Nordic Twink

By dexter 67

Published on Jul 9, 2023

Gay

Archive; 'Nordic Twink Doing As He's Told #44'{Dex67@hotmail.com}( MM bd humil slow )[44!45]

Caution! Sensitive readers are warned: this text may appear vulgar.

Nordic Twink Doing As He's Told - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Part 44 - Be on the pole

Back at the island the twink was kept in the dog gear, with a collar, mittens over his hands, pads on his knees, his calves tied to his thighs and a butt plug with a tail in his ass. He was told to sleep in a dog house. That same day a guest arrived with several big dogs. They sniffed at the human dog, but didn't do anything other than lick his ass. The men kept the twink with the dogs and treated him like one for several days.

It was a tough challenge not to fuck the slave. The game required that they only pat him on his head and torso as they did with the dogs. They didn't talk to him or even look him in the eyes. It created a new form of isolation and distance between the slave and the humans. He had to eat the same dog food as the animals, indeed, the food the dogs left over. The twink got dirty, and his body hair began to grow in his crotch and armpits.

As soon as the guest with the dogs had left the island, Mr. Thorson removed the restraints and threw the slave in the sea. "You filthy little shit," he said as if it was the slave's fault he was dirty. "Go upstairs and shave that body and take a long shower."

It was music to the slave's ears. He hated to be treated like a dog and wanted to present his body as attractively as he could.

When he was clean and presented himself to Mr. Thorson, he was full of expectation. But the man told him to go to the shed and take the position on the shelf. "I will be there soon."

But Mr. Thorson didn't turn up. The slave sat on the shelf for hours with his face to the wall and ass out over the edge. He felt that something had changed on the island. The men weren't as relaxed and playful in their contact with him as before. It was as if the more strict and demanding atmosphere from Mr. Johnson's basement had followed him back here. He wanted to please but was worried about what was required of him, and it made him insecure about his role.

At last Mr. Thorson arrived. He didn't say anything as he turned on a bright light and pointed it toward the exposed pussy so that he could inspect the abused ass ring. Fingers moved over the raw surface and then took hold of the now clearly visible ass lips between his thumb and forefinger. He pulled and pinched.

"Mmm. I see. Not bad. Compress those lips." The twink did as he was told.

"More. Harder." He tried the best he could.

Then the man opened his pants and pushed his cock into the exposed hole. He started to move his cock with long and slow strokes in and out. He leaned forward and spoke near the twink's ear.

"I've missed you ... as I miss all my pets ... But you are special ... Your submission is honest ... Not a game, not anymore ... We both know what's right and proper for a useless creature like you ... Total submission, all the time ... Always ... I love that ..."

The slave was pleased to feel the strength behind the man's thrusts and his cock deep inside. He also surrendered to the demanding message. It was the truth as he now knew it.

Mr. Thorson sped up as he began to move his hands over the smooth body.

"Pinch your ass muscle together more. I want to feel it. Even if you're stretched, you should be able to close your pussy around a visiting cock and give it a warm welcome."

The twink tried hard to close his abused sphincter.

"That's good. Keep it tight. It's the most important muscle in this body." He fucked the twink with all the strength and assertiveness that identified an alpha male. No excuses, no restraint, just fucking the bitch as he saw fit.

Mr. Thorson loved to use a twink like this one without any obligations or remorse. It was liberating and the truth of nature. It was also delightful because he knew the hard treatment was solidifying the slave's new image of himself. Being used this way was like a reset button for a submissive twink's psyche, especially one tortured by mental isolation. It gave him purpose and made him whole.

Their relationship had now become exactly as the master wanted it to be. The tougher the slave was treated the more satisfied and grateful it became.

He couldn't keep it back anymore. He sped up and emptied his load into the boy. After a few moments, he withdrew and took a vice grip on the back of the twink's neck.

"Clean me up." The twink almost fell off the shelf by the hard grip pulling his head down. He had to put his hands on the man's chest as he leaned his head down to the cock. It sent electric signals of delight to be able to hold on to the strong man even if he was dressed. The twink was starved for human contact. But when he had licked the cock clean the man zipped up and walked away.

