Date: Sun, 23 Dec 2012 15:23:21 -0800 (PST)
From: Ghostwriter_XYZ <ghostwriter_xyz@yahoo.com>
Subject: Timmy and His Masters Weekend in Hell 1B

Timmy and his Masters
Chapter 1B Beginnings continued.

See full disclaimer Chapter 1... This story depicts intense acts of sex,
SM, and pain among males. As always, if you are underage or this offends
you, get thee gone already. This is FICTION. All people, places etc.,
herein including the town of Limerick NY are a figment of the author's
warped imagination. And remember: DON'T TRY THESE THINGS AT HOME, kids.
Someone could end up critically injured or dead. If you don't know what
you're doing, DON'T! Nuff said...(c) 2012 Ghostwriter_XYZ.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Refer to the Dramatis Personae appended with previous
chapter. There are a LOT of characters in this story, some of whom are just
names or occasional "guest appearances." The Dramatis Personae will
facilitate your understanding of who's who and who isn't who, who is whose
Master, who is whose slave, who's fucking whom, who isn't fucking whom, who
had better NOT be fucking whom! GW

And now ON THE WITH SHOW!

Recap from previous chapter...

Master Dad smiled and said, "Well Timmy, you've had quite a show! Now it's
your turn! You're going to experience what my sons experienced with each of
them! I was stunned. Dear God are they gonna do this to ME??? I will DIE!

"Boys, he's all yours! No bullwhip or single--tailed whip; he's not ready
for them... Anything else is fair game! Use your imaginations! Have fun
boys!" he said with a smile! I groked it: if Master Dad is smiling, I'm in
BIG TROUBLE! MY TURN??? OMG--he's joking. I can't take it. I groked for the
first time being a slave meant I had no choices. God help me, I was gonna
LEARN what it means to be a slave. "I can't take this!" I blubbered,
embarrassed, ashamed of myself for being so quickly reduced to that. "Don't
matter to us, Timmy!" Oh God I AM gonna DIE! God if you are there, help me!
God--WHAT HAVE I GOTTEN MYSELF INTO??????


Chapter 1B Weekend in Hell

I woulda thought Billy and Sean woulda been too exhausted to move but they
somehow got a second wind if their bodies were bleeding. Even their Dicks
of Death were lacerated and bleeding, their balls swollen. They looked
utterly exhausted. Looked like it was, indeed, MY TURN. God help me, I AM
gonna die.

Sean clamped me and Billy together-- tits and dicks, tied our balls tightly
together. He inserted one end of a double-headed dildo into Billy's boyhole
and the other in mine. Oh, fuck it hurt! It was nowhere near the size
Master Dad used on them but it hurt and violated of one of my most private
orifices. Sean attached leather cuffs to our wrists, threaded cable through
the eyelets, and winched us up. It all was done quickly, expertly.  OMG--I
couldn't believe it--Billy O'Malley and me, clamped together--our tits and
dicks clamped to the other's, balls tied so tight together, we're almost
one being. It's scary but exhilarating.

 "Kiss me Timmy!" Billy croaked. WTF?! "Kiss me, Timmy! Open your mouth,
kiss me!" So, I opened my mouth. Billy's mouth and tongue quickly found
mine. OMG, I can't believe it--I'm kissing Billy O'Malley!!!! My dick is so
hard, my piss slit clamped to Billy's. Billy's tongue works magic as Sean
picked up a flogger, walked over to us, presented it to Billy. He kissed it
and whispered hoarsely to me, "KISS the instrument before and after every
session, Timmy." So, I kissed the whip. Billy's tongue found mine again, as
the first lash landed across my back. OMG--I did not know such pain was
possible. "Keep tonguing me, Timmy! It will keep you aroused and ease the
pain. You want this, don't you, Timmy?! You've dreamed of it!" Billy smiled
not unkindly.

Jayzuz! How the fuck did he know? In some sorta crazy way, I AM getting off
on this even more than when I "topped" myself. Like I said, guys,
pain/pleasure where does one end the other begin? Which is which? I don't
pretend to know. Talk to the "Shrink" if you want some kinda Freudian
theory! All I know is I AM getting off on this. I HAVE dreamed of this!
Suddenly, I cum. I felt it rising but with my balls tied down in their sac,
tied to Billy's, I CAN'T cum!

I squealed as Billy's tongue found mine again and I felt his naked,
hairless body shuddering against mine. Oh sweet Jayzuz I didn't know it
could be like this! We can't cum. Our balls are crushed so they can't make
cum and our dicks are tied off so tight to each other's no cum could "cum
out" anyway. But I spasmed, hopelessly, involuntarily, a mind shattering
cum-less orgasm. I dunno how Billy can manage yet another orgasm. I will
understand later it's not entirely voluntary.

The O'Malley twins HAVE to "orgasm" if not actually cum. They have to
achieve some sort of "climax," due to their genetic programming. Like I
said--blessing AND curse: they can cum again, again, again, again... But
the flip side is they HAVE to. They need "release." Richard Gallagher, ever
the scientist, explained it but Richard gets his head stuck up his ass and
can't always explain things to us mere mortals. Gist of what he says is
it's a built in compulsion. They MUST have that release or their bodies
rebel. They gotta have some sort of continuous climaxes or they suffer
severe physiological problems and that impacts the psychological and
vice-versa..

