Sweet Subjugation

By Robert Louis / Robert Halstead

Published on Jan 6, 2023

Gay

"The alex series" book 2: Sweet Subjugation

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Chapter 83. Weekend "punishments"

Brandon arrives at the Professor's car in time with his overnight bag and wearing work boots. Professor Keaton arrives just about a minute later and clicks the car unlocked and tells brandon to hop in. Oh the way to His house, the Prof asks brandon's honest feelings about his Master being away. Disappointed, insulted, angry and resentful all rolled up together, Sir."

"I love your grasp of the English language, my boy. Now could you please take them one at a time so we can examine them?"

"Disappointed" because this boi is losing a weekend with Him.

"Insulted" because He never thought enough of me to tell me so I could prepare."

"angry for Him doing this to me."

"resentful" because of the ways He's having people use me while He's gone.

The Professor wants to look at them one at a time. "Disappointed: brandon, you make a lot of assumptions, such as you're entitled to every weekend with Him. I don't believe that's ever been stipulated. And I would also want to add "selfish and self-centered" because you are giving absolutely no energy or concern about why He would have been called away for so long.

"Insulted: Look at that honestly: does a slave have so much pride still within it that it thinks it shouldn't be insulted by being ignored? Shit! That's one of the first things a slave has to learn.

"angry: if one day you're kneeling in a room and Master comes in and lashes you across the back with a thick belt for no reason, what would you think? ---"Um...that I'm a slave and Master doesn't need a reason to beat me at any time and any way." "Good answer. But would you get angry at him?" "Not at all, wouldn't even dare. Oh shit! I see what You're getting at, Sir. Master can do anything He wants to me at any time, including going away for ten days without letting me know He was going to do it." No difference. Ok. I accept the way He's treated me because I'm a slave and slaves are rarely told their Masters' plans.

"resentful" "the lower your willingness to be forced into greater submission might be, it seems to have fled the picture. Your Master is putting you out as the faggot slut you are by prostituting it on the Internet, and you're allowing yourself to pass judgment on any of the conditions rather than bowing to the ground and accepting the humiliation and further training. brandon, that should be taken very seriously; resentment ruins many potentially good slaves from realizing their potential.

"I, . . I don't know what to say, Sir, other than the fact that I have a long way to go and that I have been slipping back since Thanksgiving."

"Well, think about these things tonight and over the weekend. I suggest you consider this entire weekend up at the ranch as part of the punishment you deserve for having these twisted thoughts lately. Not really "twisted" because your thoughts and feelings were quite normal—for free men. But you like to think you're a slave, and look at how you've been thinking lately. A good punishment is definitely needed so expect some considerable punishment this weekend and let it press your mind back down to where slaves belong, all trained and surrendered. No need to speak further about this.

You will be rather spoiled in some ways tonight. Your disciplining will begin in the morning when we arrive at Master Leroy's Ranch. And remove your clothing now while we are riding in this car. You won't need clothing for the rest of the weekend. You can put these things back on when I drive you back to the dorm on Sunday night."

A naked brandon gets out of the Professor's car clutching the overnight bag the slave has with it. henry stands naked in the open door and welcomes brandon in. As soon as brandon gets in, henry says "follow me, brandon" and leads the slave downstairs to a room across from the dungeon and opens the door. It's a simple room with some metal boxes for storage, a large mattress and pillows and a couple of blankets folded up at the end. He sees a bathroom which is quite primitive and is equipped with a "squat-type" toilet like they have in China. There's also a sink and a paperback books tossed here or there. "Master only lets me read gay bdsm stories to learn from," henry explains. brandon has never thought of reading such things in real novels. This is going to open a whole new world for him to explore. "So what now?" asks brandon. "Let's just hang here and wait to be told what's next, okay?" "You have a much better attitude about this than I do. I could learn a lot from you, henry." "Well, I hope so. I've been a slave for almost thirty years." "Wow. When did you start?" "I was fourteen. I was trafficked, ended up in some villa in Peru when the drugs wore off. I was naked and some old man was whipping me all over my body with some kind of reed and he was screaming at me but I didn't understand the language." "Omg, that must have been awful. I'm so sorry. "The first few months were really awful and there was this guy who right away started teaching me my "duties," and if I performed well I was given food and if I didn't I'd be whipped, and after a while, I was getting mostly food because I discovered that I really liked doing all the things they were getting me to do, all except drinking piss. And I still hate it. So anyway, that's how I got started." "How'd you end up back here?" "there was one group of Americans with a lot of money to burn and they were looking for American kids being used that way and was outright just buying them back and that's how they got me here. They bought me. And for a while, they treated me really good but also used my body but not rough, and they kept passing me around to other men until one time something seemed to "click" between me and one of the guys I was given to and he kept me around for a while and started telling me that I was still a slave and always would be. And guess what? That was perfect for me! A lot of guys like me try running away but usually ended up in even worse situations, some guys end up dying young and there are always some who just kill themselves because they can't handle it. It's a big shame, and I'm one of the lucky ones. Been a slave 30 years and most of it's been okay and I'm still just as much a masochist and submissive as I've always been. And this Master is the best one I've ever had even though he's super strict about a lot of things."

