Timmy and His Masters Chapter 1A How It All Began By Ghostwriter_XYZ Ghostwriter_XYZ@yahoo.com
See full disclaimer Chapter 1... This story depicts intense acts of sex, SM, and pain among males. As always, if you are underage or this offends you, get thee gone already. This is FICTION. All people, places etc., herein including the town of Limerick NY, are a figment of my warped imagination. And remember: DON'T TRY THESE THINGS AT HOME, kids. Someone could end up critically injured or dead. If you don't know what you're doing, DON'T! Nuff said...
There are a LOT of characters in this story, some of whom are just names or "cameos." Some will be featured prominently in 1 chapter but not another or "go on hiatus" for a few chapters and reappear, perhaps in another form. (I have things sketched out for about 3 more chapters!) After this chapter, I will append a Dramatis Personae to facilitate your understanding of who is who, who isn't who, who is whose Master or slave, who is fucking whom, who had better NOT be fucking whom...
Copyright 2012 Ghostwriter_XYZ. And now ON THE WITH SHOW!
Note I regret the delay in posting. I have found God WON'T put 48 hrs. in a day! On top of everything else, I fractured 2 bones in my right hand! "Life is what happens while you're busy making other plans!" The immortal Erma Bombeck.
Recap of Chapter 1
Back to reality. Sigh... I wait for the water to get hot and realize I'm in deep shit for cumming over Adam, Tuesday. Oh Adam, Adam, Adam!!! Adam you're so hunky, Adam you're so handsome, so adorable, so SEXY!!!! Oh Adam, ADAM, AAHHDDUUHHMM!!! Fuck--I just cummed gallons all over myself and the floor. Brrrng... "Timmy, you just blew 10 minutes swooning and cumming over Adam. Clean up your mess, get going, and get your ass over here. You have an HOUR with Mr. Bullwhip. Don't make us come and get you!" Click. Shit. I am fucked. I am so fucking fucked to hell. I'm already 2 hours late, got carried away daydreamin about Adam and cummed all over. Fuck--I got a gallon of cum all over my floor. I hope none splattered on my clothes. The water for my enema is barely lukewarm. It must be HOT. Sigh... I'm so far behind I'll never catch up. I am so dead. What am I gonna do? God, if you are there, tell me, WHAT AM I GONNA DO???
Chapter 1A How It Began
I wait for water to get hot for my enemas. I lick my cum off the cold concrete floor, make the floor clean, make the requisite entry in my notebook. I wistfully survey my living space. It was my "mancave," my refuge from Stepfather and the world. I had thick fluffy rugs, a TV, computer, the 4-poster bed dad gave me, and 4 big space heaters to keep it all cozy. The day after Billy and Sean waylaid me in The Clearing and declared me their slave, they my Masters, Goons came and took EVERYTHING. They impaled me on a dildo highchair without a drop of lube. I musta shrieked loud enuf to be heard in Joisey! Nobody gave a shit. They took my clothes, furniture and possessions even my 4-poster bed. Everything I owned GONE-- hauled away by Goons in 6 hours, 3 trips by 3 U-Hauls to the Levittown Thrift Store. They left me with NOTHING. My "mancave" is now bare concrete floor. My "bed" is pieces of other beds with a mattress the Levittown City Mission threw out because so many men had peed/cummed/puked/God knows what on it! Bottom of fuckin barrel--mattress too foul for BUMS to sleep on it. Only Erik's ministrations keep my bed from falling apart. That would get me more punishment.
I have a battered alarm clock, footlocker of "toys," and of course, the damned highchair. Lights are on 24/7 just like a prison cell. Might as well be. I have no access to anything. My potty room door unlocks 6 & 6. I don't even have a toilet but a fuckin POTTY CHAIR. A Duty slave comes once a day empties it and someone determines if there's enuf piss and shit or if I went to the bathroom elsewhere or skimped on my laxatives, suppositories and enemas. If the report so indicates, I'm in deep shit, no pun intended!
My clothes are in a locked closet, behind a double-locked partition, in a room secured by a triple- locked electrified door. I can't access the ROOM where my clothes are kept, let alone closet or clothes themselves. Coach Mark's "boys," Kevin and Luis along with Walter, Master Shane's slave/foreman and Walter's crew created the partitions and dividers. Steven Simeone, son/apprentice/slave to Master Wayne, our locksmith, created and keyed all the locks. Houdini couldn't get through them! Thrift Store was thrilled to get such nice things! Where stuff came from, Thrift Store staff don't ask, no one tells!
Slaves get NO "luxuries" like rugs, towels, beds... Slaves "towels" are rags. Most slaves are kept naked, impaled on a dildo, in the slave position, chained so he can neither sit upright or lay flat, legs splayed so all can see the emptiness of his groin. Slaves get "fed" overnight: a liter of formula followed by a liter of icy water via tube down his nose into their stomachs, dripping all night. every morning Slaves get icy saline delivered through catheter in their dicks. A slave learns to focus through his pain including carrying 3 or more days of fluids in his bladder exacerbated by twice daily administration of diuretics both orally and IM-intramuscular—in his ass, i.e. If the Master or a brother slave wishes to add some fluids, so much the better. SLAVES SUFFER--and The Masters Council has decreed the more suffering, humiliation, pain, shame, the better. A senior slave gets a bare cell, his "private room," bare concrete floor--no bed, no nuthin. He's not impaled & locked in place like other slaves, as he's responsible for the other slaves. He is fixed, kept naked and fed formula via tube like all other slaves and could no more escape than they.
Back to reality... Damned water is still barely lukewarm. I've blown a goddam HOUR. I look at myself in a full length mirror. What looks back looks so strange. I look like a 12 year old. I'm hairless from cheeks to toes. I shave my body daily. My hair is a buzz cut--barely stubble. My body bears the marks of 3½+ years of slavery. I have a deep welt across my boyhole that may be permanent. (It's our BOYHOLE not "asshole" or other namby-pamby term!) Yet, as a "transitional slave," I have it relatively easy--some semblance of normalcy. I go to school, etc., on my own. Most slaves are transported in full restraints by Goons via STV, Slave Transport Vehicle. They live in cells, naked except when in the community, usually escorted in full shackles by Goons. I have some freedom, if I am watched every nanosecond like every other slave in our Community.
We slaves inspect each other. We text/email all violations to the Community Communications Desk. I still have infractions daily. Masters show me a sample every morning. Timmy sneaked into the boys room for a piss at 1:10. (You don't wanna know the punishment for pissing my pants!) Timmy was 1 minute 22 seconds late for math class. Last Wednesday, I got a C on my biology quiz. Masters sent a text before Ms. Frances even returned my paper: punishment pvtrm 1515. Dunno how they knew. Ms. Frances in The Network? Not unless they were Wilhemina and Seanette! I never imagined 2 beautiful boys could be so cruel, control every aspect of my life. I played at "slavery," had no idea how harsh it is. I obsessed over Billy and Sean O'Malley, cummed gallons over them. I did not understand: I was the prey; they the predators. They were very much aware of my fixation. They watched me "top myself" in The Clearing. Now they OWN me--body and soul.
I report to Masters every school day 0700 in the Private Room. Our "Private Room" is the largest of 4 rooms in a long abandoned subbasement, a bomb shelter, 2 stories underground, with 4' thick concrete walls. Classes were held there during World War II, so if the Nazis bombed Limerick, its students would be safe. There were even plans--and I'm not making this up, guys--to mate boys and girls to repopulate the town! Seamus laughs at the galloping paranoia over big bad Nazis destroying Limerick and its citizens. If they did, town children would be safe in their own "Fortress of Solitude,"--Superman eat your heart out--and create a whole new Limerick! It was nuts, but Seamus says "The whole country kissed the blarney stone, laddies, afraid they'd be bombed into oblivion!" Seamus says. "They all but wet their panties, laddies!"
