Buck moved the first three lots-what he came to call the slaves to be auctioned. He assigned the three of them to different fields and different trustees. He went to the bus station to pick up the next three lots to take their place in the honeyroom. His job now was to make sure that the stability of the ranch stayed in order. When they were chained in a tile trough, the lots could do nothing to disrupt the order of things directly. Now that they were out in the general population, the chances went up dramatically. Buck was going to be wandering the fields far more often and with a sharper eye than he had in a very long time. With Dax and Seth handling ninety percent of his communications responsibilities, he had the time and definitely had the inclination to do what he saw as his main job: keeping the ranch in order.
www.bruderschaftdeseisernenadlers.co.de
Dax started on his Monday as usual. He was still nursing a strained hamstring he injured hauling his pile of weeds to be burned the previous Saturday. He was grateful for being in Buck's office. His gratitude wasn't so he could rest the muscle, but because he still had some vanity and pride. After he injured the muscle his trustee, Jeremy, sent him to the infirmary to have it wrapped. So he was naked except for the ace bandage, which looked stupid to him. At least with his communications uniform-i.e. jock-he would look like an injured sprinter in a locker room.
He would enter chat rooms, check out the profiles and message those he thought would be decent candidates, which was very rare. So after checking out the initial list, he would only periodically check it again. Otherwise he would wait like the noiseless patient spider for a potential candidate to message him. His mean time was spent playing games on yahoo or generally surfing the net.
On Mondays, he would typically check out the IE history of where Seth had been. They shared the same cabin and the same patch of corn, but saw each other only rarely, so this was a way for Dax to get to know the cute German. His back and ass and pride all still remembered the punishment they took for falling in love, so this wasn't anything even remotely related to that. It was more a curiosity since Buck had obviously linked the two together in his mind. So he spent part of his Monday trying to piece together part of Seth's character based on the sites he visited during his turn at the keyboards.
Seth liked news sites in Europe. He seemed to visit places like web pages for The Observer, Le Monde, Berliner Zeitung. He liked soccer websites as well for several teams in Germany and England.
Despite being surrounded by naked men, sex basically on demand, and SM and fetish scenes of all sorts, Seth liked to visit some porn sites. Dax too for that matter. No matter how often a man gets what he thinks he wants, he is typically convinced that there is more that he hadn't thought about and will seek out. Seth's porn tastes were pretty tame. He preferred solo shots and non-sexual group shots of men in and out of their soccer kits and uncut men. He also visited a couple of story sites, a couple in German and others in English.
In previous weeks, Dax noticed that Seth would go to some pro Nazi and National Front web pages. His conclusion was that Seth was curious about them in the same way he was curious about the Family Research Council and other anti-gay organizations in the US. This week he discovered a site called www.bruderschaftdeseisernenadlers.co.de he knew enough German to know it was brotherhood of something, and knew enough to know how to separate the words. A quick trip to freetranslation and he gets: the brotherhood of the iron eagle.
The site was obviously Neo-Nazi/skinhead. It had no English translation, so Dax used his pidgin and freetranslation to get an idea of what he was looking at. At first, he thought it was just more of the same from weeks previous. Then he saw the page with the pictures. He saw the face and the name, Seth Spee, and the word tod. He clicked on the picture and slogged through the little blurb about his communications mate. It seems that the thugs of the Iron Eagle discovered that one of their own was a 'sodomite' and 'childfucker.' The first was obvious, the second was likely an outright lie. Still, seeing that his teammate and fellow in the yoke had been a skinhead before appearing at the ranch gave him pause. And peaked his curiosity.
First Day in the Field
It's funny that the same food can taste different in different places. I'm eating this slave chow, they call it, out of the same sort of metal bowl, but I am eating it with my hands and at my pace. It still is bland, but I notice that it isn't as bland as it was when I was in the trough.
My name is still Pete and I still want to be here. If I can make it ten days-I lost count, my trustee Stephen told me-like I did, then I can take whatever I learn out here before I am on the auction block.