You want more detailed explanations, I'd give you Richard's email except
you'd have to hire Master Charles to "interpret." Richard is going into a
dual Masters/Ph.D. program, in Chemistry and Applied Physics. Sometimes,
Master Charles, aka Dr. Woodward, our high school chemistry teacher and, it
turns out, our Community "Mad Chemist," Richard's Master, is the only one
who understands what the fuck Richard is talking about! Richard owes Master
Charles his immortal soul.

Rumor has it Master Charles smacked his lips in gleeful satisfaction when
Richard was fixed. It's what happens when you sell yourself into slavery to
pay for your education. I saw the video of Richard's fixing. He couldn't
believe they were doing this to HIM-Richard Joseph Gallagher, "Mad
Scientist in Training!" Sorry to burst your bubble, Richard, but you ain't
no better than the rest of us!

Peter also sold himself into slavery, but Peter is so invaluable to this
Community and Levittown Medical Center itself NOBODY fucks with Peter
literally or otherwise! Master Donald is legally his Master but they're
also colleagues, work closely with each other day after day, have each
other's backs, have saved each other's asses on a few occasions. Richard
and Master Charles are a different story. Richard also has the added
humiliation of creating "potions" he tests on himself.

Anyway... Did Master Dad have Billy and Sean's desperate NEED to cum
deliberately genetically engineered? I will come to appreciate, there are
things about Billy and Sean O'Malley that NO ONE asks... Equally off
limits-maybe more so--is Billy and Sean's mom, Meagan. She disappeared
abruptly when the twins were 5, supposedly about the time Master Dad began
grooming them as slaves. Billy and Sean don't know either and Master Dad
has made it off limits to them too.

I've cum; I hurt. I orgasm, arousal gone, pain is just pain. So it is for
fixed slaves. They're incapable of arousal; pain is just pain. Pain is
slaves' constant companion. I will learn it's codified in writing: SLAVES
SUFFER. They emphasize that in writing, in the Slave Rules over and over:
SLAVES SUFFER. Jayzuz! Every slave knows the rules backward and severe
consequences of even inadvertent disobedience of ANY of the rules. Like I
said, for most fixed slaves, the daily suffering is constant. There's never
a minute a slave is pain-free.

Some slaves "get off" on it all, revel in their slavery--Pookie, e.g. For
most slaves, however, pain is just pain and the daily, unceasing onslaught
is unbearable. But, like Timmy said, you bear it because you have no
choice. SLAVES SUFFER. Pain, loneliness, discomfort...all a slave's
constant companion. Stephen tells me for him and other fixed slaves,
there's always a constant dull ache where their insides used to be. No
balls, no prostate, no capability of sexual arousal, can't get a hardon,
nothing but bare skin where your balls and sac and stuff used to be. And,
Stephen and the others say a wet noodle is more capable of getting hard
than your dick. Jayzuz! Him again... I now have a small taste of it,
utterly depleted, incapable of arousal, wanting to plead for mercy. I hurt
like I never imagined a guy could hurt. Yet, this is my first lesson in 2
cardinal rules of slavery. It ain't over till Master says it`s over, and,
well, yet again, SLAVES SUFFER.

Sean turned us around, ran our tit clamps over our shoulders, clamped and
untied our dicks and retied them under our groins.  He wielded the
flogger. OMG the pain was unreal. I've never endured anything like
it. Being whipped on my front is a million times worse than my back. This
is not "torture" myself, cum, dress, run. It's for real. It ain't over till
Masters say it's over. Jayzuz, such unrelenting pain--my ribs and side, my
dick.  It's a double whammy: I've cum, have no arousal left. And I haven't
the comfort of Billy's mouth and tongue to keep me aroused.

Crack, crack, crack... Three strikes across my dick and balls. Jayzuz! Will
it never stop? Please, Master Sean it HURTS! It HUUURRRRRTS. But I can't
talk, never mind cry out and Sean wouldn't care. I feel Billy shudder
against me several more times. What's it like, Billy, to orgasm again and
again, never go soft till your body is utterly exhausted and even your
custom designed testes and prostate can't make any more cum? And yet they
still "orgasm," some sorta cum-less climax. They will confirm that
later. They can't help it. they orgasm--cum or not--till their bodies are
utterly exhausted and nothing can make them orgasm for an hour or so.

Finally it's over. How long? I dunno, don't wanna know. I can't be dead
because I hurt too much. Yet, it's a glorious hurt! Erik must be right:
somehow I "get off" on pain and humiliation. "The O'Malley twins meet that
need, somehow, Timothy. It's why you keep putting yourself through all this
shit, Timothy, and going back for more!" Erik always says with bemusement.