Kids accessed the subbasement classrooms via now sealed entrance in The Clearing leading to a tunnel to the subbasement. Ellis Cosgrove, Caretaker of what then was Limerick State Park, assisted kids into/out of the tunnel. The State Park is now thick woods, between Limerick and Levittown, with a path about 2 feet across--running through it. Ellis' cabin is on the Limerick side of what we call "The Clearing." Legend goes, Ellis kept an eye out for pretty bois and "escorted" them to his cottage. There he tortured, killed and ate them, fed leftovers to Brewster, Hound from Hell, and buried the rest. One night, 60 years ago, awakened by Brewster's howls, The Town Council discovered Ellis' body, put down Brewster and buried them together. Rumor mill was in overdrive so the posse wouldn't enter Ellis' cottage fearing what they might find. Thirty years ago, the man we call The Ubermaster was called to take control of a nascent, disorganized Master/slave community. Old Joe, our high school custodian, took "Mr. O'Clair," to The Clearing showed him Ellis' cabin. He took him to Limerick High and showed him the "Private Room." (Old Joe is reputedly a full-blooded Sioux. "Old Joe's" age or real name? Only Seamus knows and he's not tellin! Seamus is usually an inveterate schmoozer but when he doesn't want to talk, he makes the sphinx loquacious!) Slaves use the subbasement's long-abandoned classrooms if the "Private Room" is almost exclusively Billy, Sean's and mine. Rumor has it The Masters Council will reopen the entrance in The Clearing as a slaves' entrance to funnel slaves into a the subbasement and undergo thorough strip-search inspection by a team of Goons. Master Verdi, our Chief Slave Officer, declares, too much sloppiness, too many slaves not complaint with dress code, too much missing of too many infractions, on too many slaves.
We slaves check and discipline each other each other. If we don't, we BOTH get double punishment. Alex caught Daniel with his undershirt inside out the other morning. Alex was late for class, let it slide. Another slave witnessed & reported both. They were summoned to Coach Mark's office. Coach made Alex paddle Daniel with Coach's Board of Education till his ass bled. Then Coach gave Alex TWICE that. Just as they pulled on shirts and jeans, Coach Mark noted their underwear was bloody. A half-hour each with the razor strop made the point: NO excuses. Coach called their Masters.
Next morning, on the bus, Alex whispered barely audibly, "Pray you never get caught like that, bro!" I hugged him,, took him to the Private Room, and said, "Show me, Alex!" The reason for his pain & hoarseness was obvious: Master Gonzalez had SCOURGED him. Jayzuz! The skin of Alex' back, ass and backs of his legs was damn near flayed off him. I saw hamburger in better shape. I hugged Alex and let him cry on my shoulder. Maybe Masters are right when they say I'm too "compassionate," but Alex' pain musta been unbearable! (We bear it; we have no choice). Dunno how Alex got through the day. He told me he was violated 5 times for bloody underwear. Jayzuz! Even his fuckin dick was bleeding! I violated him, too. Couldn't excuse any of it. Your ass or mine, Alex and if I have my druthers I druther it be YOURS, bro!
Daniel was cited 29 times: sitting too carefully, bloody clothing, a hole ripped in his underwear, somebody's cum seeping out of his boyhole. Tired of the crap, Master Daniel had moi and Will Pierpont, one of our 2 communications specialist slaves, take Daniel to The Clearing for a 2-hour bullwhipping. Will is arguably the most proficient of all of us slaves with the bullwhip.
Will showed me one of his specialties. "Hold his ass wide, Timmy, and I'll get his boyhole and between his legs!" Holy shit! Will gave Daniel 15 of the best right on his boyhole and the bare skin between his legs. Fucker screamed so purty!! Great thing about The Clearing--no one hears us scream except Ellis' ghost. I gave Daniel a "repeat dose" with Will's tutelage. I fucked Daniel hard and dry, wiped my dick on his undershirt, violated and punished him stat for that infraction. What's another 30 minutes with Mr. Bullwhip between slaves?!
Will fisted Daniel as he hung there, screamin his ass off, using only my cum as lube. Will said, "Here's a kewl trick, Timmy--when you're in up to your elbow, twist! Hurts the fucker like you wouldn't believe!" Damn, didn't think Daniel had anything left to scream! Wonder Ellis didn't arise and tell us to shut up & let him rest in peace--or maybe join the party! "Gotta be careful, Timmy, don't lacerate the rectum--keep fingernails cut and twist real slow--fuck it hurts!" Daniel could attest to that! Not much left of Daniel by the time we were done. Not Will's or my problem!
Me and Will wiped our hands and arms off on Daniel's underwear. We rubbed him down with alcohol. Then we made him get dressed. Master Daniel punished Daniel yet again because he was a mess. His clothes and underwear were ripped, bloody, cummy, blood seeping from his rectum. Certainly nuthin me and Will's coulda done! Like Timmy sez, guys, our LIVES are Catch-22! Daniel wasn't pretty next day but most compliant. Didn't even shed a tear when Coach Mark rode his ass harder than usual. No one is sure of Coach Mark's actual status in our Community but we do know he sits at the Right Hand of God the Father Almighty, The Ubermaster, and operates under His aegis. Kevin and Luis might as well be legal slaves. Rumor has it Coach Mark pimps them out. No one asks...
Shit---enuf reminiscing and preening in the mirror. The mirror is not vanity but so I have no excuse NOT to be squared away. Masters "rescued" it from a neighbor's trash pile. Gotta get going. Wonder if cute little Jacob knows how much of the clothes--including underwear and pjs-- his mom tosses, end up with ME?! Jacob's mom is reputedly somewhat overprotective and makes hi m wear tees and briefs. "I don't care what other boys bare wearing Jacob. When you are working and earning money you can buy what you want. As long as I'm buying your clothes and you keep messing your underwear, you will wear what I give you, young man and I will wash your mouth out with soap if you are sass me!" Kinda cool to listen when all the windows are open!
My water is finally hot. I take 4 more tablespoons of castor oil (yummy!), 2 more Ex-Lax, and prepare my enema. I'm so groggy. Masters never had to call to wake me. I musta slept through my alarm. If I complete my prescribed routine, I'll be 2 hours late getting to Masters. But if they come and get me... I usually fast after lunch, Thursday, but like I said, Mommy Dearest made a family dinner and demanded I eat with them. Stepfather woulda beaten the shit outta me if I didn't. Gotta piss and shit sooo bad and I haven't even taken my enema. Dunno how I'm gonna hold it. Maybe GOD will have mercy because Masters will NOT!
I mix my enema--4 quarts of scalding hot water with eucalyptus castille soap + dollop of mineral oil. I lay on my back, open my legs wide and shove the nozzle in without a drop of lube. If I lube & insert it "nice and easy," shit from laxatives, castor oil, and stuff will gush out. So, in me goes a gallon of hot soapy enema laced with mineral oil--guaranteed to clean me out first time, every time! The mineral oil reaches up, grabs my insides and pulls everything out. I hate this sooo much. I hate laying here naked, my legs splayed, as webcams watch the enema go in me. One zooms in my on boyhole so Masters can watch the enema go in me. Bastards get off on that. Good news is I get to do all this myself, somewhat at my own pace. Goons or senior slaves administer most slaves' meds, enemas, etc., and supervise their morning "routines." But doing it to myself is also BAD news. I can't say anyone is "making" me do this. "You like this Timmy! You get off on this as much as we do!" Yeah, damn you, and I hate you for making me admit it!
My enema is in me--fuckin GALLON. I get off my bed, extract nozzle from boyhole, losing a little enema. The enema is so fuckin hot, I'm sweatin rivers even though it's only 40 degrees in here. I gotta do exercises but gonna skip this round. God help me if I lose everything. I gotta EAT it--enema, shit, soap, and all--lick the floor clean, and start all over again. If I puke, I eat my puke with shit and stuff--had lotsa practice. I gotta cut corners today. I'm >2 hours late. If Masters come and get me... I enter the code on my potty room door and wait... I struggle to stand still, quietly, hold my enema, not even squirm. The cramps are sheer hell. And it`s so fuckin hard to hold it. the mineral oil reaches up & grabs your insides and pulls them out your boyhole. The cramps it all causes are HELL-almost worse than the desperate need to shit! I wait HOURS, it seems, struggling to keep my sphincter tightly closed and not give into the agonizing cramps. I'll be whipped if I twitch let alone squirm. Can't even relieve a hardon. And, of course, I'm punished for that--duh.
