Jack Hoff

If male on male sex stuff offends you - fuck off. If, by law, you're too young to have your sponge-like mind exposed to this BDSM-flavored tale - bye-bye. If you're an old fart who can still get it up - grab a tissue and hope for the best. For the rest of you, take the story's value commensurate with what you paid for it.

A big 'tanks' to masters JH and DH.

Please contact me at I appreciate reader feedback and comments.


Bobby was a little startled when he awoke. He had no idea where he was, what time it was, or the day of the week for that matter. It took a few moments to adjust his perception. 'Oh, yes,' he thought, seeing the bars of the cage, 'this is my fucking home for a while.'

What threw him off further were the bright lights illuminating the dungeon and his cage. 'Wonder what the lights are all about?' he queried. 'But first things, first.' Like most males, he had a woodie that needed draining. Parked in the corner was a non-descript coffee can. Although Marcus had not pointed it out, the can looked like the ideal vessel in which to piss.

"Good morning, slave," said a voice from a speaker in the ceiling. "I see you are stirring and almost awake. Marcus will be down in a few moments to prepare you for your first day. I advise you to also take care of a number two in the can. If you mess up during training, you'll lick up your accidents."

The basement dungeon became still and Bobby was more than curious about the monitoring system. Clearly there was video and audio that allowed the Master to watch and hear his moves. He decided to follow Master Trey's advice. He got up on his knees and placed the coffee can under his chute. After a few grunts and strained false starts, he was able to make a clean morning movement. He clinched his sphincter a few extra times to rid himself of any embarrassment. Bobby tensed when he heard the door unlock and open.

"Boy, this is day one," Marcus said as he entered the dungeon. This morning he was wearing running shorts and sandals. "I see that you have relieved yourself. That's one less thing we have to accomplish. Before Master joins us, you and I will go back to the wet area. You need to cleanse yourself again and I see some stubble of hair all around your body that needs shaving." Marcus unlocked the cage door and opened it. "Get that used coffee can, slave. Take it and let's go over to the wet area."

Bobby took the can in his hand and started crawling out of the cage. This was the first time that he thought twice to analyze the training slave. He figured Marcus to be in his late twenties and in excellent physical shape. Although his body was shaved, Marcus was allowed a short buzz haircut. 'Must be a status thing,' he considered.

"No, stop," Marcus barked. "The slave is not permitted to carry anything in its hand. The mouth is the only acceptable way of moving the object. Other than crawling and wiping, a slave's hand is only to be used to pleasure others. Got it?"

Bobby thought for a moment, considered his options and finally gripped the coffee can with his teeth. The combined odor of his recently expelled waste was hardly an appetite-builder. With the contents sloshing around, he followed Marcus out of the equipment room, down the corridor and into the wet area. He mentally calculated a scorecard and the payback tally. 'These fuckers are going to suffer, somehow,' he thought, with resolve.

"Dump it here," Marcus said, pointing to the commode. "You can wash out the can in the shower."

Bobby did as ordered. He was tempted to speak but remembered last night's instructions. Marcus stood aside and pointed to one of the douche hoses. Bobby slowly crawled to the hose and inserted it up his ass.

"Today, slave, I watch only. You will douche two times before you shower and shave. Let me know if you have any areas you can't reach. Master will be very angry if you miss any hair. I can assure you that it is unwise to make Master Trey angry. If the master gets pissed, I get pissed. Don't push me." Marcus said this almost as a matter of fact: nothing more and, certainly, nothing less.

For the next half-hour, Bobby and Marcus attended to proper slave grooming. After completing that task, Bobby was led back to the dungeon, empty can in mouth. This would be a routine that would be followed over the next two weeks. Promptly at 6:00 a.m., Master Trey lumbered down the stairway and entered. Bobby assumed the slave position.

