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Note: Any resemblance to real people is strictly coincidental. No real people are depicted in this piece of fiction. This story contains explicit male to male sex, domination and bondage. If you don't enjoy reading this sort of material or are under the age of 21, DO NOT CONTINUE READING. If you regard this type of material as depraved then flee from here and don't look back! This story is NOT to be taken as an endorsement of the materials found on that site. Caveat emptor.
Mergers and Acquisitions -- Chapter 5
The two hired hands lowered the chains holding Brad upright and as the chains went down, his arms descended as well. He briefly considered fighting, now that his arms were no longer suspended over his head but, when he tried to lift his hands just to see what he could do, he realized that there was no power of movement in them. Besides, he was still manacled and all they would need to do would be to step back, move behind him and lay him out flat. The best thing would be to cooperate. The most important thing right now was to get along and stay alive.
The muscle Thornsburg had called "Guy" removed the manacles from his wrists and quickly cuffed his arms behind his back. Then he unlocked the shackles on his feet. Guy and the other goon, whom Guy called "Bill", picked Brad up under his arms and carried him out of the room and down the hall.
Guy was quite a large man, about 6' 4" and weighing probably 240 lbs. and all of it muscle as far as Brad could tell. He had dark brown hair cut into a flat top and ample fur on his defined arms. Bill, likewise, was big, a little shorter than Guy but just as defined, with red hair cut high and tight. He seemed to be smooth, as far as Brad could tell, though he didn't consider himself an expert on men's body hair.
They half carried, half dragged Brad down the hall and through a door into a bedroom. It was obviously not the master suite because the bed was only a double and there was only a single window. Brad was relatively sure that the master suite would be much more luxurious and well-appointed than this rather simple room. Certainly his own suite was better-appointed than this room. Jack Thornsburg was sitting on the bed with some pieces of leather next to him.
"Bring him to me," he ordered and Guy and Bill did as they were ordered.
They stood Brad in front of Jack and held his arms, preventing him from bolting. Jack looked him up and down sternly and Brad felt small and powerless, even though he was as large as Jack, if not his two factotums.
"Tch, tch, tch," Jack said, shaking his head. "I thought we might be beyond this but it's obvious that you haven't learned all your lessons yet. So I'm going to need to discipline you again, my boy. I'm surprised and a little disappointed, but then, I should've expected this from you. After all, you're a strong-willed boy and not easy to teach. Across my lap boys. Hold his hands and his feet."
Guy and Bill picked Brad up and laid him across Jack's lap, one holding his hands pulled taut behind his back, the other holding his feet. Brad tried to struggle but had no leverage with which to work. The pain from the arm lock he was being held in communicated itself directly to his brain, letting him know that his arms would be dislocated from his shoulders if he struggled, so he breathed deeply, trying to relieve the pressure. Then he felt Thornsburg's hand softly rubbing his ass sending a shiver up his spine.
"Fifteen blows boy. Next time it'll be thirty. Every infraction will double the punishment, just to let you know ahead of time. The results will be up to you and how cooperative you can be. Count 'em or we start again."
Smack!
The shock of what was being done to him and the pain of the blow on his already sore ass made Brad jump as he cried out, which sent a shock of pain through his tight shoulders. Jack waited a moment.
"Well boy, it seems you've already forgotten your first lesson, so we'll start again," he said sternly.
Smack!
Again, Brad jumped but quickly recovered himself and his memory.
"One sir, thank you sir. May I have another sir?" he cried out.
Smack!
"Two sir, thank you sir. May I have another sir?"
By the tenth blow he was choking and squirming from the pain and humiliation. A cry rose in his throat at each blow. His cock was hard and Jack had trapped it between his thighs, adding to Brad's humiliation in this most intimate, degrading situation. Once again, his psyche was thrown into childhood and he was a little boy again, being treated to an over-the-knee spanking by his father, who had hardly interacted with him for any other purpose and he sounded like a boy with each high-pitched, pained "Owww!" and choked cry that accompanied every stroke.
