Willing Slave

THE WILLING SLAVE, Part 13

By Pete Brown petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

Read all of Pete's stories at groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories

The tattooist worked away all that afternoon but still hadn't finished. The vet told me that he had agreed with my owner that I should stay there that night as it wasn't worth my running home, and he showed me to one of the small rooms that were there for patients who needed to stay overnight.

It was a long time since I'd known the luxury of sleeping in a room by myself without the constant background noise of other guys breathing, farting, and making all those little cries and half-moans that they do when they're sleeping and dreaming. It would have been even better if I'd been able to jerk off, but I was still bandaged, so I just had to lie there and try to sleep without doing so.

It was funny showering in the morning without another naked slave next to me, too, although the vet did come and watch me. "It's good to be able to see a really 'in shape' guy like you", he told me. "So many of the slaves I get in here are ill or injured, that it's a real pleasure to be able to observe muscles like yours. After you're out, help yourself to slave chow, and then go back to the tattooist, where you were yesterday.... I'm afraid he's got a lot more to do yet!" It was nice to be treated like a regular guy by the vet, and I suppose it cheered me up a bit to know that he wasn't exactly in agreement to what my owner was doing to me.

So I had another day lying there on my belly as he worked away, and by the end of the afternoon I had ceased to feel anything - the incessant pricking of the needle had so dulled all the nerves in my back that I no longer noticed the discomfort caused by the tattooing.

The guy was really proud of his work, though, and looked admiringly at me. He told me to stand in front of the tall mirror, then held up a hand mirror so I could see what he'd done. Right across my shoulders, stretching from side to side, I now bore the word "Slave". Half way down my back, with the bottom of the letters touching the top of my ass crack, was "Steve". But, if these were not enough, the most striking feature was the huge design, in mixed green and black, which now swirled all around these words, covering my back and shoulders, and extending down my arms as far as my elbows. It was the kind of "kelp" design of large leaf-like things, and two tendrils went on past the "Steve" above my ass to trail down onto my ass cheeks themselves. From the back, I was completely decorated, I realised, but from the front the only hint of this would be the signs of the design on my biceps.

He slapped me appreciatively on my ass, and told me to get back to the vet's office.

The vet, too, took a long look at me and whistled softly in amazement. "Well, It's certainly striking, Steve. People will certainly remember that they've seen you, and so I suppose that your owner has got his money's worth - people will talk about the way he uses a slave! But, as I said, he's almost destroyed your value for any other job, so I guess you're a pony for life: no one would find the prospect of having sex with you very attractive - or, at least, they wouldn't be prepared to pay money for it in one of the sex shops, where they could get 'conventional' good-looking studs instead. Never mind, though - you like being a pony, don't you?"

Again, although I didn't like the subject matter of the conversation, I warmed to the vet who was at least trying to have a regular conversation with me. I kind of half grinned, and replied "Sir, yes, sir - that's what I've been trained for."

"Just as well. Now, sit on the edge of my examining table, and let's take a look at that dick of yours."

I did as he'd told me, and he gently removed the bandage from my dick. I was used to seeing my dick head, of course, but the rest of my dick was a bit of a shock - there was a big scab, but the oddest thing was the colour: from behind my flange, to where the scar started about half way down my dick, the skin was a much, much lighter pink.

The vet gently examined me, and commented "Well, that's fine. The scab will drop off after a couple of days, and there wont' be any unsightly scarring as I did a very clean cut with an exceedingly sharp scalpel. I'm sure your owner will be pleased... It doesn't still hurt, does it?"

"Sir, no, sir. But.... Sir, can I ask.....?"

"Yes, Steve?"

"Sir, is it going always to be a different colour, sir?"

"Oh, that. Well, it's all pink at the moment as it's not usually exposed to the air or anything. It will darken, of course, and it will be quite like your normal dick colour. But haven't you looked closely at other 'skinned guys? Often the part behind the head is a paler colour than the rest of it - it's quite normal, and nothing to worry about."

Well I hadn't really looked at other guys' dicks in that level of detail, actually. Where I was brought up, you didn't do that sort of thing. And I'd never been one for looking at pictures of naked guys on my brothers' PCs. Still, the vet seemed to know what he was talking about, and I supposed I'd have to wait and see what happened.

The vet didn't put the bandage back on again, but gave me a jockstrap to wear under my slave shorts to jog home in, saying that it wasn't a good idea to let my dick rub against the fabric of the shorts until I was completely healed. It felt so odd running like that - I suppose I was used to "hanging free", unless I was wearing the tiny silk pouch that my owner had decided was to be my new uniform.

Back at home, the other slaves were still not speaking to me, and they hardly looked at me as dressed in a T and shorts I didn't look all that different from usual. But when I stripped off to get into bed in the dorm that night, there were gasps of astonishment, and they all clustered around to exclaim at what had been done to me. They even commented on my 'skinning, and one of them said that I was "just like them", now, as, in common with most slaves, they had all been 'skinned at birth.

I saw Jack looking at me with the others, but he didn't speak at all. And I didn't much care - I thought of pulling him into my bed again, but remembered that I wasn't supposed to wank or fuck, and so I just lay there and tried to sleep.

As we were all dressing the following morning, the Overseer handed me a tiny silk pouch rather than shorts and a T, and told me that my owner and Master Scott were back, and that they wanted to inspect me. I crossed the yard to the back entrance of the mansion, and a serving slave escorted me through the hallways and up the stairs to the suite that I remembered as being the one the two men shared.

As we went along the corridor I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror, and saw that the tiny white silk now really served only to emphasise the changes that my owner had had done to me. It was so thin at the front that my dick, with it's thick flange, was clearly outlined. "Slave" and "Steve" stood out in dark black on my front, and I knew that from the rear the whole kelp pattern, and the words, would be completely visible as there would only be the thin string of the pouch providing any covering at all. My tit rings and nose ring glinted under the lights, and I knew I was no longer just a pony designed for hard work pulling a cart, but something else: an object that told the world that my owner was a rich man, a man of power, someone who could totally discard the value of a slave and have his body changed into something totally out of the ordinary.

The two men were in bed together when I went in, their naked torsos lying outside the sheets. They ordered me to stand close to the bed, and to turn around, and Master Scott told my owner how pleased he was that their design for my back had been executed so well.

"I thought we ought to wait and see the outline, have him marked-up whilst we were there, and then leave the inker to fill in the design. But there was no need - that tattooist really did a great job from the fax we sent. He's even more astonishing than that piebald pony we saw the other week, and I do like the way we've had his name spelled out like that, front and back - somehow the strong clear lines of those big black letters seems to contrast so well with the tanned flesh that it makes him all the more sensual."

My owner looked at Master Scott and replied "Yes. You really do have good ideas, Scott - I wouldn't have thought of all that. Mind you, it's probably cost me a packet, in the loss of resale value...."

