Date: Tue, 15 Aug 2000 07:35:29 BST From: Jack Rowan Subject: The Story of Tol - part 5 THE STORY OF TOL - part 5 This story includes descriptions of sexual relations between adult men, and between an adult man and a 16/17-year-old teenager, including bondage and SM. If the law in your jurisdiction says that you're too young to be reading this, then I suggest very strongly that you should obey the law. There are more notes about the story at the start of part 1 and the end of part 9. The Story of Tol is copyright. Copy it for your own use if you wish, archive it if you wish, make it available through the web if you wish, but please credit it to Jack Rowan, don't change it, and include this copyright note. And don't publish it for profit, or charge for accessing it. Comments will be very gratefully received by Jack_Rowan@hotmail.com Most authors like to receive comments. It's the only way we know that anyone is even reading the stories, and it's all the payoff we get. ====================================================================== THE STORY OF TOL by Jack Rowan 5 Blood and Pain ----------------- 25 There was food on the table, more than I had had for some time, and I ate about half of it; mostly bread and cheese. There was also a key, and a short note. The key is for your collar. Take it off, and wait. Bonne chance Alan I obeyed. My neck felt strange, and my shoulders light without the collar. I lay on the bed, my mind whirling, and soon went to sleep. Later - how much later? - I woke, and ate the rest of the food. Everything was quiet, and I felt it was by now probably night time. I couldn't go back to sleep, although I was content in a way I hadn't been since Maxim had caught me. No, since earlier than that - since - well, the fact was, I was more content than I had ever been, that I could remember. There seemed to be some structure in my life. I had done wrong, and I was to be punished. I wasn't afraid. And there were two people - Alan and Chris - who understood me through and through, and yet didn't hate me. That was a new, and incredibly good feeling. I realised that somehow I had acquired some friends. I felt myself smile. Almost shyly, I began to think about a possible future. It wouldn't include Aron, that was clear. I still loved him - and as I thought that, I realised that I loved him more than ever, in different ways that it was hard to get to grips with. But he was high, high above me, completely out of reach. He was away with good people, kind and friendly people like Tim and David, and his new Master. It was another universe, untouchable, inviolable and remote. I thought of returning to my job, but that was a really horrible idea. I couldn't face that life again. No, maybe when it was all over, I could find a small, quiet town, miles from anywhere, and something everyday and ordinary to do. I could play music, keep a garden. I would have a few friends, visit the local pub. Go for walks. See birds, and little foxes... I must have fallen asleep, because I was awoken by a loud crash as the door was flung open. - 26 "Up! Get on your feet!" The voice yelling at me belonged to a man of about my height, but he seemed enormous, wide and bulky. Later I discovered that the bulk was all muscle. He was perhaps forty years old, and by him stood a boy of about twenty. Both had short cropped hair and were wearing only leather trousers, waistcoats and boots. I felt cold metal encircling my wrists and heard the rachets as the boy cuffed my hands behind my back. "Why are you wearing clothes?" "I... was ordered..." The man punched me ferociously in the belly, and I collapsed to the floor. "Strip him!" The boy grabbed my tee-shirt and tore it from my body as I writhed, then unbuttoned by jeans and hauled them off me. The man kicked me in the groin and I screamed and convulsed. Without another word he threw me over his shoulder and carried me out of the room. He was incredibly strong, and carried me with ease up the stairs, still moaning, and outside. Then I was dumped in the back of a van. The boy jumped in with me, and we were off, gears grinding as we bounced down the drive. "If he tries to move, kick him!" "Yes, sir!" I lay as still as I could. "Sir, what shall we call him?" "Who gives a fuck? He's just filth who gets off on torturing kids." "Filth! Let's call him Filth, sir." The man laughed. "Yeah, why not." "Hey, Filth? How'd you like your new name? I thought of that." He laughed. "Say thank you for your new name, Filth!" "Sod off!" The boy kicked me in the belly. I was completely unable to defend myself. "Say thank you!" I groaned. He kicked me again. "Hey, hey, Gavin!" yelled the man. "Don't kill the fucker!" "No sir, sorry sir." "We'll soon get him to answer to his name." "Bastards!" "Gag him, Gavin!" "Yes, sir!" He fell on me. I thrashed, with my jaw clamped, but cuffed I was no match for him, and he forced the ball into my mouth and strapped it behind my head. "We've got a long way to go, Filth," he said. "Why don't you just settle down and think about what a lovely holiday we're going to have together, just the three of us." "Kick him again!" Gavin obeyed, viciously, and I writhed and gulped for air round the gag... - 27 The journey was a nightmare. Periodically Gavin would kick me some more and my whole body felt bruised. I had bashed my face on the wall in my struggles, and blood flowed from a cut on my forehead. It seemed that maybe an hour had passed before the van swung off the road, and shortly after stopped. Gavin opened the doors and hauled me out. The van was standing near of group of three or four nissan huts in the middle of a vast barren stretch of damp concrete; perhaps a disused airfield. It was a chill, drizzly day, and my naked body shivered in wind. "Here we are!" said Gavin. "Our own little holiday camp! What fun we'll have!" "Shut up and get him inside." "Yes, sir." They half dragged, half hustled me into one of the huts. Inside the atmosphere was dank and clammy. A single naked bulb lit up the empty space, a long wooden table, a few chairs, piles of rubbish in the corners and other things I couldn't see, a bare, concrete floor. There were no windows. My cuffs were taken off, and immediately my arms were stretched above my head and cuffed to chains. I hung my head, barely able to stand. Then the gag was taken out. "Please," I croaked, "What..." Gavin punched me in the belly, and I collapsed, hanging. "I'm Derek," said the man. "Call me 'master'. Gavin's my slave, and you call him 'sir'." He handed Gavin a strap. "Teach him his name, slave." "What's your name, Filth?" "Fuck off!" I whispered. He started to beat me. My back, my arse, my chest, my legs. It went on for ten minutes or so, and by the end I was screaming. I had never been beaten like this before. I was ablaze with pain and the feeling of violation was devastating. "What's your name?" "Tol..." I grit my teeth and whispered. He beat me again, and before long I was screaming it. "Fuck you! My name is Filth, fuck you!" "Call me sir! Call me sir, Filth!" He was still beating me as I screamed, "Sir, my name is Filth, sir!" He didn't stop, and I screamed it over and over. "Tell the Master! Tell him your new name, Filth!" "Master, my name is Filth!" I screamed it again and again. "Okay, kid," said Derek. "Nice. A bit rough. But nice." He approached me, as I scrabbled to my feet. He took my dick in his hand, manipulating it gently, and to my surprise in a moment I was as hard as steel. With his other hand he grabbed my hair, forced back my head and kissed me. Weeping, I opened my mouth to him. He stood back from me, his face completely blank. "I hate you," he said quietly. Then, yelling in my face: "I fucking hate you! I've read all about you, they sent the stuff, I know. You earned more in a month than I do in a year! Posh school, university, everything, you had everything, bloody everything!" He was striding back and forth, marking his words with fierce, short gestures. "But when it comes down it, it's just COCK, isn't it. Just a hard fucking cock, that's all you are and all you want! And if takes a little kid, tied to a table, begging you to stop, screaming, if it takes that to make your cock hard, then too bad, that's it, isn't it? You couldn't give a shit, you're so bloody stuck-up and full of yourself, you think ordinary rules don't apply to you, do they? Look at Gavin over there. His dad found out he was gay and slung out the house when he was thirteen. He ended up in a children's home, where slimey over-educated bastards like you, people he trusted, fucked him and beat him till he nearly killed himself! But thanks to Master Anthony I've got him now, I'm his Master now, and I'd rather die than let him down or betray him. We love each other. Love! That's what it's about, not your fucking COCK!" He kneed me in the groin. I collapsed again, groaning. "You make me sick! I saw the pictures of that lad, Aron, and Maxim was right. They should have shot you and ploughed you under. He'd have given himself to you, that lovely kid, and STILL you had to treat him like shit! Everything that's important, you make it all slimey and nasty and evil! But at least I've got you now, me and Gavin, we've got you, and you, Mr Fucking Tolgrund Burnley, Esquire, you are going to fucking suffer!" He turned away from me. I was shaking in terror. "Punishment, official punishment, is on Mondays and Thursdays. Today's Sunday, so that's tomorrow. The rest of the time is just Gavin and me having fun. And you... Just do what you're told, and keep your fucking mouth shut. Gavin?" "Yes, sir!" "Get him cleaned up. I can't bear the sight of him. And don't cut his balls off, much as I'd like it." He went out, banging the door. - 28 Gavin said nothing, and I saw that he was crying. He moved round the room, collecting things. Then he felt me stand up. "I'm going to shave you, arsehole. Stay still." He covered my groin with shaving cream and started to shave me with quick, abrupt strokes. I still so broken from Derek's outburst that I couldn't take in what was happening. "Three fucking years." He was still crying. "I was only thirteen. Thirteen! And cunts like you were fucking me, passing me round to their friends! They just loved it when I screamed and cried, they just went on and on, they never, ever stopped. One of those fuckers, he used to come to my room, just to taunt me, just to tell me what they were going to do. 'Four days to go... three days to go...' I slit my wrists. No good, they just kept on and on." "I'm sorry..." "Shit! Now we've got you, and so it's 'sorry, sorry, sorry'! You're all such fucking cowards when it comes to it. You haven't even BEGUN to be sorry yet! You don't know my Master's story. He ran away to be with a man when he was fifteen, when that man had finished with him he was in fucking hospital for six months! Master Anthony, he finished him, he had him killed, that one, he was just the same, 'sorry, sorry', that's before they shot him. My Master saw..." He went round behind me. "Get your legs further apart, I've got to shave your crack." I obeyed. "Never been fucked?" "No, sir... Never..." "Good. You're going to really feel it, aren't you? Virgin little hole, just waiting for my Master's cock, and mine. I hope you fucking squeal, cumbag. Stand very, very still, now..." I felt the blade slide over my hole. "Naked and smooth as a baby. Okay, Baby Filth, now I'm going to let you free. Don't try anything, or I'll fucking beat you death." He undid my cuffs. I made no move. The weeks with Alan had left me out of condition, and he was hard and well-trained. In any case, I was completely cowed by their violence and hatred; I really thought that given an excuse they would happily kill me. He led me to a corner where there was a toilet and wash-basin. Both were cracked and filthy. Originally there must have been a partition round them; the rubble left over when it was demolished was still there on the floor. A pipe led from one of the taps. "Okay, I'm going to give you an enema. Put your hands on the basin and bend over." I obeyed, disgusted by the thought. He thrust the pipe into me unlubricated, and I screamed. He ignored me and turned the tap on, hard. I could feel the water rushing, forcing into me; it was agonising, and only the thought of what he might do stopped me from collapsing. "Don't let any of it out, or..." He turned off the tap and pulled the hose out. I stood, my belly swelling grossly, and steadied myself on the basin. "Sir..." "Hold it. Hold it, or die." I held on, shivering and sweating. Finally he relented and let me sit. I discharged, noisily and smellily. "Come outside. I'll wash you down." It was evening now, and still raining. He uncoiled a hose from a standpipe and began to spray me, holding his finger over the end. The water was icy; I turned in it as he sprayed me from head to foot. By the time he had finished, my teeth were chattering and I felt blue with the cold. Back inside, and still soaking, my hands were cuffed behind my back. "Now there's this." He was holding a large buttplug. "I'm meant to use some lube, but you know what? I think I've forgotten. Bend over." I obeyed, shivering, and he plunged it into me with one ferocious thrust. I shrieked in agony and collapsed. The pain seemed to go from my arse straight up my back and into my head, and I thrashed, out of control. He waited for a while, and then dragged me to my feet. "Now, let me show you to your suite. Your home from home. You're going to love this." It was a cage, made of metal bars, not much more than a yard each way. He forced me in and I lay on my side, my face pressed to my knees, and wept. He fastened the door with a padlock. "Get some rest. You'll need it." He turned out the light and left me in darkness. - 29 I lay, still soaking wet and cold, shivering and weeping. The pain in my arse was