Finally, it was over. Jack soothed his burning bottom with his hot hands and kissed the red cheeks.
"Don't make me do that again boy. It makes daddy sad to have to hurt his boy," he crooned.
"I'm sorry daddy," Brad cried, his mind sinking into his memories. "I'll try to be good."
"Good boy," Jack said, shoving Brad off his lap and onto the floor where he curled up in a heap.
Jack rolled him onto his hands and knees and buckled a leather collar around his neck, snapping a leash onto it. Then he stood next to Brad's head and stroked his buzzed hair. Brad nuzzled the hand that had disciplined him and had provided him this small comfort.
"Good boy," Jack repeated. "Let's go back to the classroom."
He strode out of the bedroom and down the hall with Brad in tow, scrambling on the floor to keep up with him. They entered the room where Guy and Bill were waiting. They picked Brad up and carried him across the room to a high bench. Brad remembered seeing pictures of things like this and knew what it was used for but this was his first time to be placed on one. It resembled a tall sawhorse, but there was a leather-padded top plank rather than a wooden beam. On one set of legs were hooks from which leather manacles hung a couple of feet down. The legs at the other end had shackles closer to the floor. Guy and Bill laid him out on the top of the bench. They took the cuffs off his arms and positioned them next to the manacles. They buckled the manacles on his wrists and then pulled a long leather belt around his mid-section and buckled it tight underneath the bench. Guy grabbed his cock and balls and pulled them back so that they hung down off the end of the bench. Then they bent his legs, wrapped belts around his calves and thighs, binding upper and lower legs together. They passed straps behind his knees and his bent legs were pulled as far forward as they would go. Once again, he was completely immobilized and utterly at their mercy with his asshole completely exposed.
"Please," he thought. "Just please don't kill me."
"You're a little old, but it is what it is," Thornsburg said, stepping up to the end of the bench where Brad's head hung. "Still, I've never believed the old adage 'you can't teach an old dog new tricks.' Seems to me that with your brains and physical conditioning, you'll learn just fine, right pup?"
Brad raised his head to look at Thornsburg, wondering if he was speaking to him. Sure enough, he was looking down at him, obviously expecting an answer. But he still couldn't figure out what the hell Thornsburg's intentions were. This whole scene was entirely outside the realm of his experience. Still, he knew he'd better respond positively. He'd experienced the result of negative answers and he wanted to avoid that if he could, even if his dick somehow liked it.
"Yes sir," he said, straining to keep his head up.
"Good pup. I know you'll do just fine. So let's get started. The first lesson will be how to please a man with your mouth. Any pup should be able to do that, don't you think boys?" he asked, grinning at Guy and Bill.
"Yes sir," they crowed, grinning back.
Thornsburg pushed his thumb between Brad's teeth. "Suck it," he ordered.
Brad began to suck and as he did, Thornsburg pushed his fingers in, stretching Brad's aching jaw and manipulating his tongue. It made no intellectual sense to Brad but the sense of humiliation was overwhelming. Here he was, bound, helpless, with another man shoving his hand into his mouth and he was completely powerless to stop it.
It was slowly beginning to dawn on Brad what Thornsburg had in mind for him but he couldn't really get his mind around it. But his intuition gave him a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach and a fluttering in his groin.
"Help the pup with his head Bill. Even though he's in good shape, his neck muscles won't yet be accustomed to holding his head up for the extended period needed to please a man," Thornsburg said.
Dutifully, Bill stood next to Brad and, grabbing his ears, pulled his head up. As he gasped from the pain and shock, his jaw opened and in that split second Jack shoved his firm cock into Brad's open mouth.
"Keep your teeth off my cock boy! Don't do anything you'll regret," Jack said. "And believe me when I tell you I can make you regret the day you were born if you hurt me!"
