Royal Nightmare - 2 By Cobradelight Fiction for adults B&D, M/M
I knew I couldn't take 2 more months of this. I'd endured 4 weeks of drudgery, snapping to obey orders, rising at dawn, getting no sexual relief except by accident. Come rain or shine I was leaving this hellhole and my ticket was one of the trade ships. Almost all were small private boats whose owners would jump at the chance for instant wealth.
The daily toil was something new but I could get used to that. What I could not handle was the constant public exposure. The teasing had me in a state of breathless anxiety. We worked hard but the real aim was instilling a sense of responsibility and discipline. Sometimes we were used in ways we had never imagined. They fetched me from the laundry room without a word, two muscular guards grabbed an arm each and snarled that I'd better behanve.
A blindfold plunged me into darkness and I was led briskly down the hallway. My heart pounded and my cock throbbed, laced upright to the thick belt. Sounds drifted -- a lawn mower nearby, a laugh at a radio joke, a washing machine. We turned this way and that and once I shook so hard they stopped and a large hand squeezed my rump that still bore a welt from a lick I'd received earlier that day.
"Don't get in any more trouble, your highness. You don't want a thrashing from me." I cringed at the chuckles and jumped when a finger traced a line from my navel to my nipples. I'm sure they were watching closely for my reaction and I did not disappoint as I shook with uncontrollable tremors. I took a sharp breath at a tug to my blond bush.
"Has this been trimmed since you arrived?" I whispered a strangled, "No sir" and his fingertips sank in the curls and lazily scratched . Again I heard the chuckles. "In this case we'll make sure you see the barber today." I bit my lip and breathed in shallow fast gasps. We took off again and I heard a gathering noise as I was told to "step up". Clad in just my work shoes I climbed the stairs and was led out onto what appeared to be some kind of platform. The guard announced that I was here as ordered. Sounds flooded me -- notebook snapped, men whispering, the rustle of papers. The manager spoke evenly.
"We're ready to begin. Hop up on the table, Nikos." I thought I would suffocate, my breathing so constricted by my terror. Where was I? Then I remembered a small room with many chairs I'd seen when dusting one day. My heart jumped and in the darkness I climbed, feeling my muscles come alive as I pulled myself on all fours. A hand on the back of my neck forced my forehead against the desk. My arms circled my head as I knelt trembling, exposed.
"Raise that bottom!" I did so as a bar spread my legs wide, fastened right above the knee. The table whirled and I stopped, not sure which was I was facing. The blindfold was removed and I blinked. I was on some kind of stage under a bright light. Even in the haze I could see rows of trainees watching intently. A finger traced the welt on my backside and I shuddered, unable to stand the light touch. The Manager noted how my spine sunk slightly, defining my back. Someone from the audience asked if I was an athlete and he replied that I played for the national soccer team and added two words -- "personal trainer". My rump was held and my buttocks parted. I cried out in shock and moaned as it was held open for all to see. A fingernail stroked deep, slowly scratching the anus and when my hips bobbed up and down I was rewarded with genial laughter. A hand rubbed my scalp in a friendly manner. They'd given us all "buzzes" when we arrived 2 weeks ago.
My whole body was alive with sensation as he tweaked and pinched and squeezed. He demonstrated the proper method for grading and when he suddenly stopped talking my panicked breathing was loud. My cock was pulled back and snagged behind the spreader bar. It throbbed for the class, trapped in its hardness, pointing down. My rump was again opened and something metallic and very cold entered my anus. I gave a long audible moan as it sunk in slowly, watched by all the students. I was totally exposed yet I could not keep still. The metal sunk in another inch and I groaned with a low "ohhhhhh".
"Making your own little cum lake, prince?" I dripped steadily onto the table, unable to keep quiet or keep still when the thing sunk further, so cold and so deep. I heard talk of an uncommonly healthy man with a magnificent physique and realized they meant me. He tapped the rod with a small hammer creating devilish vibrations along with the wicked coldness. My low moan was again quite audible. The table turned and I was now raised on my knees, the thing pushing deeper. My cock was freed and jumping around as I remained still. My hands were obediently locked behind my head and I pressed my lips as I struggled not to cry.
His hand kept my chin high, heaving and panting. He showed them the grading points for a chest and abs and remarked that perhaps they should add "pecker" to the list. He pulled it sideways and let it fly back. My balls were of course discussed and tugged and my cock emitted a steady small stream of sprem. Mercifully it soon ended and I was returned, the cold metal rod still embedded inside me as I walked. I shed silent tears at the enormity of what I had endured, the openness of my exposure.
The Manager confided in me one day that for a group of spoiled princes nothing worked like nakedness, hardons and corporal punishment. They were cheap, required no pricey technology and had the added benefit of pleasing the captor. Oddly, our knowledge of these only accentuated their effect. Mixing cement or cleaning windows bare ass focused the mind immediately. Our nakedness was nothing, though, compared to sporting a hardon. No man is immune to that overwhelming sense of shame experienced when his cock stands tall before fully-dressed men. It consumes the mind, the fact that is will again be the subject of teasing and comments.
No matter how funny it sounds the reality is a deep mortification. You never get used to the comments, quick squeezes or strokes you must endure from the high-spirited young men. The additive to our food and lack of sexual release kept us on the edge. My head would pound and I would feel the instant heat when 2 or 3 guys would walk over, grinning, planning a new torment. I was defenseless to stop them.
Then there was corporal punishment. What guard or worker has not given a wayward prince a solid pop with his bare hand and turned so that the hand print could be viewed. If it was not sufficient we would be slapped again. They got a special thrill catching us in a misdeed. We'd undergo taunts before being dragged to a guard for certain discipline. I recall the first time I saw this. Prince Reinhardt left all the farm tools in the rain. He was only 3 days from release and tried to explain but the 2 workers were eager to report him to the nearest guard.