dulling now, but I daren't try to sit up. My guts felt as if I had been kicked by a horse and all over me I could feel the bruises from where they had hit me. I thought about the future, and dreaded. Everything I had felt and thought in the morning seemed hopelessly naive and presumptuous. Punishment. I hadn't had an idea what it would mean, but it was taking me to my limits. If they kept this up, I would collapse completely. It wasn't just the pain and brutality, but the face-to-face confrontation with their hatred and contempt. Nothing that had happened to me in the past had prepared me for this emotional onslaught from people who had every reason to despise me and what I had done. But I was exhausted, and despite everything, I drifted off into a wretched, uncomfortable sleep. I was awoken by Gavin banging on the cage. "Wake up, Filth! Time for tea!" He hauled me out of the cage. The food they had for me was unspeakable, scraps of what they had just finished, half chewed bones, catfood, some dollops of potato, and water in a bowl. But I was famished, and thirsty, and I ate it greedily, using my hands, and drank. I supposed I was meant to find this humiliating, but I was past that. Nothing could be worse than their hatred. "Party time!" said Gavin. "Time to put out! Your chance not to die guessing!" "Oh, god, no!" "No? Not in the mood? After we've wined you and dined you, put you up in the best hotel suite? Come on, Filth, you can do us better than that!" Derek said nothing. Gavin pulled me onto the table and quickly had me fastened down, my arms above my head and my legs up, my feet almost by my ears. Then, agonisingly, he hauled the butt plug out. I was completely exposed, and terrified. The thought of being fucked was something which had always horrified me, something I had always avoided, a violation beyond bearing. Now it was going to happen in the most ghastly circumstances I could imagine, with people who hated me. "NO! No sir, Master, don't, for god's sake don't, anything but this, please, I'll do anything, please..." I babbled and screamed, writhing, and I could see Derek undressing, saw his vast dick appearing. He approached me, looked down into my face. "Recognise what he's saying, Gavin?" "Sure. Said it all myself, dozens, hundreds of times. Never made any difference." There was a long pause, as Derek stared into my eyes. "It's no good." "What, sir?" Derek drew a long sigh, almost a sob. "I can't do it. I've never raped anyone, and I'm not starting now. I can't." "Oh, Master." "You do it, Gavin. I can't." "If you can't, I won't." "Come here, lover." They embraced, and I could see they were both weeping. I felt I was intruding on something I hadn't even suspected was there. I was embarrassed and ashamed. "Leave him like that. Let's go to bed." They discarded me. Without a word, they turned out the light and left. Later, much later, Gavin returned. I hadn't been able to sleep. The position I was in caused cramps and agonies in my shoulders and arms, and all down the backs of my legs; my guts churned from the remains of the enema. I found it difficult to breathe. He untied me, and helped me, groaning, to my feet. He had to hold me up, or I'd have collapsed. "Okay, bedtime for Filthikins." "Sir, I need..." "Yeah, suppose you do." He led me to the toilet, and I did my stuff. Then he helped me to the cage and got me in. He leant over me. "I'd have done it, Filth. I would have, like a shot. My Master's a good man, a really good man, but I'm just a nasty little punk, and don't you forget it. I'd have done it." "Why didn't you, then?" "You wouldn't understand." He left me in the dark. He was wrong, though. I did understand, and I was reassured. Gradually, I fell asleep, thinking about love. - 30 It was an exquisitely uncomfortable night. I twisted and turned, trying to find an easy way to lie in the cage, but there wasn't one. In all the time I slept there, I never really got used to it. That morning, when Gavin came to wake me, I was so stiff I couldn't walk. Once again he had to hold me up. "Come on, do some exercises. Stretch up and down. Work yourself a bit." I did, and gradually my body unknotted. He led me to the toilet and allowed me to brush my teeth. "Okay, it's punishment day. That means you get to put on some clothes. I've brought you these, you won't want more after." His manner was brisk and impersonal, and I felt a difference from the day before. I put on the shirt, loose shorts and sandals he had brought. There was some food too, porridge and some water, and I ate gratefully. He looked at his watch. "Okay, off we go." He led me outside, to another of the huts. Maybe two hundred yards away, across the windblown concrete, I could see the nearest trees, with their autumn leaves. The other hut was quite different, warm, with a polished wooden floor, lit by windows along one side. At the other end Derek was sitting behind a desk. Gavin led me towards him. "Are you Tolgrund Burnley?" "Yes, Master." "You'd better skip the 'master' and 'sir' when we're doing this." "Yes." Reading from a paper, he continued. "Earlier this year, you persuaded Aron Miheliewicz Chernik to accompany you to a cottage in Essex..." He recited everything that had happened, and that I had agreed to their treatment of me. As he went coolly through it, I felt the horror of what I had done, the wrongness, more and more strongly, and I started to weep. He looked at me curiously. "Do you agree with all that?" "Yes." "You will receive a total of 320 strokes of the cane on the buttocks, administered at the rate of forty a week over a period of eight weeks. Today there are 320 strokes left. You will receive ten strokes now, and another ten this afternoon. Strip." Ten strokes? Was that all? I was surprised. Then they led me to a table, and I was bent over it. My legs and arms were strapped in place, and another strap held my waist. And then they showed me the cane, five feet long, thick, and flexible, and I realised what I faced. Derek made a few trial strokes in the air, then crashed it down on the table, close to my head. The sound of the stroke terrified me. "Bite on this," he said, putting a piece of wood in my mouth. "It'll protect your tongue. Count them off, Gavin." "Yes, sir." Derek stood to one side, and then ran up a few paces and struck, it seemed with all the strength of his arm and back. I heard the sound, and then I was flooded with agony; first the agony of the blow, and then a vast crescendo of pain, in my buttocks, up my back and down my legs. I screamed without restraint. "One." He waited maybe half a minute, and then struck again. After three or four strokes, I lost count; I was delirious with the pain, completely out of my mind. Later I felt Gavin holding my head and whispering, "Only two to go, Tol. Hold on, you can do this...," and somehere I was surprised at his kindness. And then, finally, it was over. "There are 310 strokes left," said Derek. Gavin untied me, and helped me to a bed. He lay me on my front and shackled my hands above my head, but otherwise left me free. "The skin is split in two places," he said. "I'll rub some of this in. It'll stop infection and help it heal." I felt him rubbing my arse. It stung, but felt cool. Derek came and stood by the bed. "Over the weeks you can expect your skin to split lots of times, Tol. I'll try not to hit the places that haven't healed, but it may not always work out. You'll be left with scars." I was weeping quietly. "I understand." "We'll leave you for now. We start again this afternoon." They were walking to door. "Master?" "Yes?" "Thank you." They left without comment. But my thanks were genuine. What had happened was something I understood, which felt right. I felt I was at the start of a long road, at the end of which I would be free of - of what? Free of guilt, that was it. I would have paid. It was a wonderful feeling of finally making progress. In the meantime, I was on a soft bed, in the warm. Despite the pain from my arse, I drifted easily to sleep. Later, Gavin brought me some food. He let me get up, and told me put my clothes on. Although I hurt, he insisted I should sit; he gave me a cushion. It was possible. "You'll have to get used to it," he said. "There's eight weeks of this. You can't not sit for eight weeks." I looked at him oddly as I ate. "I don't understand, sir." "What?" "Why - why you're being so - so nice to me." He turned away from me. "I don't like this part. All this - reading stuff out, and punishment and stuff. Counting strokes and all that. I can't stand it. If you were me, you'd understand." I didn't know what to say. I suddenly felt uncomfortable about forcing him into a closeness he didn't want. "When - when do we start again?" He looked at his watch. "In a few minutes." I felt a rush of fear. "Oh, god." He looked at me oddly, but said nothing. I couldn't eat any more. We sat in silence until Derek returned. Then they went through the whole ritual again. And this time, with my arse already mangled, the pain was far, far worse. Half way through, I threw up my lunch. They made sure I could breathe, and continued. "There are 300 strokes left." Once again Gavin helped me to the bed and tended my wounds. This time I noticed as I walked a trickle of blood running down my leg. They left me alone again, tied on the bed, but I didn't sleep. My mind was whirling. Crimes and punishment. Balance, what Chris had said. Guilt. Compensation. And love, what it was and what it meant. I hadn't thought much about things like this before. It was hard, but intensely interesting. And then there were my captors. Much later Gavin returned with food. I ate, and then he took me back to the other hut. After he let me use the toilet, he put me in the cage, still wearing the clothes, even though it was only the early evening. In all this time he scarcely spoke, and I respected his silence. With the wounds on my arse, it was another dreadful night, and I lay awake for hours, cramped, longing for them to return. - 31 The next day Gavin came to wake me up, and it was as if the day before had never happened. He was wearing running shorts and trainers. The moment I was out of the cage, he felled me with a crashing blow to the belly. "Get up and get your fucking clothes off!" It was a few minutes till I could obey, and he stood ranting at me all the while. Then he led me over to the chains and cuffed me into them. "You'll be pleased at this, Filth. Really pleased. I've invented my own little project." He was walking round the room, picking things up. "I'm going to get your balls to hang a bit lower. They're really very high. You must have been worried about that." He was sneering at me, and the look in his eyes didn't seem entirely sane; he was starting to worry me. "Here we go." He worked a ball stretcher onto me. I'd never worn one before, and it hurt. It had a long chain hanging beneath it. "Tight okay, isn't it?" I said nothing, and he wrenched it. I yelled. "Answer me, when I ask you a question!" "Y-yes, sir, it's tight!" "Right. Then we add this." It was a weight, maybe a pound or so. He held it in front of my eyes, then put it on the chain. I groaned at the tension. "Not much yet. We'll make it heavier, bit by bit. Your balls will be down at your fucking KNEES in the end!" Just then Derek came into the room. He had a strap in his hand, slapping it on his thigh. He must have seen what was going on, but made no comment. "Okay, Gavin, Filth, morning run time. Three times round the perimeter!" They let me free and I followed them out. The run was agony; Derek set a fast pace; I was out of training after the months in Alan's care, and the weight wrenched my balls at every stride. After half a mile I was in trouble. "Come on, Filth! Get into it!" yelled Derek. Then he was thrashing me, driving me along, gasping and stumbling. Half a mile later he made Gavin take the weight off, but it was still a struggle. They forced me through it. "Jesus, you're useless, Filth!" he said at the end. "We're going to have to put you in serious training. Okay, Gavin, put the weight back on and put him on the cross." I was standing, my face to the cross, my arms and legs outstretched, the weight on me again. It was obvious what was going to happen, and I dreaded it. "Ever been whipped?" "No, Master." He was using a flogger with many tails, not too heavy, I noticed. He laughed and gave me three ferocious cuts across the shoulders. I yelled. "No, I see not. Well. Let's work up, shall we? See how you react." He started whipping me, quite gently. It hurt, that was all. As he got harder, it hurt more and more, and soon I was screaming continuously. "You can't let go, can you?" he said to me quietly, his hand resting on my back. "Fucking tight-arse, always holding yourself in, emotionally constipated bastard. I'd have thought Alan would have taught you more than that." "Master Alan didn't hate me, Master." He looked at me for a long moment. "Get him off this. Put him on the chains. Facing this way." Gavin obeyed. "Come over here." They kissed for a long time. Then without a word, Gavin stripped. He was tanned all over, quite hairy, well-muscled and sturdy. Derek put him on the cross. Then he started to whip him, gently at first, then stronger and stronger. I could see that Gavin was hard. The whipping mounted up, harder and harder, with Derek stopping from time to time to whisper in his slave's ear. Several times they kissed, and I could see how frantically Gavin was responding. The session ended with a long stretch of ferociously hard blows, at the end of which Gavin reached a cataclysmic orgasm, his come bursting out of him in a continuous stream as he screamed and screamed. Derek released him, and they hugged each other for a long while. "Well," said Derek, "You see how it works." My dick was painfully hard. "I see you love each