Date: Sat, 17 Feb 2007 04:26:31 +0000 From: Drin Whethers Subject: Royal Nightmare - 4 ROYAL NIGHTMARE -- 4 By Cobradelight M/M, B&Dm etc Previously....I'd been sent to the island near Georgia and suffered with the rest of the royals and my time had even been extended an extra month. Who devised this hell with nakedness, rampant erections and constant punishments? When my cousin Benito and I were released I also took my former guard and tormentor, Marcus, who suffered our fate. He was a cocky orphan who survived throu sheer will and I needed someone like that for an aide. The expression of the men as we walked on the ship was something I will never forget. We were filthy, naked with red backsides and our cocks were swollen as were almost all the sex-neglected royals. The crew was quiet and respectful but I caught their glances at each other and the quick grins. I tried to ignore the stares and the captain wisely made no remarks but led me to my cabin. I locked the door and studied myself in the mirror, my wide chest, taut nipples and hard, narrow waist. My cock throbbed, a rigid organ rising from the thick blond bush. I saw my jutting square jaw and light blue eyes. Grabbing my nuts tightly, I fell back on the bed, beating my meat like a mad man, coming over and over. I rubbed some lotion on my red bottom and slept on my stomach. I stayed in my room mostly, recovering from my ordeal although I had to confess I was in better shape than at any time in my 21 years. Now - We arrived and my father greeted me like the Prodigal Son I took an active part in governing, attending meetings, speaking at civic functions while having a steady stream of available women always ending in the same question from my father, "Is she the one?" Four years later he suffered a massive heart attack and lived only a few hours. He spoke from the bed, apologizing for sending me to that island -- he knew warehouse work was hard. I didn't speak. "Jere told me you were bored with the daily toil but felt it was good for you." He had no idea what I had endured, what we all endured, and why Jere, his roguishly handsome playboy aide? When I looked back he was gone and I ascended to the throne. Yet it nagged and I asked Marcus to investigate. The truth was unbelievable -- Jere had made contact with the island group and turned the traditional way of training into a profitable enterprise. Not only were we enslaved but it was all recorded by small cameras and the movies sold underground for big bucks. Jere's new home was magnificent and he was just 29 -- where did an economics aide get that kind of money? Marcus managed to place some spy cams in his apartment and I watched. The arrogant, handsome aide walked in, stripped and immediately spoke into his cell, stroking his huge, thick cock. He seemed to growl, one of those hyper macho guys that were all the time saying "Yeah", "You know it" "Uh huh" or "Fucking right!" He diddled one gal after another, boozing and fucking on the couch in front of a huge plasma TV. He'd lie behind them, his cock sliding in and out as they gasped, watching my tears and thrashings and ungodly erections. He would pinch their nipples and say, "Look here -- see him all fixed up like a dog?" It was bold and daring -- porn movies of his ruler and boss. I had a plan in mind. "Marcus, tell Jere we are leaving on a little journey and he is to come along." I had an idea that would teach this renegade a thing or two. If he wanted to laugh about being a slave I'd let his do so in captivity. Besides, a little first-hand knowledge is a good thing. Two months later, Marcus and I entered the palace of the Sultan of Yemen and were taken to his private chambers. Jere met the oil minister for a working lunch. The Sultan was delighted to help an old friend with a private vengeance. He showed us around the place and asked if we wanted to see the slave processing center. Slavery still existed in many Muslim lands just as it always had. I watched the action unfold on a series of monitors as Jere asked for the john and was directed down a long hall. A few minutes later he emerged, looking around, called for the Minister. He started walking and "accidentally" ran into a palace worker who had been on the outlook for a slave in a suit. He directed him down a hallway and from behind, two guards grabbed him and told him to kept marching. He was indignant but they ignored his outrage, dragging him along. The Sultan used former American Marines as guards. They were eager for the money and were loyal. Most in Yemen spoke Arabic but all Western slaves spoke English so the guards were helpful. Protesting and yelling, he was dragged to a room and froze, mouth open. White, brown and black men stood naked, each with a thick leather collar. This was not a joke but the real thing. The American soldiers hooted at his designer suit. "Fucking sharp threads, man. Too bad you gotta lose em so quick." Others called him a movie star and made him put on his ever-present sunglasses. "Sharp, you should've been one of those male escorts for one of these fag princes." He kept screaming he was important, someone with power who would make their life hell when he got the chance. "Sure, fellow, we're quaking in our boots. Now let's get you out of these nice duds and into slave garb." He protested vigorously, still screaming. "Just ask him, the Sultan, I'm King Nikos's economics aide for Christ sake!" The blond pondered then spoke into a phone. I walked in with the Sultan and the look of relief on his face was priceless. The guard was hesitant. "Sorry, your majesty, but he claims he is an aide to the King." I walked over and looked him up and down, shook my head. I walked behind him and touched his shoulder. He jerked away as the guards held his arm and I circled back to stand in front of him. I raised his chin, our faces close. I felt his hot, shallow breaths. "I don't know who you are but it's a good try. Maybe when you get out...how long are you in for?" He was totally perplexed, muttering "What?" A guard said, "One year." He shook his head slowly. "Nikos, why are you doing this? He began pleading, asking if this was a joke until I interrupted him and turned to the Sultan. "Never seen the fellow before in my life." I almost burst out laughing at his expression. "I had an aide who returned earlier when he got sick." Jere began screaming and fighting until a ball gag was bound in place. Mouth wide, sweaty and eyes bulging I watched calmly, smiling. He was still making efforts to explain, becoming more frantic now that it was becoming clear what was in store for him. I spoke calmly and downright perky! "Is this one ready for processing?" The Sultan winked and said he was. He then invited us to stick around and watch the entire procedure. Jere's eyes bulged almost hilariously. Two guards took hold of his arms and the husky blond stepped up with a big smile. He held Jere's face up, gave his cheek a few light taps then unknotted the tie slowly as Jere looked at me imploringly. The guard held the tie in the air. "What in the fuck did you think, showing up like this? This is no modeling agency, bud." They unbuttoned his shirt and he kept switching his focus from their hands to my face, making noisy garbled protests even as he was being disrobed. They let go of his arms. "Come on, give me that nice silk shirt." He blushed and held it out for the guard. They stepped back as he revealed the large, shoulders and strong arms. Short black hairs across the wide, powerful chest grew dense toward the middle and proceeded downward to form a thick trail over his rock-hard abs. His body tapered to a thin waist -- a physique any man would want. "Whoa, I bet this one lives in Pussyville, right stud?" Jere's eyes opened wide and he looked around. "Well shuck those pants, let's see what the gals get." He looked around and realized he was surrounded by fully-dressed soldiers smirking at his plight. His face was bright red and his eyes pleading but I simply shrugged and watched the unfolding scene with satisfaction. Trembling he unbuckled his trousers but a guard stopped him. "Shoes first, dumbass." He swallowed and bent over, awkwardly hopping on one foot as he pulled off his $400 shoes. When his pants were off he stood in silk white boxers, so embarrassed. As he whimpered low mournful sounds behind the ball gag the guards pulled his hands up and secured his wrists to his neck. The blond guard felt the expensive material with his finger then grinned at his buddy and slowly pulled them down to his ankles revealing a thick, black bush with an oversized cut cock. "Step out, bud." Another guard grabbed his arm and stuck a hypodermic in his arm. He looked up at us with a leer and wrapped a thick arm around his shoulders, squeezing him close like they were big buddies. He spoke into a head set that we heard clearly. "Keep an eye on that donkey dick." Jere looked down at his prick, biting his lip and reddening as right before us his prick began swelling and rising. The guard gave it a few strokes and it immediately stood fully erect. I walked into the room and shook my head slowly, hands on hips. He was every woman's dream and had never missed a chance to show off his body. Well this is your chance, bud. He was tall and muscular, extremely masculine and still maintained a rigid workout schedule. His hair was wavy and black and he sported a 5 o'clock shadow. The thick furry trail traveled lower and spread in every direction -- a bush with as much hair as most