// Thanks for the feedback I've received thus far. It's very encouraging, so keep it coming.
This chapter picks up where the previous chapter ended, so if you haven't read chapter 2, I encourage you to do so. Enjoy! K //
Chapter 3
The boy looked like he aged a decade since the video was taken. He had deep lines in his face, his hair was shaved and there wasn't a spot on his body that didn't have a bruise or the mark of some sort of whip on it. The boy was naked but for an iron collar around his neck and some sort of cage around his penis. Tom hoped for the boy that it wasn't the same as he had seen being put on the boy in the video. The video that was recorded four years ago.
However happy Tom was to see another human being - especially someone that didn't look aggressive - his body became heavy with disappointment when the cell door closed right after the boy entered; there was no window of opportunity for Tom to escape.
Tom looked at the boy. There were so many things he wanted to ask, so many questions that he hoped the boy could answer. But Tom couldn't find the words to form a question. His mind was trying its hardest to form a sentence that would make any sense. Without success. No matter how hard he tried, the only word his mouth uttered in the end was a cry with barely any sound: "Help."
The boy ignored it and looked at Tom with absent eyes. He started speaking: "Listen carefully. I will tell you some basic rules and explain what's going to happen to you. You can ask questions at the end."
The British accent the boy spoke with fitted his European look. His skin was pale and looked like it hadn't seen sunlight in a long, long time.
"You are fortunate to have been chosen to serve", the boy continued, "to serve those who are superior. Those who deserve to be worshipped and to have lesser people at their will. For inferior beings like you and me there is not a more privileged duty to be called upon.
"You are now at a processing facility where you are being assessed by doctors and psychologists. They will compose your slave profile, which will be used for a blind auction. If there is a buyer willing to pay premium for an untrained and unbroken slave, you will be transferred to his care. If no one is willing to pay the target value, you will be trained by the Group. After training, you will be attending an auction where potential buyers can see and feel you and get a demonstration before a public bidding takes place. If you aren't bought, you will continue to work for the Group, as you by then will have done during training, and at every next auction your starting value will drop, until someone buys you or you become worthless.
"But you don't have to worry, you will find your Master soon enough. A boy with a body like yours, with such a nice figure and with a huge cock like that, is high in demand. If you're not sold in the blind auction, you probably will be after training.
"You might not believe it now, but you are very lucky to be chosen for this new life. You get to worship and serve someone superior. All your decisions will be made for you and you will take your sole pleasure in the fact that you are an object of lust, in the ownership of someone better than yourself. It is like paradise, your only goal in life will be to keep your owner satisfied. You might not believe it now, but soon that is the only thing you'll do and, more importantly, the only thing you'll want to do."
Tom couldn't believe what he was hearing. Was this for real? He only had to glance at the boy in front of him to know that it was dead serious. But all this talk about being owned, Tom couldn't image what it meant, nor did he want to find out.
The boy continued.
"These are the rules you will follow:
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You no longer have a name, you will respond to whatever your superior calls you. You do have a number. Your number is 237;
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You didn't have a life before becoming property of the Group. Any mention of your fantasy of it, is prohibited;
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You are to fulfill all orders being given by any member of the Group;
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You are responsible to keep your body and the cell or cage you are staying in clean at all times. No piss is allowed to be kept in a bottle, bucket or on the floor;
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You are never allowed to touch a superior or another slave unless instructed to do so by a member of the Group;
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You are never allowed to speak unless instructed to do so;
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You are never allowed to touch yourself when not in chastity, unless instructed to do so by a member of the Group.
"If you don't follow the rules, you will be punished accordingly. Your new owner will have his own rules, but these are the rules while you are in possession of the Group. You will find that they are put in place to help you become a true servant. They will make you feel safe."
No matter how unreal that last sentence sounded to Tom, the boy spoke with conviction; he meant every word he said. For a brief moment, Tom imaged what he would look like after four years of captivity. Probably nothing more than a shell of his former self. He could imagine how he would look physically, after comparing the boy in front of his eyes to the boy he had seen on the grainy footage. But he couldn't imagine himself being this brainwashed.
