Can you believe the tension between Rhett and the members of The Masters Club? , Rhettt seems to "naturally" accept doing whatever is asked of him to earn their praise for being a "Good Boy." And, Henry feels the boy's usefulness will be for the long term. So, is everybody happy? This is how it's going to be? Are you sure?
(I hope you donate to Nifty to help support it.) More of my stories are posted on GayTies.com. You may write to me. I always reply to my fans. Bruce Darkforce.
The Masters Club
Chapter 7 of 8
They heard him sobbing into Burton's asshole. He was trembling beyond his control to stop. The Masters loved his involuntary body movements even though they told the boy to do better at controlling all movements. Right, control the uncontrollable!
When Burton rose, Mahmoud recognized Ass Licker was at his maxim exhaustion. He had nothing left. He nodded to the other Masters, signaling they needed to proceed to the main event. The boy needed resolution.
Rhett was sobbing non-stop, he still held his hips up, and Whitmire was still fucking him agonizingly slow, which was driving Rhett crazy. No one was sucking or even touching his frantically twitching dick. It was uncontrollably oozing globs of cum. This is what they wanted. A blubbering, sobbing, dizzy-headed, controllable boy-object to continue to enjoy, use, and abuse.
Unlike the five other fuckers before him, Whitmire held back his climax as he continued his slow fuck. While no one touched Rhett's bobbing, dancing dick. Other men, who did not participate before, stepped up and began sucking the boy's toes while still others licked his balls. One guy stooped way down to lick and tongue the boy's asshole around Whitmire's fucking dick. This was far more intense than Rhett's experience the week earlier at this same bar. Another two men took his hands away from his ass cheeks and stretched out his arms straight out and slightly up toward his head to give full access to his armpit. A couple of Masters' main turn-ons were licking armpits. Hey, you can't deny a Master his favorite erotic act.
"Such a `Good Boy'." One Master said.
"AAAAAHHHHHHHH!" Termmors corsed through the boy's body.
Then, a few others started a deep-voice, soft chant, "Such a Good Boy,' - Such a 'Good Boy,' - Such a Good Boy,' - Such a 'Good Boy,' ..." It was like a ritualistic incantation. ALL these husky male voices joined in, gradually getting louder and louder, "Such a Good Boy,' - Such a 'Good Boy,' - Such a Good Boy,' - Such a 'Good Boy,'..."
Rhett's body was in automatic, responding as hypnotized to do. He seemed like a lively fish on hot concrete.
"AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!" Rhett screamed out as his body jerked and trembled and shook uncontrollably.
Jenson, never satisfied with almost maximum stimulation, kicked it up a notch. He brought out tit clamps from his pocket and placed them on those puffy, sore, tortured nipples. "AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Was all the boy uttered.
The boy was floundering, even though his ass was still pegged by Whitmire's big long, slow-moving dick. Rhett's body jerked and spasmed. "AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" All eyes were on the boy's bobbing, dancing, twitching, energetic dick. They watched what they called the dance of erotic torture. If only one person would show the tiniest bit of mercury and place one fingertip on the gyrating dick tip, he'd blast off.
But no. And no one spoke. This was the culmination, at least for this week, of all the Masters well-planned and coordinated efforts. The Masters were not as strong as this boy. They all had their dick out and stroked themselves. Except for Whitmire, whose slow fucking became extremely slow to torture the lad further since he now wanted, craved, and needed a hard dick to slam into you, just once would do it. Too bad it's not Rhett's call.
Louder now, "Such a Good Boy,' - Such a 'Good Boy,' - Such a Good Boy,' - Such a 'Good Boy,' ..." Yes, it's their ritualistic incantation. These deep manly voices, contently chanting, "Such a Good Boy,' - Such a 'Good Boy,' - Such a Good Boy,' - Such a 'Good Boy,'..."
Then, all the men nodded to each other when they just had to shoot. Whitmire suddenly began to fuck Rhett's asshole as hard as he could, nudging the table an inch or two with each thrust slamming fiercely into the boy's hole.
Louder now, "SUCH A GOOD BOY,' -- SUCH A 'GOOD BOY,' -- SUCH A GOOD BOY,' -- SUCH A 'GOOD BOY,' -- SUCH A `GOOD BOY'..."
Just then, Jenson pulled sharply in the chain of the tit clamps. And giggled it.
"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!" All those holding him let go of all his limbs at once. Rhett looked like he was having an epileptic fit, with arms and legs jerking and twitching. His dick bobbing and jerking and oozing.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!" The boy's dick exploded, shooting volley after volley upward and a bit toward his own face. Cum rained down all over their new slave, Ass Licker. It took a while for the blasts to stop and for the boy to go from a rapid flailing to a more gentle, constant tremble accompanied by low, horse-raspy moans.