The men reveled, urged him onward to face his doom and the muscular prince stood silently, head bowed and prick upright. They told the guard, a strapping young man who sighed and took a long drag on his cigarette. He looked at the prince, asked a question and the poor guy gave a tight nod, his face pure misery. A worker ran off and returned with a wooden paddle. The guard took a last draw and flicked the butt in the air. My heart pounded when the guard took hold of Prince Reinhardt's arm, set his left foot on a concrete block and pulled the prince over his knee. So on a lazy April afternoon in the shade of a huge oak tree this future king got his butt paddled over the knee of a bored guard five years younger. The workers, scruffy shirtless lads, knelt to taunt the poor man as the thunderous licks shattered the calm and the hairy legs began pumping in the air. I could barely think for the loud wallops and tearful protests. When it stopped we took a breath. The prince was raised, weeping and stumbling. He hurried to complete his task with a fiery red bottom that drew much unwanted attention.
New arrivals were common. Philip had just turned 21 and had a reputation as the playboy of Paris, a partygoer with a $300,000 car and 2 penthouse suites. He played soccer and partied -- that was it. His doting mother got fed up with his attitude and sent him to live with his father who decided that drastic action was needed. With his dashing looks and free-spending ways he was surrounded by admirers. His short, sandy hair, honed body (he had a personal trainer), coal black piercing eyes and arrogant smile melted the heart of many a gal. I smiled when I saw him in the hall, hands behind his head, cock hard and face bright red. The guard beside him was using a frayed leather rod, teasing his balls unmercifully as he stood with sturdy widespread legs, gasping and trembling.
Next day I was cleaning windows when he was shoved in the room followed by three angry guards. He saw me and called out, "Nikos, how the fuck you doing man?" Engaging to the end you might say. One of the guards yelled at him and pointed to the long streak of cum on his chest. Philip said he couldn't help it. He tried to turn it into another joke but only received glares. I was ordered to get the "winks". I winced at the thought of undergoing such discipline. I recovered a red package, set it down and walked away. He called me back instantly.
"Time to teach your cousin that this is a serious place -- you do the honors." He was dragged outside to a tree with dangling leather cuffs and instantly secured, hands in the air exposing thick pit hair. I set the package down and saw his face, white with fear. I picked up the first "wink", a little clamp with a small antenna.
"Right nip!" I opened it and let it clamp onto his jutting nip. At least it was not those types with teeth that tore the skin. Philip yelped with each new application - to the skin of his scrotum hung 3, from his nose, ears, armpits. The foreskin was pulled up and over his throbbing erection and clamped together. Another one clamped to the base of his dick. One for each thumb then 3 onto the hair in his crack. I was given a long, thin clip and heard the word "ass hole". He begged but I felt a tinge of satisfaction. Last year he'd deserted me at a country Inn, disappearing with a gal he'd met. It took hours to get back and I was drenched by the cold rain..
When all the winks had been attached and he was groaning and writhing slowly, a guard turned over an hourglass and hit a button. Random shots of electricity began zapping him with small flicks keeping him constantly on edge. It seemed his cock and balls were a program favorite. He jerked and moaned, staring at the hour glass as if his gaze would make the sands run faster. I watched him jump about, trying to toss the winks off.
The last grain of sand fell and he hung, sweating and exhausted. His look turned to horror when the guard walked over and calmly turned the hour glass over. He began twitching and moaning, promising, threatening and pleading. When he was taken down he fell to his knees, shaking with spasms. He was ordered to kiss the boot and he pressed his lips to the tough leather.
"Now crawl, Prince Philip! You're in bed early tonight." The guard swung and delivered a loud pop with his strap. He began scurrying on his hands and knees as another harsh whack boomed. A loud "Oh God" was followed by a smack and a loud sob that faded as he hurried, driven relentlessly by the grunting guard who won applause and shouts from those who watched. These Georgia boys never tired of putting us in our place. All the attention he got didn't mean I was neglected.
They rubbed garlic on my nipples. This not only smelled but created a tingle that I could not satisfy. A thin meat thermometer was forced into my piss slit and tied in place. The vendors were due and all that day the laughing salesmen accompanied by the workers would walk up and check my temperature. Every fucking one of them broke into a big grin as they read the gauge. I was mortified, having to stand as they held my cock and chatted about ordinary things like crops, sports or politics.
One day Stefan, a Swiss prince, and I hung from a tree by our wrists, our feet barely touching the ground. I heard a sharp whistle from behind. Four shirtless workers came into view as one of them popped my bottom. This type made all the alarm bells go off -- their buzz cuts, cigarettes tucked behind ears, lean muscular smooth chests. If that was not enough, their swagger and smug attitudes spoke volumes.
"If it ain't the princes from Slovokia or Cincinnati or Sicily or wherever the fuck you're from." He gripped our cocks, jerking us forward. "They're good boys though, keeping their dicks nice and hard just like they should." A finger was inching down my spine and was in my crack. I wiggled as it slowly scratched my anus then sunk in deep.
"Tight as a fresh pussy, guys." They snickered as another man agreed and I saw Stefan swing his hips like a worm on a hook. I looked away and got a smack on my hard belly. "Look at me when I talk to you, you royal fuck." He rammed his finger hard, curling it deep, making me bounce and yelp
"Time to play `Who Sucks My Cock?'" He flipped a coin and said "Heads." He smacked my face very lightly, small little pats of affection as he drew near. "You won, stud boy, you get the blow job." They lowered Stefan who sobbed that he could not do it. They threatened to pulverize his nuts. He knelt and stared at my erection then licked it up and down as they ordered and I writhed. In the distance I saw Marcus approach and felt a wave of gratitude. He was enthusiastic in his efforts as if keeping me agitated and erect was his goal in life. His easygoing, casual manner and big smile were more like a buddy. He put a halt to things and told the guys to get to the track for the races.
He freed us and told us to follow him. He had that jaunty, confident swagger, shoulders back, waving and high fiving as he passed. As usual, I felt a rising knot of fear in his presence. He insisted we were pals despite his torment. Even when he tied me to a post, arms over head, feet wide and left me for the attention of others, he'd tell me to look on the bright side -- at least I got out of work. He'd knead my neck as we walked, telling me keep up my spirits AND my dick.
He thought he was so cute and the female workers certainly agreed. When he gave that roughish grin they'd squeal and were like putty in his hand. As I hung in misery he'd talk about the previous night's party then give my rump a friendly pat, telling me I should have been there. He enjoyed his work and unfortunately for me, he did a hell of a job.
He led us to the race track explaining that we were all going to the dog races today. I did not see nor hear any canines. We milled with the other princes, fighting the urge to cover ourselves since this would only invite punishment. Benito looked forlorn. His hairy body had been singled out for special attention and he stood quietly, cock throbbing helplessly.