Suddenly there is a beep and the Professor's voice is heard: "Come upstairs, slaves. henry, get supper started; brandon will eat what you eat. Brandon, please come into my office."

henry shrugs his shoulders and they both get up and go where they were told to go. When brandon enters the Prof's office, he's told to close the door and come to kneel on the high step at the side of the Professor's desk. Once brandon is in place and kneeling upright, the Professor reaches back and slaps brandon across the face. brandon just lowers his eyes and says, "Thank You, Sir."

"Yes. Kneel there with your eyes lowered until told differently. When I slapped you, what did that tell you?" "Sir, it told me that I am in this house as a slave, not anything better like a guest." "Excellent, slave. And so you accepted the slap? Did you try to push it away? Get angry?"

"Yes, Sir, this slave accepted it like a good slave. No to the other two things, Sir."

"So once again I make the same point as before."

"Yes, Professor, Sir. Thank You."

"So, at the risk of repeating the obvious, there are things I want you to realize: First, you are a slave in this house and for the entire weekend. Secondly, your Master is well aware of what will be happening and approves all of it. Third, as I told you this afternoon, you are to consider everything that happens at the ranch as part of your punishment for thinking rebellious thoughts. Fourth, there are a lot of things that My slave can teach you. Ask questions, good ones. And finally, safe words are not accepted at the Ranch. Get used to that idea now. AS I've said to you, brandon, all of this will be punishment."

"Yes, Professor, Sir."

"The word "Sir" will suffice this weekend, brandon. Oh, one other thing: before the two of you are given your supper tonight, I will want to sit and watch a friend give you a sound spanking. You would know who it is were you not blindfolded, but that is what will happen. You will be led into a room blindfolded and naked and henry will help you get into position to receive the spanking. No safe words. Don't fake anything because that will only make things worse."

The Door Bell rings. "Oh that must be my friend now. Blind this boy, henry and be quick about it."

henry takes me by the hand and rushes into a rather large walk-in closet containing just about every possible type of bdsm toy. He takes down some black cloth and wraps it around my head several times then wants me to say when all vision is blacked out, and I do. No faking it.

We stand there in the closet until Sir's voice is heard. henry takes me by the hand and leads me over to what I feel are a man's legs in trousers. henry turns me a little and then helps me bend over, then henry locks his hands with mine and he pulls on them until I'm stretched out pretty good. He keeps holding them there, always pulling a bit. A largeish hand begins caressing my cheeks and then it begins, not too hard at first, one side than the other, then two on each side, then three on each side, then on, then two, then three and each time it keeps getting harder. Once in a while the man stops and caresses my sore ass again but now it isn't a pleasant feeling. And then the spanking begins again, same pattern, and I'm now crying out and hollering and then the damn breaks and I'm crying, then sobbing, but still the spanking continues until I hear Sir's voice say, "Enough! Slave, fall off that lap and kneel up, hands behind your head. Make sure you do not touch your ass or there will be another beating for you."

I kneel there, still sobbing. I can feel the breeze in the room when the man who spanked me went past, but then only muffled voices as the prof leads the friend to the door again.

He comes back in. By then, henry has removed the blindfold and has given me a rag of some sort to dry my eyes with. Not a word is said about the whipping I just received and will be feeling still in the morning, I think.

"Supper, Master," I hear henry cry out and the prof leaves the room and just leaves me kneeling there.

I hear henry serving the prof His supper. Then he comes in to me and says, "let's go downstairs. I have our supper here." He is holding two bowls, not too large, but each has a handle that it hangs from. We go downstairs. henry leads me over to a little alcove and has me kneel there. Then he kneels and puts the two bowls on the floor. It appears to be some kind of mush but is very flavorful even though it is only mush and I have bury my face in it and lap it up like some kind of dog.

