Date: Fri, 8 Jul 2016 15:24:18 +0000
From: dexter 67 <dex67@hotmail.com>
Subject: Nordic Twink part 44

Archive; 'Nordic Twink Doing As He's Told #44'{Dex67@hotmail.com}( MM bd humil slow )[44!45]

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


Nordic Twink Doing As He's Told
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Part 44 - Be on the pole


Back at the island the twink was kept in the dog gear, with a collar,
mittens over his hands, pads on his knees, his calves tied to his thighs
and a butt plug with a tail in his ass. He was told to sleep in a dog
house. That same day a guest arrived with several big dogs. They sniffed at
the human dog, but didn't do anything other than lick his ass. The men kept
the twink with the dogs and treated him like one for several days.

It was a tough challenge not to fuck the slave. The game required that they
only pat him on his head and torso as they did with the dogs. They didn't
talk to him or even look him in the eyes. It created a new form of
isolation and distance between the slave and the humans. He had to eat the
same dog food as the animals, indeed, the food the dogs left over. The
twink got dirty, and his body hair began to grow in his crotch and armpits.

As soon as the guest with the dogs had left the island, Mr. Thorson removed
the restraints and threw the slave in the sea. "You filthy little shit," he
said as if it was the slave's fault he was dirty. "Go upstairs and shave
that body and take a long shower."

It was music to the slave's ears. He hated to be treated like a dog and
wanted to present his body as attractively as he could.

When he was clean and presented himself to Mr. Thorson, he was full of
expectation. But the man told him to go to the shed and take the position
on the shelf. "I will be there soon."

But Mr. Thorson didn't turn up. The slave sat on the shelf for hours with
his face to the wall and ass out over the edge. He felt that something had
changed on the island. The men weren't as relaxed and playful in their
contact with him as before. It was as if the more strict and demanding
atmosphere from Mr. Johnson's basement had followed him back here. He
wanted to please but was worried about what was required of him, and it
made him insecure about his role.

At last Mr. Thorson arrived. He didn't say anything as he turned on a
bright light and pointed it toward the exposed pussy so that he could
inspect the abused ass ring. Fingers moved over the raw surface and then
took hold of the now clearly visible ass lips between his thumb and
forefinger. He pulled and pinched.

"Mmm. I see. Not bad. Compress those lips." The twink did as he was told.

"More. Harder." He tried the best he could.

Then the man opened his pants and pushed his cock into the exposed hole. He
started to move his cock with long and slow strokes in and out. He leaned
forward and spoke near the twink's ear.

"I've missed you ... as I miss all my pets ... But you are special ... Your
submission is honest ... Not a game, not anymore ... We both know what's
right and proper for a useless creature like you ... Total submission, all
the time ... Always ... I love that ..."

The slave was pleased to feel the strength behind the man's thrusts and his
cock deep inside. He also surrendered to the demanding message. It was the
truth as he now knew it.

Mr. Thorson sped up as he began to move his hands over the smooth body.

"Pinch your ass muscle together more. I want to feel it. Even if you're
stretched, you should be able to close your pussy around a visiting cock
and give it a warm welcome."

The twink tried hard to close his abused sphincter.

"That's good. Keep it tight. It's the most important muscle in this body."
He fucked the twink with all the strength and assertiveness that identified
an alpha male. No excuses, no restraint, just fucking the bitch as he saw
fit.

Mr. Thorson loved to use a twink like this one without any obligations or
remorse. It was liberating and the truth of nature. It was also delightful
because he knew the hard treatment was solidifying the slave's new image of
himself. Being used this way was like a reset button for a submissive
twink's psyche, especially one tortured by mental isolation. It gave him
purpose and made him whole.

Their relationship had now become exactly as the master wanted it to
be. The tougher the slave was treated the more satisfied and grateful it
became.

He couldn't keep it back anymore. He sped up and emptied his load into the
boy. After a few moments, he withdrew and took a vice grip on the back of
the twink's neck.

"Clean me up." The twink almost fell off the shelf by the hard grip pulling
his head down. He had to put his hands on the man's chest as he leaned his
head down to the cock. It sent electric signals of delight to be able to
hold on to the strong man even if he was dressed. The twink was starved for
human contact. But when he had licked the cock clean the man zipped up and
walked away.