Life on the island had changed. Jesper wasn't allowed to walk around and take initiative as before. He was pleased to escape most of the dog restraints, but the collar around his neck wasn't just a sign of his low status - it was used for its original purpose, to restrict and control the wearer.

The men used the leash to limit his options. He was led by the leash all the time, and when he was left alone they always tied the rope to something, preventing him from moving around.

He was used less as a slave in the household. Instead, the training that had begun in Mr. Johnson's basement continued on the island. The workouts and gymnastics were done on the lawn outside the main building. He started to receive ballet training to improve the agility in his limbs; the flexibility of his legs was prioritized.

Everybody could look on as the naked slave was instructed to lift weights, do sit ups and perform various gymnastics moves until he was completely exhausted.

Over the course of several weeks different men arrived to teach him. He recognized them from earlier events but didn't know anything about them, not even their names. Each day of training ended in the shed with a hard and demanding fuck. He understood it was the payment they received for acting as his instructor.

Some instructors just bent him over a chair and fucked his ass, but others moved him to a bed of hay in a corner. He loved when they caressed his body while they fucked him. It was heaven for the slave to feel a hard cock in his pussy and strong arms around his body.

On weekends, Mr. Thorson or Mr. Johnson inspected the progress. The slave wanted to be recognized as part of the human fellowship, but the men didn't speak to him during the inspections, only to the instructor who was showing the slave's new abilities. They treated him like a dog or circus animal, even if he no longer wore the dog paraphernalia and wasn't always on all fours.

The rewards were limited to candy he had to take with his mouth from the owner's palm, and the only words said to him were "Good slave." He was mentally isolated, starved of human contact. And it had the desired effect: the slave was more eager than ever to please his masters.

One reason to make the slave's body smooth and supple, besides making it a better fuck toy, was to display him in a certain way at an important party Mr. Thorson was planning.

They had built a display case with a wooden frame and narrow glass cage above, like a showcase in a jewelry store. But instead of diamonds they would put the twink's beautiful body in it, folded in two with the ass at one end. To display a young man in this way was a hot and extravagant fantasy of his owner.

On the day of the party, they removed every device except the black leather collar. He made the journey to the party venue, a castle in the countryside, in a dog travel cage. After the crossing to the mainland, the cage was transported in a delivery van together with equipment and housewares.

The display case was placed in a hall with antiques and other rarities such as medieval armor. The slave was told to lie down on his back and raise his legs. He had some difficulty getting them down beside his torso, but with some help the men could fasten down the glass cover over his body to close the cage. There were five small holes in the glass above his head to give him fresh air.

It was a strange place to be in. The twink could see everyone around him, but he wasn't a part of them. He was an exhibit, like the other things on display in the hall. When people passed, they could look down on him, and he couldn't hide anything. He wished they had blindfolded him, so he didn't have to see the reactions and hungry eyes of people when they first saw him. But one purpose of this kind of exposure was to let him see and be a part of the reactions his naked body created. He had to look at the men standing around the showcase and talking to each other about him as an object of art.

The twink couldn't hear what they were saying, but there was no doubt about what the topic of their conversation was. To his shame, his dick wasn't flaccid, and when many men gathered around the glass cage his dick got harder.

"The more attention he gets, the harder his dick becomes," someone commented.

The guests at the castle were thrilled to be welcomed to a party with a porn star on display, and congratulated the hosts on the excellent entertainment as they sipped their pre-dinner drinks.

"Is he for sale?"

"Can I rent the boy for a weekend?"

Mr. Thorson got a lot of suggestions, and they talked about how to educate and manage a slave boy like this. Men who never had seen a submissive young man like this before were stunned and couldn't stop talking about what it meant to control another human being in this way.

But not everybody appreciated the setting. "You shouldn't keep a man in bondage like this. We do not live in the eighteen hundreds!" one man who was upset with the scene argued to release the boy from his glass cage.

Another man replied to lighten the mood, "I'm for opening the cage, but then I insist on inspecting him! Only to make sure he's not injured, of course." Everybody laughed.

Mr. Thorson took the angry man aside and asked him whether, perhaps, he wanted to meet the boy in private. The man got nervous and apologized.

