No one had told me, but a 'Warehouse' slave is not allowed to refer to another slave as Master and no slave is allowed to address another as slave. Rollo and I had been guilty of committing these unknown offences when putting on our fuck show in the cinema. Two of the Masters in the audience had complained to Master Joop and he told us we would be punished. He didn't say how. He simply ordered us to the top floor terrace where Kaiser, his enforcer, was expecting us in two minutes. We ran up flights and flights of stairs to the top floor lobby. To one side a heavy panelled door with the sign 'Sauna & Steam Room', on the other side an automatic sliding glass door opens into a traditionally furnished Dutch pub featuring a long bar with stools and an area with easy chairs arranged around low tables. We can see Kaiser waiting inside as the doors open at our approach.
"You're late you dogs. I'll add it to your punishment. Follow me."
He leads us through the bar. It's fairly crowded with Masters and numerous naked leashed slaves kneeling on the floor. Out onto a wide terrace where Masters sit at tables drinking and slaves crouch at the side of them. It' sunny, hot and the sky is blue. How wonderful after the dungeon cell. No other higher buildings overlook the roof terrace. Kaiser takes my arm, positions me in a high metal frame, fastens my wrists by chains to the top corners of the frame and my ankles by chains to the bottom corners of the frame. Rollo is chained and spread-eagled in the same fashion in another frame. We're both facing the guys drinking at the tables.
Kaiser goes to the bar and returns with a handful of steel nipple clips. He pulls on my right nipple, twists it until I wince out loud, apples the clip and I wince even more in pain and rattle and drag on the chains securing me. He smiles and repeats the process on my left nipple. Now I'm screeching and have tears in my eyes. The clips are heavy and weigh my nipples down. Kaiser goes over to Rollo and attaches clips to his tits. He moves in his chains, but remains silent. Now Kaiser is back and attaches a clip to each ear lobe, another to weigh down my bottom lip, another to the foreskin on my erect prick and two more to my shaven balls. For several minutes the pain is terrific enough for me to throw myself backwards and forwards in my chains, but then it begins to ease into a duller persistent pain. Meanwhile Kaiser has gone back to Rollo and presumably fastened clips to his body. I see Kaiser walking away through the bar leaving our naked tortured bodies on view as an entertainment for the Masters while they sip their drinks.
We hang in our chains for what seems hours. Occasionally a Master comes over to inspect me. Fondle my body, slap my arse, poke a finger into one or both of my holes, remove a tit clip for a second, and listen while I scream and weep with agony and then re-apply it. In the hot sun my naked body begins to burn and sweat pours down me. Eventually the Masters lose interest and ignore me as I hang in my chains, half-asleep, swaying to and fro. Among other vague thoughts, it comes into my mind that being treated in this way is not my idea of being a slave. If I was doing it to please my Master it would be different. But I don't have a 'my' Master. All Masters are my Masters. They may enjoy using me or seeing me used, but do they really think of me as being a slave owned by them? Does it matter anyway? 'Warehouse' slaves and slaves of the 'Slave Circle' are available goods for any Masters' use. None of them know me. Not important of course because I'm a slave and I still live to be one and continue serving Masters. So what's my problem? It's impersonal. Too impersonal! My thoughts drift back to when I was David's boy. He treated me as his boy to be used and to fuck. I'd loved that relationship. When he handed me over to Mark, knowing that's what I needed, that had been even more wonderful. Being initiated as a real slave to a real Master had fulfilled all my dreams. Being beaten and humiliated as well as fucked added to and satisfied my inner needs. If Mark had handed me on to be the slave of a particular person I think I would have been happier. Rollo has now made me his slave. Perhaps that will help.
Master Joop slapping my face jerks me back to my senses.
"Time for your punishment slave." Master Joop said.
Behind him I can see Master Stefan and Kaiser. Like Master Joop they are holding canes. Beyond them the crowd of onlookers has increased in size with many more Masters obviously waiting for the 'entertainment'. Master Stefan and Kaiser stride out of my view, around behind my back. A soft hand strokes my bottom. It must be Master Stefan. Rollo must have the rougher hands of Kaiser on his arse. Master Joop stands facing us He strikes his hand lightly with his cane. At the same time I feel a stinging cut to my bottom, across both cheeks. I yelp. Master Joop continues tapping his hand and Master Stefan canes my backside in time to the tapping. Master Joop gradually speeds up and the strikes to my arse come faster and harder. I begin to scream and can hear Rollo yelling also. The crowds is loving it and now clap their hands in time to the fast and furious beating. Tears roll down my face. The chains holding me jangle loudly as I struggle to pull my arse forward to avoid the unavoidable cuts. It's to no avail. My bottom and my thighs are on fire with pain. Master Joop laughs and excitedly strikes the palm of his hand harder oblivious of the pain he is causing himself. Wow! This is too much. I try my old trick of thinking of myself exposed naked in the town square receiving public punishment. It doesn't work. My mind is too concentrated on the pain I'm suffering. My tears combine with the snot running from my nose and the spittle oozing from my mouth as I gasp, blubber and scream. I want to be a slave, but not like this. Not like this. The caning continues until my bottom feels raw. Is it bleeding? So what?