Life on the island had changed. Jesper wasn't allowed to walk around and
take initiative as before. He was pleased to escape most of the dog
restraints, but the collar around his neck wasn't just a sign of his low
status - it was used for its original purpose, to restrict and control the
wearer.

The men used the leash to limit his options. He was led by the leash all
the time, and when he was left alone they always tied the rope to
something, preventing him from moving around.

He was used less as a slave in the household. Instead, the training that
had begun in Mr. Johnson's basement continued on the island. The workouts
and gymnastics were done on the lawn outside the main building.  He started
to receive ballet training to improve the agility in his limbs; the
flexibility of his legs was prioritized.

Everybody could look on as the naked slave was instructed to lift weights,
do sit ups and perform various gymnastics moves until he was completely
exhausted.

Over the course of several weeks different men arrived to teach him. He
recognized them from earlier events but didn't know anything about them,
not even their names. Each day of training ended in the shed with a hard
and demanding fuck. He understood it was the payment they received for
acting as his instructor.

Some instructors just bent him over a chair and fucked his ass, but others
moved him to a bed of hay in a corner. He loved when they caressed his body
while they fucked him. It was heaven for the slave to feel a hard cock in
his pussy and strong arms around his body.

On weekends, Mr. Thorson or Mr. Johnson inspected the progress. The slave
wanted to be recognized as part of the human fellowship, but the men didn't
speak to him during the inspections, only to the instructor who was showing
the slave's new abilities. They treated him like a dog or circus animal,
even if he no longer wore the dog paraphernalia and wasn't always on all
fours.

The rewards were limited to candy he had to take with his mouth from the
owner's palm, and the only words said to him were "Good slave." He was
mentally isolated, starved of human contact. And it had the desired effect:
the slave was more eager than ever to please his masters.

One reason to make the slave's body smooth and supple, besides making it a
better fuck toy, was to display him in a certain way at an important party
Mr. Thorson was planning.

They had built a display case with a wooden frame and narrow glass cage
above, like a showcase in a jewelry store. But instead of diamonds they
would put the twink's beautiful body in it, folded in two with the ass at
one end. To display a young man in this way was a hot and extravagant
fantasy of his owner.

On the day of the party, they removed every device except the black leather
collar. He made the journey to the party venue, a castle in the
countryside, in a dog travel cage. After the crossing to the mainland, the
cage was transported in a delivery van together with equipment and
housewares.

The display case was placed in a hall with antiques and other rarities such
as medieval armor. The slave was told to lie down on his back and raise his
legs. He had some difficulty getting them down beside his torso, but with
some help the men could fasten down the glass cover over his body to close
the cage. There were five small holes in the glass above his head to give
him fresh air.

It was a strange place to be in. The twink could see everyone around him,
but he wasn't a part of them. He was an exhibit, like the other things on
display in the hall. When people passed, they could look down on him, and
he couldn't hide anything. He wished they had blindfolded him, so he didn't
have to see the reactions and hungry eyes of people when they first saw
him. But one purpose of this kind of exposure was to let him see and be a
part of the reactions his naked body created. He had to look at the men
standing around the showcase and talking to each other about him as an
object of art.

The twink couldn't hear what they were saying, but there was no doubt about
what the topic of their conversation was. To his shame, his dick wasn't
flaccid, and when many men gathered around the glass cage his dick got
harder.

"The more attention he gets, the harder his dick becomes," someone
commented.

The guests at the castle were thrilled to be welcomed to a party with a
porn star on display, and congratulated the hosts on the excellent
entertainment as they sipped their pre-dinner drinks.

"Is he for sale?"

"Can I rent the boy for a weekend?"

Mr. Thorson got a lot of suggestions, and they talked about how to educate
and manage a slave boy like this. Men who never had seen a submissive young
man like this before were stunned and couldn't stop talking about what it
meant to control another human being in this way.

But not everybody appreciated the setting. "You shouldn't keep a man in
bondage like this. We do not live in the eighteen hundreds!" one man who
was upset with the scene argued to release the boy from his glass cage.