people's head. The curls extended down his strapping legs to his big toes. In the cool room his nipples were hard although he was sweating profusely. I reached out and rubbed his navel. "An innie." The guards thought that funny and began comparing their own, lifting their shirts to reveal rock-hard bellies, poking each other's bully button in jest. More than his appearance was his attitude -- a cocky, wolfish guy who knew women adored him and men feared him. He oozed testosterone and was raunchy but could fake with the best, turning on his charm at will. "Too bad he won't get a chance to use that thing." We all gave a chuckle and the guard whistled when he grabbed the upright cock in his large fist and peered closer. "Look at this bat, leaking already!" Jere tried to turn, to hide his swollen organs but the guard held tightly to his prick. We heard whimpering and the guards laughed easily as they pushed him to the scale. When he refused to comply, one of the tough Marines behind him picked up what looked like a heavy ping pong paddle and smacked his rump with a resounding crack. The startled guy jumped and screeched behind the gag and his eyes locked with mine for a split second. "Now hop up on those scales, pretty boy, unless you want a thrashing right here." He jumped up quickly and cringed at our chuckles. He was very tense and looked around wildly for any sign of relief. They measured (6'1) and weighed (195) then measured his hardon. He twisted when his prick was touched. "No, no, slave, time you started learning. A stiff pecker is no reason to get all privy now. Let's see...over 9 fucking inches. We got a winner, Smithson!" He smacked his buddy's hand and pulled Jere's elbows back, commenting that his hands were out of the way. The guard rubbed the red splotch on his bottom and Jere blinked in shock and a rising sense of desperation. He stared down helplessly, unable to do a thing except watch his cock throb. He saw Marcus though the thick glass, made a wild, garbled scream and tried to run over. They caught his arm and he got another fierce whack. He was frantic but and followed Marcus as he stepped into the room and walked over. "You know, they ought to film these slaves in movies. I bet they'd bring a fortune." Jere suddenly understood. He looked at me then shook his head wildly from side to side, screaming incoherently, the words unable to form behind the gag. A big guard grabbed his arm. "Time to get started, Speedo." His light blue eyes glistened from his rugged, tanned face. The thin white stripe from his tiny bathing suit accentuated his deep tan. They shoved him in line and he shuddered. He was 29, physically at his prime, rippled legs slightly apart as he stared ahead, trying to retain his composure. He kept turning back as if a last minute reprieve were on its way. When we talked about his erection he looked absolutely mortified. A new guard stroked his thigh and gave him a small pinch. "Boy, you better look straight ahead if you know what's good for you." He stroked the red stripes from his licks and we laughed at Jere's reaction form the unfamiliar touch of a man. He looked ahead, eyes wide, not really seeing the back in front of him. The line moved slowly and in a few minutes we heard a loud mechanical sound in another room. The sight was almost mesmerizing - an overhead S-shaped track with dangling sets of cuffs. Their wrists were buckled into one pair so that their toes barely touched the floor. When Jere saw it, he tried to back up but in seconds his hands were attached to a set of leather cuffs and he was on his way, thick manly armpits exposed. He looked almost regal, incredibly virile as he hung silently, tears streaming, absolutely helpless and hard as a rock. His wide shoulders suggested power, a V-shaped body that would now be on permanent display. He could have been an ancient Roman with his chiseled chin and black curls. The thick hair in his armpits dripped sweat and it was only starting. We followed his progress from behind a large glass wall. They passed thru a series of sprays, soap, rinse, soap, rinse. Then an Arabic tattoo was shot into their right shoulder. You could hear the deep-voiced muffled cries behind gags but no words could be made out. It was almost grand in scope, the men prepared for service like a chicken at the slaughterhouse. He twisted and turned and his expensive haircut was now messed. They passed a series of blowers and more injections were given for disease control. In the next room it was much more intimate. As each slave entered, two guards lifted his feet and locked them into a second pair of cuffs, bending him double, his rear end wide open. His hard cock was tied upwards between his legs with a stretchy cord. Jere's butt was round, tight and athletic, bisected with a crevice of dark curls as thick as his armpits. He swung slowly, staring from side to side, eyes open very wide. He realized how utterly exposed he was. A thin thermometer was inserted into each upright cock and despite the expected reaction things carried on as normal. The little red bulbs waved in the air, jutting from the upright pricks. A blindfold now descended causing him to jerk at the bonds wildly, suddenly terrified of the dark. As he tugged a bag sloshing with warm soapy water was hung over him and a tube inserted into his rectum. He bucked his rump like he was riding a bull at a rodeo. When he turned a corner I walked over to him, rubbed the back of his furry thighs. "How's things going, pal?" He stared right at me though he could not see a thing. His movements grew more vigorous as the tube pierced deeper and the guard pointed out the thick halo of black curls around his tiny virginal hole. Sweat poured over his bright red body and he pulled at the constraints, groaning loudly and tightening his muscles. When the water began flowing into him the bouncing of his rump grew more vigorous. I remembered it done to me and the utter feeling of violation. I leaned close to him. "You should see your toes curling. Great feeling, huh? Don't worry, you never get used to it." I lifted his blindfold? "Hey. There's no need to cry...just because your hairy crack is wide open." I tugged on a few curls and and he made incoherent, wild sounds behind the gag. "You're a star, Jere. Everyone's looking at that tube delivering nice warm soapy water. Maybe you'll only get two rinses instead of the usual three." I winked and gave him a cheery smile before pulling the blindfold back on tight. When the track moved he swung back and forth, twisting like a madman, helplessly exposed and being filled with the cleansing liquid up his rectum. At last the thermometer was removed and each man set on an open barrel. The tube was jerked out and they exploded loudly, shaking with relief and shame, only to be swung off and have their upright rumps plugged again for a rinse. The line of men swung upside down, sweaty, hogtied, wiggling their rumps in helpless tears. The smell inside the room was worse than a locker room after a football game in the heat. The odor of maleness, sweat and fear permeated the air. A big redhead approached, swinging slowly, and the Sultan pointed and chuckled. His rear end was very red, obviously having just received a severe thrashing. His cock was long with a huge bulb. He looked like the typical blue collar worker from Philly, freckles, lanky, tats on his arms. He was in his mid 20's and like most guys here had opted for slave service in lieu of a long prison sentence. Jere was taken down, cuffs removed and his hands again bound to his neck. He was pushed, stumbling, clean inside and out, blind, wet and shocked at the turn of events. Two more soldiers who looked like recruits grabbed him and pulled him to their station, talking about a local soccer game all the while. His gag was removed and he repeated the story about being an aide to the King of Slovenia. The shorter one laughed and asked where the fuck Slovenia was. "Stand over here, bud." He moved slowly, not wanting to trip in the darkness, hating having to obey these young men who now held authority. He gasped in shock when he felt leather under the base of his balls and his hardon was pulled back so that the strap could be snapped. The fit was snug around his rampant prick, his nuts pooched forwards. The lad stepped back, hands on hips. "That's a cockring, dude -- looking good!" Jere made a pitiful sound and the lad gripped his shoulder. "Yep, now that those fat nuts can be properly displayed with that donkey dick!" They took turns pulling the cock to the side and letting it spring up, laughing at the constant hardness. They asked him where he was from and he repeated his assertions. "OK, if you wanna keep on with that story. It'll probably bring more at auction." He was jolted and asked what he meant. They removed his blindfold and he blinked at the light. "The auction, man. You're going on stage for sale so we want you looking your best." Both men laughed as they casually began coating his strapping body with thick oil. "Man, you are ripped! Come on, Jones, let's make these muscles shine." His cock pulsed under the strokes and when his balls were coated he rose on tip toes, moaning at the sensation. The two young men teased him unmercifully, stroking and rubbing and pinching, delighted to torment this handsome stud who obviously had never felt the touch of another man. One guy took his time rubbing oil on the hairy sac. He took each nut and slowly massaged it as the soon-to-be slave