Date: Tue, 6 Nov 2012 09:24:14 -0800 (PST) From: Aihu Fist Subject: SHACKLED LOVE IN BRAZIL 13 by Aihu Fist SHACKLED LOVE IN BRAZIL part 13 By Aihu Fist The entire event had escaped the attention of Josh, who had been sound asleep. 666 woke up half an hour later, worried sick about what would happen when the kid woke up, and would ask all sorts of questions. So, he decided while he still could, to clank him into the remaining shackles in the other corner of the stable. Most irons had been replaced with leather, now that the family had decided to run this slave depot in a professional way. It had to become a state of the art breeding/screwing place; the unspeakable place. Holding the young man so close to him, brought his own rod back to life. He raked his nose through the soft but thick shock of hair and lightly stroked the smooth bum of the limp body. Once he sat the boy down, he locked his hands up in the leather shackles, which were pinned above his head. To finish the job, 666 threw big amounts of straw over the preacherboy's naked body and went back to sleep in the opposite corner. Next thing, at dawn, dad and Rubinho were greeted with reasonable anger and questions?The stable, however, was still dimly lit, and Josh, the second captive, who was clanked to the wall in the middle; well, his face was not visible at all. He lay on his side muzzled, his head covered with a jute bag. -What have you done to me??? Where am I, who are you? Who is that one with the bag over his head? And you there, who brought me here, you bastard, let me goooooooo! They let him rage and rant, and when he was out of breath, dad calmly replied. -You are part of my slave stock, you had better get used to it. Don't waste your youthful energy in pulling those chains too often, because it is futile, and screaming will not help you either, for no one but us, can hear you! The youth, stripped of his missionairy dignity, fumed and raged on for another few minutes. Then, he the seething stopped abruptly and he spoke:-A slave house, huh? -Yeah, you don't like your new home and neighbours? Dad asked, mockingly. Jay was gobsmacked and didn't know what to say anymore. His eyes filled with fear and hate for his new situation. -My folks will come and look for me, he snapped. -Yeah, why not? Dad chuckled. Did you leave a phone number? Nobody knows where you are, no one has seen you come in here. And now you have no clothes and sit here bare arsed in the straw. -Wow, this is really tough shit, Jay said, trying to sound self-assured and not frightened. -Actually, dad said, you will get a better idea what it is to be a slave then what you white preacher men have taught you. Barely 200 years ago, your Mormon forefathers were up into their necks supporting the slave trade. Rednecks you were, and still are! You were nothing but a bunch of lying hyenas fighting the Blue Coats. All was said in Portuguese, and with 666 having a basic command of its, not all talk was wasted on him. Rubinho only interfered to tell him to stop whining in plain English, like: -We fuck you idiot, shut the fuck up, something he learned from 666. The latter occasionally winked at him and put his index finger on his own lips, trying to soothe the beautiful youth. Dad continued his rant: -Not everyone gets a chance to experience this. You, pretty boy, however, will experience it firsthand. Unfortunately, we will not let you tell it to the world. Let's hope that you live not to tell it. -What is this idiot saying? Jay asked 666. 666 improvised:-Slaves were chained to the wall, but they had no clothes on, so that the master could inspect any of them, at all times, 666 answered. Slaves owned nothing, not even the right to wank themselves. At that, 666 and dad exchanged glances of conspiracy. Mormon Josh, couldn't say anything at all, he was still asleep. Someone must have drugged him last night, before 666 came in with Jay on his shoulder. -That's a bit extreme, isn't it, the youth asked apprehensively. Jay had a nice sun tan, with the hue of honey, which he must have acquired on the beaches of Porto Seguro. His long eyelashes, gave him that androgynous look which drew so many to David Cassidy. His body was perfect: a photogenic face and a pair of toned bicepses, the result of months of workouts. His thighs had some of those ballet dancer muscles worthy of a young Nijinsky -666, ask him, dad spoke. -You need help Jay? Gringo asked and offered him a spliff. -I don't smoke, Jay said, shyly. -Come on, Jay, it'll make you feel good. Jay shook his head wildly. -No smoke? I don't think, dad said. Dad and Rubinho moved closer to Jay to inspect the youth from up close. Rubinho carried the horse whip and clenched it strongly in his right fist. -There is