Master Paulus

Master Paulus - Part 9 The Devil Has Green Eyes

By: Christian Xavier Gartrip

(christianxgartrip@gmail.com)

"Now git back inside. We got some decisions to make."

These were the words of Rev, simple, but pregnant with unlimited possibilities. And what was I to make of the word 'we'? I knew what he meant, but I was still bound to the idea that this was, ultimately, my decision to make, not 'ours.' I was willing to entertain the loss of freedom, but if so, I needed to be the one to give it up. After all, it was my freedom that was on the line. Rev could sell me, but not until I made the choice to step in front of the auctioneer.

"Crawl into the kitchen and sit on the floor. I'll be back in a minute. We need to discuss your future."

This was the first time I'd seen any part of Rev's house other than the chamber and the back lawn. I'd known that it was isolated and on Lake Norman. I also recognized that Rev had purchased an older property that he'd been expanding. "The chamber" was really nothing more than an unfinished edition that Rev was using to keep his slaves from escaping. He'd even boarded up the windows.

I was, however, surprised to see how modern Rev's kitchen was. It looked as if it had just been renovated: hardwood floors, stainless steel appliances, granite counters, walnut paneling, and black painted cabinetry and furniture. It looked like something one might see in a gentleman's NY high-rise, not a black Master's rural lake house. I was impressed.

I sat in the middle of the floor. My ass was still moist from having just been cleaned and then fucked, and my hair was dripping as well. I didn't want to damage anything, so I did my best to stay still. I assume that Rev had gone to the bathroom to wipe the remains of my ass off of his cock. He returned about ten minutes later.

Rev entered in yet another outfit I'd not seen before. He was wearing a pair of black leather chaps with a line of large metal rivets running up the outer seam of each leg. These chaps were not held up with a belt, but with a pair of thin black leather suspenders stretched tightly over his shoulders and crisscrossing over both sides of his naked torso. Aside from his now trademark boots, the only other piece of clothing Rev wore was a black leather jockstrap, made distinctive by a zipper on its pouch. Rev's ass, gut, and chest were fully exposed, as they should be. He had adorned his right bicep with a black and silver strap and his left wrist with a four-inch wide leather cuff, also studded.

He looked amazingly masculine and sexual for a man of 60. I was disappointed to see that he'd covered his cock with the leather pouch. However, Rev is a man whose cock is as long hard as it is soft. It thickens, but it doesn't lengthen, nor does it need to. So the bulge coming from his crotch was still mouth-wateringly healthy. He'd just fucked me on the back lawn not 15 minutes earlier, and just seeing him standing over me had me ready to bend over a second time.

He picked up a set of cuffs from the counter and secured my wrists behind me. Rev then pulled a heavy chair from the table, sat in it with his legs spread wide, lit a cigarette and looked at the naked man sitting on his new floor.

"Looks like I have a buyer. He's gonna be here later this evening. He's flying down, renting a van, and will drive you back tomorrow morning. You'll leave from here. Once I get my money, I'll see to it that your stuff is taken care of. Your still gonna have to let that college know you ain't coming back. The buyer I lined up knows that part too, but he wants it all taken care of before he leaves with you. I guess he don't want no cops snoopin' around because some do-gooder reported you missin'. So you figure out who you're gonna be able to get a hold of on a Sunday. You'll call from here. Then we can all get on with things. I'm headin' out for Nassau for some rest Monday mornin'. It'll be good to have all this done before hand."

"No." These terms were not acceptable. I had not agreed, and I needed him to know that. Unfortunately, Rev didn't respond. It was as if I'd never opened my mouth.

Rev stood up and walked out to the hallway that leads to the chamber. A second or two later he walked back in with a ball gag.

"I said, no. You can't just se...."

Rev forced the rubber ball into my mouth and wrapped the strap around my head and fastened it as tightly as he could. I tried to move my head and spit out the gag just to be able to finish my sentence, but he was too quick. As soon as he'd finished with the buckle he let me know that he didn't appreciate my lip by giving the inside of my thighs five or six rough slaps with his palm. He grabbed my chin and aimed my face at his.

"Don't fuck with me. I'm doing you a favor. And don't think I won't hand you over to him with a mess of brand new bloody scabs on your ass. You got that, boy? Huh?"

I nodded.

"Now git up." Rev locked his hand under my naked armpit and lifted me off of his floor.

I walked to the chamber like a condemned child. At this point (total honesty here) I was starting to cry. We needed to discuss this, but the decision had already been made. I'd been sold, my property all but gone, and Rev had even gagged me just to keep me from arguing with him about it. I wasn't a slave, I was a very bad 10 year old being put up for adoption because I hadn't lived up to parental expectations, and it wasn't fair.

Rev tossed me into my cell. I collapsed on the mattress, pissed myself because I didn't care anymore, and fell asleep on a bed soaked in my own urine. Psychologically speaking, that moment may have been my lowest point ever. Rev didn't even remove my gag or my cuffs. I had no blanket to place against my skin. He had even turned off the one source of light, a single bulb that hung above my head. It was dark, and I felt as if I would die.

I was awakened with a kick to my foot by Rev, still dressed as he'd been earlier, but holding my regular plate of food. I was hungry, and for a moment I'd forgotten about the earlier events and could think only of dinner. Of course, as soon as I realized that I was still gagged, everything became clear again. I also noticed that Rev was carrying a thin piece of bamboo. I understood. I would eat and say nothing. If I deviated at all from his plan, I'd be whipped with the stalk, and marked severely.

