(m/m, m/t, forced, slavery, nc, oral, anal)
This story is (c) Copyright 2007, by MickMack. All World Wide Rights Reserved.
The story below is the epic tale of a totally fictional event. Your feedback would be greatly appreciated. It is gay erotica and is intended to be read by persons who are 18 years of age or older, and by persons that enjoy gay erotica.
The material covered in this story and all other accompanying parts of this story are fictional. Any similarities to persons living or dead are pure coincidence.
Please Note: To those who like reading my material, I apologise for taking so much time in getting this story written and posted. It is a bit off the usual subject matter I play around with, but hopefully you'll enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Please send your comments to: mickmack999@yahoo.com.au
The Reluctant Slave
The Life and Times of Brad Cahill - Pleasure Slave
6.2 Brad Cahill -- Catch 22
(Extracts From the Recently Discovered Writings by Brad Cahill -- Pleasure Slave)
I no longer know how much of the young proud masculine Brad is still left in me anymore.
That huge part of my personality now seems to be missing. Where I vaguely remember I was once a fearless excitable young free citizen teenager, thrilled about the world and my future. I kind of feel at times that this glorious character trait I once had, no longer exists at all in me now, and the queer slave girl Master Noel has commanded me to become has finally taken over my entire personally.
Sometimes I wonder if I miss the old Brad, the young handsome macho 18 year old teenage football star, who took no bullshit from anyone as he looked forward to a very bright future in professional football.
But I know that's all gone now. I can't pine for what I used to be. I can still remember vaguely how I was once free, and then enslaved to Master Noel. How somehow Master Evan had freed me for a very short time afterwards before I'd allowed myself to be enslaved once again.
Again, I mustn't dwell on those thoughts, and I should be very happy that I am now a highly valued male pleasure slave, and will always be used as a sex slave until I eventually lose my handsome looks to old age.
In this life, where being a sex slave means I don't have any choices whatsoever but to please my master and be exactly what he wants me to be, I know the old rebellious, carefree Brad has been utterly defeated, beaten out of me, and what is left is an empty shell where the former proud youth I used to be once resided.
Oh, my muscular strong 18 year old teenage body is still the same, and my face is still considered extremely youthful and boyishly handsome.
And as I attend to Master Noel's every sexual needs and desires, I obediently grovel and cower, and act exactly like the little faggot-girl he demands I be.
Sometimes as he uses me, and he's looking deep into my eyes, he'll start slapping me real hard, snarling into my startled frightened face.
"I can still see you! Staring out at me defiantly! But don't worry cunt, you won't be in there much longer! Just you wait!" he'd grate through his clenched teeth, and then savagely beat me up as he continues to fuck me as hard as he can. Most times I don't know what Master Noel is ranting on about, but sometimes I feel something in my mind shift, and I do wonder if it's the old Brad in there.
Anyway, they say once a slave has been enslaved and he finally lets go of his past and learns to accept his future, the slave will achieve a euphoric feeling of freedom that no free citizen can ever possibly hope to achieve.
Maybe they're right!
Even now, six months later, as the dawn breaks signaling another beautiful morning rising on the eastern horizon, and I kneel on my hands and knees between Master Noel's parted legs, I silently give thanks to Master Noel for showing me what a good little girl I am and how it is important to show my gratitude at all times to him.
With his thick semi-hard penis lodged in my mouth, and looking up into his yawning face while he sits perched on the side of his bed rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, I once again praise him in my mind, thanking him for selecting me to be his little faggot-girl, and I can feel my tight little vagina twitching in anticipation for when he decides to fuck me later.
Then when I hear Master Noel sigh softly as he relaxes completely, the warning sign he is about to release his bladder and I should seal my lips tightly around his thick uncut penis so no urine can escape, I look into his handsome adorable face, willing him eagerly to hurry up and bless me with his morning pee.
As the first squirting drops of his bitterly pungent urine trickling onto my tongue turns into a powerful gushing torrent spraying the back of my throat to instantly fill my mouth, I quickly swallow and gulp down all of Master Noel's morning glory piss. Immediately I feel my eyes tearing up with pure joy and happiness as I service my Master's early morning toilet needs, and thank God I am his one and only little faggot-girl pleasure slave.
