The Dean
Max H. lilperv76@yahoo.com
Chapter 2
This story involves sex between guys. If you shouldn't be reading such things, move on.
The characters in this fantasy may not always practice safe sex. In the world we live in everyone should practice safe sex.
It's okay to print this story out or save it to disc, but it remains my property. Don't transfer it to another website or archive without my permission
This story is for Tom W.
"Silence!" Conti hissed at his new slave. "You will speak only when given permission or asked a direct question."
"You bastard! What have you done to my son? Matt, are you all right?"
Conti gestured to Ben and Frank, who had come into the room. The two men bent the former dean over and told him to grab his ankles. They stood on either side of him, each with a hand on his shoulders to keep him from standing up straight. Lichfield felt himself flush with anger and shame as he was held there naked, his anus showing, in the presence of his son.
"Matt, I think I'll let you do the honors. I suggest you use the fraternity paddle. I rather enjoy the, uh, academic connection." He chuckled. A beat later, Ben and Frank laughed.
"Yes, master," the young man said. He went to a pegboard and removed a conventional-looking paddle. Positioning himself behind the new slave, showing no awareness of the fact that it was his father, he looked to Conti for further instructions.
"Let's start with 25. Do not be swayed by his cries. If you hesitate, you will receive double the number of strokes. Do you understand?"
"Yes, master."
"Very well, then. Begin."
The slave, whose rump was still tender from the belting he'd received the previous day, was crying and trying very hard not to beg them to stop. After 25 painful swats, he was allowed to stand upright.
"Now," Conti said in his usual quiet voice, "let's hope you've learned a lesson. You don't speak unless given permission or asked a question. Nod your head if you understand."
The former dean, now slave, nodded his head.
Conti turned to the other slave. "Thank you Matt. You may go into the bathroom and get ready."
"Yes, master," slave Matt said. He turned and left the room.
Frank and Ben stood on either side of the new slave, who had tears of pain and humiliation running down his face.
"You aren't entitled to any explanations, but I'm going to give you one in this case. We picked your son up on his campus two weeks ago. I have nothing against the boy, but I thought he might be useful for what I have in mind for you. He turned out to be much more compliant than I would have thought. That's why he's been allowed to keep his name."
Conti studied the new slave's face for a moment. His own face showed a faint smile. "I have decided on a name for you. From now on, you're slave Turd."
Turd was careful not to let his face register any emotion, for he didn't want any further whipping.
"Oh, and by the way, Matt is a very responsive sex partner. He knows how to make his master very happy. He'll be a good teacher for you."
One could see Turd's jaws clenching, but he didn't say anything.
"Tell me, Turd, do you know what rimming is?"
"No, master."
Conti smiled slightly. "Well, you'll be learning. Once you've practiced on Matt and then Ben and Frank, you'll have your chance to show me how much you've learned. You do know what anal intercourse is, I presume."
Turd's jaws clenched first, but he said only "Yes, master."
"Your son will instruct you in how to serve me with your ass. After, of course, you earn that privilege by becoming an enthusiastic bottom boy. I'm sure Frank and Ben will enjoy seeing how much Matt has taught you."
Conti looked at Frank and then in the direction Matt had gone a few moments ago. Frank nodded and left. Soon he and Matt were back.
"Turd, you are to go with slave Matt. You are not to attempt to talk with him. If you do, you'll both be punished. You are to do exactly as he says. The boys will be right outside the door, and if Matt needs help with you, he has only to ask."
Matt turned and walked back toward the bathroom. Turd followed him. They went into the large bathroom and closed the door.
As soon as the door was closed, Turd whispered, "Matt, I . . ."
Matt put his finger to his lips and nodded his head toward a surveillance camera in a corner of the room. "You are not to speak, Turd. Put the cover down on the toilet and sit there."
When Turd had done as he was told, his son produced a pair of clippers and began to remove the hair on his head. Then he produced a can of shaving foam and a safety razor and shaved the slave's head. He used the clippers and the razor to remove the slave's eyebrows. Then, requiring the slave to stand, he removed all the hair from his body. The slave actually blushed when he was required to bend over and pull his ass cheeks apart so his son could shave his crack. Shaking from fear and embarrassment, he endured having his balls shaven. He realized that Conti was systematically robbing him of his personhood, his self. What was particularly frightening was that "the Master" seemed to be succeeding. Turd told himself he'd have to try very hard to retain his sense of who he really was.