"Come on, man, let's get you all fixed up for the races." Marcus clapped his hands and grabbed the back of my neck, energized and raring to go. I gulped, asked what he meant. He looked at me like I was crazy. "Who you think is gonna represent the fair land of Slovenia?" Oh fuck!! I noticed the gathering crowds and shivered as it all became clear. He dumped out a bag of goodies on a small table and I took a sharp breath at the contents. He said it was time to get me "prepped". He picked up ear muffs with doggie ears that actually were a good fit. Next he selected a short cock gag with a thicket of whiskers. In seconds my mouth stretched wide, the whiskers rubbing my lips as it was buckled tightly.
He looked down at my cock and grinned as it twitched. He tweaked the tip and watched it jerk, then squeezed my shoulder and said he was just having fun. He repeated this until I was gasping, making frantic sounds behind the gag. He laughed and pinched my nose, told me to calm down. My "paws" were fitted on my hands and feet and laced tight.
"You race on all fours, understand, lordship?" Oh God I did! The humiliation increased with each passing second. The mood was festive and folks walked up to Marcus to chat or ask a question or even admire my "outfit". I shivered when he bent my prick, moving it out of the way so that he could buckle the cock ring. The loop under my weeping knob fixed my dick upright. Tears sprung to my eyes when he softly patted underneath my aching nuts. I couldn't fucking help it -- you can't imagine the tension and overwhelming rush of emotion. He backed up, hands on hips and smiled broadly.
"Dog gone! You should see yourself, your majesty!" I looked away and saw a gang of workers stood, talking loudly. They noticed me, waved and gave me a thumbs up. Was it possible to feel worse that this? I discovered that the answer was yes. He held something in his hand and I stared, not wanting to believe it was what it appeared to be.
"Did you think we'd forget your tail?" He chuckled as I gaped in disbelief at the bushy dog tail attached to a good size dildo. My mind blanked as he slowly greased it. The workers had taken their seats not ten feet away, gabbing and joking easily. He took my arm and bent me over a rail so that I stared up at the group, my expression one they thought hilarious. They whistled and hooted, asking what was going on. The sweat poured and I groaned loudly when the dildo was worked inside me. I wagged my ass and yelled a muffled "Fuck". The young men yelled back, loving every minute.
"You got it, prince, you're getting fucked." It was shoved to the coarse hairs. He leaned over, rubbed my neck and said quietly I'd get used to it in a few minutes. When he let go it quivered inside me. He bound it to the belt and when I stood it thrust deeper. I moaned since the heavy tail made the thing rock up and down with each step. I looked down and saw my dick. It was wet from the trickling cum and so hard the veins were visible. I waited, staring into space and he stood next to me, his hand on my shoulder, squeezing firmly, telling me that we were a team.
"In a few minutes you'll be racing and forget all about your cute costume." You cannot imagine the consternation I felt, standing there with my quivering hardon before the throng of rough commoners. He jerked the tail up and down, "checking" it he claimed. I shook and twisted as he worked it vigorously. He laughed, wrapped an arm around my neck, our faces rubbing as I panted and tried to stop the flow of tears. All of us had a tail and many looked real -- the bushy one from Benito's hairy crack looked almost natural.
A booming voice announced the 5 minute warning and asked everyone to take their seats. Vendors and other strangers were present. Some of the vendors called my name and waved a greeting, yelling they had placed bets on me. A young man with short spiked blond hair and a muscle shirt came over and said he'd take me on stage for my introduction. I whirled and cast a pleading look at Marcus who pinched my rump and told me to stand proud. My heart pounded as I was placed in line. Every prince was having a rough time of it - the crowds, the outfits, the throbbing stuffing of their rear ends. The announer's voice boomed over the area.
"Lucas Morazo, duke of Sardinia." The poor guy was tall with a short, very thick cock. His body was lean and seemed to glow with a flush as red as his hair. He stood, sniffling back tears, wiggling his tail, head bowed in obvious distress. He was turned around and the applause grew at the sight of his tail. My heart raced faster and then I was up there turning, bathed in the applause. I was led to the starting point and the guy in the muscle shirt was joined by a buddy. They worked swiftly, attaching knee and elbow locks that kept our limbs from bending. We could barely walk, swinging one leg then the other.
"Paws on the ground!" Laughter erupted as we bent over, legs and arms straight, sweat pouring. The clanging of the bells was endless. My tail was struck and the sensations exploded. The sound of groans, heavy nasal breathing and muffled masculine sobs surrounded me as I looked at the track. The spiked hair young man walked up and down the line wiping each man's (or dog) faces of the grime and tears. He bent close as he ran the cloth over my face.
"Marcus has a little prize for you if you win." I blushed harder if possible. He gave a scornful laugh. "Maybe it's a free trip to the Stage at the Carnival or posting a worker to tease you all night for a few weeks - you should feel real antsy." He reached and gave my moist tip a tiny squeeze. I cried out as he chuckled and moved to the next dog. I waited breathlessly, head pounding, then the gun fired and we were off.
To say it was difficult would be an understatement. Right away, 2 princes fell behind, unable to move. I knocked the leg of someone and passed him before bumping hard into the man on my left. I heard Benito's garbled "Damn" but he remained upright. Another racer slowed but the rest of us forged ahead, drenched in sweat, loud nasal breathing, strangled sounds behind the gags. I came in third but little did I know that this was only the first leg. The loser was removed and we were turned around and lined up for another race. We were off and again I came in third but only by a hair. I was so hot and thirsty - my gag was removed and Marcus held up a bottle of cold water to my lips, his arm around me. The gag was returned and we were off again with shouts of encouragement.
The procedure was repeated after every race. Marcus toweled my body, wiping the sweat and dust. He grew more excited with every race and would brag to the other guards that I was a real winner. He noticed when I purposely pulled a leg of the Sardinian price bringing him down. He slapped my back, face flushed in the excitement of the contest and gave me more advice for the next race. I'd played on the Slovenian soccer team as a sub so I was in good shape but here all bets were off. The men in the stands screamed as all avid sport fans do, yelling for their favorites and castigating those who faltered.
Finally my only competitor was Philip, one of Europe's best soccer players.
