Date: Thu, 12 May 2016 15:08:19 +0000
From: dexter 67 <dex67@hotmail.com>
Subject: Nordic Twink part 40

Archive; 'Nordic Twink Doing As He's Told #40' {Dex67@hotmail.com} ( MM bd humil slow ) [40!<40]

Caution! Sensitive readers are warned: this text may appear salacious.

Nordic Twink Doing As He's Told
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Part 40: Lend-lease

It was winter when Jesper arrived at the small island again. Instead of
green grass and a warming sun, the setting was white snow and icy
waters. Inside the main building, though, life was as before. The slave was
naked and did his household duties. The black leather collar was always
around his neck, and his crotch was imprisoned in a small chastity device
for weeks at a time.

He was supervised by an elderly caretaker not interested in using him
sexually. Mr. Thorson visited the island once or twice a month but stayed
only for a couple of days. He always had guests with him whom the slave had
to entertain.

The twink got more time to reflect on his life, starting from the time he
was captured by the gang of predators. He didn't regret his choice to yield
to the men's wishes and become a sex toy kept in servitude. Rather than
questioning his destiny, he wondered how he could be more useful to
Mr. Thorson and the alpha men. He loved their attention and raw lust for
his body. He was still living for the moments when he could astound men
with his naked presence and receive their full attention.

To enhance the men's attraction to him, he intensified the physical
training and gymnastics to keep his most valuable asset, his body, in
shape. No one loved to be coveted more than Jesper, to have lust-filled
eyes staring at him and to feel the tension in the room reaching fever
pitch. He was powerless against his idolization of big cocks and muscular
alpha men. He needed to bring them to ecstasy.

One day, during the usual morning routine, Mr. Thorson pulled his slave
close to him on the bed and said, "Look, I have some business with a
prominent politician. I need his help to make a change in government
regulations. The problem is that he doesn't want money."

As Mr. Thorson moved his big hand over the slave's smooth skin he
continued, "He wants you." The man kissed the twink on his neck.

"I've told him you're not for sale." The man moved himself up to Jesper's
back, and his dick soon found the pussy hole. As he penetrated it, he
continued, "This man knows his value to us, and I have to make a
bargain. As a slave, you are after all a commodity, and he can't see why I
deny him access to you as payment for his help."

Mr. Thorson started to fuck the warm and welcoming hole slowly with long
strokes. "I really need his influence with the government, and his demand
is clear. I will receive his help only if I lend or lease you out for a few
weeks at a time on a regular schedule, at his place and without any
restrictions."

He then leaned forward and put his arm around the twink's throat and lifted
the body up to a kneeling position. He continued to penetrate the hole from
behind with short movements in and out. "This powerful man isn't interested
in normal sex. He wants to inflict pain on the boys he uses." Mr. Thorson
tightened his grip and blocked the twink's breathing as he sped up his
fucking.

"Things like breath control," he told his slave. "And I'm afraid that I've
spoiled you, that you will protest and fight, and thereby embarrass me as a
poor master. It would put me in a weak position."

Jesper got scared. His body became tense. The message implied a bigger
sacrifice of himself than at any time before. And he couldn't breathe. But
he didn't fight when he started to suffocate. He heard the man, and he
wanted to please him. He tried to relax even if his body and muscles wanted
to fight for his life.

Mr. Thorson felt the slave's body twitch involuntarily with the loss of air
but remain passive. He stopped fucking and loosened his grip, and Jesper
took several deep breaths.

"Good boy," the man said as he held his hands on the twink's shoulders and
did some short jabs into the pussy hole while he let the twink
recover. Then he once more tightened the grip and denied the slave his
breath as he started to fuck him hard again.

"I need to find out whether I can hand you over. A slave can't start to
fight its masters." Jesper almost passed out before he was allowed to
breathe again.

Mr. Thorson removed his grip from the twink's throat as he sped up. After
some groaning, he was spilling his hot load into the youngster's guts. He
was churning it into the hole even when it leaked out and matted his nuts
and bush. Then he lowered their bodies down on the bed. He lay on the
slave's back and relaxed, his dick still inside. "I don't like it, and I've
told him I don't want him to treat my slave badly. But he demands there
will be no limits or no deal at all."

The man climbed out of the bed and left Jesper to think about what he had
said. It was a way to prepare the twink for what was coming. He had to be
made to understand that he should take the abuse and make his master
proud. He was too deep into his new life to protest, and mentally preparing
him would make it more difficult for him to muster any opposition.