Finally, the door clicks. I sit on my potty chair and shit and shit and... I may be shittin for DAYS. Gotta do this twice more then get whipped for skipping 2 rounds of exercises and an enema. Should be yet one more additional time. Fuckin oversleepin... If I follow the full prescribed routine, enemas, exercises, etc., I'll be 2 hours late getting to Masters. I'll be CANED for that. No thank you. When we fuck up, we respond with a humble, "No excuses, Master!" and accept our punishment. Sigh...
It all makes me crazy, you know. I'm as gaga for Billy and Sean as that first day, maybe MORE! I am theirs till death do us part, and maybe... I eagerly suffer the torments of hell at their hands. Yet, I'm conflicted: I hate what they do to me; I revel in it. I hate the pain; I love the pain. Don't hurt me; hurt me more. Hack off my balls piece by piece with a dull butter knife in front of the entire school. I'll open my legs for you. No need for restraints! My body, my life, my soul, belong to Billy and Sean O'Malley. I'll have it no other way. If they ever declare it over, I'd be shattered; I could not live. Like I keep sayin, you want answers go talk to "Shrink Erik." I don't seek answers. It makes for too many QUESTIONS--and they're harder than the answers!
So, how did I get myself into this mess? How did it all start? Well, it's a long story and since I may be shittin till 2015...
Like I told you, one day, 3 years 8 months 17 or so days ago, I wandered home along the path thru the Gully that separates Limerick and Levittown and I found Ellis' cabin and all his "goodies." The gully itself is about 3 ½ square miles. The path through it is about 2 feet wide with a few dead end side paths. The Clearing, as we refer to it in almost reverential tones, is about 20 square feet situated in the middle between Limerick and Levittown with Ellis' Cottage on the Limerick side. Ellis was Caretaker of what was then Limerick Town Park. Ellis was a recluse, self-appointed caretaker/guardian of Limerick State Park, fancy name for what even then was a lot of bushes, trees and stuff. Ellis lived in the cabin for 40 years with Brewster, Hound from Hell. They're buried together in an unmarked grave. The Clearing continues to be maintained as a "clearing," even though Ellis has been dead for >60 years. Ellis' cottage stands as it did when he died in 1950. A heart attack, they assumed. Brewster howled to wake the dead! The Mayor, Police Chief, Town Council, police and townsmen, armed to the teeth, came to The Clearing, found Ellis dead. The "posse" shot Brewster to get to Ellis' body, buried them, man and beast together for eternity, then got out!
I told ya, legend has it long before John Wayne Gacy, Ellis and Brewster waylaid young boys coming out of the exit in The Clearing, dragged them to his cabin, tortured them, ate them, fed "leftovers" to Brewster. Limerick had >100 boys missing in the 40s. Townspeople swore they heard boys' screams at night. No one ever was brave/stupid enuf to approach Ellis' cottage even in broad daylight till the Mayor and his "posse," awakened by Brewster's insane howls undertook their "expedition" that morning, heavily armed, unsure of what they might find. Today, almost no one traverses The Clearing, swearing it's haunted by the ghosts of Ellis and Brewster and all the bois Ellis reputedly tortured, ate... Considering the "toys" Ellis' cottage is stocked with and the old-fashioned, bloodstained rack, there may be something to the legends. "Ye don't want to know, laddies, ye don't want to know!" Seamus never speaks of it except to reflect sadly on the bois who went missing during that period.
I ventured into Ellis' cabin curious but apprehensive. I'd heard so many stories... I was eager to see what was there. I saw the rack in the main room, checked it out; it was dusty but worked! Hand-cranked--no electricity--bloodstains and candle wax all over it. Looks like Ellis used candles for more than light! I stripped and lie on the rack, put my limbs in the cuffs, wished I could ratchet myself tight. Easy to dislocate a guy's arms and legs--no regulator to keep from going too far. Wonder how many bois Ellis stretched to the limit and beyond? How many bois' arms, legs, dicks and balls Ellis ripped off on this rack, roasted and ate? Bet Ellis used trial and error to see how far he could stretch his "bottoms," and sometimes it was "error." No arms, no legs! My bad! Like I said, they buried Ellis and Brewster, and left the cabin intact.
I love this rack. Low tech--like I said, no electricity in Ellis' cabin. But it's more effective. You can stretch a guy taut and beyond, little by little. I looked in the closet. OMG--boxes of "toys"--many in almost pristine condition, just dusty! A speculum and a box of sounds, dilatators and what I realize are old-fashioned rubber catheters! Before today's disposables, catheters were autoclaved and reused. Ellis just reused. Like I said, All we know of Ellis is for about 40 years he and Brewster, his faithful canine sidekick, were self-appointed caretakers of Limerick Town Park. Seamus doesn't know how old Ellis was, or remember when Ellis and Brewster were not caring for the Park. Again, rumors abound that Ellis waylaid bois coming out of the access to the subbasement, tortured and ate them, fed leftovers to Brewster. Ellis & Brewster were so feared by Townspeople no one ever ventured there.
I wanted every "toy" used on me and tortured till I screamed myself hoarse, cumming and cumming till I couldn't cum anymore! I dreamed of Ellis stretching me on the rack till my limbs were torn off! I discovered tons of ropes and stuff in a closet. I went outside, tied coarse twine around my dick to keep me hard. I inserted a tiny buttplug in my ass, attached tit clamps. I tied ropes around my wrists and ankles, looped rope around the trees, lay down, pulled the ropes taut, tied them off around my ankles and one wrist. I pulled the 4th wrist tight and held on to it. It was exquisite! I fantasized a gang of men assailed me, tied me spread eagle and did all kinds of horrible/wonderful things to me! (Actually, I dreamed it was Billy and Sean doing horrible/wonderful things to me! DO be careful what you wish for, guys!) I creamed myself again and again. By the 5th time (!) only a dribble came out but I was so deep in my fantasies I was hard again in seconds. The pain was terrible; it was wonderful, it was all mixed up! This became the norm for the rest of my life. I cummed again--a few dribbles--fantasizing "Master" made me cum till I had no more cum to cum then punished me for not cumming! (Masters like to do this to fixed slaves. "Why didn't you cum, slave?" "Master, I can't cum!" "No excuses, slave, you're to be punished!" Catch 22 upon Catch 22...)
I came back as often as I dared not fearing Ellis and Brewster. Let'em join the party! I got sophisticated enough to tie rope around my balls and loop the rope around a tree, holding it taut. I progressed to stronger clamps that bit hard and hurt! Once, I sandpapered my tits till they bled, attached the harshest tit clamps I could find. I tied 3 of my limbs as taut as I could. I put a row of tiny clothespins around the corona of my dick. I lubed a skinny dildo, fucked myself slowly with it, cummed so intensely, I almost passed out! The pain was excruciating and exhilarating! I wiped myself with a ratty old t-shirt, jumped back in my Tommy Hilfiger undies and clothes, put things away, and left quickly, not entirely sure I wanted Ellis & Brewster to join my "party!"
I suppose I got careless. I assumed The Clearing was isolated, no one else daring to traverse the path, let alone The Clearing. So many (fantastic) rumors about Ellis, Brewster & the boys they supposedly waylaid, tortured, maimed, killed, ate... Almost everyone goes via perimeter road/path, 5 miles around the "Park" vs. 2 minutes via path thru Clearing. I spent many afternoons after school "torturing myself." It was breathtaking to be "spread eagle" in hot sun or 2 feet of snow and subzero windchill--typical Long Island winter! I dreamed of a cruel Master staking me out, blindfolded and tittie clamped in the snow and windchill! I'd cum, clean myself, jump into my Tommy Hilfigers, stash things and run! I never imagined I'd have real Masters to whom my gratification meant nothing. That's why, first thing this weekend, Masters will put me on the milker for an hour and drain me of cum I won't make for 3 weeks. I'll be so drained I won't be able to get hard let alone cum for 3 days. They'll whip me for hours in The Clearing. Don't matter if it's -20 and -50 windchill or the fat lady sings or dances a polka: it's over when THEY say it's over. DO be careful what you wish for...
