Can you believe the tension between Rhett and the members of The Masters Club? What will Rhett do to "win" this $50,000 reward? (I hope you donate to Nifty to help support it). This story is copyrighted by GayTies.com.
He Masters Club Chapter 5 of 8
On the day of the slave party fundraiser, Jenson and Henry gathered their friends, one of whom owned the gay bar Bottoms Up. So, they used that business to host the event. What Rhett didn't know was that there was no fundraiser. There was no slave contest, no other lads competing for the money, no prize money, not $50,000, not $10,000... nothing.
The "event" has always been a special ceremony by this Masters Club, headed by Jenson, Henry, Jessie, Mahmoud, and George. It was a ruse to maneuver Rhett Barton into becoming their property and have the boy's property become theirs. Rhett is the group's fourth victim. The other three times went very well. The Masters Club had acquired (stolen), to date, $185,562.17 in assets and a total of $8,991.14 in monthly income payments, which are derived from various sources redirected from their victims to The Masters Club accounts. These monthly redirected payments included money for school, payments from their work, Social Security benefits, and other personal funds the victims "were" receiving.
"OK, Rhett," Jenson said to his ever-naked boy, kneeling on the floor as he had been trained to do, "time to get to the big fundraiser. And I want to thank you so much for being such a good sport. You know the guys will tease you and make you act gay, but it is all in fun. Right?"
"Of course, Sir. I'll go along with it and make you proud. I know the fundraiser for the new gay center building is important. I promise to behave like the sluttiest slave, and if I win the $50,000, which is totally unimportant, I just hope that makes you proud of me."
Jenson leaned down, put his hand under the boy's armpits, and had him stand. The Jenson hugged Rhett and faked getting all teary-eyed. "You know I love you, son. I am proud of you. Even if we have to ZAP you once in a while during your pretend slave performance, just know that you and I will have a wonderful relationship. I'll treat you as if you are my most prized property." It's too bad Rhett didn't understand that Jenson meant "most prized property," literally.
When they broke their hug, Rhett went to get his clothes. "Where are you going?"
"Oh, to get dressed so we can leave for the contest."
ZZZZAAAAAPPPPP! Rhett fell to the floor and curled up in the fetal position, grabbing his fried balls.
"Boy, why do you make me hurt you? After the last five days of training, you should know better. Now get up, and let's go."
"Yes, Sir," Rhett said weakly. And out they went, with Rhett totally naked, not even shoes, and surprisingly not even a slave collar. The only thing he "wore" was the electrified ring encircling the top of his ball sack, which was practically unnoticeable to others. Although everyone at the bar knew he would have it on.
When they arrived at their destination, Rhett exited the car and walked beside Jenson, naked, into the bar. There were fewer men there than the first time, only 12 men. This was because these were the 12 men who were the official members of The Masters Club. These 12 helped scam their victims, each playing an important role. These 12 will split the loot, so to speak.
Rhett was nervous, so he was not paying attention to the men or their numbers. But he did ask Jenson, "Where are all the other slaves who will compete for the prize money?"
"They are in the back. Only one is brought out at a time to perform and get rated. For now, just stay here." Of course, there were no other slaves. Rhett was it. He was the star.
"OK, gentlemen, let's begin our proceedings. As you know, we are raising money for the new gay center." Everyone giggled except Rhett. He didn't know what was so funny.
"We are going to begin our slave initiation," announced Tim. "We have 10 slaves to complete, but only one will win the prize, which is lifelong servitude." This time, Rhett laughed, and no one else did.
"This jar," Tim held one up, "contains the names of the 10 contest names," he handed the jar containing slips of paper to the fellow next to him. "Please select the first candidate." That man, Jasper, pulled out a slip and handed it to Tim, the speaker (and bartender), "Toe-Sucking, Ass-Licking Cunt Slut Whore."
Everyone looked at Rhett and started to applaud as the boy stood there quietly and naked. "Toe-Sucking, Ass-Licking Cunt Slut Whore, please step forward? You are the first to perform." More applauds as Rhett just stood there waiting for some slave to come from the back room." Then Tim looked directly at Rhett and waved him forward. "Toe-Sucking, Ass-Licking Cunt Slut Whore, come on up here?"
Jenson nudged Rhett and shouted, for all to hear, "That's you! Get your ass to the center, boy." Rhett was so embarrassed to know they meant him and stepped toward him, all red-faced.
"I'm amazed this slave is so not dressed. Not even a slave collar. Where is your slave collar, boy?"
For the first time, he was asked to speak. "I... I... guess I don't have one, Sir."
"And why is that? Because you haven't learned it yet?" Asked Tim.
Rhett took the clue, "Yes, I need to earn it? Sir."