"Well, slave, we are finally ready to begin the fun, hmmm? You are permitted to rise up on your knees and have a look at me. I will be the master of your universe while you are a guest in my home. Marcus will guide you on a strict set of instructions that I have worked out with your new master. If you are obedient and pass muster, Marcus will treat you to a rest period up in our back yard. We have a pool and a few male dogs. Just be warned; they love boy pussy almost as much as they love a girl dog. However, if you're into canine cock, that can be arranged." Master Trey let out a loud laugh as Bobby got on his knees.

Before Bobby was a short, small, tanned, sun-wrinkled man of 5' 4", in his 50's, wearing only a pair of nylon gym shorts and Nike trainers. He was immaculately groomed with a shaved head and highly buffed fingernails.  Each of Master Trey's large nipple nubs was pierced with small, ornamental rings. The only other visible piercing was a ring in his right earlobe. 'Fuck,' Bobby thought, 'Master Trey looks like a miniature, gay version of Mr. Clean.'

Any thoughts of Master Trey not being in charge of his destiny were rapidly forgotten as the master thoroughly explained Bobby's training program. A regimen was established that included general slave etiquette, oral sex technique, whippings, bondage, fucking styles and pain endurance. It would be repeated for the remainder of Bobby's stay.

Marcus used a clipboard to mark the slave's daily progress. He would use it to review the statistics with the master at the end each day. If results were not satisfactory, Master Trey would determine the appropriate punishment. The times that Bobby was taken to task in the basement dungeon, Marcus administered the punishments. On each occasion, he whispered encouragement in Bobby's ear. Bobby was ready to walk on an avenue of nails the evening when Marcus tenderly licked his ear before whipping him. 'Under a different set of circumstances,' he considered, 'I could love this guy.'

Bobby almost lost it one afternoon out by the pool when he was exposed to approximately 35 industrial-strength clothespins that a visiting master clipped to his body. The obvious places were targeted for pain: the nipples, toes, fingers and nut sac. However, by the time the master was finished, the slave's 'thing' looked like a porcupine in heat. Master Trey added a few more clothespins at the tip of the glans for further enjoyment before allowing his visitor an aggressive slave fucking. After the two masters retired to the house, Marcus took Bobby back to the dungeon, carefully removed the clothespins and turned off the lights. They were in total darkness except for one candle. Next he instructed Bobby to lie down on the fuck bench.

Over the next hour, Marcus gave his slave charge a tender massage with therapeutic oils. This happily ended for Bobby when he felt his prostate probed and rubbed until he expelled massive amounts of pent-up cum. The bonus surprise came when Marcus lapped up some seed and shared it orally with Bobby. The two got into a brief tongue-duel before Marcus ordered Bobby to the wet area.

The anal stretching machine was a threat looming in the distant future. Marcus only showed the slave all the possibilities of the machine that was designed to mold a boy's chute. It was a weird combination of a commode, inverted hydraulic plunger and food blender.  Bobby shuddered when the smallest attachment was referred to as the Jeff Stryker model. He was told that Master Scott would be visiting in two weeks to check the progress of training, determine the attitude of the slave and have some private time for master to slave discussions. It was implied that Master Scott might want to introduce Bobby to fisting at a later time. Bobby grimaced at the thought of Scott's fist finding its way up his rear cavity. Because of Master Scott's hesitation to fist his slave, the anal stretching machine was not used...yet. 'I hope they want to keep my butt somewhat tight for fucking,' Bobby thought, 'until I get out of this mess.'

In the afternoon, the master's 'jeweler' arrived to upgrade the ornamentation that Bobby had originally worn. First was a larger-gauge Prince Albert that was forged and fitted. Then, more prominent nipple rings were installed. Lastly, Bobby's balls were re-bound and weighted down for stretching. An additional ring was inserted in the skin surrounding his perineum. The real pain came when the tongue was pierced to handle a large ball bearing. He was told that Master Scott thought that the ball bearing would allow the slave to perform oral sex better. 'Christ,' Bobby thought, 'now I'm being fitted with metal in my mouth to give my brother a better blowjob? Shiiit.'