"You were created to serve your superiors," Mr. Thorson said as he put the
dog bowl on the floor in the kitchen. As the slave put his head into it to
lick the milk and cornflakes up, the master went on, "The men you serve may
try to make you ashamed of what you are, but you should always be proud
whatever happens. You know, I will see this agreement as a test. I will
evaluate your maturity, your readiness to accept reality. I want to know if
everything has fallen into place for you regarding your purpose. To see
whether you understand what makes you valuable, attractive and popular."

While the slave got milk all over his face as he licked up the breakfast,
the lecture continued. "After your adventure at my office, I wonder whether
you understand your place. I needed you to get to Markus, but it interfered
with your training. We had to use your first name, even if a slave
shouldn't have one. It is time to get back to the training. From now on you
don't have any name at all."

The twink looked up at the man with surprise. Was he to be deprived of his
name? Mr. Thorson smiled as if he could read his slave's thoughts, and
said, "Yes, that's right. No name, no number, no identification. Your life
isn't about you but about the service and pleasure you can give real
men. You will listen to the thing you're called, the thing you are: bitch,
whore, slave, pussy boy and such."

As the twink slurped up the last drops of breakfast, he couldn't remember
the last time someone had called him Jesper on the island. He was already
on the way to being used to not having a name. He didn't think about the
psychological effect of being nameless, that is being nobody, being nothing
but an object for others' pleasure.

"When I rent my property out it's important that it knows its place. This
body is a nameless sex toy in my eyes, and certainly in the view of the
master who will be in charge of it for weeks at a time."

Mr. Thorson fastened the leash to the collar and pulled the slave with him
out of the house. The naked slave crawled through the snow to the shed
where he had been held on his first day on the island. The man forced him
onto his knees on a shelf with his ass out over the edge, then secured his
collar to the wall in front of him.

The heating in the shed wasn't enough, and it became chilly. The only way
the slave could get warm was by being fucked. His freedom during the office
adventure had to be eradicated. The slave needed to know he owed everything
to his masters, and that he should expect more sexual abuse before he could
get the comfort he needed to live. He wanted closeness, and he really
appreciated every warm body pressing against him, every palm caressing his
body and every cock that penetrated his pussy.

The man told the twink he was sorry he had to deliver his slave on loan to
the politician. But it was a sham. In reality, Mr. Thorson was delighted to
lend his slave out to the sinister official. It was actually Mr. Thorson
who had suggested the trade. One reason was that right now he was occupied
with how to guide Markus to become a new and useful sex toy. It suited
Mr. Thorson well to let someone else take responsibility for the twink's
next step toward ever deeper submission.

Another reason was to create a mental escape for Jesper when he was in
pain. He could always rely on the knowledge that he would be returned to
the island where life was easier. He would know the torment would end, and
he could look forward to the moment when he was transported back to the
island. It gave the slave a reason to persevere and not fight. It would
make him easier to handle.

In reality, Mr. Thorson would participate in the harsh treatment of the
twink but without disclosing his presence. He didn't want to ruin the trust
the slave had in him.

During Jesper's time in the shed, Mr. Thorson phoned the politician. "My
commodity is ready. We can start whenever you want."

"Nice! I can't wait to lay my hands on that high-quality article. If you
were to have it ready for transportation on Wednesday, it would be
perfect. I have a lighter schedule and time for a first session."

"Of course."

"I will inspect your merchandise before I engage in changing the government
regulation you talked about. If it turns out to be as excellent as you say,
we have a deal."

On Wednesday, two men arrived at the island with a big cardboard box. The
naked slave was told to climb inside. It was too small for comfort. He had
to bend his head forward to his knees. As they closed the top of the box,
the twink heard Mr. Thorson saying, "Take good care of it. I want it back
in one piece. And give my compliments to Mr. Johnson. "

He wasn't tied up. They trusted the slave. After the boat trip, Jesper
could sense that the box was carried from the boat, and the journey
continued with a truck. Soon enough it stopped, and the box was taken a
short distance before it was put down on the floor. Then nothing happened.

After a long time, the box was opened. When Jesper looked up, a man
delivered a hard blow across his face with the back of his hand. "Slaves
always look down, if they aren't told to do otherwise."

He complied, but he managed to see the man before he lowered his gaze. The
man wasn't as old he thought he would be. He was actually a robust and sexy
man. Perhaps politics wasn't always a show business for ugly people.

A hard pull by the leash told Jesper to climb out of the box. The man
pulled the leash and walked through a door. The twink had no idea where he
was, except in a basement without windows. He crawled after the man on all
fours.

He took stock of his surroundings: a brightly lit, almost empty room with
only a bench in the middle of it. On the walls, a lot of equipment was
hanging from hooks. It scared him out of his wits. The man grabbed handfuls
of the muscle tissue on the twink's back, neck and upper arms, wringing and
squeezing it with such force that the twink yelped out in pain and wriggled
to escape the fingers. The more the twink fought back the harder the man
grabbed and mauled the young body.