It was funny to see Ted take the basket of rolls from the bar counter and pass them around. Masters took pieces of rolls and dipped their bread into the mixture of cum and salty sweat pooled and globed on Rhett's belly, chest, and face.
After a time of smiles and quiet, George spoke up. "I think he's getting dehydrated." Others nodded. George stepped to the head of the boy, pointed his still exposed, long floppy dick at Rhett's open mouth, and began to piss, thankfully slowly, pausing to allow the boy to swallow comfortably.
Then, a whisper, "What do you say?"
"Thank..." was all he could utter. The boy was not passed out but quite unaware. For him, the room was spinning.
"OK, Ass Licker, how about some real refreshments?" Mahmoud asked.
Rhett was exhausted, drained of emotions, strength, and energy, "Oh, fuck, yes, please."
The Master knew what this meant and lined up at Rhett's head. Jenson was the next to piss, followed by Mahmoud, Jessie, and the rest of the board members. All were careful to piss slowly and stopped periodically to allow for the boy to swallow.
Jessie, who was usually more involved in conducting these events, finally stepped forward and held "it" up. It was a black leather slave collar with chrome studs and a weird-looking locking mechanism. "Gentlemen, are we all in agreement?" They applauded.
"Then let's proclaim Ass Licker, our official slave," Jessie shouted, then he turned to Rhett, shook him to alertness, and helped him off the table. He stood for a moment, belched loudly, then lost his balance due to dizziness. He managed to get on all fours. "See? He knows where he belongs." They all laughed. "Kneel up, Ass Licker." And the boy did. Jessie fastened the collar around Rhett's neck.
None of the previous three slave trainees ever earned a collar while serving the members of The Masters Club. They just didn't become important to these men. Rhett did so in one week. It was amazing!
"Ass Licker, we will build you a cage and kennel at an unknown location. However, most of the time, you will be with one of us five board members or one of the regular members and rotated weekly."
Rhett raised his hands and fingered his new leather collar. He was so elated and proud. "Oh, thank you, Sir. I thank all of you, Sirs." And he sobbed, not believing his extraordinary accomplishment. Several Masters hugged him to calm him down, but he would not stop crying.
Mahmoud whispered to all, "Let him be. He needs to drain his emotions. After all, he needs his rest for Sunday's meeting, which will be more challenging." Everyone knew what Mahmoud meant.
After Rhett was allowed to rest all day Saturday at Jenson's mansion, Master Jenson brought Rhett back to the bar mid-day, when it was closed. He brought Ass Licker with him, naked and collared, of course. It was the regular first Sunday of the month meeting of the Board of Directors of The Masters Club, held in the back room. The Masters sat evenly spaced around a six-foot diameter table. All five men stripped to the waist in preparation. Jasper was there but not seated. His job was to video record Rhett's progress, that is, his descensions into full depravity and blind obedience.
Mahmoud, who was the Master in charge of the training details, addressed Ass Licker, who was kneeling naked, waiting. "Under the table." The boy quickly scooted there, now surrounded by five pairs of bare feet, five pairs of naked legs, five exposed, relaxed dicks, and five pairs of hairy balls.
"Yes, Sir?"
"OK, Ass Licker, you are new, you haven't interacted with all of us very much, and that will change. And the other seven members will also get to train you in time. But for now, I want you to be intuitive. Look at each of us, what you can see under the table, and try to please each of us, one at a time. Use your mouth on whatever body part you think will give us the most pleasure."
Ass Licker was confused, thinking this was a big guessing game. But he'd try. "Do you know what will happen if you displease one of us? Or, if you need to improve on your technique?"
"Yes, Sir. You'll ZAP me."
"Partially right. But you will get ZAP." Mahmoud told him, and then, without looking under the table, he put his hand there and held out a small grey plastic device. The boy had never had a good look at it before, but he knew it was the remote that shocked his balls. Ass Licker didn't understand what to do until Mahmoud said, "Take it." And the boy did, being careful not to touch the button that would shock him.
"Now, if any of us have to give you instructions on how to please us orally, you will be ZAPPED. But we are too busy to ZAP your balls, so you will ZAP yourself. Understand?"
"I... I... I'm, not sure if..."
Look, if anyone tells you how to use your mouth better, you will immediately say, Sorry, Sir,' then you will ZAP your own balls. You have five seconds to recover. Then you will say, Thank you, Sir, for letting me punish myself.'"