During the training, Bobby experienced a variety of surprises. Various friends of Master Trey stopped over to view the new slave in the afternoon when his large butt plug was removed outside by the pool. Several took advantage of an open hole to fuck or piss in while he was on submissive slave display. Others wanted to experience their cock being manipulated by the ball bearing-pierced tongue.

Through the entire period, Marcus was in charge of feeding the slave. Bobby never knew what to expect in his dog bowl. Most of the time he was fed nutritional pellets. However, occasionally Marcus would cut up leftovers from a previous meal of the Master's and serve them at room temperature. When Marcus was in a playful mood, he used his hands to feed the appreciative slave. After one particularly strenuous afternoon, he said quietly, "Hang in there, Bobby. I'm rooting for you." Marcus smiled when Bobby picked up on the use of his name...the first time since they had met.

After a strenuous early afternoon jog around the back yard at the end of the two-week time table, Marcus said, "Today we will shower and shave after the pool time. Your master will be visiting you around 6:00 p.m." They were under a large oak tree taking advantage of the shade.

Bobby coughed and sputtered out saliva at the news. He was dying to talk but knew it wasn't allowed. His mixed emotions ran threw his body. Involuntarily, he started to cry. The tears masked the anger he felt. 'Master Scott, indeed,' he thought, 'will not be happy with my scorebook of errors.'

"Oh, how tender. Tears of joy to see your master," Marcus said with a detached concern. "The love you can show to Master will make the initial meeting so much easier." He stroked the back of Bobby's head and concluded, "I know Master Scott is looking forward to seeing you. I think you also know that I've grown quite fond of you and want you to succeed. Make it work."

Bobby bowed lower and nodded that he understood the comment. Knowing that there were no cameras focused in that area, he put his hand on his heart, looked directly into Marcus's eyes, winked and brought his hand away towards Marcus. He then lowered his head back to position.

"You just took a big chance and I understand what you are communicating. If you were just another slave, I would have your balls in a vise for that gesture. However, I secretly accept your silent statement. Things are complicated and your new master will be seeing you for the first time. Let's not confuse issues right now. There'll be plenty of time to sort things out. Right now, jump in the pool and complete the afternoon training. I want to get you properly groomed for your reunion with Master Scott."

'Reunion?' Bobby thought, with sarcasm, 'I can hardly wait.' While Bobby moved over to the pool for swimming exercises, he decided to put on his game face. 'I gotta get back to my town home.' Bobby did not think of the home as 'ours'. "Hell will freeze over before I yield mentally to Scott being the owner of my home,' he concluded.

He swam his laps and performed pushups for his trainer. As a reward for his efforts, Marcus permitted Bobby to lie in the sun for 45 minutes. He had seen his reflection in a window and knew that Master Trey and Marcus's training program had yielded results more than a tan. In addition to being much wiser in the ways of a slave pleasing a master, Bobby's body tone was in the best shape in years. 'A six pack?' he thought, 'I gotta fuckin' eight pack.' His taut, muscular body was sure to get Master Scott's attention.

Down in the wet area, Bobby went about the final grooming process. Marcus had taken out all of Bobby's body ornaments and polished the stainless steel before replacing them. Douching, showering, shaving and showering again were augmented by a manicure and pedicure. The last touch was a light massage with body lotion.

"Time to stage yourself for the meeting," Marcus said quietly. They went back to the dungeon and stopped before the spotlight-bathed fuck bench. "Mount the bench and get on your back. By the way, tonight it is permissible to look at Master Scott."

Bobby stared at the bench and looked up at Marcus. Marcus silently nodded and helped Bobby up. As he had done many times in Georgia, Bobby lay down on the wide, padded bench and allowed his wrists to be cuffed and locked to cleats on the floor at the end of the bench. Marcus next locked Bobby's ankles to metal cuffs that were attached to chains that went up to a ceiling pulley system. The next act was to fasten a leather strap around Bobby's chest just below his nipples. Bobby noticed for the first time a small table draped with linen and a side chair. On the table were a lighted candle, a balloon wine glass and a bottle of French wine.

