Date: Fri, 16 Jun 2006 22:15:08 -0700 (PDT) From: Hank M Subject: The Fate of a Poor Man's Son, part 9 I was turned on to this universe by the writing of Pete Brown UK. Heated up by some stories from Steam Train. These two authors directed me to the works of Richard Davies, One Ring, Randall Austin and others. This story is set in a near-future world in which enslavement is the norm. This story involves erotic situations and actual sexual contact between males - as well as humiliation, exhibition, and much of the usual stuff for this genre. If you are not at least 18 years of age (or whatever legal age is where you are) go away now! If you are offended by the content of this story go away now! If you are in a jurisdiction in which it is illegal to read or possess such fiction stories go away now (well, it would be better if you could get the hell away from that jurisdiction). And if you are someone who cannot distinguish fantasy from reality, please go away and get some help. _____________________________________________________________ By Master Redbeard (redbeardedsf at yahoo dot com) Should I be proud that I adapted so quickly to my new role in life? Or should I be ashamed because my masters had such an easy job in breaking me and turning me into a slave? After my first experience with Captain Winston, there were some moments late at night where I found myself thinking wistfully of my classmates who were finishing up high school and preparing for graduation. But no such thought intruded in my days. At one point I considered that they might as well have removed my vocal chords and replaced them with a voicebox that only said, "Yes, Master." Suck cock? Yes, Master! Take it up my ass? Yes, Master! Anything at all to humiliate me and make me feel like less of a man? Yes, Master! The captain taught me how to serve him in the shower. He would just stand there while I washed his body with my soapy hands. To make sure I had done a thorough job cleaning his butt, I would have to follow up with my tongue. I gagged the first time I did that and the captain smacked me across the head snarling, "I have one friend who doesn't keep any toilet paper at all. He prefers slave boy tongues." I actually found myself grateful that I had a master who only made me lick out his ass when it was clean. Most of Captain Winston's showers ended with his fat cock down my throat. Since Brad slept later than his father, I would help clean the house until I was summoned to serve as Brad's body slave. I washed and licked Brad's muscular physique. Although his body was firmer and nicer to touch and his skin tasted less bitter than his father's there was something so arrogant and obnoxious about Brad that his shower seemed the more unpleasant ordeal. Most afternoons I was assigned to work around the grounds - weeding, mowing, digging, planting, moving rocks, whatever was needed. Each slave was required to do two hours of exercise per day. Rye explained that this was to keep our bodies fit and looking good. At first I thought the exercise time would be a treat. But the workouts were grueling and if I stopped for a breath I would feel the lash cutting into my skin. Later in the day I became Rye's assistant in bathing and shaving the other slaves. I learned that the captain enjoyed keeping a newly enslaved boy as pristine as possible for a break-in period. That was the reason I was still sleeping alone in my cage away from any other slaves. My master didn't want to give any of the slaves a chance to use my ass or my mouth while I was still "fresh meat." This was also the reason why I had felt the slave prod and the paddle, but the cane was used sparingly and I had not yet experienced the whip. The captain wanted to keep my ass cheeks smooth for a while. Working with Rye was a chance for me to meet some of the other slaves - but only the young and firm-bodied ones, as those were the only ones whose grooming was of concern to the free men in the house. One day I was ordered from my work digging in the garden to take a shower quickly, put on a clean pair of briefs, and report to Captain Winston. I entered his sitting room facing my master in slave rest position, my hands behind my back and my eyes on the floor. The big man was stretched out in his magnificent chair. He snapped his fingers and pointed to a spot beside his legs. I fell to the floor and immediately started opening his pants and then pulling down the front of his boxer shorts. Less than a minute after I entered the room I had sucked his cock into my mouth all the way down to the root. My nose was grinding into his hairy bush. Knowing how my master liked to be serviced, I was immediately slurping up and down the length of his fat erection. He pulled his cock out of my mouth, glistening with my saliva and started slapping my face with his fleshy tool. "What do you say to your master, boy?" "Please, Master, let me have your cock!" I had already learned what he wanted me to say and how he wanted me to say it in order to avoid a paddling. When the captain protested that he didn't believe I really wanted his cock, I was more intense in pleading for it. He pushed his boxers lower so his balls were at my lips and then told me that if I did a really good job licking his balls clean then he would let me have his cock down my throat again. I licked and slurped enthusiastically as Captain Winston said, "You see, I knew from the start this boy was hungry for cock. I've been dealing with slaves for so long I can sense these things. Even with a free boy who's never done any gay sex before, I can tell when he truly craves a fat hairy hard penis." He caressed my face and chuckled, "You crave your master's fat hairy hard penis, don't you, boy?" I was stunned by his words. Since I had immediately faced the captain when I entered the room I had no idea there was someone else present. What kind of twisted pervert was here observing so silently? I tried to forget about the fact I was now putting on a sex show for some strange man and concentrate on sucking cock to the best of my ability. The captain dug his fingers into my collar and repeated his question. I gathered my thoughts as best I could and began proclaiming, "Oh yes, Master. I need your cock down my throat. I'm hungry for my master's hot sperm. Please, Master, I also need it up my bottom. I need to be fucked by you, Master. Ple-e-e-ease!" "You see," Captain Winston explained to his guest. "The boy hasn't even been enslaved for two weeks and already he's cock crazy. I told you this young fellow is where he belongs and there's nothing at all to worry about." I didn't understand what he was talking about so I just kept slurping up and down on his erect penis as he caressed my face and continued speaking, encouraging his guest to sample my mouth. I could only hear mumbled replies from the other man in the room. The captain was unrelenting, telling the man how obvious his erection was and not to try to hide it. I heard the man stand and