I indicated that I was on board. Rev let me eat, gagged me again, and then moved me to the center of the chamber. He suspended my hands above my head then left the room, turning out the lights as he closed the chamber door behind him. I still had no idea what time it was.

At some point later, an hour or maybe two, I heard voices, mostly laughter, on the other side of door. There was a pause, and then the door opened. I saw two figures in the doorway. One of them, Rev, never entered the chamber. He reached in and flipped on one of the room's three rows of overhead lights and then disappeared. And there he was: a stranger, just standing in the dim light of the doorway at the far end of the chamber.

Coming towards me, like the Angel of Death, was a dark V-shaped figure. The room was silent except for the steady clicking of his shoes on the concrete floor. He'd closed the door behind him, so we were alone. He stopped about three feet from me and stared into my eyes.

"Chris. I'm Cole... You belong to me now. Before we move on outta here, we're going to spend some time getting to know each other. Is that good for you, boy? " He spoke very methodically and with a low but firm voice. He was calm, controlled, comfortable, but also serious and direct.

Cole stood in front of me in a well-tailored navy suit patterned with a light blue windowpane plaid. His shirt was white, starched, and free of wrinkles. Around his thick neck hung a dark paisley tie, tightly knotted. His shoes were black leather brogues and were so brightly polished that the light from the ceiling reflected off of their tips and into my eyes.

Cole's head was large and round, shaved clean. The only hair I saw was his heavy white goatee. It hung about three inches below his chin. The hairs were combed and twisted into a sharp point that fell just above the knot of his tie. His eyes were not black or brown, but pale emerald green, which was odd for a black man, but very mesmerizing when viewed. His eyes were wide, but narrow and piercing as he looked down at me. He had a heavy nose and a large mouth and a big friendly smile.

Cole was a dark-skinned black man, but not as dark as Rev or Master Paulus. He had a bit of cream in coffee, not a lot, but some. His skin was smooth and free of blemishes. The only wrinkles I could see were around his unusual eyes.

As Cole stood in front of me examining his latest purchase, I tried to come to terms with his size. I had to look up to see his face, meaning that he was at least 6-foot and a couple of inches. His shoulders were broad, his hips narrow, but he sported a heavy gut that he kept covered with his double-breasted jacket. He appeared to be a man who was at one time slim and athletic, but who had gained a few pounds in his face and stomach as he'd aged. He was powerful. I could feel a bit of blood flowing into my cock and it embarrassed me.

Cole's fingers found my partially inflated organ and gently stroked its tip. I looked down and watched his two longest fingers rub across the piss slit and then slowly down the top of the shaft to my rubber cock ring. From there he cupped my ball sac into his palm, folded his fingers around it and slowly squeezed. I felt a shudder of pain through my groin, but my cock continued to grow.

My new Master released my testicles and unzipped his trousers. Slowly, as he watched my face, I heard the zipper lower. He bent his knees slightly and reached in to retrieve his meat. I looked down to see what would soon be pushed into my mouth and forced into my ass.

"NO!" Cole gripped my chin and pulled my face up and close to his. "You don't look at your Master's cock until I say so. Do you understand me, boy?"

This scared me, but I nodded that I understood.

As I stared into my new Master's cocoa colored face and mysterious green eyes, I felt his warm piss suddenly splashing against my firm, hard cock. The tangy odor drifted upward into my nose. Instinctively, I breathed in. Cole closed his eyes, relaxed, and exhaled as if he'd been holding a full bladder for some time. As he emptied himself, he moved his cock back and forth, slowly, above the base of my erection to make certain that every inch was fully covered. His piss dripped down my legs, the inside of my thighs, and the length of my dick.

When he finished pissing on me, he tucked away his cock and zipped his trousers, all with one hand. His right hand was still gripped firmly on my chin to keep it focused on his powerful expression.

"In my house, a slave doesn't look at the Master's cock unless it's being put into his mouth. When you look at me, you look at me... not my big old dick. You'd do well to learn that lesson right up front. I don't want to waste a lot of time whipping your nasty ass over something like that. I've got better things to do with my time. You got that, boy? Do you understand what I'm saying to you? Do you?"

Again, I nodded, never letting my eyes drift away from his.

"Good."

Master Cole took off his jacket and carefully folded it as if it were the ancient garment of a king. A naturally pretentious old fuck, I thought. He looked around the room and spotted a few metal folding chairs in another a corner. He walked over, unfolded a chair and draped his jacket over the back. He picked up another chair and walked to where I was standing, unfolding it as he approached. He sat in the chair in front of me and looked up.

"I had a boy for three years, but I had to turn him in. I had paid for a five year run, but after three I let him go. I picked him from a dealer in Houston. He had a little 'spic in him, but that made him a hot piece, so that was okay with me. His Momma got knocked up in Mexico one weekend. No decent man wanted a pregnant whore, so she stayed with her daddy and they raised him in Del Rio. The boy's Momma crossed the street one day and took a hit from a car. It killed her. The boy was 10 at the time and his old bigot grandpappy had to raise him. When the boy was about 14 his pappy came home and caught the kid getting his ass fucked by some neighborhood pervert. Turns out the kid invited the man in and offered himself up to be fucked. That old man grabbed his grandson's neck and whipped his ass good then turned him out the next day and had the pervert run out of town. I finally got a hold of him when he was 23. That's the story he told me, so I don't know if it's true. He was all right for the most part...nice ass, good for fucking, and took the belt okay when I had to teach him things. But I had a hard time keeping him straight and focused. Always roaming off and getting in trouble, you know? At one point I had to lock him in a cage for almost two weeks just to keep him from wandering off. That cost me a lot because I had to pay a whore to be my bitch for a while. It wasn't worth it. So I took the loss and turned him in. They beat him good, too. Spent a week in bed, then they sold his ass to some Liberian. That country's pretty fucked up, so for all I know, both he and his Master are dead. Someone's always putting a bullet in your head if you're a politician in Liberia. If you're a faggot too, they slice off the goodies and stuff them in your mouth before they shoot you. That's probably what's going to happen to them, assuming it hasn't already. I don't worry about that, though. That's his problem."