tried to stand still. Jere tried to follow the conversation between the pair. They seemed typically boisterous without any cruelty -- just two dudes having a little fun at the expense of a rich slave. They laughed at the gals they picked up from the local bar for tourists on the weekends. He could hardly bear the thought of his slavery much less the very public, auction that loomed before him. One of the guards held a thick belt with "attachments". It went around his waist and he felt an attached dildo probe his crack. He screamed, "No fucking way" and the tall one said to "calm down". He was not about to let them put that thing up his bum. He jumped off the little platform but got only about five feet in the dark before running into another soldier. He heard good-natured laughter as he was returned and one of his tormentors barked, "Gotcha!" He was told that he'd pay for his little escape attempt with a special little dildo up his cute ass. Kicking and screaming he was thrown over a railing, held firmly as his round ass thrust high in the air. His strong, hairy legs kicked and his bottom tightened. "Here, Kent, use Ivan on the bad boy." He jerked Jere's face up by his ears and drew very close, his hot breath inches away. "Time you learned who the boss is around here, dude." He felt his bottom spread and the thing shoved in with sweat the only lube. It seemed enormous but his mind was centered on the burrs of tiny bristles that sent tiny explosions of sensation to his brain. All else was forgotten as he tried in vain to close his anus. His mouth opened and a low "Ohhh' was repeated continually. The young men looked at one another and grinned as they pushed slowly, inch by inch. They watched his face closely, asking him how his ass felt after every small shove. "This is what happens when you don't follow the rules. I bet you wish you'd controlled yourself and got a thin little rod up your ass rather than this scratchy bugger. Tell me, how bad is that itch?" Jere did not answer but twisted and bucked as it slid deeper, the bristles creating a sensation so awful that it consumed him. No matter what he did that itch could not be satisfied. "Feel good, bud?" The once-arrogant stud was raised and barely able to stand, sweating, whimpering and squirming against the deep, incessant, harsh tickle that never stopped. When he opened his mouth it was plugged with a huge dick gag. The plastic rod was thick and short and stretched his lips further than the ball gag. It was overwhelming, all the sensations, and now his nips were clamped with tiny, plastic clips attached to a thin chain that hung down. The chain was loop around his cock, keeping it high in the air, leaking profusely, the head swollen so big it resembled a tomato. "Got some nice chest hair, man. That brings a bonus usually." Jere stood silently, quaking, wagging his tail from side to side as the sensations kept exploding in his head. A new guard took his arm and led him stumbling to another area, watching his spasms with amusement as the tiny buzzes of sharp sensation kept him on edge. The place looked like a nudist gathering for crying, erect men. Most were dressed like him although a few had more leather. He stared around the room as the noise flowed over him, sounds of sobbing, pleas and laughter. Loud smacks were heard occasionally as guards whacked bottoms of those who disobeyed or for no reason at all. The crackle of the microphone startled them and an Arab man with a British accent spoke. Jere could not even look down but felt his cock, rigid and shiny, and he was going on sale. >From JERES Point of View - "Welcome to the weekly auction. We have an exceptional offering this time and I am sure you will be satisfied." The words made this nightmare a reality. I detected no words behind the gags but heard moans and groans. My blindfold was at last removed and I witnessed scenes of solitary suffering, moaning, twisting and shivering as a guard idly teased their cocks that stood stiffly from patches of curls. Even though I'd been warned not to move I couldn't help it as I tried for anything to relieve the throb. One spasm brought a firm warning from a nearby guard who scolded me, pointing his finger as if I were 8 years old while lightly squeezing my wet, cock head until the hot liquid seeped out slowly. Roils of anxiety coursed through my body and my cock pumped even harder. I was moved near the front of the line. At least I'd get it over early but did I want that? Fuck the King, fuck him. We were pressed together and men who had never been naked with another guy were now feeling hard cocks pressed against them. It was excruciatingly real -- being forcibly exposed before a huge audience with a raging hardon. I could barely conceive of such a humiliation much less be part of it. The first guy, a European about 20, breathed heavily and appeared on the verge of collapse. He was lean, smooth with light brown hair and a darker stubble, shaking like a leaf. His uncut prick stood up straight and tears rolled down his hot cheeks. A guard noticed his reaction and wrapped a big arm around him and spoke in a low, intimate voice. "It's only six months, Jan, understand?" The young man nodded, crying silently. "Don't worry about those tears, you'll cry a lot in the next few weeks." He suddenly burst into wails and the guard let him press against him, burying his face in the guard's shoulder. The guard rubbed the back of his neck as he reached down to jiggle the awful dildo up the slave's ass.. I looked around and several slaves were squatting, spreading their legs to avoid the thrust of the scratchy dildo. They were bad boys like me who did not follow the rules. I tried it, lowering myself slightly. The relief was instant as I opened up and lessened the pressure. The lower I squatted and the wider I spread my legs the better it got. I heard bidding and cheering, cries and screams then applause. "Time to go, bud." A burly Marine took my arm and I straightened. "No, you look real cute that way. Squat lower...more....spread those legs wide...yeah, that's it, now get on that stage like a fucking bowlegged frog." The mob got a big kick out of my difficult waddling for I could only take tiny steps. My ass was only 2 feet off the floor and my legs and thighs strained. The heat of the moment consumed me and I blinked tears, trembling uncontrollably. When I tried to stand I received a hearty smack and a loud command to stay in position. The crowd echoed that order with glee. I was blinded by the lights of the stage and the wetness in my eyes. The huge noise from the buyers was overpowering and I picked up only a word every now and then. I could not help but think of how I looked, a big, hairy muscle guy shuffling along slowly at a squat, sweating, shaking, dick pointing upwards, breathing so loud I could barely hear myself think. My wrists were bound up and every inch was on display. The dildo drilled with each step and the auctioneer spoke in a jolly tone as he kneaded my shoulder almost affectionately. "Seems you had an appointment with Ivan!" That was the name commonly used for the itchy dildo. I felt my whole body spasm in scarlet shame when he grinned and continued rubbing the stubble on my face briskly. He squeezed my dick head then gave my rump a loud pop. "Stand up straight, slave. You can get back to your favorite position on your own time." I rose quickly, shuddering at the rush of itchy sensation. I couldn't believe the nightmare -- trapped on this stage. I could not get past my enormous erection that delighted the crowd. Just then I gasped and a long strand of cum dropped and a long strand slowly stretched to the floor. I closed my eyes as those up close pointed and howled. The crowd cheered and stomped at my obvious inability to control myself. I wanted to die right then but instead I was being turned around, bent over and my stuffed anus shown to the crowd. They cheered as hands parted the hair back there and jiggled the thing up and down, shockwaves ripping thru my body bringing the inevitable wiggling. "European stock, think of the fun you'll have with this one. I bet you were one hell of a playboy, right?" I blinked, confused and taut. "This is all new for him. Think of it folks, from suit and tie to standing dick in minutes. He's ready to start serving, what's that name, boy?" The word "boy" threw me for a loop as I stood biting the dick gag. He held the microphone up to my face and snickered. "What's wrong, you getting shy?" I bit harder on the huge rod as he told them my name. He rubbed my face with a cloth, speaking almost confidentially that my tears were flowing too fast to keep up with. He added he'd wipe my tears at "both ends" and polished my leaking knob. I gave a squeal and the mob screamed its delight. He was ready to begin and picked up the mike. "Bidding starts at $10,000 for Macho Man. Yes, second row, $11,000...