"Oh quit moaning about money. Your dad can afford it - he doesn't keep you short, does he?"

"Look, Scott, you know my dad's getting tougher. He gave me a year to make a go of our business, as he really wants me to work for him. And the year's almost up, and although we've had all those meetings, we still really haven't landed a contract..... He's getting a bit terse with me, when you're not there. And that's another thing - you know he doesn't totally approve of you and me... And he especially doesn't like you sleeping here and fucking me under his roof."

"Oh, tell him to go screw himself! What does he expect you to do? Get a job that would make you bored? And if he doesn't like you living at home, tell him to buy us an apartment in the city - it would be a hell of a lot more convenient for the clubs and bars...."

As he said this Master Scott turned towards Master Jason and kissed him. I could see their legs twined together under the sheets, and almost got an erection as I thought how my own dick felt when I was that close to Jack. I also thought that their problems were as nothing to mine - they were thinking about money and such like, when my body had been mutilated by them: I was now ringed and inked all over, just to amuse them and to make a fashion statement. Didn't they think that I had feelings, or wanted to be treated like a man, not like an object, even though I was only a slave?

"Come closer, slave, and take that pouch off. Let's see how well the vet performed", my owner now said, and I took a couple of paces towards the two men as they lay there. I fumbled with the thin silk strings on the pouch, pushed it down, and stepped out of it as it lay in a crumpled heap on the floor.

Master Scott reached out and took hold of my dick, holding it in the palm of his hand and rubbing his thumb up and down it.

"It's a really good job, Jase. Take a closer look - there's no sign of a scar, and I can't feel anything as I finger the shaft."

Master Scott's stroking of my dick had made me start to go erect, though, and he looked up at my eyes as he continued to massage me. His gaze fixed mine, and I knew he was now doing it deliberately, gently tickling the exposed frenulum in a way that made me go rock solid, and to make me want to pull myself back from him as the sensation was too severe. A small smile played over his lips as he went on "He's got it right about the amount of skin, too. There's always a potential problem with a 'high and tight' 'skinning as we decided on - I've heard that some slaves never manage to get a full erection again, or, if they do, that it's really painful. But this one's fine - this erection is just the same as I remember it when he took part in our games recently."

As he said this he turned and kissed my owner again, and as his body twisted around the sheet fell slightly away so I could see his back and the top of his ass - he was naked in bed, not even wearing boxers.

So which of us is going to fuck him first?", he continued.

"Oh, Scott, do we have to? I'd rather fuck with you that take the slave."

"Look, Jase, we've been all through this - when you have a fantastic hunk of man flesh like this, you have to fuck it to keep it properly in its place. You've had the slave 'skinned and decorated so that he understands that you're totally in control of his body and his life, but you do need to reinforce it from time to time by fucking him. It's especially important in this case, as the Overseer tells me that the slave has taken to fucking in a big way - the slave is turning into an aggressive, dominant top. So if you and I take him forcibly occasionally, it will be doubly satisfactory: it's always amusing to fuck an ass that doesn't want to take a dick, and you're sending him the message very clearly about who's in charge!"

"I suppose you're right, Scott." As he said this, my owner threw aside the sheet and got to his feet. I was surprised to see that he wasn't at all concerned about being naked in front of me - I'd never seen his body before as it wasn't usual for masters to display themselves in front of slaves (well, except bath slaves and such like, I suppose. But I wasn't an "indoor" slave, and so had no experience of this). He didn't have a bad body - quite lean and in good shape for a man who was not involved in hard manual labour as I was - and I suppose his dick was an average sort of size, too. He strode off to the bathroom , didn't bother to close the door, and I could hear his piss hosing down into the water.

Meanwhile, master Scott just lay there, still looking at me, but now exposed as my owner had pulled the sheet totally aside. He didn't have a bad body, either, for a master, and he was stroking his dick, making it start to go erect. It was as if he was deliberately exposing himself to me, so that I could see the size of his erect dick (which, actually, was above average). My owner came back and saw him, and idly commented "Do I take it you want first fuck, Scott?"

"No, he's your slave - you go first, Jase....."

My owner looked at me, and started to play with his dick. "OK, Steve, this is as good a place as any. Face down on the bed, ass over the edge, and spread your legs...."

"Master, I...."

"Just do it, you fucking slave! Do I have to order you twice? Lie on the bed with your ass over the edge, so I can fuck you. Is that so hard to understand, or do you intend to disobey me? I think Master Scott's right - you are getting into bad habits for a slave, questioning his owner's orders!"

Now although Jack had fucked me and it hadn't been bad, since then I'd learned the pleasure of having my dick up an ass I really didn't want to be fucked. In fact, looking at my owner, I thought I might get quite a lot of satisfaction from forcing him down on the bed, kicking his legs apart, and thrusting myself into him! But then I stopped - what the hell was I doing? I was a slave, a well trained slave, and not only was I not obeying my master, but I was actually thinking about taking an initiative and doing something to my master that would pleasure me but which I knew he would hate! I flushed with shame at the thoughts going through my mind, and at once went and stretched my body out over the foot of the bed as I had been ordered to.

It felt soft under my chest - our beds in the dorm were hard - and I reached forward with my arms to lay them out flat, too. My fingers probed into the softness of the material covering the mattress, and I enjoyed the sensation.

My owner's calves brushed against mine, and his hand lay on my ass for an instant, until it moved and started to push my ass crack apart.

"Don't just lie there, slave", Master Scott snapped at me. "Get your hands back there and pull your ass apart to make it easy for your master to enter you! Don't they teach you anything at slave school these days?"

Well, actually they didn't teach me things like this. I suppose the slaves destined to be indoor servants might have learned it, but usually there was no need to teach it to pony slaves, was there? A master wouldn't usually want to fuck his pony.

I could feel my owner's dick pressing at my hole, and in spite of my hating the idea of being fucked, I was excited somehow - I guess it's always the sheer closeness of another man to you at times like this that's a bit of a turn-on - anyway, my body was responding, as my own dick was hard and it was quite uncomfortable for me as it was sandwiched between by belly and the bed.

Fortunately my owner must have been leaking pre-cum, as he made no other attempt to lube me - he just pushed at me until he was through my sphincter - no attempt to loosen me or massage me, or anything - just the slow, steady insistent pressure of his dick against my hole, until he was in. I know I gave a little groan of pain as it happened, but once he was in, he was really quite gentle, rocking ever so slowly in and out of me so that I had time to adjust to him naturally. I almost enjoyed it, and gave little grunts of satisfaction in time to his gentle thrusts.