"Now, get in the shower so we can rinse off all the loose hair."
The shower was freezing cold. "Master sees no reason why we should enjoy the shower. It's merely to get us clean." Turd was shivering by the time he got out. Matt handed him a towel and told him to dry himself and then sit back on the toilet lid. As he did so, he saw himself in the mirror. He was appalled by what he saw. His hairless body looked like that of a boy. There was a certain reptilian look about his eyebrow-less face.
When Matt stood beside him, the father was amazed at how similar they were. Although the boy was perhaps an inch taller, without hair the difference in their ages was less apparent and they looked like brothers. Except that Turd's nipples didn't have gold rings in them and he wasn't wearing a collar.
Turd had been told by Matt that the proper way for a slave to stand before his master was with his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes on the floor. When he was led back to the master, he was so humiliated that he didn't want to look the man in the eye. He stood before him, head bowed.
"Look at me, slave."
Turd looked up. Conti wasn't smiling, but he didn't seem unhappy.
"Turn around slowly."
Turd did as commanded.
"Wonderful. A matched set! You've done a good job, Matt. I can't wait to take him out in public, but you have lots of work to do before then."
"Thank you, master," Matt said, still looking at the floor.
"Turd, step forward."
Turd took one step to the front, still keeping his eyes on the floor.
"I have something for you." Conti fastened a collar around Turd's neck. "It says, `Turd - Conti property.' Except for the names it's identical to the one Matt's wearing. Do you have anything to say to me?"
At first Turd couldn't think of anything. Then he realized what was expected of him.
"Thank you for the collar, master."
"Ah, you're learning. You may make a decent slave yet. Now, Matt, it's time for Turd to have his breakfast, and then you can show him the workout room. We'll see to his nipples this afternoon."
Turd cringed when he heard that last comment. Before he had time to worry much about it, however, Conti left. Matt took him to the bathroom, told him to do his business if he had to, and locked him in. He came back in ten minutes and asked Turd if he'd washed his hands. It was particularly humiliating. Turd had asked Matt that many times when the boy was growing up. Now he was being treated like the child.
After the bathroom chores, Turd was taken to a kitchen, where Matt set out glasses of orange juice and two capsules. When Turd looked mistrustfully at the capsule, Matt said, "It's okay. Just vitamins. Master wants us to be healthy." Then they each ate a bowl of cereal.
After they had finished their breakfast Matt took him down a hallway into a room that had all the equipment one would expect to find in a professional gym.
Turd, who'd always taken good care of his body and was thus no stranger to the equipment, felt a moment of happiness for the first time since his capture. He thought in this room perhaps he could work out some of the rage and despair he was feeling.
"We are expected to spend two hours a day here," Matt said. "Master hasn't given me a regimen for you yet, so let's just use machines that will work out various parts of our bodies. I'll work with you today. In the future, I'll be doing my routines, and you'll be doing whatever it is Master wants you to do."
"Matt – "
Turd was slapped across the face with the back of Matt's hand.
"I'm not your Master, but I'm in charge of you, slave. You will call me Sir. And you must learn that you are not to speak without permission. Now, let's get at the free weights for a while. Your upper body could use some work. All that running has your legs in good shape, but the rest of you is showing its age. Master will want to correct that. He wants to be proud of you when he takes you out in public."
Turd wondered how the public would be able to tell how well developed his body was, but he knew not to say anything.
Being a slave was still nearly incomprehensible to the former dean. There weren't any slaves in 2005. Everyone knew that. Oh, he understood that there were some gay types who were submissive by nature and voluntarily served as "slaves" to more dominant gay males. But slaves in involuntary servitude? Impossible! Yet here he was. And try as he might, he couldn't think of any way to escape. And since he'd signed the letter of resignation to be sent to the president of the university, he realized that no one would be looking for him. Matthew would have been his only hope, and Matthew was here with him. Training him to be a better slave for the bastard Conti. His "Master." He felt sick.