Rhett did not know if he could push the button to intentionally send a shock through his entire body. It was asking a lot! "Your goal is for us to make no comments about your work. Let us conduct our club business meeting, and you give us constant pleasure. As long as we have no need to correct you, you are doing fine. You are being a Good Boy."
AAAAAAAHHHHHHH! He got an instant boner and knew not to touch it. "Oh, thank you, Sir!" Rhett felt the erotic sensation from hearing those two magic words. He began with the dick of the Master just talking to him, Mahmoud.
"Ass licker, I just want to feel your mouth and tongue, not your hands."
"Sorry, Sir." Then, "ZZAAPP!" It was a quick shock, but Rhett howled in pain, rolling on the floor under the table. Moments later, "Thank you, Sir, for letting me punish myself."
The meeting continued, and Rhett was doing the best he could. He had to guess what each Master wanted. When he got to Jessie, "Ass Licker, when you suck on my balls, do it much lighter. My balls are sensitive."
"Sorry, Sir." Then, "ZZZZAAAAPPPP!" This time, he gave himself a longer shock. He did not recover as quickly as instructed, but the Masters overlooked that duration error. "Thank you, Sir, for letting me punish myself." And he continued without being further instructed. Japer was mostly on his knees, videoing the boy's oral work and self-punishments. The Masters did not want him to get frustrated. In fact, they occasionally began to use the `Good Boy' phrase, which delighted Rhett and motivated him to try harder to be more precise in giving them pleasure. It's the old carrot and the stick, and it worked!
The Masters were Masters at manipulation. Yes, they have to push a boy and push his limits, yet there is a limit to limits. It's a step-by-step evolution. Yes, all five of these Masters, the Board of Directors, as well as the other seven regular members were all very good at guiding any new boy in submissive slave. Some boys took to it well, like Rhett. Others did not and had to be cut free after their finances were looted. Rhett was something special, and that's why this particular meeting was held.
Burton spoke up, "Mahmoud, your concerns about Ass Licker are understandable, but we have all of his assets, his money, his dad's 401K, and his monthly income payments from three sources."
Rhett was now sucking Jessie's big uncut dick, but he was hearing everything as Jessie was moaning in pleasure. The boy understood they were talking about him, but he didn't care.
"And in a few days, we'll take him to the DMV and transfer his car into our club's ownership."
Jenson spoke up, laughing, "What the fuck is he going to do with a car? Drive us around town as our chauffeur, collared and naked?" They giggled. "I suppose we'll have to get him a cute chauffeur's cap," More chuckles. Rhett loved his 2002, fire engine red, classic Chevy Camaro. His dad bought it for him. He tried to think about when he first got it, but now, there is a magnificent big dick in his mouth. And the most important thing was that he heard Jessie's continuous moans. He was so excited. So was everyone else. Rhett's dick slowly, continuously seeped slave ooze. And that was OK with the Masters.
"Jessie seems to be in heaven," Henry said. By the smile on his face, our boy under the table must be doing very well. Is that right, Jessie?"
"Ah fuck, guys, Ass Licker is one fucking valuable Good Boy."
AAAAAHHHHHHH! "Thank you, Sir," came a voice from under the table. So they knew he was listening.
"Yeah," Mahmoud spoke up, "We'll need to cancel his job, contact his girlfriend to get her out of the picture, and disconnect him from another other social shit he used to be involved in."
"What will we tell the girlfriend?" Geroge asked loudly, just to mind-fuck their new slave.
"Well, let's just tell her the truth. Rhett is now a gay fagot ass licker who sucks dick and licks toes and gets fucked up the ass. AND LOVES IT! We'll tell her he our Good Boy."
AAAAHHHH! The others repeated as a loud cheer, "YEAH, HE'S OUR VERY GOOD BOY!"
From under the table came another, "AAAAAHHHHHHHH! Oh, fuck. Oh, thank you, Sirs! I am so fucking unworthy. But you are taking such good care of me. Giving me such wonderful privileges! Thank you, thank you!"
Mahmoud put his hand up to quiet the others. He wanted to speak directly to Rhett. "Ass Licker, do you hear me?"
"Yes, Sir."
I want you to stop servicing us for a moment."
"Oh, fuck, Sir. Did I do something wrong? Please, please, let me continue."
"You're fine," Mahmoud told him, "But I was thinking how Dr. Jenson went out of his way earlier to put you up, help you, work with you, do some initial training with you, and so on."
From under the table came a "Thank you, Dr. Jenson."
"Yes, I want to give Dr. Jenson a little present. It will be from all of us Masters to Dr. Jenson. But I need your help, Ass licker. Is that OK?" Mahmoud said,
"OF COURSE SIR!"