"Finally, boy, is the 'slavesicle'." Marcus retrieved from the under-counter freezer a long, frozen tube on a skewer. 'I'm going to raise your legs slightly." He switched on a small motor in the ceiling and the chains attached to Bobby's ankles started pulling his legs upwards. When the legs were at a 45-degree angle, the motor was stopped. Marcus smiled and slowly inserted the frozen tube - a compound of Crisco and water - up Bobby's chute.

'Oh, fuck,' Bobby thought as the frozen mass pushed through his ass-lips and up his hole. The next sensation was the music that started slowly drifting through the room. He was sure that Marcus had selected Ravel's Bolero on purpose. Bobby slowly turned his head to catch the training slave immediately kneel and assume the slave position. 'As they used to say at the Lakers games: Showtime.' He could sense that the moment had come. Scott had arrived.

When Bobby saw Scott, he couldn't believe that this was the same man that he knew as his brother. Gone were the sloppy sweatshirts and baggy jeans. He was dressed in what used to be Bobby's clothes. Scott made eye contact and had the most warm, inviting smile on his face. He slowly walked from one end of the bench to the other, visually inspecting every square inch of Bobby's body. Bobby returned the smile while he seethed inside. 'That fucker is going to pay when the time is right,' he thought.

Scott sat down on the side chair and nodded to Marcus. On cue, Marcus rose and went to the small table and poured red wine into the glass. Scott took the glass, silently toasted in salute to Bobby and took a sip. With his other hand, he started to explore his new slave's body. He smiled as his hand played with the nipple rings before moving over the washboard stomach. The hand next ventured south to the base of Bobby's growing cock.

"Well, boy, this is something I remember." Scott's fingers zeroed in on the tip and the Prince Albert. At this point, Bobby's 'thing' was hard and oozing pre-cum. Scott swiped a finger on the piss slit to retrieve a sample of slave snot. He brought the moistened finger to his mouth and licked it. "All in the family...sort of," he said with a chuckle.

Bobby, hatred aside, couldn't help but be aroused. In fact, he felt that his throbbing erection probably masked his real feelings...feelings that were interrupted when Marcus rolled in a plasma screen TV to the end of the bench so that Bobby could see it between his legs.

"Before we get going, could I have a beer, instead?" Scott asked. "No glass. And maybe some Dixie Chicks instead of that classic crap."

"Yes, Sir, immediately." Marcus, stone-faced, removed the Lafitte-Rothschild and the wine glass. Silence prevailed until a cold bottle of Coors was placed on the table along with some food and the twang of country and western music filled the dungeon.

"Good." Scott took a long pull from the bottle and sighed when he placed the bottle back on the table. "Let's show my slave the progress of his new life." The TV came to life and suddenly there was Bobby in the Georgia camp.

Over the next half-hour, Bobby watched the video chronicle of his capture and initial training. While Marcus seemed to be engrossed in the documentary, Scott was more interested in eating the hot hors d'oeuvres that Marcus had brought with the beer. Bobby smiled with a fake contentment as he watched his body being raped and manhandled. 'This fucker hasn't even watched a single frame,' he thought as the screen transitioned to his last two weeks in the dungeon. Finally the screen went blank and the music started.

"Well, booby, that's your recent history in a nutshell. I'm not sure who all will eventually see this video. We'll talk about that another time. Tonight I want to bond with you in a special way. As brothers we never had a good relationship. I hope, as your master, you'll figure out that I do love you in my own special way. Oh, yes, I hope you paid attention to my nickname for you. Booby is something I used to call you when I was a little kid. Roles seem to be reversed but I still like that name for you. It's all part of our life fantasy."

Although silently cringing internally, Bobby smiled and nodded at Scott. 'Booby?' he thought, I don't remember that. Crap. And here's this fantasy business again.'

Bobby watched as Scott slowly stripped off the clothes formerly known as Bobby's wardrobe. 'Fuck,' Bobby observed, 'he's even wearing my underwear.'  Bobby admired his brother's nude body. He had forgotten how much alike they were. The natural, trim physique augmented by an ample, swinging, circumcised cock. Scott's pubic patch was neatly trimmed and the nut sac was freshly shaved.