"Right, and how will you earn it?"
"By being the best slave slut I can be."
"Right. And for all you gentlemen, this boy will earn his collar tonight. And, we have a bonus: he is straight." Everyone laughed. "No. Really, he is straight. He tells us he never engaged in sex with another man and never will." More laughter. "Isn't that right, boy?" Tim looked at him in the eyes to signal that he must agree to what Tim said. He got that message.
"Yes, Sirs, I never had any gay sex before, and I'd appreciate it if.. if...that's... it's OK for me... to remain straight." More laughter.
"Sure. Of course, but would you like to at least pretend for us? For the cash prize? I mean, let's take it as a game."
Rhett had no idea what he was talking about. "So, have you practiced your begging?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Great. Well, let's see. I'll pick a man for you to beg."
"Yes, Sir?" Rhett could not image so many handsome men. Most of them looked like sexy gym goers. And after all, he had been practicing kissing men and sucking dick. He told himself he could do this.
Rhett was searching the room to see which sexy man he was going to beg to kiss. Then, Tim called out, "OK, Burton. Burton Marshall. Will you step forward and see if this slave is a good beggar?" Burton was one of the regular members.
Then a man, a big... shall we say.... a super large man stood up. Burton was undoubtedly over 300 pounds, nice looking, but not what most young men, who were not chubby-chasers, would call sexy. He was bald and wore glasses with white tape over the nose section. "Oh my God!." Rhett thought to himself. "I'm supposed to beg this fat-ass fart-face to let me kiss him?"
"OK, slave boy, you may begin begging."
"Wait," Jensen interrupted." Rhett was glad to see there was a mistake. "YES! Let me beg a sexy man," he said to himself. Jenson saved the day.
"Yes? Dr. Jenson?"
"I just wanted to hand Rhett's ball shocker to Master Burton so the boy is motivated to do the best job in whatever task is requested." And he handed the device to Burton.
"Wow. Thanks. Now, how does this work, exactly? Oh, I see a button. Here, let me press...."
ZZZZAAAAPPPPP! Rhett was rolling around the floor in agony. "Nice!" Burton remarked as if he had no idea what the effect would be. Rhett finally got off the floor and was catching his breath. ZZZZZZAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPP! Again, this time, pushing it for a longer time. The boy was twitching and jerking on the floor. "Nice. This works great. "Now, when do I zap him? If he doesn't beg properly or worship me in the right way?"
"Either reason... actually, you don't need a reason. You can do it anytime you want to see this slave boy do his sexy, flailing dance at your feet." Everyone roared with laughter. The naked boy, now covered in sweat, his eyes rolling around in his head, focused and looked up, wondering if it was proper to stand, but he didn't.
"Burton, let's not fry the boy's ball off in the first three minutes of his performance." All laughed. "I think he got the message," Tim said to more giggles.
"What are you?" Burton asks calmly.
A slave, Sir." ZZAAPP! It was a brief shock.
When the boy spoke again to speak, Jenson shouted, "Better be created and self-deprecating."
"Sir, I am the most disgusting piece of slave shit slime you'll ever meet." Burton just held up the remote as a warning. "and a fagot asshole cunt whore for your use and the use of these fine gentlemen I may be so deeply honored to serve."
Applause broke out, and cheers. Rhett finally got it. He had to actually behave like a fuck-up fagot whore. Yes, now he has it. Burton held up the remote again and showed Rhett that he was pleased by placing the remote on the table next to him. He was signaling that as long as Rhett behaved in complete dehumanizing self-debasement, he would not need to be shocked. What a fucking relief!
"Now fuck-face, beg to please me, And tell me how you will do that."
"Oh, kind Sir, Master Burton, please let this fuck-up piece of shit kiss you?" Rhett had decided, as revulsive as it would be to kiss this fat, uncouth four-eyes, he would do it. He'd close his eyes, kiss this man... and make it a French kiss to please him and everyone else.
"Well, first, I don't hear any proper begging. Haven't you watched slave videos on GayTies.com?"
"Oh fuck, kind Sir, please let me kiss your lips and mouth. I'll give you the best kiss I can give." Burton just shook his head slowly, no.
Rhett got the message. "Oh, most kind Master, please give this lowly slave the ultimate honor and let me ... I mean... it gives you the most wonderful, sexy kiss as it sticks its tongue into your handsome, sexy mouth and tongues you to extreme delight."
"Ah... that would be a no."
WHAT? WHAT THE FUCK DOES HE WANT ME TO SAY OR DO?
"I don't want you to kiss me simply because you are not worthy. Try again."