I have a patch of corn that I am supposed to take care of. I go get water in buckets and pour it, I weed it. Most of the time is spent weeding it seems. Stephen tells us when to get water, otherwise we are to make sure that the patch is weed free. I might care later that this is boring as shit, but right now with the sun on my skin and no one shitting in my face, I can do any boring thing that they throw at me.
I got out of the toilet last night. Buck took me to a shack and walked off with the other two guys who had been with me. The others in the shack introduced themselves and I tried to follow their names but I was too tired. A couple of them started fucking again, apparently we interrupted them. Two of them came up to me and wanted to do a threesome but I was so tired that I fell asleep with a cock in my mouth. I apologized to the guy this morning, he just laughed at me and said that that's how all honeyboys are after they are let out.
His name is Ty and he seems to be ok. He is built like a total hot, squat shithouse, but is stupid as a shithouse too it seems. Either that or he just doesn't give a damn. He is a bit smelly though. We are all dusty and pretty rank, but he seems to be worse for some reason, like he is taking special pride and paying special attention that he stays that way. The others in the shack don't seem to notice. I would say that it is because I'm just not used to it, but the others in the shack didn't seem to smell the same way.
Stephen sort of explained really quickly what I was supposed to do, it isn't that complex but my head is still reeling from the last ten days, so Ty has given me a bit more hands on training, in more ways than one. After I got into the patch, I wasn't going to wait anymore. My balls were so blue that even very careful walking hurt like lightening. It was to the point where I was dribbling cum even through a soft cock. It took forever and pain worse than any of the whippings I got in the trough to get my cock hard. I know I could have shot a load with it softer, but that never feels as good.
"Hey man, you don't want to cum on the ground or nothin'. If you cum or piss or shit in the corn they will take you out what whip you worse than anything you got in the honeyroom."
"Shit, you scared me Ty. Look man I'll catch the cum, whatever I just have to get off."
"Hell, I thought you would be smarter than that, I'll suck you off guy. Don't want Stephen catching us slackin', but it looks like your fixin' to bust so it won't take long to suck it out of you."
He go on his knees and motioned for me to stand up. "Don't make no noise, I don't want to take a whippin' because you couldn't keep a lid on."
In less than a minute I came. I came for what seemed more than a minute. Launch after launch of ball juice. I bit one hand and put the other on Ty's head both to steady my wobbly legs and to hold his head still so I could pump out more of the juice.
"Shit man, I knew it would be big, but I got morena little of your cum up the inside of my nose." He smiled at me and went back to his patch.
I fell to my knees and let the wave of cum fatigue wash over me.
Since then I have just been pulling shit out of the dirt. I have been content and don't notice that I actually have to piss. For almost two weeks I just pissed where I was and didn't give it a though. Now that I am a man again, the normal body training just came back on its own without me having to think about it. I pissed outside the shack this morning with the others, but I was still a bit groggy. So since this is the first one I can actually savor and enjoy I will consider it my first of my new status.
"Man didn't I tell you not to piss in here?"
"What?"
I hear some trudging through my patch. Stephen grabs me by my collar and drags me out of the patch still pissing down my legs, it happens too fast for me to stop the flow. I struggle to keep up with him because he is cutting off my wind. He drops in the middle of the clear row between my patch and the next one. He quickly attaches my collar to the middle ring on this concrete slab and my wrists in the ones on either side of it. He does it all so fast I don't have time really to register it and the last of the piss in my bladder leaks out under me.
"Never piss or cum or leak any of your slave fluids on the crops faggot, and if you ever shit in there, you go back to the honeyroom until hell freezes over." Stephen screams. I don't even have time to yell Sir before he starts whipping my ass with a flogger. Tears and snot start flowing. I thought the crops on my back were bad, he must be swinging with full motion and holding nothing back. Each stroke sends fire all from shoulders to knees no matter where he lands the lashes.
He finally finishes. He spits a huge loogie onto the back of my head and walks off with no word when I will be let up. I hear his boots coming back. He says: "A'ite you animal, piss on his back."