"My little girl isn't used to massage?" laughed the man. "I need this body
relaxed. We have to increase the flexibility of the joints." It was also a
good way to closely inspect the twink's smooth young body.

After wringing out all of the slave's stiff muscles, the man focused on its
joints. Mr. Johnson put a boot on the twink's shoulder and pressed his
chest to the concrete floor. Then the twink got his legs pulled back, and
he landed flat on his belly. He then felt the big boot once again planted
on his back, this time right at the base of his spine. The man then leaned
forward and grabbed one of the twink's wrists, pulling it up and straight
backward. The boy's entire upper body was raised and bent back as his lower
body remained firmly planted on the concrete floor by the man's boot.

The strain on the slave's shoulders and spine were increased, and he began
to gasp in pain from the experience. A wide grin began to spread across the
man's face. The slave was held in this painful position for some time
before the man repeated it with the other arm. Then he unceremoniously let
go of the wrist, and the body fell forward and down onto the floor like a
dead fish.

Next, the man turned while putting his foot on the upper back and grabbed
one of the slave's ankles. The leg was then yanked up and back behind him
once again eliciting a cry of agony. This process was repeated for the
opposite leg before the man flipped the naked body over like a side of meat
onto his back.

The sadistic masseur sat beside his victim and placed one of his feet in
the right armpit, the other against the right side of the neck. Grabbing
hold of the slave's right wrist the man leaned back and pulled on his arm
to the point that the slave was confident his shoulder would be torn from
its socket. He cried out, but the man just laughed and gave an extra
tug. The procedure was repeated on the slave's left arm.

The final part of the rough massage involved bringing the slave's knees in
toward his chest, then leaning onto the slave forcing him even further into
the balled-up position. The man lunged forward onto the compressed body
with all of his weight behind him. As the man stood up beside the
tenderized slave, it lay before the cruel man's feet, limp and exhausted.

"Now, at last, this beautiful body is beginning to be flexible and relaxed
as it always should be. It is ready to be used." The man spoke as if there
was somebody else there, but the twink hadn't seen anybody. He couldn't
manage to lift his head.

The man flipped the twink over onto his stomach, then went to fetch some
equipment. On the floor behind the slave he placed a thick iron bar with
four rings. Then he yanked the slave's hands down between his knees and
proceeded to lock each ankle and each wrist into the fetters. With this
done, the twink was face down on the floor with his ass stuck up
invitingly.

With the body in position, the man started to grease the asshole. "Now,"
the man said, "we will loosen up this cunt." Mr. Johnson loved to break
young men's asses to be open and accessible. He had a big dick, and he
hated tight holes. He wanted no resistance for his cock -- it should be
able to sink quickly into a warm and wet cavity.

With that, he gripped a dildo in the shape and size of a big but natural
cock and placed the head of it at the winking sphincter of the twink's
exposed anus. He pressed the dildo in rather fast as if it was something
this pussy should swallow easily. The slave grunted but the dildo sank in
with a little pressure.

After moving it in and out a short while it was removed. Jesper felt
empty. In this position the twink knew more than ever that he was only a
pussy, and wanted the man to fill him up.

Soon enough the twink felt something cold and blunt on his ass. It was much
bigger than the last dildo. Taking his time, the man slowly increased the
pressure until the slave's ass lips began to surrender their resistance to
the rubber invader.

The man then eased off, allowing the pussy to close up again. This was not
done to be kind but rather because he wanted to see the lips stretch and
relax. He had a passion for turning male assholes into gaping slut
pussies. Gradually he worked the wide head of the dildo into the ass. He
wasn't surprised that it went in with just a bit of force. This wasn't a
virgin hole after all. But it could be much looser. It would be fun to
break it wide open.

"This dildo is as long as a forearm. All of it will be parked inside this
hole today", the man said. Slowly, inch by inch, he fed the length of the
dildo into the exposed ass. The twink grunted as the thick rubber shaft was
pushed deep inside his guts. The man had no plan to use a gag as he liked
to hear his playthings squeal, moan, and scream in agony. He would not pay
any more attention to this slave's cry of pain than he had any of the
previous ones. The sounds from a trapped twink aroused him to do more.

The twink was now grunting continuously as the penetration advanced about
an inch at a time and then backed off a bit, sometimes all the way
out. Jesper felt helpless and more like an object than ever before. He had
no part in what was happening. He only provided the body to be played with
by an unknown man.

Once the dildo was as deep in his guts as anything had ever been, it was
slowly withdrawn. The slave was relieved. But it wasn't removed
completely. The head remained buried. After a moment of stillness, the man
began to give the twink a good old-fashioned dildo fucking with long
strokes into his belly and out. The long dicking was a slow but relentless
movement.

