Disclaimer: By entering this site you agree that you are 18 years of age or older, and that the content of this site is legal in your country or jurisdiction.
Warning: This erotic fiction contains sexual experiences between fictional males. If this is not your thing, leave now. Furthermore, any similarity to any person, place or thing living or dead is merely coincidental.
There is no safe sex in this story because it is fiction. Remember: In real life, play as safe as possible preferably no exchange of bodily fluids.
My stories are copyrighted and are not available for use under any condition. Please forward all comments to douglas.marx.4@gmail.com.
Support nifty.org. We have all shot our loads reading Nifty. Show appreciation at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html. Thank you. Enjoy.
Story codes: M, MM, SM, bd
Please check out my other Nifty.org stories, which can be found "Prolific Authors" section at http://www.nifty.org/nifty/frauthors.html and scroll to "Douglas Marx". Thank you.
Born – Chapter Twenty
If Phil's statement telling me to be myself wasn't enough, my conversation with fag drilled in me that I was a slave now; not an employee. I was Ben's slave. The desire that I had all these many years of my teens was given to me in one day's worth of conversations. This was not what I had fantasied being a slave would be like. My masturbatory practices in front of the computer screen or reading Nifty envisioned a life where I serve a man sexually, cleaned and cooked for him, bowing to his every whim. That is essentially how my relationship with Mr. Brown went and it did not turn out well.
As Sir Ben's slave, I, on many levels, was my own man. I worked incredibly hard managing the slaves and cooking. I had sex with Phil, fag, Dad and various slaves around the compound while Sir Ben gave no concern to any of my behaviors. Yet, fag was completely correct. Sir Ben had me under is control. I had gotten what I wanted. I just never thought it would look like this. Sir Ben inspired me to be his submissive. He cast a spell that made me willingly kneel before him. I felt an incredibly strong urge to tell him that I now devote my life to him. I said to myself though, `In due time, Jim. Sir Ben already knows. The moment will come where it will be appropriate to express your feelings.'
I was lying naked in Phil's arms in Sir Ben and Phil's bed. Phil's fresh man juice was dripping out of my ass. My cock was withered and plump from the experience of cum shooting out of it. Much of my leftover jizz was on Phil's impressive, rock hard abs. Phil kissed me lightly on the lips, "You want to talk, boy, about what I said to you the other day?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Go on, boy. What have you concluded?" Phil asked.
"I am a slave. I thought I was an employee because your company pays me. Yet, I understand now that I would be here regardless. I love you, Phil, with all my heart. Yet, I worship Ben, your partner, my Master." I paused hesitating to continue.
"More, boy." Phil demanded.
"I also love fag. He is my rock. I don't think that I can ever fuck him again. I see our relationship being a pussy bump from now on."
"I am frustrated that my Dad is such a good slave. He is so much better than I. He dutifully goes about his day thinking little of the esoteric aspects of all this. He gets up, does his work, eats, exercises, cums from his daily whippings, goes to bed, repeats; without any concern. I, on the other hand, am so much in my head. Growing up thinking about becoming a slave, I felt I would be so much better at it than I am."
"Yes." Phil acknowledged leading me to say more.
"I feel with this new level of understanding that I should give up my relationship with you to devote my life to Ben. I should devote myself 24/7 to him and let you, fag and my Dad go. I also think that I should become a slave in the true sense of the term and no longer be paid. This would show my further bowing to the superiors of my life, you and Sir Ben."
"Are you done, boy?" Phil asked pushing me away from his chest as he looked deep into my eyes while lightly twisting my nipple rings creating a new stir in my loins.
"Yes, Sir. I am done."
Phil went through each point to allow me to appreciate better what was happening here. "Boy, you are a slave. You always have been even though we pay you. Ben and I wanted you as our main slave. We started talking about you after your ring ceremony we catered. We were impressed by your abilities not only as a chef, but as a servant. Your mindset was obvious. You were a slave to Mr. Brown. We talked about you, but thought little of it because you were someone else's. We simply said to each other, `that is the type of slave we are looking for.' End of discussion until you escaped from Mr. Brown and became on-the-market again."
"Thank you, Sir. That is very kind." I acknowledged the compliment.
"The fact that we pay you is insignificant. If we asked, you would give us all the money back. We will not ask that. Nor are we going to stop paying you. If something would happen to us, you would have some money to fall back on. There is plenty to go around. We don't need it. We also want you staying as a legitimate member of society. Doing that serves our purposes well. We don't see paying you as an obstruction to your devotion to us as a slave. You already stated that you understand that Ben is your Master. Your devotion to him is unwavering.
"Besides, all slaves are paid. Fag, your Dad, the others, all have a roof over their head. They all are fed. They receive proper medical care. That is as much compensation as dollars and for most of them, they are happier in that agreement than if they were an employee."