"Sir yes sir." It is Ty. His heavy stream hits my back. It stings as much as it stinks. Everything about this little man is smelly. My mind begins to go numb, I start to recognize I am falling back into the mindspace I made as a honeyboy. The pain and the humiliation begin to fade very quickly.
I wake up when I feel a stream of piss on my head and the side of my face pointing upward. I can't open my eyes to see who is doing it, I have to keep them clinched real tight against the force of the piss. "Never, ever let your slave piss or anything else fall in your patch again you fucker." Stephen says then walks off.
I lay there for a few minutes before I hear someone padding feet moving to me.
"I'm sorry man, he ordered me to."
"I know Ty, don't sweat it." My voice sounds really weird to me bouncing up off the hard, hot ground. "When is he going to let me up?"
"Dunno man, don't have a watch. He usually gets back before you get too sunburned though." He says, then: "I got to get back or I'll get worse than what you just got." He pads off in a hurry.
It is really hard to find a comfortable position when your head is on concrete and your body is laying on hard hot ground. I try to wiggle to get part of my chest and stomach to get some relief from the heat, but then my other bones press really hard into my skin, so I wiggle back and cause the pain on the other side. It doesn't take long for me to be bruised on both sides and still hot as hell. That plus my back feels like it is being fried. No lesson here is easy. I have no idea how much longer I will be able to take this. My head is saying it is time to go and so is most of my body. My asshole though and my cock are saying something very different. My hole is itching for a thick cock like Ty's to fill it and my cock is so hard right now against the hard clay that if I move my hips to hump the dirt for less than a minute I would blow another huge load.
I have no idea how long it is since he pissed on me, but Stephen comes back. "You understand why you were punished slave?"
"Sir yes sir."
"Ok then tell me."
"Sir I pissed in the patch and that is forbidden sir, I will not do it again sir."
He bends down and unhooks my collar and cuffs from the steel eyelets in the concrete. "Back to your patch NOW slave."
"Sir yes sir," I say and bolt back.
Hitching
"Man, I was too tired last night to enjoy your cock. Can you fuck me again?" I whisper to Ty when I see him pass near by.
"Now man?"
"Hell yes, my asshole is begging for you to fuck it again."
"You was hot, but if we get caught . . . . Nah man it ain't worth it, we can just do it again tonight."
"I was too tired last night to enjoy it, c'mon please man, please?"
"I dunno man . . ."
"C'mon man, please, your cock is the thickest I've seen here man, I crave it."
"Ok, but you better not make a sound. I don't know what the punishment is for fuckin' in here, never seen nobody get caught."
I take the doggie position and he spits on my asshole. He gently puts the head of his thick meat past my asshole. Then he starts thrusting. He may be stupid as hell, but he knows how to fuck. He knows how to go slow, knows how to aim his thrusts downward some so that the head of his massive meat hits my swollen prostate. I squirt a little shot of prejiz each time he hits my prostate.
"I can't fucking believe it. I would have figured the diaper treatment would have kept you in line the rest of your life you stupid animal." Stephen grabs both of our collars and cuts off my wind as he pushes us to the ground. He orders us to sit back to back. I have nowhere to run and know what is going to follow is going to be horrible, but I have no choice, all I can do is sit down. He chained the back or our collars together with I guess a single link because our heads were tight together and the collar was still pulling back. Then he bound my hands together by one link of chain. I guess he did the same to Ty because he ordered our hands up and bound my cuffs to Ty's. We bring our hands down so that they sort of touch our heads. Stephen stomps off. I feel him shaking and our sweat is mixing, heat sweat, but mainly fear sweat.
"Oh shit man, I knew I shouldn't a done that." Ty actually sounds nervous. "I barely made it through the diaper thing, I ain't going to make it if I have to do that again."
"Fuck, I don't think I even want to know what that is." I sound more resigned than anything else at this point.
"Believe me, you don't, but if you're gonna get it, then you will know soon enough."