Sean put down the whip and rammed his Dick of Death into his brother's
hole, banging us together, causing all new loci of pain. Sean cummed up his
brother's ass--still a copious load in spite of it all. He pulled out, let
us down, inserted his shit/cum covered dick in my mouth. I eagerly opened
my mouth and let him in, sucking, cleaning him as he cummed another ample
load. Jayzuz! Haven't you run out of "juice" yet, guys? But they HAVE to
"orgasm," until long after their bodies are utterly exhausted. They cum
until they absolutely cannot "get it up." Their insides and plumbing hurt
terribly but they HAVE to cum.

Sean undid our clamps. He and Billy exchanged deep kisses, their dicks
rising to tumescence again. They break the kiss. Sean took Billy's place as
Billy clamped us together and raised us with the winch. I think Billy whips
a little easier. I will learn Sean is the more natural top; Billy the more
natural bottom. But there's an intense rivalry between the twins. Sean
would never take less than his brother however much he prefers the top
role. Billy will outdo his brother in cruelty lest his brother exceed him
even now when they're so tired I dunno how they stand up. Master Dad, after
all, put them through a hell of an ordeal.

Master Dad gives them pretty much carte blanche to do what they wish to
each other short of permanent damage to HIS bodies. In a future chapter,
you will watch an intense scene between the brothers in which their innate
savagery is given free reign. They literally beat each other into
exhaustion and keep on going till they can no longer stand up and collapse
in each other's arms. For now, I suffer. SLAVES SUFFER. Ain't kidding about
that. The curse of being back to back with Sean instead of face to face is
I have nothing to give me relief. I can't reach Sean's mouth. Can't twist
my head around. I haven't their ability to orgasm again and again. I cummed
and am spent. Pain is just pain. Billy's accuracy is as unerring as his
twin's. Every stroke is a money stroke.

After maybe a half-hour, Billy dropped the whip, came over and rammed his
Dick of Death into my boyhole, in one fierce thrust. He cummed gallons, let
us down, then offered his dick to his brother to clean. Master Dad smiled
his approval and gave the 3 of us bloody messes a big hug. "Carry on,
boys." "Thank you, Master Dad!" I exclaimed with them. Their Master is MY
Master. They will not even say Good morning till they've cleared it with
Master Dad. Anything they do to me is cleared through Master Dad. He writes
the prescriptions for my diuretics and laxatives. I get them filled at
Seamus' pharmacy. (It's really Limerick Drugs and Pharmaceuticals, but
everyone calls it Seamus' Pharmacy.)

Permanent slaves meds are supplied by a wholesale pharmacy in
Boston. Arthur, the Pharmacist who works with Seamus reputedly has an
interest in that company. Another don't ask... Arthur is probably Seamus'
hair apparent since Seamus' children and grandchildren have no interest in
the pharmacy business. Artie O'Shaughnessy, Adam`s dad--Seamus' grandson or
possibly great-grandson, is too busy drinking/gambling away his paychecks
to give a shit about anything including Adam. supposedly,

Justin, the kid who staffs the front counter at Seamus' pharmacy and often
plays delivery boy on his bicycle, has a mom who's too busy whoring around
to give a fuck about her kid. Justin "rents" a room from Seamus, is utterly
devoted to the old man, helps him up/down the stairs to the store every
day. Justin supposedly pays Seamus $10/week but it never gets taken out of
his paycheck. Old man needs somebody to watch over him. Adam does what he
can but daddy gets angry if Adam isn't home.

Rumor has it Justin is "practicing" to be a slave. our slave gossip mill is
usually pretty accurate. I'd top the fucker in a heartbeat. Jacob first but
Justin certainly. Jacob and Justin sittin in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g! Jose
said he'd pay money for that! Coupla us slave's would pay money to see
these 2 nerds top each other!

Artie and Mickey, Adam's dad & grandfather, respectively, are too busy with
the bottle and ponies. Scares shit outta me that they're gonna come for
Adam's dad & grandpa like they did for Nickie's father and Adam's gonna be
the one to pay. If I believed in God I'd pray it don't happen but like I
keep sayin, guys, if there was a God, my dad woulda never left, mom and
Stepfather woulda never met and we'd be one big happy family. Fuck-I might
even have a brother or sister, maybe few of'em...

I worry about Adam but something tells me I better worry about Timothy
Charles O'Hara because I gotta feeling he's in deep shit! (Slave technique
is to depersonalize the experience. Like I said, most slaves cannot "veg
out" on pain. Pain is pain slaves hurt. SLAVES SUFFER. And suffer 24/7. But
Will says sometimes he can depersonalize the experience kinda transcend his
body.)

Funny-me and Billy and Sean could be triplets! We three get off on pain. I
can't have the orgasms they do. I'm not genetically programmed for that. I
don't have their ability to orgasm again, again, again... But it IS a
curse, too, because they HAVE to climax. If Richard Gallagher could get his
head outta his ass he might be able to explain. Master Charles is
unapproachable. Like slave like Master! Dr. Woodward is as bad as his
slave. He's a good teacher-and a helluva scientist--but Jayzuz!--ask him a
question and fuckin Einstein wouldn't know what the fuck the answer
meant. But like I said, me and Billy and Sean get off on pain if I could
never take what they do. But I'm a newbie. By the time I'm 21, fixed,
collared and branded, I'll take every bit as much as they and maybe
more. Of course, I won't have a choice in the matter. SLAVES SUFFER.