And Brad believed him. He gagged and choked as the dick slid in and collided with his soft palate. He cried out in shock and disgust and tried to pull back from the flesh impaling his mouth, choking and gagging as he tried to escape but he tried to resist the urge to bite down. For there was no escape. He was securely strapped down and Thornsburg had full freedom of movement, not to mention two very capable men to control a resisting victim. Quickly pulling out, Thornsburg slapped him hard across the face, leaving a burning hand-print on his cheek and bouncing his head off his own shoulder.
"You stupid fuck! I felt your teeth on my cock. What did I say to you? What the hell do you think is going on here?" Thornsburg demanded angrily. "You have no say in this matter or in anything else that goes on here. Now if you want to get out of this in one piece, I suggest you cooperate. Get it?"
Brad eyes burned with anger.
"I'm not a cocksucker, goddammit!" he shouted. "Let me go!"
He rocked the bench in his futile efforts to free himself.
Jack Thornsburg was breathing hard but his voice was controlled and cold.
"OK pup. Then I'll just have to punish you again. Twenty more and you'd better count or it'll go to fifty."
Jack moved to the back of the stand and laid one hand on Brad's butt.
"So pink, so hard. I may never get enough of this ass," he said and brought his other hand hard into Brad's glutes.
"Aaaggghhh. One sir, thank you Sir. May I have another sir?" Brad cried out, his head thrown back.
By the time he'd reached eight, Brad's dick was stiff and dripping on the floor. Jack's own cock was standing proud and throbbed with each blow. On occasion, he'd miss and hit Brad's balls and cock, rather than landing on his melons and those blows brought a howl from the bound man who had never had his cock and balls beaten in his life. Finally, it was over and Jack walked back to the head of the bench, rubbing the palm of his hand.
"I swear boy, this is as hard on me as it is on you. Next time I may use a paddle instead. Lick my hand to ease the pain."
Jack held his red palm up to Brad's gasping mouth. Glancing up, his eyes filled with pain and anger, he stretched out his tongue and licked the palm that had punished his burning ass.
"Now tell me, are you ready to be a cocksucker or do you want some more?"
"Y-y-yes Sir. I'm ready to suck cock," Brad answered, slumping down on the bench.
"Good. Now, since you're proving to be a hard case, let's change the dynamics here. If you want to suck my cock, you're going to have to ask for it. Do you understand what I'm saying boy?"
Brad raised his head to look into Thornsburg's eyes. He couldn't believe what he was hearing but seeing the cold menace in those eyes, realized that he needed to do whatever was demanded of him if he was ever to escape this nightmare.
"Please sir," he whispered hoarsely, "may I suck your cock?"
"I couldn't hear you boy. What did you say?"
"Please sir, may I suck your cock?" he said more loudly.
"I'm sorry boy. I'm a little hard of hearing. Say it again and say it as though your life depended on it."
The threat wasn't lost on Bradford McClintock.
"Please sir," he said loudly, "may I please suck your cock?"
"Oh, you want my cock boy?"
"Yes sir, I want your cock. Please let me suck your cock sir."
"All right boy. I think I can do that for you," said Thornsburg, glancing to his right at the mirror mounted on the side wall of the room. "Here you go my boy."
By this time, his cock was fully erect and he slid it into Brad's open mouth. Brad had a difficult time breathing as the column of stiff flesh plugged his throat. Then he realized that when Thornsburg pulled back, he could inhale and he found the rhythm. Jack held onto his ears and spoke as he fucked.
"You like this don't you pup?" he asked. "Nod your head if you like this."
Brad hardly comprehended what was being said to him. He heard "nod you head" and he nodded vigorously, hoping to placate his assailant and, somehow, escape these unbelievable circumstances.
"Good boy, good pup. I thought you might. Aggressive guys like you frequently use that aggression as a cloak for their real submissiveness. And I'm happy I can be the one to bring you out," Jack chortled.
Breaking Brad McClintock was going to prove as challenging as he'd originally thought. But, hard or easy, he was enjoying it and knew it would prove immensely profitable for him in the end; in more ways than one. Jack pulled himself back from his sexually-charged reverie and looked down at the man strapped down to the bench. He saw that his eyes were closed even though he was working hard with the muscles of his throat. Jack tapped him on the top of his head.