Sucking the last droplets of piss from out of his long thick tube, and then using my long pointed tongue to lick under his foreskin to clean it out, I keep my twinkling blue eyes focused on Master Noel's contented face. I remember I must at all times be completely docile, and cower before him so he is happy with my absolute obedience to him.
Then, having just swallowed every drop of Master Noel's urine, I immediately obey him when he orders me to lie on my back next to him and spread my legs as wide as I can so he can look down at my total submission to him.
And like every other morning since he rescued me, I am wearing the skimpy pair of frilly girl's crotchless knickers he has bought me. They have been pulled down off my hips and are stretched out thinly between my widely parted ankles.
Master Noel's hand gently caresses my inner thighs, enjoying the feel of the tight silk stockings he makes me wear, and sometimes in the mornings, when he is in a happy and generous mood, he'll flick the elastic band of the garter belt and suspenders holding up my stockings.
As always, I wear the high heels he has brought me, as he likes the look of them as he orders me to sashay around the room we are staying in, or feel them bouncing about on his back when he is fucking me with my legs over his shoulders.
Again I listen intently as he begins to remind me I am his little faggot-girl, and that I must act and behave like a proper little queer girl for his pleasure, and his pleasure only.
And as he speaks to me, and I actually feel him stripping the last vestiges of any manhood and masculinity he may see in me, referring to me as his personal homosexual sex slave, as his little faggot-girlie, and I know he is only doing this for my own good.
I know what he doing is very good for me, as Master Noel has always told me ever since he came up to New Holland and brought me back with him that he is the only one who can truly look after my faggot and queer homo needs.
That he is the only one who can love me with the proper discipline to make me respond to his ever-increasing lustful desires.
As he reaches between my legs and fondles with my large hairless balls, squeezing them gently and patting and slapping them about, I listen obediently as he refers to them as my little girl's ovaries, regardless of their large walnut size. And when he runs his fingers and fisted hand up and down my very thick erect penis, I eagerly smile and agree with him when he calls this my little clitoris, just part of my sweet little adorable girly parts.
And as he roughly slides three fingers up my anus, and the muscles inside my anal passage gently squeeze and suck on his thrusting fingers, I simper and giggle like a naughty little pubescent girl as he makes me tell him how nice it is to have him finger-fuck my sloppy vagina or loose girl pussy.
Yes, I lie there giggling like a little girl for him, lisping out loud in a girlish voice, acting out the role he wants me to play. And every time he does this, I can feel his growing love for me swelling up inside him as I quickly start passionately kissing and licking his hairy body all over.
But when he pushes me onto my back and lies down on top of me, placing my silk stocking-covered legs over his shoulders, and I once again reach down and gently take his rock-hard leaking erection in my hand to guide him into my faggot-girl vagina, I know I love him with all my being, that I will do anything to make him proud of me.
Then as he stares down into my timid smiling face and my body starts responding enthusiastically to his rapid cock thrusting pace as he drives himself all the way in and out of me, I thank him for being a real man. I thank him with all my heart for teaching me what my real nature is, and how important it is for me to act like a faggot, a real queer girl for his personal pleasures at all times.
I can't help it when my butt cheeks spread even further apart for him, pushing up frantically to get as much of his raging thrusting cock all the way further up into me. Willingly I open myself up to him, my body vibrating and pulsing, my girl-pussy sucking tightly on his rigid penis, caressing and massaging it every time he plunges deep inside me.
And between our bodies, my fully erect clitty aches for release, begging to be touched and jerked, leaking huge amounts of pre-cum onto my flat stomach, demanding attention that will let my fully charged ovaries explode and empty. And the feel of his hot hairy masculine body against my smooth hairless girl's body drives me into a heightened aroused state that nearly knocks me unconscious.
He taunts me again, reminding me of the first time he'd taken me in front of his two best friends, how he had made me squirt my girly juices twice as he'd fucked me hard, and how no real man, especially a supposed tough young teenage sports stud like I used to be, could ever claim to be straight if I'd cum while being fucked up my eagerly hungry vagina.