After their workout, Matt took Turd back to the kitchen. There the son showed his father how to make a salad and sandwiches using ingredients in the large refrigerator there. They sat at a big wooden table to eat. Matt said for lunch they were allowed to drink only water.
Turd wanted to ask Matt many things. He wanted to apologize for treating him so badly. But he knew that he'd be punished if he said anything without being given to speak. Nevertheless, he felt a bit less tense. He was at least allowed real food and the companionship of his son. It felt strange to be sitting there naked across from his naked son, but he was less angry, less terrified than he had been before.
Matt took him to the bathroom after their meal, gave him a toothbrush, and told him to brush his teeth and to use the toilet if he needed to.
After the bathroom visit, Turd was taken back into the big room where he'd been several times before. He was told to sit on an ordinary kitchen stool. His feet were fastened to the legs of the stool, and his hands were handcuffed behind him. Matt stood behind him with his hands on his shoulders. Frank came in with a man Turd hadn't seen before.
"Okay," Frank said, grinning, "time to get those titties taken care of." He nodded to the stranger, who was a small, wiry man of about the former dean's age. He carried a satchel like an old fashioned doctor's bag.
Turd had heard that ear piercing didn't hurt. He was pretty sure getting his nipples pierced was going to hurt. They'd always been sensitive, as his late wife had demonstrated often enough. The man didn't apply any anesthetic. He simply squeezed the left nipple and jammed a large needle through it.
Turd screamed in pain. He screamed again when the man swabbed the bleeding nipple with a cotton ball soaked in alcohol.
"Shut the fuck up, Turd," Frank said, "or I'll have to gag you."
Knowing how much the first piercing had hurt, Turd was frantic when he saw the man move toward his right nipple. Knowing he couldn't scream made the fear even worse.
"Please," he said.
"Okay, that's it! Matt, go get the duct tape on the shelf over there and tape his mouth shut."
"Yes, sir," Matt said. He got the duct tape and applied a strip to Turd's mouth. Then he put his hands once more on Turd's shoulders to keep him from standing.
Frank nodded to the man, who repeated the procedure. Again Turd screamed, but the noise was muffled by the tape over his mouth.
After dabbing up the blood for a minute or so, the man produced two gold hoops and inserted one into each nipple, locking them in place. He looked at Matt. "He'll need to put some of this on them each night for a week to prevent infection. You remember the drill?" He handed Matt a small plastic bottle.
Matt took it and said, "Thank you, sir."
Turd's handcuffs were removed and his ankles unshackled from the stool he'd been sitting on and the tape was ripped from his mouth. As he stood up, and whenever he moved after that, his nipples smarted from the movement of the rings.
When the stool was removed, Conti came back into the room. He came over to Turd and flicked each ring with his finger. Although his body jerked from the pain, Turd kept his eyes down and uttered no sound.
"Look at me, Turd," the master said in his quiet voice.
Turd looked into Conti's face.
"You should see yourself. You and your son are here as my slaves, naked, hairless, wearing collars that indicate you are my property, and with rings through your nipples. That's a far cry from the arrogant dean you were just a few days ago. Isn't it?"
Turd continued to look into his master's face but said nothing.
When Conti flicked both nipple rings, Turd gasped with the pain.
"Answer me when I speak to you." His voice was ominously soft.
"Yes, Master, it is."
Conti smiled. "You look the part. It will be a while before you completely understand your role. I think it's time for more training. Kneel, slave. Matt, don't go. Just stand aside until you are needed."
"Yes, Master," Matt said, moving from the center of the room. He stood with his head down.
"You are to watch this, Matt. The training of this slave will be primarily your responsibility."
"Yes, Master." Matt watched what happened after that carefully.
Ben came into the room and stood beside Frank.
"Let's give the slave some more practice sucking cock. Frankie, you first."
"Sure, boss," Frank said, grinning. He unzipped his trousers and pulled out his semi-hard cock. "Come and get it, Turd."