I eyed him warily and saw that he raced more out of fright than purpose. I called on my reserves for the last race and took off, butt high, tail waving in the air, the crowd going wild. Marcus waited ahead, red-faced, jumping up and down, screaming my name over the roar of the crowd and in a final burst of energy I crossed the line first. The crowd went wild and Marcus tackled me in the grass, holding me in a huge embrace, rolling on the ground.
"You did it! I knew you could!" His face was shiny and sweaty, his joy quite evident. He pounded my back as he held me and pulled me up to remove the locks on my limbs. I was as wet as if I'd emerged from a swim. My asshole throbbed like hell but I tried to ignore this as we mounted the stage, arms around each others necks, laughing like old pals. When I was announced the winner I noticed that in my exhaustion my cock had softened. Despite the circumstances I reveled in the victory and stood proudly in my ears, tail and bell. Marcus held me close and was so happy he even planted a huge fake kiss on my cheek in front of the guards.
He removed all objects except the tail and led me to the showers. He also stripped and said he'd join me. I saw now why women were so taken. Although he did not possess big muscles, his lean form was very masculine, features rugged. We scrubbed beside one another, sharing the same spigot, pushing each other out of the way good-naturedly. The others joined us and soon the place was loud with post-game revelry. My tail was finally pulled out and I gave a low sigh of relief then felt that sinking feeling. I tried to hide it but that was impossible and in seconds my dick pointed up as I stood flushed. He shook his head, slapped my back and pulled me to the side. Taking hold of my cock he started the old, familiar up and down motion.
"Lock your hands, prince." I pulled them behind my head and stood, legs wide getting my prize -- a blessed hand job. He soaped his palm and returned to the task at hand, grunting as he pumped. He'd speed up then slow down and I would moan as I came close, huffing and puffing, thrusting my crotch. He watched my face closely and stopped when he thought I was getting close. I didn't think he would ever give me release but suddenly his hand sped up and I yelled and shot. It was like a machine gun, huge streams 7 and 8 feet. I collapsed in his arms and he held me while I caught my breath. I felt his own cock, half-hard, pressing mine. The others entered the showers as we scrubbed again. He took a whiff of his underarms and nodded, satisfied.
Four days later I attempted the escape. To make a long story short, I got on the ship and the owner promptly called the estate. I was in the hold of the ship when Marcus showed up with several guards. He greeted me with phony cheer as I looked around frantically.
"Get your directions mixed up, your highness? Early vacation or just taking a stroll?" I did not speak, staring like a deer caught in the headlights. He walked over, put a big arm around my shoulder and pulled me close, speaking almost confidentially. His black eyes blazed and his cheeks were flushed.
"You got the cutest little dimples, prince." I said nothing and he asked what I thought he should go about the situation. I mumbled something indistinct, trembling in fear. He turned to the others, beaming and asked them. They had several suggestions and Marcus said they all sounded good. He gave a nod and I was immediately stripped of my escape clothes, the damn collar snapped tight and my hands bound to it. Now I was truly helpless and in the excitement my cock had hardened. The captain beamed as a guard counted out the reward. Leo, Marcus's pal, spotted a wooden paddle hanging on the wall and asked to borrow it "for a good cause." The familiar feeling of dread consumed me.
The others held it, swinging it in long swipes, smacking each other on their trousers, yelping and laughing. The sweat rolled down my face and chest and that sinking feeling surrounded me. What if I ran or refused to move? My bottom clenched in anticipation and I could not keep my eyes off that shiny board. I could only imagine the impact on my round, tight flesh and every guy would see. He looked at me, tight smile and I bit my lip, breathing shallow and rapid.
"We got a two mile walk, your highness. Don't worry, you won't be sitting much when you return." One guard, a big lout with sandy hair, actually looked at me and rubbed his hands in glee. Marcus and I exchanged a glance and I felt the goose bumps break out as he smacked the board in his palm slowly. I was distracted for a second then the board slammed with a terrifying whack and I barked a loud "Goddamn!"
"Get going, prince, no slackers around here!" Another huge lick of the paddle slammed across my sizzling bottom and I jumped, yelping at the sting.
Some kitchen lads joined the group and yelled at me, asking why I was in such a hurry. It was all starting and I had no time to prepare myself..
"No need to rush, prince. Let's take our time." They raised their fists in the air with a deep "Yeah" as the paddle smacked again. It didn't smart - it burned like a fucking web of hornets that made the leather straps pale in comparison. Marcus had attached a leash to my collar and given it to one of the lads who kept me close. An upward swing made a mighty pop and I hollered and began to bawl earnestly. The pack circled around, a constant noise of teasing, laughing and cheering. I kept hopping and sobbing and lost count of the licks. I'd be hurrying, panting, resting for a few seconds when suddenly the board would land. I'd leap and wail, unable to touch my rump, praying for it to end.
I was paddled into the kitchen and more workers gathered, anxious to see the runaway prince get his just punishment. Marcus stood behind me, a hand on my shoulder, waiting for them to settle down. My breath sounded labored as if I'd just run a Marathon. I was glistening, red and wet. He turned me so that those in the room could see my broiling butt. I glanced at him and he gazed icily, that awful hint of a smile on his face. In his presence my cock grew stiff. He turned me back around to face the audience, his arm around me pinching my nipples, face up close.
"Prince, you really let me down. I thought we were best buds and then you go pull some crazyass stunt like this!" I could not help but wiggle my butt as the grinning men stood waiting. "Well your fun is not quite over yet -- not by a long shot. You need some old-fashioned correction!" He sat and pulled me over his lap as I screamed in protest, a chill up my spine. The men's shouting could have been heard in China but then so could mine.
"Oh shit, not like this!" His response was a sunny, "Yes sir, your co-workers deserve to see this since they had to search for you too. Ya'll agree?" Of course they did and his palm landed so hard that I thought it was the paddle. My rump was in such pain that it hardly mattered but the humiliation hit me instantly. This was a new lesson being taught over his knee and I wouldn't forget it. Neither would those who watched in glee. I held out for a few licks, but when my tears came I wept without pride.