So, I was "topping myself" in The Gully that afternoon 3 years 8 months 2 weeks, 3 days, 15 hours ago. I attached a set of tit clamps, lay down and pulled the ropes as taut as I could. I pushed a dildo up my ass, wrapped a 4th rope around my right wrist and lay back, closed my eyes, and enjoyed sensations that drove me to a shattering orgasm. Suddenly I heard voices. I tried to unwrap the rope from my right wrist but it was already tied off. "Holy shit, Sean, you gotta see this! A slaveboy all tied up, just waitin for us to break him in!" I knew who it was—the O'Malley twins then about 12, with those sexy, half man-half boy voices, coupled with their beauty that even then drove guys mad. I pleaded, "Please let me go, Billy." "Aw, poor baby wants me to let him go! Should I let him go, Sean, or should we have some fun?" "Fuck, Billy, we've always wanted a slave and here's one all neatly packaged for us! We'll take him to our Playroom have some fun!" "Yeah, Sean, let's have fun here first! Let's fuck him. I'm itchin to shove my dick up that boyhole! Bout time you had a real dick up there, boy, never mind that namby-pamby dildo! We been watchin you! You just playin, boy! You need a REAL Master! Now you got TWO of'em! We're gonna fuck the shit outta you, boy! Then we're gonna take you to our "Playroom," and torture you till you can't scream anymore!
They already had me spread-eagle so taut I could only wriggle my fingers and toes. They stretched my balls to my ankles; I thought they'd be torn off! Billy handled my dick and it sprung to hardness--a whole 5 inches! "Lookit this excuse for a dickie, Sean! Need a magnifying glass to find it!" Well, compared to you, Billy and Sean... I told you, first time I saw them changing for gym, I almost lost it. Those magnificent Dicks of Death rising from their hairless groins with big pendulous balls... Jayzuz! But fuck--we all do--Gay straight, something else... Like I said, guys who never give another guy a glance go, "nuckin futz," as Pookie always says, over the O'Malley twins. No wonder little Sam is so crazy with lust for them. I grok it, Sam, I grok it! Sigh...
"You a virgin, Timmy? I betcha he's cherry! I'm gonna take his cherry, Sean!" "Go for it Billy! I'll take sloppy seconds! We'll take turns till we're spent!" "OK, Sean. Let's see how many times we can fill his holes and make him cum!" "Please don't hurt me. Just let me go on my way!" They laughed uproariously at that! Sean untied my legs from the trees, pulled them back, tied them off to a tree in back of me so my ass was fully exposed. Shit. I was in for it. I pleaded with them, "Please don't hurt me, Billy and Sean! Please let me be!" I hated myself for blubbering--it just encouraged them. They undressed and I went nuts all over again viewing those magnificent hairless bodies. Billy and Sean were still boys--about 12. But they were gorgeous even then. And damn--those dicks! Never saw anyone with such "endowments." Their dicks are a foot long, an inch thick. They are perfectly circumcised with perfect coronas. They are beautiful--my blond, blue-eyed GODS. Not handsome, not "cute," dammit, fuckin BEAUTIFUL. Completely hairless, then and now, from neck down, making their magnificent Dicks of Death stand out, making them look much younger than they are and, dammit, sexier! Master Dad had them rendered permanently hairless at age 10 to accentuate those Dicks of Death he had custom-designed. They have big pendulous balls--perhaps why they never run outta cum. They were hard as rocks. I couldn't take my eyes away. I was drooling--shamelessly fuckin DROOLING.
"You like what you see, boy? They're goin up your boyhole. So much of our jism goin up there gonna empty when we're not fillin you. Gonna fill your sinuses with our hot cum!" Billy kissed me, the son of a bitch. I groaned in ecstasy. I'd never kissed a guy or been kissed by one. I leaked like crazy. They laughed as Sean scooped up a finger full of my jism and fed it to me. The horror hit me--those fuckin tree trunks were goin up my ass! My eyes were wide with terror and anticipation. I had dreamed of this! Except in my dreams, I was the fucker, they the fuckees! And now I was gonna be the fuckee! "Timothy meet reality; reality meet Timothy!" Erik always says, with a gentle smile!
"We have no lube, Billy. You gonna use spit?" "Fuck, Sean! I'm takin his cherry dry and tight! Goin right up your boyhole, Timmy. Remember that slave, it's your BOYHOLE, not your asshole!" Billy is slightly more verbose; Sean is quieter. It's scary cuz I don't know what he's thinking. Billy is also the more natural bottom if Sean is no slouch at taking it. There's an intense, unspoken rivalry between them. Anything you can take I can take 4 times more! Very complex, symbiotic relationship. They feed off/into each other, NEED each other. They have as complex love/hate relationship with Master Dad as I do with them! Erik thinks them "fascinating." "Where is Dr. Mengele when we need him?" Erik often quips. OMG, Erik, bro, don't go there!
Billy rubbed a finger across my boyhole. I shuddered in dread and, yeah, anticipation. I WAS a virgin. I'd not progressed beyond skinny dildos lubed with gobs of KY. That was gonna change! Billy spanked my upturned ass. Jayzuz it hurt! "Gonna getcha nice and hot for us, Timmy! Gonna beg me and Sean for our dicks before we're done. Gonna feel so empty without me and my brother fillin you, you're gonna beg us to fill you!" (They are geniuses but like "gutter talk." If Master Dad hears them he washes their mouths out with soap then spanks them for an hour. Do they do it deliberately? Not going there. They get off on taking as much as they give. They are each other's top and bottom, Master and slave.)
Billy used my undershirt to wipe his dick and my boyhole dry. They put a leather collar tight around my neck. Sean tied my dick tight to a ring on the collar. I was spread open, my boyhole, exposed, ready for Billy's dick. My dick was pulled in one direction, my balls in another. I blubbered, "Please don't hurt me, Billy!" I hated myself for being reduced to that. It's become routine: shamelessly begging for mercy even though I know how much such pleading eggs them on. They just laughed. "We're gonna hurt you bad, boy!" Sean removed my clamps, abraded my tits with an emery board till they bled freely, attached vicious clamps and screwed them down. "The real thing baby!" Billy cooed into my ear as he yanked hard on them and I howled in incoherent pain. He stretched my clamped tits out in front of my face. I blubbered like a baby! "Please," I gasped, "they hurt so much!" They mocked me, giggling, "Ooh--they hurt sooo much!" Damn--they DID hurt! I was a mass of pain" my dick pulled tight to the collar around my neck, my balls pulled down to my ankles via cord from the ball stretcher. On top of the pain, I was freezing my ass off. It had to be -20 with serious windchill. And I was spread-eagle in 2 feet of snow! I've learned slaves have no comfort. We can be sent out in -20 windchill in a tank top and shorts, in 95 degree heat in double t-shirt and briefs, longjohns, flannel shirt, corduroys, sweater or hoodies and parka. then punished for being dressed inappropriately. (Claim our Master dressed us like this? We're whipped within an inch of our lives for such BLASPHEMY. Your Master would never do such thing! 99.9% of time, we slaves can do nothing right! Catch-22 upon Catch-22, Sigh...
Then I howled in real pain as Billy entered my virgin hole dry, slowly pushing in his massive Dick of Death. "Hurts like a bitch this way, Timmy!" He chuckled, his voice husky with arousal. "When you enter in one thrust, gets the pain outta the way. This hurts every inch, don't it, Timmy! Gonna fuck you real slow so you feel every inch of my dick goin up you!" Billy kept up a steady stream of "chatter" as he relentlessly pushed his huge dick up my virgin shit chute, if I was screaming too loud to hear much of what he said! I didn't know I could hurt so bad. I couldn't twist away; I was tied too tightly spread-eagle. And if I moved a millimeter, it hurt everything: my tits, balls, dick... Billy went all the way in, pulled back and pushed it home again, very slowly, making it hurt, drawing out the hurt. Thought I was gonna pass out from pain. Finally, what seemed like hours later, Billy spewed gallons of cum up my ass. "You been fucked, boy!" "And you LIKED it!" Billy declared with glee, picking up gobs of my cum from my dick and feeding it to me, gob by gob. Shit. I'd cummed GALLONS. That shame was far worse than having my virginity so violently taken from me. Had I liked it? It had been one of my fantasies. Timmy knows, bois, being raped is lotta guys' secret fantasy! But I had no time to "process" as "Shrink Erik" would say! Billy fed me my own cum, finger-full at a time. I wanted to puke but sensed if I did, I'd eat my puke, cum, snow and all. Shit...