And as he slams up into me, he continues to remind me I am nothing but his little sex toy, a naughty little girlie-boy born to be fucked, and that I must have always been a queer, a faggot. Just look at my clitty, he says.
See how much girly juices I'm leaking, and then he demands that I admit I love being fucked up my pussy like a real homo. Immediately I smile back up into his lust filled face and tell him I will always be his faggot, his homo, his queer-girl, and that I love the feel of his large erect penis sliding in and out of my vagina.
Again, I can feel and sense a little bit more of my original self vanishing as he continues to berate that part of me that used to be Brad. I know Brad is finally lost forever and Master Noel's new little fuck-girl has taken over completely and will submit to whatever Master Noel wants her to do.
Once more he increases his fuck-pace, growling into my simpering smiling face now, reminding me to move my lipstick-coated lips up and start kissing him passionately all over his muscular manly shoulders, upper chest and neck.
And as I respond, obeying him willingly, completely, licking and kissing his hairy upper torso as he pounds away, I keep my twinkling blue eyes open and stare into his loving vicious ginning face.
- Evan Morgan -- A Reversal of Fortunes
(From the Private Diary of Evan Morgan)
Not many people will forgive me for what I did to my own brother. Not my parents, not Noel's friends, not Brad, and not Noel himself.
In fact, as I look at myself in the mirror, sometimes I wonder if I'll ever truly forgive myself, wondering what really drove me to act in such a despicable way. Was it because I had had enough, that I wanted it to end here and now? That if I didn't do what I'd done, Noel would have continued to come after us, making all our lives a living hell!
Or was it because I truly thought Noel deserved to be punished for the horrible things he'd done to so many innocent people?
Or maybe it was because I was so insanely jealous of Noel, of his hold over Brad, and how Brad rushed in to try and defend my brother, declaring his undying love and loyalty to him.
In a way, all the above are the reasons for why I finally set in motion a plan to trap my older brother and have Noel enslaved for life.
On the evening of our escape, when I lay in my bed feeling safe and secure for the first time in a long time, I would never have dreamed I would choose the path I eventually took in wanting to finally destroy my own family and my brother once and for all.
To have Sean and Jason race into my new bedroom at the Le Grand Hotel where we'd literally just booked in that evening, and to tell me Brad had been abducted right outside the front of our executive suite doors, filled me with a panic that nearly drove me hysterical.
It should have been the happiest night of all our lives, where Brad, Sean and Justin were re-united with their parents, where August was re-united with his mother and little sister, and where Monet and I watched with tears in our eyes as they came together.
And the moment Sean and Justin came bursting into my room, sobbing out what had just happened I knew it was Noel and that he was behind this.
At first I thought it would be easy to track down Noel, and once I knew where he was, then I would work out a way to get Brad back.
But it wasn't so simple at all.
On the first night he'd been snatched, while trying to calm the boys and their parents, I was able to discover from the concierge that a large bear-like man in an old duffle overcoat was seen lugging a large bundle out the front door of the Le Grand Hotel.
Immediately I called security for the hotel, and demanded to know why they hadn't done anything about it. When they admitted they had seen the man on their monitors but not moved to query him as to why he was on the premises, I exploded.
That's when I instantly realised most of them had been bribed to turn the other way. None of them cared and they literally smirked in my face when I demanded an explanation. Of course, within the hour, none of them were smirking anymore as I watched them walk out of the hotel carrying their severance pays.
Then I called in a high-priced lawyer, and when he arrived I authorized him to commence proceedings to sue the contracted security firm for a sum of money that would see them put out of business within the week.
But what needed to be done next? Time to me was passing too quickly, and every moment meant the man was getting a bigger head-start on us.
With the assistance of the lawyer, I was able to secure the employ of a creditable well-known private investigator, as well as a private security firm that specialised in contracts such as this. I needed them all to track down the man, find out where my brother was, and work out a way to get Brad back.