"This is your night, and I hope you will enjoy it as much as I intend to," Scott said in a soft voice. "Tonight we bond, master to slave. From this day forward, our lives will forever be changed." He pulled out the skewer that had held the frozen Crisco tube and tossed it aside. "Nice, warm and slick," he said as he inserted two fingers. "Oh, yeah, you're good and loose." He regrouped and stuck in all four fingers and slowly burrowed in.

"Mmmm," Bobby uttered when Scott found his prostate. 'This shithead better not go any further than his second knuckles,' he thought, 'although there's not much I can do about it...yet.' Under normal circumstances, he judged that having intimate sex with his brother would be pretty cool. 'Why did it have to come to this?'

"Booby's definitely goin' to be my special name for you, slave. Tonight you're going to take my seed." Scott moved up and planted a passionate kiss on his brother's lips. He encouraged tongue swapping and gave Bobby a strong embrace.

"Oh, Master, fuck me and give me your seed," Bobby moaned. He looked over to Marcus and quietly rolled his eyes. Bobby knew that Marcus got the message. 'Best keep my cool and figure things out,' he decided.

"Take me in your mouth. I want to feel the steel in your tongue give me pleasure." The master crawled up, straddled Bobby's torso and eased the hard master cock into the slave's mouth. "Yes, take it all the way." Scott slammed his large erection into Bobby and started pumping. "Fuck, that bearing is just right," he yelled. "But let's get to the heart of the matter." He got off Bobby's chest and motioned Marcus to raise the slave's legs further in the air.

"Uhhh," Bobby groaned when the chains pulled up his legs. 'Let's get this mercy-fuck out of the way,' he thought. 'I hope my high school acting classes pay off.'

"Booby, while we are reuniting, you may say anything in this moment of love. Later, we will talk." Scott aimed his large cock into the slightly puffy hole and started fucking as if his dick would drop off at midnight.

"Oh, my bro...Sir, shit...this is fantastic, oh, oh...fuck," yelled Bobby.

"Your slave body is fantastic,, I can't believe we are last. I do love you, you little shit...oh, oh..." Scott continued to slam into his brother with abandon.

"Nail me, pound me...oh, master...I'm cumming."

"Shoot it slave, treat yourself...Christ, my seed is entering you..." Scott kept his engorged cock in Bobby's anal canal as he shot load after load. "Man, I haven't cum this much since we were teenagers," he said softly. 'Marcus, lower booby's legs."

"Master Scott, that was very special," Bobby said breathlessly. 'Special, that is, until I find the right place to rectify this abortion.' He heard a small 'whirl' and felt his legs lowered until his feet were touching the ground.

After the strenuous fuck, Scott eased up and lay down on top of Bobby. His cock was still embedded in Bobby's ass. They slowly shifted so that Scott was lying on his side and looking into Bobby's eyes. "We need to talk," he said. "But first, I need a shower. Marcus," Scott yelled as he extricated himself from Bobby's body.

"Yes, Sir," Marcus said, moving up to the bench.

"Let's go to the wet area. I need to get cleaned up."

"Shall we bring the slave?" Marcus asked.

"Naw, he'll be just fine here. I think he's enjoying my seed up his wazoo," Scott said with a laugh. "It's something he needs to get used to."

The men left Bobby alone while they went to take a shower. It was a time for him to take inventory of what had taken place. Regardless of the future, it was obvious that Scott regarded him as a possession. He was a fuck toy to be abused when needed. Bobby also sensed that Scott regarded all the bank accounts and stock portfolio his property now, along with the house and car. 'Hmm,' he wondered, 'was the Mercedes back in Chicago? Was that now a part of Scott's possessions?"

"That was delicious, Marcus. I needed the shower," Scott said as the two men returned to the dungeon. Scott was wearing a terry robe and Marcus was nude. "Would you undo my booby's ankles? We need to share a little truth time. I'd just as soon as do it while he is vertical."