much to learn about a martyr's life, boy, dad spoke. Here you will learn all you need to understand the true meaning of suffering, the suffering; you so much preach your saviour had to endure to free the downtrodden. Rubinho didn't have to be instructed anymore what to do in moments as these. He had learned quickly how to master and domesticate unruly white boys, and how to turn them into willing slaves, either through blackmail or through sheer force and brutality. FEBEM had been the mould for his sadistic personality. His Masters degree, he would soon get from dad, god willing. Dad casually picked up the chains and said: -Gosh those shackles are heavy; no wonder they couldn't run, dad said dryly. How do you feel, boy? Rubinho repeated the question in broken English. -I beg you, sir, let me go?I have nothing against black people, believe me, Jay begged. Did dad see the slight manifestation of tears welling up?was this boy going to cry? -Yes, I know how it feels, buddy, dad said. Gringo focused on the heavy hairless nutsack which had straw sticking to it. To adore the round arse cheeks he had touched last night, he would have to be patient until dad and Rubinho were 'done' with Jay. Dad and Rubinho had noticed the big erect cock in 666's white silk briefs, which mum had bought for him recently. It was a gift for good behavior, because she wanted to enjoy each and every curve of her favourite pet's posterior. 666 had become the house slave. In the olden Brazilian colony days, a house slave stood a little higher on the ladder of slave hierarchy, but he could easily end up back in to the precarious situation of his beginner's days, that is, if he messed up with the house slave etiquette. Mum could touch him each and every time she wanted, when dad wasn't there. If he disobeyed any of her sexual whims, she surely would make up an excuse and lie to send him back to the stable without clothes, and make him work and around the house with not much to eat. She would make him sleep on the bare floor. No straw for him, no washing until he smelt like a pig. She would then make him sleep with the pigs in the sty. -Get up, gringo de merda (shit Gringo, get up), Rubinho said. The tip of the whip caressed the snout of Jay's wrinkled foreskin. -Hey what are you doing? Jay asked. Rubinho didn't answer, but had the whip twirling around the skin. The skin retreated and out came the head, like a tortoise from its carapace. -That's it, Rubinho nearly squealed. Now get on your feet, as I tell you. Quick, I am your master for as long as you are here, and this whip you will teach you how to obey very quickly. Jay didn't understand what was expected from him, but the whip did the talking better than any utterances from this Negro boy's mouth. The whip's end lay right on the urine hole for a few seconds and fell off it once Jay rose to his feet. Gosh what a prize this gospelboy was. Now that he stood upright with his hands still in shackles it was plain to everyone in this stable that he was something to be possessed, and the sooner the better. His rod wasn't stiff at all, probably too scared to feel anything of an arousal. Rubinho winked at 666, which was the indication to make the boy smoke the spliff. -Jay turned his cheek to the fag. -I am no drugaddict, he hissed at 666. -And not gay either? Rubinho piped. By that token he grabbed Jay's bag of balls, lifted it and left them to teeter on the broader part of the whip, which was half way. The first half, he had managed to shove past his arsehole. -Now smoke idiot! Smoke if you want live, Rubinho said. He didn't mince his broken words. Dad dressed in a vaquero shirt, hat and boots on, shone with pride. Yes, he was proud of this adopted son, who did all what dad enjoyed in his wildest dreams. He had a boner that wanted to escape the coarse jeans, he was wearing. Dad had no briefs on, he wanted his dick to be free to rise and fall at whim. He felt how horny his dickhead was brushing against the metallic zipper. It ached a bit, but he didn't mind at all. -Mister, Jay stammered, please, you must stop your son, he is committing a grave sin, he will go to hell. Surely, you wouldn't want that? Dad said: -stop you y'r whining, just smoke that fag. If you don't smoke this instant, my son will pound your arse with this whip. And let me remind you that my son is your master, boy. He does the questioning here. Dad had trouble keeping his hands to himself around the young man, who was five years younger than 666. -He's a fine specimen, a fine piece of work, indeed. My congratulations, 666. This one here will give you some respite. As he is younger he might be more whimsical than you, less knowledgeable than you. And you, son; what about the dispenser, how