"Ok. I get your point. I just felt that I am not a true slave if you pay me." I said.
"Well, you will just have to work that out in your head or through conversations with your slave advisor, fag." Phil joked. "We will continue to pay you until we decide differently. Shut up and be grateful."
"Sir, I am very grateful."
"I know you are, boy. Now let's talk about each of these relationships. Your primary relationship is to Ben. He is your Master. Have you seen how Ben works? He doesn't want a lot of attention. He wants attention when he wants it. He doesn't like having to devote energy to appease a slave. If you let go of the rest of us and turn your attention completely to Ben, he would become annoyed with you very quickly and sell you to the worst of the slave traders. That was your problem with Mr. Brown. You had no distractions. Ben and Mr. Brown have a lot in common. They don't want fawning. They want devotion, but not to the point where it takes their energy. Consider yourself lucky that you have me to fuck you and love you. Consider yourself lucky that you have fag to keep you company and be your slave spiritual advisor. Consider yourself lucky that you have your Dad to look up to. Without us, you would be so over-the-top with Ben, he would have to let you go."
Phil continued "Ben has powerful energy. I have never met anyone else like him. Serve him with devotion and distance. That is what I do."
Phil's statement shocked me. "Phil, what do you mean, `you do'?"
"I am under Ben's spell. I am not his equal. I am not a slave to him. I am his partner. However, he controls me. I have been his since the day we met. I am also a top, so our relationship is different. Words will never adequately describe our partnership."
Phil did not go further nor did I ask. Fag told me not to attempt to figure out Ben and Phil's bond.
"Now, boy, regarding your Dad; did it ever occur to you that your Dad went through a lot to be in the mindset he is today? He is twenty-two years older than you. He had twenty years of submissive experience under a Dominatrix and a Master. You are twenty and on your second, (and final) Master. Maybe when you are his age or even another ten years, you will understand the depth this man has gone through to be the happy slave he is today. Your biggest challenge I see, is your inability to live in the moment. That is what drives you crazy about your Dad. Boy, it takes life experience to live in the moment. Twenty-year-olds, slave or not, do not have that life skill."
Phil's directness sounded like fag; however I did appreciate his point.
"Did I miss anything?"
"No, Sir."
"Good. Now that you have some better understandings of what is going on here you may become less in-your-head. I hope so. You are a good boy. You are a good slave. I love you. Under different circumstances, I would marry you and make you my husband. That is not nor ever will be. We can be lovers. We can be friends. Remember, there is a higher power here. That is Ben. Appreciate it boy. You have the best of both worlds."
I leaned over and kissed Phil deeply. I felt such love and passion for him that I wanted to fuck him. He sensed my desire and willingly opened his anus to my slave cock. When we collapsed into each other's arms again before we fell asleep for a post-coitus nap, Phil reminded, "Don't think that is going to happen that often, boy?" He smiled as he closed his eyes to dreamland.
Processing all the information about me was going to take time. Being twenty, time runs slow. I wanted to have the wisdom of my slave father now. I could barely comprehend what was being said to me. I finally decided that the only thing I could do at the moment was show up just as I had for all these months at the farm and, to the best of my ability, stay out of my head.
There was some help coming that would keep me out of my head. Not because I practiced some spiritual mediation to relax. The help came from the busyness of the slave business. Sir Ben called a meeting of the five of us. We met in Dad's office at the conference table. When I walked in the door with fag in tow, there sitting at the table was Dr. Gatz and his surgical nurse; the one I called nurse Master. I sat down acknowledging their presence through a nod.
Sir Ben spoke, "The only one who doesn't know who these fine gentlemen are is fag. Jim, you will explain to him later."
"Yes, Sir."
Sir Ben continued, "Our slave business manager will speak now explaining the new direction our company is going."
Dad spoke up. "Recently, I met with Sir Ben and Phil to explain some areas of the business that we were not taking advantage of. We are moving slaves through here at a full capacity rate. Therefore, the way the business is structured we have maximized our earning capacity based on the way we currently handle the slaves. We are leaving an incredible amount of money on the table not offering addition services to our clients."
"Our slaves are simple folk, usually young men with no other skills. They are good for field work and fuck work, but little else. This type of slave sells for a moderate price as they are a dime a dozen. In order to maximize profits without expanding are facility, which is an expense that would be detrimental to the company currently, if we offer skilled slaves, then we would get more profit."
"Skilled slaves usually come in categories such as me. I am an educated slave with business acumen. I sold for significantly more money than your average eighteen-year-old twink slave because I had something beyond sex to give the purchaser. Although, as you all know I am skilled with my unique talent for cumming while being whipped." Dad joked and the room chuckled.
"I would like to propose upselling on two fronts. The teen and early twenties slaves here learn how to cook and clean beyond their skills as cunts for clients. Phil will be in charge of teaching these types of slaves how to be proficient in these areas."