"Look up at me boy. Open your eyes and look at me as you suck my cock. I want to see that you want it. I want to read it in your eyes," Jack instructed.
Brad shuddered at this indignity but knew he had no choice but to cooperate. So he opened his eyes and raised them to look into Thornsburg's face. His tormentor was smiling but it was far from a warm, caring smile; it was a smile of victory and satisfaction. Brad felt himself slipping farther and farther away. His sense of selfhood was disappearing with each drop of pre-cum that he swallowed. His mind sought a hidden place, far away, where it could hide until his torment was over.
He gagged and coughed around the stiff flesh filling his mouth and the guttural sounds he made as he protested his humiliation sounded wanton in his own ears. What was going on? He didn't want this; he was sure of that. But his choking cries gave lie to his internal protestations and his stiff cock told another story; a story he hated.
What had happened? What had gone wrong? He was a giant in his field; a mover and shaker, a macher. But he'd been reduced to a cock-sucking piece of meat, forced to beg to swallow his principal competitor's cock. He was forced to look up to his adversary and look like he wanted this. He flushed scarlet from head to toe in his humiliation and what utterly mystified him was why his own cock was so hard. Was it possible that he really did want this? Was it possible he was, at heart, a submissive man as Thornsburg had suggested? It was impossible; he hated submissive men: they were weak and useless, of less value than dogs. Submissive men were beneath contempt.
Mergers and Acquisitions -- Chapter 6
He saw Jack nod to someone standing behind him and soon felt a finger, or something like a finger, teasing the lips of his ass. He jerked, trying to move away from whatever it was but he was bound and unable to go anywhere.
"No, no, no," he shouted, his words unintelligible but his meaning quite clear as he shook his head against the cock filling his mouth.
Please, he shouted in his internal cry, please don't fuck me. I'm a man, not a faggot. Please don't fuck me. I'll suck cock but please don't fuck my ass. Then he realized there was no warmth in whatever was touching him and momentarily felt less threatened. But as it pushed forward, past his first sphincter, parting the lips of his anus, he realized this was only the precursor to what was to come. The object continued to slide into him and tears welled up in his eyes. He was going to be fucked: No, he was already fucked!
"No," he cried, beginning to weep in humiliation and frustration.
He had to make this stop. His worst nightmare was coming true. The object was small, more like a pencil than a cock and he felt a moment of relief: Perhaps they would leave his ass alone. Then he felt a coolness, like something being injected into his anus and the object was withdrawn. Immediately, there was another object, larger than the first, pressing against his rosebud. It was pushed home until he felt his muscles close around a narrow part of the object and it lodged home. And there was a part of it pressing against his perineum.
"That's an Aneros™" Thornsburg said. "It'll get your ass warmed and hungry for us. They're great tools for breaking a closet bottom boy like you pup!"
Brad didn't know what to make of it but, clenching his ass muscles, seeking to expel it, he felt the thing throb inside him, tickling his prostate and the sensitive flesh between his scrotum and his ass. The feeling was unlike any he'd had and, almost against his better judgment, he found the muscles of his ass to rhythmically clenching to continue the stimulus. But it made him feel like a woman or a faggot. He shook his head violently, whip sawing Thornsburg's cock as he shouted.
"No, no, no. Don't do this! Stop it. Stop it. I'm not a faggot!" he yelled.
But, with his mouth full of cock, none of this was intelligible. Still, Jack knew exactly what he was shouting.
"Calm down boy," he soothed, stroking Brad's sweating head. "Calm down. Nothing you can do will stop this. You've lost your vote in this transaction."
Jack Thornsburg smiled and continued his assault on McClintock's mouth and self-esteem as Brad struggled to catch his breath. He knew how to break the competition and he knew quite well how to break a man and turn him into a dog slave. He'd done it before and would do it again. What made this especially satisfying was that, while taking this particular man down, he was also removing his primary competitor. Soon, Brad McClintock's company would become part of his and Brad McClintock himself would belong to Jack Thornsburg and would be very happy to be owned. Or not. But whether Brad was happy or not really made little difference to his tormentor. He was being turned into a slave and slaves have no rights and are worthy of no consideration.