After we're done eating, I begin to feel very drowsy and I start wondering if something was put into the food. Next thing I know, I'm lying on the mattress and henry is spooning me. "This way if you wake up in the middle of the night you'll at least be in my arms. That will help you remember you're safe with me," henry says, and a couple other things as well but I fall asleep rather quickly.

I guess I slept good but waking up was not the most pleasant of all experiences. My balls hurt! and suddenly I realize that this dude is standing over me and kicking my balls with his cowboy boots. I naturally throw my hands down to protect myself. "Oh, no, faggot! Hands behind your back. NOW!" and the kicking continues a while longer until I'm grunting hard. "Up, slave. Go piss in the hole then get back here and eat your breakfast. You got five minutes, slave, then you'd damn well be out the back door and climbin' into my truck!" henry hurries me along and I'm still only half awake. "Piss now, boy, or you'll end up having to piss all over yourself later. and hurry so we can eat!" I do it as quickly as I could and henry practically drags me to the feeding place. This seems like a watery oatmeal and I doubt there are any drugs in it if they think they'll be getting any work out of us today. I don't even finish it cause it's kind of gross and needed some sugar. Henry give me a boost into the back seat of the truck until I realize that there isn't any back seat! It's just an empty area and there's a drinking spout attached to a water bottle. "Try not to drink any water or you'll end up pissing yourself later." henry warns me so I hold off.

The area we're in is completely unfurnished, down to the metal at the bottom of the carriage(?) and we get so bounced around that I think I might get some bruises from the ride itself. Yeah, I know: all part of the punishment.

We go up a bumpy hill and then the truck stops. Can't see what's outside yet. I hear another truck pull up as well. One of the drivers yells to the other truck "Get your fucking asses out of that truck or I'll give you another thrashing!" Meanwhile our door opens as well and the guy just yells "Out!" The change in lighting blinds me temporarily, but at least I'm on my own two feet and I hear someone cracking a whip and yelling, all you fuckers up against that wall! and henry drags me to something to lean up against. I hear the whip crack again and a boy yell `Shit!' I look over and realize that there are five of us all together, but the boy who yelled shit! about Justin's age, I think, is dragged forward and has his arms locked around the back of a ranchhand while he's facing out front and he gets five more cracks of that whip right across his chest! Holy shit! (Good think I didn't say that out loud).

"Don't have much to say now, do you, faggot slave!" "Didn't think so. Well, just so you all know what's up around here, you naked dudes in boots are our "special helpers" this weekend. One of the other hands yells out, "that's a polite way to say `faggot slaves'!" and all the guys laugh. except for us. and the kid who just got his chest whipped is still sniffling. "So two fucking rules for you slaves: one is absolute silence unless someone asks a question. you can holler and scream and cry all you want, but no fucking talking from any of you. Rule Two: If someone on this ranch tells you to kneel, you kneel. It he tells you to lick, you lick. If he tells you to suck, you suck. Rule number two is real simple. Just fucking do what the fuck you're told and you might get out of here tomorrow with some pale skin still showing on your miserable bodies."

"anyone else?"

The big blond guy speaks up. "My name is Bret. I'm warning you right now, I fucking hate faggots. You see me coming, eyes down! Do not look at my hair. Do not look at my face. Do not look at my crotch. Cause if you do, you're gonna end up with my fucking fist up your ass, and when I pull it out you're gonna lick it clean, cause it will be your shit on my fist!"

A muscular older guy speaks next: at very entrance way there is a pail of water. That's the slave water. You can drink it without permission any time you need to. But if you have to piss, just piss wherever you are and if you get any of our flooring wet, you'll lick it up. Oh, and just so it's out in the open: you slaves are not expected to drink any one's piss this weekend—that is, unless you want to! From time to time one of us might ask if anyone wants our piss before heading to the can. Now for assignments: henry, take slurp with you and start chopping the wood out back. pug, you and brandon to the stable. it's his first time so show him the way. And you, bobble, come with me. Before I put you to work I want to get to do what I didn't get to do last time: fuck the crap out of you. Come with me." And he walks off just expecting bobble to follow him. bobble is well built, looks about 25, I'd say. As he turns to walk away I see that there are cane welts across his back.