Billy took his brother's place kneeling over my face, his shit-covered dick swinging in front of my face as his twin entered me, cheerfully taking "sloppy seconds." Sean's fuck was a little easier with Billy's cum as lube but he was no gentler. Billy shoved his truncheon down my throat. "Clean your shit off my dick, boy, and if you bite, me and Sean are gonna yank your teeth out!" This was done to them, I learned. As Master Dad trained them to suck, he felt teeth too many times. So, he had their teeth removed and replaced with full upper and lower dentures. Dr. Samson, aka Master Norman, Community Dentist, does this for all slaves. When Master Dad fucks Billy and Sean's mouths, their dentures come out. Master Dad likes them nice and smooth inside and out--never feel teeth again! Cruel "sumbitch" as Master Donald would say. I will learn most slaves are edentulous--their teeth have been extracted and they've been fitted with generic dentures. Slaves never "eat." They're fed formula via tube down their noses into their stomachs. Thus, they have no need of teeth. I certainly knew no more of Dr. Samson's "other life" than I did of Doc O'Malley. Jayzuz--what I didn't know...
Billy and Sean, too, are fed formula via feeding tube down their noses into their stomachs. If they are made Masters, Master Norman will create dental implants. Otherwise, their esophagi will be surgically narrowed and their "food" forever will be formula via tubes down their noses into their stomachs. Like all slaves, they will get plenty of "nourishment" in the form of cum and piss but never again eat real food. A few slaves have "gastrostomys" –opening in their abdomen via which they're fed formula but The Masters Council, our governing body, decreed they want slaves fed formula via tube down their noses. More humiliating. How lucky we are...NOT!
Slaves do NOT eat, no matter what. My classmate and brother slave, Ryan O'Riley, is a concert pianist. When Ryan is on concert tour, Harold and/or Andrew, Nurse Goons, accompany as "escorts," Only liquids can pass through Ryan's surgically narrowed esophagus. He is fed formula by tube, and, of course, plenty of cum and piss. Like all slaves, he is "pissed" once a day then his cath is sealed. If the Goon forgets... A few weeks ago, Ryan was performing in Chicago accompanied by Harold, an exceptionally cruel, horny bastard. Ryan's t-shirt caught in his tit clamps as Harold stripped him. Ryan cried out. Harold put Ryan over his knees and gave him such a spanking Ryan could barely sit on the piano bench next day! Harold also "forgot" to piss Ryan so he went >72 hours without being "pissed." Hope the audience didn't notice Ryan's discomfort and "antsyness" on the piano stool due his almost bursting bladder. Harold wouldn't "piss" Ryan for another 24 hours by which time Ryan was writhing in agony and punished for that. Pissing is a luxury to which slaves are not entitled. Slaves' go at least 48 hours without being "pissed," while being administered diuretics--oral and IM--shot in the ass--twice/day plus full fluids. SLAVES SUFFER. A rule we all quickly internalize.
Harold once made Ryan stand outside for 2 hours on a hotel balcony in just his undershirt for the entire world to see in -40 windchill. Master Verdi took care of the police. Chicago Chief of Police is an "ally.". When Ryan complained about the cold and humiliation, Harold whipped him for an hour with the riding crop Goons carry, then fucked him for another hour. Harold and Andrew are cruel, horny bastards who love fucking and working over a cute slaveboi like Ryan. They like boyish slavebois, and Ryan fits that bill. He's 17, looks about 12. Because of our lack of body hair, we ALL look younger than we are. Ryan is only 5'3" so he looks even younger. All a slave's life, kids... We cry, we cry alone; no one comforts a slave. Masters/Goons give us something to cry about. Yet another Catch-22--we're not supposed to cry. But we can't help crying--we hurt so fuckin much! Managing a bursting bladder, exacerbated by potent diuretics by mouth and shots in the ass, is a unique hell in itself.
If Billy and Sean fuck up their proposed Mastership, Master Dad will have them fixed and permanently enslaved. Does Master Dad want them to fuck up so he can permanently enslave them? Not going there. They confide in Erik because he saves their sorry asses. Erik is a wiz at programming and if it weren't for him, they'd fuck it all up. It's so natural to Amin and Joe, our Geek slaves, they can't teach it! IMHO, Billy and Sean also confide in Erik because he' not Gay, doesn't give a shit about the Community's "protocol," won't report things to Master Dad. and is (among few) unaffected by their sexual allures. (Erik is kinda my "Co-Master," but that's between Erik, Maser Dad, and Billy and Sean and a long story I'll get to later!)
Sean cummed quickly. I was surprised. I now understand they have problems with self-control. They can hold off just so long then they HAVE to cum. They cum gallons even if they've cum 35 times. They're ready to go seconds after erupting, even if it IS their 35th time. They have no refractory period. They are compelled to cum, need release. They eventually exhaust themselves, deplete their cum but not for hours and hundreds of cums. Billy has more self control than his twin. Don't ask me whys or wherefores!
They fucked me and cummed again and again and again for hours of non-stop fucking, never going soft. They alternated holes again and again. I was a mess physically, emotionally... I could not believe I was being violated, RAPED by my Gods. Or was I being "raped?" Rape implies force, violence. Did I consent? Did I want them to take me? FUCK YEAH! I've been reminded a million times: A slave has no consent to give or withhold. Unless our Master deems otherwise, we are subject to inspection, violation, and "abuse" by freebois/men. I'm a Transitional Slave but still subject to these rules. Master Dad has made me available so everyone is free to have their way. I cannot refuse anyone's demands or Master Dad himself will punish me.
Dunno how many times Billy and Sean fucked me, cummed in me, I cummed, or how many gallons I EAGERLY drank of their cum & pee. "If you spill a drop, Timmy, we will whip you senseless. If you puke you will eat every drop of your puke, snow, dirt and all. No bullshit, Timmy." "Yes, Masters!" I replied enthusiastically. My stomach gurgled but I held it all down. Spill/puke up the nectar of my Gods? NO WAY!!! Like I said, I was in hell...HEAVEN. Finally, Billy declared, "Sean, bro, we are done! Two hundred twenty seven loads, two hours and forty three minutes! Not a record, bro, but close to it!" They exchanged deep kisses, their dicks still not fully soft, dangling, dripping freely below their hairless groins. Their balls were somewhat reduced in size but almost as immense as when cum-filled. Remember, Billy and Sean were about 12 then. Today at 15, they remain BEAUTIFUL, not much taller, those Dicks of Death bigger Dicks of Death, those voices remain half-boy, half-man and they are so goddam seductive they'd probably have the Pope outta his white cassock beggin for those dicks in both "holes" within 5 minutes. Like I said, grown men, guys who would NEVER give a guy a second glance go weak in the knees, tremble and babble incoherent at just sight of my GODS. . Sated, they expertly lashed my wrists and ankles to tree limbs and hauled me, poles on their shoulders, Billy taking the lead. As we processed, Sean whipped my ass and back with saplings. They hauled me like this, bleeding, cum dripping from both "holes," as I would learn to call them, to their home. If I thought I was in hell now... They took me in a side entrance, cut me loose, held me tight. "This is our `Playroom,' Timmy!"they announced. Jayzuz! I didn't know what some of the devices were, but wanted every single one used on me, immediately! I was scared; I was thrilled! Be careful what you wish for, guys!
Billy and Sean put me on the rack and quickly, expertly stretched me out. They took off their shirts and jeans, stood stripped to t-shirts and boxers. They looked sooo sexy! I salivated aware what was under those boxers--yellow with blue stripes. One threw his blue polo shirt over my face. The other rubbed his underwear-clad torso over my face. They laughed as my dick sprung to dripping hardness and I groaned helplessly. "Boy, you got it so bad for us!" they declared taking turns slapping my rock hard dick, laughing their asses off as my whole body turned red. I couldn't believe I'd responded like that! I wanted MORE.