other, Master." "I don't have to love you, fuckface. All that's needed is that YOU love ME. Or trust me. Or want to please me. Any of those would work. What won't work is you being as tight as the Pope's arse, that's what." "Yes, Master." "When you said 'thank you' to me yesterday, did you mean it?" "Yes, Master, I did." "Think about it." He turned to Gavin. "Put a plug in him. And add another weight." They left me in pain. They were gone for hours, and it got worse and worse. I couldn't think about anything, despite what he said. By the time they came back I was weeping. Derek looked in my eyes for a long time, and then sighed. "It doesn't matter. We'd got all the time in the world. Give him some food, then take him to do some training." Gavin took me to another hut, full of gym equipment. We spent the afternoon there, Gavin sneering at me all the time. I was as weak as a kitten. He took me back to eat, then cuffed me to the chains again. I was still carrying the two weights, and all day the pain had been getting greater; I was longing for them to be taken off. Later, Gavin came back and unchained me. "Blow me, cunt face." He stood, his legs apart, challenging me. I fell to me knees and unzipped him. My pride was aroused by his scorn. He wasn't enormous; just a nice sized mouthful, and I attacked him with a will. He was hard at once, his hands buried in my curls, thrusting into me vigorously, and I used my tongue to make him feel good. I could tell he was trying to hurt me, but he wasn't. In a way I was controlling him, playing him, and I enjoyed it. I was learning fast. Without warning he came, thrusting as hard and far as he could. I swallowed his come, and smiled up at him. "Fuck me! You're really good at that! Who'd have thought it? Master?" Derek had come into the room unnoticed. "Well, Filth? Would you like to blow me too?" For some reason, I wanted to very much. "Yes, Master. I - I would enjoy that." He unzipped himself. His dick was vast, long and thick, and already hard. He must have been watching us, I thought. "Cuff him." Gavin obeyed. This will be interesting, I thought, and it was. Being unable to use my hands focused me even more on my mouth, and I was utterly determined to do a good job. I spent some time just licking him, running my tongue round his head. He was already groaning when I took him in my mouth. Gavin had loosened and moistened me, and I was able to take him into my throat in a single stroke. I heard his exclamation of surprise, and then I fell to it, moving up and down on him steadily, not frantically. Unlike Gavin, he was in no hurry, and although my jaw was aching now, nor was I. Twice he came to the point, and I backed off from him, and he accepted this, running his hands through my hair. To my surprise he was quite gentle with me, until the end, when he shouted "Yes! This time!" and started to thrust into me brutally, plunging into my throat. Then he gave a great shout and came, and I continued to move on him until he stopped me. He raised me to my feet and looked at me. "Amazing. You were really trying, weren't you?" "Yes, Master. I said I would enjoy it." He looked at me for a long time, holding my head still with his hand in my hair. "Right. Cage him, but leave the cuffs on. Let's go to bed." - 32 He took the ball-stretcher off me at last. I was almost frantic to come, but with my hands cuffed it was impossible. I spent a dreadful night. The next day was similar. Even with two weights, I found I could run a bit better, although Derek was still goading me along with his strap. As he said he would, he whipped me again, but with no attempt to get any response from me; he built up from gentle strokes to hard, and I suffered all the way. At the end he flogged me unmercifully for a long time. I screamed and thrashed, and when they released me, collapsed on the floor. The training session was a little better. And once again I blew both of them, even more skillfullly than before. Derek stared at me again, as if trying to puzzle me out. Finally he sighed. "It's just pride for you, isn't it? Is that all it is?" I thought for a long moment. "Not 100%, Master. Really not." I meant it, too. I really wanted to reach this hard, disdainful man, and this was the only way I had. "Oh, cage him," he said, exasperated. "Keep him cuffed. And remember: punishment tomorrow." He left. Gavin let me use the toilet, and caged me. "Sir? The Master... He's very hard to - to reach. I - I'm trying, but..." "You're really a stupid fucker, aren't you? How much do you want it, that's the only question. How much will you give? That's all, what's really important to you? Ask yourself that." I lay on my side in the darkness, trying to make something of what Gavin had said, but it made no sense to me at all. The only thing I could feel was how important these two men were becoming to me. The punishment session the next day was a nightmare. Ten strokes in the morning, ten in the afternoon, as before, but they were getting worse and worse, more and more unbearable, and at the end I was streaming blood. It was becoming clear to me that it was going to damage me badly in the end, maybe irreparably. I faced this squarely, and found I was able see it as something I must accept. At least there were now three days for me to heal before the next onslaught. I could see in Gavin's eyes that he was appalled, on the edge of tears. I was touched, but didn't know how to react. When he'd finally taken me back to my cage, I asked to speak to Derek alone. Gavin looked at me oddly, but went to get him. "What the fuck do you want, Filth? I'm not here to act as your servant!" I was lying on my side, weak from the pain, and this was hard. But I made an effort. "Master, I don't think you should involve Gavin in the punishment sessions." "Oh? Why not? Doesn't he measure up to your exacting standards of service, your honour?" "It's not that, Master. They're too painful for him. He was almost in tears today. I don't know... perhaps it's something in his past." He paused. "Yeah, I know. I'd noticed, but I didn't know it was that bad. And - I know more about him than you. I know what the problems are. Trouble is, I need him there. There's no one else who can do it." "It's not only that. He ends up looking after me. It's hard for him to - to connect that with the rest of what he does with me here." "I'd thought of that too. I'm not so worried about that. You don't have to know why. But it's good for him." "I'm sorry, Master. I didn't mean to - to interfere." "'Sokay. I'll talk to him, we can talk this through." He paused. "There's you, though. I didn't like the look of it today. If this goes on, we shall have talk to a doctor. And to the others. Don't worry. I won't let you be permanently injured." "Th - thank you, sir." "You're growing up, kid, you know that? Thanks." He left me in the dark. I had done what I could. - 33 I was standing next to a vast bath of water. I don't know what it was originally for, but it must have have been five feet deep and ten feet square or so. They were tying me up, and I was shaking with fear. I'd always been terrified of water, and I can't swim. Of course they knew this. They had tied my ankles together, and my knees; then they tied my arms to my sides, at the hips and again at the waist. Then they tied long, black weights to my arms. I could only think they were planning to drown me, and I was begging. "No Master, no, please don't do this, please..." "'Reserving only my life.' You crossed it out, remember?" I shrieked. "God no! Please, master..." Gavin bent to pick up my feet, while Derek grasped my shoulders. They held me over the water, writhing. "Bye, Filth!" They let me go. I splashed into the water and slowly began to sink. I was flapping my body, vainly trying to keep my head up, but it was dragged under. I felt my lungs swelling; I knew I had only seconds to live; but it's astonishing how long you can hold your breath when you're completely desperate. I was writhing, trying to get my feet dwon, but my head was far heavier, and I felt it hit the bottom. My lungs were bursting, and I felt my consciousness ebbing... I was lying on the floor, coughing water, and the two of them, soaking wet, were holding me. They started to laugh. "Thought that was it, did you, Filth?" yelled Gavin, pounding my back. I was still tied, and the coughing was agony. Finally I was able to gasp: "You fucking bastards..." "Yeah," said Derek. "We'll give you a few minutes. Then we'll do it again." "No!" They were fixing ropes to me, at my feet and chest. "Oh yes. This is how it is. We lower you into the water. You stay absolutely still. When you're lying flat on the bottom - we'll pull you out. Then we'll stop. If you move or thrash around - we'll do it again." "God, you pair of shits." My coughing was dying down. "Oh, yes, Filthy Boy, you've no idea." They lifted me up, and hung me over the water, holding the ropes. "Remember - don't move!" "No! Please don't! Please!" "Deep breath, now." I followed Derek's suggestion, although I was already panting, and it was agony. The moment I was under the water, I started thrashing. I couldn't help it, I was panicking, out of control. Again I felt my lungs were bursting, and again I faced death. Then they hauled me up. At least I was still conscious. They held me above the water. I could smell its chlorine, hear the hungry lapping. Derk bent towards me. "You've got to trust me. Remember? I said you wouldn't be permanently injured. Why don't you believe me? I meant it. Now. We're going to lower you again. Just do what I said." They did it again. I managed to let myself sink a little way, but I couldn't, simply couldn't let myself go to the bottom. They hauled me out again. And did it again. And again. Then they turned me over, so that I was face down, and could see the water slowly approaching me, as they did it again. It was unspeakable. Again I failed. "Again." "Oh, for god's sake, have mercy!" "Have mercy on yourself, Tol," said Derek, quietly. "Trust us, and trust yourself." The water came closer to me, and I took a breath. For the first time, I didn't shut my eyes, and I could see the bottom below me, slowly coming closer. Somehow it seemed peaceful and quiet, and calmed me; and this time, holding my panic down, I let myself sink. The moment I touched the bottom, they hauled me out of the bath, and I was on my feet. "Yes! You did it! See? It only took a little help!" For some reason I smiled at him. Gavin was untying the ropes, and then Derek was hugging me, and I him. "Okay, put him to rest in his cage for today. He's earned it." That evening they came for me to blow them, and I did it with crazed, frantic enthusiasm. I felt insanely proud of myself. - 34 Monday. Gavin led me through an early morning mist to the next punishment session. Half way through the first ten, I fainted from the pain. They tended me till I came round, and then completed it. At the end, blood was pouring from me, and Gavin had to care for me for a long time. I could see that once again he was holding tears in check with difficulty. "You spoke to Derek about me and - this, didn't you?" "Yes, sir." "Why did you do that?" "I - I was worried. You don't seem to like it much." "I don't need your fucking help, that's for sure." There was a silence. "I don't mind this, you know," I said. "Don't mind it? You scream enough." "Well, okay, I mind it. But - well, I deserve this. I know that. It's - well, once it's over, I'll have paid. I'll have a clean slate. So I can put up with it." "I've heard all that shit. Coppers, magistrates, all that shit. It's all so fucking phoney, sentences and all that. I stole things. I had to, it was that or starve. What could I do? 'You're incorrigible, young man.' Fucking freezing and hungry, more like." "Yeah, but I really did do that stuff to - to Aron, that stuff the Master reads out each time. Sir, I'm - I'm a bad person." "So shoot you. Beat you up. I don't know. But this stuff - it's so cold." "All part of it. Look - it's me it's happening to, sir. Far as I'm concerned, it's in order." He looked at me strangely. "Yeah. Thanks, Filth." He left me. After the afternoon session I was bleeding badly again, and in the end they had to carry me back to my cage. I barely slept, I was in such pain, and the next day I could scarcely walk. Derek took one look at me, and moved me to the bed in the punishment hut. The next thing I was aware of, there was another man looking me over. "Young man? I am a doctor. Let me look at you." He examined my arse carefully, swabbing me down. "Yes. Well, the damage is superficial so far. But I'm concerned that he isn't being given enough time to heal. The old wounds are reopening, and there's a danger of permanent damage, not only to the skin but to the underlying tissue. There's also a pretty good chance of serious infection." "Just what I feared," said Derek. "You did right to call me. We had better talk to Anthony. Leave him here today, but he can go back to the cage tonight if he's not bleeding." "Okay." As far as I was concerned, it was blissful day. I didn't care about the pain if I could be in this heavenly comfort and warmth. Late in the afternoon, Derek returned. "Right. It's been agreed. Your remaining sentence has been cut to 120 strokes. They will be given twenty a week, on Mondays. That will give you a whole week to heal. The next session will be next Monday." "Thank you, Master. Thank you very much." "I've got a course of antibiotics for you. Take this now," and he gave me a pill, "And there's two a day for the next five days." He clapped my shoulder. "I'm impressed. You haven't whined about this at all. Just stick with it, I'll be checking you're not damaged. And - thanks for what you said to Gavin. That was good." Gavin took me back to the cage. I slept well, absurdly happy with what had happened. - 35 That