"Ah, no problem. And my offer stands. If you want to see him before we leave tonight, just let me know." Mr. Thorson put a hand on the man's shoulder, then turned and went back to the other men who were standing with their champagne glasses in their hands and making small talk.

The men closest to the case put their glasses on it. It made the twink feel even more like a thing rather than a fellow human being.

A servant had been instructed to let the twink out of the display case when the guests went up to dinner on the upper floor. The boy's body was stiff and had difficulty moving out of the excruciating position. The servant was eager to help. He let his hands move all over the slave as he lifted the body up and put it on the floor. He then led the naked twink to a checkroom and locked him up in the dog cage. They didn't talk, and he wasn't even fucked that night. He had been treated as an object of art, and it was more humiliating than being a sex toy. It was as if he wasn't good enough for sex or any other human contact.

The strict regimen continued when he was brought back to the island. He was only allowed to move when the men pulled him by the leash. He didn't understand why. It had been ages since he had been disobedient and he couldn't leave the island anyway. The leash was also getting shorter. His mobility was gradually being further restrained.

After the workouts on the lawn each afternoon, a second strenuous training session started after dinner, late in the evening. Because the men present on the island interacted with him, he eventually began to look forward to these sessions he had previously dreaded. They usually started with the men watching him shower, take enemas to clean his boy pussy and shave his body. Then they inspected his muscles and discussed the boy's body among themselves.

"Now, let the fun begin! Bend forward and pull your ass cheeks apart."

The twink could recognize whom amongst the bunch of men had instructed him, but it changed every night, and he stopped even trying to remember the men. They had become an anonymous group to him. They took turns in fucking him -- it was very exciting for the men to have a broken and willing young man to abuse. And the slave could give the men something they wanted: his body.

Then one night they moved to the next level. When the last man was done fucking the boy's pussy, all lubed their hands and the first man, with almost no pressure, moved four fingers into it while the slave was still standing, bent forward, in the middle of the room. After twisting and manipulating them for a minute, he pressed on, and the hand disappeared into the body. The boy moaned and took a step forward, but no one saw it as anything more than a regular part of the game.

When the first man had fisted the hole a couple of times, a second man took his place and moved his hand into the body. Then he clenched his fist and pulled it out. The twink followed the movement and stepped back with his ass in the air.

"No, no. Stand still."

Then the clenched fist wanted back in. His hand wasn't small, and the resistance made it too difficult. He opened his hand and pushed his straightened fingers against the hole. This time the hole swallowed them, and with the last press the palm entered the body.

He immediately withdrew the hand and quickly pushed it back in. The raw fist-fucking had begun. He repeated it over and over again, and the sphincter surrendered. The man continued pushing inside in rapid succession with little resistance.

"Yeah! That's more like it."

"Let me feel that," said a third man as he pushed his hand into the body.

"He is so soft and warm. I could caress his insides the whole night."

The men sat down and drank beer as they watched each other take part in the action.

"Spread it more! Show us the hole!"

Once they had opened him up, the man who had tried to push his clenched fist into the body made a new attempt. This time, he managed to press his knuckles through the ring muscles, but the twink had to take a step forward to remain balanced.

"Damn it! Hold him still." Two men stepped up and grabbed the slave's torso, one on each side.

The big clinched fist made its way forward again. With power behind it and the body fixed in position, the ass muscle had to capitulate. The boxer's fist entered the boy's rectum. Without any rest, the man pulled it back out, only to press it against the battered hole again. The twink lost his grip on his ass cheeks and groaned as the assault relentlessly continued. The big hand went in and out with increasing speed.

"Spread those cheeks. I want to punch-fuck the hole."

The man pounded the ass like a punching bag. The slave started to sob and then bawl. It was the rawest and most painful assault on his ass ever. He didn't know it yet, but this was now going to be an almost daily routine.

Now that they had opened the boy's body, it was time to continue the training. The men sat down to take a pause. One man put his elbow on the bench they used as a table for their beer cans. He raised his forearm up then told the slave, "Sit down with us. On my arm."