"I need a boy with firm skin and the ability to recognize that he must do exactly as I say. I'm not a nice man. I'm rich, I look good, and I have power, but I'm not nice, and I'm not patient. I'm going to test you every hour of every day. You'd better be ready for that. I plan on making you hate the very sight of me, and there won't be anything you can do about it."

"I have a special place for you to sleep in and wait for me in. It's not much, but it's better than you probably deserve. You'll have nothing to call your own, and your only job is to please me. And I'm not easy to please. Nod your head if you get me, boy. I'm not just talking to hear my own voice."

Through my gag, I nodded.

"I like a good schedule. I have a business to run, and I run it well, which is why I'm able to buy boys and whatever else I want. I run my home like my business. I have a specific schedule and I keep to it, and so will you. You mess it up or mess me up, then you'll pay for it, and you'll regret it."

"I'm not interested in your needs. You'll be kept clean, fed, and housed. That's it. My boys don't wear clothes. Ever. I like to see what I own, bruises and all, and I don't mind showing it off to anybody who's lucky enough to receive an invitation to my home. You will serve primarily as my boy, but you will also serve anyone I decide you'll serve. I hear you're good at that part. I hear you're quite the whore. That's good. You'll need to be."

"Your body is too defined for my taste. I don't like muscle on a boy, so no more exercising. You'll be on a strict vegetarian diet to keep you thin. The only meat you'll eat is cock. Sweets are a reward for exceptionally good behavior. I've never had to give a boy sweets. I'll doubt I'll be giving you any either. You still following me, boy?"

I nodded... thinking about a life without sit-ups, chocolate cake, or roast beef.

"You'll not get anymore haircuts. I like long hair on my main boy. I like to have something to hold onto when I ride his ass. But I'll have my man Joe shave everything else: cock, face, pits, legs. Hair on a slave isn't tolerated, and I won't have it in my house."

Cole stood up and removed his silk tie. He slowly walked to the chair that held his coat and draped it on top. As he walked around the room, he unbuttoned his collar and rolled up his sleeves. He paused to finger the various belts and paddles laid out on a table for Rev to use. I expected him to choose one, but instead he unbuckled his own belt and removed it from his pants. "Swoooosh."

He came up from behind and pressed against me. As he gripped the alligator skin belt in his right hand he reached around and stroked my cock, letting the grain of the leather brush against my shaft. He rubbed his left palm over the left ass cheek and spoke softly in my ear.

"Some men lift weights to relieve stress. Some men meditate. Some men read or plant flowers. Do you know what I do, Christian? I'll tell you. I whip. When I get home from the office, after a really stressful day, I pour a drink, slip into a piece of my favorite leather, select an implement, and then I reach for my boy. I spend the whole day thinking about his pale white ass. I think about how smooth it is. I think about where I'd like to hang it: from the ceiling, draped over a table, nailed to a wall, tied to a tree. It changes every day. That's what makes it special."

Cole wrapped the leather belt around my cock and under my sac and then started to squeeze. He lowered his voice another register to a near whisper.

"Nothing is more calming than swinging a belt in the air and then watching it redden a boy's little white bottom. And you, Christian, have a lovely pale snowy bottom. I look forward to bruising it for you. I want to see it glow when the belt that I have wrapped around your little cock finds its way onto your butt. I crave it... I do."

"Do you scream, Christian? Hmmm? Are you a screamer? I do hope so, Christian. I so want to hear you beg for me to stop. I can't wait for that. Hearing a boy beg me to stop is music, Christian. Sweet, calming music. It's the most important part."

"But I don't stop, Christian. It's not in me to stop. I can't. I have to will myself to stop. When I have this belt in my hand, when I swing it and see it crash hard against a boy's bottom, I just have to do it again... and again. Christian, I'm a flawed man. Deeply, deeply, flawed, Christian. But fortunately I have you now, Christian. I'll teach you to understand that your Master has no choice but to do what he does. You'll help me. And you'll learn to take it, Christian. You'll have to, because, I'll not give you a choice."

Cole had tightened the belt around my cock to the point of strangulation. His left hand had found the head of my cock, and his thumb was gently circling it and rubbing the precum that was dripping onto his finger into my flesh. He was so very gentle. So soft-spoken, so magnificently vile.

The Master removed his hand from my cock and unfastened the buckle that had held the ball gag in my mouth. It fell to the floor and bounced to the side. I knew it was about to begin.

"WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!" Cole's belt connected with my ass like a thousand hornets stinging my flesh. It was a shock, and I screamed out in a rage of panic.

"WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!"...and again... "WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!" "WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!"...and again... "WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!"