week, they were brutal to me. Sometimes, they left me cuffed in the chains for hours on end, a plug in my arse, in the dark. I could barely touch the ground, and I alternated between standing agonisingly on my toes and hanging from my straining wrists. By the end I was shouting and screaming for them to come back. Derek whipped me ferociously very day. Sometimes the cross was inverted, so that my head was down, as he whipped my legs. Sometimes it was my front he whipped. There was never any build-up now; he just pounded into me, and at the end he never touched me, although I longed for it, but left me hanging on the cross, weeping, sometimes for hours. Gavin was becoming harsher and harsher to me, mercilessly punching and kicking me. To be punched in the belly as I was hanging in the chains was a torment I never got used to. He gloated over me. Every night now I slept with my hands cuffed behind me and a plug in my arse. I couldn't think, I slept dreadfully. My entire body was covered with bruises and stripes from the whip. My libido was nil. I felt I was in hell. We were walking through the woods, maybe half a mile from the huts, Derek in front, Gavin behind and me, naked, between them, my wrists cuffed. The autumn leaves hissed round our ankles. It was a bright evening, the pale sun glintly low through the trees, but cool. A thrush was calling nearby. I was touched by the beauty of the moment, but I knew they had to be planning some new torment for me. We came to a tree with one thick branch stretching out, more-or-less parallel with the ground about six feet up. They stopped me under it, and fell to work. Soon I was hanging beneath the branch, horizontally, my arms above my head, still naked. Ropes held me up all along my body; a harness supported my head. My dick and balls, still in their stretcher, hung down, the weights beneath them. Then Derek whipped me ferociously, all along my body, leaving only my arse untouched. "Right, Filth," he said. "We'll see you in the morning." They left. I was still weeping from the whipping, and I couldn't believe they would really leave me there all night. But they did. To start with I struggled frantically, screaming for them to return, but to no avail, and I finally subsided, still crying. The ropes were beginning to hurt me, and it was getting colder and colder as night set in. And then I was hanging in the dark. My position, with my arms above my head, was making it hard to breathe. The loneliness, the cold and the tightness of the bondage were breaking me, and I wept and called for them weakly and continuously. Then it started to rain. I was in terror; I thought I was going to die from suffocation and cold. The torture seemed endless. Finally, after an age, with the sky just starting to brighten, they returned. "Miss us?" Gavin sneered at me. "Oh god sir, yes, thank you for coming for me..." I was weeping uncontrollably as they let me down. I wanted to hug them, to kiss them, but they wouldn't let me. They wrapped me in a blanket and led me, still weeping, back to the huts, to the punishment hut. And there, in the blissful, heavenly warmth, they left we, still cuffed hand and foot, on the bed. - 36 It must have been a few hours later when they came to wake me. "Punishment today. Have you forgotten?" I had. It was week since the last. I felt the fear start, my heart jump. "And today, there'll be an observer. It's - it's Maxim Chernik." "Oh no. Oh no, oh, god, Master, oh no..." "I'm sorry. I didn't want it, but they insisted." I looked at him. I was shocked beyond description by his news, but there was something I had to say. "Master... Forgive me for speaking, but - please don't hold back. It's important to me for him to know that - that's it's serious." "Don't worry. He'll see what he's looking for." I looked at him and tried to smile. "Get some rest. We'll get you some breakfast." He looked at me meaningly. Usually I skipped breakfast on punishment days. "By the way. Call him 'sir'. Not 'Master', 'sir'." They left me alone. I was till so exhausted from my overnight ordeal that I fell asleep at once. Gavin woke me with breakfast, and I hate hungrily. I was starving. Then I dressed. I had only just finished when I heard a car draw up, and a moment later, Derek came in. With him was Maxim. "This my slave, Gavin." Gavin bowed, but said nothing. Maxim ignored him, and walked straight to me. "So. How does it feel, you piece of shit? How does feel to be on the receiving end for a change? When it isn't a helpless kid you're dealing with? How does it feel when it's you that's terrified and screaming, eh? Do they make you suffer, bastard? Are you frightened? Do you lie awake weeping with fear, cunt? How does it feel?" I looked at the man who had been my boss for years, and all I could think was how much he looked like Aron. I hadn't noticed it before. "It - it feels very terrible, sir." "We'll see. I didn't want the strokes reduced. I think they're pampering you, and I won't allow it." I said nothing. "D'you keep him here? D'you keep this pig HERE?" "No, Master," said Derek. "We'll show you his quarters afterwards." There was a pause. "Come on then, Master, let's get on with it!" "As you wish." "I'd like to give him the strokes myself. Just this once. I'd like him to know that it's me doing it." There was a pause, and I could see that Derek was angry. "No, Master," he said. "That wouldn't be right. You are - involved." Maxim looked at him. "Very well. If you insist, Master." Derek bowed slightly. Then he went to sit behind the table, and the ritual began. I saw to my surprise that a large mirror had been set up on the side of the room. "There are 120 strokes left. You will receive ten strokes this morning, and another ten this afternoon." Maxim snorted. "Strip." I obeyed, and for the first time since I had been there, I saw myself full-length in the mirror. My entire body, from my shoulders to my knees, was covered in welts. There were huge bruises, new and old, and my balls looked purple. I looked over my shoulder and saw that my back was the same, and my arse was one enormous blue-black bruise, scored with dark-red bloody ridges. I looked a mess. There was a long pause. "Oh, dear god," whispered Maxim. "God in heaven." "Come," said Derek, leading me to the table. Gavin tied me down, as usual, checking the straps carefully. Then the torture began. And if anything, Derek was striking even harder than usual; the pain was certainly worse. Halfway through, on cue, I threw up my breakfast. They wiped it away, made sure I could breathe, and continued. Then I fainted. Again they tended me, till I could take the last two strokes. "There are 110 strokes left." They untied me. Once again I was bleeding freely, and Gavin helped me to the bed. "He will stay here till this afternoon. Gavin will tend his wounds." "Then you'll give him another ten? Merciful heaven." "Is everything - adequate, Master?" "Yes. More than adequate. Master, you have my apologies. And you were right. It would not have been appropriate for me to do it." Derek bowed. Maxim came to me. "Tol." I could hear a catch in his voice. "When you get through this, I shall be satisfied. Do you understand?" "Yes, sir." I was weeping. "I understand. Thank you, sir." He paused, and for a moment I thought he would say something else. Instead he just sighed, and I felt a touch of his hand on my shoulder. Then he was gone. I turned my face into the pillows, and wept, wept from pure happiness. "Wanker," said Gavin. "Who? Maxim?" "Yeah. All mouth, no action. If he'd ever tried a caning like that, he'd have known." I turned my head to look at him. "You mean - you, sir?" "'Course. How d'you think the Master practised? We play hard, my Master and me. Not like those wankers. I know what you're going through, Filth." I smiled at him. "You play hard, all right, sir." "Nothing we don't do ourselves. Nothing." He paused. "You know something, Filth? I'm not sure - I'm not sure I hate you as much as I did." "Thanks, sir." A wonderful, wonderful day. - 37 The next day they left me blissfully alone, as my wounds healed. Then it was back to the same vicious routine. If anything Gavin seemed harder, more violent than ever, but occasionally we exchanged glances. It was strange, but incredibly exciting. Something was stirring in the back of my mind, something terrifying but suddenly important, and I knew I had a decision to take. It was after the next punishment. Now there were only four more to go, only eighty strokes, and I was getting high with the thought of the end of it. Gavin had left me in the cage, in the dark as usual, but there was something different about the sound of it, as I moved around. I felt carefully, and found that he hadn't set the padlock. I could open it! I crept out into the darkness. By now I knew my way round the hut easily, and I soon found the light switch. Oh god! Oh glory hallelujah! I was free! Careful now, careful... Don't waste the chance... I looked round my prison, and found what I hoped for: the clothes I had worn for the last punishment session. There they were, a shirt and a pair of shorts, spotted with blood, but okay. I slipped them on. Now what? Now what? Maybe I could slip quietly away... I opened the door, just a crack, and saw that it was now evening. I could wait for the dark - but Gavin might be back at any moment! Yes! The van! There it was... Now, if only the key... I decided to make a dash for it. If there was no key, I could still run, and maybe I'd make it. I'd have a good start, anyhow, even if they noticed. I slipped out of the door, and raced for the van. Yes! The key was there! It was a diesel engine; I turned on the power, and waited in agony for the ready light to come on. Then I started the engine, crashed it into gear and immediately gunned it down the approach road. I was away! Free and clear! Without the van they couldn't possibly catch me - I was free! I was already out onto the road, when something screamed in my mind. I was abandoning everything! I was throwing it all away! Throwing it away - again! I pulled the van into the side, leaving the engine ticking, and buried my head in my hands. Think! Think! The little town, far from anywhere - the ordinary job - they'd never find me. I'd be there, regretting all I'd lost, sad, maybe, but free... Then suddenly something clicked. It was wrong. It was wrong. That's what I'd said to Chris, and the clarity, the power of that moment came back to me. Carefully, I turned the van round. They were waiting for me. "You came back." Derek's voice was flat, his face blank. "Yes, Master. Master, I - couldn't do it." He held out his arms, and I hugged him. "I have to - I have to finish it. Do it all. Get through it." "Yeah. 'The only way out is through.' It's a saying. A mandala saying. _Deep Undertakings_. That's just the way it is." I looked at him, amazed; it seemed so unlike him. And then I knew it had arrived, the decision; the moment I had dreaded. But I knew, also, that I must do it. "Master. Master, will you fuck me?" He looked at me, and his eyes were twinkling. "Say it again." "Please fuck me, Master." I heard Gavin say, "YES!" "Gavin too?" "Of course. Gavin too." "I would anyhow, if the Master did," said Gavin, but I could hear his smile. "So? I can still give you permission, sir, even if you don't want it!" Derek laughed. "I was beginning to think we'd never get you to this." "Was it a setup, Master?" "'Course. You think we were born yesterday?" - 38 "It must be part of it. You understand? You must be tied." We were walking back to my hut. He had his arm round my shoulders. "Yes, I understand, Master." Somehow it was only this which made it bearable. For me, to be fucked had always been the ultimate violation, almost an annihilation. I knew that what I was allowing him to do was right, but I was terrified, forcing myself. "It shouldn't hurt too much. All those plugs we've been using." "I'm - I'm very frightened, Master." He looked into my eyes. I felt tears building up. "Yes, so you are." "It isn't the pain, I'm not afraid of that. It's - the whole thought. I've alway been terrified of the thought..." "Don't worry. We'll force you through." For some reason, this remark made me hard in an instant. And then the fear was wrapped up in an enormous surge of sexual desire. I wanted this. God, I wanted it so much! He felt the front of my shorts, and I doubled up with a groan. He laughed. As soon as we were inside, I stripped. My dick standing out, they led me to the table. "I think we'd better do it bending over. That way I won't hurt your wounds so much." They lent me over, and then I was tied, ankles, waist and arms, with my legs apart. Derek undressed, and as he did, I looked at him, as a man, for the first time. He was broad, heavy with muscle; his arms bulging, his legs as thick as trees, his chest and belly massive, firmly defined. His body was almost hairless, apart from the thick, black patch of pubic hair; his balls heavy and full, his dick huge, long and thick. I was fantastically aroused by him; the accumulated charge of all the sexless weeks of abuse and torture seeming to surge through me at once. I loved him, loved the beautiful curve of his feet, the slabs of his pectorals, the large erect nipples... He leant down to me and talked quietly. "Let yourself go, lad. Let go. This has to be for me, I can't be gentle. If you can give yourself, you will enjoy it, and that will be so good..." I was panting, and he was running his hands through my hair, caressing my head. He hadn't even touched the rest of my body. "Oh god, I love your hair, lad..." That was all it took. I screamed and erupted with a gigantic orgasm, completely untouched. He held me as I came down from it, laughing. "This is going to be good." Gavin was greasing my arse with something; the stimulation after my orgasm was almost