Also, I needed full-time security and body guards for every one of Brad's family, for Monet and for August and his family. I couldn't afford to think what would happen if either of Brad's brothers suddenly disappeared and how this would affect his already distraught parents.
By the end of the first week, few leads had been discovered, so it was agreed that the man was definitely a professional under the employ of my brother Noel. Also, it appeared Noel had dropped out of sight. There were no leads whatsoever, and no-one could guarantee me when they could get Brad back.
By the end of the second week, we were all feeling lost and frustrated. I concurred with my security people that it was very unlikely the man, Noel or Brad was still in the state of New Holland.
That was when I launched a class action lawsuit against my own brother and his accomplices, claiming Noel Morgan was responsible for the illegal and improper enslavement of the entire Cahill family, as well as for the Mathers family, which were August's mother and little sister.
Sweet August immediately made arrangements to have his family moved to an island resort, which was surrounded by security, before coming back to me and declaring he would stay with me until we found Brad.
Sean and Justin wanted to do the same thing with their parents. But they quite eloquently argued that there was no way they were going to sit this out, especially considering this was their eldest son who would need their support as soon as we found him.
Monet was just Monet. He was the emotional and rational anchor of our small group. He kept us sane and kept our spirits up at all times. Never once did he cave in to the lowest depths of depression that I sometimes found myself floundering in.
Of course, my lawsuit immediately brought out the national media, who instantly began reporting it as a protest movement against slavery. At the urgent advice giving to me by my growing team of lawyers, I immediately hired on a public relations firm. I needed this whole situation to be seen for what it was, and that was my brother's illegal actions against innocent people.
And then before I could even scratch myself, there were my father and his team of legal beagles confronting me across a huge oak table in the executive boardroom of the Le Grand Hotel.
He looked devastated that I could even do such a thing as this to my older brother, exclaiming I was ruining the family name by going down this path.
Abruptly I held my hand up, demanding he shut his mouth. Then throwing down copies of all the documents I had gathered over the last six months, as well as three dozen video tapes from Noel's personal library collection I had secreted from his room before I'd left the family estate, I told my father to look at the evidence, and I would speak to him the next day. It was a much more subdued man who faced me the next day. But he still whined and threatened me, demanding to know why I hadn't come to him in the first place. Easier said than done, I'd answered, and should we like always just sweep all this under the carpet as well.
No, I informed my father! There was nothing he could do, and I doubted he had the guts to follow up and punish his eldest son for what he'd done.
So now it was my turn, and it was my full intention to go after every person who had abused Brad, to have them all enslaved, along with all their families, and let them experience firsthand what they'd done to Brad and his family.
I remember watching my father leaving, and although he looked like a shattered man who was seeing his presidential chances fly out the window, I could also see he was impressed by my stubbornness, my determination to see justice finally done.
Two months had flown by, and still no leads were picked up to where Noel and Brad had disappeared to. Immediately I hired another two private detectives as well as another three security agencies.
I now had eyes and ears looking in every state and territory of our nation. I was determined to bring Brad home, and bring Noel to justice.
Of course the ramifications of my class action lawsuits escalated across the country, and before I knew it, anyone who'd been associated with Noel was now subpoenaed to appear before the Supreme Court.
Also, word got back to me that the once much-heralded Regional Slave Induction and Training Facility where Brad and his brothers were first imprisoned had now been closed down due to the suicide of the general manager Mr Kindred, and the enslavement of up to 40 of its senior slave training officers.
This was followed by more news of many suicides across the state, of people who had been in the direct pay of my brother. Even the FITO (the Federal Internal Tax Office) and Slave Enforcement Authority were being investigated in depth, and I would soon here about the suicide of one Mr Jonas Pearson.
But the fact was no-one who was involved in Noel's highly illegal enslavement of the Cahill family could have gotten away or pleaded innocent, mainly because I had all the video evidence.
Noel, to his credit, and to my advantage, had video recorded everything he'd ever done or organised, and everyone involved with him was seen within those recordings.
But still no word came back of where he and Brad could be. As five months flashed by us, I agonised what else I could do to find them.