"Immediately, Master." Marcus unlocked the ankle cuffs. Next he undid the manacles around the wrists.

Bobby slowly rose from the fuck bench, rubbing his wrists and wiggling his toes. 'Truth time?' he wondered. He got down on the floor and assumed the slave rest position.

"Sit up," Scott suggested in a warm tone. "I think we need to face each other for the next part of our bonding."

Bobby moved back and sat on his buns as he crossed his legs. He looked into Scott's eyes and tried to detect what was going on behind the fašade. The only thing he could read was greed, power and manipulation. 'Little brother, I've got you made,' he decided. 'You're lunchmeat.'

"I'm so pleased that we are finally able to get together. I'm also delighted at the progress you've made here. Master Trey tells me that you have become the model slave trainee. That's good 'cause our future - yours, really - depends on your ability to understand the new life that has been chosen for you. By the way, you may ask questions at any time." Scott stopped talking and looked at Bobby.

"Um, Sir, I know it's a new life for me and I really do look forward to serving you. When will we be going home? We need to talk about this fantasy stuff."

"Home. I like that. My home you are very familiar with. As Master Trey may have told you, I've had special metal cleat fittings embedded in the walls and ceilings so that you will be secure. Later, there will be a few other modifications to my town house. But basically, as soon as Master Trey gives me the green light, I'm ready to bring you home. My guess is another week." Scott ignored any mention of 'fantasy'.

"Sir, what's going to happen to my job, my are you going to explain to our parents this new situation?" Bobby was genuinely curious about the logistics of this change.

"Good questions, booby. I've already contacted your job and told the bosses that you had an accident in Portugal and didn't know when you'd be back. Actually, the rest of this I haven't thought out. Most of your friends think you're still on vacation. But then you always worked so hard that you really don't have that many close friends, do you?" Scott added with a chuckle.

"Um, just guys at work and my jock buddies. So my role in your life, Sir, is to what?"

"Please me. Pleasure me. You will be home cleaning while I'm at work. Certain nights there will be little private parties where we have fun sharing the slaves. On weekends, I generally like to hang out at Rafters, a private leather bar on Halsted. Again, you will be with me to get to know my friends...very well."

"Sir, let me say this: whatever our differences have been in the past, I want to put this behind us." Bobby thought he'd offer an olive branch and create a little deceptive smoke.

"Put this behind us? Are you fucking mad, asshole," Scott yelled. He raised his hand and broadly struck Bobby in the face with a strong back swing. "Don't you understand that your treatment of me when we were kids is the reason we're in this position?" Scott stood up and kicked Bobby in the stomach. "You don't remember when you used to force me to suck you off, you little ingrate," Scott screamed.

"Ohhh," groaned Bobby as he held himself in a ball, grimacing in pain. 'That cocksucker,' he thought as bolts of hurt shot across his body and face, 'this has just begun.'

"Sir, could I suggest we change the subject," Marcus said, interceding in the sudden flare between two family members. "Perhaps it's time to end the meeting?" He was behind Scott, massaging his shoulders and neck.

"Yes, you're right." Scott kneeled down and started to gently stroke Bobby's back. "Baby, I'm sorry. You made me mad. I think that it's time for me to get dressed and go home. I'll be back this weekend. Perhaps we can talk outside by the pool?" He leaned over and kissed Bobby's forehead before getting up to get dressed.

", Sir. We need to talk further," Bobby answered. "Thank you, Sir." He resumed the slave position.

"Marcus, thank you for a perfectly lovely evening. Take care of my boy." Scott continued to dress and make haste.

"You've got a good slave, Sir. He'll do you proud at the gatherings," Marcus replied half-convincingly.

"Good night. Tell Master Trey that I'm very proud at what you two have accomplished with my boy." He kissed Marcus on the cheek and immediately left the dungeon.

"Well, that was a real eye-opener. Your master has some real issues that you best not stir," Marcus said a little sadly.

'Issues?' Bobby thought. 'That's the least of his worries."