It seemed to go on for ages, and Master Scott just sat there on the edge of the bed looking on. Occasionally he reached over and played with my owner's tits, and then Master Jase would moan with pleasure, and thrust a little harder into me. I guess Master Jase was, basically, a gentle person, as his fucking went on and on in this same, rather languorous way - until he cried out "Yes..... Yes..... Yes.....",

Unlike most other guys who fuck, as soon as he'd cum he pulled out of me rather than lying forward to press his body into mine, and he walked off to the bathroom to wash his dick.

I went to stand up, but Master Scott snapped "Who told you to move, slave? I thought you were meant to be a well-trained slave..... And don't such slaves wait to be ordered, rather than taking action for themselves?"

It was just as well my face was still pressed into the bed as he said this, as I started to flush with embarrassment - he was right, of course, and I knew it! I'd forgotten my slave training again, and I prided myself on being a good, obedient, slave.

"I think you need reminding of your status, slave", Master Scott continued. "You were just going to get a good fucking from me, but I think I can kill two birds with one stone now: I can punish you to remind you of your proper place, and the punishment will make you all the more.... the more 'receptive'.... shall we say?"

My owner had come back from the bathroom now, and Master Scott said "Hey, Jase... Do you mind if I punish this slave a bit, first?"

"Does he need it, Scott - my dad always says that you should only punish them when they really need it....."

"When are you going to get out from under the shadow of your dad, Jase? Don't you ever think for yourself?

This is your slave, not your father's. If you want to punish him, punish him - even if he's done nothing wrong! Part of the pleasure of owning a big tough hunk of man flesh like this is to be able to thrash it every now and then, just because it amuses you..... like this..."

I almost cried out as one of Master Scott's trainers slammed into my naked ass. Scott was a big, powerful man and he wielded the shoe with considerable force. It was totally unexpected, and I'd never felt anything like it before - the initial 'crack' as the sole of the trainer hit my hard muscle, followed by the stinging pain as it spread all through me. I had managed to stifle my noise, but I was unable to stop my reflexes from causing my body to jerk upwards off the bed slightly, before crashing down. I got another hurt then, as my hard dick slammed into the mattress, but again I managed to stifle my cry.

He carried on hitting at my ass, and he seemed very experienced at it as he struck one cheek and then the other, and moved the site of the blows up and down from the base of my spine to the top of my thighs. I had to really bite my teeth together to stop shouting, and I managed to control my body after the unexpected first blow so that I did at least lie there and take it like a man.

He struck at me sixteen times in all, and then he stopped. His breathing was very laboured from all the effort he'd put into it, and he almost muttered to my owner "There, Jase - see the pattern of the soles on his flesh? It looks good, all bright red like that, doesn't it?"

"Scott, he will be able to run, won't he? We've got to go into town today...."

"Oh sure - he'll be, shall we say, 'uncomfortable'. And they'll look at him even more closely as the marks of this beating will still be on him.... People will know we've punished him, and will know that he's a wilful slave and not a docile trained one.... But he'll be able to run. It's just that his ass will be aching, and he'll remember who's his boss."

"Now..... it's my turn to fuck him.... And that's going to be good, too, as he's properly 'tenderised' and as I slam into him, hell get all sorts of sensations....."

"Don't you want to clean him out first, Scott? My cum's leaking out of him..."

"Don't be so silly - it's only your cum and I'm used to that! You've stretched him and lubed him.... Now let me show you how you fuck a bit muscle stud like this properly...."

Well, Master Scott's fucking wasn't anything at all like my owner's! He wasn't slow, he wasn't gentle. He just forced his dick in, and then fucked away - hard, very hard. His pubic bone smashed into my tender ass over and over, and he was right - I was tender, and sore from the thrashing, so every time he made contact with me I hurt double. I could hear the '"slap", "slap", "slap" noise as his flesh collided with mine, and each time I got a fresh wave of sensation through me. But fortunately it didn't last for long, and Master Scott was soon shouting out in ecstasy as he shot his load up me, and pulled out.

I just lay there, sore and aching. I wanted to almost sob into the bed as I was so "down" - I was hurting, I was aching, but , worst of all, I felt completely "used" by the way the two men had just fucked me: they hadn't thought a bit about what I wanted or needed - I was just a piece of meat, a hole to be used for their dicks.

"That's one great fuck we've got", Master Scott said to my owner, panting and gasping as he did from the huge effort he'd put in. "I don't know why we haven't used his hole before - but I think that's all going to change from now on......"

"But Scott, we've got each other...."

"Of course, Jase...... You know I wouldn't go off and fuck another guy, as we're together. But this is a slave, and that doesn't really count, does it? We're partners, right? But a bit of variety is a good thing in any partnership.... of course I love fucking you, but a dick needs a bit of variety, if only to keep it fresh. I'd never fuck one of our friends, or a guy I picked up in a bar, whilst we're together.... But this isn't a man, it's a slave. Different rules apply - it's not as if I care about him, like I do for you: he's just there to be used, to provide a bit of fun. And, anyway, it's something we can do together - you liked fucking him too, didn't you?"

"Well, yes, it was all right.... But you know I'm not really into fucking, Scott. I love your dick in me, but...."

"Look, Jase, don't be stupid! I know you prefer to bottom, but you've got responsibilities, too. When you own a slave, particularly one who's getting beyond himself, like this one, you need to show him who's the boss every now and then. This buck never expected you to take him up the ass, and so he started to let his training slip, and started to act as if he was a man, not a slave! If he knows that he's going to be beaten and fucked regularly by you and me, it will make him think twice about his actions."

"I suppose you're right, Scott. But he's been such a good slave up until now.... I don't know why he's changed."

"It's sex, Jase. That's the way of the world. He used to be docile and obedient, and I guess he just wanked himself every night. But the Overseer told us that he's started fucking the other slaves, and that's what changed. Now he's discovered proper sex, he thinks he's like you and me, a master, in control of those men. So you need to teach him a lesson, remind him of who's really in charge. "

"I suppose you're right, Scott. You usually are. But we'd better get a move on - we've got an appointment in the City."

The two men went off into the bathroom, and I could hear them laughing and joking as they showered together, and shaved. I wondered what to do - I hated lying there, my ass aching, my dick trapped, and with their cum tricking out of my hole (I could feel little warm rivulets of it running down the inside of my thighs). But I remembered that when I'd gone to stand up a few minutes ago without permission, Master Scott had used this as the trigger to punish me. So I just lay there, and felt utterly miserable, and reflected on how my life really now seemed to be taking a turn for the worse.

The two men dressed, utterly ignoring me lying there, and I heard their morning discussion and the little jokes they shared - it was rather like the way my brothers and I used to treat each other in the morning as they got ready for school and college: they were great guys, and didn't treat me any differently just because I was going off to slave school. Remembering my former family life made me even sadder and more unhappy, and I was really down.

As they left to go down to breakfast, my owner remembered me. "OK, Steve... You can get up. You may as well shower here, and get cleaned up. Be outside, waiting for us, in twenty minutes."

