Date: Sun, 22 Apr 2018 23:34:39 +0000 (UTC) From: Hank M Subject: WILD PUPS SALE, ch.8 WILD PUPS SALE, chapter 8 8. CODY: PUMPKIN, THE PLEASURE SLAVE The three 18-year-old jocks have been on display at the Gaytown Slave Hall all day. Next they are each auctioned off before a large crowd and each boy faces his future as a slaveboy for five years (or longer). By Master Redbeard r -- e -- d -- b -- e -- a -- r -- d -- e -- d -- s -- f at y a h o o dot com If you enjoy this story (and ones like it) SUPPORT NIFTY! http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html 8. CODY: PUMPKIN, THE PLEASURE SLAVE As the final gawkers were ushered out of the display rooms, slave workers quickly unchained slaveboys and re-chained them for the auction stage. The three of us in the front window were the last to be packed up. My arms were attached to a frame, my right hand upper right and left hand upper left, so my body made the shape of a Y, with my legs left dangling. Russell and Wally were chained up similarly. The frames were wheeled to an area backstage where we could see most of the proceedings. The auction started with a group of three boys who were all naked, husky and looked very angry. Each of them was gagged and wrapped in chains. Mr. Bodoni served as auctioneer. He introduced these boys to the audience, spun each boy around to show their butts, then he told the story of how they were indentured. "Because it was a robbery at gunpoint they've each been sentenced to fifteen years indenture, and that was just three days ago. I'm sure most judges would be happy to extend that to life. As you can see none of them are accepting their indenture well." The man sounded like a showman as he went on, "Of course gelding would help calm them down quite a bit. You could also attach rings anywhere on their bodies to control them, hook them to any wall you like." At that point I closed my eyes trying to shut out everything going on around me. Hours passed and my arms were numb. I had lost all track of time when my frame was finally wheeled out on the stage to much cheering and applause. I couldn't see any of the audience because the lights were in my eyes, but I could tell there was a big crowd. Mr. Bodoni chuckled to the crowd and said, "Yes, we made you wait a while for our featured sale items. We begin with little Cody." As he pointed to my body, he prattled on, "He is 5 foot 4 inches, 115 pounds, and his penis measures fully stiff at four-and-a-quarter inches." The audience laughed at that. He pulled down the front of my cartoon undies and displayed my cock, all shriveled up from fear and intimidation. There was more laughter, followed by some "awwwww" sounds like people make when they see a cute puppy. On the screen behind me was a close-up of my erection with hair around it. Bodoni pointed to it and said, "That's the boy before he was body shaved just within the last 24 hours." An embarrassed chuckle from the crowd and the man continued, "There wasn't much hair. But I promise we have all the paperwork and proof that the boy is 18 and can be legally used as a slaveboy." I looked down at the floor so humiliated. The bidding went so fast I couldn't keep track of it. I don't know how anyone understood Mr. Bodoni's fast paced patter. Then the effeminate man announced, "Sold" and pointed at someone in the audience. I had an owner, though I didn't know who it was. When I was brought backstage someone wrote on my chest with a marker. I was then doubled up and pushed into a small cage, the size you'd get for a large dog. My knees were up against my chest. The number on my chest was repeated on the front of the cage. My cage was placed along a corridor with dozens of others. Big black slaves came and took one cage at a time. Then they finally came for mine and carried me out to the back of the building. I looked up and saw Master Red, who grabbed the cage from the slave and carried me to his large luxury car. He put me on the front seat next to him and started up the car. As he droves he kept reaching over and fondling me through the bars. This man had made me feel so nice the way he had talked to me and touched me on the display floor, his touch gave me a warm sense of contentment. Maybe slavery wouldn't be so bad after all? The motion of the car put me to sleep curled up in my cage. The next thing I knew I was being carried in Master Red's strong arms. There were no chains on me anymore, and I was still dressed in the small cartoon undies. I blinked and looked up at the man, who smiled down at me. I smiled up at him and he kissed my nose. As he laid me down onto a comfortable bed, he said, "You have a reddish glow in your blond hair, darling boy. I think I'll call you Pumpkin. Will you be a good slaveboy for your master, Pumpkin?" "Y-yes, Master, I'll try." His first order was for me to undress him. When I peeled off Master's shirt, I was startled by how hairy his chest was. I had never seen a man with such thick red hair all over, even on his shoulders and his back -- it was a slightly different shade from the red of his thick beard. I tossed his shirt on the floor and he grabbed my hand and made me look in his eyes, "That will be ten smacks for not folding your Master's clothes correctly." "S-sorry, sir," I said as I picked up his shirt and did my best to fold it neatly. "You will learn, boy," the man said as he pushed me to the floor so I could take off his shoes and socks. As a game he had me pull off his sheer black socks with my teeth. Even the tops of this man's toes were hairy, and his feet smelled of sweat. I followed his orders to suck on each toe and then to lick the stinking gunk between each of his toes. My tongue felt raw and rancid after sucking and cleaning all ten of my Master's toes. My