$12,500..." When it slowed he pulled my cock back to let it smack loudly on my stomach, reminding them of its huge girth and length. The crowd cheered as it threw off droplets of cum. He kept my chin high with one hand, asking the crowd to look at that handsome mug. He tormented me with the other hand, rubbing or squeezing areas. His fingers slowly rubbed my ribbed abs, grazing the moist cock head. "I'll throw in this nice rubber paddle that I can assure you really packs a wallop." He handed it to the guard who obliged the crowd, bending me over and delivering a mighty lick that had me yelping behind the gag. I was not even aware that the auctioneer had brought the mike closer to catch my garbled scream. The bidding started up again and the guard squeezed my tail which was stinging. I was sniffling, not bothering to hold back my tears and then I was shaken out of my revelry by the loud, "Sold to 413!" I was rushed to the other side of the stage between two Marines. My cock remained upright, throbbing and leaking, held high by the nip chain. The slaves who'd come before me stood with their buyers who ranged from older Arabs to young Europeans. The guard made me squat low again and though I hated my appearance the stance relieved pressure. I took a sharp breath when I saw the King and Marcus in the distance. They were in deep conversation but still nodded and smiled to several who recognized them. My consternation as they approached could not be measured. I wanted to run away, to hide, to do anything but meet this familiar pair and yet they drew nearer, headed my way. They stopped, smiling at my erection and horrid position. I trembled visibly, trying to maintain the low crouch. "Jere, what awful posture!" I could not say a word as they circled me. "Don't you look all spiffy, nice and shiny and that prick just keeps on keeping on." I dropped my head so that I would not have to face the two but a sharp tug on the dick gag brought my face up. "Keep your eyes on me at all times. I'm your ruler, after all." I obeyed, swallowing and trembling as Marcus gave a lopsided grin that was a half-smirk. "I met your new boss, a Scot and a real nice guy. There he is coming this way." I saw the man walk swiftly and time seemed to stop. He was a European around 40 and the "free gift", the rubber strap, dangled from his belt. He gave me a quick glance then shook hands with the King and Marcus once again. Nikos directed his attention back to me and the man began a close appraisal, circling me, squeezing and rubbing. "Look at him, right off the bus. He looks even better up close." Marcus reached out and rubbed the knob between two fingers. The slit opened wider and hot cum flowed out in tiny burps. The man slapped my back and I winced as my thighs burned with the difficulty of maintaining this position. He turned to them quite amused. "He certainly looks harder!" All three busted up at that and though he chuckled I realized this guy was no slouch. His eyes carried a humorous but cruel look as he rubbed his clean shaven face. His suit was a designer label and I was terrified. Then I heard someone call his name in a deep voice with a familiar accent. A young man in his mid 20's strode over as someone pressed an instrument next to my back. I felt a stab, a small sting and the words that my chip was now in place. My owner nodded almost absentmindedly, listening to the King. He finally turned and introduced the new guy. "This is Troy Benghum, my overseer. He may look young but he came from an island off the Georgia coast and knows how to run a tight ship. If this slave thinks he's got it rough now, wait till Troy takes over. You don't want to make him mad fellow or he'll show some personal interest, right Troy?" The man smirked and chuckled. He was an American Southerner, one of those no-nonsense, slow-talking guys who didn't take shit from anyone. They all shook hands and I noticed his hand was large and strong. In seconds he was in easy conversation with Marcus, smiling and nodding his head. He wore a sleeveless, tight muscle shirt that highlighted his powerful arms and neck, deeply tanned. His sandy hair was cut in a longish crew cut. He had stubble on his face and was about my height and weight. He was dressed and I was naked -- what a difference. He smiled, arms folded easily as they exchanged news from the States. While chatting he unconsciously pulled on his crotch and rubbed the back of his neck. At last Mr. Daniels announced they were all going to lunch. Nikos looked at me. "What about him?" The King pointed at me as Mr. Daniels waved him off. "Troy will handle him, right?" Troy gave a crisp "yes sir" and my heart beat faster when he turned and looked me up and down with amused contempt, twisting his lower lip in a sneer as he watched my pumping erection. Nikos said loudly he hoped I was obedient since he'd hate it if I got in trouble so early. He shook Troy's hand again and they left. The foreman yanked me into the corridor and gave me a firm shove. "Get moving and keep that squat!" I would get no explanation or conversation from this fellow. He stopped, lit a cigarette, then continued without a word. The sweat poured from my body as I began this shameful journey, grunting at the constant effort to keep in position. I did look like a fucking frog, squatting so low with my legs spread, waddling slowly. I was surrounded by businessmen, traders, vendors and gawkers. His occasional touch reminded me of his presence and my status. Everything was swirling -- the process, the nakedness, arousal, the casual purchase and harsh discipline and of course the itch. My dick looked gigantic in the cock ring and stood straight up facing every pair of amused eyes I met. The waddling only added to my difficulty but Troy's sneer told me this was the way I'd stay. Was it possible to be more debased? He talked on his cell phone as we walked and I trembled harder. I could not speak, only obey every command. I was so consumed with thoughts of the future that I'd slowed down. Troy gave a sigh of disgust and attached a leash to my cock. Now he pulled me after him rapidly and I knew better than to rise. Just keeping up was excruciating. At a small table he completed the paperwork and a passerby commented that my butt looked cute bouncing up and down. I shook so badly that he had to hold my shoulder as we headed toward the crowded parking lot. Expensive cars drove past, Arab men in both traditional and Western attire milled about, smoking and chatting. The presence of American Marines was everywhere you turned -- a couple on break enjoying a cigarette, two laughing easily under a palm tree, a group in soccer shorts and shirts emblazoned with a local team. There were also slaves, both new and seasoned. It was not difficult to see which was which -- the new ones looked shell-shocked and were desperate to cover their genitals. Almost all the newly minted slaves were in my predicament -- our wrists were bound to up and we couldn't cover a thing. A blue-collar, foul mouthed Italian had been in line right behind me and now he was chastened as he shuffled by. His new boss liked my stance so much he was also forced into the awful squat, trembling and heaving as he semi-crawled along. A smiling burly Marine stood behind him with a thick strap eager to remind him the penalty for attempting to rise. The owner nodded and they disappeared. I was startled to hear the loud crash of a paddle and a rough order to "get that ass down". Troy removed the leash then complained that I got "fucking goo" on it. He wiped it on my chest and pressed a strong hand on my shoulder, shoving me down low to that awful crouch as we winded our way thru the busy lot. The humiliation kept growing, forced in this torturous position by this arrogant young guy now in charge. He strode steadily as we passed rows of shiny cars and shoppers with bags, his hand glued to my shoulder, keeping me in place. I winced at every low laugh or chuckle, the shame consuming me. I could only imagine how I appeared to those we passed. At last we arrived at his car, a silver BMW, and he popped the trunk. As I was about to climb in we heard a loud voice and a sudden sheet of dread rose. It was Marcus who was riding with King Nikos in Mr. Daniel's big limousine. They stopped and Marcus got out, saying he was going to stay with us. He and the Americans were sudden pals. Mr D handed him the free gift, the rubber paddle, and Marcus made an exaggerated point of showing it to me. They got a kick out of my expression. The car disappeared leaving me alone with the two. Marcus swung the thing in the air several times as Troy grinned. "How's that thing feel man?" Marcus looked at him and locked eyes with me. My heart raced at the look he gave me. I was still squatting and he lifted my chin, held it high. He spoke to Troy but kept his eyes on me. "Nice weight, smooth swing, wonder if it packs a good wallop?" He was grinning and I shuddered at his not-so--innocent smile. Troy snapped his fingers to me. "Get over here, slave." I gulped, dying a little with each difficult waddle as I approached, petrified of their intentions, shivering uncontrollably before the pair. A few men had stopped to watch the little show. My mind screamed in protest as wordlessly Troy made me turn and face the lot, staring at the little crowd who detected something going on. My trembles were as much from anxiety as my physical condition. I blinked back tears and jumped when a hand rubbed my rump followed by a low chuckle. The heat was almost unbearable but all I could do was wait for it to play out. It was all happening so fast that for a moment I'd forgotten that my oversize prick was pointing straight up. Arabic was most what I heard and I shut my eyes, completely at their mercy. I could kick myself for the many insults I'd given Marcus. Troy bent over to stare at my face, watching closely. I was hot and wet, in the throes of a silent agony, the ominous silence as terrifying as his orders. My mouth ached, my knees ached, my thighs ached and I just knew in seconds my butt would outdo them all. Troy