They inserted a catheter in my dick, inflated the balloon, made sure the cath was patent, stuck the other end in my mouth secured it with surgical tape so I couldn't spit it out. "Plenty to drink, slaveboy--right from your own `spigot!'" They attached a cockring with numerous tiny sharp prongs around the base of my dick. I howled at the onslaught of pain. "Keep you nice and hard for us, slave, and keep you from cumming!" and it did. My dick was never harder! I didn't need any "devices" to keep me hard! They tightened my ball stretcher a notch leaving my balls shiny and exposed They shaved every inch of my body, dry, FOUR TIMES--even my dick! They whacked my balls with their belts for a while just to amuse themselves. It hurt so much, prongs digging into my sac, my balls squished in their sac, Billy and Sean hitting them with their belts. But the hurt, strangely, felt so GOOD. They extended the rack another notch. I was sure all 4 limbs were gonna be pulled off. I couldn't cry out with the drainage end of the catheter in my mouth. They blindfolded me so I couldn't see what they were doing. I was terrified; I was ecstatic! I was in hell; I was in HEAVEN!
They gave me a shot in my ass to "help you pee, Timmy!" I felt them scrub my dick and balls. I smelled Ben Gay. It felt cold initially then burned. Oh Jayzuz it burned! And I couldn't utter a word. I had to keep swallowing or I'd drown in my own piss. They ran a tube down my nose into my stomach, washed out the contents of my stomach, "'Gastric lavage,' Timmy, get used to it! You'll be very familiar with the process!" I felt something drip down the tube into my stomach. It was icy, and I shivered as I felt each drop go down the tube. "Gettin formula, Timmy--how slaves are `fed!'" I was in hell; I was in heaven. Oh God--I didn't know what I was! I've never hurt so much in my life. But it felt so WONDERFUL. For the first time, the pain/pleasure continuum bewildered me. You ask the "Shrink" how the body confuses pain and pleasure. Some of us can do that. Most slaves can't eroticize pain; pain is just pain. It makes slavery so unbearable. You hurt and hurt 24/7. No one has full-body non-genital orgasms like Pookie. But some slaves learn to channel pain into "pleasure," for lack of better word. But for slaves who are not natural masochists or can't learn to eroticize pain, slavery is unbearable, but you bear it because you have no choice. SLAVES SUFFER.
I appreciated the stark contrast between fantasy and reality. Reality hurts! One twin put a crusher on my balls, smiled as he slowly screwed it down, squashing my balls flat. It hurt so bad; it hurt so good! They attached a cable to a ring on the end of the ball crusher and pulled my flattened balls toward the end of the rack. They attached clamps to each side of my catheterized dick. They pulled out the ones on my tits attached them to cables coming off the ceiling. They attached smaller clamps in back of those already on my tits and strung them to the ones on my dick pulling it taut on my belly. I couldn't push up to relieve the pain in my tits and my dick pulled so tightly up to my tits. I couldn't push down to relieve the pain in my balls. I couldn't twitch. I howled, convinced they were gonna pull my balls, dick and tits off my body, winch my arms and legs right off my body and leave me a ball-less, limbless torso. I howled in extreme pain: it was horrible; it was wonderful! Which is pain, which is pleasure? Where does one end and the other begin? I dunno, guys... Billy and Sean or should I say, MY MASTERS, just laughed.
"Hi boys! What are you up to?" I recognized Doc O'Malley's voice. Finally, someone to put Billy and Sean in their place, make them stop the bullshit and release me! "Hi Master Daddy! This is Timmy, our new slave! This is the boy we told you about we found topping himself in The Clearing! We're breaking him in, Master Daddy!" Master Daddy? WTF??? "That's nice boys! What have you done so far?"
They removed my blindfold. I listened as Billy and Sean related the sequence of events to the man I knew as their father, Doc O'Malley, town physician who takes care of us from birth to death. Doc O'Malley smiled and kissed his sons. He held each twin with an arm, pulled off their undershirts and twisted their tits till they groaned in pain. They stood in their boxers, almost giddy with anticipation. Master Dad then expertly attached and screwed down vicious, serrated tit clamps. They gasped at the pain, rising as their father pulled them up by their clamped titties now dripping blood freely. The trio exchanged deep, passionate kisses. I've learned these last 3 ½+ years, Billy and Sean are each other's top/bottom, Master/slave, lover but always, their dad's slaves. Master Dad never let up on the chains attached to his sons' tits. The O'Malley twins are 5'6. Master Dad is 6'4". Due to their genetic engineering they will never grow in height. No one knows who designed the O'Malley twins, but Master Dad's specifications are well known: the most beautiful young men, maximum height 5'6", metabolism designed so they never gain weight and of course, those Dicks of Death and ability (curse?) to orgasm repeatedly for hours past the point of exhaustion. Did he have some sort gene for lust for pain, some sort of "Master/slave gene" programmed? We don't ask...
Billy and Sean rose on tiptoes as Master Dad pulled them to tip toes by their tit clamps. With his other hand he pulled down their boxers. They quickly stepped out of them, their Dicks of Death rising to great hardness. Master Dad kept tension on Billy and Sean's tits. Their faces were contorted in pain, blood freely ran down their clamped titties, tears streamed down their beautiful faces but their Dicks of Death could not have been harder. "Let's put on a show for your new slave, what say boys?" "Yes, Master Daddy!" Billy and Sean responded in unison, voices husky with pain and arousal.
Master Dad released me from the rack & put me on the floor to watch the "show," hands cuffed behind my back, dick tightly clamped to my tits, balls chained to a spreader bar holding my feel apart. My catheter was still in both ends. If I sat back I'd pull my balls off and maybe my dick, too. With my collar chained without slack to the back wall, I couldn't sit forward to ease the pain in my tits. How in-fucking-genious! I'll learn this is the classic slave position. It becomes AGONIZING. That's the idea, of course! Long experienced slaves tell me you never get used to it. Djuan , in a rare unguarded moment, says he almost cries every night when Master puts him in position. Djuan is a senior slave but a senior slave without slaves to supervise. He's the senior slave of Levittown Medical Center, supervises all slaves employed by LMC or assigned there as duty slaves. he's a kind of affable, Black not Hispanic 20something dude. Because he does not directly supervise slaves-he is Master Ethan's only slave-he is treated like, held to all the dictates pertaining to any other slave. Master Ethan is Director of Nursing Education at Levittown Medical Center and has complete authority over ALL slaves employed/assigned there. Not a man to fuck with. And if Djuan fucks something up he is punished in front of the entire cadre of Levittown Medical Center slaves. Djuan is almost impossibly squared away, helluva role model but we know what his life is like and not one of us slaves would trade places. Master Dad turned Billy and Sean to face me, inserted catheters in their dicks, instilled several large syringefuls of fluid in each twin's bladder, and clamped off the caths. He attached wrist restraints, turned them to face each other. clamped them tit to tit then each tit to small chains hanging from the ceiling, pulling them so taut they had to stand on tiptoes to keep from ripping their tits off. Master Dad pulled the chain increasingly taut so no matter how high on tiptoes they stood, they couldn't relieve tension or pain. He clamped their dickheads together, each twin's piss slit to the other, smiling as they hissed in pain. Their dicks remained hard enuf to pound nails. He inserted a huge double-headed dildo into each twin's mouth. Each swallowed his half. I swear, it went down to their stomachs. Jayzuz! They groaned as Master Dad inserted a huge double-headed dildo deep into each twin's rectum. Each tit clamp was pulled taut to the ceiling. Their pain from this alone must have been exquisite. Master Dad injected something into each twin's balls evoking muffled shrieks of pain through the dildos deep in their throats. Dunno how they could breathe around the dildos. He put a ball crusher on each twin and slowly, deliberately crushed their balls flat. They howled in pain through their dildo gags. Their dicks remained rock hard. He attached chains to their wrist restraints, raised them high. He pressed a switch and raised them about 5 feet off the floor.