unbearable. Then I felt his finger in me, and moaned. I could see Derek greasing himself, and I began to get hard again. I felt completely insatiable; my fear was swept away in a cataract of lust. "It'll hurt, lad," he said, positioning himself. "I won't spare you. Let go, now. Let go..." And on the last word he pressed into me in one endless thrust. Pain shot through my entire body, but I knew pain now; we were well acquainted, and I was amazingly untroubled by it. He waited briefly in me, and I marvelled at the feeling, part agony, part a delicious fullness, Then he started to move in me, and it was heavenly, a gorgeous, high-pitched thrill of pleasure, with the pain clawing me beneath it. I wanted it, I wanted more, I wanted him to come, I wanted it never to stop. He ran over my prostate again and again, and then I was screaming. "Oh god, Master, fuck me, fuck me!..." My fear was gone; I was transfigured. I felt him plunging in and out of me, cleansing me, scouring me, expunging everything vile and nasty and frightened. "I'm in you, lad, I'm in you, I'm going to come in you NOW..." Then he plunged into me, and I could feel the ripples of his orgasm, and I burst myself again, body and mind. It was epoch-making. It was a liberation. Then he was lying on top of me, his hands in my hair. "I made you bleed," he whispered. "My hole, or the wounds?" "Both." I laughed. "I couldn't care less. If I died now, I'd be happy." He kissed me. Really kissed me. "Hey!" said Gavin. "What about me?" Derek withdrew from me slowly and stood up. I winced. "Not sure about that, lover. He's a bit sore..." "Hey!" I said, "I already said yes. Come on, sir, get on with it, if you're MAN enough!" I laughed. "You'll suffer for that, cumbag!" yelled Gavin. But he was laughing too. At once he was in me, without preliminary. He was much smaller than Derek, and he felt delightful, a sorbet, a scherzo. And he was lively, moving in me, stimulating me in places I didn't know existed. I think he must have beaten off as Derek was fucking me, because he went on for ever. There were none of the revelations I had had earlier. But he was showing me the sheer fun of sex, its liveliness, its conviviality, and I knew that whatever happened between us later, we could never be true enemies again. Then he screeched and came. I was already deeply satisfied, and I didn't come, but it was different, a welcoming and a giving, joyful and proud. We stood hugging, all three of us, exchanging kisses, in that horrible room with the lightbulb swinging. I was deeply, deeply at peace. "God!" said Derek. "We're all covered with your fucking blood!" I felt myself. "It's okay, I'm not bleeding any more." "Okay. Get him washed down, Gavin, and cage him. And cuff him. Don't want him wasting it!" I laughed. Derek took my shoulders and looked into my eyes. "We're not stopping, you know that, don't you?" I answered his look seriously. "I know that, Master. I - I don't really want you to." "Nothing's changed." "Nothing's changed, Master, except - except everything important." "Good. You did well tonight." "Do you - do you hate me a bit less, Master?" He paused, as if wondering what it was allowed to say. "I haven't hated you for a long time now. I'm - I'm sorry I said those things. It didn't help. Good night, lad." He left. Gavin took me outside and hosed me down, laughing at me as I danced in the freezing water. Then he cuffed me and put me in the cage, still soaking wet and shivering. "Well, did you like it, Filth? Were we good?" "Shit! It was - it was incredible, sir. I can't tell you how good it was." "Even me? I'm much smaller than the Master." Just faintly, I could hear his worry. "Doesn't matter. You were brilliant too, just in a different way. The Master - well, he taught me some important things. But you - you were fun, a lot of fun." "You didn't come." "Give me a break. I'd already come twice!" He laughed. "You're okay, Filth, you know that? Yeah, it was fun." He left me. In the dark, cramped, cuffed, cold, I felt like singing. - 39 They didn't let up on me. For some reason I couldn't understand, Derek stopped whipping me. But the other things continued. I spent long, long hours chained up in the dark. Once they left me that way overnight, plugged and gagged. The next morning I was in agonies, but I was so pleased to see them that I wept for happiness. Another time, Gavin gave me an enema, but then put a plug in me, and left me standing for what seemed like hours. The cramps, and the sweating and shivering were unspeakable, and when he unchained me I collapsed, completely out of control and incoherent. Gavin had to call Derek to help him get me to the toilet, and cage me. After that, they let me sleep for the rest of the day. They did the water torture again, only this time I was wearing a hood, blinded. They dropped me in and half drowned me again and again. Of all the things they had done to me so far, this was far and away the worst. The next punishment day came and went. Now there were only three to go. Since that first time, they hadn't fucked me, and they gave me no chance to mention it; they were abrupt and curt, cold, and didn't meet my eye. It hurt me deeply, and by myself in the cage at night, I often wept. I was now constantly hard, constantly aroused. They cuffed my hands every night, and I had no relief at all. I was waiting for something, I knew they still wanted something from me, but I didn't know what it was. It was getting cold now. The trees were bare, and December was upon us. I found the nights alone in my cage bitter. - 40 One day when I woke up, I knew at once that something was different. I was lying flat on my back, and I couldn't move. I couldn't even open my eyes, but I could sense the light shining on them. "Shit!" I heard Derek say. "Was he okay when you put him in the cage last night?" "Yeah, no problems," said Gavin. "Seemed a bit quiet, but he's been like that." "He's not breathing." I felt a hand on my throat. "There's no pulse..." "Oh god. You don't mean..." "We'd better get the doctor." I heard the door, and I wanted to scream, "I'm alive! I'm alive! Can't you see me breathing?" Because I was breathing. It was shallow, and I couldn't control it, but I was, and I could feel my pulse. I was panicking, but I couldn't move. It was like a nightmare. I lay there, horror rising in me. It seemed a long, long time before they came back. I heard them talking, recognised the doctor's voice. Thank god, he would see what was happening to me... I felt him bending over me, his hands on my body, my neck. "As you said, no respiration. Doesn't seem to be a pulse either...." His hand pulled back a eyelid, and a torch shone into my eye. I still couldn't move or make any sign, although my eye stayed open. I was staring straight up, but at the edge of my vision I could see the three men moving around. "Master, I think you'll have to face it. This young man is dead." I heard Gavin start to weep. "That's - that's a terrible blow. It was - it was all working so well..." "You mustn't blame yourselves. It looks like a massive, overwhelming cerebral haemorrhage. Even if you had been there, there isn't anything you could have done." I'm alive! I screamed internally. Help me! Help me! I saw the palm of Derek's hand come down on my eye, and it was closed, blocking out everything. "The Lady hold him." "What are you going to do? I can do a certificate for you, get you an undertaker..." "No. Too many questions. I have one or two contacts - we'll bury him here, I think." I felt someone hold me, and Gavin's voice. "Oh Tol, we never - never really got to know each other. And - and we could have been friends..." And then, still screaming internally, I faded out. When I came to, my first feeling was of relief that I could now move. But it was dark, comepletely and utterly dark, and there was a closeness, a deadness in the air, which told me I was in a small space. Immediately, a dreadful, awful possibility formed in my mind, and a tide of panic began to rise inside me. I moved one arm, and immediately hit a wall, a wall covered in some slick, smooth material. Then I broke, screamed and tried to sit. My head hit the ceiling, no more than two inches above me. I scrabbled, frantically, trying to bring an arm to my face, but only after I had writhed, screaming for some minutes, could I do it; the other was trapped. I was buried alive! I have always had a total horror of enclosed spaces, and now I went frantic, screaming pointlessly for help, kickng against the top of my coffin, scratching and tearing at the lining above me. Beaten, I subsided, weeping in despair. I seemed to feel the weight of the earth above me, pressing down, down. I was going to die here! There was utterly, utterly no hope. All alone, already discarded by the human race, here I would die in this horrible box, in darkness, alone, underground. My life was already over! But instead, I had this horrible coda to suffer through, alone, pressed into this tiny space... I erupted again in panic. Oh, please, somebody, help me! The roof was so close to my face that I could feel my breath on it, and I was scratching, madly scratching at the wooden surface above me. I beat it with my fist, and I could feel the deadly solidity of the earth above me. I beat my head and my feet and my knees against it, struggling at least to bend my body, as some instinct impelled me to roll up... I collapsed, screaming my distress and despair. I don't know how many times I did this, again and again. My hand was bleeding now, my nails broken, my knees bruised. I had collapsed again, only whimpering now, when I thought I heard a small noise above me. Instantly I started screaming and screaming for help. I listened again. Nothing. I screamed some more, but again, nothing. The despair after that tiny hope was awful. For five, ten minutes I lay in that merciless darkness, whimpering to myself. And then I heard it again. Louder, more continuously. I screamed myself hoarse, and then again there was silence, now for a long, long, terrible time. Then - oh, wonderful! - they were working on the box itself, and then the lid slid aside, and the light and glorious fresh air came in. I threw myself out of the coffin, terrified that they might shut it again, and there were Derek and Gavin. I flung myself at Derek's feet, screaming and sobbing. "Oh Master, oh Master, thank you, thank you..." "Tol. Look at me." I looked up at him, my eyes full of tears. "You're mine, now. You're mine." "Master!" "Give yourself to me, Tol. Give yourself..." I looked at him, and then it happened: a vast, overflowing rush of emotion swamped me, sweeping everything before it. And when it died away, I knew what it meant. I was his. I had submitted. I was his slave. "Stand up, Tol." I stood. "What are you?" I hung my head. "Your slave." There was a long pause, as I tried to get control of my emotions. "Lift your head. Look at me." I did so. "Don't hang your head. Don't drop your eyes. No slave of mine does that. My slaves are proud! Are you proud?" I stared into his eyes, straightened and smiled. Proud! Suddenly I was overwhelmed by it, by pride, by my sense of achievement. I, the child-beater, the scum of the earth, despised by all, I had become the slave of this great and good man! "Yes, Master! I'm proud!" "Then kneel, and lick my boots. And feel it." I did it. I knelt, and I licked his boots. I loved them and caressed them, and as I did it, I felt better and better, more and more part of him, greater and better. "Gavin. Lick the other one." I saw him start. We looked at each other for a moment, and smiled. - 41 Gavin and I were sitting on the floor in my hut, leaning against the wall, our arms round each other's shoulders. I was still naked. "Cage him," Derek had said. "You need some rest, Tol. Tonight you'll eat in our hut. You can chat for a while if you like, Gavin." It was a comfortable feeling, kind and brotherly. I hadn't felt like this for many, many years. I felt an urge to giggle. "Is it - is it always like this for you, sir?" "Like what?" "Bowled over. Happy. Wanting to - to do anything, anything he wants. Just not caring what happens, so long as it's what he wants. Just - well, wanting to be part of him..." "Sometimes." He giggled, and I joined in. "Quite often. If he just - well, tells me to do something wild, it all comes back. Or when he whips me or something like that. Then it does. Most of the time it's, well, just there, in the background." "You always - well - feel like his slave?" "Always. Always, always. It's part of what I am. I'm not always licking his boots and calling him 'sir'. We don't need that. We - we're friends as well. And lovers. But I never forget who's Master. Never, ever." I hugged him. "Things'll be a bit different now," he said. "Just as hard for you, but - the atmosphere. It'll be a bit different. This is what the Master has been aiming for all along. But you resisted so hard. Brother, you're one hard fucker, you know?" "That coffin thing was awful. Sir - I can't tell you how awful it was. The water thing was bad enough, but it's nothing compared." "Yes. We really had to smash you to get through. Special drug, from Japan, made of some kind of fish. You have to be so, so careful with the dose - or you would have been dead for real! That was wild. We could hear you in that thing, that coffin in the other hut, screaming, and we - we were there - and the Master was fucking me. Wild." "You were getting off on my screams?" "Yeah." "Wow. You can't imagine how horny that makes me." We smiled at each other. "Come on. I'd better cuff you and put you in the cage. I'll be back later." - 42 I was so awash with delight and excitement that I couldn't think and didn't really sleep. Later Gavin came and washed me down. Then he gave me a towel - he'd never done that before - and once I was dry, he