my cum," Holt said sternly with some anticipation in his voice.
115 was completely confused. He'd assumed that he would at least be given an opportunity to rest. What the hell was going on he wondered, and then he noticed that two other Bosses had come into the room with similar restraints and ropes. One, Samuels, went into 107's cell, restrained his wrists to his thighs and started leading a very subdued 107 away. At the same time the other Boss, Murphy, went into 105's cell (the beautiful Iranian slave), restrained him and started leading him out. 105's face burned with indignation as Murphy announced to the room, "any of you other guys want to join us you're welcome, we're going to play Nine Eleven this evening, only I think it's going to turn out a little differently this time," he said with an angry tone in his voice. 105 had been taken by Murphy before and knew he had had a brother in one of the Towers. 105 would suffer again tonight as he had on several previous nights, and the fact that he was a second generation American would be completely lost on Murphy.
There was no way 115 could know any of that, or he too might be looking at 105 with some empathy, as several of the other slaves were now doing. No, 115 was caught up in his own world right now, and he didn't understand. He looked over at 104, whose eyes were sympathetic, but he couldn't speak for fear of reprisals. Holt notice the glance, and the sympathy on the part of 104 and decided to use it to his advantage. He led 115 by his leash to stand in front of 104.
"Well look at the touchy feely little faggot," Holt sneered, "just wishing you could do anything to help your new girl friend is that it cunt? Well I'm going to give you a chance to make him feel better. Tell him what's going to happen to him tonight, and every night for the next six night........go ahead, tell him!"
104 looked at 115 and said to him, as gently as he could, "each new slave is given to each of the Bosses for the first six nights the slave is here. Each Boss gets to use the slave for their pleasure. That way, you'll know each of the Bosses and how they like to have their dicks suck, or their asses licked. Eventually, you'll be given a test, and you'll have to be able to identify the cum of each Boss. Boss Holt won you in the drawing, he gets to have you first."
"Good job, you little faggot, now why don't you and the rest of these cunts settle in for the evening. Don't worry about us, we'll be fine," Holt laughed as he led a terrified 115 to his room.
With that, the lights in the cell block were dimmed, but all of the slaves noticed. 109 wasn't there. They all looked at each other and began to indicate by their shruggs that none of them had seen 109 that day. In fact, the last time any of them saw 109, he was being led away to Trainer's quarters. Each of them knew the tight rope 109 was walking, each of them knew about the shotgun shell. Had Trainer used it? Where was 109?
In his ignorance, 115 was one of the few slaves not wondering and worrying about 109, he was terrified enough on his own account. A man whose sadistic pleasure had caused him pain for most of the day, was now leading him to his bedroom, where he would have him, helpless, the entire night. If hell could get any worse, 115 couldn't imagine how.
As Holt pushed 115 into his room he yelled for him to get on his knees. 115 responded immediately and sank to his knees before this terrible figure. Because his hands were fastened to his legs he couldn't raise the chain on the ball weight, and Holt kicked it so it rolled a short way becoming taunt again. "We're going to have plenty of fun tonight cunt boi, don't worry, but there's no rush, we have all night," Holt said laughingly. He was looking forward to this. This slave was still new enough so that everything requested was difficult for him to do, particularly demeaning and humiliating, and Holt loved that.
Holt began to undress, and was soon walking around the room naked, with his thick cock swaying as he moved in the room. 115 never took his eyes off this fearsome man, he knew he needed to be prepared to please him or feel his anger. His hope was that Holt would simply fuck him then go to bed, but he was to be sorely disappointed in that expectation.
As Holt sat down to a table with a plate of food, 115 realized how hungry he was as well, but instead of offering him something to eat, Holt ordered him to crawl under the table and start sucking his cock. 115 quickly crawled on all fours to get under the table then pressed his face between Holt's thighs and took his cock in his mouth. It certainly wasn't the first time he had had Holt's dick in his mouth that day, but it still caused him to turn red with humiliation at the thought of what he was doing.