I don't like the humiliation. I HATE this goddam degradation, being exposed
to all the world even as a transitional slave. I'm not part of the "show."
Transitional slaves are not on the Community website. But Billy and Sean
can watch anytime they want and THEY can post the "show" on the Community
website. I don't know if Master Dad has given his ok. I don't ask... Fuck-I
don't DARE ask. There are questions, guys, I don't want answers to!

But goddammit I hate having to submit to brother slaves and
freebois. Ramone, our school senior slave, can be a real sadistic bastard,
getting off on humiliating his brothers. He made me wear my underwear
inside out last week and I got spanked, paddled and belted for an
hour. Coupla weeks ago he made me change clothes with Nickie then violated
both of us for wearin the wrong clothes. They set us up deliberately then
smirk when they violate and punish us.

So now, Billy and Sean placed me on my knees before them. They were
exhausted, their voices barely above whispers. "As you are now, slave, keep
yourself or we will whip you bloody! You will be completely hairless below
the neck at all times including your boyhole. Your BOYHOLE not your
asshole!"

"Yes Masters." I was giddy with excitement, anticipation, fear,
uncertainty, I don't know what!

"You need to get fucked again, slave!"

"Yes, Masters!"

They took me, again. I cummed twice! They declared, "You liked that Timmy!
Your dick don't lie!" Yeah--I didn't understand but, somehow, I LIKED IT. I
admitted it, my voice still thick with arousal if my body was utterly
exhausted. "Yes, Masters, I LIKED IT."

They make me admit that every day. I told you, I kneel before them, "go to
confession," something all slaves are mandated to do. My special onus is I
have to stroke myself and cum at the exact minute my "confession" is
over. Not a second before, not a second later. I cum at the very instant I
am done with my confession. Try it--you won't like it! Fuckin bastards...
Then they make me admit it. I'm utterly spent, sweaty, disgusted with
myself, utterly, utterly degraded. But I make my final confession, ""Yes,
Masters, I LIKED IT." On one hand, I hate them for making me admit it. On
the other hand, there's something exhilarating in submitting to my GODS,
acknowledging them as MY MASTERS.

I woulda thought what Master Dad put them through would've exhausted them
but they got a second wind. Dunno know how many times they took me, how
many gallons of jism they unloaded up my ass, down my throat, how many
gallons of their cum and pee I eagerly swallowed till it filled my bowels
and stomach. Dunno how many times I cummed. I cried tears of shame every
time. Yes, you sodden, stinking, fucking bastards, I LIKE IT. I hate you so
much for making me admit it but goddamn you both to hell, **I LIKED
IT.**Are you happy now, Billy and Sean? Are you happy, MASTERS? I admit I
like every terrible, horrible, degrading, WONDERFUL thing you do to
me. Sob, sob, sob...

Jose always tells me, Be careful, hermano. I don't want to see you hurt,
Timmy, caro. They lose control, hermano." Si, I agree, "hermano!" I do love
Jose! Adam is a risk. Slaves and freebois, absolute no-no. But two
slaves--can work out. The Spanish business is our private joke. I speak
more Spanish than Jose! He came to Texas with his mama and baby sister when
he was 2 years old. His momma refused to speak Spanish to him, insisted he
learn English. Jose Eduardo de Maria Sanchez, I LOVE YOU! It's a gentler
coupling than with Adam. Me and Adam, sometimes, we're like dogs in heat! I
love slowly undressing Jose, savoring every inch of his handsome body as I
strip it of clothing. I love fucking him, letting him fuck me.  Jose is
still "intact." Who knows how long... It will be soon, we both know. The
Masters Council is putting down its collective foot and anxious to have
slaves fixed. An AIDS outbreak in Ulster County about 50 miles north of
here and all its complications, has created an urgency in getting permanent
slaves fixed so "They CAN'T go stickin their dickies where they don't
belong. They can't stick'em ANYWHERE!" Master Verdi declares in his thick
Puerto Rican/Bronx accent.

The Ubermaster had to appoint Master Richard, a physician specializing in
infectious diseases and AIDS/HIV as Regent of Ulster County. His main task
is triage-who's infected, who's not, who is at risk. Entire county had to
be quarantined. Like they're sealed off from rest of Community. Master
Verdi has a point. If slaves dicks don't work, they're beyond impotence,
utterly SEXLESS, they CAN'T stick their dicks where they don't belong. They
can't stick'em fuckin ANYWHERE! End of risk!

We're not always sure what Master Verdi says-Puerto Rico + Bronx = ugh!
Master Cy is always happy to interpret for Master Verdi as is Emilio,
Master Verdi's slave Personal Assistant, who also speaks "Fluent Master
Verdi" not the least because his Master Pedro has ALMOST as thick an
accent! Emilio can be a bit of a smartass but we like him because he can be
so eager and is a wonderful role model for the rest of us. Then too, if you
work 16-18 hours/day in the Holy of Holies, outside Master Verdi's office
and just the other side of the hallway from The Ubermaster Himself, you
GOTTA be 1000% squared away!