Tom made a promise to himself; he would not let his spirit be broken. No matter what they would do to him, he would savor at least the tiniest feeling of hope and keep faith that his chance to get out of this hell would come.
"Do you have any questions? This is your one and only opportunity to ask them with permission of the Group", the boy said in a calm fashion. His appearance hadn't changed at all during anything he had told Tom.
For a moment, Tom thought about not asking anything, he felt resilient and didn't want to play along anymore. But his disorientation and the dozens of questions racing through his mind took over, he needed some answers.
"Who are you?" Tom asked.
"I am whatever the Group wants me to be", said the boy.
Tom impatiently dismissed the answer: "But what's your name, where do you come from? How old are you?"
"I am whatever the Group wants me to be and that's all I want to be."
The boy sounded almost like a robot. Tom asked the next question on top of his mind:
"Where am I?"
"You're in Thailand, in the domain of the Group. That's all I can tell you and all you need to know."
"What happens if I'm bought in the blind auction?"
Speaking the words `if I'm bought' aloud gave Tom a nauseous feeling. It was all very abstract to him, but despite that, he was afraid to hear the question answered.
"If you are bought at the blind auction, that means you'll be transferred to your new owner without receiving training by the Group. If you are an anal virgin and an unbroken slave, your base value will be high, so you will have to be lucky to be bought by a an owner who is willing to pay that prize and cares enough about his servants to spend his time and money breaking them."
"Breaking?", Tom's voice, still worn out from the screams for help, could only utter whispers thus far. But this word came out loud and clear.
"Yes, of course", the boy said in the same generic way he had answered every question Tom had fired at him. "You are foul and undeserving, spoiled by an unbalanced world that has lost track of the natural order. You will be useless until you know and feel that your only pleasure can come from serving your superior, your master. Your corrupted soul will have to be broken in order to fulfill its destiny."
The boy answered with some impatience in his voice this time. It frightened Tom. Why didn't the boy seem to understand that this whole concept of being owned -- and especially of being broken -- was so unimaginable for Tom? "Why are you telling me this", asked Tom.
"Because the sooner you understand and accept the path in front of you, the better. Once you come to terms with being what you are -- a slave, a toy for those who deserve to play -- the easier the process will be. You still have a lot to learn, but learning can be fun and doesn't have to inflict damage that might discourage potential new owners."
The answer puzzled Tom and he asked what the boy meant.
"The harder the breaking process will be, the less value you will have. If you have to be hit on every muscle of your body, if all the bones in your legs have to be broken, it will leave traces. You are smooth now; you have gorgeous hair, an incredibly beautiful uncaged cock and an ass that has never been used. The Group wants you to remain this way as long as possible, because it is good for your market value. You will never be able to repay the Group for giving you this opportunity, so to accept your faith, stay in shape and follow their orders is the least you can do."
The boy still didn't make any sense to Tom. The answers Tom was getting were almost casual, like they were matter of fact and Tom was stupid not to figure it out himself.
"What happened to you?" It wasn't the question on top of his mind -- that was `how do I get the fuck out of here' -- but it was the only question Tom could hope to get a useful answer to, hopefully some information that could give him a clue about his whereabouts or his captors. Maybe he could use it to form a plan.
"Unlike you will be, I wasn't an object in the auction after I was chosen by the Group to serve them. I met a member of the Group online, met him for a date and was then asked to play a game. I agreed and haven't regretted it since. He blindfolded me, took me into the basement of a large building and escorted me into a cell just like the one we're in now. He removed my blindfold, ordered me to suck him -- which I started to do even before he finished his sentence -- and after that he fucked me until he came in my ass. From that moment on, I had found my destiny."
The boy's story couldn't be true. Tom had just seen the footage of him desperately trying to escape a heavy chain around his ankle, like the one Tom was tied to at this moment. Before Tom could confront the boy with his lie, the story continued.
"Because of my age at the time, the Group decided I could serve them best by staying in their control, pleasuring all men they felt were worthy superiors, in any way I was ordered. I am proud to have been a personal object of lust for all of the Group's elite members and their most respected associates." The boy's battered body could only suggest what the `elite' had used him for. Maybe he had been young and fresh at the beginning, but looking at the boy, Tom feared that the so-called superior men had soon lost interest in the wearing flesh of the teenager and kept trying new things to get some excitement out of him. Where the hell was this path of servitude leading the boy? Just another question Tom feared the answer of.