Holt ordered him, "Move your head back for a minute," and when 115 responded, he watched in disbelief as Holt put a little dab of mashed potatoes on his erect cock. "Knock yourself out faggot, that's the only way you'll get anything to eat this evening."
115 was stunned, but quickly recovered and moved his mouth back onto Holt's cock, working his tongue around the potatoes and swallowing them as he continued to suck and lick Holt's engorged dick. That was the way 115 ate what little food he was going to get for dinner. All of it was served up on this man's swollen cock, and all of it was swallowed with bits of Holt's pre-cum as seasoning. It was a miserable way to eat, but 115 was so hungry, he accepted his fate, and ate, pre-cum and all.
After dinner, Holt had 115 crawl behind him to his bed. Holt stretched out and ordered 115 to get up on his bed with him. Then he said to 115, "I don't want to have to bother with a shower right now, it's been a long day for me, and I'm tired. Use your tongue and bathe me faggot. If your mouth gets dry there's a glass of water on the bedstand. Keep your tongue moist and pleasant on my body you lucky queer, and while you're having the pleasure of cleaning me, hum some music while I relax. Your value will really go up when they find out I've invented a bath that also plays music," Holt said laughingly.
115 wasn't sure where to begin. He'd never done anything like this before. Hell, he'd never imagined doing anything like this before, with anyone, but certainly not a man like Holt. But his stupor cost him as Holt slapped him across the face and told him to get busy licking, "and make damn sure you get everywhere you piece of shit, my feet, between my toes, under my arms, my crotch, my ass........everywhere, do you understand," Holt snarled.
"Yes Boss, I understand," 115 replied as he quickly went to Holt's feet and began licking them, covering them with his saliva. Getting his tongue between each toe, tasting the residue of socks and sweat, taking his time, not wanting to displease this man. Then slowly moving up each leg, covering his body with his tongue, tasting the sweat, the musk of his manliness. Coming to Holt's crotch and pushing his face and tongue deep into that crotch, getting his own face wet with his saliva as he licked everywhere. Then pausing, ever so briefly, as Holt turned, presenting his ass to him. Quickly recovering, 115 swirled his tongue around the mounds of each ass cheek, then began to press his face between the fleshy globes, licking as he went, until he was at the musky opening of Holt's ass.
"Didn't have a chance to clean up before our time together boi, hope you don't mind," Holt said satirically, "but I'd really appreciate it if you'd do an extra careful job on my ass."
"Yes Boss, I will," and with that 115 began to soak Holt's ass with his tongue. The taste, the smell, caused 115 to start to gag, and just as soon as that reflex kicked in, Holt turned and slapped 115 viciously across the face.
"You puke in my bed slut and you'll wish that whore that gave birth to you had had an abortion, do you understand me!"
115 got hold of himself quickly and realized that he would have to force himself to do whatever this man demanded. If he wanted his ass licked, then he would lick it. "Yes Boss, I understand," he said.
"Good, then I have a little treat for you slave," and he turned back around, "spread my ass cheeks open with your hands slave. 115 responded immediately, and was stunned as Holt reached back with his right hand and pushed a little chocolate "KISS" part way into his ass hole. "Lick it until there's no more chocolate bitch," Holt said as he relaxed his body waiting for the pleasure that was coming his way, and knowing, without even looking, how red with humiliation, 115's face was right now.
115 lowered his face down in between Holt's ass cheeks and began to lick the KISS, tasting the mix of chocolate and asshole. He was careful not to choke again. If he felt a spasm coming he would simply keep licking and force himself to hold everything in. It was humiliating, it was horrible. It seemed to take forever before he was sure there was no more chocolate left and felt safe to move on to other parts of Holt's body. Most of the rest was easy by comparison, although his arm pits were especially rank and sweaty, but by then 115 could see an end in sight, so he kept going.......licking......everything.
When Holt was satisfied that 115 had accomplished his task, he slapped him again and told him, "now lay across that pillow so your little ass is in the air for my dick," and 115 got himself into position to be fucked by this man.
"Now, ask me real nice to fuck your little girl ass. Come on, tell me how bad you want a real man to fuck you slut, not like all those worthless slaves, who couldn't fuck if their lives depended on it. Start begging you little whore, and make it good and dirty."
