THE FATE OF A POOR MAN'S SON, PART 18
By Master Redbeard The bumpy road to healing
This story involves erotic situations and actual sexual contact between males - as well as humiliation, exhibition, and much of the usual stuff for this genre. If you are not at least 18 years of age (or whatever legal age is where you are) go away now! If you are offended by the content of this story go away now! If you are in a jurisdiction in which it is illegal to read or possess such fiction stories go away now (well, it would be better if you could get the hell away from that jurisdiction). And if you are someone who cannot distinguish fantasy from reality, please go away and get some help.
I welcome reader response (no flames). Include name of the story in title line. You can reach me at redbeardedsf at yahoo dot com.
Location of previous chapters on SLAVENOW 1. 2652 2. 2659 3. 2660 4. 2663 5. 2666 6. 2668 7. 2670 8. 2698 9. 2707 10. 2737 11. 2738 12. 2742 13. 2840 14. 2841 15. 2843 16. 2844 17. 2864
THE FATE OF A POOR MAN'S SON, chapter 18
By Master Redbeard (redbeardedsf at yahoo dot com)
It was odd, being a slave without any real work to do. My exercise routine was demanding and took at least five hours each day. And then there were the treatments and the observations.
Dr. Red had a group of graduate students working with him. Most of them truly believed in his ideas and looked up to him. But there was one who was skeptical and kept challenging Dr. Red's claims. Late one night as he was swabbing my back and buttocks one last time, Dr. Red asked if I had any questions.
"Master? I'm permitted to ask questions about my treatment?" When he assured me it was OK, I asked how come he kept the skeptical graduate student. I knew that there was a lot of competition for research assistantships in a university like FLIT, so Dr. Red must have had his pick.
"How much progress could I make if there were nobody here to challenge me?" he asked. Then he spoke to me about scientific theory and about the nature of inquiry. It was odd. I was a slave lying naked on a mat. He was treating my skin, but only because I was a research subject. But here was this distinguished professor speaking to me in a way that respected my thoughts, in a way that told me he wanted me to learn.
This was the first time since my enslavement that I was speaking to someone in this way. Suddenly I remembered my love of learning and all sorts of things I had learned in school, and I was bringing them up in speaking with Dr. Red. Of course I was taking care to call him Master or Sir as our conversation progressed.
Something else happened during that conversation. The feel of his hands on my back became sensual. My penis rose to full stiffness under me. During my time with Judge Snow - the malnutrition, the pain, and having to serve his disgusting obese body - I had lost all sexual feelings. Now it was the touch of this middle aged professor and the sense that he was treating me with respect and caring that made my cock fully hard. So many things seemed odd to me.
After that Dr. Red would make a point of talking to me most nights as he treated my back before bedtime. I felt warmth for this man that I had never felt before for anyone. He never called me "Boy." He always used my name.
On the weekends, Master Steve would pick me up in his Jeep with Sam alongside him. I was kept caged in the back seat but the two of them included me in most of their conversations.
My third week locked in Dr. Red's office I woke in the middle of the night and smelled smoke. I rattled the bars of my cage, but I knew nobody would hear. I felt heat through the floor. I knew there was a fire on the floor below. I hit my head against the bars in frustration. I had been through so much and now when I was finally with people who were kind to me and who made me feel almost like a human being, I would be burned up in a fire.
Then I heard sirens. I heard a clamor of people and I heard what sounded like hatchets on walls. But the sounds came from the floor below me. I heard the noise get closer. Someone broke the glass on the office door and called, "Anyone in here?"
I was stuck behind the bars on the closet door but I yelled back, "Sir, please, I'm here. Please, sir, get me out."
The firefighter pulled his head back from the doorway and I heard him say, "Just a slave here. After we check for free men, we may want to get him out."
Those filthy bastards! But before I could even yell a curse after them, they were tramping down the hall. There was much hubbub, but I couldn't tell what was going on. Then the noise started to die down. I sensed that the fire was out. Nobody had ever come back to try to rescue me.
I curled up in a ball but I couldn't sleep. I don't know how much time had passed when I heard footsteps running into the office. "My God, Wally! Are you OK?" It was Dr. Red, his face flushed and he was out of breath.
His hands were shaking when he opened the cell door. Then he grabbed me around and hugged me to him. His hands gripped into my flesh so that it almost hurt. And yet it was the most wonderful feeling in my life. He was hugging me! I could feel his heartbeat through his shirt. I could feel his breath on my neck.