The new slave knee-walked over to where Frank was standing. He'd been forced to suck off Conti's two henchmen the day before, so the experience wasn't totally new, but the humiliation was greater than ever. Here were two louts, muscle for his new master, men of no academic or professional accomplishment, and he had to kneel before them, all his hair shaven off, rings in his nipples, and take their penises in his mouth, perform fellatio on them. And do it in front of his son! He blushed all over to think what the members of the faculty would say if they could see him. Some of them would probably be amused. He hoped others would be shocked, or even sympathetic. The shame was intensified by his mortification at doing this in front of his only son.
"Okay, Turd, you know what feels good. Teeth don't feel good. Use your tongue," Frank said.
As Frank coached him and the other three men watched, Turd learned to be a cocksucker. And he was reminded often by Frank what he had become.
After a while, Frank became impatient. He grabbed Turd by the ears and pulled his shaven head back and forth over his swollen rod. "Yeah, that's it, cocksucker! Take my cock in your pussy mouth!" When Frank shoved his dick into Turd's throat, the slave gagged. "Come on, son of a bitch, breathe when my cock isn't in your throat so you won't pass out. If you can't do that, then you'll just have to pass out and I'll fuck your mouth and throat anyway." Turd gradually learned, though not before he found himself dizzy and on the verge of fainting several times.
After what seemed like a very long time, the slave felt the man towering over him stiffen. "Oh, yeah, pussymouth, here it comes. Take my load!"
Whereas the day before, the men had shot their loads on his face and hair for the pictures they wanted to take, this time Frank's cum filled the slave's mouth. "Swallow it, bitch."
When the slave had swallowed the henchman's spunk, he thought he might be allowed to rest, but Ben was there immediately to stick his rigid penis in the slave's mouth. The same sort of scene followed, with the standing man calling the slave names as he face-fucked him. Again, he was forced to deep throat the man, and again he had to swallow the man's sperm.
Then Conti said, "Now, Matt, forget that this slave was once your father. He is simply a new slave you must help train. You've been doing a fine job so far. Don't let up, or you'll be punished."
"Yes, Master. Thank you Master," Matt said. He stepped up to the kneeling slave. His cock was as hard as those of the two previous men, Turd noticed. He wondered how his son could have an erection when he was about to be sucked off by his father. He wasn't given time to wonder for long, however, because Matt reached down and squeezed his nostrils closed. When Turd opened his mouth to breathe, Matt stuck his dick into the slave's mouth. "You know what to do, Turd. By now you should be getting the hang of it. Your job is to give me as much pleasure as you can. I'm going to let you try to do that. If you don't, then I'll fuck your face like the Sirs did."
Conti smiled slightly and nodded in approval of what his younger slave had said.
Remembering his instructions, Sam took his son's balls in one hand and began to fondle them. He held the boy's dick in the other and pumped it slightly before he began to lick its head. Matt closed his eyes and tilted his head back for a moment. Then, apparently remembering his role, he looked back down at the kneeling slave.
"He seems to be learning," Conti said.
Matt had to struggle not to moan or close his eyes as Turd worked to give the young man pleasure. He looked at Conti and asked, "Master, may I?"
"Yes, Matt, you may come in the slave's mouth. You've earned it. As for you, Turd, I want you to remember that this is your son whose dick is in your mouth, whose seed you're going to swallow. Neither of you would be here if you weren't such an inflexible, arrogant son of a bitch."
Turd pulled away from his task long enough to say, "Yes, Master." Then he looked up briefly at Matt and admired what a fine body the boy had. Up to that point, he'd been doing what he'd been told because he had no choice, and it had all been distasteful to him. He was appalled to discover that he wanted to make Matt feel good, that he wanted to give him as much pleasure as possible, perhaps as a kind of atonement. It was, after all, his fault the boy was here. Conti didn't have anything against Matt. He was just using the boy to get back at the father. As he licked and sucked Matt's cock, taking time occasionally to lick his balls, Turd found that, as gross as these acts seemed at first, it wasn't really unpleasant at all. And the young slave, who couldn't have much pleasure in his life, seemed to be enjoying the oral and lingual ministrations. And then, to his shock, Turd discovered that, for the first time since he'd been captured, he was getting an erection.