"There is also a new phenomenon of male slave that is a result of the challenges of being a male in today's cutthroat world. I don't know if you all have noticed the number of slaves in their mid-thirties to mid-fifties coming through our doors these days. These men have sold themselves to us just as I put myself up for sale a while back. The main story behind these men is that they tried to be successful out there in the world. They may have been married and raised a family. They believed in the American dream of the white picket fence, two-cars in the garage life. Only the dream became a nightmare. Many of these men lost their jobs and started working in new jobs where they are way overqualified for. They have lost their homes, cars, bank accounts, families. In an act of survival hoping that they can perform duties under decent living conditions as a slave, they surrendered to us."
"These men are best suited to become manservants. They may have sexual skills to some clients who are more attracted to maturity than twink. Yet, the biggest asset is that they are educated and willing to work hard. My son will take on the role of teaching them how to be proper manservants. He has a limited experience in this area; however, Sir Ben, Phil and I are confident he can train them well."
"The other area that needs work is making our slaves more attractive. This is why Dr. Gatz and his surgical nurse have come on board with the company. They will be in charge of exercising the slaves to develop their bodies for peak desires. This means both groups; the twenty-somethings and the forty-somethings."
"Fag, this means that many of the slaves will be put on diets that will help their muscle mass. This will be more work for you; however, you will have additional slave help from the ones practicing their cooking skills taught by Phil. Dr. Gatz will give you instructions as to the type of food necessary for each slave's needs in making them studly muscled."
"Also Dr. Gatz will perform any necessary decorative surgeries. Some clients want ringed slaves, such as my son. Some clients want eunuchs. Some clients want tattoos. Some clients want teeth removed for better cocksucking. Some clients don't want to hear sounds from slaves. Most clients want programmable ID chips installed in their slaves. Dr. Gatz is a highly skilled surgeon who unfortunately for him, fortunately for us, lost his practice and is in need of a "job". His nurse is in similar position. His nurse will be responsible for making sure that each slave heals properly."
"Now I have told you how we are going to offer "upsell" to our clients. We will not need to increase the number of slaves coming through our facility. In fact, we will probably reduce down to a change-over rate of five per week from the current ten. Regardless, Sir Ben and Phil will make significantly more money by providing upsell services than to keep running the cattle through unskilled."
Dad sat down. His body language through his entire speech was one of a confident business executive. If he was wearing clothes, one would think he was a highly paid professional. He was so brilliant that no one paid attention to the fact that he was completely naked, totally hairless, and sometimes uncontrollably erect while chained to a large iron ball resting on the floor beside him as he stood to lecture. When he was finish, his manner shifted back to the obedient slave he loved being. I wondered if it was hard for him to have to be so authoritative for that period of time. To me, he looked exhausted when it was over.
Sir Ben stood and spoke. "You've all heard what is to happen now and what your duties are. I'm sure you will all do an outstanding job. Dismissed."
This is what I meant by I would not have any time to think about me anymore. I was going to be super-busy teaching slaves the finer points of being a manservant. I was incredibly excited about my new capacity. I only had to deal with the slaves that were my students. What a relief. Sir Ben went back to handling the slaves en mass. Sir Ben was the savviest of all of us in slave cooperation. He was the hypnotist. He was the occult. He was the wizard.
Sir Ben picked three slaves to be our advertising for our new products. Over a period of three months, these slaves would turn into pieces of art. Dad hired a professional photographer that he knew from his days under the spell of the Dominatrix. Apparently, the Dominatrix had to work a lot with Dad to get him to surrender completely to her. One of her ways of manipulating him was to have him photographed as a sex slave. She told him that he must always perform well for her or she would distribute the photos to my mother, his family and his employer thus ruining his life. I questioned how much of a threat that really was to Dad other than what would happen to me as a child. Part of me believes that if he had been exposed, he would have had relief from the pain of not being a full-time servant.
Dad befriended the photographer who obviously was cool about this type of stuff. When Dad developed the ad campaign Dad called him. The photographer came once a week to document the progress of each.
The first slave was picked for piercing and tattooing. Dr. Gatz was a frustrated artist. He desired to work with his hands constantly. The first slave was ringed similarly to the way I was on the nipples and cock. Further rings included his scrotum pushing his balls away from the base of the penis. His earlobes received a stretching with rings inserted in the center of the lobe. The auricle of the ear received ten small chrome rings. Small rings replaced what once was his eyebrow. He had a large nose ring that fell to his upper lip.
Dr. Gatz then went about building the slave's body slightly to make his lithe muscles stand out well. Once Dr. Gatz felt that the slave's body was perfect, he started to tattoo the slave. And, I mean tattoo the slave. Upon completion, the slave's entire body except for his face was a masterpiece. I am not a fan of tattoos particularly because they have such a sort shelf life before the skin on a body changes and the art becomes distorted. I am grateful my Master does not believe in tattooing. Yet, I have to admit the slave looked incredible. This slave was destined for a short "self-life" anyway so it really didn't matter.