"Guy, work the Aneros. Pump him a little and tease him," Thornsburg ordered.
Guy moved behind the boy and took hold of the handle on the Aneros. He pushed it a bit, rubbed the perineum stimulator against his sensitive flesh and then pulled it almost all the way out several times. Each time, Brad whimpered and wriggled his butt as best he could, strapped down the way he was. Was he trying to escape it or encourage it? Even he didn't know.
Then Guy pulled it all the way out and rubbed it over the pursing, grasping ass-lips. Brad's whimpers turned to squeals around the cock filling his throat as Guy tickled his pucker. He wrenched hard against the straps, trying vainly to get loose to get away from that thing. It was having an affect on him like nothing else had. Jack pulled his cock out of Brad's hungry mouth and traced the outlines of his ears with his fingers.
"What's the matter boy? You want something? You seem to want it real bad. Why don't you tell me what you want pup?" he said soothingly, gently stroking Brad's ears and nodding at Guy to let him know he should continue teasing the boy's ass.
"I..." he gasped. "Help me. I need..."
Jack beamed at Brad and, letting go of his ears, moved slightly to Brad's left.
"What boy? Tell me what you need. And look at me!"
Brad groaned in need and despair. He looked at the floor, breathing hard, but finally turned his head to look up at Jack. His eyes were shiny with need and humiliation.
"I-I... I need it," Brad said struggling. How could he say out loud what he felt in his gut, what his empty ass was crying for?
"You'll have to say it boy. I can't help you if you can't tell me what you need. You understand that don't you boy?"
"Y-yes Sir. I understand. I-I... I need to be fucked. Please fuck me sir," he finally forced out, the tears of self-contempt spilling out and running down his cheeks.
"I'm sorry boy, but you didn't sound like you were sure. Can you tell me louder and with more conviction?" Jack said, nodding slightly to Guy.
Guys pushed this penetrator in a couple of inches and wiggled it around, massaging Brad's unsatisfied button.
"Uunnnh! I need to be fucked sir. Fuck me sir," Brad grunted through gritted teeth, his neck arching upward as every muscle in his body tensed from the stimulation of his anus.
"Good boy. I'm glad you could finally say it, and to reward you, I'm going to give you what you want. You're going to enjoy this almost as much as I am my boy. Is he clean Guy?"
Guy pulled out the Aneros, which was streaked with brown.
"No sir. Needs an enema. Shall it give him one?" he asked.
"No, don't bother. He can do clean up duty afterwards. It'll be more degradation for him," Jack laughed, moving behind Brad and applying lube to his dick.
All the while, Brad was babbling almost incoherently.
"Don't. Don't hurt me. No, no, no. Let me go. Let me... I've never been fucked. Don't fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. Please..."
Thornsburg grinned and stepped up to the waiting hole that pulsed with its need to be filled. He parted the lips with his thumb and forefinger and placed the wide head of his cock against the opening.
"Now boy, you're going to have the first of many such experiences. I'm happy to be the one to take your cherry."
With that, he pushed firmly against the portal and slid in until the head of his cock passed the sphincters. Even though he'd been warmed up with the Aneros, Brad hadn't been stretched yet and he howled as the pain and fire of this first breaching of his gates spread up his spine and across his pelvis. He howled at the violation of his prized manhood and at his loss.
"No, no, no. Please! Ahh, ahh, ahh, unngggh," he gasped, trying to find a way to accommodate to this impaling.
"Just keep breathing boy and relax. Your body will adjust. Just give it a couple of minutes," Jack instructed.