Emilio is cool. He eagerly takes part in our "Parties" on both sides of the
"equation." Master Rafael has taught him a great deal about
electrotorture. The Ubermaster Himself is sometimes in awe of Master
Rafael's incredible skills with electricity. Like I told ya, guys, 5
minutes under Master Rafael's "ministrations" with his electrical "toys"
and you'd confess to assassinating LINCOLN never mind JFK! You will give
anything to make the pain stop. He's amazingly adept at discerning truth
from bullshit and keeps going until he has coaxed the truth out of
you. Emilio is a worthy pupil. And Emilio is so quiet its worse than
submitting to Master Rafael!

Anyway, Me and Jose are grateful to Masters Gonzalez and Montgomery for
"looking the other way." They are "mensches," as Joel says. Adam and Dustin
would vehemently disagree but Master Gonzalez is their Master, they're his
slaves. Masters Gonzalez and Montgomery are consummate professionals,
damned good nurses, good men, unspeakably cruel Masters, and dammit, we all
hope someday "husband and husband," as Pookie puts it.

The Ubermaster could legally marry them and fuck Father McMahon. (Yuck--who
would want to? Dunno what Lucy sees in the Padre. Forbidden fruit? Maybe
it's their biological clocks tickin--Lucy's 50; Father McMahon's 60...) The
Ubermaster and Fr. McMahon have an "agreement." The Ubermaster and Masters
Council don't say shit to the Archbishop about Father McMahon's trysts with
Lucy or Fr. Bobby's with Billy and Sean and both padres keep their noses
outta The Masters Council's business. One word to the Archbishop, and there
would be a housecleaning like no one has ever seen in the Roman church! The
Archbishop has zero tolerance for priests who violate their vows of
celibacy! Of course, His Emptiness would need a Sherpa Guide to find his
way here from his cozy Long Beach mansion ... The padres know damn well who
plays the tune they dance to. The Ubermaster is OUR God!

I treasure every minute me and Jose can be together. Billy and Sean can't
do a fuckin thing about it either. Master Dad took care of that thanks to
Masters Gonzalez and Montgomery's intervention. Even the most profound
masochist has limits. The pain becomes so utterly overwhelming you do
anything, AGREE to anything to make the pain stop. If Master Dad can't
break Billy and Sean Master Rafael can. Five minutes with his electrical
"toys" and Billy and Sean are reduced to sobbing wretched, sodden messes
pleading for the pain to stop. Takes me about 30 seconds! Master Dad told
Billy and Sean if they didn't like me and Jose having our "trysts" he would
MAKE them like it! Score one for Timmy for change!

Most slaves Go to Confession to their Masters every evening. You are on
your knees before your Master, head bowed, never daring to meet his
gaze. You tell him in explicit, comprehensive detail every fuck up for the
last 24 hours. You must be aware of your own shortcomings, "sins," even if
you have not been formally violated. You make a full, complete, thorough
confession and you cannot have your notebook or the violations on file on
your slave BlackBerry. You gotta KNOW.  God help you if you miss anything
because Master knows and will remind you and punish you for your sin of
omission. Master knows EVERYTHING.

Masters have the most incredibly comprehensive, complete "dossiers" on
every one of their slaves, even stuff that may not have been formally
transmitted to Will and David. Some Goons and Masters don't make formal
reports to the Communications Desk but rather send a quick text/email to
the slave's Master. Your Master knows more about your day and everything
you fucked up, every " little misstep," as Master Daniel sarcastically puts
it, then GOD. Shit--God don't know what your Master knows! And you better
be acutely aware of every dumb-ass insignificant fuck up, just the "F-word"
comin out of your mouth, or Master will whip you into oblivion.

I have variation on that "theme." My special burden is to go to Confession
every morning. I kneel before my Masters in our Private Room, recounting
all of the previous day's fuck ups while stroking myself to orgasm, cumming
at the exact instant I'm done with my Confession. (Yeah-the process is
called that. We Go to Confession. We Confess our sins. Just like we do in
that black box with the Padre! Master imposes an agonizing, prolonged
Penance. After our Penance, we again kneel before our GOD, express our
profound sorrow for all our "misdoings," for embarrassing Master,
disappointing Him, and begging His forgiveness. He gives us Absolution, and
we promise to Amend our Lives. We know and Masters know we will fuck up
again tomorrow.

Few slaves manage to get through a day without at least a few serious
"infractions," and a lot of "venial sins." Just a slip of the tongue, a
perceived reluctance to allow someone to inspect you, a missing button on
your shirt, (that, of course, you can't help, but the only acceptable
response is "No excuses, Sir."), a fraction of an inch too short/long of
your undershirt showing around the legbands of your briefs..and yeah, we
measure it with a tape measure. ONE INCH, not 1 1/16 inch, not 15/16
inch. THAT FUCKIN PRECISE. We learn real quick what exactly an inch looks
like. And that means one inch ALL THE WAY AROUND THE LEG BANDS OF YOUR
BRIEFS. Hard as fuckin hell initially. But damn, you get tired of bein
violated and learn real damn FAST.