Then he suddenly pulled away from me and he seemed embarrassed. I looked down at the floor. He was awkward as he moved back toward the door but then strode out of the room with confidence. A minute later and I heard his voice from the hallway. I had never heard Dr. Red's voice so loud and so angry. "You were going to leave that 20-year-old boy to burn up in the flames?" he shrieked.
I heard the voices of two other men as they moved toward the room I was in. I quickly got back into the closet and pulled the cell door shut. This would have been the worst time for Dr. Red to get into trouble for leaving me unrestrained. Alongside Dr. Red was a fire chief and a white-haired man who I would learn was head of his department at the university.
The fire chief never looked at me as he said, "Sir, we have our standard procedures and we are charged with rescuing free men before any slave." The argument got thick. When the fire chief was told that there were no free men nearby, he said that there was no way he could know that. Then the fire chief asked what the fuss was about, "The university has insurance. You woulda gotten the full cash value of your slave within a week."
The department chair seemed flustered and tried to explain, "My good man, any slave on these premises overnight is a research subject. The research going on here could bring tens of millions or hundreds of millions of dollars into the university coffers."
Talk of money brought a new expression to the fire chief's face. He was apologetic to the white-haired professor and began explaining how they could get certain labels and signs so that emergency personnel would know that there was a special value associated with a slave.
Dr. Red's face turned redder than his beard and I thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head. "That's not it, damn you. It's Wally here, he..." He turned his back on the other men and shouted, "Just get out. Both of you please get out."
The white-haired professor stayed behind for a moment and said, "Calm down, Red. We'll discuss this at the next department meeting."
Dr. Red looked at me and I thought I saw tears forming in his eyes. He pulled open the cell door tossed me slave shorts and a tanktop. Then he shackled my feet together, put a leash on my collar, and led me out of the building without saying a word.
My mood was like a roller coaster. First I felt dejected. This man who had respected my mind, who spoke to me of philosophy and science, was leading me shackled into the parking lot, reminding me that I was still just a slave. But then I thought about how Dr. Red had stood up for me. I thought about how angry he had been that the firemen didn't rescue me. I thought about the way he had run into his office and embraced me so tight, his heart beating so rapidly. He cared about me. He was a freeman and a master and he cared about me.
He opened the trunk of his car and then paused. He looked right into my eyes and said, "I'm sorry about you having to ride in the trunk, Wally. I don't have a slave cage."
I truly didn't mind climbing into the trunk at his direction. He had told me he was sorry. That was perhaps the sweetest thing anyone had said to me since my enslavement.
Dr. Red had a small house on a large piece of property. He led me to his bedroom and told me I would sleep in the room with him. I knew that slaves were required to either be locked up or stay in a room with a master. He laid a bedroll on the floor and had me lie on it. Then he reapplied a thin coat of the special ointment to my back.
I watched as Dr. Red slipped off his clothes. He stood wearing just a pair of striped boxer shorts. His body was probably really impressive back a dozen years or more. Now he was a handsome middle-aged man - a small beer belly hung over the waistband of his boxers and he had thick hair on his chest and belly and legs. I saw the sizeable lump in the front of his boxer shorts. When I saw the power in his butt and his thighs I breathed a little faster thinking of how that would translate into this man's fucking skill.
He climbed into bed and looked at me for a long moment. Then he told me to come into the bed with him. I hopped up and made no attempt to hide the erection sticking out in front of me. He guided me to the other side of the bed and had me lay carefully on my stomach as he checked the cream on my back.
"That erection you had, Wally, that's a good sign." I waited for him to continue. "When you first came to me your penis wasn't very responsive. I'm pleased to see your body is coming back to its natural state."
Then Dr. Red rolled over to go to sleep. He didn't touch me. He didn't ask for a blowjob. He simply went to sleep. From that point on, Dr. Red took me home with him on weeknights. It kept going on the same way. He would lay me on the other side of his bed, slather me with the ointment, and then roll over to sleep.
Six weeks had passed since I started treatments on my torn-up back. The weekend began as usual with me soaking in a tub, while Sam sat beside me and watched. I was used to seeing the big bulge in the front of his slave shorts. But this evening it was more than a bulge. There was a thick pole clearly visible through the white lycra and his cockhead was peaking out of the leg opening.