"Oh kind, brilliant Master, please let me...." He had trouble saying this. It was too disgusting to do to this stupid fat man. But all eyes are on him, this naked slave boy to be. "Please let me suck your noble toes and clean your feet and give you great pleasure. I promise to do the best job. I'll lick you so clean you won't need a bath for a week."
"Boy, I haven't had a bath in weeks." Great laughter, they knew he was a clean man. "But let me see you prepare to do the toes sucking."
Rhett, kneeling before Burton, picked up his right boot and gently pulled it off. He looked up to be sure it was behaving correctly.
"I suppose you are desperate to smell my sweaty boot?"
Rhett was getting better at responding to clues. He put the boot opening up to his nose and pushed his face into it as far as he could, "Oh fuck yeah! Wow! Oh, thank you, kind Master. Ah, fuck, what a wonderful manly smell. Thank you, thank you, thank you so much." The room erupted with applause. YESSS! He was learning He'll get through this and win the $50,000. He was so pleased with himself. So what if he is going to lick and suck smelly toes. $50,000 is a lot. He smiled at himself, thinking he would get $5,000 per toe. It seemed funny, but he would show all these guys AND make Jenson proud of him. After all, this would be over soon!
"Great Master, may I remove your sock?" Burton nodded. And Rhett pulled off the sock. He saw George wiggling his fat stubby toes.
"May I begin licking now to please you?" As he was about to begin, Burton was silent. BINGO! This was familiar. He had learned he needed permission. May I please begin? I promise to do a fabulous job. I will worship your toes and feet complete." Silence. OK, he thought, "I need to play it up, go all out."
Rhett placed his mouth on Burton's right foot and waited for permission. "Oh, Sir, please don't torture me like this. I crave to lick and worship your foot. I'd love to do it. I need to do this for you." Silence. Now he was getting angry! Rhett knew he was a handsome, sexy, blonde-haired, blue-eyed 22-year-old that ANY GAY MAN would love to have worship his feet. Yet, silence.
"FOR GOD'S SAKE! GOD DAMN IT! I NEED TO DO THIS! IT'S MY FUCKING JOB! PLEASE, MASTER BURTON, LET ME DO MY FUCKING JOB!"
"Ah... I think not."
"WHAT THE FUCK! " he screamed at himself. "Did I just lose the $50,000? Did I just get kicked out of Jenson's life? Did I just lose fucking EVERYTHING?"
He was sure he just lost everything! All this work, pretending, playing along, getting zapped time and again, all for fucking nothing! "Please, oh God, please, I'm begging you. Please let..." and he started crying. He had planned to pretend to cry, but he had lost it. He was done. All his scheming and conniving was wasted. He lost it. He sobbed and wailed loudly. He did not care anymore. "Please let me do this one thing. I just want to suck these magnificent toes." He let out a loud burst of cries. "YOU FUCKING BASTARDS! YOU ASSHOLES, PLEASE JUST LET THIS FUCK-UP, DISGUSTING, CUNT SUCK YOUR FUCKING STUPID TOES!" Silence still
None of the Masters were upset about being called `assholes' and' bastards.' They relished that extreme frustration of a handsome, sexy lad not being able to suck a fat man's toes. They were manipulating him down a one-way road to total objectification and dehumanization. He was truly begging to be used in what the boy considered "the worst way possible." BUT... they would take him much further.
Then Burton spoke up softly, calmly, "Well, you did beg me nicely, but I don't want my toes sucked. It doesn't mean anything to me."
Rhett wiped away his tears and looked up at Burton. "Sorry, Sir, I lost it. I just wanted to please you and obey ... how may I please you?
"I want you to guess what body part likes attention the most."
BINGO! Yes, that was it, the ultimate gay sex act. YES! And he would do it. He calmed himself. "Yes, Sir. Please, kind Sir, let me suck your dick. Let my slave mouth lick and suck your juicy big dick. Please. I now understand. I only did it a couple of times as I am straight, but I will serve you better than anyone else. Please. Let me suck your dick. I only ask that you do not cum in my mouth." The room again erupted with laughter.
"Well, how would you prepare me to suck my dick? That is... if I give you permission."
OK, Rhett was getting this. While still on his knees, the boy reached up to Burton's belt, undid it, unbuttoned the snap, pulled the zipper down, and waited.
Burton reached for the zapper and held it up.
Rhett knew what was needed. He opened the fly of Burton's pants and pushed his underwear behind his dick and under his balls. FUCK! Burton's huge stiff dick bounced to attention. Rhett was amazed. He was going to go down on it, but, of course, he needed permission. Yes, he was learning and obeying. He bent down and placed his open mouth at the top of Burton's dick and waited. Again silence.