In truth, he didn't in the least regret the pain this was causing McClintock. Several of the employees Brad had carelessly injured and discarded had come to Jack for work and found solace as well. They were more than happy to share their stories of their ill-treatment at McClintock's hands with their new, understanding boss. So they spilled their guts, giving Thornsburg a small, but telling part of the history of McClintock's abuses. The momentary pain the boy was now experiencing was just a small part of the payback. But the real bill would come later and that one McClintock would not become accustomed to as he would a cock splitting his ass.
One of those former employees, Bob Conover, had come to Jack with a revealing story that had sparked an idea a few months ago. Conover had told Jack that he'd been so angry at McClintock for firing him in such a humiliating way, that he'd gone to see him in his office. His rage got the better of him and he found himself lunging across McClintock's desk and pulling him out of his chair onto the floor. As they struggled, Bob realized that, as he began to overpower McClintock, he felt his abuser's cock stiffening. Conover thought this very odd because it seemed that McClintock was getting a rise out of being dominated. He'd been so surprised that he actually fell off of McClintock who used the momentary advantage to get behind him and get him into an arm lock. Conover said that, as McClintock held him, waiting for security, he'd felt his stiff cock against his backside. He was still mystified by it but it answered some important questions for Jack. He'd hired Bob and thanked him for his honest feedback and promised him rewarding opportunities in his company. Yes, Bob would receive a rich reward one day soon, but not yet, not quite yet.
When Jack felt the ring of muscle encircling his cock beginning to relax, he began to push farther in. The bound man began to whimper more loudly.
"Please, please don't fuck me, please don't."
"Oh I will fuck you my boy. Whether you want it or not. You'll be fucked in ways you never thought possible," Jack gloated.
McClintock began to rhythmically grunt as Thornsburg's quite ample cock massaged his prostate and gave him a literal sense of fulfillment he'd never experienced.
"Clamp his tits," Jack ordered and Guy moved quickly to comply.
He took a pair of clover-leaf clamps and, tweaking Brad's flat nipples to make them stand a little more proud, fastened them on. Brad, in the thrall of a sexual haze, experienced the pain as a further heightening of his lust and need.
"Those babies are going to need some development sir," Guy said.
"We'll start... on that tomorrow... along with... the rest... of his training," Jack grunted between thrusts.
With each thrust, Guy would yank on the chain connecting the clamps, coupling pain to arousal and need. It was the physical need for satisfaction and the psychological need for humiliation. Unable to move or exert any control whatsoever, Brad McClintock was discovering the need to be out of control, to be controlled by another.
"Bill, give the pup a good spanking while I'm busy here," Jack said.
Bill stood beside the bound boy and began spanking him hard, so much so that it hurt his hand. The boy responded at first with grunts and quiet cries. Then, as his butt began to become more and more sensitive and inflamed, he began to cry.
"Owww. Please sir, no more. Owww. Make him stop, make him stop," he wailed as he attempted, in vain, to move his butt out of the way of the hand that was assaulting it.
But his cock responded to the pain and the sounds and grew stiffer and increased its output of pre-cum, throbbing with each thrust and spank, making a pool of clear, sticky fluid on the floor beneath him.
Brad's voice rose in pitch and stress as Jack drove him closer and closer to the brink of his own destruction and completion. In the back of his mind, he could see it coming, but knew there was nothing he could possibly do to stop it, as much as he hated what it was calling up in him. Though he'd never done it, he imagined this was like doing coke for the first time: it was addicting and once he went in, he would never be able to get out of it. He hated what this was doing to him; his body screamed its need; his brain screamed "No!"
"No, no, no. Uuunnhh, uuunnnhhh, uuunnnnh, aggghhh!" he cried, his entire body coiling itself inside his skin and exploding in a climax that gave lie to any other so-called orgasm he'd had.
The waves passed through him like tsunamis until he collapsed, all the while, having hardly moved, since he was securely bound to the bench. His breath came in ragged, vocalized gasps with hoarse whispered pleas.
"Please, please, please. Oh God, Christ. Oh God. Please make it stop. No more. Please, no more," he babbled, hardly comprehending what had just happened or what was going on around him.
To be continued.