Cole was indeed a methodical man. Each stroke was perfectly timed and perfectly executed. He was not a man who held back. He first blow was as intense as his last. He was not proving to be a thigh-man. Like Rev, he was an ass-man. And he liked his asses bright red... with bruises.

"WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!"...and again... "WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!" "WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!"...and again... "WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!"

I screamed out after every blow, not because he wanted me to, not to please him, but because I feared him, and because I felt the anger and the rage each and every time. It burned like a fire, as if he were branding me with his own mark. I was his and no one else's.

"WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!"...and again... "WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!"

"WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!"...and again... "WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!"

"WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!"...and again... "WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!"

"WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!"...and again... "WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!"

"Pleeease stop.... Pleeeaaase, NO! STOP! OwahOwahOWAH! AAGGGHHHH!"

But Cole, Master Cole, would not stop. The whippings kept coming, the flesh kept burning, and I kept screaming and begging and demanding and pleading and crying for it to stop. I just wanted it all to go away!

I looked down and my legs were flying around my hips. I was trying to get away from this brutal man and his belt. Cole never missed. He adjusted, moved, and shifted from side to side. He connected every time, like a boxer with a whip. He was relentless.

"AAAAAAGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!"

Master Cole dropped his belt and rushed up behind me and wrapped his arms around my torso. As my legs danced in the air, his hand found my bottom and thigh and began to slap it quickly, over and over again. He was laughing to himself, laughing at me.

My legs dropped to the concrete. Cole took my cock in his hand and squeezed it. He held on as if it were a knob or a handle. He pressed his shoulder against my side and held me in place and continued to wale away on my ass. First one cheek, then another. The flesh was burning. It felt as if it was about to peel away. My whole body was shaking and begging for it to stop. It didn't stop.

As hard as this was for me, it seemed oddly simple for him. I caught several glances of his face. He was smiling. He'd not even broken a sweat.

And then he stopped suddenly, released me, and backed away. I was soaking wet and physically exhausted. My shoulders were so cramped that I thought I might need a doctor. I could feel nothing below my waist. If my legs were moving, I didn't know it.

And then he was on me again. I couldn't feel the belt, but I heard it, and I heard every stroke as they crashed against my ass. I tipped back my head and stared at the light over my head. The noise began to fade, and the lights began to blur.

"Christian." I heard a whisper. It was Cole, Master Cole. He face was against mine. I could see a large black torso. He had removed his shirt and was holding onto my cock. My hands were hanging in front of me, but were still cuffed. I could feel his heavy gut on my arms and the fabric of his trousers on my fingertips. I collapsed into his arms and he walked backward, letting me fall to the floor.

My knees hit a mattress. I tried to catch myself with my arms, but I was too weak. I fell forward, trapping my cuffed hands between the mattress on the floor and my own cock, which was, surprisingly, fully erect. I could hear Cole laughing and talking to himself... or was he talking to me? I couldn't tell. All I knew was that I felt as if someone had soaked my flesh in gasoline and tossed a match onto me.

The Master was standing next to my head. I could see his feet. He'd removed his shoes and socks and now he was stepping out of trousers and a pair of bright blue boxer shorts. Instinctively, I wanted to follow his leg up to his crotch to see his cock, but I knew better. I'd been warned. So I closed my eyes.

Cole dropped to his knees between my legs and put his hands on my aching ass. He rubbed the bright red flesh and whistled as what he'd done. I think he thought of it as a form of artistic expression, and I was his canvas. I felt him separate my cheeks and force a finger into my dry asshole and then twist it back and forth.

He poured a cool gooey liquid between my legs and began working it into my hole. First one finger, then two, then finally three fingers forced their way into my greased ass.

"I don't go to bed until I've fucked my boy's ass. You'll be fucked every night, Christian. This part you'll like from what I've heard. That doesn't concern me, but at least I won't have to waste a lot of energy fighting you."

After he'd stretched out my asshole, he gripped my hips and lifted me onto my knees. A few seconds passed and then I felt the fat head of cock force its way past my rim. It hurt like hell, and he laughed to himself when he heard me wince, but he stopped there and paused.

"This is going to hurt the first few times. I'm not interested in lovemaking. I prefer hot fucking. Do you know what that is, my boy? Hot fucking?" I shook my head. "It's what you'll be getting a lot of and will need to get used to. I'm an ass ripper. It's what I like. It's what I do. So hold on and pull in your tongue."

"AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGHHHHHH!!!" Cole dropped his entire frame onto my back and slammed his groin into my ass. He thick steel cock shot like a rocket into my gut, splitting my chute and tearing open my rim. It went deep, at least 9 inches, and he buried every goddamn millimeter of it inside of me in less than a second. My ass rarely bleeds, but if it was ever going to, this was the time.

Cole twisted his hips as he gripped hard onto mine, laughed at my outbursts and protests, and then ripped the entire length from my ass as quickly as he'd powered it in. A few seconds later he was inside again, grinding the length of his meat as far as it would go and showing me no mercy. He pulled it from me a second time, and then forced it back in again. And so this was the pattern: to drive in, grind, then out, and then in again... over and over... no mercy... no relief... no pleasure.

Cole repeated the torturous fucking for almost ten minutes (it seemed), and until I could feel nothing but numbness. By this point I had launched into a full-on screamfest, complete with tears and an inability to catch my breath for long periods of time. This was rape.