Even when the slave had experienced harsh treatment before, he never had
been this full. It felt as if the rubber phallus was pushing his organs
aside as he was packed full of it. But the slave eventually began to feel
comfortable with the big thing inside.

Mr. Johnson noticed it and withdrew the dildo completely. He put his
fingers to the hole and pinched the ring muscle, feeling its worn out
texture.

Mr. Johnson was pleased with his work. He undressed, put some cushions on
the concrete floor behind the bound twink, knelt down, grabbed the upturned
boy ass and penetrated it. It was a wonderful feeling to jam his hard cock
into a soft and warm hole.

The twink wanted to see the naked man now fucking him, but he didn't dare
to move his head and look back. The only thing he could do was to be still
and take it. His body was a vessel for alpha men's pleasure. On
Mr. Thorson's island he had exactly the same purpose, to please, but there
he could participate, be one of the acting members, react to men's desire
and receive attention in response to his willingness to offer his body.

In this basement he was only a piece of meat, arranged as the master wanted
it. He could feel he was being fucked but he was only the soft hole where
the master put his hard cock.

"Yeah. This is what you are," said Mr. Johnson as if he could read the
slave's thoughts. "You are nothing but a hole." He drilled his dick in and
out of it, and it was precisely as inviting as he wanted. After a short
time he withdrew and stood up.

The slave was surprised. Was he already finished? Now, when at last it felt
good? To have a real cock inside had been the best moment of this day. He
dared to look back and up. The man was tall and blond with big muscles. It
was obvious this man in younger days had been active in some sport. He was
past his best days as an athlete but still powerful. The twink
instinctively forgave him for everything he had done and would do. Jesper
wanted to please this alpha man.

With a slap on one of the upturned cheeks, the naked man walked away, well
aware that the slave's big eyes were on him. He grabbed a black riding
crop. Jesper instantly regretted his forgiveness. With a big smile on his
face, the man walked back while his half-hard cock moved from side to side.

"I knew you would look at me even if I told you a slave should always look
down. You will be punished for it with this." The man slapped the crop in
his free palm. It wasn't true -- he would have whipped the slave anyway,
but you should always blame the slave for its punishment.

The man sat down beside the slave's head. In shame Jesper had lowered it
down to the concrete floor after his curiosity-driven gaze at the man, when
he had lifted his head up.

"You want to know me? Hmm. Okay. Lift your head and lick my cock."

The slave looked up to the man's face, then did as he was told. He had to
stretch his neck to reach the half-hard dick. He put his tongue out and it
was wonderful to feel the soft dick head. The man rewarded the slave by
pushing his hips forward, making it possible to take the cock in his
mouth. But just barely. He had to put in all his effort to reach it.

"What a slut!" The man laughed at the great effort the twink made to get to
his dick. He moved his crotch a bit back and out of reach for the slave.

"I am going to whip you harder than you have ever experienced before. You
can sob and cry, but don't make a word of pleading. When I take a break I
want you to lick my cock again, without any hesitation."

With a hard cock the man stood up and walked out of the slave's
view. Suddenly the riding crop came down on his ass without mercy. The man
hit it hard, four or five times in quick succession.

Jesper yelled out his agony and surprise. When he quieted down, he was hit
again. Not as hard, but with repeated blows. The pain was excruciating. He
tried to move his legs and arms, but he was immobilized and at the wicked
man's mercy. He began to cry. When the blows were lighter he sobbed, when
they were harder he yelled.

"Yes, you boys are all the same. You become an instrument under the whip,
don't you? The sound coming out of you is music to my ears."

The man then sat down close to the slave's head. Jesper knew he had to
serve the man who had just given him hell. He moved his tear-filled face
toward the hard cock. With some difficulty he could reach it by putting his
tongue out to lick it.

"Good dog. Lick the pre-cum up. It's created by the whipping, you know? To
make your ass red and hear you scream in agony is so damn sexy. Do you want
me to stop?"

By reflex Jesper nodded "yes", but he immediately regretted it. He knew it
was a trap.

"I said no pleading, and yet you do it. It will cost you another session."
The man stood up and the blows soon resumed hitting the sore ass. Jesper
cried. His ass was on fire. The pain deepened and every new hit was
torture.

As the twink felt his bound body being beaten he tried to think of
something different. His mind went to Mr. Thorson, and he longed for his
more humane regimen.

***

Next: part 41 - Suffer agonies but no doubt

Some readers have congratulated me for better English, so it's only right
to tell you: I have a little help from new friends and during the last
bunch of chapters from Steve. I think you readers are as grateful as I am
for that.

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