"Oh fuck, that's enough^ÅI can't take anymore^Åyou bastard^Åmy fucking ass^Åoh please!!!" He paid me no attention and smacked steadily as my legs kicked wildly and I scrambled so hard others had to move in to hold me still, warning me to be still for my "spanking". They were having a blast. He paused and a hand gripped my buttock.
"Damn, that ass is on fire!" Other hands followed until Marcus told them he needed to get "back to work." I bellowed and the men roared as the slaps started anew. The men gave good-natured cheers to my frantic responses. When he stopped I lay there, twisting and churning, choking on my sobs, hiccupping, defeated. My ass was so sore that a touch caused me to gasp and cry out. I was lifted and placed on the work table. My head was pulled down over the end and secured in place as my knees were stretched wide and tied firmly, my raw ass stuck up high.
"I think my best bud is probably hungry, right?" I waited in the silence and heard the sound of a zipper. He stepped up holding his rapidly-hardening prick. "I got some nourishment for you, prince. In fact, you're gonna suck every single dick in this room." I screamed in protest but hands grabbed my balls and I stared at black bush and hard dick.
"Kiss the knob, prince." I obeyed, fresh tears streaming at this new debasement. My ass was so sore and was being tormented by the workers. "Now suck each ball." I had to open wide to mouth each hairy testicle, the smell of male sweat strong.
"Time for you dick lesson, your majesty. You know the saying, there's a first time for everything" His large cock pressed and thrust inside my mouth forcing me to open wide. Tears streamed almost unconsciously, the enormity of sucking another guy's dick hitting me at last. The spongy head slipped in and the others crowded close, bending down for a better look, giving me instructions on how their gals suck and what I should do. Marcus fed his dick to me slowly, inch by inch, letting me get used to its taste and size. His cock danced in my mouth as it plunged deeper and I felt the thick pubes as he exploded and I sucked it for every drop, terrified of the reaction if I didn't obey. .
"Sorry to disappoint, your highness, but that's all." Marcus stepped back and instantly another dick was shoved in. I'd be doing this the rest of the day. The new lad stood proudly, arms folded, legs wide, slowly waving his crotch in a nice, easy face fuck. When he came he held my ears as he shot the hot, thick sour fluid inside and I swallowed. He pulled out and in seconds a new eager dick took its place.
"Damn, he could teach some of the bar babes a few lesson -- suck my prick, prince!" The new guy, the youngest worker in the kitchen at 18, gave me a rough plowing to the claps and cheers of his co-workers. He had his hands behind his head and thrust his hips back and forth, the cock sliding in and out of my mouth. He suddenly froze.
"Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum!" Two buddies stood beside him, arms around his shoulders and waist supporting him as he exploded. I gagged at the surge of hot thick fluid. The pair congratulated him as they walked off, arms around each other, reveling in the sexual release. It was an endless line of cocks and I lost count at 12 or 13. Marcus squatted to watch two guys feed me their pricks at the same time, to see guys spurt in my hair, face, nose, ears. I looked up at Leo, cock rigid and positioned. Marcus stood beside his friend as I sucked vigorously and was rewarded with another huge load. I was literally getting full of sperm. At some point the men field out and we were alone. Marcus climbed up on the table behind me.
"I've wanted to do this for a long time, your majesty, and there's no better time than the present." I heard the zipper and rustling of cloth. I begged him, knowing my pleas were useless. He lay on my back and clasped a hand around my mouth, lips grazing my ears.
"You make me call in the guards and I'll let them take you too." I knelt, waiting for his triumph, trying to think of something else. His cock was very hard, poking my raw butt like a steel peg. His voice was soothing and I could imagine those that fell under his magic. "Yeah, take it easy, still searching that burning butt, ah, there it is, tight little hole." He thrust and the head poked inside as I yelped.
"How's that feel, your highness?" The thick knob was caught as my anus closed around it tightly. He shoved, growling like a beast as he plowed faster then in one clean swoop he was in up to his pubes. I screamed but his hand covered the sound. My tail was so incredibly sore, very raw, and his thrust sent waves of agony that joined the ones in my rectum. He rubbed my face against his, the stubbles burning.
"Up all the way inside you, my lord, and it feels so good I'm taking my time." He did slow down, easing in and out slowly, his arms holding me tight, hot breath on my face. He grew more agitated, thrusting viciously, his tongue deep in my ear whispering again.
"I'm chilling with my best bud and I know he likes it. Man, does it feel good!" He suddenly turned my head and his mouth slammed into mine. His tongue thrust deep, lapping at the residue of his sperm. His mouth was still open on mine, saliva and cum mixing as he explored. He snarled and thrust, pounding like a battering ram as he held me tight. It ended only when he roared and spurted, mouths locked, marking his territory with an enormous load inside the crimson flesh. He collapsed on my back, holding me tight, chest heaving with long, tortured gasps. His cock remained inside me, still hard and he rubbed and pushed as I groaned at the agony of my behind.
My collar was released and I was raised to my knees, his cock fully inside, holding me tight. He reached around and gripped my cock, starting the most delicious hand job in history. We were slick with sweat and cum and he pumped silently, biting my ear. I gave my own cry of release and shot streams of hot cum across the room. Unfortunately for Marcus the Manager was making his rounds and received a white spray on his black, silk coat. Marcus jumped off the table, mouth open in shock as he tried to explain. His trusty aides beamed with sure knowledge that this arrogant newcomer who'd caught everyone's eye was about to be humbled.
"Sir, I am so^Å.I mean, let me get^Å.I can wipe it off^Åwe were^Å" The Manager walked over and slapped Marcus across the face.
"Shut up!" Marcus nodded, petrified and naked. "Take this down!" He turned to his aides, poised to write his every word. "Giving a slave relief, having sex with a slave, having a slave out beyond his bedtime^Å" He went on like this for a full minute then told them to write it up and call the guards. A phalanx of men appeared in a few minutes, staring at the sight.
"This man loves slaves so much he is going to serve as one. As long as Prince Nikos is on this island, Marcus will serve beside him." Marcus was sputtering, trying to explain, to get a word in edgewise but of course he had about as much chance of changing the Manager's mind as I did of flying. I was untied and we were ordered to bed. Leo was present and had a strange expression on his face. We walked to the slave's sleeping quarters followed by Leo and the guards. Marcus half-turned, talking low.
"Leo, buddy, you know this is such a crock of ^Å" His words were cut short with a loud whack that made him jump.