When Cole grew bored and was ready to cum, he turned on some sort of internal engine, and his hips began pumping furiously against the cheeks of my ass. It was rough, brutal, and like something out of a factory. The sounds of his flesh pounding against mine echoed through the room, which made the effect seem like a private horror show. When he finally came, it was almost anti-climactic. He buried his cock one last time, his body shivered, he moaned slightly, and then fell forward onto my back. A few seconds later, I felt sweat dripping onto by shoulders from his face and neck, and semen dripping down the back of my sac as he pulled his dick from my raw cunt.

Cole stood up and stretched as he walked to the head of the mattress and shoved his toes in my mouth. "Suck on those, freak."

As I sucked on his toes like a baby on its mother's tit, I began to smell the shitty backwash that was dripping from his cock and out of my ass. I'd had a decent enema earlier from Rev, but the power fucking had knocked loose the contents of my intestines and without the muscle tone to hold my sphincter shut, it began to seep out and onto the mattress. I felt ashamed, helpless, and foul.

Cole was aware of my condition, but seemed unaffected. "Yeah, something you'll get used to, I suspect... happens a lot. You'll live."

Cole pulled his foot from my mouth and laughed as my tears began to pour down my face again and as the watery shit leaked out of my ass. Cole knelt down in front of me and for the first time I saw his cock. It was hanging just inches from my nose and was still engorged with blood. It was every bit as long and as thick as I had suspected. It was curved and veiny, and covered in dark blotches. It was very large, but hardly beautiful. He had a thick bush of white hair growing above it, and his sac, which was long and weighted with two huge nuts, was covered in a heavy coat of white fur.

Cole leaned over my aching body and forced me onto my back. My cock was as erect as a sixteen-year-old boy's at his first peep show, and it was oddly embarrassing for me. I closed my moist eyes out of shame.

"Lift your legs up and spread 'em.... Good. Now let's give you're new Daddy a show. Grab that little cock of yours and stroke it nice and slow. You can cum whenever you're ready."

This was one of the few times any Master had ever offered me a chance to pleasure myself. I'd certainly been fucked by men whose methods had made me cum, but no one, especially not Paulus, had ever demanded it from me like this.

With my cuffed hands, I gripped my dick and stroked it as if I were alone in my own bed. I closed my eyes and relaxed as best I could and tried to ignore the pain and the smells.

"Boy, look at me, and don't ever close those eyes again, you hear? Now look at my face while you play with that thing. You only get the chance because I'm allowing it, so you need to look into the eyes of the man who owns that cock. Me."

Through the pain and the humiliation I slowly whacked my cock, squirming like an inmate in an asylum. I arched my back and shot a thick spray of spunk onto my chest and nipples. So powerful was my orgasm that my bowels opened up and a final mix of water, shit, blood, lube, and cum gushed from between my legs and onto the mattress. I collapsed completely, nearly dead and covered in sweat. I could hardly breathe, and my flesh ached as if it had been bathed in acid.

Cole dropped to one knee again and scooped up my cum with his hand. He rubbed it into his cock and motioned for me to open my mouth. As I did, he pushed his long dick past my lips and onto my tongue, feeding my own semen and the remains of my ass. As I licked him clean he released his urine, which shot hard against my throat and poured into my stomach. I thought I would gag, but I didn't. I drank every drop, as if it were pure water from a cool spring. Cole rubbed the top of my head and then cradled it so that I didn't choke on his piss.

"Damn, boy... Rev was right. You're the one for me. No doubt about it. Shit-stained and looking nasty, but damn kid, you certainly are one hot funky piece of tail. I'm gonna enjoy my time with you... every raunchy second of it."

Cole pulled his now cleaned cock from his new urinal and walked over to the door of the chamber.

"Hey Rev! I gotta an old mattress here that's gonna need tossin'. What you want to do with it?"

I couldn't hear Rev's response, but moments later I was hauling the stained bed out of the room and onto the back lawn. Standing naked in the sunlight, and still covered in all sorts of filth, I waited for my nude Master to give me instructions. Cole opened an old garage next to the house and directed my to drop the thing inside. To the best of me knowledge, it's still there... if you're at all curious.

I spent the next half hour uncuffed and bathing with a large bar of soap on the back lawn as my new Master stood by with a hose to rinse me. Cole is a stickler for cleanliness, so after an initial inspection, I repeated the process again, then gave myself an enema with the hose, and then I soaped my ass one last time before I "passed inspection."

Cole had me drip dry on the back deck then cuffed my hands behind me and escorted me back into the chamber. I was forced onto my knees and a thick dog collar was buckled around my neck and then secured with a small lock. Attached to the collar was a long silver chain, which Cole held in his hand and never released until we departed.

Rev dialed the number I gave him for my supervisor and placed the phone to my face so that I could speak to her. It wasn't easy, but I did what they told me to do and said goodbye forever to just about everything I knew, everything I owned, and everything I loved. I was no more. I was owned. I was a slave.

I made a similar phone call to my landlord and informed him that a moving company would be packing up my apartment. I told him I was relocating to help a terminally ill relative, and that I was unable to return to do anything in person. He told me I'd lose my deposit, which almost made me laugh considering what a measly 400 dollars meant in comparison to all of this.

And that was it. Rev gagged me with a fresh ball and then attached a rather complicated CBT device to my cock. It looked new, so I assumed it was some sort of going away gift. Lucky me.