While the men talked to each other, the slave stepped forward, turned around and moved his ass to the hand. There was not much resistance when he bent his knees and let his pussy swallow the hand. He stopped.

"Continue. The man said, "Sit down. Do it!"

The twink spread his ass cheeks with his hands and tried to sink his body down on the arm. After some time, one man told him to stand up. The twink thought the ordeal was over.

"Now, try me." The man put his elbow on the bench and smiled. The twink moved to him without any hesitation, put his ass on the new arm, spread his ass cheeks and moved his body down on it.

"That's right. Start to fuck yourself on it. Move up and down."

It was an extraordinary sight to see a handsome and smooth young man fuck his ass over a big and hairy arm, surrounded by other big, vigorous men.

Someone put a hand on the twink's shoulder when he was moving and pressed down to push his body farther onto the arm. The men laughed at the evil act, then continued to talk about sports as though this scene was something completely normal.

When the slave had more than half of the forearm up inside him, the man said, "Okay, stand up."

With some difficulty he did. The arm stayed inside him as the man let his arm follow the movement. It was a display of power. The man moved the twink to one side by his arm inside his body.

"Look, I have a doll to play with!" They laughed.

"Is he as soft further inside?"

"Even softer, like silk."

Some weeks later all the men had tried out the twink's body, up to their elbows. The next step was to move him into a new position on his knees with his body bent forward on the bench. The task was to get both of a man's hands inside. The men took turns stretching the young, elastic body.

As someone opened the ass hole by punch-fucking it, another man used his face. They fucked his mouth and throat, which was now the only tight hole he had left.

Each night, after they had stretched the body according to plan, the slave got his biggest reward. The men followed him into the shower, soaped him up in foam and let their strong hands move all over his hot body. After the shower, the slave used towels to dry off the men's bodies.

When Mr. Johnson arrived at the island, the twink didn't react with disappointment or fear as he had earlier times. Not even when Mr. Johnson roughly pushed three fingers into his mouth and pinched his tongue. In fact, the slave's dick tried to get hard. It made him blush. He was ashamed of his response to the rough man's abusive behavior. The man just gave him an evil smile.

"You are a real pain pig, aren't you?" He removed his hand from the mouth and slapped him hard with an open hand over his face. When he didn't lose his balance, the man hit him again harder and from the other side. This time, the slave stumbled. The third blow with a fist in the stomach finally sank him to the ground.

"Open your mouth and put your tongue out." When he did, the man took hold of it and used it as a leash. The twink could have pulled his wet tongue away, but he knew it would create a motive for severe punishment.

After dinner with the host Mr. Thorson while the slave was sitting on the floor in the dining room with his short leash bound to a ring in the wall, a new kind of training began. At the center of another room stood a vertical pole securely attached to a wooden platform.

Mr. Thorson moved the slave into position with his lower back against the upright pole. Two men lifted him up and spread his thighs. His vulnerable and unprotected asshole was put in place. They teased him with the pole, pushing him around a bit, but then lowered him against the top of the pole until it just started to push into his outer ring. They all looked forward to seeing the twink slide down on it.

"I don't think I can imagine anything hotter than a bitch impaled and completely helpless on a big pole," someone said.

The pole was rounded at the top and only as thick as a large dildo. The twink wondered how low they would impale him when he could feel the tip of it at his pussy. The two men slowly loosened their grip, and he started sliding down on the pole by his body weight.

"Don't fight it! Relax and let it penetrate you. We have control." Mr. Thorson told him.

The twink felt the top of the pole spear his sphincter. By instinct, he began to pull his body up by his arms on the men holding him.

"No, no you don't!" Mr. Thorson slapped his ass hard. The men had no problem controlling the boy using their firm grip on his thighs and upper arms. It was impossible for the slave to escape the pole. It went inside his boy cunt without a problem.

The men lowered the slave's legs to the floor alongside the pole. When his toes were on the ground, the men removed their helping hands. They took some steps back and watched the naked body fighting not to let more of the pole penetrate him by balancing on his toes.

"This puts a body in a wonderful position," someone said. "You can see the young man's muscles stretching." They talked about the twink as if he wasn't there.

