Disclaimer: All rights reserved. No part of the story can be reproduced in any form without the express permission of the author, MACK Wayne.
slaveMaster Tempter
Ch - 9 Going home
As Dieter left to carry out his assignment , Jake couldn't believe what he'd just heard, but he was silent, "And bring one of the my large eye droppers back with you." While Dieter was accomplishing his errand of malfeasance, Max gave Jake assistance in finishing his monolog of thanks to Bob. Through Jake's willing compliance with his COs lead and direction, he said - among other things - how excited and thankful he was to know he would be able to have Bob's load back inside him, and how privileged it made him feel.
Max held a jar to Jake's dick and said one word, "Piss!" Jake let fly with praises, and thanks, and a torrent of urine, all at the same time. Max commended Jake for not asking to piss. He questioned if the boy was afraid to do so. When Jake admitted he was, Max said it pleased him, and that it was an excellent sign.
Jake acknowledged the "compliment" politely, wanting to add any positive points he could, with these vague and unsettling circumstances, "Thank you Sir." He was hoping this was some kind of test or initiation to be able to work with Max - with his Commanding Officer - and that he was passing.
Dieter returned with the mug - the collection spoon in it, and the eyedropper, and handed them to Max. Max held the glass up to Jake's face and mashed and stirred some of the softened shit into the offensive contents, "That's better," was the proclamation made with satisfaction in his voice. The slime was now shit stained. "There. Got rid of that feminine pink color. Now it looks like something you'd really WANT to drink doesn't it?" Jake was trying to breathe through his mouth so as not to smell the vile mixture inches from his face, but Max held it under his nose and told him to close his mouth. Max took the large eyedropper and filled it from glass. He tipped the poor boy's head back, and held the filled dropper to Jake's left nostril, "Now just pretend this is nose drops and when I tell you to, you sniff. Now SNIFF!" he hollered, squeezing the bulb of the dropper at the same time. Jake got a nostril full of shit, cum, spit, lube, blood, and ass mucus, which got sucked through his nose into his throat. By sheer will power he kept himself from hurling as Max loaded up the eyedropper again. "Ok. Lets do the other one," he said, as he held it to Jake's right nostril and performed the same foul deed.
Now he would not only have to smell it, but would smell it with every breath. The stench was unbearable. The full on taste would be worse. Keeping the boy's head tipped back, he gave the next instruction, "Open up," he said fingering Jake's lips. Max held the mug over the opening and tipped it as he and Bob and Dieter watched the shit stained, jism-rich, slime cocktail, begin to repossess Jake's body. With this "head still tipped back," first taste, he was given just enough to swirl around in his mouth with the instruction to, "give it a good coating." His head was allowed to return to normal and the rest he would be made to beg for and consume in sips. Max drug the game out for what seemed an eternity to the boy. He was forbidden to look anywhere other than at the glass full of his ass cocktail, and when he wasn't sipping it into his mouth, he had to convince Max that he needed and wanted more - pleading for it until it was all consumed. Only thoughts of home kept him from loosing the swill right in the face of his CO. But he drank it thimble full after thimble full and he kept it down.
The vile exercise over - Max put the glass down and rubbed Jake's head fondly as he spoke. "Well," he said, "I guess the time is here fuckhole." Jake's eyes lit up. Max rubbed his head as you would a child's, and then stepped back - still in the light. "You have truly been a lot of fun. I've enjoyed every minute of this. But all good things must come to an end, and I did say you would be going home," Max walked around behind the humiliated brunt of their fun and games. He told Jake to open his mouth and as he did so, Max reached over the boys head - inserted the familiar red gag, and buckled the straps behind Jake's neck.
"It's ok for you to talk now whenever you feel like it. I know there's going to be things you'll want to say so feel free - so-to-speak." The last comment elicited a chuckle in the room as the handsome victim wrapped his teeth and lips around the firm unwanted ball. The taste of rubber however, was a welcome counterbalance to the taste of the his own shit and blood, Bob's cum, the lube, and everyone's freely offered contributions of saliva. Max began his informative little lecture as he patted Bob's new fuck on its ass cheek. "I'm going to send you home soon. That's what you wanted isn't it boy?"