Stephen comes back in a few minutes, just as my hands start to go to sleep. He orders us to stand and laughs at us as we fall several times. It is very difficult to push against someone's back and stand when they are shorter than you. I have to keep my knees bent when we are finally, after about half a dozen falls, to get upright. He orders another slave I cannot see because I can barely keep my balance to bind one of my leg cuffs to one of Ty's. Then Stephen unhooks our neck collars and unhooks my wrists from Ty's.
"Time for a hitching, fuckups," Stephen says as he attaches a length of chain to each of our collars so he can lead.
"What's a hitching?" I whisper to Ty as we Stephen leads us from the corn.
"Dunno, ain't never seen one." He whispers back as we begin to jog toward the building that houses the chow.
He stops us at what looks like two pretty wide door frames set about 6 feet apart. I must have passed them before because they are where they hand out the chow, but I don't remember seeing them. I can already guess I am going to be bound to it in some way.
Stephen has the slave unhook our leg chain. Stephen takes me and binds my hands to a hook on a chain hanging from the middle of the freestanding doorframe thing. The slave does the same to Ty.
"Get the blocks, then when you drop them off go get the rocks slave." Stephen orders, and the slave says his sir yes sir and disappears.
Stephen goes inside and comes back before I have a chance to ask Ty anything-Ty looks a little like he is trying to sleep. I can't believe it.
Stephen takes a ball chute and attaches it to my ball sac, then roughly does the same to Ty. When he finishes Ty's, the slave returns carrying what is obviously very heavy concrete blocks, one on each shoulder. He drops one near Ty and the next near me. I can already see what's coming and don't have any way of preparing. I start panting.
"Don't worry lot, you won't know which part to hate most when it's over, but you won't be fucking in the patch anymore when you get down."
The slave quickly returns with an arm load of stones, he drops two in front of Ty and two in front of me. Stephen puts a spanner between my two ankle cuffs which force my feet about 4 feet apart and does the same to Ty, but his spanner seems to be a little smaller since his legs aren't as long. He orders the slave to put the blocks between our feet, just in front of the spanner bar. I don't have to look to know that there is an eyelet or something in the block so a chain can go from it to the ball chute.
Stephen starts with me. He lowers another chain from the middle of the frame and attaches it to my collar in the back and unhooks my wrists so my arms fall to my sides. Then the chain from the chute to the block. He pulls down forcing me to go into a squat stance until he can hook the chain to the block. Then he does something I don't expect at all. He ratchets up the chain on my collar until I the collar is almost cutting off my wind. Then he takes it just a notch higher so that I have to strain up against the weight at my balls to breath.
The pain starts right away in my knees. I struggle to move them just a little up so I can breath freely and move them down do my balls don't feel like they are being ripped off. The pain in my gut starts next because when I stand up too far to get my breath, the pain in my lower gut is like I have been kicked there by a horse. I know he is doing the same thing to Ty but I can't really focus beyond my feet since my head is forced downward by the chain and collar.
Stephen says, "Hold out your arms to your sides palms up." I comply and he places one of the two stones in each hand. "Keep your arms parallel to the ground, if you fall past parallel, I will remind you with a whip where your arms need to be." I hear him say the same thing to Ty whose grunting is also very audible. "You fucks will stay like this until the slave dinner rush is over so they all get a chance to see you. Oh I almost forgot." He clips a placard to my collar. It says 'I fucked instead of working and all I got was this lousy hitching.'
Every joint hurts. I do everything I can to keep my arms straight, but I fail early. The lashes come wherever Stephen wants and I immediately put the arms back straight. They hurt so much I can no longer really tell what position they are in, I can only assume them to be straight if I am not feeling the whip. I barely notice as slave feet go padding by in each direction. I know some pause to watch me drool and get whipped and strain against the weight at my balls and the leather cutting off my wind. I don't know if they are laughing at me or pitying me or anything, I can't really care because it feels like I am just fighting to stay alive right now.