"No, Jase!", Master Scott interrupted. "Never let the slave think that he's a man like you, not even for a moment. Of course he can't use our bathroom - they have showers in the slave quarters."

"Yes, Scott... But there's hardly time.... And he's got to clean out all our cum...."

"Look, we've just fucked him and thrashed him. I want him to think on about that all day, so there's no point in him taking a shower.."

"You, slave", he snapped, turning to me. "Wipe that ass juice and cum off your thighs, put your G on, and get out the front and wait for Master Jason and me."

I ran my hands up the inside of my thighs, and they were soon coated with the stinking mixture of cum and my ass juice. The men made no effort to give me any cloth, or anything, so I just had to rub my hands together to try to dry them. The stench of my ass juice assaulted my nose, and I felt utterly humiliated.

"Stop pratting around, slave", Master Scott snapped again. "Get that G on, and get out."

I pulled the tiny pouch up my legs and covered my balls and dick as best I could, and went out, through the house to the yard. I collected my cart, knelt whilst the Overseer hurried over and forced the hateful bit into my mouth, and went around to the front to wait for my owner and Master Scott. I didn't have long to wait as they soon came out.

"A really fast run to the tram stop, Steve", my owner said "We're a bit late, and we have an appointment."

That wasn't good enough for Master Scott, of course - even though, with my master's command I would have run flat out, he had to "encourage" me with the thin whip that was now a permanent feature of the use of the trap. And it hurt even more than usual - I'd got used to the sting as it slashed across my back, ass and thighs as being part of my normal life. But as it touched my ass that was still hurting from the thrashing I'd been given, it now hurt even more and I flinched with the pain.

It was hateful at the tram stop, too, as I could see all the other owners and ponies looking at me: I'd have been enough of a sight with my tattoos and wearing just my tiny pouch, but now I knew everyone could see my ass flaming bright red from the beating Master Scott had given me. They must all think that I'd been a very wilful slave, deliberately disobeying my owner, to receive a beating like that, and I hated the idea that they'd all think I wasn't a proper slave, with a good training.

After they'd got out of the trap I ran back home really fast, too - not just because I wanted to avoid the stares of the people in the streets, but because I wanted to exhaust myself, to try to take away some of my misery by sheer hard, physical effort. I arrived back covered in sweat, my heart racing, and my lungs heaving as they sucked the air in. Even though the exercise hadn't made me feel all that much better, at least the symptoms of the effort kept my mind from harping on to how unfair it was for my owner and Master Scott to treat me like this.

The Overseer was there to greet me, and he wrinkled his nose a bit as he approached: I realised that the heat of my body and the sweat that was now pouring off me had mixed with the cum and ass juice that I hadn't succeeded in getting rid of from me, and was making its presence felt! I reeked of sex, and of unpleasant bowel smells, and I blushed with shame as the Overseer looked at me.

"You filthy animal!", he said. "I'm not surprised your Master Jason decided to beat you. Haven't you forgotten your training, that a proper salve keeps himself neat and clean at all times?"

If the bit hadn't been pressing my tongue down I know I'd have protested at the unfairness of it all - I couldn't help being covered in ass juice and cum when my owner didn't let me shower after he'd fucked me, could I? But perhaps it was as well that I was silenced "mechanically" by the bit - a slave doesn't argue with a master, does he, even when he knows he's right? Even as I thought this, I saw that I was falling into another error - a slave can't "know he's right": he's there to obey, to serve. Even if a master is capricious and unthinking, it's not up to a slave to even think critically of his behaviour.

"Get over to he vet's again", he went on. "Your owner had been on his cell phone from the tram, and has arranged a little further decoration for you."

I was already depressed and fed up, but as I heard these words my spirits sank to a new low - hadn't they done enough to turn me from a handsome, regular-looking guy into a decorated beast? What could they have in store for me now?

End of Part 13.

THE WILLING SLAVE, Part 14

By Pete Brown petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

Read all of Pete's stories at groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories

The vet was his usual gloomy self when I arrived. "Nothing for me to do to you today, Steve:, he told me. "But your owner has hatched up something new with the tattooist. Although I can't see there's much more can be added to you, with all that stuff over your back and shoulders, and your decorated front. Still... scoot along down to the room you were in last time where he's waiting for you."

He wrinkled his nose then, and added "But you'd better take a quick shower first - you stink unpleasantly, and I don't want that smell filling my office."

I was so ashamed, even though it wasn't my fault - I prided myself on being a proper, clean slave, and being criticised like this, when I hadn't been given the chance to clean myself up after I'd been fucked, was almost more than I could bear. But there was no point in moping, I knew, and it was really good to actually get clean in the vet's shower.

I entered the room where the tattooist was waiting with some trepidation, as I hated being disfigured. "Get that pouch off, and let me see your dick", he snapped.

I wondered what on earth was going on, but I was here at my owner's orders and so I had to obey. I undid the string holding the tiny satin triangle to me, and stood there facing him, totally nude.

He reached out and took my dick in his hand, holding it in his palm and stroking his thumb up and down it - I resisted getting an erection with all my might.

"That vet did a good job 'skinning you", the tattooist commented. "But your owner's got some strange ideas - I've never done this before. Now, I need you to be hard - get an erection."

He was continuing to stroke my dick as he said this, and I felt it stir into life. Even though I hated being handled in this way, just as if I was some kind of sex toy, my reflexes took over and I was soon rock solid.

"Hmmm... ", the guy said. "I can see why I've been commissioned to do something.... All this fresh pink skin behind the cock head really spoils the look of you. Now, get and lie on the table there, and I'll start."

I did as I was told, and the tattooist drew up a chair and sat beside me. "I need you to stay erect whilst I work on your dick", he said. "If that's a problem for you, I'll get the vet to come in a give you a shot of Viagra, or something. Do you think you can manage it?"

"Sir, please sir.... You want me to hold an erection whilst you work on me.... Are you going to be inking something on my dick, sir?"

"You're exactly right, slave. Your owner doesn't like the contrast between your dark dick head, the pink of the newly-exposed skin on your shaft, and the rest of your dick. So he's commissioned me to ink the whole of your shaft, except the head! It's going to be turned a deep black, from the root, to the underside of your flange. But in order to do it properly, I need it hard all the time - if you go limp on me, it might look OK when you're not erect, but will be a bit patchy when you're sporting an erection... And I guess your owner likes to see you like that most of the time, doesn't he? Well, at least, I would, if I owned a fine piece of man flesh like you - I'd have you naked all the time."

I could tell I wasn't supposed to comment on my owner's views, but I was concerned about staying erect. On he other hand, I didn't like the idea of being drugged. So I just said "Sir, I think I can stay hard, sir. And if I do start to flag and it makes your job difficult, sir, I'm sure that if you let me wank myself for a couple of moments it will go stiff again, sir."