Another man replied to lighten the mood, "I'm for opening the cage, but
then I insist on inspecting him! Only to make sure he's not injured, of
course." Everybody laughed.

Mr. Thorson took the angry man aside and asked him whether, perhaps, he
wanted to meet the boy in private. The man got nervous and apologized.

"Ah, no problem. And my offer stands. If you want to see him before we
leave tonight, just let me know." Mr. Thorson put a hand on the man's
shoulder, then turned and went back to the other men who were standing with
their champagne glasses in their hands and making small talk.

The men closest to the case put their glasses on it. It made the twink feel
even more like a thing rather than a fellow human being.

A servant had been instructed to let the twink out of the display case when
the guests went up to dinner on the upper floor. The boy's body was stiff
and had difficulty moving out of the excruciating position. The servant was
eager to help. He let his hands move all over the slave as he lifted the
body up and put it on the floor. He then led the naked twink to a checkroom
and locked him up in the dog cage. They didn't talk, and he wasn't even
fucked that night. He had been treated as an object of art, and it was more
humiliating than being a sex toy. It was as if he wasn't good enough for
sex or any other human contact.

The strict regimen continued when he was brought back to the island. He was
only allowed to move when the men pulled him by the leash. He didn't
understand why. It had been ages since he had been disobedient and he
couldn't leave the island anyway. The leash was also getting shorter. His
mobility was gradually being further restrained.

After the workouts on the lawn each afternoon, a second strenuous training
session started after dinner, late in the evening. Because the men present
on the island interacted with him, he eventually began to look forward to
these sessions he had previously dreaded. They usually started with the men
watching him shower, take enemas to clean his boy pussy and shave his
body. Then they inspected his muscles and discussed the boy's body among
themselves.

"Now, let the fun begin! Bend forward and pull your ass cheeks apart."

The twink could recognize whom amongst the bunch of men had instructed him,
but it changed every night, and he stopped even trying to remember the
men. They had become an anonymous group to him. They took turns in fucking
him -- it was very exciting for the men to have a broken and willing young
man to abuse. And the slave could give the men something they wanted: his
body.

Then one night they moved to the next level. When the last man was done
fucking the boy's pussy, all lubed their hands and the first man, with
almost no pressure, moved four fingers into it while the slave was still
standing, bent forward, in the middle of the room. After twisting and
manipulating them for a minute, he pressed on, and the hand disappeared
into the body. The boy moaned and took a step forward, but no one saw it as
anything more than a regular part of the game.

When the first man had fisted the hole a couple of times, a second man took
his place and moved his hand into the body. Then he clenched his fist and
pulled it out. The twink followed the movement and stepped back with his
ass in the air.

"No, no. Stand still."

Then the clenched fist wanted back in. His hand wasn't small, and the
resistance made it too difficult. He opened his hand and pushed his
straightened fingers against the hole. This time the hole swallowed them,
and with the last press the palm entered the body.

He immediately withdrew the hand and quickly pushed it back in. The raw
fist-fucking had begun. He repeated it over and over again, and the
sphincter surrendered. The man continued pushing inside in rapid succession
with little resistance.

"Yeah! That's more like it."

"Let me feel that," said a third man as he pushed his hand into the body.

"He is so soft and warm. I could caress his insides the whole night."

The men sat down and drank beer as they watched each other take part in the
action.

"Spread it more! Show us the hole!"

Once they had opened him up, the man who had tried to push his clenched
fist into the body made a new attempt. This time, he managed to press his
knuckles through the ring muscles, but the twink had to take a step forward
to remain balanced.

"Damn it! Hold him still." Two men stepped up and grabbed the slave's
torso, one on each side.

The big clinched fist made its way forward again. With power behind it and
the body fixed in position, the ass muscle had to capitulate. The boxer's
fist entered the boy's rectum. Without any rest, the man pulled it back
out, only to press it against the battered hole again. The twink lost his
grip on his ass cheeks and groaned as the assault relentlessly
continued. The big hand went in and out with increasing speed.

"Spread those cheeks. I want to punch-fuck the hole."

The man pounded the ass like a punching bag. The slave started to sob and
then bawl. It was the rawest and most painful assault on his ass ever. He
didn't know it yet, but this was now going to be an almost daily routine.