"Yes Sir!" was indistinguishable, but very obvious from around the attractive red rubber lingual obstruction.
"You've been getting a lot of what you want here. You wanted very much to see my slave and you saw it downstairs incessantly impaling itself. You wanted more than anything for Bob to fuck you - " (It was the first time he had heard the name of his attacker - the timing of the revelation being Bob's) " - and he fucked you. You wanted him to breed you with his massive load and keep it inside you. Even now it remains in you to take home with you and I know how thankful you are for that right?"
"Yes Sir," was the deceitful answer,
"And now you want to go home, and you're going to be getting that as well." Lots of gibberish emanated from around the ball in Jake's upper fuck hole - all of it with a thankful tone. "Let me ask you something just out of curiosity. You've told Bob here how important his pleasure and cock are to you and how thankful you are for him fucking you - how grateful you are, that you are leaving with his cum still inside you. If I send you back to Pennsylvania, would you want to maybe run into the city when Bob needs your services? He really likes your tight ass and the way you beg to be fucked. Maybe three or four nights a week you could come in and get fucked. Bob would bed you down with a plug up your ass, and the next morning you could drink his load before leaving. Is that something you would enjoy?" Max was raping Jake's mind in earnest - as brutally as Bob had raped his ass, and there just seemed to be no end.
Jake was sober now. There were no drugs and alcohol scrambling his brain, and the preposterous words were falling on straight ears. His thoughts were, "Is this man crazy? I'm going to drive three hours into New York City and three hours back, to have myself torn apart and cum pumped up my ass? Once I get outa here, I'll split so fast they'll just see my dust," But he knew there was only one answer Max wanted to hear, and as he nodded he gave it around the rubber ball, "Yes Sir."
"It might cut pretty heavily into your work load. That ok?" Jake's head continued nodding up and down, and mouth speaking his lie of agreement. Max turned into the darkness and spoke to Bob. What do you think Bob? What conditions would you set for this fuckhole to enjoy your cock? He really wants it."
Bob feigned thoughtfulness for a bit before speaking, "Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday would be good. It would mean traveling during rush hour, but I'd enjoy seeing him naked around the house for the evening. If he left PA around three I'm sure he could get to me before seven O'clock. He could bring his tools and work for me for a few hours to show his appreciation." He paused for a moment, "Oh. And no beating off or sex outside servicing my cock. But I'm sure that'll be no problem. When I asked him, he admitted to me my cock is the only sex he could need."
Max looked back at his worn, and weary, and frazzled, victim, and let him incriminate himself one more time. "So what do you think fuckhole? That sound good to you? You want that cock inside you enough to rearrange your life around it? You willing to abide by Bob's conditions so you can service his beautiful horse cock?" Max looked directly and deeply into Jake's eyes and continued. "Don't lie now. Your answer is very important. Think a moment before you agree - and then if that's what you really want, nod your head and speak loudly to Bob.
In a matter of split seconds Jake's head filled with thoughts about needing to be out of here and about doing anything to be sure that happened - his head shook up and down, and he literally hollered around his gag to the man who now had a name. "YES SIR! THANK YOU SIR! I'LL HONOR YOUR CONDITIONS SO I CAN HAVE YOUR COCK SPLIT ME OPEN! I'LL BE THERE TUESDAY, THURSDAY, and SATURDAY and I'LL WORK FOR YOU TO PAY FOR THE PRIVEL - -"
"Ok. Ok," Max said, "Quiet down. I think you've made your point there pal. Its obvious you're in love with that gigantic pussy pounder of Bob's, and that you would do whatever's necessary to have it split your all but virgin cunt apart. Did you think either of us would make you drive all the way here 3 or 4 times a week? We were just playing with you." There was a look of relief on Jake's face that Max had been waiting for/ wanting to see one last time before letting the axe fall.
"Actually - " Max said, " - the conditions for you to honor for the privilege of servicing Bob's cock were hypothetical, but you really would do that wouldn't you?" Max was making it infinitely easy for their victim to lie, and later he would pay severely for it. The affirmative nod of the head was the final confirmation of Jake's transgression as Max's lifted the final shreds of veil from the truth of Jake's terrible predicament, "Ya know pretty boy, I knew you were mine the minute I laid eyes on you in the bar last evening. What I didn't know at that time, was how stupid and gullible you are, and how easy you would make it for me to obtain you."