Oh... the required begging, he remembered. "Please, Master. Please let me suck your dick. I'm ready. I will worship your huge, wonderful man tower and lick and suck it all over." Nothing. "Please let me be your dick sucker. It's all I want in life, to be your cock-sucking fagot. Please?" Silence. Then Rhett figured it out. FUCK. He had to do it. He would do it just to end all this insane degradation. "Sir, and shoot your load down my throat. Down my hungry cock-sucking fagot throat. Plunge your dick into me so hard and deep I won't be able to breathe. Please. God, please fuck my slave slut mouth."
"Ah... I think not."
Rhett was delirious. He was lightheaded and feeling like he was going to pass out. He cried. He had his mouth ready to be throat-fucked, and Burton refused his service. Burton, and likely all of these men, were finding him unworthy to suck toes and get throat-fucked. He was shit. He was less than shit. He was rejected as a slave slut. "Please?"
"I said no." He said it as if bored and finding no worthy use for this boy's mouth. I do have other sexual interests. Can you think of anything else you could do to please me?"
Then it hit him. He screamed to himself, "FUCK NO! FUCK NO! FUCK NO! FUCK NO! I will not offer my ass for him to fuck. NO ONE has, or ever will, fuck my ass! Period. He knew he would never get fucked!" But voiced nothing.
All his sub-slave training at Jenson's home, with Henry and others never involved in getting fuck. He was not prepared to have his ass plugged. That's EXACTLY what Jenson and the others wanted. A virgin asshole to use this special night!
This thought of getting fucked made him feel dizzy. Then... finally, in a meek tiny voice, "Please, please, Master...." He sobbed. He thought this was the last act he could ever do. But... $50,000? Isn't it worth $50,000? And he thought about all the other money and jewelry he'd soon con these assholes out of. Plus.... He'd be in Jenson's will for.... MILLIONS! He swallowed his pride... as if he had any left. Then... "Please fuck my ass. Try to be gentle, but please fuck my ass. I know it's the one thing you want. And I am your fagot slave slut. YOUR TRUE FAGOT SLAVE SLUT here to please you and obey and offer my body."
Finally, George spoke up, "Well, if I honor you by fucking your slave asshole, prepare yourself. Let me see that you are eager for a big hard dick to fuck your brains out."
Rhett had gone all the way. He never thought he'd ever do this, but he will now. He was trembling and shaking. He got on the small table, on his hands and knees, and presented his ass. THANK GOD! THIS WILL BE THE LAST OF HIS DEGRADATION AND HUMILIATION. IT WILL SOON BE OVER.
"I see. Ok, Now put your hands on your ass cheeks and pull them apart." He did. "Oh my, you have such a cute little hole. Is it a virgin button hole?
"Yes, Sir."
"And you want me to fuck it with my think eight-inch uncut cock?"
"Please, Sir?" Rhett never stopped trembling.
"Do you want me to thrust my big cock in fully all at once?" Burton asked.
"Please don't, Sir." But he wisely added, "But, yes... if you want to, Sir."
"I see. Yes, I would choose to push my dick in all at once, in one thrust. Is that OK?" He nodded. "Speak up!"
"Yes, Sir."
"Do you prefer a dry fuck or with lube?"
"Oh, God, please, kind Sir, with lube."
"Well, I see some butter next to bread rolls on the bar counter. Will that butter do?"
"Oh yes, please. Please use the butter."
"Only problem is, boy, I don't want to stick my figures up your shitter. Let me think.... Maybe you can beg these men around you to butter your tight, virgin asshole. Do you want to do that?"
"Oh yes, Sir. Please, one of you kind Sirs, please lube my ass?"
Burton interrupted, "But this creates a problem. There are 11 other men here. No matter who you choose, the other 10 will feel rejected. Like they are not good enough to get their fingers in your shitty asshole. I'd say you will be insulting all these other fine, upstanding men here. Likely, they will just throw you out, naked, onto the street and shun you, abandon you. How do you think we should handle this, boy? So that all these men feel respected?"
Rhett felt faint and woozy. He could barely believe what Burton was proposing. His head dropped to the tabletop. He couldn't hold stable on all fours. But at least his ass stuck up nicely. The men were silent.
"I... Please... ah... several of you men... would you kindly..." He cried out loud. Blubbering like a little boy. "Please, would all of you kindly lube my shitty slave asshole, please?"
"Good boy, now you are getting it."
To be continued.....
What a pitiful, sad, blubbering kid Rhett has become. But is he acting? He has never been fucked before. Is he all in? Are the members of The Masters Club really that cruel?
But I have written tons of erotic porn stories. Most are too intense and too graphic to be approved for inclusion on Nifty. So they are posted on https://www.gayties.com/. (You have to join, but membership is free.)
Send your comments to Bruce Darkforce at gaydic@gmail.com