Training Goons always explain to us, patiently, with increasing amounts of
"coercive stimulus how we SHOULD regret embarrassing our Masters. A good
slave is a squared away, compliant, obedient slave. Stephen will point out
to me later it's the younger slaves like "Little James," who are the role
models and older slaves like Richard who never seem to get it
together. Yeah, Master Charles sets the bar so impossibly high for Richard
the best slave in our entire International Community couldn't meet his
standards but Stephen, Walter and others think Richard doesn't try very
hard sometimes. "Richard thinks he's better than us." Stephen says, shaking
his head.

I'll learn Stephen has great insights, is very mindful of his own
shortcomings. "I get sloppy, Timmy. Master sometimes gives me my own head
too much!" I like wearin "wifebeaters," instead of tees. Got caught a few
times. Man did I get whipped! Whipped BLOODY, Timmy, worse than Billy and
Sean get it from Master James. Master flogged my dick for a half-hour with
the penis scourge. Oh man, Timmy, you ain't had pain till they use that
penis scourge on you. That's one of Chadwick's more fiendish inventions!
Ask Joff. Jayzuz! That poor fucker!"

"Chadwick is Master Jordan's slave at the Toy Box in Levittown. The Toy Box
is outwardly an adult store, Timmy. but it operates under special contract
with The Masters Council. Master Jordan, its owner was called by The
Ubermaster to establish The Toy Box. It's sorta our `commissary,' as Master
Stanley puts it. Master Stanley is the Head of Security, the Goon
Squad. He's a retired Green Beret! The Toy Box supplies all the different
`tools of the trade,' our `toys.' Chadwick is Master Jordan's slave, who
actually creates much of The Toy Box's custom merchandise. Nobody knows
Chadwick's real name or how old he is or anything. He's evil, Timmy! He's
evil!" Stevie chuckles but not entirely jokingly.

"Joff is Chadwick's slave. Joff is also Chadwick's `test dummy,' `guinea
pig!' Chadwick tries everything on Joff and refines as he goes. Joff is
sorta Sancho Panza to Chadwick's Don Quixote all but singing "I like him; I
really like him!!!" Joff fell in love with Chadwick and the rest... Well
everybody thinks, `Joff, that poor fucker!' most of us think even our
bottomest bottoms Daniel, Kent and Nickie do not suffer like Joff"

"Franklin, our oldest active slave, our Electrician, is an our role
model. He never rests on his laurels, is the model of a squared away
slave. Franklin is exempt from some of our restrictions cuz he's on call
24/7. But Peter tells us we should use Franklin as our ideal. Peter is no
slouch, even if HE is exempt from many of our regs because HE is on call
almost 24/7 and is the senior slave of our entire International Community
of Masters and slaves. He and Master Donald also have an unusual
relationship because each has the other's back."

"Master Donald is an anesthesiologist and technically Peter's Master. Peter
is a Nurse Anesthetist. They works closely together and like mi said, each
has the other's back. You'll meet Peter later."

So, anyway, because Billy and Sean have their own Confession with Master
Dad in the evening, I go to Confession with them every morning. and I
stroke myself, cumming at the exact second I am done. Not a second before
or after. I lick up my cum from the concrete floor of the Private Room,
making sure the floor GLEAMS. Reports go to Master Dad first then to Billy
and Sean. Master Dad holds them accountable for MY infractions. Then they
punish me. shit. I'm still learning. What the fuck do you want?

Another soliloquy--my bad! Punishment of your choice! Masters kept me
tightly tittie clamped, the catheter in my dick clamped off, gave me more
fluids. Thought my bladder would burst. My pain was extreme, but so was my
ecstasy. Like I keep asking, pain/pleasure, which is which? Where does one
end and the other begin? I threw my head back and howled in one of the most
intense orgasms I ever had in, an orgasm I would not have thought humanly
possible. It hurt to cum through the catheter in my dick but that, somehow
felt good, too. Fuck--it WAS all fucked up. All I know is I had the most
intense orgasm I ever had.  Billy and Sean smiled, understanding, cumming
themselves yet again. They were pretty much spent but got off on my
multiple orgasms through pain.

They lay down the law. "Timothy Charles O'Hara, you are our slave. We are
your Masters. You will obey us at all times in all things. If you ever
betray our confidence, it's over forever. You don't want that do you,
Timmy?"

"No Masters." True. I've never experienced pain like this in my life but
never experienced PLEASURE like it, either. I dunno if you grok it, guys,
but all this pain and degradation touched something deep inside my psyche.
Erik always says, "You have a deep-seated need for pain and humiliation,
Timothy, and the O'Malley twins, somehow, meet those needs!"  but, like
Jose, Erik always adds, "Be careful, Timothy, you're playing with fire.
Without their dad's controls, Billy and Sean could be very dangerous. They
lack a superego governance and can't regulate themselves, Timothy. Someday,
bro, they are going to seriously hurt someone and all the king's horses and
all the king's people and all of Dr. O'Malley's skills and the influences
of, what do you call him--`your Ubermaster,' won't be able to put
Humpty-Dumpty back together again! I just hope it's not YOU they hurt very
badly!" And the "Shrink" doesn't charge me even 5 cents for the advice!