Finally, to create the fact that this slave was to be used as a piece of art (or sex) and nothing more, Dr. Gatz injected the slave's penis corpus cavemosum with hardening silicone. Thus, the slave had a permanent erection. The ad campaign included video of the slave masturbating with his swollen, unnatural looking penis.
I heard through the slave trader grapevine that the slave was used as a statue on the lawn outside of the estate of the Master whenever there was a party. Arriving guests would be greeted to a live fountain. The slave was administered IV solution to ultra-hydrate the statue along with being forced to drink gallons of water. This insured that the statue flowed in an upward display for at least an hour during the guests' arrival. The slave was, of course, lit with all the appropriate lighting one comes to expect of a fountain at night.
At some point in the evening festivities, the slave would be brought indoors so that everyone could admire Dr. Gatz signature handy work. This provided much publicity for Sir Ben and Phil's company. Most times there was a charity raffle. The winner had the option of masturbating the slave to climax in front of the crowd, thus providing the ultimate fountain experience, or taking the chattel to one of the bedroom suites to examine the art more closely. Within a year or so, this piece of entertainment was old news on the circuit and the slave was sold to a company that specialized in worn out slaves. Usually, this meant the slave was sent to a farm or mine for its final days. Working in those conditions would be extremely difficult under the best of circumstances; however, with a permanently erect penis, the slave's life would be more miserable than his fellows.
The next piece of advertising was simply for sex. Dr. Gatz built the body up stunningly once again. I would have loved to have fucked that, but I did not have time anymore for such pleasures. Once the body was perfection, Dr. Gatz removed its teeth. This was so the slave could be the ultimate cocksucker. Dr. Gatz also did some plastic surgery on the hapless slave's rectum so it looked like a female vagina. Furthermore, Dr. Gatz castrated the slave turning him into an it'. Dr. Gatz loved spaying slaves. We had to watch him because he would get so involved sometimes he didn't completely read the printout on what the slave was supposed to have and we would have an extra eunuch on our hands to dispose of. Dr. Gatz then gave the slave massive quantities of estrogen. I am at a loss as to understanding why a client would want a male that looked like a female. Why not just go out and get a female slave? But, I ain't the buyer and like fag would say, it's none of your business.'
The final piece was one of my creations. The slave was a thirty-eight-year-old educated, handsome man who had sold himself into slavery because of bad financial luck. His wife had left him and his kids wanted nothing to do with him once he didn't have money for them. He was the perfect candidate to be a manservant. True manservants need to be smart. They need to understand the sophistication of the client. These clients may or may not expect sex, but they do expect perfect behavior. My slave had it all in spades. He was willing to have homosexual sex and to do a Master's bidding in exchange for the understanding that he would have a roof over his head, be warm at night and have three meals a day. Now, once a slave sells himself there are no guarantees; however, what client would pay large dollars for this type of professionally educated slave/manservant and not use it as it was designed. The odds of ending on a large estate taking care of a wealthy family are close to 99%. This was worth the risk for this slave and most others I worked with. He saw no other way out of his free life dilemma. He hadn't gone through the surrender that my Dad had with his being a born slave. My slave didn't feel he was born. He was just accepting that this was the best he could do if he wanted to continue living.
Dr. Gatz did little to change this slave other than remove his hair follicles from everywhere other than his head. He worked him out so that his body was what a male of his age in good physical shape should look like He was gorgeous when he was done. When he was dressed in his butler uniform he was so sexy that I took it upon myself to fuck him several times prior to his sale. I think he appreciated experiencing gay sex so that there would be few surprises on the other side of the auction block.
One night, weeks into this new routine, I was lying with fag in bed. I leaned over and kissed him.
"What was that for, Sir?" Fag asked.
"I love you, fag. Thank you for being with me and being my slave advisor. I don't think I could have coped if I hadn't met you."
"You are welcome, Sir." Fag responded.
"I also want to thank you for being so blunt with me putting me in my place in life. You realize, though, this means I will eventually stop being a top and will no longer be able to fuck you. In fact, I don't feel like fucking you anymore."
Fag rolled over on top of me and started to rub his hard cock on mine. We kissed and made magnificent love to each other. The sex was gentle, yet invigorating. We spurted at the same time. We fell asleep in each other's arms. I guess we were now at the stage of our relationship where we were going to bump pussies. I was fine with that. I was too exhausted to keep up the `top' act any longer. My anger, which had spurred it all, was diminished. I was the most happy and content I had been as an adult.
Your thoughts and feelings on this story are extremely appreciated.
Please send any comments to: douglas.marx.4@gmail.com