Master Dad tightened Billy and Sean's ball crushers, took a huge bullwhip, stepped back, and let it fly striking Billy hard between the shoulder blades. Billy let out an almost inhuman shriek of agony! Master Dad never let up, alternating between twins leaving deep large welts in each's back/shoulders/asses/thighs/lower legs, smiling at their howls of pain, muffled by the dildo in their throats. He did another injection into each twin's ass cheek. "It's a diuretic, Timmy. It will make them produce gallons of urine, but with their catheters clamped, they CAN'T pee. It will enhance their `enjoyment', won't it boys?!" Billy and Sean mumbled "Yes, Master Daddy!" through their dildo gags. How the fuck they could breathe through them, I dunno.
Master Dad whipped his sons viciously for an hour, back and front, turning them several times. He curled the whip under their groins, whipping their crushed balls. He paused occasionally to tighten their ball crushers and all the clamps. Their pain must have been fierce yet their dicks never went soft. Their inability to cum intensified their agony. Like I said, wonderful blessing/curse: they never go soft, have no refractory period. But, the converse is they HAVE TO CUM, need release. It's a special agony for them if they cannot get release.
Master Dad positioned Billy and Sean, fronts, tits and dicks, clamped together. He picked up a new tool. "This is a single-tailed whip, Timmy," he explained. "It may be the most devastating instrument ever invented by man. My boys fear, loathe it. The bullwhip is not as destructive. But first..." Master Dad rubbed down each twin's dick with Ben Gay. Their shrieks were inhuman. He removed the double-headed dildo in their boyholes, coated both heads of the dildo liberally with Ben Gay then reinserted it in their boyholes, smiling at their incoherent howls of agony. He instilled more fluids into each twin's bladder via catheter, & gave each another injection in his balls, explaining, "Very special pain, Timmy, 2ccs of saline directly into each testicle. There's nowhere for it to go! They have to bear the pain till their testes absorb the saline."
Master Dad let the single-tailed whip fly across Billy's butt. A bright red welt appeared immediately over the top of Billy's right asscheek, bleeding freely. His howls of pain and struggles to get away from the brutal instrument signaled how terribly that first lash hurt. Their bodies were already welted and bleeding from the bullwhip. Master Dad allowed Billy no time for recovery but continued lashing his ass, up & down, top, center bottom, crisscrossing welts, blood flowing in rivers. He then did the same to Sean who shrieked even louder. Sean has less pain tolerance than Billy--again the more natural top to Billy's natural bottom.
Master Dad made one final turn on their ball crushers then hung pails from rings on their ball crushers. "If I keep tightening the crushers I could eventually rupture their testicles. There's no pain like it! But for now..." I watched him add five 5 lb. balls to each pail. 25 pounds hanging from each twin's crushed balls, Jayzuz! He re-coated their painfully erect dicks with Ben Gay then injected 2ccs more saline into each testicle. Both bodies were lacerated front and back, bleeding freely, their bellies increasingly bloated from pee. Musta been potent doses of diuretic. Their dicks remained painfully hard. I watched them struggle to cum, understanding: a guy CAN'T cum when his balls are crushed. It created a special hell for Billy and Sean. They NEED to "get off." Like I told you, the downside to having no refractory period is not only CAN they cum again and again, they HAVE TO. An interesting quandary: They're exhausted but need to cum. Their dicks remain rock hard, their bodies demand another cum and yet another after that until their store of cum and ability to cum are exhausted. Like I said, with balls crushed flat, they CAN'T cum. And Master Dad injecting saline into their crushed testicles created a special living hell. I will learn there is, indeed, no pain on earth like it.
Master Dad wiped them down with alcohol-soaked gauze then whipped them bloody all over again, working methodically, head to toes, toes to head, back & front. They screamed in pain through their dildo gags with every lash of the whip. Master Dad made each stroke of the whip hit paydirt, a "money shot." Their bodies were bloody from necks to toes. Their pain must have been unbearable. I will learn, also, that however unbearable the pain, slaves bear it because WE HAVE NO CHOICE. Slaves are completely at Master's whims, available for his use and abuse 24/7. A Master can do whatever he wishes to his slave short of killing it. Yeah, A slave is, technically, "it." It's no accident that in fixing, all of a slave's man parts are cut away/out except his dick and that hangs there inert as wet spaghetti. The purpose is, as Slave Rules so aptly put it, `EMASCULATION." A slave has no man parts or organs except his lifeless dick. ergo, Master Robert or Master Lee pronounce at the end of fixing: you are no longer a man but a SLAVE. The convention is rarely adhered to. But a permanent, fixed slave is technically not a male but an emasculated, sexless slave, "IT."
Then Master Dad ordered, "Cum boys!" The twins struggled to orgasm. With their balls crushed they could not. They were in extremis but could not gain relief. Master Dad was a pro--knew exactly what he was doing. An interesting paradox: Master Dad and other Master physicians/nurses of our Community are as adept at inflicting pain as he is relieving it. He smiled as his sons struggled desperately for release but, for the first time in their young lives, UNABLE to. They could not transcend agony to orgasm. Strange way for a father to get his jollies but the Master Dad/Billy and Sean relationship is anything but "typical." "I like to force my boys to orgasm IN SPITE OF PAIN." His emphasis was clear. "But with their balls crushed and in terrible pain, Timmy, they can't. It's a special hell for fixed slaves. They have no testes, prostate, man parts. They can't orgasm, `get off' on pain. Pain is just pain. Only very select few can transcend pain and achieve non-genital orgasm." I had no idea what Master Dad was talking about. It was all so new to me--and overwhelming. Talking to brother slaves I will develop some understanding. But perhaps I won't "grok" it till it's MY turn to be fixed.
Master Dad left Billy and Sean writhing, crying hopelessly in awful pain and frustration and casually tossed 2 more 5 lb. balls into the pails swinging from their crushed balls. I watched the twins struggle with pain and frustration of not being able to climax. Master Dad was indeed, forcing orgasm IN SPITE OF PAIN. They have incorporated that in my routines. I get no easing of the most extreme agony until I cum. Try it--you won't like it! Billy and Sean could not cum because their balls were crushed flat and there musta been 100 lbs. of steel balls in the pails hanging from their ball stretchers pulling their crushed testes to the floor. It was impossible for them to cum. Master Dad had obviously taken them further than ever. He loves to escalate. Every few weeks he takes them to a new apex. But never before had he made it impossible for them to achieve orgasm. . Master Dad intensified the scene, cheerfully tossing another 5lb. ball into each pail attached to each of his sons/slaves balls. "You will not be released until you have cum, TWELVE TIMES!" Billy and Sean shuddered, wailed. Two more 5lb balls in each bucket, another application of Ben Gay, another increase in tension of the chain attached to their clamps. More strokes of various whips and canes to their asses. I couldn't imagine their pain. Today, after 3 ½+ years I know well. It was HELL for Billy and Sean as they struggled against >150 lbs of steel balls dragging their crushed balls almost to the floor. Their lacerated bodies oozed blood front and back, shoulders to ankles. They struggled to breathe thru the double-headed dildo deep in their throats as the Ben Gay coated double-headed dildo abraded their boyholes. They managed a "climax" of pain and frustration-- not orgasm. A sorta "shuddering" but never release so direly needed. Even the O'Malley twins cannot cum under such overwhelming pain. They managed a feeble final spasm, utterly exhausted. Master Dad smirked. Damn--he was enjoying himself! "You're not trying hard enough, boys!" he declared and tossed 2 more balls into each pail, cranked up the chain to their tit clamps one more notch, refreshed the coating of Ben Gay and applied 5 more vicious strokes each of the cane to their asses. Their eyes widened in horror, tears streaming down their handsome faces now contorted with intense agony. Obviously, Master Dad had never taken them this far--inflicted such pain and expected them to cum, forcing orgasm in spite of pain. Masters demand fixed slaves cum even when they are anatomically, physiologically incapable of it. They're punished because they can't. Catch-22 upon Catch-22...
The dildo in their throats kept Billy and Sean from reaching each other's mouth to ease their pain. They only could look into each other's blue eyes now deadened with pain, willing each other to somehow orgasm in spite of their balls crushed flat to bring some relief to their suffering. They, of course, could not. The profoundest masochist couldn't bring himself to any kind of "orgasm." Well, Pookie, maybe, but Pookie is one of a kind. NOBODY has full body orgasms like Patrick Michael Zulu! He can't "cum," of course. He's fixed and incapable of genital orgasm. But Pookie has incredible full body orgasms no one groks. Master Dion, our Endocrinologist half joking says if he were a researcher, he'd make Pookie a study subject to figure out how he does it!