After dozens of lashes and what seems like half a life time, the rocks are removed from my hands, the chain from my balls and the chain from my neck. I collapse into the dirt. I pull my knees to my chest as if I had been kicked hard in the balls. I have almost no control over my arms as my shoulders seem to have become paralyzed.
I want to say the word Buck gave me. I want to scream it so that I can get away from this pain and punishment. But I can't remember it. I know I could remember it after I left the honeyroom, but I can't remember it now. What good is an escape word if I can't remember it when I need to escape?
What Rex Learned
What a fucked up world I got pulled into.
Over the past several nights I've been able to get information from Crete about his life and what I might be able to expect. What I have learned has left me with a stone in my stomach. When you no longer fear for your life, more and diverse fears can move in since the big one has abandoned center stage. It is total fallacy to think that if you know death is not imminent that no other fear is relevant.
When Noah and Scott lock us in our cages at night, we are both exhausted, but I have used the few minutes before he slumps to sleep to find out about my new (and only) friend.
He told me that there is a ranch in Texas where he was one of more than a hundred slaves all living there by choice. He has to be lying. I know I am sitting in a steel cage, naked, collared, sore from forced labor and lashes from a whip, but I cannot accept the notion that such a place exists. Anyway, he told me about life there and how he got tired of the way things worked there, that he sought more brutality so he let them auction him off. It strains believability. I'm not so naïve that I am not aware of the BDSM culture, but I always thought it was a weekend thing. I thought that they guys would put on their costumes-collars, chaps, stupid looking leather caps (especially the ones that look like captain's hats that make the couple look like a really dark world version of The Captain and Tennille)-and do their thing until both came then they would go back to their 'normal' lives. I know Noah's type exists because he is the stuff that serial killers are made from it seems, but I really didn't think there were people like Crete around.
He said his first week here with Noah and Scott was so tough that he actually considered running.
"Life on the ranch was really pretty easy. We worked but weren't beaten often unless we just made it a point of making happen. We could fuck basically whenever we wanted. No real worries, no real fears, unless we made them happen or made them up. But I got here and things were very VERY different."
"Master Noah had trouble waking me up no the first morning. The trip up here was long and painful for me and I didn't get any sleep kneeling in the cage with hands bound so I couldn't find a comfortable position, even if there was such a thing in the box. Then they hosed me off and interrogated me before putting me in the cage. I fell asleep real quick. It had to be after midnight when they locked me in the cage, and the sun wasn't up when he was trying to wake me up, so I know I couldn't have been asleep more than four hours or so. I didn't feel him or hear him until the ice water hit me. He threw a bucket of it at my very blue balls. He dragged me from the cage by my hair and threw me on the floor, kicked my knees out from under me and my hands to, all real fast so I was laying flat. He put his boot on my neck hard. He has this strap you haven't seen yet that he whipped me with. It has little circles of sand paper on it, I only found this out after he finished. You know how hard he swings, you know he isn't kidding or pretending or whatever. Anyway, I screamed like I never screamed before, I had never felt anything like it and I've been whipped many times. I was exhausted and still very surprised by my ice water balls so I didn't have time to put myself in any state of composure, even though I doubt I would have been able to do that even if I had had a weeks worth of sleep. It seems that screams do nothing to Master Noah. I was literally screaming myself silent and he didn't change anything, he didn't whip me harder, didn't let up. He has something in mind and will not stop or adjust anything until he gets it.
"I stopped counting lashes a long time ago unless the master orders me to count it out loud, so I have no idea how many licks I took. I know I was bleeding a bit from middle back to the tops of my thighs. I think the reason you haven't gotten whipped with that beast yet is that you are so new, I think he figured I needed something with more kick since I have already felt the lash many times."
Apparently things got worse from there. He was given no time to recover. He had to start laboring right away. He was doing what I'm doing now: hauling supplies from Scott's truck from the truck to the building site. They purposely park the truck at the edge of the property so that we have to walk about a hundred and fifty yards each way, even though they could put the truck right next to the site. He said he had to haul two bags of concrete at a time until well after the sun was up when they allowed him to eat.