"But, sir, when you did my back and my chest, it hurt - well, not hurt, exactly... It was very uncomfortable. I'm concerned that when your needle touches my dick, especially the very sensitive area just behind the head, I'll flinch, sir. Look, sir, I know I have no choice in this, I know my owner has ordered it, so I have to go through with it, sir. And it's not that I'm worried about pain, sir, as I'm a fairly tough guy. But, sir, I don't like the idea of possible spoiling your work if you do something that makes me flinch - I might try to pull away, quite involuntarily, sir."

I felt a small sense of pride go through me as the tattooist then said "It's good to hear it! Some slaves don't like it when their master orders radical inking for them. But you try hard to hold that erection, and I'll give you something to desensitise your dick temporarily...."

He held a can near my dick and sprayed something out of it - an analgesic, I suppose. It was icy cold, as aerosols are, and I squirmed as the spray hit my sensitive areas. "OK, slave, now I'm going to start", he said. "Try to hold still."

Well, I suppose it wasn't all that bad, and it didn't take all that long. It was very, shall we say, uncomfortable, as the needle stabbed in and out of the really sensitive flesh of my dick, but the spray he'd given me took the sharp edge off it. And I didn't lose the erection, either - the guy was constantly pulling my dick from side to side as he worked, and he kind of got a grip on my dick head to do this, and it was enough to keep me hard.

Looking down over my body as I lay there I could see my dick, but I couldn't really see the full effect as the tattooist's hands were mostly in the way, and the blood oozing out of the many needle holes anyway tended to obscure things a bit. But when he wiped me clean with a wet cloth and told me to stand up and look at myself in the mirror, I gave an involuntary gasp of horror.

I've told you I've got a big dick - long and fat, and something a guy could be really proud of - and I have to say that the 'skinning had even improved on it as my really meaty dick head, with its thick flange, was now even more prominent. But now I thought I was disfigured - my deeply-coloured reddish-purple dick head was now at the end of a thick, jet-black shaft. It looked almost like something foreign or alien, stuck onto the rich, golden tan of my pubic area and hanging there over my tanned, low-hanging balls.

"Your owner's certainly got some good ideas", the tattooist was saying as I stood there in horror. "I've never done a whole dick jet black like that before! Still, it does make the whole thing the same colour, doesn't it - no contrast now between where you've been 'skinned and the rest of it. I've only ever tattooed a slave's name onto his dick before, and it was quite interesting to have to do the whole thing."

"Now", he continued, "It will be sore for a couple of days... So if I were you, I'd try not to jerk off or fuck..... Unless your master commands it, of course."

"Sir, yes, sir."

"Well, I'm all done. Get dressed - if that' s what you call that pouch - and be off home."

I pulled the tiny satin triangle over me, knotted the string at my waist, pulled the third string up my ass crack and twisted around to tie it at the back. As I did so, I saw myself in the mirror again - my new jet-black dick was plainly visible through the thin silk of my G-string. But what was worse was the overall impression I got of myself - I used to be a tanned, muscled, handsome guy, even though I say it myself. Well I was still tanned and muscled, but you could no longer call me handsome - the swirling designs covering my back and dripping down onto my forearms and my ass, the huge words on my chest and belly, and the large gold rings hanging out of my nipples and dangling from my nose all combined to make me..... Well.... Some sort of fetish object. I was no longer a man who happened to be a slave, I was now the result of a man's decision to turn me into something else, something exotic and strange, something where other men looking at me would know that I had absolutely no free will, and was merely the toy of my owner.

My mood of depression - and, perhaps, anger - was still with me when I got home. But I had no time to spare, as the Overseer told me that my owner and Master Scott had called and that I was to go immediately to the tram stop. I suppose I ought to have been concerned about the way my blackened dick was now almost prominently on display through the thin fabric of my G, but I'd reached the point of thinking "So what?". The sight of myself so totally ornamented had shocked me deeply, and I think I'd really stopped caring. As it was, I knelt in front of the Overseer as usual as he put in the hated bit and locked its metal holding strap in place behind my head. Now I felt even more like a mere animal, totally deprived of the ability to express myself.

When my owner and Master Scott came out of the station, they stood in front of me and looked at my body. "We hardly need to have him stripped to see his dick now", Master Scott told my owner. "Although I think we should take a closer look, and perhaps give him another good fucking, when we get home."

My owner didn't reply - I knew from the previous time that he didn't really want to force his dick up into me, and that it was only on Master Scott's insistence that he did so. The two men climbed into the trap, then with the expected harsh snap of the whip on my naked ass, we ran home.

I was covered in sweat as usual when we arrived, and Master Scott called to the Overseer to have me hosed down and sent up to their rooms. I went to kneel as I always did in front of the Overseer so he could more conveniently reach the lock holding my bit in place, but Master Scott told him to leave it as "It stops him making all that noise when we fuck him."

The Overseer told me to take off my G, then whistled softly to himself as he caught his first full unhindered sight of my black dick. But he didn't say anything, as I suppose he didn't want to appear to be disloyal to my owner, and simply fetched the hose and held it whilst I washed myself quickly and crudely under it. Somehow, as I cleaned myself, my dick no longer felt really like a part of me, it was so alien.

Of course I could feel it, and it reported the sensations of my hands on it as I washed myself, but as I looked down it just didn't seem to be a part of me.

The Overseer gave me a clean G to wear, then led me to the house and up to my owner's suite. He knocked on the door, and Master Scott answered and led me inside.

He and my owner sprawled on one of the huge couches with a couple of beers, and I was told to strip. Almost wearily I untied my G and let it fall to the floor.

"Wow, Scott, that's amazing...", my owner burst out. "I thought your idea of the tats on his back were good, and when you suggested having him 'skinned I went along with it. But now... Look at that big black dick on a white guy! It looks as if he's had some bizarre transplant! It really makes his dick noticeable, doesn't it.... Not that it was hidden much before, as it's so big."

"I think we ought to have him displayed even more", Master Scott replied. "Lets' have him totally naked when he's around here, and only let him wear the G when he's on the public highway. Now, though.... Who's going to fuck him first?"

"Oh, Scott, do I have to? He knows now that we're totally in charge of him - look at that body of his, 'skinned and decorated to our designs. He doesn't need my dick up him to remind him that he's a slave and I'm his owner. No....."

Turning to me, he said "Get back to the slave quarters, Steve. I've no need of you tonight."

I think Master Scott saw the change in my body language as he said this - I kind of relaxed, as I hated the thought of being fucked.

"NO, Jase. I think this slave's still not really used to the idea that he's totally under our control sexually as well as for his normal pony duties. I've got an idea....."