walked me, still naked, to yet another hut. It was a cold, crisp night, the stars bright and hard, and I was shivering by the time we got there. Inside it was beautiful. Warm, decorated, soft furniture, an elaborate kitchen, a sound system, a TV. I thought I was in heaven. Derek looked at me. "Down on the floor, Filth. Hands and knees. Don't get up unless I tell you." I obeyed, trembling with excitement. Then he was strapping me, up and down my back, and before long I was yelping with pain. He had strapped me endless times before; I had got used to it, but this was different. This time I wanted it. It hurt, but I wanted it, because he was doing it. I was amazed at myself. He strapped me on and on, I was weeping from the pain, but I was filled with joy. Finally he stopped. "Well done, lad. You're doing well. Tomorrow we'll whip you, and then you'll find out a thing or two. But now: here's your prize." He pushed my face against his dick, and I could feel he was hard. I shivered with excitement. "Kneel up. Open it and take me." I unzipped him, and gently, so gently, took his dick out. And then - I had blown him endless times already, done it well, but this was quite, quite different. This was my Master, and I was lost in the wonder of the moment. I took in his smell and his taste, and delighted. I licked him, caressed him with my lips, rolled his foreskin back so slowly and worshipped the head. I was enraptured, and when he told me to take it in my mouth, I thought I would faint. Before, I had taunted him, bringing to the edge several times, but this was not the occasion for that. I worked slowly, slowly, bringing him towards the point, and then, taking him into my throat, I pushed harder and harder, faster and faster. It was one single long crescendo, and then he was coming massively in my throat and mouth, and I felt his hands in my hair. I was on the edge of coming myself, but I knew instinctively that I should not, and managed to hold off. "Zip me up." Gently I did it. "Tol. Look at me." I looked up into his eyes, smiling hesitantly. "Thank you. That makes it all worth while. Are you proud?" "Yes, Master." "You should be. That was a fucking work of art." Then he clapped his hands. "Right, Gavin! Put the supper on the table. Put Filth's on the floor." He did. They sat to eat, and I knelt on the floor, but he let me use a fork. The food was just a plate of pasta with a mushroom sauce, but to me it was ambrosia compared to the catfood I'd been eating. "Okay," he said, "Here's the rule, Filth. You're my slave. I shall make sure you're never hurt permanently. But you're also a ward of the way, you have no safeword. You'll have to trust me. Is that hard?" "No, Master." "Gavin is the senior slave. You will call him 'sir', and obey him always. His position will never be changed. Do you understand?" It hurt, but I understood. And I was so excited and happy that I hated the idea that Gavin might not be happy too. "Of course. I understand, Master." "Blow him." I crawled under the table, unzipped him and began. This time I wanted to have some fun with him, and I brought him to the edge again and again, till he was moaning, folded over the table, and then only did I let him come. "Thank him." "Thank you, sir, for letting me suck your dick." "Shit! You'll kill me doing that one of these days!" Derek laughed. "Come on, I feel like some music." There was a piano, and he sat behind it. Gavin and I sat in the sofa and cuddled. I didn't know what he would give us, and was a bit surprised when it was the Goldberg Variations. He saw my look, and laughed. "Hey, Filth, you think you've got me taped, you snobby little fucker?" "No, Master, never that." "Nah. Actually, that's true, now I think of it. It's in your notes. 'Subject shows surprisingly few signs of social snobbery.' Shoulda remembered that." I held Gavin tightly as the music wound and unwound. I hadn't realised till now, but I was fancying him strongly, and I was hard. He was lovely. The warmth of the room was delicious and I found myself nodding off. We were woken by Derek's laughter. "Aw, the sleeping babes. It's a shame to wake you, but let's go to bed." I was expecting to be taken back to my cage, but I wasn't. Derek laid me on a mat at the foot of their bed, and shackled me to the legs. "Okay?" "Oh, yes, Master." It was. The idea of sleeping so near him was exciting in itself, and in any case a mat in the warmth was a thousand times more comfortable than the cold bars of the cage. I snuggled down, my dick still hard. Soon I could hear that they were getting into each other, and then it was clear that Gavin was being fucked. It was suddenly very painful to me. I lay there with my dick hard, trying not to let my weeping be heard. Then they were finished. "What shall we do about poor old Filth, then, lover?" He wanted to drive the lesson home. "If you like, I'll blow him." "Eh? You're all surprises these days. Go ahead, then." And Gavin got out of bed, and then I could feel the warmth of his mouth on me. I was weeping fully now, with happiness, and in no time, after such a supercharged day, I was shooting. Then he kissed me, as I wept. "Let the poor sod get into bed with us," said Derek. "But cuff him." Gavin did it, and in no time I found myself sandwiched between them, still weeping. "Hey! What's all this about, then?" Derek whispered in my ear. "Master, I'm so, so happy. I've never been so happy in my life." They both hugged me. I heard Derek laugh quietly. "Want me to confuse you, Filth?" "Er - how, Master?" "Know what I do for a living?" "No, Master. I've no idea." "I'm the professor of high-energy physics at the University of Lorset." I giggled. "Then I don't suppose I did earn as much in a month as you do in a year, Master." "Maybe not. Oh well, poetic licence." "Yes, Master. And Gavin? What does he do?" "He's my best postdoc student." "Wow! He looks as if he's only about twenty!" Gavin was already asleep. "Twenty-one, actually. Yeah, he's a fucking genius, that one. You wouldn't believe." "He's very cute, Master." "Bad thought, slave, bad thought." He squeezed my balls viciously. But he was laughing. I drifted off to a dreamless and blessed sleep. - 43 When I woke the next day, Gavin was nowhere to be seen, and Derek was looking at me. "Hey! Wake up now, slave!" For a moment I was confused; then I focused, and realised where I was, and smiled. "You still my slave, Filth?" Was I! It all surged back in an instant. I got out of bed and knelt on the floor. "Nice. As you're there..." He looked at me quizzically for a moment. "I wonder. Well, why not. Get your mouth round my cock, Filth." I did it, glorying again in his taste and smell. I thought I would never get tired of moments like this. "Now Tol, look at me." I did. He was suddenly very serious. "I'm going to piss in your mouth, Tol. I want you to swallow it all, understand? If I'm going too fast, squeeze me gently with your lips while you swallow." He paused. Inside, I was in tumult. I had never been into this sort of thing; I was fastidious and squeamish in my personal habits, fanatical about cleanliness, and the thought disgusted me. But I wanted to please him, and the idea of doing something really nasty, just because he wanted it, was intoxicating. He pressed me, hard. "You're going to do this, Tol. This is your Master speaking. I won't accept any excuses; you're going to do it. Here we GO..." Then my mouth was flooded with it. It tasted bitter, rank, and as I swallowed, I was on the point of vomiting. I squeezed him for a moment, cutting his flow, and gathered myself. Then I let it go. He pissed and pissed, and I took it all, hating it, loving it. By the end I was rock hard. I smiled up at him, triumphant. "Well done, lad. Well done. That was cruel of me. I won't ask you to do it again, but I wanted to see how far we could go." "I don't mind, Master. Do it whenever you wish." "I don't WISH to do it again! Who's the Master here, eh?" He slapped my face. I was devastated. "Go and wash your mouth out." When I came back, they were both there, dressed ready for a run. We set out. Gavin and I were playing like kids, pushing and jostling each other. Derek let it go for a bit, then shouted at us. "Hey, hey, HEY! Holiday's over! Stop that NOW!" We stood looking at him. "Gavin, punch him in the stomach. Hard. DO IT!" And he did, and I dropped, groaning. "Now kick his balls. Again!" I was thrashing in agony. He looked down at me. "You need to remember, Filth, that you're here to work. Let's get on with it." With my emotions in a turmoil, we continued with the run. When we got back to my hut, he took me in his arms and kissed me. "You're going to be all right, Tol. I know it. But you must concentrate. We have work to do." "Yes, Master. I'm very sorry." "Right. I'm going to whip you. You know what we're about, now. Show me what you can do. I'm your Master. Show me what you can give me." Gavin tied me to the cross, and gave me a smile. Derek started to whip me, gently to start with. I thought of him. I thought of him and the moment I had given myself to him, and it was easy, so easy. The pain was mounting, and I was in no trouble at all, I was giving myself and it was easy. Then, just as the pain was beginning to reach me, something clicked, and suddenly I was in raptures. There was just me, and the sensation, and the knowledge that I was his, that he could do what he wished with me... It got higher and higher, wilder and wilder, and at that moment he could have killed me and I wouldn't have cared. And then I came, and the universe exploded. I was out of the bonds, and both of them were holding me, kissing me, stroking me. And I was weeping, deep awful sobs, and pain and loneliness were flowing out of me, and away. Finally I quietened down. "There now," said Derek. "That's all we ever wanted from you, Tol. That's all we ever wanted." - 44 That evening, Derek fucked me again. Lying on my back, my arms fastened above me but the rest of my body free, I looked up into my Master's eyes as he entered me, and it was totally different. He kissed me, and my body accepted him without any pain at all. I felt soft and malleable, completely unresisting. He moved within me fiercely, and I gave and gave. I came twice before he had finished, and by the end I was out of it, only semiconscious, in a different realm, a world of surrender and dissolution. They hugged me gently till I recovered. Then I was back in my cage. The next day was Monday. I had hoped that my submission would somehow carry me through the torture, but it didn't in any way. I was in agony, and I bled seriously, so seriously that the next day they let me rest. But now there were only two punishment sessions to go. After that, it was life as usual. The brutalities, the harshness, the cruelties and the beatings didn't stop, but as Gavin said, there was a difference. It was a while before I could pin down what it was: that I was no longer just a subject; I was participating. I entered it with joy. I invited it. One day, Derek came into my hut at lunchtime. "Come here, both. Sit." I was surprised. I hadn't used a chair there even once. We sat at the table looking at each other. "We have a trial ahead. There's going to be another visitation. This time there'll be six of them." "What - what do they want, Master?" "What do they want. Well. Supper, to start with. And they'll want to see you, Tol." "See me? What for?" "They want... Oh hell. There's no easy way to say this, lad. These men are coming here - to - to fuck you." I stared at him, thunderstruck. "Oh, no. Oh please, Master, not that. Please!" "I've fucked you. So's Gavin." "That's different! You - you're my Master! I belong to you! And Gavin, he's your slave, he's part of you almost - and he's my - he's my friend! I can't... I can't do it with strangers, with just anyone!" "You have no choice. I protested. It's far too early for something like that. You've only just... You're a very new slave. It's bad practice, it's dangerous. But they didn't care. They say it's - part of the punishment. So I had to give way." I was weeping. It seemed worse even than before, a violation of something precious and private between us. "Who are they, Master? Not... not Maxim? Please, not him." "No. Not him. At least, not him. I wonder why not? Some people I've heard of. Desmond, Paul... I'd have thought better of him; some others. And a Slovian, Vladek." "Vladek!" I stared at him, open-mouthed. "Master, he is - Aron's Master!" "How do you know?" "Master Alan told me." "That's not all I know about him. Bloody fools and idiots. Hamfisted morons..." "Master, please... Can't I be spared that, at least?" Tears were pouring down my face. "No. You can't be spared anything. Sorry, Tol, we'll just have to get though this. Afterwards, I'll do what I can." "What can I do, sir?" said Gavin. "Lover, I don't want you here. I want you off this site this evening." "What?!" He was staring at Derek in astonishment. "I don't know what they might do to you. I don't know them; I don't trust them. I can't handle both of you. And you - well, lover, you lose your temper, and we can't have that." "Sir!" "I know you want to help. The best thing you can do is to help me cook, and then fuck off." Gavin's expression was unreadable. "Your orders, sir." Derek looked at him for moment. "Come here and kiss me. Do it!" Gavin obeyed. They kissed for a long time. "I'm sorry, sir," Gavin whispered, and his eyes were wet. "Okay, lover. Just trust me, remember? Right. Cage him. Get some sleep if you can, Filth..." Of course, I couldn't sleep. The blissful calm of the last days was wrecked. I was rebelling, full of resentment. It was so unfair! The punishment was laid down. How could they change it? Fucking me! It was as if they knew how I felt about it. And - and how could they treat my Master in the way? I lay, seething. Much