"Quiet, slave. I'd hate to bend you over my knee out here in the hall." I almost cheered at Marcus's expression. He literally shook upon realizing how quickly things changed. Slowly he locked his fingers behind his head and stepped behind me only to be smacked again by the palm. My mood brightened considerably -- misery loves company and all that. This arrogant former star was going to be taught quite a few lessons by the elated guards. I took a glance and saw his red face and wet eyes. His lips trembled and he panted rapidly, the merriment of the guards like a knife to his heart.
The other slaves looked up when we entered and were tied to our beds. As soon as the guards left I told them the story starting with the escape although I left out the part about the sucking and rape except to say that he had "broken some rules" and would serve as long as I did. He never said a word, biting his lip, trying to rein in his emotions. This was almost a cause for celebration as the slaves began to taunt him, promising they would try to get him in as much trouble as possible. Marcus never said a word but I saw a shiver run thru his body lean, hard body.
The next morning we were eating on our knees as usual and a guard told Marcus that his food contained the erection-inducting sap. By this afternoon they expected that pecker to stand up nice and tall. A single tear rolled down his cheek as he lapped the food beside me. I leaned over and whispered.
"Don't worry, Marcus. You only got 2 months of this." A guard rubbed the tip of his boot up and down his hairy crack, scratching the anus and he swallowed, trembling. He had always joked about my nakedness, saying after all it was just a bunch of guys -- what was the problem? He was learning now what it meant to have no privacy, to be on open display 24 hours. Soon he would be sporting a raging hardon like the other slaves. We were grinding today and I caught my breath -- each destination yet another chance to be humiliated.
We were hustled to a large object that looked like a giant wheel on its side with 8 steel "spokes". We lined up behind the beams that pressed on our chests below our throats. Our arms went under and around the beams and our wrists were buckled to our collars. I could rest my chin on the beam if I wished. We were totally exposed from the neck down and I felt my cock rising in fear. A new indignity awaited us as a gang of college students on a tour of the island watched with undisguised contempt and amusement. One of the guards asked if they'd like to "decorate" us. Excitedly they picked up ribbons and clips. Two women tied a little pink bow on my standing cock, remarking on its hardness and "cuteness". Two lads, not to be outdone, hung little bells from the hair in my armpits. I whispered, begging and pleading but the folks were having a good time and thought this the highlight of their tour. A couple sprayed my balls with cologne and the young man gave my bottom a sound pop, telling me to look sharp.
A guard stood next to Benito while a couple rubbed his red ass. The guard was explaining what he had done to deserve his thrashing and Benito sobbed silently as the woman idly fondled his erection. She seemed fascinated by his large balls, examining them closely, tugging the black hairs that covered them. In front of me, poor Marcus had attracted attention with his rugged body and handsome face. Clips with a chain were snapped on his nipples and a sneering young man held a flag of the island as a group chanted, "Do it" over and over. He shrugged, grinned and slowly worked the small but thick handle of the flag inside his rear end, pushing until it popped in. A guard came over, chuckling, and warned Marcus he'd better not let his flag come out. I heard his sobs as he trembled.
At last we were fitted and began marching in a circle. This was not just drudgery and empty work. No, we were grinding the fine meal that the island is known for. Those beams were fucking heavy and every now and then a "slacker" would receive a resounding pop. The crowd would yell out a number, from one to ten, grading the lick. They also graded our dicks -- at least the gals did. The men looked at our muscles, asking about sports in Europe. One guy asked it I normally walked around with a hard prick.
The little flag jutting from the rump in front of me waved all morning. I knew Marcus had to make an extra effort to hold it in tight and by lunch he was subdued, no longer the popular new guy with the handsome smile and winsome ways. He especially hated what he excelled at -- the close attention of the guards. He would cringe when a hand rubbed his shoulder or fingers squeezed his rump lightly. At lunch he blinked back tears but never complained, never asked for mercy. A kind guard removed the flag and gave him a pep talk as he was laced back to the beam. We set off again and this time it was boring, step after step except for the water breaks. The crowds had left and we toiled in solitude, the only sound being the occasional loud whack of a belt by a bored guard.
The same guard scrubbed both of us in the showers, making us get each other's back and shoulders. I whispered to him, asking how he liked his new job. He was furious but what could he do? After dinner it was bedtime and I noticed that his cock stood tall now -- whether because he could no longer masturbate or the additive or a combination o the two I couldn't say.
Two days later he yelled back at one of the guards at breakfast. He was shoved out of the kitchen, apologizing the entire time. We stepped out behind him, watching as he was led to the "Triangle". He began hollering and pulling away, begging as his hands were raised and hung from a hook above. His legs were spread and fixed to the sides of the triangle. He floated, helpless and wide open.
We marched past his struggling form, giving his bottom a squeeze or asking how he liked "hanging around". Luckily, we were assigned to plant fresh flowers and could see him clearly. He stared at us, stunned, his face bright red. Thick bushes of black hair glistened under his arms, between his legs, that thick trail. A guard rubbed his knuckles over his short black hair and pulled on curls around his quarter-sized nipples on his heaving chest. His broad shoulders narrowed to hard abs and a thin waist and his brawny, hairy legs strained. His cock rose from the thick forest, the excitement too much to control. His large balls swung, drawn up tighter. Every inch of his sweaty, gleaming body was open and on display. He hung alone for some time then caught his breath, his eyes wide with fear. A group of workers, talking loudly, saw him and walked over, amused..
As they approached, his cock pumped visibly. The brash attitudes of the young men sent chills up my spine -- I could only imagine what Marcus must feel. They drew closer, surrounding him like a pack closing in on its prey. Hands squeezed his rump, cock, balls, jerked his armpit hair and pinched his nipples. They squeezed his shoulder, kneaded his neck, put arms around his waist in a mock show of friendliness. Already he was near the breaking point when one of them said something and they all cackled. He pulled out a surgical glove and slowly pulled it on to loud hurrahs. Someone held a tube of suntan lotion and he lubed the middle finger well as Marcus bucked and yanked at the straps. We watched mesmerized.