And with that 115 went even further down the road of degradation and humiliation. "Please fuck me Sir, please, let this worthless cunt feel a real man's dick it my hungry hole. Please Sir, I've wanted you to fuck me all day, please, fuck me now, let me know what a real man can feel like."
Holt relished the words as they washed over him. His sense of power and control were complete and that was getting him even harder. God, he loved degrading and fucking these slaves, he really couldn't understand why he loved it so much, but he did. He wasn't a faggot, he loved fucking real cunt, but there was something extra about having a man submit to him, having a man, who resented what was happening, but was powerless to do anything about it, having that man submit, grovel, beg to be fucked. As 115 continued as he had been ordered to do, Holt pressed his raging hardon against 115's almost cherry door.
115 could feel Holt's cock head press against him, he could feel that now familiar sense of pressure on his sphincter muscle, pushing enough to force the muscle to give way, even though he was trying to keep it closed. Finally, he knew he couldn't keep Holt out, Holt would have him.......all of him.
As 115 continued the words, which he was saying almost mindlessly now, he felt Holt's cock head break through his opening. Slowly, deliciously for Holt, the huge shaft began its descent into the warmness that only that part of 115's body could offer. He groaned between his words as he continued to encourage Holt to fuck him, as if this sadist needed any encouragement. He could feel Holt begin to get a rhythm going as he started pumping his engorged cock in and out of that moist hole. Holt would plunge all the way in, then pull out until his cock was almost completely out of 115's ass, then plunge, with all his force, back into that warm, moist spot. With each plunge, he could feel 115 tense with pain, and gasp between the words he was still saying, encouraging this "magnificent man to fuck this worthless slut."
Holt paced himself, he was in no hurry, but sooner than he had wanted he could feel the churning within his own groin, and the delicious feeling of his own balls as they prepared to discharge their seminal treasure into this fucker's ass. He could feel it, just another.........plunge..........or .........two...........and...........NOW..........."Take it you cunt"............."Take it all!!"............he shouted, as he shot wad after wad of cum into that ass. 115 could feel Holt's cock as it convulsed it's load inside him, lining his colon with even more cum. Again and again, Holt yelled at him to take his load, until finally, he was spent.
And then, without even withdrawing, Holt settled down still on top of 115, pulling a pillow over part of 115's head and shoulder and collapsing there. No more words, no nothing, just a sadist finally satisfied, and taking his rest. At first 115 wondered if Holt was going to get off of him. Then he realized that this was how they were going to sleep, with this man's cock jammed into his ass and most of the weight of his body pressing down on him. There weren't a lot of choices for 115. On another occassion he might have noticed his good fortune at being in a bed to sleep, but somehow, right now, it didn't seem like such good fortune. He was pressed down under a sadist with that sadist's cock stuck up his ass.........somehow he didn't feel so lucky. Then he felt Holt's foot move a little, as Holt kicked the ball weight off the bed, suddenly jerking 115's ball sac tight again with a gasp from 115 and a little chuckle from Holt.
Actually, 115 was kind of lucky. Holt only woke up one time during the night and began to once again plunge his cock in and out of 115's ass. It was one of Holt's favorite ways to fuck a slave. To not have to do anything except start thinking about it in a half dream, get hard, and start pumping. It was a wonderful way to fuck.
115 was lucky in that Holt could usually do that two or three times in a night, as he would find out on other occassions, but on this night, 115 was only fucked one more time. And that time Holt brought him out of a restless sleep, but still he had slept a little. In all the pain, all the humiliation, all the suffering, he didn't realize that his first full day as a slave was coming to an end. He didn't have a chance to reflect how many more there might be, he simply found himself drifting fitfully into that restless sleep, hoping that soon he would be able to sleep alone in his own cell.
I hope all of you enjoyed getting back to 115. His journey has only begun........hope you'll come back for more. Let me know how you're enjoying the story and any suggestions are gratefully received. Be sure and let me know where you're writing from and I'll try to have Chapter 7 out soon. Thanks to all my readers. Jake