Someone hits my arm. It's pug, waving for me to follow. We get to the stable. There's 10 stalls and they all stink. "This is real simple," he whispers to me. "Pick up the shit and dump in this wheelbarrow. Watch." And he shows me. And it is simple. He pushes me to the next stall and I guess I just start working. It's not so simple. It's gonna take me forever to get all this shit into all that thing over there because I keep spilling it on the ground as I try to move it over. I keep struggling with it until some dude claps his hand on my neck and takes over, showing me again. I try again. A little better. He slaps my sore ass a couple times and takes over again. This time I guess I get it right, because He just slaps me on the back-and damn, did that hurt! these guys are strong---and walks away.

I don't know how much time passes, but I'm getting real tired of this shit (!!!) and my muscles are sore. Thank God they gave me work gloves or I'd have blisters all over my hands.

Two dudes (I'm calling all the ranch workers "dudes") come in and one yells "puggy, my favorite throat. get over here, bitch!" the other guy walks over to me. "Name?" "brandon Sir." "Enough talk. Take out my tool and make it feel good!" Well this, I know I can do well. I open His pants, realizing how thick His belt is, and reach inside his briefs. It's hot and wet in there. No trouble finding the cock, it simply presented itself to me. Nice and smooth, I get it out and get a bit overcome by the smell, but what the fuck did I think? These guys don't exactly look like the bubble-bath type.

I worship this guy's dick as if it were the most beautiful and most tasty piece of cock in the whole world and I know the dude's enjoying it because he starts playing with my hair, even pulling it a bit. For a while, He wants to control my mouth. All I keep saying to myself is "surrender slave, surrender slave," and I must confess that after a while I start enjoying the size and shape of this cock and I wish they would all be this nice, even if they do smell. With no warning, He shoots a little bit of liquid into my mouth (this guy just have beat off already today). I make it a big deal like I'm swallowing a lot, and then lick the dude's dick clean and go to put it back inside his pants but he turns his back on me and takes care of it himself.

No sooner is that finished when I get hit across the shoulder with some kind of cane and when I react it get hit again. "Stand still, godddamn it, slave!" There are tears in my eyes but I do my best to stand still, still not able to see who's doing this to me. "Follow me outside!" comes the command and so I do. Geesh these dudes are built. I follow this dude around to the back of the building and He pushes me up against the side of the barn "You drink piss?" He asks. I shake my head no. "Fuck! Well just stand there, slave." And He takes a very large cock out of his pants and next thing I know, He's pissing all over my cage and around that area. ("I'm a slave. Slaves get pissed on."). Once He's done He brings me over to the next building. there's a hose on the ground. He turns on the water and then takes the damn hose and washes off His piss in the not-too-cold water. He makes a gesture for me to turn around and I do, and then I get hosed from the neck down and it feels so good, especially since it's not freezing cold.

A couple more hours of boring backbreaking labor pass. A couple guys have really gotten beat up with crops and straps, but so far so good for me. Next thing I know, the muscular guy has the other slaves and henry and collects us all and walks us toward what looks like the main building. The others know what to do. I just do the same thing: on our knees with our backs up against the building. thank God it's shady here.

Muscular guy stands in front of me to explain. "It's lunchtime. the hands are chowing down inside. When they're done, if any of them feel like it, he'll let you buy something to eat." I look puzzled. Muscular guy gives me a nasty smile, "You buy them with lashes. they'll ask how many before they put the food in your mouth. If they like your answer, they'll feed you then whip you with their belts. Suggestion: anything less than 3 will get you nothing."