looked at me then at Marcus. "You got a nice target, bud." In Slovenia I was featured on a calendar in just my boxers, voted the most eligible bachelor in the nation, a trend setter who just days ago fucked three gals before dinner and now I was reduced to this. In the mirror of a nearby car I caught sight of Marcus who had shed his white shirt, tied it around his waist. He stood in a lowcut "T", looking like a hoodlum, the wicked, black rubber paddle at the end of his muscular arm. I shut my eyes, tightened my rump and when it crashed with a loud WHAP I hollered behind the gag and tried to rise. Troy kept a hand on the back of my neck as he watched closely. What a fucking blow! My ass was on fire. "Slave, how long do you think it would take my buddy to rawhide your pretty bottom?" Troy seemed to be trying to read my mind, his eyes locked with mine, his voice low and intimate. A new lick landed and I jerked again, twisting my head violently. He continued to gaze when a third lick startled me. I spread my hairy, powerful legs wider to balance myself as the crowd giggled as another new slave learned a valuable lesson. "I bet he could do it in less than 30 minutes but I don't have the time." I shivered as I waited for him to finish this little conversation. "Do you understand what I can do to you if I want?" I nodded and he shook his head. "I asked you a question." The paddle smacked again. I shook my head ferociously now, crying out behind the gag, trying to convey that I did understand. What a fucking sight I must make -- shaking, sobbing and he looked quite satisfied and faintly amused. Behind me Marcus stood, arms folded, legs wide, waiting for another signal as a few in the crowd called out for him to "get busy". "It's tough for you rich boys -- you think the world is yours for the plucking. You may have been some handsome stud out there with gals spreading their legs daily and twice on Sunday. Well, that monster will stay hard with the drug until it becomes as normal as breathing." My mind flooded with images, Marcus, the overseer, the paddle, the stage but I stared at the resolute, handsome face and square jaw of my overseer. He stood up and folded his arms, watching my quivering, bent body, listening to the harsh sound of air forced through my nostrils. I got another lick and Marcus jerked me upright, whispering. "How's that rump feel, Jere?" I cringed when his large hand began to squeeze the red flesh in front of the oogling crowd and they also began lecturing me. "You're lucky Troy's a nice guy, otherwise I'd have thrashed this pretty butt till you couldn't sit for a week." I shook at the words and his husky hot breath on my ears as his palm continued to rub the stripes he'd laid down. The public humiliation consumed me as my rump was being slowly rubbed by the guy who'd reddened it! Troy's grin at the little scene was just as bad and he opened the back door and motioned me inside with an exaggerated motion. Before I sat he took my chin, pulling me close for a warning. "You are going to become invisible. You can sit and stare at your boner for all I care. If I have any trouble at all I'm pulling over to the side of the road and tying you to the top of the car like a snow board, understand?" I nodded and blinked as fresh tears ran down my face. I groaned when my sore butt touched the surface but a seat belt kept my in place. Marcus got one leg, Troy the other, and pulled them up and back, tying them aloft with other seat belts. I was now spread for viewing and my hairiness from my neck to my spine was on full view. Someone made a joke about my visible stuffed anus and the deep itch inside. My huge cock was harder than ever, wet and rigid. Troy squeezed the tip several times just to remind me I was helplessly erect. I sat back, biting my lip, breathing in huge gulps as Marcus whispered I was a fucking dumbass. He pulled back and spoke in a jolly tone. "There you go, all set for a nice ride!" They laughed and jumped in the front seat. "If you're a good boy on the way home I'll think about removing that itch stick up your tail. Would you like that, Speedo?" I nodded then the glass partition rose shutting out their laughter. I stared into a mirror and the sight was devastating -- my crimson face, thick pits, hairy torso, swollen nuts and thick straining prick. My hair was sopping wet and I was spread wide open, the dildo visible in the midst of the black curls. The red stripes on my ass were plain as day and over and over I squirmed with the insufferable itch. I recalled the movies and the men begging to come, how they were tied down for the night on the edge of an orgasm, woken only to be teased. I'd laughed but now I understood. Then it hit, a slight electric buzzing from within me and I howled behind the gag. Oh fuck, oh man, what was that? It buzzed again and I yelped, suddenly realizing the dildo not only vibrated but discharged a short burst of electricity. For the rest of the trip it kept going off, buzzing randomly in little pulses that coaxed out a continual stream of clear, thick cum. I was kept on edge, never knowing when the next buzz was coming. My breathing was so loud I knew they could hear me thru the closed partition. When I looked down at my prick I was amazed - the slit stayed wide open as liquid flowed steadily -- that's how close I was to an orgasm. It hit again and I threw my head back, moaning, my eyes rolling backwards. I was in heat, needing to come so badly it literally ached. My balls were swollen and sore. Sexual desire was torture and it affected me greatly. I heard a loud guffaw and opened my eyes. The two had turned and were watching my helpless, frantic movements, hearing me moan and twist and noticing that my cock was on the verge of bursting. "You come and you're in trouble." Oh fuck, oh man, I was caught between fear and desire. The entire trip I squirmed and groaned and at last we arrived. I stared at the strange structure, a set of buildings in an oasis. The center building was not large but dark and foreboding. Someone opened the door to the car and I felt another jolt of anxiety at the sound of loud male voices wondering about the "new purchase." The local workers crowded close and in the background I heard a clear female voice over the din. "Let me see what my husband picked this time." I was in a panic that a woman would see me in this state. I tried to draw back into the seat but a shock of long, red hair thrust inside the car and her delighted voice stopped me in my tracks. "Oh my, gorgeous!" The men cackled at her observation and satisfaction. Her eyes stare at my pulsing cock and it jumped. Nothing could be worse than this, splayed out naked with a huge boner before my new mistress. She lightly tugged on some curls in my crack and I threw my head back, almost gurgling. She was beautiful, around 30 and seemed quite sure of herself. "I bet he left a string of broken hearts behind. Who doesn't like `em strong, handsome and hairy." Guys whistled and quickly undid my straps. "Come on, movie star, Ms D needs to inspect that boner up close!" The group was divided between local Arabs and the usual Americans hires eager for some fresh entertainment. Hands unbuckled my leg bindings and my seat belt was undone as I twisted. I was pulled from the car and held tightly between two, muscular workers as the woman again stared at my pulsing erection. She reddened slightly and her tongue flicked out over her full, red lips making my cock jump. I was sweaty and had the desire of a dog in heat. "Be a good boy mpw." She reached out and rubbed the stubble on my cheek then circled my stretched lips. She examined the dick gag, amused at my stretched mouth. Her finger traced down my neck and made a slow figure eight on my chest, circling each clamped nip. She lifted black hairs on my chest and I shivered, closing my eyes. Speech was impossible with the cock gag but muffled sounds of shock were plainly heard. She again took hold of the gag, moving it in a circle, sideways then up and down as the men choked with laughter. My eyes were wide open now, almost bulging. "That must be modeled from this your mouth is stretched so wide." She pointed down and I shook my head in protest as she slowly slid her finger down the thick trail of tight, black curls that grew thick in the center of my chest. She watched my face as a finger ran up and down the small chain that stretched from my nips to my cock head. I shook my head rapidly knowing what was coming, and when her fingers stroked the sticky tip softly I almost swooned. Arms held me tight as she proceeded to squeeze it gently between two fingers, coaxing out drops of liquid. I felt goosebumps break out on my body as I trembled. The workers adjusted their crotches, captivated. They snickered when she released the tip and the organ jumping around helplessly. "You must like this, right?" The guy who asked the question grabbed the gag and rocked it up and down, making me agree with him. She studied my cock ring, smiling at its setup then removed it and the chained loop. She smiled when my cock sprang loose, standing tall, dark red and throbbing. "Pity his poor gal pals," she remarked. "I bet he's bigger than any of you." They issued a good-natured denial as she slowly pulled my dick down until I hissed and breathed so loud it tuned out the comments. Then she let it flop back to smack my stomach. I gave a low "ooooooh" that was unmistakable even muffled and another round of cheering went up. Behind her