Matt hadn't been allowed to ejaculate for several days, so he soon flooded Turd's mouth and throat with cum. So much, in fact, that it leaked out both sides of the kneeling slave's mouth. Matt took his fingers, wiped up the dribbling cum, and offered the fingers to Turd, who duly licked them clean.
"From dean to cocksucker. Life is unpredictable, isn't it Turd?"
Still kneeling, the slave quickly swallowed the remaining cum in his mouth. "Yes, Master."
Conti told Matt to take Turd upstairs and show him what household chores they were responsible for. The two slaves spent the rest of the afternoon on the upper level, where Turd learned what was required about dusting vacuuming, cleaning windows, and general housekeeping chores.
Matt also explained that there was a cook, Fritz, who fixed meals for the Master and the rest of the staff, including Ben and Frank. Usually the slaves were allowed to have some of the same dinner, but of course they had to eat in the kitchen. On occasions when Fritz had the evening off, the slaves were to fix themselves sandwiches or soup. They were also responsible for fixing their own breakfasts and lunches. Frank or Ben would usually check to see that they weren't eating anything beyond the simple fare that was prescribed for them. Except, of course, when they got to share the suppers Fritz fixed. Those were usually gourmet meals.
Turd was relieved to know that they didn't plan to keep him on a diet of the dog biscuits they'd fed him when he first arrived. They were, he assumed, part of the shock treatment, designed to impress on him his slave status.
After dinner that evening, Matt told Turd to brush his teeth and use the bathroom if he needed to. When Turd was finished, Matt used the bathroom. Then he took Turd back to the large room in the basement. Conti and his two henchmen were there.
"Matt, have you explained to Turd what happens next."
"No, Master."
"No problem. I didn't tell you to." He turned to Turd. "Matt gets 25 swats with the paddle every evening. That is just to remind him of his status as a slave. I think you'll get 35 tonight, just to help you understand your place here. Now that there are two of you, you'll administer these paddlings to each other each evening after dinner. Turd, get the paddle from the wall over there."
"Yes, Master." Turd got the paddle that had been used on him previously. He returned to where Conti was standing and offered him the paddle.
"No, Turd," Conti said quietly. "You will paddle Matt. He will paddle you. And you both know the punishment if I think you aren't doing it with enough force. Matt, in position!"
The younger slave bent over and grabbed his ankles.
"Now, Turd, 25 swats. And no holding back."
"Yes, Master."
Although he had qualms about doing this to his son, Turd was also mindful that he'd receive double his required number if Conti wasn't satisfied with how hard he hit the boy. So he gave Matt 25 very hard swats with the paddle. He was impressed that Matt, although red in the face, didn't cry out or even shed tears. When he was finished, he held the paddle in his hands and looked at the floor.
"Very good, Turd. I think Matt has been reminded of his status. Haven't you, Matt?"
"Yes, Master." There were tears in the boy's eyes as he took the paddle from Turd.
"Now, Turd, assume the same position."
Turd was apprehensive, but he merely said, "Yes, Master."
He assumed the position.
By the time he'd received 25 blows, he was sobbing, his face streaked with tears. He thought he couldn't possibly stand the last ten, but of course he did. He was crying openly by the time the last swat fell. He felt ashamed that he'd not been as stoic as his son, but his ass was on fire. And the humiliation of being paddled by his son in front of these other men, of being naked and shaved, of being nothing more than a slave – all that added to his shame and his pain.
"I think such reminders are beneficial, don't you, Matt?"
"Yes, Master."
"Good boy. Now take Turd to the bedroom and continue with his training. You have my permission to come again. I know at your age that won't be a problem."
"Yes, Master. Thank you, Master."
"And Turd!"
"Yes, Master?"
"Matt is going to take your cherry. You are going to become what is crudely called a pussyboy. Eventually, after you have learned your lessons, I'll test you to see how well you can please a man with your ass. Or, perhaps I should say, your cunt. And you must cooperate fully with Matt. Someone will be watching you on the security cameras at all times. Is that understood?"
Turd, looking at the floor, uttered a resigned, "Yes, Master."
"While Matt is fucking you, I want you to remember something."