"I've been told you probably need to piss and I've been ordered to help you." While he said it, the boy got on his knees and placed his head with his mouth open just in front of Tom's long but soft penis.
"There's no way I'm going to piss in your mouth", said Tom. "Stand the fuck up."
"I can't take orders from you. My orders are to swallow your piss. It would make my masters happy and therefore it will make me happy. Please let me swallow your piss."
The boy's assessment had been right, Tom really couldn't hold it much longer. Listening to the boy had helped postpone the urge he felt before, but now, with the boy explicitly talking about it, Tom knew he was only seconds away from his bladder forcing out a stream of hot piss.
In an act of defiance, he turned away from the boy and started to piss towards a corner of the cell. It was a relieve to let go and ignoring the playbook of his captors felt even better.
"No!", the boy shouted.
He leaped towards Tom and tried to grab Tom's waist so he could throw his face in front of Tom's penis. But Tom was already standing, so he had the upper hand and could hold the boy off. A puddle of piss was forming in one of the corners. The boy, now realizing Tom would not let him come near his dick, started to lick the piss straight of the ground.
The cell door opened. Two Asian men entered the cell. They weren't the same as the guards that had escorted Tom to the examination room earlier. These two men were bigger and looked a lot more intimidating; especially because of the official security outfit they were wearing. On the side of their shirt was a nightstick and one of the guards used his in a swift movement to hit the side of the boy on the ground.
In Thai language, they seemed to order the boy to stop licking the piss off the ground and to stand up with his face against the wall in front of him. The most aggressive looking guard grabbed Tom by his hair and forced his entire body on the ground.
"Lick it up, all of it!" he shouted to Tom, even though he was only about half a meter from Tom's ears.
Tom refused. The anger he had felt before was still present in his body. In fact, it was growing within him.
The guard started to smile and said: "Do it, or we kill him." His colleague swung his rubber stick to hit the boy on all the bruises he already had.
"You have three minutes to lick it all up, or the boy will die. And don't think we will move him out of here if he does."
Even though the boy made barely any sound, Tom knew the pain had to be excruciating. This was another battle he couldn't win so he pressed his mouth against the concrete and slurped the liquid as fast as he could. He tried not to think about what he was putting in his mouth and swallowed it as soon as possible.
Even though he tried, he couldn't suppress the taste of his own body fluid. Much to his own surprise, the taste of the liquid wasn't that bad. He took it in only a few drops at a time, as much as his tongue and lips could suck off the floor. It was the taste of the dirty floor that made Tom's stomach turn, but he knew he had to prevent throwing up. That would only make things worse. Within a minute, Tom had licked and sucked it all off the floor and the guard stopped beating the boy.
The boy was still standing with his hands pressed against the wall, but Tom could see his legs tremble, like he could collapse any second now.
The other guard pulled Tom's hair to get back on his knees and looking upwards. With his other hand, the guard opened his zipper and got out his equipment. It was a small cock; soft and almost hidden between a thick bush of dark pubic hair. While he held his dick with his left hand, his right hand was still pulling Tom's hair.
"Open your mouth and swallow, faggot", ordered the guard. Tom complied, still seeing the beaten boy in the corner of his eyes.
A stream of piss entered his throat. This was completely different than the puddle he sucked of the floor. The piss was warm and had a strong taste. Tom tried not to think about it and swallow it all as fast as he could without choking on it. Luckily, the guard already finished after about ten seconds. After spitting in Tom's face, he let go of Tom's hair.
Tom felt angered and humiliated. He wanted to defy the guards and the group of people that were holding him captive, but instead of resistance, they seemed to push Tom further into their grip with every action that was taking place.
The guard that had just lessened Tom's thirst by sending his piss down Tom's uneager throat grabbed something out of his pocket. It was a blue pill and he forced it in Tom's mouth. While he pressed his hand firmly against Tom's face he ordered -- again - to swallow. Tom's mouth was still watery, so it wasn't difficult to force the small pill down his throat.