While Cole dressed and I adjusted to the discomfort of the chastity codpiece, Rev placed a call to Paulus and told him to "hit the boy's unit" and "assess the place." Then he informed him that he'd be their later tonight with "the cash." Rev asked about Ben's whereabouts (a man I still hate and desperately crave at the same time). Apparently Ben was there and was going to help. For whatever reason, I didn't feel violated by any of this. Maybe I had wanted it all along; maybe none of my things really mattered to me; or maybe I was just exhausted and on the verge of a breakdown. Who knows, really? The thought of these men searching through my old apartment and tossing out my old clothes and selling off my furniture just didn't make me angry like I thought it would. It just didn't.

Cole took my leash and led me to the back lawn. He had arrived in a large black van without any seats in the back. He opened the rear doors and revealed a large dog cage, the kind one would use for a couple of great danes, which was decked out with a small thick mattress, a pillow, and a sheet. I climbed inside and stretched out on my stomach as Cole instructed. He climbed in after me and uncuffed my wrists but then reattached them to each side of the cage. He repeated the process with my ankles then placed the pillow under my head and the sheet over my bruised backside. He then covered the entire cage with a couple of large thin black sheets so that no one could see inside. I was spread-eagle, gagged, and going nowhere.

Cole locked the back door of the cage then shut the rear of the van. The two of them stood outside and spoke for a while. I could hear laughter and a lot of chatter, but nothing specific. We left at dusk, and I fell asleep almost immediately. When I awoke, we were at a truckstop and Cole had opened the front of cage and was unbuckling my gag. He gave me a baby bottle filled with water and had me drink the entire thing.

"You need to piss."

I nodded.

"Go ahead." So I did, and I spent the rest of trip stretched out across a wet mattress.

Cole never said a word in the van. He played a lot of music, but didn't sing. We finally arrived somewhere in the middle of the night. Cole jumped out of the van and yelled for Joe. At that point I knew we were home.

A few minutes later the Master Cole opened the van and the cage and unlocked my cuffs. He pulled me from the ankles and onto my knees on the driveway, and I looked up to see an old white man, at least 70, dressed in a white shirt, and black vest and trousers. He was wearing a striped tie and an apron. He looked like an English butler, but his posture betrayed him. He was slumped over and not looking very happy. When he opened his mouth to speak I was shocked at what I heard: a country hick from the backwoods of West Virginia. I knew that accent. I'd heard it before from my father's relatives and cousins. This man, this butler, was a rube.

"Dang, sir. Pardon me, but he ain't very pretty... not like that last boy. You shore 'bout this one?"

"I'm sure, Joe. He's perfect. And anyway, he's not for you. So drop it."

"Yes'sa."

"He'll be in my room for tonight. I'm not going in tomorrow, so we'll not need the usual Monday morning attention. I'll let you know when we need something. Get him upstairs and leave him at the foot of the bed. I'll be up soon. Don't leave him alone. Just wait at the door and keep an eye on him."

"Yes'sa. Come on boy. I ain't got awl night."

I turned and looked at the large house, a sprawling Victorian monstrosity with multiple gables, turrets and balconies eclectically arranged across the front of the house. The lot was wooded, and I saw no other houses nearby. We were out in the forest somewhere, and I had no idea what state I was even in.

We entered through the large oak doors and as soon as I set foot in the foyer, Joe pushed me onto my knees.

"Slaves ain't allowed to walk in here. Know yo'r place and show some respect."

Joe took my leash and led me up the massive staircase (uncarpeted) and down the hall (heavily carpeted) to the Master's chambers. His room was locked behind 2 ornately carved doors. Joe opened them and pulled me in behind him. He walked me to the foot of Master's bed and with a single finger, aimed my head at the thick oriental rug. Joe stood by the door and waited. I sensed a large room, nicely decorated, but didn't dare look around.

A few minutes later Master Cole appeared and Joe left, pulling the doors closed behind him. Master Cole unfastened my gag and kneeled in front of me. He opened a bottle of water and had me drink most of it. It was cool and felt good going down.

Master lifted me to my feet but told me to stare at his shoes. He turned me to face the large king-sized bed and bent me forward then forced my legs apart as if he were going to inspect my cunt. He walked to his closet and returned with a belt that very quickly found its way onto my exposed ass.

"WHHAAACK!"

"WHHAAACK!"

When I didn't yell out immediately, Master increased the speed and the intensity of the whippings, bringing the desired results.

"AAAAHHHHH! PLEEEAZE NOOO! GOD NO!"

"WHHAAACK!"

"WHHAAACK!"

I had no idea how many people were in the house, but if they had been sleeping, they weren't anymore.

"WHHAAACK!"

"WHHAAACK!"

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

The beating lasted for several minutes. Master was still dressed, but halfway through, he stopped to remove his tie and drink some water, then he returned and delivered another 10 lashings. I could feel the heat building in the flesh of my ass. The earlier whippings has left me red and bruised, and now I was getting a whole new set to deal with tomorrow.

Master dropped his belt and my body collapsed a bit from the beauty of hearing it hitting the floor. No more, I thought. He's finished. Master then reached between my legs and squeezed my nuts and pulled them toward the floor. I winced and groaned at this, which only made his groping more intense. My cock was filling up with blood and pressing madly against the metal cock restraints that Rev had forced onto me. I'd never experienced anything like it. It hurt like hell.

Master tossed my body onto the floor and had me face the coffered ceiling. He dropped his trousers, stepped out of them and promptly sat on my face. This was the first time I'd had the chance to sniff and taste Master's hole. I was anxious about it and immediately forced my tongue against the tangy the sphincter and pushed it inside.