Listening to the horrifying words, Jake's look changed from one of relief, to that of confusion and nervous fear, and progressed quickly to one of terror. The game was being revealed. The cards were all being laid on the table now, and there wasn't anything but shit in Jake's hand. His luck had run out and without the drugs or alcohol to lend that comfortable haze, he could see clearly. He started pleading with Max not to do this. He said Max couldn't do this to him. He hollered and ranted to no avail. All the words remained trapped inside unable to be expressed. Only noises escaped from around the ball.
"Go ahead. Get it out of your system for a few minutes." Max said. It's ok. Don't worry. You're behaving normally. You're only doing what anyone else would do in your place. If you took a slave off the streets like we talked about, he'd be doing the same thing for you. How does it feel to be the victim instead of the victor?"
His wishes to be freed were pointless. Max wouldn't take a chance like letting him go now. He knew that. Jake stopped his pointless oral noises and stood there looking down in a stupor as the reality sank in. He was seeing himself in the frightening light of reality. He was loosing everything - his freedom, his independence, his manhood, his possessions, his relationships - even his rights and dignity were being taken from him. He was appropriately bound here like beef on the hoof - ripe for the slaughter. The shock was stunning. His face reddened as he listened not to his friend, not his Commanding Officer or boss, but to his captor. "I didn't bring you here to SEE a salve," Max revealed with finality, "I brought you here to BE a slave. You remember me telling you I had a friend and you were just his type? And do you remember me telling you I had a way of augmenting my income. Well, I sold you to Bob. When I spied on you undressing from behind that wall of mirrors, I called Bob knowing u were just what he'd been looking for. He came over to see if he wanted to purchase you. I had you clean out so he could take a test drive. As it turned out he bought you even before he drove you. You are the merchandise he came to pick up, and your slavery is the deal you helped me close. I knew he would buy you, and if he didn't, I'd have enjoyed you myself for a while and sold you to some one else."
Jake felt faint. He didn't even know what kept him conscious and able to hear the terrifying news as it unfolded. "Everything's been taken care of. I'm good at what I do and even if they look, you will never be found. Remember that people in the bar saw you standing and talking with a short guy with hair and a mustache? As you see that man doesn't exist. Remember how you said nothing to anyone about me and how no one at the bar knew you? Remember how you left the bar alone to go and get your car and how you picked me up while I was standing in the shadows, blocks away from the bar? Remember that you parked in my secure garage?"
It was necessary for the naked hulk to be shown his hopelessness in order to exact complete and unquestioning acceptance of his fate. By the time Max was through, Jake would understand his utter lack of options without doubt. Jake was seeing the truth of the picture being painted as he listened, "I got a little pocket money for your car. It was taken to my friends at the chop shop who are always interested in a vehicle as nice as yours was.
Jake started making noises that had a singsong quality to them. It was a kind of whining. There were lots of syllables. You could tell he was probably apologizing, making promises, and begging. Max just let the slave ramble on for a time, while he stepped back and sat in the dark with Bob, his immense cock in his hand, and enjoying the show. Bob asked Max - loudly enough for Jake to hear - to change the position of, "the display" - that he was ready to see it on its knees. Bob's friend and accomplished slave collector happily accommodated. He released and re-cuffed the extremities, now without feeling, behind Jake's back, and as the boy's legs crumpled without any effort on Max's part, he "helped" him down to the desired position. There in the middle of the bright lights, "the display," having been told to continue, babbled on. He cried tears of fear and sincerity about whatever it was he was saying, as saliva ran freely from around his gag.
Max stepped back into the light again startling the jabbering slave. He held in his hand Jake's address book. It was a cheap one but its distinctive red and green color made it unmistakably identifiable to its former owner. Max held it in a way that only partially obscured it from view as he interrupted the whinny blabbering. "I want to thank you for giving such good directions to your house fuckhole. Remember - " Jake didn't want to remember any more, " - how last night you wouldn't give me the simple information I was asking you for, regarding the photos in your wallet? Well, I took the liberty of sending my men to your place to pick up a few things."