"That's Viagra, which you probably don't need faggot. You are going to fuck our boy here and you better enjoy it because it might very well be your last chance ever to dump your seed."
The boy that had been standing against the wall didn't need instructions to drop to his knees and put his soft lips around Tom's cock. A cock that, even though it wasn't hard, looked impressive to all the men present in the cell.
It struck Tom that another man was sucking him, that he was taking part in gay sex. Despite all the clips he had been shown on the monitor, Tom hadn't really processed the fact that this whole operation seemed to center around the lusts and needs of certain gay men. Tom wasn't homophobic; some of his classmates back in Paris were gay and he had never seen any problem in their sexuality. Many of the books Tom had read featured gay characters and Marcel Proust was one of Tom's favorite authors.
It wasn't the physique of the worn out boy that made Tom hard. He still wasn't what you call horny. But it didn't take his dick long to respond to the amazing feeling the boy was giving him. While his wet lips slid up and down Tom's growing cock, the boy's tongue played with the uncovered knob and touched all the right places. Neither Tom's ex girlfriend nor any of the girls he had sex with during his trip in Asia had given him this feeling. His cock was throbbing but no matter how hard it got, the boy took it deep in his throat. Whether he wanted to or not, Tom was enjoying the perfect blowjob. Even though it came from a boy... this abused, beaten and brainwashed boy.
The boy stopped, pulled his mouth away and turned around, pointing his ass towards Tom. There was no hair on his body. Tom noticed a trail of precum dripping from the cage around the boy's penis. The boy couldn't get hard with the construction around it, but it looked like he would've been otherwise. How could he enjoy being abused like this, Tom would've asked himself if he didn't have a more urgent situation on his mind. He had to fuck the boy in front of him.
"Do it", the boy said. "I want it. There's nothing I want more. Fuck me."
Tom glanced at the guards. They stood below the camera, probably because they didn't want to be in the footage. Tom realized him being sucked, drinking piss and fucking the boy was all part of the assessment the boy had talked about. Would the video make its way to the men bidding in the auction? Another question Tom didn't have time for. When Tom noticed one of the guards reaching for his weapon, Tom moved forward and pressed his cock against the boy's ass.
It was different from fucking a girl. Very different. Tom tried to penetrate the boy's ass and expected his cock to go in smoothly, but it was dry and pushing too hard didn't feel comfortable. He needed some sort of lubricant, but there wasn't any around. There was still some of the boy's saliva on Tom's 23 centimeters, but was it enough to fuck with?
"Fuck me, fuck me deep!"
The boy sounded eager, but if this was already hurting Tom, wouldn't it be much worse for him? Tom grabbed the boy's thin waist and pressed their bodies against each other. Tom's dick slid in inch by inch. He moaned, partly from the pain the raw ass was inflicting on his cock, but, the further he penetrated the boy, the more the moans were caused by pleasure.
He was now all the way in and moving back and forth. The feeling was amazing. It was so tight and felt so raw, so pure without any rubber or lubricant between their bodies. They had overcome a shared pain and were now reaping the pleasures of their perseverance. Tom forgot about the guards, the cell and all the rest for a brief moment. For a moment it all felt right. He felt a connection with the boy that was taking him. Not an emotional one, but a physical one. It was the kind of physical connection Tom had promised himself to look for when he was in that plane to Singapore.
The moment ended abruptly when one of the guards ordered Tom to fuck the boy harder.
Tom felt the anger inside him boil up again. Only this time there was a way to release the anger; by fucking the boy harder and harder. Tom was doing exactly what the guard had told him to do, but not because he wanted to follow the order. He needed this physical release.
He fucked the boy so hard and so deep, that the boy couldn't help but moan. Tom's movements were out of his control. His body had taken over. After less than a minute, Tom wrapped his arms around the boys upper body and pressed it against his own while an explosion of seed filled the boy deep within.
"Perfect", said one of the guards.
When Tom let go of the boy and he slid his still hard cock out of his cum dump, he noticed there was blood dripping from the boy's ass. He had abused the boy and he had enjoyed it.
To be continued...
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