But it was in the eleventh month that the man known as Grady was finally caught, and in his possession, a video recording of his 48 hours with Brad.
Immediately it was confiscated by the authorities, but I was given a private viewing so I could verify that this was indeed Brad Cahill at the time of his abduction.
But this is where things became really weird for me. In a way, the lewd video recording also told the story of a young man who wasn't abducted, but who had gone of his own free will with the man known as Grady, to a shady hotel room on the outskirts of Morrisett City.
And as the film played, there sat Brad on the edge of single bed, speaking into the camera lens with tears in his eyes as he admitted to following Grady to this filthy one room bed-sitter.
And the reason why? Because Brad knew Noel would never leave him or his family alone if he didn't obey Grady and do what he was told. At least this way, he explained, if he submitted to Noel's will straight away, his family would be free of being harassed or stalked or something far worse.
Then Brad stood up and with trembling hands, lowered his pants and underwear, stepped out of them and holding his large uncircumcised penis up to the camera, began masturbating himself while smiling a sad defeated smile.
Suddenly Grady walked into camera range, and raising his fist, he punched Brad in the face, knocking him onto his back where he proceeded to tear his clothes off his body and then violently rape him in the vilest ways possible.
Immediately I left the viewing room, heart-broken and weeping as I considered my next move. With my team of lawyers on hand, I knew we could get Grady put away for life, because at the time of the video recording, Brad was a free citizen, and it could be proved beyond a reasonable doubt that what was recorded here was nothing more than outright coercion and rape against the victim.
Upon meeting Grady, it took all my strength not to pick up the closer heavy object and slam it across his smirking sneering face. I listened as my lawyers offered him a way to reduce his sentence, and at the federal prosecutor who nodded his head in agreement. All he had to do was give us information that led us straight to Noel and Brad.
Grady immediately tried to haggle, laughing that we had nothing on him.
"I want him enslaved, castrated and sold to the Zasiadko mine pit in the Ukraine. Also include his wife and any children he may have!" I said aloud, watching the smile melt from his face and a scared, panicked look replace it.
"No! You can't! That's not legal!" he spluttered, suddenly outraged that a young punk like me could ever make such decisions like this.
"What you did to my friend Brad wasn't legal either!" I replied softly, and turning towards the prosecutor, I told him to let me know when the jury had made there decision and were ready to sentence Grady.
"It's a foregone conclusion! You'll be convicted, and then I want the most severe punishment possible to be meted out to you and every one of your closest relatives. Like they say, we should always keep it in the family!" I said as I turned away from him and made to leave.
"Wait! Wait! Look, I'll tell you what I know okay? It ain't much, because your brother didn't leave any following contact details! He was too concerned of what you might do! But I know how to find out! If you'll let me keep my balls, and leave my family out of this, I'll help you find him!" he blurted out, desperately.
Turning back around, I nodded my head to one of my lawyers, and then stormed out of the room.
True to his word, Grady led us directly to Noel's doorstep, in a southern state of the country, where he'd stayed low and avoided bringing any attention to himself.
He was now 20 years of age, maybe an inch taller than I'd last seen him, and he was working from home for a small electronics outfit near the city of Fairfax. The house he was renting was a dingy small one bedroom affair, with a tiny kitchenette, toilet and shower room.
To me, twelve months had gone by, and I knew I must have appeared to everyone else as if I was a fanatical zealot on my quest to find Brad. I had grown over a foot and a half, and I had begun to really fill out.
I doubt Noel would have recognised me at first if he'd just seen me in the street, as I'd also altered my appearance a bit as well by dying my hair dark brown with bleached blond streaks which was the fad of the day for people my age.
But it was time to drop in and visit him. I know my heart skipped a beat as I knocked on his door, and when he opened it, I must admit it was me who didn't immediately recognise him.
He appeared to have a permanent five o'clock shadow, his eyes were hollow and he was a lot skinnier than I remembered him to be. Whatever he'd been doing lately, he definitely hadn't been looking after himself. All he was wearing was a filthy stained t-shirt and a pair of very dirty tight jockey briefs.