Max held the book out for Jake to see, and as he began thumbing casually through it - stopping to read something now and again - the boy began to tremble, "This - " Max informed, " - is like an insurance policy. I always like to guarantee the cooperation of the merchandise I sell to my clients. Things like this book enable me to do that. Because if you try to run, or if you don't cooperate with Bob - no matter what he does to, or requires of you, people in this book will suffer terrible consequences." Now he understood his plight completely. The sobbing mass of muscle was ready now for breaking and was well on its way.
"You wanted to go home?" Max continued, "Bob is going to be taking you home very shortly - " "Home," the word had lost its meaning completely to the once proud man, " - but first I want you to listen very carefully to what I have to say. You belong to this man now. You are his property - his slave. He is your new owner - your Master. You represent a sizable investment to your owner, and like anyone else, he expects a lot of good return on his investment. Whether you live or die, and how you live, are matters of concern only to him now. He requires all your focus, all your attention, all your effort, all your time, all your energy, all of your dedication, all of your devotion and your unquestioning obedience as slave. That's not a lot for a man like your owner to require of a worthless fuckhole like yourself is it?"
The defeated head shook from side to side as two syllables issued from the drooling mouth. In what seemed an instant, the beautiful masculine creature in the middle of the bright lights was a different being. It had undergone a metamorphosis - from manhood, pride, and hopefulness - to object-hood, humiliation, and defeat. It would be broken the rest of the way, and become a completely compliant, obedient, instrument of suffering and service, for Bob's entertainment, convenience, purposes, and pleasure.
Max put his hand in the drenched armpit of the kneeling object and helped it with upward pressure to stand to its shackled feet. The bright lights went down and the room lights came up. Max handed the fuck hole off to Dieter as he wiped his hand through the sweat filled, dripping, hairy pit, and put it to his nose, "Nothing like it," he said to the slave's new owner, lingering over the intoxicating scent repeatedly inhaling - as Bob had done the night before, Stay for a drink?" Max queried.
"Sure!" Was Bob's immediate answer.
"Get this loaded up for Bob," Max instructed his big assistant, "He'll be taking it home shortly." Dieter took the slave by the same armpit and led the stumbling hulk with its head bowed naturally in defeat and subjection short stepping its chains through the door. Max called to it and made it turn around and look at him. He held his red and green "insurance policy" up for it to see and issued his final emphatic, poignant words. "Remember - fuck hole!"
The new slave would indeed remember the image of his captor holding the book up victoriously for the rest of its unnatural, obedient, life - a life of pain, and suffering - an instrument and an object of convenience, service, and entertainment.
"A thing of beauty is a joy forever," Bob said, as the men adjourned.
"Yeah," Max said, "Or for as long as u want to own it." The men laughed in unison.
As they relaxed over celebratory drinks and cigars, Max offered Bob a footnote to the events, "Now remember I have a "previously owned program" - no guarantees, but I can offer something a client is through with either for sale or auction. If it sells I take 20% commission.
"What about age and condition?" Bob asked.
"You never know what someone might be interested in - and when the price is right for them, I've sold some pretty rough and advanced merchandise for what ever purposes the buyers have had in mind. I don't ask, but some have volunteered, and the uses for what has sold have been pretty varied and interesting to say the least - so just keep it in mind - could be a way to dispose of what might no longer be of interest to you without your having to go to any trouble."
"Thanks for the offer my friend. I will keep it in mind. And I may be up for an eventual addition to my collection - so far of one - possibly something younger and less expensive.
"We filled this prescription pretty well for you, Max bragged, "I'm sure we could find you something appropriate again. Just let me know when you're ready, and what you want."
Bob agreed wholeheartedly that Max's prescription fulfillment had been nothing short of perfection with what he was taking home. The "satisfaction guaranteed," offer Max had issued, was a colossally delightful understatement.
The Postscript (still to cum) will complete "slaveMaster Tempter" Comments welcome: mackxwayne@hotmail.com Other Nifty Story: A slaves Induction The man behind the words - MY website http://www.MACKsf.com