Master Dad continued his assault with a variety of implements. According to the wall clock, 47 minutes elapsed before they managed a cum-less "orgasm." By then they had 200 lbs of steel balls in the pails attached to their crushed testicles. Their bodies were bloody messes. Master Dad spared nothing-not even their dicks--alternating instruments even using a vicious penis scourge. Their boyholes were badly abraded by the dildo. Their mouths were bruised from the dildo down their throats. They were beyond exhaustion. But Master Dad announced, "That was seven. You have five more to go boys!" They shuddered in dread but also, anticipation. They love it when Master Dad escalates "scenes," pride themselves on taking more each time, each twin trying to outdo the other. They managed 2 more feeble "orgasms" encouraged by Master Dad throwing balls in the pail dragging their flattened balls further to the floor. "That's nine orgasms,' and two hundred pounds, boys. I will add 10 pounds every 5 minutes till you manage FIVE final orgasms.' I know you are not getting relief. You cannot cum. You cannot even achieve retrograde ejaculation.' (Cum goes back, not out). I want you to show Timmy what slavery means. Five more, boys, five more" With that, he tossed a 1b. ball into each twin's bucket, pulling their crushed balls to the floor. I thought he said 3 orgasms but now he said 5. I'll understand this to be typical. Does the Master contradict himself? Very well, he contradicts himself (thank you, Walt Whitman!) and the slave never says shit! A slave NEVER contradicts his Master, never says, "But Master, you said three' now you're saying `five!'" that would make it TEN and said slave would end up in a bloody heap on his cell floor!
A stock prod, full blast, was another "encourager." They managed another feeble "orgasm," looked at Master Dad, pleading with their eyes, "This is it, Master Dad, we can't manage any more `orgasms!'" Master Dad had no pity. "Five more, boys!" and added more balls to each pail, taking up the rope to each pail an inch or so to keep it off the floor. I could not imagine what their pain must have been like or its intensity. I was confused again because by my count, it shoulda been FOUR. But the Master has the right to contradict himself, reset parameters, make any decision he sees fit. There are basically TWO considerations. He cannot kill his slave or cause his death. The slave can WISH he were dead. Billy and Sean reduce me to that every goddam Weekend in Hell. I hate them for that but within 2 hours they have me begging, shamelessly, "Please, Master, kill ,me, please end this suffering." They of course do not; they could not if they wish. The other consideration is slaves MUST go to school/work. The Masters Council is very clear and emphatic: slaves do NOT lie around their Masters' "dungeon" in chains all day. Slaves go to school, work, earn their keep. And whatever sleep a slave gets/doesn't get I what sleep he gets/don't get. And if the stoopid fucker falls asleep at school/work, he's in for a very special hell. If a slave is legitimately ill, there are 2 Nursing Goons on call 24/7 for every area of our Community. And Peter Dubois can be almost anywhere in 10 minutes even in a blizzard. No one is sure if Peter is part fish, part polar bear but nothing stops Peter even an ice storm. Master Fred had a heart attack in the middle of an ice storm last year and Peter was there in 15 minutes! The ambulance couldn't get there but Peter took Master Fred in his car and was at the ER in 12 minutes!
It took another hour or so, several more "rounds" with assorted whips, paddles, (causing the pails attached to Billy and Sean's balls--now filled with at least 250 lbs. of steel balls--to swing freely. Master Dad cheerfully added balls at random, tossing them into the pail with abandon. He wielded cane and penis scourge plus frequent applications of stock prod to "convince" his slaves to "cum," before they managed those last "orgasms." I don't know how they did it. The most profound masochist on earth could not achieve orgasm in the throes of such extreme pain and fatigue. I couldn't imagine the extent of their pain and utter exhaustion. But they managed something to satisfy Master Dad. By the time he finally said, "OK boys." Billy and Sean were whimpering, struggling to breathe and cope with profoundest agony. They were exhausted, beyond crying. I could see the utter fatigue in their faces and bodies. They had long ceased to enjoy the pain or scene's escalation. Pain was just pain. And Master Dad never let up. Billy and Sean's bodies were bloody from chest to toes. He even did a helluva "bastinado" scene, viciously caning the soles of their feet. Their Dicks of Death finally hung limp and bloody as they were long since past arousal never mind orgasm. I don't know how they managed the final "orgasms," or how Master Dad coaxed them from Billy and Sean's exhausted bodies. The scene, according to the timer, went on for over SIX HOURS. Master Dad never relented, never gave his sons any opportunity to recover. If they had not "orgasmed" those final times he would have cheerfully continued for hours more and never tired. Billy and Sean could barely whisper.
Master Dad let them hang there, utterly spent, beyond exhaustion, for 15 minutes then slowly removed the steel balls from their buckets, one ball at a time. He smiled at their whimpers as he jostled their pails removing each ball. He unhooked the pail from their balls, slowly unscrewed their ball crushers, easing each a notch at a time to allow their crushed testes to return to normal size. He left their catheters clamped, gave them another shot of diuretic and injection in their balls. That elicited a whispered but heartfelt, "Thank you, Master Daddy!" when he extracted the dildo from their mouths. They frantically reached for each other's mouths to gain relief from their fierce pain, but Master Dad forbade it. "No kisses boys. Process the pain on your own."
And I wondered, so what do we do for encores? I shoulda kept my mouth--and brain--shut! Master Dad smiled and said, "Well Timmy, you've had quite a show! Now it's your turn! You're going to endured what my sons, your Masters did with each of them! "Boys, he's all yours! Use your imaginations! But no bullwhip, no single tailed whip. Anything else is fair game! Have fun boys!" he said with a smile!
I groked it: if Master Dad is smiling, I'm in BIG TROUBLE! MY TURN??? OMG--he's joking. I can't take it. I was stunned. Dear God they gonna do this to ME??? I will DIE! I understood for the first time that being a slave meant I had no choices. God help me, I was gonna LEARN what it means to be a slave. "I can't take this!" I blubbered, embarrassed, ashamed of myself for being so quickly reduced to that. "Don't matter to us, Timmy!" my Master croaked in the whisper that was all they could muster. Oh God I AM gonna DIE! God if you are there, help me! God--WHAT HAVE I GOTTEN MYSELF INTO?????? To be continued...
So what HAS Timmy gotten himself into? Will he "die?" Hint: if he does this story is gonna come to an abrupt end. Stay tuned for the next thrilling episode of Timmy and his Masters!
Authors Note: I'm not exaggerating about the paranoia of WW II. My dad had to build a bomb shelter when he built the house in which I grew up. The chances of some big bad Nazi bombing our hick town were significantly less than Stalin having a Rosary Rally but fear was widespread and infectious. Think US post-9/11.
Again, my apologies for the inordinate delay in posting this. God WON'T put 48 hrs. I'm NOT a kid anymore. I was ill then my Partner was quite ill and I had to drive like a maniac several hundred miles. I stayed with his brother and had limited computer access. I also fractured 2 bones and ended up with my hand in a cast for 4 weeks. To add to the fun, I am only semi-retired, still seeing clients at an area practice and haven't as much free time as I expected! Life IS what happens while we're making other plans! Or, as the real life Joel and Seth always say, "Nu, man tells God his plans. God laughs!" Old Jewish proverb!
I welcome your feedback, thoughts, suggestions, criticisms, etc. at Ghostwriter_xyz@yahoo.com Just give me a little time. I'm also covering Facebook, Linked In and now Twitter. And I am only semi-retired, still seeing clients 3 days/week 18-24 hours/day. God will NOT put 48 hours in a day. Answer keeps coming back, if SHE did that, fools like moi would work 49/48 and immediately demand 72! (Debates on the Gender of God or the sexual orientation of Shakespeare by appointment!)
IMPORTANT NOTE: Guys, never, never, EVER force someone to retain his urine!!! And certainly don't even think about giving him diuretics on top of urine retention. My friendly neighborhood Nurse Anesthetist and a urologist friend laughed hysterically at this idea. Good way to have a very DEAD "slave" on your hands and you in prison for manslaughter at the least!