"Just a quick check, bro. Pull those pretty cheeks apart, guys." Hands spread his tail exposing the hairy crack. The guard moved behind him and all eyes watched closely. Marcus gasped and froze and his cock straining upward for release when the finger curled inside him. He threw back his head and gave a guttural moan at the vigorous motions. The young men yelled, urging their buddy to dig deeper. Marcus mouthed a long, low "No" as the finger pushed harder, thrusting inward making him buck and squirm against the never-ending diddling. His hair dripped with sweat as he churned his hips. When the finger was pulled out Marcus took long deep breaths, shutting his eyes.
They snickered at his thick, upright prick, spanking it from side to side. It kept returning to its upright position, never flagging. A few guards came over to see what all the commotion. They stood behind the hanging body, giggling and talking low when a loud "Yeah!" rang out. Someone had thought of a new torment for the poor guy. A worker held a slick metal rod with a little knob on the end. He thrust and slowly inserted the thing. Marcus opened his mouth, gasping at the deep penetration. Yells of "Find that spot, Rudgers!" were heard. As Rudgers probed this way and that, a guard watched Marcus's face and shouted when he saw the reaction.
"That's the spot, man. You got his little button." The rod wiggled, rubbing the knot inside him making his cock drool, sperm rolling down the purplish organ. The rod poked and prodded over and over as the sweating young man jerked with spasms. One of the guards who'd never liked him saw a chance to strike back and strode close, beaming from ear to ear at the stimulation.
"Look here, man." Marcus stared at him, gritting his teeth then emitting a harsh sigh as he was jabbed again. The guard walked over to a post and pointed to a strap.
"Now you know the rules, Marcus my boy. Slaves are not allowed to pop their load and if you do, I'll be forced to blister that handsome bottom." Marcus stared, wide-eyed and terrified. The young man with the rod was relentless, withdrawing it then inserting it again or letting it stay deep inside as he shuddered, very close to an orgasm. He threw back his head, making animal noises as his hips churned helplessly.
"Please, stop, oh fuck, I'm gonna^ÅI can't help it^Å.No, no, oh fuck!!" The rod teased his hole until they saw the signs -- it was too late. We watched as he froze, then shouted and spewed an enormous load that landed 6 feet away, then another and a third one. He was trying to explain as the guard shook his head and with a bounce to his step, walked over and took down the black rubber strap. Marcus was almost hysterical and I knew the feeling, knowing you are going to be publicly thrashed and unable to do a thing about it. Facing these rowdy tuffs who were enjoying his discipline, he was breaking down. The guard rubbed the side of his face almost tenderly.
"I really hate this, man, but I gotta teach you obedience. Don't ya'll agree?" He got a loud and amused "Yeah" from the group that waited impatiently. Marcus tried in vain to remain strong before the smug young man with the wicked strap. "No time like the present, right?" Every slave was savoring this moment yet I felt for him, understanding what he was experiencing. The guard walked behind him announcing to the world his ignominious reason for his thrashing.
"You're getting a licking for coming like a bad boy, Marcus." Everyone laughed as his round rump tightened. The guard pulled back his arm and swung. Fuck! It sounded like a damn cannon. The guard responded to the cheers by smacking again, harder this time. Marcus was wagging his tail relentlessly, the frantic motions almost humorous. His rump was tightening before each lick and we all gave him a "thumbs up." He was lost in his own world, yelping and hollering and before long, sobbing. Stretched and helpless, the strap smacked his tender crack and anus repeatedly. Even his hairy arm pits were given several smacks. The punishment seemed to go on forever and when I looked he was red from ankles to waist.
"This will help you sleep, Marcus!" The men cheered as I yelled again. "Marcus, with all that bawling you'd think you were getting a whipping or something." I was repeating all that he had said to me. He wept louder and louder until he wailed, not bothering to disguise his flood of tears. His backside was fire engine red. The guard finally tired and stopped. He was mobbed by well-wishers congratulating him for a job well done.
"You really taught him a lesson, man." He stood in front of the handsome, writhing man, hands on hips, grinning as fingers felt the heat of his backside, squeezing and rubbing. For some reason I felt a wave of pity for him at this moment. He hung there helpless yet manly, his lean, strong body in motion and once again, his cock was hard.
"Look at that thing, standing up again. A good whipping does that." His cock strained when his nipples were pinched or his rump rubbed. Tears and snot ran down his face as they laughed, having fun. One of the guards called over 2 workers who were watching.
"I got a job for you. Look here!" He put a finger on the sticky tip, pulled the cock down about half way then released it so that it bobbed up. Marcus groaned loudly as the worker and his buddy grinned. One of the lads pulled it down and let it go.
"Damn, look at that thing -- almost no give!" The other lad reached out and gave the tip a squeeze as he pulled it down, releasing it with a loud "Boing" as wild laughter erupted. Marcus hung there, suffocating in humiliation. Being naked, even displaying your hardon could be accepted. This was different -- using his stiffness as amusement. A bench was set in front of the Triangle as Marcus stared, that knot of dread rising. The guard told the lads they had a new task -- keeping that prick bobbing up and down. About every 15 seconds one of them pulled it down, held it a second then let it fly back up.
His buddy, not to be outdone, pulled a comb out of his pocket and began running it thru the treasure trail and thick bush announcing he would make the curls "ruffle". He slowly combed the hair on the scrotum as Marcus wiggled. He stiffened as he felt the comb moving slowly toward his rear end. He gasped when it delved deep and tormented his exposed hole while pulling the thick curls surrounding it. The comb kept scraping across the hold gently as Marcus moaned. His cock was again rigid and he cried out instantly when his raw bottom was touched. The lad looked at him then at the guard.
"What happens if he comes again?" The guard brought over the strap and laid it across the bench, chortling that he bet it was in easy reach. The workers hooted as Marcus shuddered. All day they kept at it, taking turns, varying the touches, making comments about his big balls, hairy legs or thick bush. Sometimes they'd stop for a minute or two then suddenly remember and give him several quick bounces. He cried throughout his ordeal, never getting used to it and that afternoon when the two were taking a smoke break and they spoke to him casually.
"Don't worry, I'm gonna make sure you come. My arm's been needing a good workout." Marcus shuddered as we left. That night he was hustled beside me in the food line, arriving late. His face was wet and he looked stricken as he began lapping quickly. A guard came by and knelt. He asked him how that last thrashing compared to the first one. Marcus replied it was about the same, gulping and waiting, head above his bowl, waiting for permission to continue. We were marched into the sleeping quarters and his rump and entire backside was scarlet. He cried out when he was tossed on the bed and bound.