later, I heard the van leave. Then Derek came to get me. He was carrying clothes for me; trousers, a white shirt, sneakers. "Okay, son, get dressed. Here we go. Just keep your cool, keep detached, don't let them get to you. And trust me." He kissed me, and I responded frantically. He hugged me as we walked to their hut. "Set the table. For seven." "Yes, Master." Looking for things occupied my mind. He was in the kitchen; I could hear the sounds of cooking. I set wine glasses, napkins. "Looks good. Right, lad. Here they come." I could hear cars arriving. "You'd better be kneeling, over there. Don't speak unless they speak to you. Call everyone 'sir'; only call me 'master'. And - do everything they say, son. There's no way out of it." "Yes, Master. I hope - I won't make you ashamed." He smiled at me, and they knocked at the door. - 45 He opened. "Please come in, Masters. Paul. Desmond." "Thank you, Derek," said Paul. "This is Vladek... Robert... Mark... William." They greeted each other. "So," said Robert. "This is your criminal, then." "Yes, Master, this is Tolgrund Burnley." "I'm sure you don't call him that." I looked up, met his eye, and he casually slapped my face, backhand. I didn't look down. "No; we call him Filth." "Filth! I like it. So - you haven't given him an entirely free ride, then, Master? Or has this been JUST a holiday in the country?" "Take your clothes off, Filth," said Derek. I obeyed. And as they looked at me, I saw that Derek had made his point. "Good god almighty," said Paul quietly. "Hm. Crude, but pretty - comprehensive, at any rate." "Where's the oik, Master?" That was William. "The OIK?" "You know, the oik Anthony gave you. Cute, but oh dear!" "Dr Gavin Hanford is not here." "Doctor? Good lord. They give one of those to anyone these days. What on earth is he doctor of, might one ask?" "Physics. His dissertation dealt with a certain high-energy phenomenon; what is now called the Hanford Transition. But I don't think you'd be concerned, Master; a third class degree in estate management scarcely equips one to deal with such matters." This was a new Derek. I was astonished, and vastly proud of him. "There's no call to be offensive, Master," said Desmond. "No, indeed. Let's just take it that Dr Hanford is my true slave, under my protection, and pass on. Shall we have supper, Masters?" "Supper!" hooted William. "Oh, yes, supper, by all means." I heard the sneer in his voice and I riled. I longed to tear into them; in the old days, no one was better at it than me. I hurt for my Master, until he winked at me, and I realised he really didn't give a damn what they thought, that he never gave a damn what anyone thought. I smiled to myself. They ate, ignoring me, exchanging small talk. Vladek said nothing, and Paul and Mark very little. Finally, coffee was served. "Well, now, let's get to the main course," said William. "Bring on the slut!" "Very well. But it's my duty to say, as I said to Desmond, that I protest this very strongly. The punishment laid down has been faithfully carried out, as you can see. To add another sanction at this stage is dishonorable." "Derek," said Paul, "He himself laid no limits on his treatment. We can do as we wish, and he has no say in the matter. He is lucky to be alive." "If at this stage you are going to rely on the letter of the law in deciding how best to act, then to my regret, old friend, I have nothing to say to you." I could see Paul wince. "Oh, lord, Derek," said Desmond, "It's just a few fucks! You're making far too much of an issue of this." "He is in the earliest stage of full submission. He is centred on me, but he is very labile. This - gang rape - could disrupt everything, and I shall be left to clear up the mess." "Full submission?" said Paul, "You have achieved that with him?" "Yes." "How the devil do you say you've done that?" said Desmond. "It'll all be in my report. Despite what you may think, Masters, I am neither soft nor crude." "Full submission? What on earth are you talking about? All this psychological mumbo-jumbo. I suppose it'll be mandalas in a moment. Lord, what tosh." That was William again. "I see that it's not only in estate management that you've achieved third-class honours, Master." God! That was lovely! "Enough," said a new voice. I saw it was Vladek; his English was fluent and exact, but strongly accented. "Whether he is in full submission does not concern me. I am here to enjoy myself, and to cause him as much pain as possible. His future does not interest me in the slightest. If his psychological state is disrupted by what happens, then so much the better. I am sorry for the nuisance it may cause you, Master, but I have no doubt you are being paid adequately for your work." "No, Master, I am not being paid," said Derek mildly. "Some of us are not mercenaries, you know." Whatever this referred to, it hit Vladek squarely and in a moment he was at my Master's throat. It took three of the others to pull him off. "Masters, this is becoming completely unseemly," said Paul. "Before we proceed, I wish to talk to Burnley myself. Alone. Does anyone dispute that I may do this?" Something was going on. My political antennae, so long unused, tingled. No one said anything. "You may use the next hut," said Derek. "It's heated." "Thank you. Burnley. Come with me." I rose and followed him. - 46 "What is this place?" "This is where the punishments are carried out, sir." "I see. You lie here? You are tied?" "Yes, sir." "And what does he use?" "These canes, sir." I gestured to the tub of brine where they were kept. "Good god. That's - that's utterly ferocious." "It's certainly very painful, sir. I bleed. Usually I cannot walk." "Yes. And - what do think of all this?" I paused. He was cool, but not hostile, and for some reason I trusted him. "Perhaps you heard what I said to Mistress Chris, sir? The punishment - it has given me a framework. A way out, maybe. Out of - of my guilt." "You feel guilt, about what you did to Aron Chernik?" He looked at me curiously. I thought of Aron, and the terrible time in the cottage, and began to weep. "I don't know how I can convince you, sir, but yes." "Tell me about what happened when you submitted. What did he do to you?" "I was - was buried alive." "You were WHAT?" I described what had happened. "What an amazing story. And then?" "When they let me out, I was - I was just so pleased to be out, so pleased to see him, I can't describe it, but everything just turned upside down, and..." "You needn't go on. It was wonderful, was it?" "Oh yes, yes sir. Everything has been wonderful since then..." "And how long ago was this?" "Less than a week, sir." "Enough. I'm convinced. I shall not take part in this - this travesty, at any rate." "Th-thank you, sir. Sir? May I ask a question?" "Mm? Yes, lad, go ahead." "Why is Master Maxim not here?" "He's - he's not well. There was a tragedy. It was the day he was here. Colin and Anya - they were killed. In a car crash. Colin - he was Maxim's old Master, his Mentor. Perhaps you can understand, now, what that means." I did. It suddenly made a lot of things clearer. "And Anya was - well, really, all the rest of his family. At the moment he's off the rails, really, he can't handle things. And - certain people have used that as an opportunity to - get hold of - of Aron." "Sir! What are you saying?!" He looked at me. "Ah. I see. Still." "I can't help caring..." "No. I don't blame you. Actually, I'm pleased. Well. He was already getting to know Vladek. Vladek and some friends - persuaded - some important people in our world that Aron should go into training with him. For his protection, they said. It's not clear to me - that he consented." "WHAT?!" "It sometimes happens. When a youngster is out of control. Sometimes they need direction." "Aron - he does NOT need direction, sir!" "I agree. If Anthony had been well, he would have stopped it. But Anthony is not well. Hell, why shouldn't I be frank? Anthony is dying." "Oh. Oh, sir." "Yes. I see you understand. You understand things like that, don't you? Well. Speak to your Master for me." "Yes, sir. I will." "And now we must go back. I'm impressed by you, young man. Stick with it. And - consider me a friend." "Thank you, sir. Thank you very much." - 47 "Well," said Paul. "I have spoken to him. And I think, Master," - here he bowed to Derek - "That we owe you an apology. What has been proposed is wrong, and I shall play no part in it. I shall leave now." "I stay. And continue," said Desmond. "I also," said Vladek. "I shall leave with you, Master," said Mark. I recognised it. It was starting here, before my eyes; a plain, honest-to-goodness succession battle, and an exceptionally nasty one. I saw my Master looking at me, and dared to wink. He made an expression of puzzlement. "Very well. Good night, Master," said Paul to Derek, "Masters." He and Mark left. "Well, now that's out of the way," said William, "Lead us to your bedroom, Master! I like to be comfortable!" "I think I'd prefer you to use the other hut. It's warm, and there is a bed. Come on, Filth." He led the way, his hand defiantly on my shoulder. I'd been distracted, but now I was starting to feel frightened. "This is the punishment hut." "How very appropriate," sneered Vladek. Now that I knew what I knew, I hated the sound and sight of him. I was poleaxed by the strength of my hatred. "William - get the camera," he went on. "Camera?" said Derek. "No one said anything about a camera." "Master, you are in no position to interfere. I suggest you go to bed." William had got his equipment from the car, and was setting it up. "Me first," said Vladek. "Come here, Filth." He was sitting on the bed. I stared at him. "You hate me. Good." "What are you doing here, sir? If you are Aron's Master, why are you catting around with me?" He backhanded me. "Shut the fuck up, slut." I was bursting with fury. I barely restrained myself from attacking him. "I despise you. You have no pride, sir." He punched me, and I doubled up. Then he kneed me in the groin. I made no sound as he flung me on the bed. Then he merely opened his fly, and was on me. It was agony. His dick was not long, but enormously thick, and tore me viciously. He plunged in and out of me for ages, pulling my head back by my hair and biting my neck. In the end he discharged into me. It was disgusting. He pulled out of me, and started prowling round the room. I noticed that blood from the wounds on my arse had splattered his trousers, and I was glad. Desmond was next. He had stripped, revealing a large, white, almost hairless body. When he fell on me, I felt flattened, obliterated. I couldn't feel anything for him. His dick was fairly small, and after Vladek scarcely hurt me. He came incredibly loudly, screaming and beating on me with his fists. Then it was William. He turned me over on my back and forced me to pull my legs round his hips, so that he could look at me. This was worse, far worse. He tried to kiss me, and when I turned away, slapped and punched me. His dick was thin, but incredibly long, and I could feel it snaking deep into my bowels. I struggled not to cry, not to show anything. "Don't cry, slut," he said. "You're going to love this." And he started to slither in and out of my depths, wriggling back and forth inside me, and a horrible, sickly pleasure came to me. I loathed it. I felt besmirched and violated in a way the others hadn't achieved. I was getting hard, and my mind was collapsing. He went on and on, I felt as if I was sinking into a pit of slime and ordure, and then, sickeningly, I came, hating myself, hating the world. I hardly felt him come. Then it was Robert. He took me from behind, and he stank; my body crawled where it touched him. But I was barely coherent now, I couldn't track what he was doing, or when he left me. I curled into a ball, shaking. "Hey, look what I've found!" yelled Vladek, and then I heard the sound of the cane smashing onto the table. "Yes! Let's try it out! We can report back on how effective your measures are, sir," he said to Derek. "NO! No, you don't! There was no agreement..." There was a click. William had pulled a gun on him. "Now, you just sit down and watch the show, Master. Don't worry. We won't kill him. Not quite, anyhow." Then Robert was dragging me to the table, and I was laid over the end, quite unable to defend myself. "Get the camera over here!" said Vladek; then leaning over me, "Bedtime TV for Aron. Won't that be nice?" Then he started. He didn't hit as hard as my Master, nothing like; but his strokes were wild, frantic, endless, hitting my arse, my legs, my back. I could feel blood running from all over me, and the pain was indescribable. "Mind his fucking kidneys!" yelled Derek. The blows fell on my shoulders, wrapping round my ribs. I couldn't tell how many there were; I passed out. - 48 I came too, and panicked immediately, screaming and struggling. But Derek was there, looking down at me, yelling. "I'm here, Tol, I'm here! Centre on me! Centre!" Gradually I quietened, staring up at him, sobbing. I was on their bed, and he was holding my shoulders down. Gavin lay beside me, holding me, and I could feel him weeping. "There. That's better. Now. Let's get a good look at you." "No, Master - no - fuck me, Master! Fuck me now! Now!" I was in agony all over my body, but it was the thought of what they had done to me which was breaking me as I spoke. I could still feel William's dick, squirming its way through my innards, and it was unsupportable. "Please, Master! I want you in me now!" I was insatiable, grabbing him, kissing, folding my legs round him, hauling him down onto me. And he came to me, his massive dick entering my agony, pushing into to me, and down, down into my wounded depths. "Oh, my god, Tol!" "Just - fuck me! Fuck me!" I urged him on, thrusting myself up over him, my heels on his back, and he started to move, harder and harder, the pain cleaning me, seering me, reoccupying my body, making it his again, freeing me. And then he gave a great anguished shout, and I could feel his blessed, healing seed flooding me. "Now you, sir. Fuck me. You too, sir, I need it!" Gavin moved onto me, his tears dropping onto my face, and entered me in his turn. And the memory came to me of the delight he had given me before, the lightness and the happiness, and I felt the horror lifting as he plunged into me. I smiled up at him, and then he came. "Thank you, thank you..." I was holding them both, kissing. "That was more important than any of them." We lay for a long time, as I held them. "Lord, we're a mess!" said Derek. We were covered in my blood, and the sheets were soaked in it; we were almost stuck together with it. "Come on, I'll help you shower. Gavin, lover, change the sheets." "Yes, sir." He helped me into the bathroom, and started the shower. He got in with me, and the warm water gradually swept it away, the blood, the touch of their bodies, as he gently, gently washed me, my body, my arse. He patted me dry while Gavin showered in his turn. Then they took me back to the bed, and they tended my wounds. There were cuts from the cane all over the backs of my legs, my arse, my back, my sides, and I winced as they worked. "Tol," said Derek. "I am so proud of you. You were so fucking strong. You know what he said to that bastard, Vladek? 