It takes me a moment to realise the caning has stopped and I can stop screaming. Through the haze of tears I can see and hear Master Joop conducting some sort of auction. The crowd of Masters excited by the spectacle of two slaves being reduced to screams and tears are eager to possess us. Rollo is sold to two evil looking leather hulks who drag him away towards the lobby. Now it's my turn and, in spite of my pain, I begin to take an interest. A bid of one thousand leaves only two still upping the price.
"Fifteen hundred." I hear a voice, but can't see the owner.
"Two thousand." An American accent. A guy wearing a white suit sitting at the front.
"Sold to Master Juan." Shouts Master Joop.
Master Juan looks to be in his fifties. His immediate appeal to me is his rather stern handsome good looks and his prematurely grey hair. He stands up and I can see his tall, slim, and muscular body. I lower my head as he approaches me. He gently raises my chin with the tip of a finger and he looks into my eyes. His are hard, black and luminous.
"You are English?"
"Yes Master."
"Your long blond hair is beautiful."
"Thank you Master."
"Most unusual. Take him to my room." He signals to two naked slaves with jewel encrusted silver collars. They look as if they might be Chinese, but as they are both wearing black hoods, it's difficult to be sure.
They unshackle me and lead me through the bar, down several flights of stairs and along a carpeted corridor. One of them opens a door and we're in what I take to be slave quarters. Perhaps, as they appear to be Master Juan's personal slaves, their quarters. It's small and windowless. On each side is a shallow padded box resembling a dog basket. The only other fittings are a toilet open to the room and a shower area with enema equipment hanging on the wall. The slaves proceed to give me an enema and after a short wait seat me on the toilet. Two more enemas follow before I'm pushed under the shower and given a thorough scrubbing except for my still painful bottom and thighs, which they wash gently. Afterwards they apply some sort of balm to my backside before surprising me by finishing me off with hair dryers! No word has been spoken and I refrain from speaking myself.
I'm taken back down the corridor and stop outside a panelled double door. One of the slaves taps the door. I hear no response but he opens the door and we enter a huge luxuriously furnished room with high windows overlooking the canal. Sitting in an armchair is Master Juan still wearing his white suit. The slaves walk me towards him, then more or less lift me onto his lap, step back and kneel on the floor with their heads bowed. I discover Master Juan's white suit is made from silk and the feel of my naked body against it is extremely sexy. He kisses and sucks on my tender nipples then places an arm around my neck, draws me to him and kisses me on the lips. His tongue seeks my mouth and I open up and suck on him. I feel his other hand pressing between my thighs and I open my legs. His fingers fondle my prick, push back my foreskin, encircle my balls and then feel out my boycunt. A long finger enters me. This excites me as nothing else could and I cling to him tightly. I gasp as his finger strokes my prostate and suck on his tongue harder in response. I resist as he slowly withdraws his tongue from my mouth. He smiles, kisses me gently on my lips, stands up with me in his arms and carries me across the room, places me lying down on a silk covered ottoman and stands up. He snaps his fingers and the two slaves crawl forward. One holds my ankles together while the other holds my hands above my head. Master Juan takes what looks like a fountain pen from his pocket and kneels down. I feel a slight pinprick in my bottom. He's still smiling down at me as I begin to feel sleepy.
It's dark when I wake up. Pitch black darkness. I don't know where I am. I can feel padded cuffs holding my wrists high above my head. More cuffs holding my ankles high up with my legs spread wide. It dawns on me; I'm in a sling. The distinct taste of semen in my mouth. My nipples feel tender and my prick feels raw from being sucked hard and long. My boycunt also feels sore and used and dripping with what I guess must be Master Juan's spunk. But why put a slave to sleep to do it? Some sort of kink? Probably! I cough and spit out a blob of his semen. It lands on my belly. I blink as several spotlights almost blind me. Perhaps the noise of my cough has activated them. I'm in a small room. The high ceiling is black and the walls are draped with bright scarlet satin. I hear a door opening and Master Juan emerges from behind the drapes followed by his two hooded slaves. He's wearing well-cut white silk slacks and shirt.
"You make good sex boy." He smiles.
Even better if I'm awake I think. He spends a moment looking at me naked and helpless. My hole spread and dripping from his fucking. I can see his excitement has revived. He moves to my side and rests a hand on my forehead just like a genial family doctor might. One of his fingers traces over my eyebrows. It feels odd. He places his hand on my forehead again and slowly moves it back over my head. Now I know. My head is as smooth as my bottom. He or his slaves have shaved me bald. As he smiles, tears well up in my eyes. He snaps his fingers and his two slaves step forward. They remove their hoods. They are Chinese, but they are totally devoid of hair. Smooth heads and smooth eyebrows. Now I'm the same.
Please let me know what you think of this chapter. will.obe@btinternet.com