Sam was toying with his penis as he suddenly asked me, "Are you straight or gay, boy?"
I began stammering, "B-before I was enslaved I never even thought about sex with a guy. I mean, I only ever looked at girls and, um...." My voice petered out and I saw a wry look on Sam's face.
"You're talking in the past tense, boy!" Sam chuckled. "I could tell you about all the women I fucked before enslavement. But that wouldn't tell you nothin' about how things are now. How do you feel now, boy? Deep inside?"
"Confused," I said softly. Then I looked at the outline of his hard cock in his slave shorts and I licked my lips. I looked up at his face.
Sam stood up and peeled down the slave shorts so that his stiff penis sprang up in front of him. I sat up in the bathtub and immediately extended my tongue, licking around the head of the huge black tool and then tonguing up and down the length of it. I moved my face down so I could suck on each of Sam's balls. They were so large I couldn't fit them in my mouth.
"Enough of the preliminaries, boy. Time for the main course." With that Sam slid the full length of his black dick down my throat. I gagged a little. He pulled back. But I reached around for his powerful butt cheeks and pulled him back into me. I knew how to suppress my gag reflex.
I sucked like a starving man. My hands reached up and touched Sam's pecs as my mouth kept on pistoning up and down. I became aware of some movement by the door. There was Master Steve in just a pair of white boxer shorts.
Sam called over his shoulder, "Damn good cocksucking from a straight boy." Then he grabbed my ears and started to fuck my face like it was a pussy. He was rough but I didn't mind. I was so sexually aroused by everything. I felt his cock get thicker and even stiffer and then felt a flood of cream down my throat. I swallowed as fast as I could and still there was spunk dripping from my lips.
When Sam pulled out of my mouth I gasped for air, but almost immediately Master Steve was in front of me, his huge cock sticking out of the fly of his olive green boxer shorts. I slid my lips down the full length so that my nose was crushed in his thick patch of pubic hair. Pubic hair! It was only then that I realized Sam's crotch had been shaved bare.
I reached my hands around to Master Steve's powerful butt cheeks and pulled him into me. He began to ride my mouth with one hand on the back of my head. When my fingertips moved into the crack of my master's ass, he slapped my hand away and said "Only one man gets to touch me there." I heard Sam chuckle in the background.
From that point on I would regularly service Sam and Master Steve. Most of the time they would wrestle or have some sort of competition to see who would get to fuck the other that night. Both of them loved to fuck. Both of them claimed they hated to get dicked up the ass, but I could tell by their body language that wasn't true.
Sometimes I would alternate between licking out Sam's asshole and sucking on Master Steve's cock. Other times it would be reversed. I didn't mind either way.
My conversations with Dr. Red grew even more intense now that I was staying at his house. One night I asked him what he knew about human sexuality. In addition to three other post-graduate degrees, he had a master's degree in psychology.
"Before I was enslaved," I began slowly. "I only ever thought about sex with girls. The idea of sex with guys repulsed me. I mean, I never had any interest in looking at guys in the locker room. When I... umm, when I masturbated, I only ever thought of girls, not guys.
"And when I first became a slave, I hated doing the things my first master made me do. I think I hated tongue kissing with him even worse than I hated getting fucked."
"That makes sense to me, Wally," Dr. Red said as he moved his strong hands over my back. He was kneeling beside me in just his boxer shorts. "Being the recipient of anal intercourse, you could maintain a sense that you were being invaded, you were being forced. Whereas kissing is such an intimate and tender act, one that requires your full participation."
"B-but now, sir," I swallowed hard knowing I could reach out and play with his big cock in his boxers, though I didn't dare. "Now I think about men. I think about wanting to do those things my first master made me do... but the idea of doing those things now with someone special...."
He smacked me on the butt and pulled the blanket around himself. Turning off the light he said, "If you need to masturbate, Wally, I understand it's a natural thing. You're already lying on a towel. Just be sure to stay on your stomach so you don't mess up the ointment on your back."
The tension was thick in the room. He suddenly turned to me. Was he going to kiss me? He planted a light kiss on my forehead and whispered, "Sleep well, son." I stayed lying in the silence for hours just replaying those final words in my head. He had called me son.
As casual as Master Steve was with me, he was still a master. For all his gruffness, it was Sam who was more approachable. The following weekend, as I soaked in the tub I started asking Sam about Master Red. He went on and on about what a good man the doctor was.