stood Troy and Marcus, sipping a drink and smiling. I could not stand it any longer and jumped from the clutches of my captors. The workers cornered me in seconds, laughing as they hauled me back. The young man to my left said I'd better learn to obey and gave my rump a huge bare-handed smack. I jumped and hollered behind the gag while the men cheered boisterously. I blinked and gulped, tears flowing freely. Her little hands tugged on the thick black pubes, marveling at its density and volume. I knew I was going to explode when she suddenly drifted to my furry thighs then onto my vulnerable testicles. She held first one and the then the other, then both, rubbing very softly as I quivered and whimpered as the men watched her little performance. "Look at all the curls that sprout on this sack!" I was lost in the torment of sexual pleasure. When I dared open my eyes, Marcus and Troy had moved beside her, grinning smugly. Marcus, in that cocky tone, spoke up. "Only one thing left." I swallowed catching his barely-concealed glee. "Turn around, slave, let's check out that pretty rear end." It took my breath away, what they wanted me to do. "Bend over and spread those legs." I was in utter misery and unable to stop the flow of tears as I slowly turned and spread my legs wider at his command. I was bent over until I could look up between my legs at my Mistress. She said "Peek a boo". "Boys, how about opening him up." A hand touched each tight buttock and pulled them apart. I keened my shame, sobbing when she took hold of the dildo and jostled it inside me. As she move it around, Troy explained that it was for punishment. Her comments were mortifying. "Oh, all those thick curls -- and look at this sexy behind. Who strapped him?" Marcus smugly replied he'd had to "teach me a lesson" not too long ago. Her finger traced my stuffed anus almost tenderly as I sobbed, completed demoralized at this point. I could barely stand in place I was so upset but finally the inspection ended and I was raised. Troy placed a hand on my head and forced me into the unholy squat to the amusement of all. The gang screamed their approval when he hung a weight from my balls that swung as I moved. The lady spoke up as we turned. "Troy, let's discuss this later." I knew immediately that they were lovers. He answered with a tight "Yes ma'am." The weights felt heavy, tugging and teasing at the same time. I passed the hooting workers on the long, slow waddle into the house as the thing swung back and forth. I flushed at their comments and they really enjoyed my little hobble, running in front of me to watch and scream insults. "Ah look, Speedo's bawling!" I couldn't help it, it was sensory overload. I shuffled, inching forward, groaning and whimpering. Marcus berated me for being so slow. Troy yelled for me to stand up. I did so and the men continued their antics, tormenting me mercilessly, tugging on my body hair or slapping my cock. They finally tired of the fun and when they left the awful dildo was jerked out. It threw me off balance a bit and I reached out and grabbed hold of his shirt. I felt strangely empty. My wrists were unbuckled and when I tried to stretch the cramped muscles a new order rang out. "Hands and knees!" I dropped, my mouth still painfully circling the thick rod. We started up a long hallway with a bright red runner that felt oddly luxurious. The weight made a soft noise as I pulled it on the rug, groaning at the tugs to my nuts. He called someone on his cell and an Arab young man appeared. "Feed this new slave then clean him up before delivering him to my office." The man bowed slightly and ordered me to get my white butt down the hall. I followed him into a thin alcove and waited while he poured dried food into a bowl on the floor. He removed my gag, wordlessly forcing my face into the crunchy mess. I gobbled it down quickly, ignoring the bland taste and hard texture. He set another bowl of water down and I tried to sip it. "No, lap it like a dog." His boot slid under and rubbed my aching nuts and the base of my erection. I jumped when his cool palm pressed my sore rump. "You got a couple of licks?" I almost snorted at his observation but shivered when he continued. "You'll get a real thrashing before long I guarantee." What did he think this was if not real? He picked a long flexible rod from a hook and using it, lifted my hips high in the air, telling me I should get used to the rod since all guards had one. "Hop on your tiptoes, keep eating, spread those strong legs, knees straight." I munched, trying to take my mind off the sight I must present. It was hard to hold this ignominious position, especially since the rough tip of the rod had sunk deep in my crack. I caught my breath as it moved up and down, scratching, rubbing and irritating my hole, ruffling the curls. He rubbed the bottoms of my feet which were raised. The rod then ran up and down inside my legs from knees to bulging balls to the other knee. I was a stinking, sweaty mess when he knelt behind me, a hand on my back. "That cock looks like a third arm it's so huge." He gently examined my balls and I thought I'd die. I looked up and saw a long line of cum hanging from the tip of my prick. It was just the two of us although occasionally I heard the sounds of footsteps as someone passed or the presence of a worker fetching something from a closet. They spoke to my tormentor, calling him Farad, coming over to see what he was doing. He'd resume the gentle torture to my scrotum, the continual rubbing making me shake and wiggle until I knew that in seconds I was going to shoot my load. He stopped instantly leaving my angry prick throbbing and leaking. "You handsome, big boys get extra attention. Guards like nothing better than having a macho, athletic guy to torment so you are in for a treat. Now let's get you all cleaned up so you can start your service. Get down the hall and stay on tiptoes, knees straight, palms flat on the floor." Moving like this was almost as difficult as the squat especially since I went so slow and he rubbed the rough tip up and down my crack, making me shiver and gasp as sensations startled me. He kept having to remind me to raise my tail high. We stopped once so he could talk to the cook about dinner that night. The cook leaned over and grinned, asked who I was. I said I was an aide to a king and they laughed. The shower room was a low wooden structure that smelled dank. An Arab servant was called over and told to scrub me up good. He nodded, took my arm and raised me up, leading me under a showerhead. He began coating my body with soap but I flung his hands off. "I can wash my own fucking body." Instantly Farad stepped out of the darkness and told me I was not to say a word but to stand with my arms raised. I argued with him and he said again to be quiet. I seethed and obeyed but when the man rubbed my ass I spewed, telling him to keep his hands off. Farad quickly spoke into a small transmitter and in 15 seconds three burly American Marines rushed in. They grabbed me and I tried to pull away but my arms were twisted and I was goose-stepped to another wall with nozzles amid thick, upright posts. The wood beams had cuffs and I knew the score. Silently my arms were stretched out and tied to the posts, my legs quickly following. I was spread eagled, gasping and panting, then the blindfold plunged me into darkness. I shook my head vigorously but it stayed in place. "That should be easier now, Rafi. I'm sure he needs the nozzle too." In seconds I cried our as my rear end was spread and a long tube with series of ridges was inserted. Every small rise on the surface seemed like a mountain and sent me into new quavers but it was lodged firmly in place. Rafi gave my rump a few light taps and said, "There you go." The liquid jetted and he scrubbed, waves of humiliation washing over me. The spray stopped and I listened for the slightest sound. I stretched my hands and took a breath as I was lathered. I froze at the sound in the distance and in horror I recognized the loud raucous voices of my greeting committee, talking trash and joking with one another. "Well look who's getting all nice and clean!" I stared straight ahead which was all I could do since I was unable to see a thing." "Why you hanging out here, man?" My prick was smacked and pulled and rubbed as I tried to jerk back from the possessive hands. Then they took over my bathing, soaping my balls and cock until I pumped my crotch like a bitch in heat. I moaned loudly when someone ground the rubber tube deep and the liquid finally stopped. "Here's a shit bucket." I felt a cold metal rim on my backside and the tube was jerked out. I tried to hold back but in this position it exploded in a loud, terrible noise that had the men almost choking they were laughing so hard. My hairy chest, armpits and crotch were lathered and two of the men tried to force a bar of soap in my mouth. They held my head tightly and pinched my nose. When I opened my mouth to gasp for air they thrust in the foul-tasting log. A hand rubbed my neck and a deep voice snarled with delight. "There you go, don't that feel better now?" I was weak, shivering at the degradation, his playful tone and their enjoyment. I was holding a bar of soap in my mouth and my prick would not go down but stayed nice and stiff the entire time. Suddenly the noise ceased and when they backed up I spit the bar of soap out. I heard Troy's voice and sure enough, Marcus chimed in. "OK men, that's enough fun for