"You OK, Marcus?" I was concerned, afraid it was all too much for him. We whispered for a long time about our former lives. I contrasted my upbringing with wealth and comfort and opportunity with his life on a Georgia farm, working dawn to dusk until he ran away. Ending up on the boat at 16 was the best thing that ever happened to him. For the first time he had a family and people who cared. He blossomed into a charismatic, fine-looking young man with a cocky manner that was endearing to all. He moaned, the mere touch of the mattress on his scalded rump causing pain.
The next two months passed quickly. We worked the farm for weeks, picking vegetables and fruits, enjoying the weather -- a group of naked guys laughing and busy. Most of the guards left us alone, caring only that we finished our job for the day. One in particular was a secret blessing. He was assigned to watch us and let us go swimming in a nearby pool. We whooped and ran as we jumped into the water, unable to believe our luck. We wrestled and under the water every guy was stroking madly. I stood beside Marcus, our cocks in hand, straining to come standing up. When we shot we laughed and dissolved into a big embrace, wrestling in the water, climbing to the shore. We sat and I wrapped an arm around Benito and Marcus's shoulders and we lay back. Each of them rested a face on my chest, turned sideways and stretched a hairy arm around me as they pulled closer. Their hard cocks pressed my thighs as we all drifted to sleep
Not everything was this fun. The guard who had it out for him marched both of us to the carnival for no reason. We knew what was inside the loud tent and it affected him more than me since it would be Delos, his pal, administering the whipping. He mounted the stage and stood staring into space as the crowd jeered at him -- a guard now serving as a slave. Marcus was in turmoil the entire time. Afterwards we were forced to stand in the corner, hands behind heads as fingers tested the intense heat from our rumps. Marcus did not take it well, bucking and wiggling to the delight of the throng.
Three days before my scheduled time was up, Marcus was caught masturbating. We were all almost mad with desire and the inability to get any sort of relief. We were constantly watched and the times when that was not possible we were equipped with devices that prevented release. The guards delighted in teasing us about this, asking each other in front of us how their morning jerk went or even making us wait a few times while they slowly rubbed themselves to a boiling spurt.
Their main weapon against us though was our own vulnerability. We were all virile men in our 20's used to coming at least once and probably twice a day. Suddenly that ceased and the pressure built. A favorite game of the guards was to have us strapped to a kitchen table and then rub our private with stiff little brushes parts until we bucked with desire, begging and pleading. They always managed to find time to torment me. One lad would concentrate on my anus and balls, the other on my dick and nipples. Those devilish hairs would poke just inside my hole that was open due to my knees being stretched wide. The other lad swiped my cock, up and down, concentrating on the swollen, wet head. My scrotum was lightly brushed and by mid-morning a pool of frustrated sperm had gathered on the table, seeping out in drops or dribbles.
One time Benito was brought in and moved behind me. I couldn't see what was going on and then I felt his stubble on my ass. I gurgled and froze as his tongue slithered in deep. He had been trained well over the weeks. They made sure that big tongue was inside me and I almost fainted with the sensation. Oh fuck, I was having my ass eaten for the first time. I groaned loudly, ignoring the laughter of the men who watched the horrible scene. I felt his tears as his tongue moving rapidly, twirling, driving me nearly insane. I bounced up and down and he kept his face buried inside my crack, the tongue never ceasing. I lost track of time as soft little strokes covered my gargantuan cock head. They were quick to deliver harsh smacks if they thought he was slacking. He'd vigorously dive in and they'd chuckle and remark what a good job he was doing, eating his cousin's ass.
I would look up and see some lad unbuckling his trousers, grinning, then in seconds he'd be right at my face, looking around to make sure the others saw my debasement, his swollen head rubbing my nose or chin. Without a word I would take in the organ and suck until he exploded, usually within a minute.
They seemed to find special ways to punish Marcus. Once he was on the table as I peeled potatoes. He pleaded with them for just a minute of relief. One of the guards came over slowly, grinning that evil smile.
"Tell you what, man, I bet you'd take a nice blowjob right about now, right?" Marcus shook his head almost pathetically. Several guys attacked at once, turning him on his back, his legs pulled over his head and his long, hard member stuffed in his own mouth. They held his head up forcing his mouth to accept his own dick.
"You got your wish, dude. You're gonna get that dick sucked dry." He squealed but was trapped sucking his own prick that was one of the largest here. They ordered him to flick the head with his tongue and he jerked, obviously obeying. He flicked the hot, pulsing head and they leaned over him watching closely, grinning and asking how it felt. When they brushed his hole I saw him wiggle and then he froze, gagging on his own come, tears streaming down his face. They brought him over and made us kiss deeply, laughing and calling us lovebirds and poof balls, forcing us to duel with our tongues. I tasted his sour cum as we locked lips for several minutes.
The next time he was caught masturbating he was taken to the Triangle and tethered. I was brought over and bound behind him. Arms up, legs spread, dick in his crack. I was pulled back and silently my cock was greased -- I knew what they planned. My cock was guided inside him and he growled a low "ahhh" as I slid deep. They were forcing me to rape him. They asked him how it felt, did he feel like a man now? When I was in to the hilt a belt was buckled around us, holding me in place with only a little play. The guards circled, grinning and checking then we were left alone, my cock all the way up his round ass. My dick pulsed without ceasing and I felt his shaking body and low weeping.
We were displayed and yet few seemed to care that my prick twitched inside him. He was writhing and twisting without stopping. At last he grew still, his tight hole working my cock with its muscles, squeezing uncontrollably. We were finally taken down but the belt was not removed. We were ordered back to our sleeping quarters and we walked in this mind-numbing way, my dick buried up his ass. He moaned and gasped and jerked from side to side during out little walk. I held his chest up, telling him he could get thru this but he was inconsolable. In the bed we were tied facedown, me still inside him. They had some kind of device in me that prevented a spurt so we slept this way. How could he possibly go to sleep with a huge pulsing cock up his rectum? Yet he did, snoring at last, overcome with exhaustion as at last the object was removed and I spurted. Tomorrow I would be free and already I had a plan in mind.