Now that they had opened the boy's body, it was time to continue the
training. The men sat down to take a pause. One man put his elbow on the
bench they used as a table for their beer cans. He raised his forearm up
then told the slave, "Sit down with us. On my arm."

While the men talked to each other, the slave stepped forward, turned
around and moved his ass to the hand. There was not much resistance when he
bent his knees and let his pussy swallow the hand. He stopped.

"Continue. The man said, "Sit down. Do it!"

The twink spread his ass cheeks with his hands and tried to sink his body
down on the arm. After some time, one man told him to stand up. The twink
thought the ordeal was over.

"Now, try me." The man put his elbow on the bench and smiled. The twink
moved to him without any hesitation, put his ass on the new arm, spread his
ass cheeks and moved his body down on it.

"That's right. Start to fuck yourself on it. Move up and down."

It was an extraordinary sight to see a handsome and smooth young man fuck
his ass over a big and hairy arm, surrounded by other big, vigorous men.

Someone put a hand on the twink's shoulder when he was moving and pressed
down to push his body farther onto the arm. The men laughed at the evil
act, then continued to talk about sports as though this scene was something
completely normal.

When the slave had more than half of the forearm up inside him, the man
said, "Okay, stand up."

With some difficulty he did. The arm stayed inside him as the man let his
arm follow the movement. It was a display of power. The man moved the twink
to one side by his arm inside his body.

"Look, I have a doll to play with!" They laughed.

"Is he as soft further inside?"

"Even softer, like silk."

Some weeks later all the men had tried out the twink's body, up to their
elbows. The next step was to move him into a new position on his knees with
his body bent forward on the bench. The task was to get both of a man's
hands inside. The men took turns stretching the young, elastic body.

As someone opened the ass hole by punch-fucking it, another man used his
face. They fucked his mouth and throat, which was now the only tight hole
he had left.

Each night, after they had stretched the body according to plan, the slave
got his biggest reward. The men followed him into the shower, soaped him up
in foam and let their strong hands move all over his hot body. After the
shower, the slave used towels to dry off the men's bodies.

When Mr. Johnson arrived at the island, the twink didn't react with
disappointment or fear as he had earlier times. Not even when Mr. Johnson
roughly pushed three fingers into his mouth and pinched his tongue. In
fact, the slave's dick tried to get hard. It made him blush. He was ashamed
of his response to the rough man's abusive behavior. The man just gave him
an evil smile.

"You are a real pain pig, aren't you?" He removed his hand from the mouth
and slapped him hard with an open hand over his face. When he didn't lose
his balance, the man hit him again harder and from the other side. This
time, the slave stumbled. The third blow with a fist in the stomach finally
sank him to the ground.

"Open your mouth and put your tongue out." When he did, the man took hold
of it and used it as a leash. The twink could have pulled his wet tongue
away, but he knew it would create a motive for severe punishment.

After dinner with the host Mr. Thorson while the slave was sitting on the
floor in the dining room with his short leash bound to a ring in the wall,
a new kind of training began. At the center of another room stood a
vertical pole securely attached to a wooden platform.

Mr. Thorson moved the slave into position with his lower back against the
upright pole. Two men lifted him up and spread his thighs. His vulnerable
and unprotected asshole was put in place. They teased him with the pole,
pushing him around a bit, but then lowered him against the top of the pole
until it just started to push into his outer ring. They all looked forward
to seeing the twink slide down on it.

"I don't think I can imagine anything hotter than a bitch impaled and
completely helpless on a big pole," someone said.

The pole was rounded at the top and only as thick as a large dildo. The
twink wondered how low they would impale him when he could feel the tip of
it at his pussy. The two men slowly loosened their grip, and he started
sliding down on the pole by his body weight.

"Don't fight it! Relax and let it penetrate you. We have control."
Mr. Thorson told him.

The twink felt the top of the pole spear his sphincter. By instinct, he
began to pull his body up by his arms on the men holding him.

"No, no you don't!" Mr. Thorson slapped his ass hard. The men had no
problem controlling the boy using their firm grip on his thighs and upper
arms. It was impossible for the slave to escape the pole. It went inside
his boy cunt without a problem.