"NO!" Master rose up and grabbed my cock and pulled hard on the device. "No one fucks my ass with anything, especially a slave, and not with his tongue. Your job is to lick it and clean it and pleasure it. Fuck it again and I'll cut your damn dick off. You hear me boy?"

I nodded and he sat back down on my tongue, which I used to clean away the sweat and grime of the day. When he was satisfied, he turned around and forced his cock into my mouth and fucked it with the same power he used to fuck my ass earlier.

This time it didn't take long for him to blow. He shot a full load onto my tongue, and I swallowed all of it. It was thick and very salty and carried a powerful smell that did to my head what poppers used to do when I was a young man dancing the night away at the clubs.

Master lifted up and removed the rest of his clothing while I savored his juices and tried to block out the pain of the beatings. When he was completed naked he called for Joe who appeared within seconds (the old fuck was listening at the door). Joe picked up Master's clothes and removed them from the room. I didn't see him again until the next day.

"You'll sleep there tonight, but don't get used to it. I have a special place for you and you'll see it soon enough." Master then tossed a small blanket on top of me, but no pillow. I was exhausted, so I curled up and drifted off seconds later.

I woke suddenly the following morning when Master flipped me over on the carpet and ripped the blanket from me. I wasn't really sure where I was, and so I instinctively tried to crawl away, but Master had my ankles. Once I calmed down, Master opened a jar of petroleum jelly (very greasy) and slathered a large chuck of it between the cheeks of my ass. He pushed his thumb into my cunt and moved it around, like a doctor doing a prostate exam. It felt very strange.

"Someone needs to take a shit, and it ain't me. Too bad, because Daddy needs some tail."

Master pushed more lube into my ass and then lifted my hips and placed me on my knees. He pushed my legs apart very quickly forced the entire length of his cock into my guts.

"GODDAMN... DAMN'T.... STOPPPP!"

"Yeah let me hear it bitch... scream out and let me hear it. Let me know it hurts. Let ol' Joe know you're new Daddy's ripping open your asshole. Come on BITCH... LET ME HEAR IT!" Master increased the speed he was using to rape me and his fat cock was clearly getting even thicker with every stroke.

"AAAAHHHHGGGGHHH!... STOP! OOWWW! STOP! NO!"

Unlike men like Rev and Paulus, Cole seemed completely unconcerned with how his technique affected me. They were rough, no doubt, but I always knew that they understood that there was a line there somewhere. They rarely crossed it, and when they did, it was usually out of anger. Cole was different. With Cole, there was no line, and he wasn't angry. This was normal stuff for him. How long could I take such brutal treatment before I would need to see a doctor? How long?

"Ah yeah. Damn, ain't nothing better that a boy's tight as hell asshole first thing in the morning... nothing better! You hurtin' boy? Tell me! TELL ME!"

I told him, all right. He ripped into me like an animal and the whole house knew it. I screamed as if I were being tortured. I was being tortured, and I wanted out! Where was Joe, I thought? How could he just stand around and listen to someone being raped like this. HOW!?

Master pulled out and smacked my raw ass with his palm several times then jammed his pole deep inside again. His hips were pummeling me, and my sphincter was on fire from the friction... and then it stopped.

He released his cum and shot it into my bowels then collapsed, as was his custom, on top of me. I thanked God that it was over.

"Come on." Master grabbed my collar and dragged me into his large marble bathroom.

"Don't get used to it... you'll have your own, but get up there on that seat and do your thing. I know you're loaded."

After all of the toilet training from Paulus, I was well versed with shitting on command, so I gently dropped onto the john and opened my guts. Damn, what a relief. It felt amazing, but in truth, it burned like hell. While I did my thing, so to speak, Master wiped his cock with a small towel and dropped it on the floor. He turned on his shower and stepped in.

"Don't move until I'm done. And don't flush it either. Just sit there and be quiet."

I looked down at my bound-up cock. It was still hard and pushing firmly against the restraints. There wasn't much I could do about it, so I just concentrated on things and tried to make it soften, which it eventually did.

After a lengthy shower, Master stepped out and dried off and started shaving. He pushed a bell next to the sink, and a few minutes later Joe showed up and took a long hard look at the new slave, still cuffed, sitting naked on the john.

"Clean him up, then get him bathed. This whole place stinks to high heaven. Bring him back when you're done."

Yes'sa. Will you want breakfast Mista Cole? Or some coffee?"

"Coffee and some fruit. Bananas, grapes, peaches. That's all for me. He'll have some bread. Feed him after you bathe him and give him some water too. I don't want to watch him eat."

"Yes'sa."

"Stand up boy and bend ov'r." Joe grabbed a cloth and soaked it in the shower and then wiped the shit and lube from my ass. He flushed the john and tossed the rag on the bath matt then picked up both and escorted me out by my leash and on my knees. Master kept shaving.

Joe crept slowly down the long hallway with me by his side and took me into a small water closet with a small tub, toilet and sink... a hall bath carved out of a linen closet.

I sat on the closed john and Joe took a small key ring from his vest pocket and unlocked the dog collar, the cuffs, and the chastity device. I was free, finally and completely naked. Joe leaned over to fill the tub.

"There's a bulb in that there cabinet in the corner. Git it and douche out yer ass. Don't piss around... I gotta lot to do."