"Sam, is Master Red totally heterosexual?"
The big black man laughed. "Totally what? No way, boy! What makes you ask a thing like that?" Then Sam paused and nodded his head. "Oh, I understand. You're asking is he totally straight because he hasn't tried anything with you?
I started to climb out of the tub and Sam whistled. "I can see why you figure that way, boy. Anybody who'd turn down a body like yours would have to be the straightest man in the world." Then he laughed.
Looking at myself in the full-length mirror I saw that Sam was right. I hadn't realized how drastic the change had been. My body had filled out and my face looked as it had when I was a high school senior. I was no longer pasty white and emaciated. The marks on my back were visible, but only as faint lines. Dr. Red's treatments and Master Steve's exercise regimen had worked wonders. I grinned, not only for the new me I saw in the mirror, but also because this meant success for Dr. Red.
At that point I usually slept on a bedroll in the master bedroom. I was already stripped to white slave briefs when I heard Sam and Master Steve raise their voices. "You know I don't like to fuck boys. I only like to fuck men!" Master Steve shouted.
"Feel how tight Doc got his hole," Sam replied, ordering me to roll onto my belly and pull down the back of my briefs. The two big men kept talking about me as if I weren't there. They also kept drinking wine, opening two new bottles as I lay on the floor hearing about their sexual exploits when they were both slaves.
"Hey," Sam's face brightened. "Remember that kid that was Gil's godson? Gil had been lifelong friends with the boy's dad and when the kid was enslaved he bought the boy as a favor."
"Fuck yeah," Master Steve grinned in reply. "So short and slim for his age. No fucking use around a construction company. Only place he'd pay off big time would be a boy brothel. But that kid was totally straight."
They nodded together quietly and then turned to me as if filling me in on the rest of the story. "Gil had watched this boy grow up," Sam explained. "He just couldn't bring himself to take a new master's rights with the new slave and fuck him up the ass. So he locked the three of us into a slave cabin."
"Damn," Master Steve reminisced. "Gil was so twisted. He kept both of us cock caged for a week before that night. He never let on why and you and me were furious."
"And so fuckin' horny," Sam laughed. Then turning back to me he said, "Gil figured after a night like that with the two of us, that boy would be ready for anything."
"Even the nastiest boy brothel," Master Steve shook his head.
Nodding to the big white man, Sam snickered, "Doesn't this boy remind you of that kid, Gil's godson?"
There was a huge grin across Master Steve's face as he said, "Nah, Wally is a helluvalot cuter than that boy was."
Ten minutes later the two big men were both dressed in slave shorts. I was in white briefs and they were leading me from the back door of the house to the barracks behind. They pushed me into a small room and closed the door. There was only a narrow cot in the room. I was confused.
Master Steve grabbed me from behind. I felt his hard cock against my butt, his hairy chest on my back, and his breath on my neck. He rasped into my ear, "Sometimes it can be sexy to go back and remember how things were, boy. Don't call me Master for now, kid. Just call me Steve. We're playing a game where we pretend all three of us are slaves."
"Y-yes, sir," I whispered.
Sam was rubbing my nipples as Steve continued whispering in my ear, "I want you to go back, boy. Go back to that first day you were enslaved, kid. Straight boy, still in high school, never been with guys. Remember how you felt on that first day. You were still thinking like a free boy, a totally hetero free boy. Now imagine that's you right now. Right here!"
"How would that free boy be feeling right now, Wally? How would he react? What would he say?" Sam now pulled and twisted on each of my nipples.
"Stop that, man!" I shouted, looking right at Sam. "Look, I'm not queer. You have no right to put your hands on me this way." I had done what they asked. I was channeling the free straight boy I had been two-and-a-half years earlier.
Steve's hand snaked down into the back of my white briefs. I tried to clench my ass cheeks together but he shoved a finger between them, searching for my hole.
"Fuck you, man," I shouted, slipping from hi grip. "If you so much as touch me back there, I'll... I'll..."
Both of the big men laughed. They each outweighed me by a hundred pounds. I was pushed back on the bed and Steve forced a kiss on my lips. I poked him in the eye, turned my head and spit. He slapped me so hard across the face I felt a tingling. Yes, we were just play acting this scene, but it truly hurt. Our eyes met and I was trying to read what to do next. He softly said, "That's just a little taste for you, boy. Now relax your lips and I'm gonna teach you how to get kissed by a real man."