"When they let me eat, I finally had time to think about what had happened. I knew I wanted to be a one on one slave with a really tough master, but I had never really thought it all the way through I guess. I ate and sort of half cried because I didn't think I would make it through the day, let alone any more days after it. He whipped me back into action and I went back at it. It was about noon when I collapsed. Master Scott came over and pissed in my face. I was too exhausted to do anything-not open my mouth, not move to avoid the stream or anything. He screamed back to Master Noah that I wasn't worth what he paid for me and wandered off."
At that point he said that Noah returned and quietly talked to him. He didn't threaten to kill him or anything like that. He simply reminded Crete how much he had paid for him and that he would only be let go-if that is what he still wanted-when he had worked off the money. I won't believe for a second that he cost eighty grand.
"Master Noah said that he couldn't take it totally easy on me, but that he could let the rest of that day go easier, but that all of the next day would be very heavy labor, but that I could avoid the lash if I woke up right and worked hard enough for him."
The rest of that day went fairly well for him he said. He said that he had dropped some of the bags of concrete and thought he would take a thrashing-we both get thrashed now when it happens-but that Noah just waited patiently for Crete to pick them up and move on.
I still don't know what to make of Noah's rare but deep shows of . . . compassion? . . . no . . . pity . . . maybe . . . kindness . . . no way what he shows is kindness . . . concern . . . that's the closest I can come to it. Maybe he means it to keep us on our toes, if he does that then we will not always be able to predict what comes next. Or maybe it means he has a heart somewhere in his chest.
"That night Master Noah ordered me in his hot tub. He said the only way I would be able to even walk the next day was if I soaked in the heat. 'I'd do the same for a decent mule.' I almost fell asleep in it, but he dragged me out and caged me like what became normal."
The next day was still hard, but he sort of knew what to expect. He got started and carried the stuff like I have seen him, like I have done. He had to jog back to the truck just like I do now and come back with as much as he could carry and a little more. He said that Noah ran along side him and kept the riding crop where Crete could see it as he carried the load back. Noah would let the crop do most of the talking.
"Master Noah said, 'You've been trained enough that I don't need to waste much breath telling you what you did wrong, the whip will speak for me, you'll know what to do.' It didn't take long for me to figure it out, I will tell you that. Most men think that the lash does most of the work when it comes to pain, but they have no idea. Most of the time I felt a crop, it was barely a sting, his was a full on cutting heat. I knew from the first day he wasn't fucking around, but from the second day, when I had some time to think about it, I knew he was the kind of master I wanted. All I needed to do was work harder and be the slave I know I can be."
Amazing. Proud of being a slave. Proud of being able to take a lash and lift more stuff and take more cock. Right now I am proud to be alive and all in one piece.
"By the fourth day, I worshiped him. By the fourth day he laid the crop on me only twice. This was as bad as it was good, but I have learned-and this is something I need to pass on to you. The day after that I could do no right for him. I did the same thing on the next day but he whipped me and screamed at me and totally humbled me and made me a sniveling lump. What I learned is that you should always take a few lashes in a day, always fuck up a little, because if you get too good or too fast or something, you will pay the next day."
Unfuckingbelievable.
Tonight I have to ask him a couple of things. It was a very tough day. It rained all day, but that meant we had to make sure all the concrete bags were in the shed-running with those things was not easy and I took more than one beating for falling. At this point we still aren't quite ready to start building Scott's house, we are still moving the stuff so we can pour the foundation. So there wasn't much to do. So they had us digging a hole in the mud for hours. We are now locked in our cages totally covered in mud.
"I'm really worried man."
"Why." Crete yawns, I have to be fast.
"How can you eat shit guy? I'm fucking worried they're going to make me do that soon."
"They probably will, honestly I'm surprised you haven't yet."
"Fuck." I almost start crying.
"It doesn't really have that much of a taste. It's gross, but it beats taking the whipping they are going to give you if you don't."