Jesus. This man has no shame, I thought. He must get paid really well to put up with all of this crap. I found the bulb, filled it up, and spent the next few minutes cleaning out the hole while Joe stood over me and watched my every move. I tried to ignore him, but seriously, have you ever douched up while kneeling at the feet of an old coot? Well, it's not pleasant, and we'll leave it at that.

Before I was allowed in the tub, I had to be shaved, but I wasn't really kosher with the idea of this old man putting a razor on my sac, but he did. He started by soaping up my ass and shaving all the fuzz from my still burning puss, and then he turned me around and removed everything else in the crotch. I thought I was done, but apparently Master likes his slaves completely hairless, so Joe went to work on my face, pits, chest, and legs as well. Everything. Gone. (I did find out later that Joe had been a barber in an earlier existence, so his skills were not to be underestimated.) And not one cut, nick, or bump.

I spent about 20 minutes in the tub. Joe bathed me like a preschooler, even washed my hair (which was never to be cut again). He spoke not a word, and then toweled me off and even had me bend over the toilet so that he could rub ointment on my bruised flesh. It felt good, but I don't think it helped.

Without cuffs, I was able to crawl on all fours back down the hallway to Master's bedchamber. I was wearing the collar and the leash, but nothing else. When we arrived, Master was sitting in a chair on the far side of the room, buck naked, and enjoying the newspaper, fruit, and his coffee. He motioned for Joe to bring me over and then waved him away. Joe left, but never closed the door to Master's room.

"Suck your Daddy's cock while he eats his breakfast."

He lifted his massive pole and aimed it at my face. I opened my mouth and gently inched my way up the shaft until the entire length was buried inside my throat. Master didn't achieve an erection immediately. In fact, I'm not sure he was even paying attention, he just liked having a mouth wrapped around his meat and, in truth, I did like it quite a bit.

While sucking on his ugly black cock, Master would reach down and adjust my mouth on occasion as if to tell me exactly how he preferred me to do it. He rubbed my head like a dog, and at one point did release a stream of piss without warning. I drank it, of course, but I think he was just testing me to see if I was paying attention. I was.

"Do you know where you are?"

I shook my head, still feasting on his cock.

"We're just north of Charleston. I own a canning factory nearby, so I bought this old place and had it restored. Do you like Charleston, boy?"

I nodded.

"Well, that's good I suppose, but don't think I'm going to take you there or anything like that. My slaves don't leave the house and besides... what would you wear? A cockring?" Master laughed like an old Santa, but never looked down. He had me, and he knew it. But I did wonder why he always used the word "slaves" and not "slave." Were there others?

After an extended period of time with his cock in my mouth, Master finally started to sport an erection. He spread his legs a bit and adjusted his sac and sunk into his chair to relax and enjoy things.

"That's it, my boy. Give Daddy's pecker a nice one this morning. That's it, but not too fast. Daddy has plans for your ass later."

That didn't sound very appetizing, but I held back like he said. I didn't want another whipping this early in the day. As his cock grew, I could feel the curve begin to take shape and its head push further into my throat. The veins that ran along its shaft expanded, so I ran my tongue along the sides to gently stimulate them. A younger me would have gagged at having to deep throat such a thing for so long, but I was a pro now, so I performed admirably.

"Let's check out that cunt and see how old Joe did this morning." Master pushed me back and had me stand in front of him.

I turned around, spread my legs as far as I could and bent down to touch the floor. Master grabbed my cheeks and separated them and took a close look at my swollen rim. He rubbed his long black fingers around the edges, checking for loose hairs, and then when he found none, he pushed one of his digits into my hole as if to check for cleanliness. I winced as he did it, but he never objected to that. He enjoyed knowing that he'd hurt me, so he pushed it farther.

"We need to loosen this thing up some. I like it tight, but I'm not a fan of lube, so I'll be training you to take it dry. I like a good dry fuck. The friction turns me on."

I almost vomited at hearing that one. Dry? That cock was huge, and he was already a fan of roughing me up, so the thought of having him fuck me without lube was almost too much to imagine. Master Cole was proving to be both a gentleman and a sadist, and I was getting more nervous by the hour.

Master Cole gripped the back of my thighs and pulled, motioning me to back up a step or two. I did so, and bent forward and he pushed his face into my ass. This was something new. Paulus and Rev were a lot of things, but 'ass-sniffer' isn't a term I would use to describe either of them. Master licked the outer edges of my asshole between sniffs, but very timidly, as if her were sampling a strange delicacy from a third world country.

Then, just as I was beginning to enjoy the attention, he reached up and wrapped his large black hand around my sac, squeezed its contents firmly, and then pulled it forcefully towards the floor. Ouch!... I thought. Master snickered to himself. He clearly enjoyed this type of thing... first a little pleasure, and then a lot of pain.

"I like a nice long sac on my boys, so we'll be stretching this one. Nice nuts, but I wanna see them swinging. This thing needs a lot of work. Don't you worry. It'll take some time, but it'll be worth it."

Yeah, I thought, that's just what I need... a good sac stretcher bouncing around as he's whipping away another layer of flesh from my ass.

Master called out for Joe, who appeared quickly in the doorway. "Hand me his cuffs."

Joe pulled a pair of leather-covered cuffs from his apron pocket and gave them to Master Cole. He cuffed my wrists from the front and motioned for Joe to take me away.

"Yo'r pleasure this morning, sir?"

"The tree out back... the one with the old swing. We'll start there."

"Yes'sa. Come on boy, get on yo'r feet and be quick. I got laundry to do."