His lips met mine and his tongue toyed with my lips. I relented and opened my mouth for his tongue to connect with mine. "Nice soft mouth," Steve said in a way that was sensual and also sinister. He poked two fingers in my mouth and pushed them all the way in. "Damn, this mouth was made to suck cock."
"No-o-o-o-o-o!" I was begging for mercy, and deep in my guts I really meant it.
"Steve," Sam said with apprehension. "Are you sure about putting your dick into the new boy's mouth?"
Steve grinned down at me and grabbed my balls, twisting them until I cried out. "He looks like a smart kid. He knows what'll happen if I feel his teeth on my cock."
I gagged on his cock, so he had me masturbate him into my mouth while I suckled on the head. How strange. Even though I had been sucking both of these big cocks for weeks, I somehow reverted to the innocent straight boy I once was.
At the same time Sam was masturbating me. I knew what they were planning. Once Sam had a palm full of my own cum, he raised my legs and worked the cream into my asshole. Then he slopped my spunk onto his very stiff penis and pressed the fat head of it against my hole.
Damn, it had been well over a year-and-a-half since I'd been fucked up the ass. Judge Snow's dildoes never had the same effect as a real man's cock. And it was only those few times back at the Winston estate with the pony slaves that I'd had cocks as big as these inside me. As Sam forced his way all the way in, Steve flipped over and landed with his ass crack right on my face
Sam was starting to fuck my butt. One of them was holding my legs up in the air. Steve held my nose so I had to open my mouth. Soon I was sucking his ass.
Everything intensified. Sam was fucking me faster and harder. Steve was bouncing so much on my face I thought he would break my nose. Just when Sam thrust in deepest of all, I felt my cock jerk and I felt cum shooting out of it. I had shot my load without even touching my cock.
My body felt worn out as they lifted me up and tied my hands to a beam above my head. Steve fucked me from behind as Sam played with my body.
When they cut me down I fell to the floor and just started sobbing. There had been times when I wept, when tears had streamed down my face. But this was different. I was huddled in a fetal position, honestly going "boo-hoo," blubbering loudly, with snot spilling out of my nose.
Master Steve scooped me in his strong arms, holding me in that same curled up position. He held me tight to his chest and planted tender kisses on my face and body. Soon I felt the warmth of two manly chests on either side of me. I smelled the sweat of the two powerful men who had just used my body. Now they were cooing softly at me, "It's OK, Wally. It's OK, baby boy."
I wanted to say that it wasn't OK. Even if what we had done was just play acting, I was a slave and could be used by any sort of man in any way he chose. But I couldn't get any words to come out coherently, just my loud sobs.
The two of them carried me back to the house, nestled between them. They laid me in the center of their big bed and both of them held me as I fell asleep. I slept soundly and peacefully with the big men so close against me. The next morning I awoke and I felt great. It was as if all that crying had released something locked deep inside me.
On Monday I returned to Dr. Red with a new resolve. As usual I got into his bed, he spread cream on my back, then he rolled over wrapped in his blanket. But he slept fitfully. I stayed awake, unable to sleep, just watching him, thinking what a wonderful and loving man he was.
He rolled onto his back, the blanket pulled most of the way off his body. One leg was sticking out of the blanket and I saw his hard cock sticking out of that leg of his boxer shorts. I licked my lips and knew what I had to do.
I slid down the bed and my tongue began caressing this fat penis. Then I gulped it into my mouth. I pushed up the leg of his boxers so I could get the full length in my throat. I sucked greedily. My head was moving up and down fast. I heard the man cry out. I felt his hands on my head and the next moment he was gasping, then shouting. "Oh, fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!" I swallowed as fast as I could. Dr. Red's shouts died down to a soft moan.
When he caught his breath he got up on one elbow and was looking intently at me. I was smiling up at him, happy that I had given him pleasure. But the look on his face made me uneasy.
Dr. Red sat up all the way, raised his hand and slapped my face so hard I fell off the bed. "You goddamn little slut whore!" he screamed. "Sleep on the floor where pussyboy slaves like you belong!"
He turned his back to me. For a long time I couldn't move from the spot I'd fallen. I didn't dare speak even though I could tell from his breathing that Dr. Red was still awake. In my head I wanted to scream out, "Strap me! Paddle me! Whip me!" Anything would be better than the pain I felt deep in my heart.