At first he just stared at me, dumbfounded, and casting wary glances around outside to ensure I was alone, he stepped aside and let me enter.
The room was a pigsty. Maggot infested food was strewn around, left unattended in a thick covering of buzzing flies. The light was pitifully low, and it took a second for my eyes to adjust.
And that's when I finally laid eyes on Brad for the first time since he'd been taken from us, from me. He was on his knees which were wide apart, his arms behind his back, his head lowered with his chin resting on his chest and his groin thrust forward towards me as he maintained a raging rock-hard erection.
I nearly cried as I saw how much weight he'd lost. The fact I could see his ribs through his once muscular chest sent shockwaves through me.
Not taking my eyes off him, I made my way to a short stool where I sat down, before turning my full attention back to Noel.
"Well, you're not looking too good at all, Noel." I said casually. Noel just stared at me, and then ran his hand through his long oily unwashed hair as he tried to think of something to say to me.
"What the fuck do you want? Why are you here, Evan?" he said, his voice full of fear, knowing what I was about to say.
"Noel, I've come to take Brad back to his family. Why else would I be here?" I answered, acting surprised he'd even asked me such a stupid question. Immediately Noel moved over towards Brad as if to protect him, and then I watched in amazement as Brad wrapped his once strong but now thin arms around Noel's waist, hugging him close to him.
They were both shaking, trembling in fear. Even though Noel had seen no-one outside with me, he would have known at that point I wasn't alone. In fact as we were speaking, 10 heavily armed law enforcement officers were now surrounding the house and ready to storm it at my signal. And Brad could sense something was terribly wrong, and was terrified Noel was about to be taken away from him.
"You can't take him! He's mine! Fucking look at him Evan, and see he doesn't want to go! He'll die without me, for fuck sake! You should go now, please, and leave us along, okay? Don't tell anyone we're here, please Evan?" Noel said in a scared blustering hysterical voice, trying to act like the brutish brother he used to be.
But I heard the tone of his voice change into that of a very frightened child, and suddenly he was pleading with me to leave them alone as he slid down and hugged Brad even closer to him.
"Please Evan, please just go and leave us alone." He begged, and for the first time since I could remember, I watched tears run down Noel's face as he started crying.
"I can't do that Noel. Brad's brothers and mother and father miss him so very much, and I can see he's not very well. And Noel, father and mother want to see you too. We only want you both to be safe and sound, Noel." I said softly.
"That's not true Evan! You've come here to separate us! That's why you're here isn't it? You want to destroy what we have together! Well, I won't let you, you fucking cunt! Get the fuck out of my house before I fucking kill you!" Noel screamed at me, suddenly standing up and moving unsteadily towards me.
Instantly I stood up and smashed my fist into his gaunt face, and watching the startled expression on his grimacing frightened face change from surprise to agony as he slumped down on the floor unconscious.
Suddenly Brad wailed, throwing his arms out before himself, and I knew then something was wrong with his eye sight as he frantically felt around blindly, trying to locate where Noel had fallen. Quickly he found him and then leaning over my brother, Brad began howling and sobbing, running his trembling hands over Noel's limp body as he tried to wake him up.
It was too much for me. Standing there, with tears pouring down my face, I shouted out the key word, and before Brad or I knew what was happening, the house was full of armed men checking out every quarter of the small dwelling. Quickly I knelt down next to Brad, who cowered away from me immediately, but I gently wrapped my arms around his thin malnourished naked body and hugged him close to my chest.
And as I watched the pandemonium happening in that small house as the law enforcement officers rolled Noel onto his stomach and cuffed his wrists behind his back, before dragging him out to the police van waiting outside, I wondered what the fuck Noel must have been thinking for them to end up like derelicts on skid row. How could he have done this to Brad? How could he have done this to himself?
Within half an hour, I carefully guided Brad out of there and into a large limousine waiting for us. Brad appeared to be suffering from some sort of eye affliction which had literally blinded him. But I kept him close to me and spoke softly as I guided him slowly into the warm interior of the vehicle that would take us both home.
To Be Continued...
(If you liked the story, please send feedback to mickmack999@yahoo.com.au)