come across the room. Then I was aware of the man standing beside the captain. Even as I continued to suck the captain's cock, my master took my hand and put it on the front of the other man's pants. I did my best to concentrate on the meat in mouth and still to unzip this new pair of pants. The man kept pulling away and mumbling, "I shouldn't." But the captain kept cajoling him back into position. When I finally freed this unfamiliar erection the captain pulled my face from his penis and I slid this new man's cock all the way down my throat. Somehow I could tell this man was nearer to the captain's age than to mine, but his dark blond pubes weren't very thick and his body didn't seem hairy at all. His body was much trimmer than the captain's, with a bit of a gut but still in relatively good shape. His cock was not as long or as thick as the captain's but had a thick foreskin that pulled back behind the flared head and looked somehow strangely familiar. How odd. I'd never had sex with any male before being enslaved. How could this cock seem familiar to me? Then the man's fingers were on my ears as he moaned, "Oh, Wally, forgive me but it's been such a long time since I felt anything this wonderful. Forgive me, son." Even as I continued sucking I looked up into my father's face. I realized then that this erection seemed familiar because it looked so much like mine. Before I had time to consider that my own father's penis was down my throat, I felt the captain's thick boner pressing into my sphincter. I was used to being fucked by the captain by this time but unprepared to be entered without any warning or lubrication. The whole length went all the way into me and I howled. I heard my father moan. The vibration of my throat must have massaged his stiff dick. "This is not your son," the captain intoned as he began to slide his cock in and out of my ass. "Your son ceased to exist upon enslavement. This is a slave boy. It would have been wrong for you to put your erection into your own son's mouth. But now you have this very pretty, cock-hungry slave boy to service you." "I g-g-guess if he likes doing it..." my father began. "Look how he's going at it, man. He likes it harder. C'mon, you better get used to fucking slave boy mouths for your new post in South America." Up till then my father had simply left his cock buried deep in my mouth. But after the captain spoke he started to ride his cock in and out between my lips. My own father was fucking my face and breathing hard. "I generally only fuck new slaves on the first day," the captain lied, never missing a beat of his ride in and out of my asshole. "But sometimes there's one so pretty, a boy who is so hot for cock - well, even a man as hetero and macho as I am can be tempted, heheheheh." There was that skin-crawling laugh again. I tried to concentrate on the sound of the captain's hairy balls slapping the backs of my thighs and the sound of my lips slurping on my father's boner. I tried to shut out the captain's ranting, but he went on, "Imagine having something as pretty as this at home - so pretty and so eager for cock! If only you realized what you had you could've enslaved the boy years ago. Think of the years of pleasure and years of relief you could have had with him as your slave boy?" My father made a noise as if to protest, but the captain laughed and continued, "I know, I know. The boy wasn't legal until a matter of days ago. But believe me when I say there are plenty of fathers who turn their sons into slaves just for the use of soft lips or a tender round butt. And since everything takes place behind the closed shutters of the home and since a slave isn't allowed to speak freely - well, you never hear much about these things and neither do the slave police." I thought it was a shout of protest from my father. I wanted it to be a shout of revulsion at the nasty things the captain was saying. But instead it was an uncontrollable shout as my father began spewing hot loads of sperm down my throat. I swallowed as fast as I could. His hands gripped my head hard against his torso. His shout turned into a groan and his body seemed to collapse against my kneeling form. No, this wasn't possible. Had my father really been brought to a wild orgasm in my mouth by the captain's filthy talk? Captain Winston had been spinning a scenario about enslaving and using me at a younger age. Was that what got my father to shoot off? Fuck! My own father was as big a pervert as my master. Just as my father's ejaculation was winding down, I felt the captain jab hard into my rump and then his cock was shooting hot cream deep inside me. A minute later and I was on my knees licking spunk and ass juice from the captain's deflating cock. I didn't dare look in the direction of my father, but from the sounds I could tell he was putting his clothes back in place. "Take a good look at those lovely round cheeks!" the captain exclaimed. I could feel my ass going red with embarrassment. Was my father looking at my bottom? Was he getting another erection? The captain tried to convince my dad to fuck my butt, "Sweeter than any pussy." But my father now sounded regretful and ashamed of what he'd done. Good! Rye entered to take me out of the room. I didn't look back at my father. Slaves only look down at the floor ahead of them. I heard the captain's voice say, "Now that you know he's where he belongs you can leave for South America with a clear conscience. I'm just sorry you'll have to miss the party. But I'll make sure my new slave boy has an extra special time." The large doors were closing behind me as I heard my father's voice, "And my younger son will be enrolled at that private school?" "Where he'll be well looked after," the captain said brightly. "The headmaster is a close personal friend of mine." The doors closed and I froze on the spot. It was as if an icy hand had gripped my heart. Why hadn't I shouted to my father that it was all a lie? Why hadn't I refused to take his cock into my mouth? Why hadn't I used that moment to tell him that I wasn't a cocksucker and that I'd only been brought to this with punishments and threats? Then at the next moment my father would have seen the captain swat me with a paddle, or maybe even use the slave prod to leave me writhing on the floor - that would be the proof right in front of my father's eyes! But I hadn't done any of that. Just two weeks earlier I had lived the life of a free boy and never dreamed I would even touch a hard dick. But now I had been broken. Now I acted like a slave. I obeyed like a slave. I performed sexual service on free men like a slave. But the icy hand on my heart wasn't because of my own slave status. The overwhelming sense of dread was because I knew I would never see my father again. I also knew with certainty - it was too awful to imagine, but I could see it etched in the future - that there would come a time when my younger brother would be turned into a naked sex slave in the Winston household.