'I despise you. You have no pride.'" Gavin laughed. "He has Aron," I said. "Well, if he's his Master..." "He isn't, Master. Well, not really." And I told them what Paul had said. "I see. Anthony dying, eh? I see." "Master, I think... I'm sorry, Master, I must say it. I think Paul was offering me his friendship. In exchange... in exchange for persuading you to support him." "Shit. So he was. You're good at that stuff, aren't you? You know your way around all that political crap." "I'm not proud of it, Master. All that - all that's in the past." "Never despise a skill, son, no matter how you got it..." He sighed. "I shall miss Anthony. He saved me. I owe him a lot. Everything." "So do I," said Gavin. "He saved my fucking life!" "The Lady hold him. Well. The least we can do is not let that brutal fucker Desmond take over. That would be the end. I'd have supported Paul anyhow, Tol." I shifted uneasily, and he laughed. "Don't worry, I won't undersell myself. I'm too old a bird for that. When you've done university politics, anything else is a doddle, I can tell you." "Master, what do they want with Aron?" "Maxim's very close to Paul, and Aron is his protege, has been for a long time. They'll want to use him as a hostage, in a way. Also to humiliate Paul and his friends, make them worry. Also... They're sadists, Tol, like me and all these others. But it seems they've got a few screws loose. Specially Vladek and William. They'll enjoy - hurting him." "Oh, god. I could bear - could bear not seeing him again, so long as I thought he was happy. Now..." "It's going to be a bad time, son, for everyone." "Why do they bother with me, then? I mean - I'm no one. Less than no one." "Now they're the great defenders against abusers and people like you. Paul, Maxim - yes, and Anthony - and the rest of us: we're the ones who are being slack and weak. That's how they'll play it." "Vladek said he wanted the films for Aron." "Yeah, the bastard. Great mindfuck material. 'Course, you were meant to scream and beg and behave pathetically and make a disgrace of yourself. But you didn't. I was proud of you. You know, all the time they were fucking him, he didn't make a sound? Not one bloody sound." "You should have heard what the Master said about you, DOCTOR Gavin, sir!" "You didn't!" "'Let's just take it that Dr Hanford is my true slave and under my protection, and move on.' That's after he called you an 'oik'." "Who did?!" "That slimey bugger William," said Derek. "Half-wit." "He was the worst," I said quietly. "He was the one who really got to me. That's why I had to have you fuck me. I could still - feel his horrible dick, worming into me..." "Tell us, Tol. Come on. Let's have it all. Let's have the worst bit." I turned my face away. "He made me come," I whispered. "Say it again." "He made me come, Master." "Yeah. Well, it happens. You can make anyone come, if you get their prostate. Doesn't mean a fucking thing." "I didn't come with you just now." "You didn't want it, did you? Not then." I smiled. "No. But I do now." "Christ!" said Derek. "Not me! I'm bushed. You do it, lover!" "Yeah," I murmured. "Come on, Dr Hanford..." So he did, and it was like spring sunshine, like running through long grass, like autumn firelight, bright and happy and full of laughter. And I came and came, and fell asleep with him still in me. - 49 The next day they let me rest. I lay on the bed in the punishment hut, dipping in and out of sleep. Derek came and talked to me for a long time, about what had happened, about what Paul had said. I felt my strength return. The day after that was punishment. They wanted to postpose it, but I persuaded them not to; I was in sight of the end, and wanted to press ahead. I bled dreadfully. They let me rest for yet another day, and now there was only one more session to go. The next day we returned to routine, and they didn't spare me. I was now carrying seven weights on my balls, and they were indeed hanging far lower. I regarded them with amused pride. That night I slept again in my cage, my hands cuffed as usual, my body shrieking with bruises and whip welts. I was content, smiling. All this no longer bothered me at all, and I gave and gave, delighting in my Master's pleasure. One afternoon, Gavin came to see me; I was standing in the chains. I saw at once that he had been crying. He stood looking at me, an unreadable expression on his face. "The Master says - he says - he says you're going to leave us." I stared at him, thunderstruck. "You bastard! You come here to us - you turn everything upside down..." He punched me viciously in the belly, again and again. "We do everything for you - the Master does everything - then you just fuck off!" I was in agony. He untied my wrists, and I fell to the ground. "Bastard! Cunt! Bastard!" "Sir! I don't know anything about..." He was kicking me, on and on, heavy brutal blows, in the groin, the belly, the ribs. His boot struck my face and I started to bleed. "The Master's in there, crying, because he's losing you, and there's nothing I can do! We were okay before you came along, the Master and me, and now look at us!" "GAVIN!!" Derek stood in the doorway, his face like thunder. "I LOVE you, Tol, you stupid bloody fucking bastard!" Gavin shrieked, kicking me for the last time. "Go AT ONCE to the punishment hut and wait there!" yelled Derek. Gavin gave a cry and obeyed. Derek helped me to a chair. I hawked and spat blood. "You okay?" "Yeah. I'm sorry, Master..." "YOU'RE sorry? I'M sorry, Tol. I should have thought." "I hadn't thought about - after. About what would happen. Master, I - I don't want to leave!" "No. And I don't want you to either. But there it is. You have to learn more things, things I can't teach you..." "I don't want to! I want to stay here with you! And with him." "You haven't any choice. I'll miss you - very badly. You - Tol - to be a Master, you know, you have to love. To love your slave. When he gives, really gives, you can't help it. And you really gave. It's - it's going to be hard for both of us." "You'll always be my Master!" "Yes. In a sense. But - things will change. We'll keep in touch. If you wish - there'll be a time when you'll need a Mentor, Tol..." "Oh yes, Master, oh yes. Who else could it be but you?" He smiled. "Come on. We'd better talk to Gavin." He dropped a hand on my shoulder. He seemed somehow older. Gavin was lying on the bed, wracked with sobs. "Stand up!" yelled Derek. Gavin obeyed. "You abused my slave! You mistreated the man placed in my care, a ward of the way! He was defenceless, helpless, and you took advantage of that, and abused him! What have you got to say for yourself, punk?" "Master, I'm sorry!" "Apologise to him, you vicious little fucker!" "I'm sorry, Tol, I'm so sorry!" "Kneel and kiss his feet." He did it, and I felt something turn over inside me. I was not enjoying this at all. "There must be punishment. Since we are here - five strokes of the cane. Is that fair?" "Y-yes, Master, thank you, yes, that's fair..." "Then strip. Tie him up, Tol." He did, and I obeyed, in turmoil. He lay over the table, helpless, and I thought what a beautiful arse he had, how lovely his back was, stretched like that. "You do it, Tol. Get the cane and do it." And then it came, the desire, like a thing long forgotten but suddenly remembered, fresh, glinting and new. He was so beautiful, so helpless, and I longed for his pain, longed to feed on it, rejoice in it. But this time it was different. It was part of me now, within me, and I controlled it with ease. Because this was wrong. I couldn't do it; it was wrong. "Master - Master, please don't ask me. Please." "I'm asking you. I'm ordering you. Do it!" "Master, I have no safeword. All I can do is refuse. Master, I can't do this!" I flung myself at his feet, weeping, my submission at war with what I knew was right. I was disobeying my dear Master. It was horrible. "Stand up, Tol. Now. Why can't you do it?" "Master, he's your slave, not mine. He hasn't consented to this. I have no right." "Do you consent, slave? Can Tol give you the strokes?" "Oh yes, sir, yes!" "You see? He consents. Do it, Tol!" "Master, I still can't. He is the senior slave. Master, I - I can't threaten his position like this. It's bad enough that I'm here, and he has made me welcome, until this happened. No, Master, I can't - I'm sorry, Master..." I was weeping again. There was a long pause. He was looking at me with an amazed expression, his eyes glistening. "Very well. I will do it. Five strokes." "Master, please, that's too much for what he did. I know. Five strokes would be - terrible. Please, Master." "I seem be to be hearing rather a lot from you, Filth." But he was smiling. "Very well - one stroke. Hold his head." And I held him, as he had done so often for me, and leant over him. "Just one stroke," I whispered. "Just one. Hold on." Derek ran up several paces, then let fly with all his strength. I was looking, and I saw the immaculate curve of his cheeks blossom with the livid red stripe, and thanked god there was no blood. I kissed his cheek, and he whimpered. And I was hard, hard and throbbing, enraptured, engulfed by his pain. "Leave this punk to consider things," said Derek. "You and I need to talk, young man." "I didn't plan this," he said, as we sat with a cup of coffee in the delicious warmth of their hut. "But I'm glad it happened. I saw you. You wanted to, didn't you?" "Yes, Master." "But you didn't. Was that hard?" "It was hard to disobey you. Oh, Master, I'm sorry..." "Hush. Was it hard to control it? Hard to say no to it?" "No, Master, that was easy... Oh, wow." I stared at him. "Wow indeed." I was weeping, weeping with relief, like someone reprieved from a terminal illness. "Thank you, Master..." "It's been a great work, Tol. Lots of people have helped. Alan, Chris, me, Gavin. But above all, you. Above all, you. I'm more pleased than I can say." "Thank you, Master." "There's just one thing. He would have taken five. Gladly. He wanted them, Tol. He consented to them. And you would have enjoyed it, wouldn't you? Wouldn't you? "Yes, Master." I was a bit ashamed. "I - I admit I enjoyed the one." "But you wouldn't give him more. You need to think about that, Tol. You need to think about that a lot." I stared at him, unable to grasp the point he was making. "Enough. I'll put you in your cage. And then Gavin and me need a long talk, I think." As I lay in my cage, I thought of leaving my Master, and nearly despaired. - 50 The next day was was the last punishment session. Gavin came to get me; we smiled at each other shyly, but said nothing of the events of the day before. Then it was the ten strokes, as always, and again I bled dreadfully. The long wait passed, and then finally, the last ten strokes of all. Right to the end, they were as painful as ever. "There are no strokes left." They untied me, and I stood, bleeding, almost fainting; and they both knelt before me. "No, no, Master, don't kneel!" He stood and held me in his arms and kissed me. "What do you want now, Tol? What do you want from your Master?" I looked into his eyes. "No mercy, Master. No mercy," I whispered. His face hardened. "Then lick my boots, punk! Kneel and lick them!" I tottered to my knees and licked, blood flowing down my thighs. I licked slowly, voluptuously, as I thanked him in my mind for the gift he had given me. And as I licked, he beat me with his strap, and I gloried. I was tied on the cross, and he was whipping me. The whipping went on, and on, mounting up and up, and I slipped into my exalted and rejoicing state. Later they told me I was screaming for more, but at the time I was out of myself, free and in ecstasy; and then I came. And then they were fucking me, tied to the table, fucking me fiercely, relentlessly, taking turns, again and again, and all our bodies were streaked with my blood. And finally I came again, and my consciousness faded. When I awoke, I was between them in bed, and it was morning. "Welcome back," said Derek quietly, his face close to mine. "Thank you, Master," I whispered. "Thank you for everything." He smiled. "Nothing for the next couple of days. A rest. We've all earned it." "Master, I don't need..." "Hush. Things are changing, and so must we. The day after that - will be a hard day." ====================================================================== Continued in Part 6 ======================================================================