He went to the phone and I heard him talking to the Overseer - I only caught the word "pony", and I thought it referred to me.

The two men carried on talking to each other, ignoring me as I stood there naked in front of them, until after a few minutes there was a knock on the door. Master Scott opened it, and came back into the room with Jack behind him.

Jack saw me standing there and almost gave a little gasp of astonishment, but managed to stifle it. He was wearing his normal T and shorts as his owner - my former owner, before he gave me away to his son Master Jason - treated slaves properly. No! My brain had done it again! I was thinking that my former owner treated slaves properly, and that implied I was thinking that my new owner, Master Jason, treated me improperly! I'd learned over and over at slave school and in my training at the ranch that it's a slave's duty to obey his owner in all things, and that whatever your owner commanded was correct.

"Strip", Master Scott commanded Jack, and Jack complied instantly, pushing his shorts down to the floor in one easy movement, then stripping his T over his head. As he reached up, we could all see his dick flex slightly as his taught belly muscles contracted as his arms raised.

"I wonder if your dad would give us this one, too?", Master Scott said to my owner, with a smile. "He's obviously younger than your pony, and not yet as well developed - it would be good to put him through a proper exercise programme and see those muscles fill out as he matures. About the only thing he compares properly with now is in the dick department - I think his is as long and thick as your slave's."

"Do you like fucking, boy?", he went on, addressing Jack.

"Sir, yes, sir."

"Have you ever fucked this other pony here?"

"Sir, once, sir."

"Why only once?"

"Sir, he doesn't like it, sir. He's a top, sir."

"So has he fucked you, boy?"

"Sir, yes, sir."

"Did you enjoy it, boy?"

"Sir......". Jack hesitated.

"Answer me, boy!"

"Sir.... No, sir.... He was very rough, and he forced himself on me, sir."

Master Scott looked at my owner and smiled. Then, turning back to Jack, he went on "Well now's your chance to try again, as Master Jason and I want to see this slave being fucked. And we want to see it for a good long time...."

"You", he snapped at me. "Put your hands behind your neck, then bend over the back of the couch and spread your legs."

I knew something dreadful was going to happen to me, but I couldn't disobey a direct order from a master, could I? So I did as I was told, and stood there, bent at right angles, and very conscious of my exposed balls and dick clearly visible between my spread legs.

I heard shuffling and movement behind me, and realised that Master Scott was guiding Jack towards me. Then master Scott's had rested on my back, as if to hold me down - he couldn't do that, of course, if I'd chosen to stand up as I was much stronger than him, but this pressure was I believe symbolic, to indicate that he was keeping me there.

"Right, slave", he said to Jack. "Get your dick well up this ass. No.... You keep your hands behind your neck, too: I'll guide you in. The slave's not lubed, so I want to see a vigorous thrust from those thighs of yours when I tell you...."

Master Scott's hand came off my back, and I was utterly humiliated as I felt him pull my ass cheeks apart. I don't care if he is a master - one man shouldn't do that to another, should he, unless both guys are playing? Then there was the touch of something hot against the tender skin of my pucker... It must be Jack's dick, I knew, as I heard Master Scott say "There, slave..... I've put your dick tip right where it should be... Now.... PUSH!"

In spite of having the bit preventing me from speaking, I couldn't help but make a loud grunting noise as Jack's dick forced its way in to me. My body tried to move forward to get away from it but I was right up against the back of the couch, and all I could do was stand there and take it as the pain of a dry dick going up an unlubed ass went right through me.

"Good!", I heard Master Scott say. "Now, slave, slide in and out of him once or twice to really heat up his hole and get the juices running.... But don't you dare cum, as I need you to keep going for a long time...."

The pain from my ass got worse and worse as Jack thrust in and out of me once or twice, and I gurgled and moaned as it was so unpleasant.

"Now, you, pony..." Master Scott was speaking to me again. "Stand up, slowly. Don't dare try to push the boy's dick out of you."

"And you, boy", he went on, "Wrap your arms around the pony's body and hold him close to you - I want your hard dick to stay inside him, understand?"

"Sir, yes, sir", Jack almost grunted in reply.

We struggled for a few moments, and then were both standing upright. I could feel Jack's body all hot against my back, and was very conscious of his dick filling my hole. His arms were wrapped around my chest, and I could feel them slipping slightly as the sweat flowed off us both.

Master Scott now spoke to my owner, and said "This is a trial for another game I thought we might play the next time we get together with our friends and their slaves.... The idea is to see how much cock snot a slave can be made to deliver..."

"Cock snot?"

"Yes - pre-cum. The idea is that the pony is stimulated, without his dick being touched, to make him start to leak pre-cum.. No, let's stick to the term cock snot as it's sounds more fun and less anatomical... The pony is made to leak cock snot, it's collected, and the one who delivers the most in, say, half an hour, is the winner."

"You, boy.... Start to locate the pony's prostate with that cock of yours, then gyrate your hips and do whatever else you need to, to massage it with your dick head.... I want the pony kept aroused, understand? And don't you dare cum up him yet - you've got to last at least thirty minutes, or else I'll thrash you. Understand?"

"Sir, yes, sir", Jack gasped indistinctly, as his face was pushed hard into my shoulders.

I felt him start to move, and it was unbelievably erotic. Not only was his dick moving around inside me, but his hard, muscular body was moving around inclose contact with mine. His pubic hair was scratching my ass gently, his pubic bone was against my muscular ass cheeks, and I could feel the faint scrape of the light thatch of the hair on his pecs as it moved against my broad back. In spite of feeling utterly humiliated by it all, my dick seemed to have a mind of its own and I went into a hard erection, and Master Scott and my owner both shouted with glee.

Jack went on and on moving around against me, and I was getting incredible sensations from my ass. Although I was blushing furiously at the embarrassment of being used in this way, I couldn't help myself.... To my horror, I saw a small bubble of pre-cum start to appear from my piss slit.

"Here it comes", Master Scott shouted. "Here's the first dribble of cock snot. If we can persuade the others to play this game, I think we'll have a sure-fire winner with your pony, Jase."

"Oh tell him to stop, Scott.... That snot's going to fall on the rug, and it will stain...."

Master Scott went into the bathroom, and came back unrolling a condom and blowing it to it to inflate it.

Without asking me or anything, he snapped the condom over my rock solid dick - I felt his hot fingers laying around with the tip of my dick, and I was so sensitive that I bucked my hips in a kind of ecstasy, and almost dislodged Jack from my ass. He didn't put the condom on properly (we'd learned about these at slave school, although I'd never had to wear one: they were considered to be a bit of a joke, as we were told that no man would want to dull the sensation from his dick), but simply snapped the open end behind the head of my dick so that the flange held it on, leaving the body of the thing handing down obscenely in front of me.