And so we wait. I'm asking myself if I'm really all that hungry. If anything I'll bid low and see what happens. The "marketplace" begins. Soon enough, a young-looking guy comes to me with half a hot dog on a bun. "How many?" He asks. "Three," I answer. He walks away. Next guy brings a piece of cornbread. "How many?" "4" "Plus a blow job" I nod. He lets me eat the corn bread from his hand. it tastes so very good. Then He points to the stockade fence near by. "Wrap your arms around the upright pole, bending over a little, and don't let go. If you let go, the lash doesn't count and we start again from 1" Shit! I go and wrap my arms around a post, bending about 45 degrees. I hear the belt whipped from the dude's pants. He doesn't waste any time. 1, 2, 3, 4 one right after the other and by the time my back can register the first lash, all four have been laid upon me and I scream out a cry and the dude chuckles. "Worth the corn bread?" "It would be if you bring me another piece?" I feel like I'm bargaining at an open bazaar in Morocco. "That will depend on how good you can take my 7 inches." He opens his pants and I open my mouth and throat hoping that Master's training will help me out here. A little past my gag spot. But He puts it in slowly and orders me to make sure I get Him wet. In and out, a little deeper each time and I think I can handle it. Lots of pre-cum is lubricating my throat. He gets to where I might have trouble but I will myself open and He breaks right past it and I'm able to hold back choking until He pulls all the way out and then I let it go. "more," He says. I open wide again and this time He shoves Himself all the way in and I can't help choking and gagging and now tears are in my eyes. "You're doing fine, slaveboy, and you're cute with tears in those pretty eyes of yours. Let's keep going. Ill make it easier for you as long as you keep those tears coming. Damn! No tears from my strap, but tears from my big hard cock! And true to His promise, He fucks this slave's face but doesn't go all the way down again and we do just fine and he really hollers out when He shoots His cum down my throat. Quickly I lick him clean after swallowing it all. "Go kneel by the side door of the kitchen and I'll bring you your reward. I might even dunk the cornbread in the gravy. Would you like that, pretty faggot?" I almost speak but remember to just nod my head and smile. Sure enough, in just a couple minutes he brings me down this awesome feast of gravy and cornbread in His hands and I eat from them as if I'm a hungry dog. Some dude walks behind me and next thing I know I'm getting a good swift kick to my balls and almost upchuck. "Hey Bret, get away. I've got this fag for Myself." Bret kicks me again and I double over in pain. He kicks me over and whips off His belt and starts pounding me all over as I scream and writhe in the dirt. Then He turns to the guy who gave me the cornbread and says, "That's how you treat a faggot when it's sent here. Don't baby the slaves. They're here to be punished!" And He storms away.

"Sorry about that," the nice guy says, and extends a hand to help me up. Now I've got almost as many marks as I did that night with Jack and Jake.

His buddy (I think) comes by and says, "Wow. Bret really marked up this newbie." "Sure did," answers my guy. "Hey, let's bring this slave over to the wood shop and hide it away for a while." And they both help me up and then one of them attaches a leash to my collar and they pull me down a path and into a door that leads to a darkened room that's rather cool. "I think you should suck off my pal here to show your gratitude for us rescuing you from old Bret!" my guy says, and I lower my eyes and obediently open my mouth to receive a slender, smooth cock that doesn't taste of too much sweat but does smell a little pissy. My goodness, these cowboys! Know nothing about personal hygiene. I make slow sweet love to this guy's unit and he responds with sweet talk, the first I've heard since yesterday. Meanwhile my cornbread guy takes out His cock and starts to piss all over my whipped back and ass. "Piss is good for welts," He tells me. I'm not sure that's true or not but I'm powerless to stop him, and after I swallow the other guy's cum, He, too, pisses all over the front of me. The other guy laughs, "this is our favorite thing to do, pissing on slaves! Now close your eyes cause I wanna cover your face with my piss too" And so I do and after he's all finished pissing on me, the two guys stand there and keep spitting all over my face and slapping it as well, and they rub the piss and the spit into my face. One of them says, "See, we know how to work over a slave and humiliate it to death without having to mark it up with welts and cuts. Now put that pissy face to My asshole and lick it clean, boy, or I will take off my strap." I dread this cause these guys aren't very clean, but much to my relief, this guy's asshole tastes sweet. He washed himself good before coming over, I guess. "That's it, slave, eat it good. Eat my nice sweet ass made clean just for your mouth. Eat it harder, slave!" Damn! These two guys can play with me all afternoon if they want!

All of a sudden we hear a bell ring. "Oh shit! Leroy's gonna whip His pedophile again."

Dragging me by the leash, they rush to the front of the house and there is a slave, about late 40's I'd say, tied spread out across the fence and a guy dressed in leather standing there with a vicious looking whip. Leroy speaks: "For those of you who don't know, this slave was caught trying to molest a young nephew of a friend when he stayed over here a few months ago. Told his uncle I'd take care of justice right here. So once a month this lowlife gets strung up and whipped then put back into confinement in a cell with holes so it can suck off whoever wants it and drink piss as well. Once a month it's let out into the open air here, and it gets whipped while everyone watches.

And it begins. I confess it turned me on at first, but then went way off the charts for me and I tried to just block it out once the guy was screaming and starting to bleed. Finally Leroy says, "enough!" The poor creature is hosed off, cut down and two men carry it back into the house and I don't know what happens after that. The cornbread guy is playing with my hair and whispers to me: "One year. Twelve months in the hole. Twelve whippings. don't know what will happen to it after that." "I hope the fuck he sells it to some coal mine somewhere so it never sees the light of day again," says Bret, and hearing his voice, I immediately makes sure my eyes are on the ground, but wondering why Master Leroy keeps Bret around.

Next: Chapter 84


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