big and full is that? Have you checked it properly? -What did he say? 666 asked Rubinho, who just shrugged his shoulders and did not bother to interpret one bit. At last the Mormon took a deep drag and inhaled all he took in. He started coughing, but 666 thrust the spliff back between his lips. -One more, Jay, come on, it'll be better for you, 666 said. Like spoonfeeding a baby, 666 coaxed him into 3 drags more. The boy got a light head and produced a smile who made him even more angelical. -I think we can take the cuffs off his wrists and feet now. Don't worry, son, he won't run far, Dad said to Rubinho. -Sim (yes), Rubinho piped. -The dilated irises proved that the drug was working and that this boy would soon enough give up all resistance. When 666 had taken off all that would have hampered the manipulation of the youth, dad finally grabbed Jay's dick and yanked it hard. Jay didn't even yelp as much, he only stared and smiled at 666 and said: Thanks mate, for this? -Don't thank me yet, gringo answered. You don't know who I am, yet. -Go and get it, Dad ordered Rubinho. Rubinho ran his legs off and was back in a split second. -Where's the muzzle and the pacifier? We bought a dozen of them yesterday, dad asked. -Right away, dad. Jay looked at me and slurred his words when nearly crying:-Please, guys what is this? -Nothing to worry number, boy. Just keep quiet. Masters have ways to punish their slaves. - Is this is some rehearsal for freshmen's artistic sadism? -Cala boca (shut up), dad repeated, and put his hand over Jays' voluptuous mouth. Rubinho stood by his dad and handed over the muzzle with pacifier. The cage-like muzzle fitted Jay's face like a glove; the black latex pacifier, a hand long, was shoved through the appropriate hole and parted Jay's mouth evenly. The whole thing was held in place with Velcro straps, clasping his skull just above the nape of his neck. The slave could only bite or suckle on it, but not speak anymore. At the most, a grunt or a moan was all he could utter. His eyes were blinded with huge blinkers in front of them. Only ears, nose, and mouth were visible, which served only one purpose: one could pull at the earlobes, nose, or tongue to inflict pain. Jay panicked, his eyes went from left to right, he wanted to leap forward, but Rubinho held the tether tight and reined him in. -This will not help you Jay; you only make it worse for yourself. You are their property. -Now, let's get down to business, Dad barked. He robbed Rubinho of his whip and ran it up Jay's torso from between the rosy nipples, all the way to his chin. -Slave, raise your head, dad ordered while forcing the chin to recline. -Still no beard hairs, I see. You are physically well endowed, but manliness appears to be a bit on the retarded side of development. Hence, you compensate with muscle for facial hair. What about your armpits? All shackles except those at his feet had been removed. -Raise those arms high, dad continued, while rubbing the whip in his armpits. -Mmmh. Nothing here, either. But I like your sweat, it really turns me on, dad chuckled, as he rubbed his nose into Jay's armpits. -Very sexy, indeed. Nice pectorals, abs, smooth wasp-like curves of the body. But what I cherish most is this very vital, if not the most vital dormant snake. In time we will make it dance to the tunes of our flutes. Dad perched his index fingertip on Jay's flaccid bird. - So big and long, but not hard, yet? Let me see this wonder. Come, give me a hand, Rubinho. The blond thin pubic hair smells like pure angel dust. Mormons don't get cut like most Americans? A nice little head you got here. How often do you play with it? Dad asked, and held the scrotum up from the whip end. Jay was mortified, but Rubinho held him steady. The latter was impressed and fascinated with Jay's buttocks. -His bum is hairless too, dad, like a young boy's butt. Such a nice feel, can I ride him dad? -I suppose you could, as 666 is Ronaldinho's, but then again, your cousin will have to suck knowledge from him too. -No problem, dad. -OK then, but only when your cousin has finished with 666. Jay, who didn't understand a word of this entire Portuguese lingo, really freaked out now, and 666 could tell, for Jay was going pale, and trembled on his legs. Dad, once more, walked in a circle around Jay, while caressing his skin with the whip. Jay was well equipped and healthy. I would never use the whip on him, dad thought, as I don't want to damage this valuable merchandise. Rubinho pressed his lips on one butt cheek and it sent shivers through Jay's body. He wanted to to stick his tongue in the arsehole, but didn't daren't, yet. -I see, you very sensiblo boy, Rubinho said. 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