"There", master Scott said to my owner. "I knew we'd find a use for those things that your dad bought you one day! Fancy him thinking we'd actually spoil our pleasure by covering ourselves in that disgusting latex - even the smell is foul! But look how his cock snot is dribbling down inside it - we can watch as he carries on generating it, and see how much he produces."

"Right, slaves. You have thirty minutes", he said to both Jack and me. "I want good, continuous stimulation from you, boy - keep his prostate excited!. And you, slave, you make sure that you keep dribbling snot - if you push the boy out of you, or cum, I'll beat you as I did the other day. I want a good load of cock snot, with no actual cum. Understand?"

"Sir, yes, sir", Jack gasped, as he was doing a lot of work to keep moving against me. All I could do, of course, was to make a kind of grunt in response, as I was cruelly unable to utter even these simple words.

We stood there like that, with Jack playing the part of a human dildo to stimulate me, for half an hour. My owner and Master Scott kept up an almost continual commentary on the state of my dick, and the way the cock snot, as they now both persisted in calling it, was pouring out of me. They started to play with each other, and within a few minutes had dropped their jeans and were jerking each other off. I couldn't understand how they could do this in front of Jack and me, but then of course I realised that, to them, it was as if we were not there. They'd probably never jerk each other off in front of two other guys, but we were mere slaves and so didn't count.

Of all the ways they'd found to use me, this was almost certainly the worst - I felt totally humiliated, and, adding to this, was the fact that I was actually quite enjoying it. Somehow, taking pleasure from something that ought to be hateful made it far, far more awful. Here I was, utterly demeaned, being used as a "game" and as a stimulant to two masters' love making, and I was turned on by it all.

When it looked as if my dick was flagging a bit, Master Scott called out to Jack "Reach up and pull his tit rings to excite him...", and Jack of course did as he was told. His hands slid up over my pecs, and he started to jerk and tweak at my nipple rings. My body bucked and thrashed under this stimulation, and he had to grip his arms even tighter around me to keep his body in contact with mine. Master Scott and my owner laughed as they saw my reaction, and, just at that moment, Master Scott's manipulation of my owner's dick at last caused him to shoot a load of cum, to be followed shortly by Master Scott's as my owner's hand finished stimulating him.

Both men lay on the couch gasping slightly and playing with the ropes of cum that stretched between them. When they'd recovered slightly, my owner said "Wow, Scott.... That was fantastic. Having these guys perform is a real turn on...."

"Yes, Jase.... We'll do this again. Now, I think we've seen enough, don't you?"

My owner nodded, and master Scott told Jack he could stop moving, but was to remain up my ass. He slid odd the couch, came over, and pulled the condom off my dick.

Walking back over to the couch, I heard him say to my owner "See, Jase - pure cock snot. Look how thin and watery it is compared to a load of cum. Interesting, isn't it, how much he can be stimulated to produce. Shall we see if he shoots as big a load of cum now as we've just shot?"

"No, Jase - I want to shower, and go down to dinner."

"But the boy deserves something", Scott replied. "And I think there's been something going on between these two."

"Right, you two", he went on "Keep in him, boy. And you, slave, back and lie over the couch".

We kind of sidled across the floor, and I lay there again, my hands still behind my neck and my rock hard dick pressing almost painfully into the hard leather of the couch.

"Do you want to fuck his ass properly now, boy?"

"Yes, sir! Yes, please, sir!", Jack rapped out crisply.

"OK, then - fuck him!"

That bastard Jack, I thought. He'd had no choice but to stimulate me for the last half hour, as he'd been ordered to do so. But he shouldn't have agreed to fuck me - he knew I hated it. But as soon as Master Scott had said OK, he' started to go at me - his knees pushed against my legs, forcing them apart to give my ass maximum exposure to him, and he began a vigorous pounding away at me, almost pulling out completely on each stroke and then slamming into me. I grunted in time to is strokes, as that peculiar mixture of discomfort, pain and pleasure went through me every time his body slammed into mine. After all that preparation he was obviously on the edge, because it only went on for about ten thrusts before he stopped, and I heard him gasp "Oh fuck, yes... Jesus... Yes....." And I knew he'd shot up into me.

He pulled out of me, and stood there looking a the two men, who were laughing at the display.

"See, Jase", Master Scott said "Remember how you were at eighteen, how wonderful it was to be that vigorous, and how you could take an ass like that?"

"Speak for yourself, Scott... Some of us can still do it like that...."

The two guys were laughing at each other, and Master Scott broke off to tell Jack to go and clean his dick in the bathroom, then to get dressed and get out of there. I went to stand up, but Master Scott's happy mood at once turned to fury.

"You fucking slave, you don't learn, do you? Who told you to get up? Slaves don't in initiate action, do they? Suppose your owner or me wanted to fuck you, and you'd already got up?"

He was right, of course. I couldn't say anything, because of the bit, but I felt a hot flush of embarrassment sweep over me and my face burned bright red under his perfectly justified rebuke for my actions. I lay back over the couch, and Master Scott came up to me.

"I ought to tan your hide again, slave. You know that, don't you?"

I tried to grunt "Sir, yes, sir", but not much came out.

"Oh leave him alone, Scott. It's almost dinner time. Send the slave out, and let's shower and dress.... You know how my dad hates us to be late. He thinks we're up here fooling around, and you know he doesn't like the idea of us having sex...."

"Right, slave, stand up, then!", Master Scott commanded, and I straightened, and stood in front of him. He held out the condom, half full of my pre-cum, and went on "Right, take this.... And drink it."

I almost shook my head, but my slave training just stopped me. But not before Master Scott had seen my hesitation.

"What's the matter, slave? It's your cock snot, so it's all right. Anyway, even if it was someone else's, it would still be all right - perfectly wholesome. And, of course your master has told you to do it, so you don't have any choice, do you?"

I knew I was wrong, and, even though I hate the idea, reached out and took the condom from him. I put the open end into my mouth and ran my fingers from the tip, expelling all my collected pre-cum into my mouth.

It was cold and not very nice - generally more pungent that a proper load of cum - and with the bit holding my tongue down I had difficulty in getting it all down my throat without gagging.

Master Scott laughed when he saw my problems, but finally said "OK, get out of here!"

I went to pick up my tiny silk pouch and put it on, but he went on "No... we've had a good idea. There's no need to conceal yourself around the estate here, as it's only us and your fellow slaves looking at you. I only want that pouch on you when you're taking us on the public roads in future. Now, get out."

I hated walking through the house with my dick bobbing up and down in front of me, and a couple of the house slaves who saw me even laughed when they saw me - had I really become such a freak, I wondered? I was also bitterly conscious of the reek of sex coming from me, and knew that they would know that I had just been used in some degrading way.