now. I have to take care of some bad behavior before the party tonight." Their silence vanished for now they erupted into shrieks and shouts of "Yeah!" encouraging him to teach me a lesson. I was rinsed and I opened my mouth to spit out the residue of the soap and riinse out the foul taste. Still bound, I was quickly dried and then my limbs were released. I recoiled when Troy firmly lifted my chin. "Didn't I warn you about acting right?" When I tried to explain he told me to shut up. In the pause that followed he barked, "Take him to the wood shed!" The men went nuts, screaming and cheering like we'd won the World Cup. My mind was flooded with images and a paralyzing dread took hold of me, rising with each passing second. My heart pounded faster as the sheer force of the crowd moved me along. I stood taller than most of them but a 10:1 ratio is hard to beat. "Jason, get my wooden paddle in my office!" The men cheered lustily and Jason snapped a loud "Yes sir!" as I was taken to meet my fate, the awful reality of it setting in. I was dragged into the hot sun and though unable to see, worried that others would see. We entered a room -- the coolness and dankness only adding to my sense of dread. "This is the woodshed, dude, and you know what happens in here." I froze as the jeering worker patted my bottom. This was too fucking much and it was going to happen in front of this rowdy gang. I was bent over a railing, my arms held tightly. Someone squatted and held the back of my neck, telling me to hold on and they'd get started right away. My insides quivered like jelly and I could barely catch my breath. The man kneeling noticed my shudders and laughed. "You better be scared, bud. That pretty behind is gonna do a lot of moving and shaking in the next 15 minutes. Hey boss, he's read for his whipping." When the man pressed my head lower, my feet rose so that my tiptoes barely scraped the wooden floor. I could not help but shake especially at the cute reply. "It's not a whipping, Abak, it's a nice spanking with my friendly wooden board!" The gang responded with a roar as the paddle crashed across both cheeks. The instant heat and pain defied description as it smacked my tight, round rump with a loud crack. I cried out in wonder and pain. "Count `em , slave!" "One!" The board packed an incredible wallop that made me forget about the whacks from Marcus." Another smack. "Two!" I had never experienced a thing like it -- the immediacy of this fiery punishment amid hooting, excited males. Images formed in my mind - bent across this beam getting my bare bottom paddled as a gang of lowlifes screamed their approval. At the same time, the intensity of the thrashing captured my attention. By the ninth whack I could think of nothing else except the board and how my wiggling red bottom responded to it. Every single blow was solid and many swung upwards, striking the curved underside of my ass, making me shoot up on tiptoes and raise my tail in the air as I hollered. Soon I was bucking and fighting wildly but the young men holding me laughed knowingly, all too aware how futile that was. "You ain't going nowhere, Speedo. Just relax and enjoy it." I felt the hand on the back of my neck, rubbing slowly as if giving strength for this ordeal. I knew that I would never sit again when I screamed 16. My cries grew more desperate and when I began kicking my legs wildly the men cheered even louder. At last he stopped and I was jerked up, convulsing and sobbing for all the shiny, smiling faces. Troy chuckled behind me. "This ain't over, bud, I'm just working up a little sweat." I heard him pull off his T-shirt. Someone knocked my chin in the air -- holding my face aloft as the sneering men yelled their crude comments. I recognized some of the voices enjoying the new entertainment. I knew they were elbowing each other, grinning broadly at the sight. The crowd never let up, taunting without ceasing. "Not so tough now, are you?" Someone else was close. "I bet his fuck babes would love to see him now. Hey, that dick is finally drooping a bit." They played off one another and drew even closer. "OK, here's the real question...which would you rather be doing -- riding around in your expensive sports car or getting your ass blistered?" They screeched and I was shoved over the beam again, shouting and blubbering as the board resumed its punishment. The laughter exploded from the group and another guy spoke up loudly. "No, I got it...which would you rather be doing -- eating a juicy steak or a juicy cock?" I thought about what they said only for an instant but I was flopping over the beam, bucking like a stallion as my rear end was paddled raw. At last he stopped yet the noise of the smacks still rung in my ears and the rhythm I'd developed continued. A large cool palm felt the broiling flesh as I wept in big, loud sobs. I was broken and it was only the first hour. The hand squeezed sending bursts of pain to my brain. He asked me in a low whisper if he did a good job. Farad spoke up, wondering if I could act right from now on. I nodded and tried to talk despite my sobbing. He said I must always answer with "yes sir" or "no sir". I mumbled the hated words and waited as Troy lifted my chin so that I faced him with wet eyes. "I'm not sure if you've really learned your lesson. Maybe you need another round." I began begging and pleading fervently, telling him I was SO sorry and I would NEVER mess up again. I swore I'd act right from now on. I was not even thinking about my esteem, just stopping this whipping. He finally nodded and I was untied. I would have collapsed but the men held me up. "I bet we don't have any trouble from this one the rest of the day." For once I had to agree with him. Marcus made me jump and yelp as he pinched my blazing left rump. Another guy grabbed the other buttock and together they tormented me all the way back. I spasmed at their clutches, hopping and screeching as we marched back to the shower with the gang. I endured another soapy wash still blindfolded, choking on my sobs. At least the guy was gentle when he scrubbed my crimson flesh. I was dried and Farad entered. I was absolutely naked -- no collar, cuffs or cock ring. He removed the blindfold and made me squat. I headed off, the anxiety building. We entered a large hall and I saw two other naked slaves in the distance vigorously scrubbing the floor. They did not even look up when we entered. He pointed at a bucket and I carried it against the wall. "Start!" That was it, a one-word command. The whole thing suddenly crystallized -- this was not a movie, a joke or even a trick gone bad. This was a new world, one of orders and humiliations and naked hardons. I learned the correct scrubbing position, on all fours, legs wide. The floor consisted of thousands of tiles so progress could be accurately measured. Another guard, surely an American Marine, strolled around the place keeping an eye on us. A long leather paddle hung from his belt and he looked my way and walked over. "Newby, Anderson, just arrived and already got his bottom blistered." I swallowed at his snicker and started scrubbing, trying not to pay attention to their little conversation. One of the slaves turned and his cock was very hard yet he worked as if the condition were normal. This was nothing like those stupid porn movies or XXX books. It was helpless guys not babes and the servitude and feeling of lowliness cannot be described. I thought I was working diligently when a boot moved in front of me. I looked up, petrified, at the rough grin. "How you like it around here so far?" I blanched and he cackled, walking away with his little joke. I scrubbed tile after tile and it grew harder as people walked thru on their way to another part of the place. Windows were being installed by Sears and the work men acted as if it were normal for muscular, strapping guys to crawl on a shiny floor with a huge hardon. I was looking at them when the strap crashed across my rump. "Get busy, pretty boy, you're not here to gawk!" I jumped to the task and was briskly rinsing a tile when Farad returned. He told me to follow him. Again I returned to the showers and this time he watched as I scrubbed everywhere except my crotch. When I was dry he led me to another small room. He said I had to "get ready for the party." Talk about making your blood freeze. I wanted to ask questions but was too scared. He strapped on the thick belt and bound my cock up tall against it, a little loop under the swollen, purplish head. My feet were lifted and long boots, quite light, were laced up halfway to my knees. Two little nip clamps were added as was a new cock ring. Farad circled me in a close inspection. I stared in the mirror in absolute, stunned horror. There I was, red-faced with my dark stubble, wet curly locks, hairy chest and armpits staring at me. The tiny silver nip clamps shined and my "uniform" was mesmerizing -- the thick collar, the cuffs, cock ring, thick belt and high, laced boots. My cock stood tall and enormous and my black bush I'd loved looked as if it were under a spotlight. I could not believe my own appearance. His hand kept rubbing my broiling tail as if he could not believe the heat being emitted. He gave me a gentle shove but when we'd gone a few yards he remembered and made me squat. I whispered a low "Please" and he stopped. I knew he was near, hovering, and finally he raised me to stand and put a finger on my lips telling me to be quiet. His hand touched my back and I marched