"Great. Thank you, boy. Here is our gift. I want you to shock yourself really badly. I mean, I want you to hold that damn buzzer down for 10 seconds. Yes, it'll hurt, but that's the point. Your suffering will not only please Dr. Jenson and the rest of us but also make you a very Good Boy."
"AAAHHHH, Sir. Thank you, Sir."
"Wait, you need our permission to give this gift, and so you have to beg me, beg all of us. Unless we say it's OK, you can't shock yourself."
The voice spoke up from under the table, "Yes, Sir, Please let me give
Dr. Jenson is the gift of a painful shock. I promise to do my best and endure it with a smile."
Rhett had his thumb on the shock remote button and waited for approval from Mahmoud... from anyone. "Please let me shock myself. Please, kind Sirs."
Nothing.
"Please? I'll do a really long shock, and even if I pass out, I won't let go of the button. Please. I really need your approval and permission."
Nothing. Rhett began to cry. It was incomprehensible that he would not be allowed to please these Masters, especially his dear, kind Dr. Jenson."
But nothing.
In a frustrated sobbing voice, he began to scream, "FOR FUCK SAKES! PLEASE LET ME SHOCK MYSELF. YOU GOD DAMN BASTARDS, I'M PLEADING, BEGGING YOU ALL. FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" This was the ultimate rejection. Their silence. "DAMN YOU! FUCKING PLEASE. I NEED TO BE IN PAIN, AGONY. I NEED TO BURN MY BALLS OFF! FOR FUCK SAKES. I CAN'T STAND IT. OH GOD, MY SWEET MASTERS, I AM NOTHING WITHOUT YOUR APPROVAL. I LIVE TO PLEASE YOU. GOD DAMN IT!' And he cried and cried.
Still silence. None of the boys' profanity bothered the Masters. In fact, it pleased them immensely! They were pushing him beyond his limits. They knew he absolutely hated being shocked, and yet being shocked was his most craved desire. Beautiful!
Rhett was going to shock himself anyway. He had to do it. It would give all these Masters tremendous pleasure. Dare he do it without permission? Now, he was sobbing loudly, uttering slurred words. He mumbled, in a pleading whisper, "Please. Oh my fucking god, just this once. This is the only thing I will ever ask of your most kind and generous Masters. Grant me this tremendous pleasure of pleasing you all, and please, please, please let me shock myself. I don't know what I'll do if I can't fry my balls in agony. Please."
Then his voice became squeaky and small, like a mouse, "Oh please, I only want this one opportunity to please you, oh please, my kind..."
"OK," came the soft, calm whisper from above the tab
"ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPP..." Rhett flailed all over the floor, arms and legs jerking and wiggling like he was made of Jello. Yes, they all put their heads under the table to watch. Even though he passed out and the shock button was involuntarily released, he continued to jerk and twitch.
As the boy began to come to, he found himself on the table, on his back. The Masters Club members loved a slave boy in this position. Someone said, "SURRENDER, and the boy, even in his incoherent state, somehow stretched to grab his ass cheeks to spread them to expose his hole and then raised his legs up high and spread them wide apart as previously instructed. But that was his last command for the day. He could rest, deeply rest. He had nothing to do. No task, no responsibility. He was not even a person, just an object, a toy. A cute, adorable, sexy "item" of pleasure for these Masters.
Unbeknownst to Rhett, Mahmoud went to the boy's head and, putting his hands at the boy's underarms, slid his body so his head was slightly off the table edge, with his mouth relaxed open and receptive. Mahmoud was readying his dick for insertion straight down his throat.
To be continued.....
There is one final chapter left, and it is already completed. .... IF ANYONE CAN GUESS HOW THE STORY ENDS, I WILL GIVE YOU A FREE DOWNLOAD BOOK CONTAINING SEVERAL OF MY UNPUBLISHED STORIES (145 pages with photos.) Your guess must answer these 3 questions: What happened to The Masters Club. What happened to Rhett. And what happened to all the money in the Master Club's offshore accounts. You must submit your guess before Chapter 8 is posted (in a few days). Submit your guess (or other comments) to Bruce Darkforce at gaydic@gmail.com
I can pick out a book for you, or you can go onto https://www.gayties.com/ , then click on "Bookstore," and select your own book there. There are 17 to choose from. No trick, it's free.
I hope you like this story and its shocking ending. I have many others I want to share with you. But most of my stories are too intense and graphic to be approved for inclusion on Nifty. So they are posted on gayties.com. (You have to join, but membership is free.)