I'd go MAD without Erik! Me and Jose we're too eager to "copulate," FUCK,
if you will--and even if you WON'T!--to enjoy the limited time we have, the
time and unprecedented privacy Masters Gonzalez and Montgomery so
thoughtfully provide us. "We were young and in love once, too, Timmy!"
Master Gonzalez always says. Master Montgomery always quips, "We were
YOUNG??!!" Master Gonzalez is a new Master. so maybe he has more
empathy. Me and Jose, we're just grateful for the limited time and privacy
they provide us to waste time "processing." We leave that to the "Shrink"

Masters continued, "We will take you whenever we want. We will do with you
what we want. When you turn twenty-one, you will become our permanent slave
forever: fixed, collared and branded. We will introduce you to our
Community of Masters and slaves but we have to arrange that. Maybe our next
`party.'"

I had no idea what they were talking about. "Community?" What Community?
And what's this "fixing?" Am I broke? Do I need to be "fixed?" Lord--what I
didn't know 3½+ years ago! And "party?" I gotta feeling this ain't gonna
be cake & ice cream and maybe pin the tail on the donkey! Maybe pin the
tail on the Timmy! My head hurt from trying to make sense of what they were
telling me.

I knelt naked in front of these beautiful boys, my Masters, my GODS,
gallons of cum seeping out of both holes, my dick dripping with cum around
my catheter. My limbs ached from being stretched to the limit. I hurt so
much; I loved every fuckin minute, every ache, every twinge of pain! I was
in hell; I was in HEAVEN.

Erik patiently explains. "Some people, Timothy, the brain confuses pain and
pleasure and turns pain into pleasure. It's not even genital, Timothy. It's
why your friend, Mookie, is it?" "Pookie!" "Pookie then, has full body
orgasms even though he's--what's the term--`fixed,' incapable of genital
orgasm. It's nothing to do with being Gay. Lots of straight men `get off'
on being `disciplined' by a woman." (They do? WTF???) "And it has nothing
to do with your dick, Timothy! It's your head. It's why I keep telling you,
Timothy," we recite together, "You don't need a dick to have sex." Yes,
Sir, Shrink Erik, Sir!

I've learned how right Erik is. Andre, for example, Master Ferdinand's
slave, had a penectomy--his dick removed--has a catheter in the remaining
stub of his urethra. He somehow "gets off" without a dick. And Tony has
those ostomies. Tony loves it when I gently fuck his ileostomy! He "gets
off," in some kinda "orgasm." You go talk to the Shrink if you want
answers. I don't always have the QUESTIONS!

Anyway, I knelt naked, cum dripping outta my "holes" as I would learn to
call them, waiting for the next shoe to drop when it did. The outside door
opened and in came 4 hulking men. "These are The Ubermaster's `Associates,'
Timmy." Billy and Sean explained. "We call them `Goons!'" Term fit. They
looked like gorillas! Without a word, they picked me up, hauled me out
still naked. "Let's get him into the Slave Transport Vehicle, guys," the
biggest motherfucker of all directed. "Yes, Sir, Blotto " they replied, as
they picked me up like a sack of potatoes and hauled me to a waiting van
that I would learn is a STV, Slave Transport Vehicle--NOT SUV! Nothing
"sporty" or luxurious about STVs.

They kept my hands cuffed behind my back and locked them to the small of my
back with a tight belly chain. They impaled me on a huge dildo in the cargo
hold of this Slave Transport Vehicle, , chained, half-sitting,
half-reclining, a horrible, painful, degrading position, ignoring my
gut-wrenching scream. Fuck it hurt! They removed the "dog collar" Billy and
Sean--MASTERS--had placed on me with a thick leather collar with a large D
ring on the back to which they locked a chain leaving me in a horrible
position where I could neither sit up or lay flat.

"That's a slave's position, boy!" the big fucker told me--and I mean BIG
fucker!--the others called "Blotto." They attached my ankles to chains on
the sides of the van. I was positioned with everything splayed out.  I'd
learn it IS a slave's position, especially shameful for fixed slaves. You
can neither lay flat or sit up, everything is held open, and, thanks to
webcams everyone can see you in this hideous position and see what's
missing. There are webcams everywhere including in Slave Transport
Vehicles, cells, etc.

That's little Sebastian's department. 13-year-old slave Sebastian maintains
the Community website, all the webcams, even the slaves for sale
site. Little fucker makes Bill Gates incompetent. And yeah, Sebastian makes
sure the one in HIS cell works. He's on display just like all other
permanent slaves in our Community. Sebastian somehow gets off on being on
public display--go figger... Will says people pay $75/month for unlimited
access 24/7. Another $75/month will get you admission to a monthly Party.