He struggled to prevent the foreign and scary object from spearing him deeper. When he was beginning to find his balance on his toes, the men smiled.

"Yes, let him take more of that pole," someone said and put a hand on the naked twink's shoulder and put some pressure on it. Slowly the body lowered itself down on the pole. After a few moments the twink stood with his heels on the floor, now severely impaled on the pole.

"He is completely immobilized, let's have a look at him." The slave had never seen most of these men before, and they greedily moved their hands over his body, but he didn't try to defend himself. He let his free arms passively hang at his sides while the men pinched his tits and pulled his balls. They also began to kiss him on his mouth. Like the good slave he was, he opened his lips and let each of them invade his mouth.

All of the men got more and more aroused. They couldn't believe their luck as they assaulted and shamelessly used the beautiful boy in this way. Hands were everywhere -- palms caressed his throat and the insides of his thighs, and fingers pressed on his Adam's apple making him swallow. The same demanding fingers went to his mouth and forced their way inside.

"Okay! Let him do some work. Fuck yourself on our pole!" Mr. Johnson was more interested in watching the youthful body working than looking at some middle-aged men play with it. The men stepped back and watched.

At first, the twink didn't know what to do. This was an entirely new position to be in. But he wasn't stupid. He began to lift his heels to move his body and ass up on the pole, then let his body slide down again.

"Yeah! So damn sexy!"

It wasn't hard work for the twink's pussy lips; the rather thin pole slid up inside him with ease and no effort.

"Let's see if our toy loves this," Mr. Johnson said as he stepped forward and unlocked the chastity device. Then he quickly stepped back so the men could see that the little dick slowly but certainly was rising and soon pointed to the ceiling.

"Fuck! Damn! What a cunt!" The men were impressed. And it made them feel better to know this twink loved to be abused by them. It made them even hornier. "He wants this!!" someone concluded with surprise and astonishment in his voice.

"Okay, let's go have some beer. She won't go anywhere!" The men laughed as they left the room. The twink tried to lift his body off the pole, but he couldn't. It was too high to get his ass up and off.

The session ended when they lifted him off the pole and then fucked his loose pussy, one by one on the floor beside the pole.

The next day the platform with the pole was moved to the lawn outside the main building. The men followed the slave to it.

"Every day after breakfast and until your afternoon workout begins, you will train that pussy by fucking yourself on this pole," Mr. Thorson said as he lifted the twink by gripping him under his arms and moved him on top of the pole.

"Reach back and guide it to your pussy," he instructed and then lowered the body. Once again the slave was trapped on the pole. He could feel it was now thicker than before. It spread his ass to the point of discomfort, but not pain.

"Relax. This intruder will only have a good effect." As he spoke, he walked around the slave and squatted down to inspect his ass. He spread the ass cheeks and let his thumb move over the stretched ass lips. Then he put his index finger in a groove in the pole that made it possible to move his finger up inside the hole. It further stretched the sphincter, and the slave winced.

"No, no. Relax. I want to feel you up. You know who own this pussy, don't you? Relax."

The twink swallowed and tried to do as he was told. He could feel the finger move up alongside the pole. Then the man made a hook of his finger and pushed it away from the pole to stretch the ass muscle wider, then inserted three more fingers. It created pain, and the slave instinctively tried to bend forward to escape the fingers. The man slapped his ass hard with his free hand.

"Relax this muscle. You have nothing to protect. It should be open for anything."

After a few moments the man pushed his four fingers further up the ass alongside the pole. With his other hand, he inspected the thin and stressed surface of the pussy lips.

"Okay. That hole isn't as open as it should be. We have to continue the training." He tried to sound disappointed but was looking forward to it.


Next: part 45 - Part 45 – Is love possible?

To continue enjoying great stories on Nifty, don't forget to donate at http://donate.nifty.org/

Next: Chapter 45


Rate this story

Liked this story?

Nifty is entirely volunteer-run and relies on people like you to keep the site running. Please support the Nifty Archive and keep this content available to all!

Donate to The Nifty Archive
Nifty

© 1992, 2024 Nifty Archive. All rights reserved

The Archive

About NiftyLinks❤️Donate