Back at the dorm for the outside slaves I went to the Overseer's office and knelt in front of him, expecting him to take my it out. But instead he snapped "No, Steve. Master Jason called down a few minutes ago, and he's decided you're going to wear the bit permanently. He likes the idea of having you muted. So get off to bed."

Was there no end to what was going to happen to me, I wondered - wasn't it bad enough that my body had been modified and I looked like a freak? But was I now going to be permanently deprived of the ability to even talk with my fellow slaves? I knew that with the bit pushing my tongue down all I could do was make inarticulate gasping noises, and even those occasions when I could talk to Joe as we pulled the mower were now going to be denied to me. I was in a pretty foul mood when I went into the dorm, and my fellow slaves, who'd all been chattering away, fell silent when they saw me.

"Hey, Steve, man.... I'm sorry.....". Joe had got up from his bed and come over to me, as I stood there in the doorway.

"Jesus Christ!, that's some sick joke they're playing on you, man! I know you've got a nice big dick, and that's supposed to be the speciality of black guys, but having your dick tattooed to make it look like a black's is going a bit far. Why did they do it?"

I went to answer Joe, to say I didn't know, really, other than that it amused my owner and Master Scott, but of course the words wouldn't come out.

"Oh fuck - they've left your bit in, too. Don't tell me that you've got to wear it permanently...."

All I could do was nod at Joe, to let him know that was the position, and he went on "Look, I'm really sorry - I don't think it's right to keep a slave muted as you are when he's not working.... But, what can you do?"

Jack then cut in "Well, I think it's not a bad idea.... He's been disobedient and wilful lately, and perhaps making him keep his opinions to himself will give him the humility a proper slave needs. And I think his dick was inked like that so that no one would willingly go with him - who'd want to play with a freakish thing like that, when there are plenty of nice, proper ones around.... As he knows, after what we did a few minutes ago."

As he said this, Jack (who was naked, too, as the slaves were preparing for bed) waggled his dick up and down in front of me. I was really pissed off by this - did he think any of this was my fault, or something?

I went to push past him to get to my bed, but he went on

"Perhaps we ought to give you a new name, Steve.... Now that you've got that big black dick, I'm going to call you 'Sambo' in future. So what do you think of that? Oh, you won't be able to tell us, will you, as your owner has decided to keep you muted, as he can't trust you to respond only as a slave should to his owner's questions...."

This was too much for me - I went to carry on towards my bed, but he now had one hand on my shoulder preventing me from moving. His other hand went down and he took hold of my dick.

"Yes, this feels just like a black man's dick, Sambo.... I do hope they buy a black slave here next, so you and he can fuck.... A big, black dick in a black slave's ass....."

Well, I know it was wrong. But I was so frustrated, so provoked. I couldn't even shout at him. So I hit him, hard, lashing out at him with my fists. He fought back, of course, but he was no match for me - I was bigger, stronger and tougher, and was in an absolute blind rage. He tried to fight "scientifically", but all I wanted to do was lash out and hurt him, and I did - I pounded him almost to a pulp, until he was half senseless. Then I dragged his supine body to the nearest bed, threw him down on to it, and fucked him!

This was no friendly fuck as two guys have together - this was my big, rock-hard dick just forcing its way brutally and without and preparation into his asshole as it was available to me as he lay there. The other slaves tried to stop me, but after I'd lashed out at them and struck a couple of them very hard so that they careered backwards and fell to the floor, they gave up. All I could feel was a totally consuming rage, a rage fuelled by the unfairness of it all. I'd always tried to be a good slave. I was a good slave, properly trained. I knew what a slave's role was, and I did it to the best of my ability. But my owner didn't appreciate it and had turned me into a decorated animal, denying me even a scrap of cloth to cover my nakedness, and having me obscenely decorated. And I'd been used as something to bring them sexual pleasure - made to dribble cock snot as my ass was stimulated, then to drink it. And this other slave, a slave who I had worked with, and liked, was now taunting me......

I fucked and fucked, and even in my state of complete helpless rage I could see that I was hurting him - although he was almost senseless from my violent attack, he was making whimpering noises and cries, and was trying to move his body further onto the bed, in a vain attempt to escape the powerful thrusts of my dick. But I didn't care - indeed, the fact that I was inflicting on him the pain that I felt (although his was physical, and mine was in my mind) gave me a huge sense of satisfaction and fulfilment. It wasn't just the tightness of his ass gripping my dick that was pleasuring me, but the feeling that I was totally dominating him, I was in charge, I was controlling this slave who, a few moments ago, was taunting me and who had fucked me as I lay there in front of my owner and Master Scott.

I'd have been happy to go on fucking and fucking, but of course the inevitable happened - I felt my balls start to constrict, and then I shot a huge load up him. That made me stop my thrusts, and I stood there, my dick buried up to the hilt, my back arched in ecstasy, and I gave a great cry of triumph - except, of course, that all that came out was an inarticulate gurgle because of my bit.

I then pulled out of him, and stood there, my dick dripping with his ass juices, looking at my fellow slaves. I wanted to say things like "There's more of this, too, for any of you fuckers who mock me....", but of course I couldn't. However my whole stance, the rage I was still radiating, my body language.... I think it said it all, as they all backed away from me.

Except Joe, that is. "You stupid cunt, Steve! Get to bed, and let us try to take care of Jack..."

When I hesitated, he snapped "Bed, NOW, Steve, before you make a disaster any worse. Look what you've done to Jack..."

He went to gently push me towards my bed, but I was still in the heat of passion and rage. I struck out at him, and then, when he didn't resist, I started to pound my fists into him. Although he 's a big, strong guy, I was younger than him and more powerful. He made no attempt to resist, and I used him just like a punching bag, pounding into him over and over, until my arms were utterly exhausted.

At last, I stopped. and started to come back to reality, and I looked down at the body lying there on the bed. Jack had curled up into a foetal ball, and was lying there, quietly sobbing and hugging himself as if tying to make the pain go away. Joe was flat out of the floor, his arms clutched around him, to try to take away the pain from the brutal beating I'd given him. Something inside me flipped, and I was filled with remorse for what I'd done. I went to bend over and touch Jack, to say I was sorry....

But neither Jack nor Joe wanted me near them. So I slunk away, went and got into my bed, and lay there. I could smell my sweat, my cum, and Jack's ass juices and I knew I must be staining the sheets, but I didn't care.... I wanted it all to go away, I wanted to blot out the last few minutes, I wanted everything to be right in the world, as it used to be, when I was a happy slave, doing his proper duty by my previous owner. I tried to sleep, but couldn't - and anyway there was a lot of disturbance as my fellow slaves took Jack and Joe down to the showers and tried to get them cleaned up.

It's funny, though, isn't it? However much you feel you're not going to sleep, if you're really exhausted - and I'd had a tiring day - and especially if you've just emptied your balls, sleep does come and I fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.

End of Part 14.