"Man I can't do it, no fucking way."
"They won't kill you, I promise you that. But I saw your back and ass after Master Noah taught you your name. You know he will do at least that until you comply. You won't start with theirs anyway."
"Yours?" I live next to him. We are in cages we can't get out of when we have to go and they do it on purpose, so we have to shit in here. His shit is awful. I wore it and I live next to it, I couldn't possibly eat it.
"Maybe." Yawn. "Maybe your own. Look man, I need to go to sleep, don't worry about it, you'll live, it won't kill you." And he turns over and goes to sleep.
Mutherfucker. I am covered in mud, I sleep next to a man who wants to be in his position. I can't think of any way to get out of this. I hate myself for getting used to it sort of. I get up each morning and know what to expect and can generally perform it. But I know more is coming. I have been here for 10 days I think. I have no real way to count and we don't get any days off so far. It could be more or less. So far I have not had to drink anything but water and eat anything but the chow Scott puts in the dog bowl in front of me. And my asshole is still exit only. But now I have to be concerned that what comes out of it will go in the other end. I worry that eating shit won't be the worst thing they make me do. I would hate to know what is worse than that.
Can You Rape a Slave?
Now I am kneeling in the same frame I was in when I sucked Scott's cock. I have another cock in my mouth, but it is totally different this time.
Take it back about five minutes. The storm got so bad we couldn't do anything outside-there is far too much metal around out there for the sort of lightening in the area. So we stayed inside. During breakfast, I saw and heard Scott and Noah chatting in the corner of the dungeon. We continued to eat and Scott moved the kneeling frame they put me on to suck their cocks. I was wishing I was digging a useless hole in the mud.
"Rex on the frame."
"Sir yes sir." The only thing I could think was that it would be impossible to do much shit eating in the position the frame keeps you. Scott buckles my calves to the back side and my forearms to the front end and a belt to keep my lower torso on the cross beam. Oh well, someone was going to get to cum.
"Crete get hard."
"Sir yes sir."
What did he do to get that sort of reward. He got hard without touching his cock-he hadn't been ordered to do that. That was a lesson my ass still felt.
"Stick it up Rex's ass. Hold it there, do not fuck him, just stick it as deep in his ass as you can."
"Sir yes sir."
I couldn't speak or even make a noise. I knew that anything I said or did at this point would mean pain from a whip of some kind and I would still have to take his cock up my ass. That much I have learned, especially when bound in a way where I can move nothing but my jaw.
"Sir may I use spit to lube my cock sir?" I only hear this because Crete is positioned to follow his orders.
"Sure." Noah said.
I heard nothing after this. I felt him put one hand on my left hip then put the head of his cock against my asshole. I took a deep breath, like I did when I gave blood before the needle was inserted. He pushed and I tried not to fight. The head broke the anal barrier and I could see stars with my eyes open. I am gay, I know this and I have craved getting fucked, but I have always been afraid of it. Now a man with a pretty big cock was putting it up my ass and I could do nothing to stop it.
"Sir permission to advise Rex sir."
What?
"What boy?"
"Sir he is real tight, please sir he has never done this before sir?"
"Let's see how far your sympathy runs." Noah said, there was a tone in his voice I have learned to despise and fear totally. "Will you take his lashes for the day if I let you advise him?"
"Sir I will sir."
"Tell him whatever you think he needs to know then stupid fucker."
"Sir yes sir." He bent forward and basically whispered. "Can you push against my cock like you are taking a shit?" I not my head. "Don't do it hard, just push a little bit." I was nervous but the pain was going away pretty fast, and he was brave or dumb enough to take my whippings today, so I did what he said. I pushed. His cock began to slide in. It felt both awful and wonderful. My muscles didn't want it, my cock and heard did. I pushed a little more and it slid in a bit easier and further. I moaned. "See it isn't so bad is it?" What felt like a few more feet of his cock and he said, "Sir all in sir."
Noah said. "Feel anything slave?"