The men lowered the slave's legs to the floor alongside the pole. When his
toes were on the ground, the men removed their helping hands. They took
some steps back and watched the naked body fighting not to let more of the
pole penetrate him by balancing on his toes.

"This puts a body in a wonderful position," someone said. "You can see the
young man's muscles stretching." They talked about the twink as if he
wasn't there.

He struggled to prevent the foreign and scary object from spearing him
deeper. When he was beginning to find his balance on his toes, the men
smiled.

"Yes, let him take more of that pole," someone said and put a hand on the
naked twink's shoulder and put some pressure on it. Slowly the body lowered
itself down on the pole. After a few moments the twink stood with his heels
on the floor, now severely impaled on the pole.

"He is completely immobilized, let's have a look at him." The slave had
never seen most of these men before, and they greedily moved their hands
over his body, but he didn't try to defend himself. He let his free arms
passively hang at his sides while the men pinched his tits and pulled his
balls. They also began to kiss him on his mouth. Like the good slave he
was, he opened his lips and let each of them invade his mouth.

All of the men got more and more aroused. They couldn't believe their luck
as they assaulted and shamelessly used the beautiful boy in this way. Hands
were everywhere -- palms caressed his throat and the insides of his thighs,
and fingers pressed on his Adam's apple making him swallow. The same
demanding fingers went to his mouth and forced their way inside.

"Okay! Let him do some work. Fuck yourself on our pole!" Mr. Johnson was
more interested in watching the youthful body working than looking at some
middle-aged men play with it. The men stepped back and watched.

At first, the twink didn't know what to do. This was an entirely new
position to be in. But he wasn't stupid. He began to lift his heels to move
his body and ass up on the pole, then let his body slide down again.

"Yeah! So damn sexy!"

It wasn't hard work for the twink's pussy lips; the rather thin pole slid
up inside him with ease and no effort.

"Let's see if our toy loves this," Mr. Johnson said as he stepped forward
and unlocked the chastity device. Then he quickly stepped back so the men
could see that the little dick slowly but certainly was rising and soon
pointed to the ceiling.

"Fuck! Damn! What a cunt!" The men were impressed. And it made them feel
better to know this twink loved to be abused by them. It made them even
hornier. "He wants this!!" someone concluded with surprise and astonishment
in his voice.

"Okay, let's go have some beer. She won't go anywhere!" The men laughed as
they left the room. The twink tried to lift his body off the pole, but he
couldn't. It was too high to get his ass up and off.

The session ended when they lifted him off the pole and then fucked his
loose pussy, one by one on the floor beside the pole.

The next day the platform with the pole was moved to the lawn outside the
main building. The men followed the slave to it.

"Every day after breakfast and until your afternoon workout begins, you
will train that pussy by fucking yourself on this pole," Mr. Thorson said
as he lifted the twink by gripping him under his arms and moved him on top
of the pole.

"Reach back and guide it to your pussy," he instructed and then lowered the
body. Once again the slave was trapped on the pole. He could feel it was
now thicker than before. It spread his ass to the point of discomfort, but
not pain.

"Relax. This intruder will only have a good effect." As he spoke, he walked
around the slave and squatted down to inspect his ass. He spread the ass
cheeks and let his thumb move over the stretched ass lips. Then he put his
index finger in a groove in the pole that made it possible to move his
finger up inside the hole. It further stretched the sphincter, and the
slave winced.

"No, no. Relax. I want to feel you up. You know who own this pussy, don't
you? Relax."

The twink swallowed and tried to do as he was told. He could feel the
finger move up alongside the pole. Then the man made a hook of his finger
and pushed it away from the pole to stretch the ass muscle wider, then
inserted three more fingers. It created pain, and the slave instinctively
tried to bend forward to escape the fingers. The man slapped his ass hard
with his free hand.

"Relax this muscle. You have nothing to protect. It should be open for
anything."

After a few moments the man pushed his four fingers further up the ass
alongside the pole. With his other hand, he inspected the thin and stressed
surface of the pussy lips.

"Okay. That hole isn't as open as it should be. We have to continue the
training." He tried to sound disappointed but was looking forward to it.

***

Next: part 45 - Part 45 – Is love possible?

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