Turd knew to remain silent.
"Just keep in mind that all this would have been unnecessary if you hadn't been such a hard-hearted bastard, both to your son and as dean." He smiled. "I only wish all those students whose lives you made miserable in one way or another could watch what's going to happen to you tonight." Another smile. "On the other hand, you may enjoy so much what's happening you won't have time for remorse."
Turd continued to stand silently, looking at the floor.
"Come over here and kneel, slave."
Turd did as he was commanded.
"Now, tell me what you are."
"I am your slave, Master."
"What else have you become?"
"I've been made to suck penises, Master."
Conti took the toe of one well-polished shoe and put it under the slave's balls. He lifted enough to cause the slave discomfort, if not actual pain. "I think you had better rephrase that, Turd."
"I'm a cocksucker, Master."
"And tonight where is Matt going to put his cock?"
"Wherever he wants, Master?"
Conti smiled. "Well, so far as you're concerned, yes. But specifically in addition to your mouth, where will he put it?"
"In my, uh, cunt, Master." Turd blushed as he said it, remembering that the man he now called Master was a much younger man and a former student. Remembering also that he was naked, shaved, on his knees and calling his asshole a cunt as his son watched.
"Okay, Matt. You know what you are to do. Take him away. I'll want to see him first thing tomorrow."
"Yes, Master."
Matt took Turd to the bathroom where he gave him three enemas, further humiliation for Turd, who'd never had an enema before. When Turd was cleaned up, they went down a hallway and into a room that had nothing in it but a king-sized bed with a lamp on an end table on one side. The bed had no bedspread or cover, only sheets and a pillow.
When they were inside, the door was locked from the outside.
"Get on your knees, slave, and kiss my feet."
"But, Matt –" He was interrupted by a hard backhand to his face.
"You don't talk unless I give you permission. And remember that you are to call me Sir." Matt went to the bedside table and withdrew a gag in the form of a penis. He roughly shoved it into Turd's mouth and secured it with straps behind his head.
"Now you can't kiss my feet, but you can't interrupt me, either. I want you to listen to me carefully. Nod your head to show you're paying attention."
Turd nodded his head.
"If I could do what I want, I'd like to fuck your ass until your were bleeding. You were always a hard-hearted bastard. You never told me you loved me. I'm surprised Mom stayed with you. And when I came out to you, you acted like I was slime. Yeah, I know, you paid my tuition and expenses, but you wanted me out of town so I wouldn't be an embarrassment to you."
The kneeling Turd looked up at his son. He couldn't speak, and his face was contorted by the dildo-gag in his mouth, but his eyes showed no defiance or anger.
"Like I said, I'd like to ream you a new asshole. But that's not what Master wants me to do. He wants me to show you how great anal sex can be. I'm supposed to make you like it. I'm supposed to get you so that you want to please the Master when he's fucking you. And there's another problem, you bastard."
Turd, who'd been at about eye level to his son's cock and had been staring at it, looked up to see something like worry in Matt's face.
The boy leaned forward and spoke quietly but intensely, "I don't want him to like you. I don't want you to make him happy in bed. He likes me. He takes me to bed with him most nights when he's home. Oh, once in a while he takes Fritz instead, but not usually. And I love it when he's fucking me. Afterward he usually cuddles me for a while and lets me sleep with him. Or else I get to lie on the floor next to his bed. Either way, it beats sleeping alone in my cell."
Turd was shocked to hear his son speak with such intensity about wanting to be Conti's sex toy. He realized that the boy was gay, but it hadn't ever really occurred to him that he wouldn't hate his servitude.
"So I'm gonna do what Master says. I'm gonna do everything I can to make you enjoy this. I'm gonna try to make you want cock up your ass all the time. I'll love that part. It'll be a pleasure to see my tight-assed father squealing and begging for more. But if you come between me and Master, I'll make you sorry. I'll still be in charge of you, and I'll have ways of making you wish you'd never taken my place with Master. Do you understand me, Turd?"
Turd, who had tears in his eyes, nodded his head.
"Okay, get on the bed with your head down and your ass up. You won't believe it right now, but you're gonna like this."
To be continued.