"Sir no sir."
"Pull out and let's see." Noah walked around where I couldn't see him. The cock coming out was not much easier than it going back in.
"Push just a little, and when I say, pinch just a little." Pause while his cock slid back. "Pinch now." I pinched and his cockhead slipped out quickly. It felt fantastic. I wanted more.
"Yep he seems pretty clean. Now go around front."
"Sir yes sir."
"Rex, a slave must clean all cocks that have been up its ass."
"Uh, sir yes sir."
"It isn't anything like you think, just take it in and move your tongue around, you will find it has basically no taste, there isn't anything on it," Crete whispered to me.
Now the cock that has been up my ass, that popped my cherry even if it didn't squirt up it, is now in my mouth. He's right, it doesn't really have a taste. It is a little slimy but I can't tell if it is from his spit mainly or my ass juices, if there is such a thing.
"That's enough."
"Sir yes sir." Crete's cock leaves my mouth with a pop.
"Rex, it's past time for your master to take your ass, to mark you as his." Scott says to me, oddly tenderly.
"Sir yes sir." I know it will hurt, but it won't hurt long and I do want a cock up my ass. Scott is an attractive man, I was willing to leave the bar with him where we met and was willing at that time to let him take me. The circumstances are different. Now I am inside instead of hauling lumber and building supplies. Now I am going to get something I want even if it isn't in a way I wanted it.
Scott does what Crete did. He put one hand on a hip and guides his cock past my anus. Once he is sure the cockhead is safely in, he starts pounding. I yelp from the cramping pain that starts. It feels like a fist is squeezing my insides. I yelp with every thrust forward. I push as hard as I can against his cock. It almost immediately starts hurting less.
"Fuck boy, you may be a natural." Scott says.
He starts bucking faster. At this point the cramping is almost gone and the fire at my asshole is a tickle I want to keep going and want to stop. I can't describe it any other way than that. I heard about men and their love buttons before, but it meant nothing until now. Scott finds my prostate and hits it with his large cockhead. My already hard cock feels like it is going to pop open like a cooked hotdog. My heart races.
I hear him grunting as he fucks me and my grunts are in time with his. I know there are two men watching me but I don't give a shit. My asshole wants this to go on forever, my piss slit and balls want it to stop long enough for them to get their turn. This is what I have wanted for years, I almost don't regret that it happens with me wearing a slave collar and fairly fresh lash marks on my ass.
He moans as he cums. Each thrust is lightening quick in, kind of slow out, the lightening quick in. He leaves it in for a couple of seconds and I can feel it sort of spasm on its own.
"Pinch your hole tight boy while I pull out."
"Sir yes sir." It is an amazing feeling for 9 inches of cock to come out of an asshole that is trying to keep it in. The tickle is amazing. He comes around front and points the head of his mostly hard cock at my lips. I open my mouth and take in the drippy slab. My almost tasteless ass juices are mixed with his salty cum. I suck on it as eagerly as I want it back up my ass. I think that if I can make it hard again, he will fuck me again.
"Noah, he definitely deserves his reward." Scott says as he casually pulls his cock out of my mouth and turns away.
"Crete, unbuckle him." Master Noah says.
"Sir yes sir." He unbuckles me and helps me stand up.
"Suck him off." Master Noah says, and he and Master Scott move in to watch.
"Sir yes sir."
Crete kisses the tip of my very stiff cock. He knows I am about to blow at the slightest breeze, but wants me to enjoy it. He does it as slowly as he can and still avoid punishment. When he finally gets my cock all the way into his mouth, I cannot wait any longer. I grab his head with my hands and thrust until I start squirting. I pull out when that happens. I squirt everywhere, his chest, face, hair, my own chest. The Masters laugh and so does Crete. My knees start wobbling and I back up until I get the wall to support me.
"Not bad for a holiday is it boy?" Master Scott says to me.
"Sir no sir."
"Good boy, now lick up all that cum."
Portions of this story are dedicated to Tommy S. Thanks for the suggestion.