into the dark. I heard a low whistle and a hand squeezed my arm. "Nice work." I shook at being observed like a fatted calf. "Come in." I was pressed downward and slowly waddled through the door. Like a physical blow Marcus's cutting voice rang out. "Well look who we have. It's our new woodshed pal." I swallowed, listening to the pair chuckle at my plight. "Come here, Jere, you gotta show us that nice, crimson fanny." I shuffled across the room and turned around for an inspection. "Whoa, man, you did a good job -- I'll tell Mr D to give you a bonus!" The new dose of stimulants surged through my system and my prick began its helpless rise. I was sniffling, trying to hold back tears as if anyone could keep their composure in this situation. I'd seen tapes of Nikos in tears and thought how stupid it was. "Nice boots you got there pal, Jere, but that dick hair needs a trim." Marcus was without mercy and Troy chimed in with his little gems of wisdom. "You are going to be the guest of honor at dinner -- all new slaves strut their stuff the first night." I exhaled a sharp breath and he continued. "So you just make sure you're up for it." All the men burst out laughing as I swallowed and looked down, totally mortified. I stared at the huge red knob of my upright member and waited. Troy stood up and said, "Time to meet the guests, stud." His voice dripped sarcasm and I took a deep breath. Farad added cuffs around my wrists and ankles and combed my thick, wavy hair. "All fixed up?" Farad answered "almost" and lifted my arms to apply a roll of deodorant before spraying me with cologne, incredibly degrading. Hands quickly oiled my nuts and my shiny, blistered bottom and even gave my full and stiffening cock a few strokes. I was shaking badly, unable to control the little shimmers that kept racing through my body. He pulled me out into the hall. "I'm not going to have any trouble with you, right?" He squeezed my rump and gave it a few taps and I thought I would die of shame. I shook my head and said, "No sir" shakily. "I hope not. You can just imagine what I'll do to you in front of those dinner guests." I answered with a tight "Yes sir" and it was then that I heard the music and general rumble of a crowd of people. I caught my breath in incredible consternation. I heard Mr Daniels and felt the pinprick on my shoulder, another injection. My owner spoke amiably with Troy, asking him how I did and when he saw my red bottom said, "Oh my" and gave it a friendly squeeze. He looked down. "God damn! That's a hardon to end all hardons! How big is that thing -- 10 inches?" He took hold of it and pulled me into the room. 1The smells, the sounds of wine poured and food sizzling and music and laughter - it was all so shattering. Suddenly it grew very quiet as he stood, my cock held tightly by his fist. "Folks, this is my newest slave, an upright young man." They howled and I stared ahead, unable to look at their faces, imagining the image I projected. I heard a lady's voice. "Is that thing real?" The crowd screamed as he pulled my cock down and held it. It was so stiff it literally ached and yet I stood docilely until it was released and sprang back, slapping my stomach with a loud splat. "What you think, ladies?" The females responded with loud applause, squeals and appreciative remarks. Some men nearby walked over to feel my ribs or arms, even my shoulders. Sumptuous food like I used to enjoy laws nearby along with the formerly outlawed liquor. And here I was, in the midst of this swirling mass of civility, wearing nothing but boots, a cock ring, nip clamps, collar and a smile. "You starting a new style, Daniels, letting him go all shaggy?" He grinned and snapped his fingers and a servant quickly set up two small stools. He introduced King Nikos to applause and after a little introduction during which my heart thumping madly he explained I'd made up a story about the kind. Therefore the king was going to give me a public trim. Nikos came over beside me, a gleam in his eye. Hands guided me to stand on the stools, legs wide, and then I laced my fingers behind my head and waited, quaking with terror. I heard the buzz of the clippers and his promise to give me a proper trim. The words made me literally moan with misery - how could it be worse? Troy walked up, now attired in a handsome black tuxedo. He grinned but I was focused on the electric clippers that drew close. In seconds Nikos was trimming my lush, thick black pubes back to an even half inch. Troy held my cock, moving it down and to the side for Nikos as he buzzed. I was sobbing yet my cock never wavered. He casually stroked the little rise of skin under the knob and my knees almost buckled at the sensation. "He's got hair growing up that baseball bat. I brought a razor." Mr D nodded and Nikos lwatched y as Troy slowly coated the shaving cream on my enormous shaft. I was leaking something awful. He held my nuts to keep me in place and slowly shaved the curls off the shaft. He wiped away the residue and I stared, startled at the size and frantic movement. "Who'd have thought you liked a nice shave so much?" Howls were followed by an order. "Now hop off and turn around. I need to give that hairy crack a much-needed haircut." Amid the loud screams I locked my hands behind my head and shut my eyes. I found myself stepping off and turning around, mounting the stools again. "Look, he's crying." "Well he is getting that hair cut down to size." I saw the curls on the floor and the neat little trim job he had done. I was shaking so bad I could hardly stand and when I did, peals of laughter rang out at the sight of my dark pink rump. Troy turned around and smugly confided that he'd had to give me a sound spanking this afternoon. The crowd loved it and two ladies volunteered to hold my cheeks wide apart. My sobs were audible but what could I do? The clippers again buzzed and I felt the cold metal against the sensitive inside walls. The women holding me were telling their friends how hot my bottom was. I heard a loud cheer and saw a huge metal wheel rolled onto the floor. In seconds I was bound, spread eagle onto the ring which could turn sideways or end to end -- quite ingenious I had to admit. It was tipped forward so that I my head was level with his chest. I heard the loud buzz and then my wavy, black locks were sheared. It didn't take long until I looked like the Marines -- a nice flat top. The noise level had risen and folks were pointing at my erection that seemed horse-like. Many shook Troy's hand and told him what a great overseer he was. I was game for any and all. I lost count of the number of hands that fondled my balls or stroked my organ. A thumb was shoved up my butt and my nipple clamps were removed for easier access. Ice was rubbed on my belly button and a group of guys got the idea of shoving a few cubes of ice up my rear end. One lady took pity on me and held up an appetizer (lobster, asparagus and garlic butter with a white wine reduction) for me and I gobbled it down. In between my bites I moaned as she lightly tugged on my hairy sac then scratched that hairy spot right between the legs. Two guys, obviously the joking type, tried to wipe an appetizer in my ass crack and make me eat it. I shook my head so violently I knocked the drink from one of them. He moved behind me and delivered a huge whack that made me scream and others turn. "You're gonna eat this little appetizer aren't you?" I nodded, broken, willing to do anything to stop it. He wiped it in my armpits and fed it to me, grinning at his ingenuity. "I think I hurt my palm I smacked that slave's ass so hard!" I sobbed, the experience devolving into nothing but sensation, humiliation and noise. I would be left alone for a few seconds then a chipper voice would ask if I liked my new trim job before rubbing my freshly shorn pubes. I could not help but squirm like a worm on a hook, unable to stand the myriad sensations that raced through me. I was dripping wet with sweat, panting harshly, hanging in silence when the servants entered to clean. Even they chuckled at my hard-on, giving it a tug as they walked by. A friendly servant gal offered me a left-over shot of champagne and another sneaked a shrimp to me. "So how was your first day, Jere?" It was Marcus looking spiffy in his tux. I'd seen him at the party, flirting with the ladies, regaling the men with stories of home and giving me a shit-eating grin whenever he passed. I did not answer him and he stepped up, a bottle of beer in his hand. "Let's see -- you got processed this morning, given a nice enema and then we had that pleasant auction. Let's forget about your little thrashing in the public parking lot but I did love that inspection by Ms D. You know what I liked best, Jere -- and it wasn't your well-deserved paddling." He paused and took a swig. "No, what I liked best was your little walk -- maybe I should patent that -- red butt and hardon required." His fingertips curled over my dick head, the tiny strokes continuing until I was bucking and thrusting like a fucking horse. He looked around and pulled out the little belt holding his cumberbum in place. He backed up and smacked my cock fiercely. I gasped and he smacked it again and again. It became even redder, angry looking as it flung off droplets, refusing to droop. He smacked the head and up and down the rigid shaft, at least 20 licks before he poured beer slowly over the upright tip and walked away. I was convulsing with the thought that I only 364 days to go.