Yeah--they have a gallery where guys--exclusively guys--can watch our
Parties. For $500 you can watch a slave being fixed and all the gory
details thereafter. No one is allowed to "play" in our Parties who is not a
member of our Community--usually just Masters and slaves-Goons rarely
participate--they keep order, watch for problems.

Cy once, in a rare unguarded moment, laughed and said, The Masters Council
is an business guys. SOMETHING has to finance it!" The finances of our
Community are NOT open to slaves, Associates, or Masters. Only the
Executive Staff, The Ubermaster, Overseer Thomas, Master Verdi, Master
Frank, the Chief Fiscal Officer, and the Executive Committee of The Masters
Council have access to the financials. Needless to say, Emilio is
excluded. Peter, the Community senior slave is but Peter is a paradigm of
discretion. "My nursing license and CRNA (Certified Registered Nurse
Anesthetist) license depend on my maintaining confidentiality! It's second
nature!"

Cy is cool. He's a titular Master, married with 4 kids. He's The
Ubermaster's Confidential Assistant. He tends not to take it all too
seriously. Master Verdi most assuredly DOES. Master Verdi is Chief Slave
Officer, Master/Executive in charge of all Master/slave operations for the
Community. He's very no-nonsense, brusque, a first-rate manager and a
helluva cruel Master. Master Verdi no longer owns slaves himself. He felt
he could not care for even one slave with his insane hours. slave Emilio is
Master Verdi's Assistant and is treated sorta like the slave Master Verdi
doesn't have. Sometimes we feel sorry for Emilio. What he doesn't get from
his Master Pedro, he gets from Master Verdi! No question The Ubermaster is
the cruelest Master of them all and one of the most versatile. Master Verdi
is barely a step below Him in savagery.

The Goons positioned me before I could protest. They're very good at
that--rarely need force. They work as a team, quickly, efficiently with
practiced precision. Masters Stanley and Daniel train their men well. Don't
use force unless you have to. Work as a team—don't need force. All I
knew is these brutes--"Goons" --impaled me on a dildo, restrained me in a
hideously obscene position before I could even protest—fuck--before I
even knew what the fuck they were doing! My dick was still catheterized,
the other end taped securely in my mouth. One of the "Goons" as I would
learn they are, indeed, called and wear the appellation as badges of pride,
reinforced the tape around my mouth, pulling my catheterized dick almost
perpendicular to my chest, securing it with a vicious clamp on my belly
button.

My dick was rock hard, kept that way by a studded cockring so tight I
thought it would cut off circulation and my dick would rot and fall off! My
balls were secured by a tight ball stretcher, pushed down to the bottom of
their sack. Billy and Sean had coated them and the dildo liberally with Ben
Gay. The dildo went deep inside me, hurt terribly. I moaned in pain, in
ECSTASY. I was in hell; I was in HEAVEN. The cockring wasn't the only
reason my dick was hard enuf to pound nails. I confess, guys, bless me
father etc., I somehow was enjoying every minute of this! Like I keep
askin, guys, pain/pleasure, agony/ecstasy heaven/hell—which IS which. I
dunno... To this day, guys, I DON'T KNOW. maybe I never will...

Goons stopped at my house, opened the door to my basement living space, and
threw me on my bed, not removing chains or catheter. They put instructions
in my hands. They read:

Slave Timmy: follow these instructions to the letter: -Leave the catheter
in both ends. Do not attempt to remove it.  -Do not try to put on
clothes. Associates will be here in the morning to take care of things.
[WTF? My hands are cuffed behind my back, the locks covered, my cuffed
wrists tightly secured to my waist with a belly chain, my ankles are
shackled, how the hell could I put on clothes?!)  -Strip your bed,
Timmy. Place sheets, blankets and pillow in a pile by the door. Sleep naked
on top of your bed, as you are, your catheter draining in your mouth.
-Tomorrow morning, slave Timmy, your slavery begins for real. Get a good
night's sleep, slave. It will be your last!  -And Timmy, DON'T TOUCH YOUR
DICK OR YOU WILL BE THE SORRIEST FUCKER EVER TO WALK EARTH!!!!

God--WHAT HAVE I GOTTEN MYSELF INTO???? God help me if you are there. I am
scared beyond any belief. GOD HELP ME!!!!!!


To be continued...


So, what will become of Timmy? Will Erik wake him, say there, there, Timmy,
you're all right now, it's all a dream! Hey—it worked for Bobby Ewing on
Dallas! (A Salute to the incomparable Larry Hagman who played JR Ewing all
these years, having so much fun with the character & his machinations!)
Well, if that's the case, guys, we have come to an abrupt, bizarre ending!
Stay tuned for the next thrilling episode of Timmy and his Masters!

I'm going to end this here as a kind of segue into Timmy's first day as a
slave. I don't want the chapter to go on for 100+ pages! As always, I
welcome your comments, suggestions, criticisms, etc. just please give me
TIME to reply. Erma Bombeck was absolutely right: Life IS what happens
while you're busy making other plans! Ghostwriter_xyz@yahoo.com