hands were shaking as I undid his belt and peeled down his trousers. There was a huge tent in the front of the man's crisp white boxer shorts, with a spreading wet spot on the fabric. Before I could fold Master Red's pants, he grabbed me by the hair and pulled my face up against the front of his boxers. My tongue was on the patch of wetness as he grunted, "Back when you were a free boy, did you know this was the effect you had on certain men, little Pumpkin?" "N-no, M-master," was all I could muster. He chuckled and told me to take down his boxers with my teeth. It was an effort pulling the fabric of his underpants far enough away from his body to free his massive penis. It sprang up and slapped me in the face. There was a spray of pre-cum -- some got in my eyes, some splashed in my mouth. He flopped back onto the bed with his legs spread wide. "Clean my balls, Pumpkin," he commanded. I looked around for water or cloth to wash him and he burst out laughing. "Use your tongue, slaveboy." My tongue made contact with his hairy balls and slurped up his thick coating of sweat. With Master Red's guidance, I took one of the large balls in my mouth and sucked on it. Then turned my attention to the other one. He pushed my head down to lick behind his balls. My neck tensed and I resisted as he pushed my face toward his hairy assshole. I could smell his ass and didn't want my mouth to come in contact. He grabbed me by the hair and pulled me up, forcing me to look in his face. "Some masters believe in whipping a slaveboy's ass as soon as they get him home. They want to break the boy's spirit and force him to accept his new status." Master must have seen the fear in my eyes, because he continued, "Don't worry, little Pumpkin. I think it's obscene to mark up a perfect white little ass like yours with whip marks. Only a fool would destroy the value of a fresh piece of slaveflesh like you." Then he pulled me over his lap. I felt the wetness of his cockhead press against my abs. My own erection was pressed into Master Red's hairy thigh. Without warning his big hand slapped down on my exposed ass. I yelled out more from surprise than from pain. Then he rained down four more smacks just on my left ass cheek. Before I had time to recover, his large hand was smacking my right buttcheek four times in a row. Then he took a pause. I wondered whether the punishment was over. He teased the tender flesh on my behind, tickling me with his fingertips. And then just as I was relaxing, he smacked both cheeks even harder. I lost count but now the pain of each hand spank was more intense. He was punishing flesh that had already been reddened by repeated smacks. He pushed me to the floor and stood over me. "You are adorable. You are sweet. But you are a slaveboy, little Pumpkin." My voice cracked as I said, "I am a s-s-slaveboy, Master. I am your slaveboy, sir." He lifted my face to his crotch and rubbed his dripping cockhead on my lips. "Stick out your tongue and get all that nice cream." I lapped up his pre-cum obediently. Then he was pushing the thick tool into my mouth. At first he just eased the head of his cock between my lips. But each time he pushed in he forced more of the thick meat into my throat. Soon I felt his thick patch of reddish pubes going up my nostrils. His moist balls were grinding into my chin. And then he stopped facefucking me and lifted me onto the bed with him. I was wrapped in his powerful arms, my face against his hairy broad chest. Without thinking about what I was doing, I started kissing and licking his chest. He had a big hand between my legs and was fingering my butthole, working his way deeper as his fingertip explored my insides. I had never before had anything invade my ass and was surprised by the way it made me feel. There was a tingling sensation that went all through me. My smooth legs were lifted over his shoulders and he looked down into my face. He kissed me gently on the lips and then he kissed me harder. He pushed his tongue deep into my mouth and my tongue pushed back against his. I felt his broad cockhead press against my virgin hole and I tensed up from fear. "Nobody ever did this to you before, boy?" "N-no, M-master." He licked my ear and grunted, "Call me Daddy tonight." "Oh, Daddy," I moaned and somehow my anus seemed to wrap itself around his thick cock. Just the head was inside me, but he rolled his hips to the left and right to spread me open and then he pushed another inch into me. "Does Pumpkin wanna be Daddy's best boy?" The man planted kisses all over my face. "Yes, Daddy," I nearly shouted and felt my body pulling in more inches of his huge penis. I can't explain what was happening to me. I had always thought of myself as a straight boy. I never fantasized about sex with a male, and certainly never imagined any erotic charge from taking a fat cock in my ass, but something about this man and what he was doing to me changed all that. My own father had been a weak man, mild-mannered and intimidated by the world. But Master Red was a powerful Daddy who commanded my respect. It seemed right that my ass was his property. "I need you inside me, Daddy!" Now I was the one planting kisses on his bearded face. I felt him shift his body as the rest of his cock went all the way in me. I felt his hairy bush against my tender balls, and felt his big hairy balls slap on my smooth round cheeks. Master Red started to fuck my ass as he kissed me passionately. The sliding in and out of my hole sent an electrical charge all through my body. He was dripping sweat on me and his hands were touching me everywhere. As he slammed his cock into me my body was rising up to meet his thrusts. He would push in and I would push myself up against his cock, as if my hole was hungry for more. His thrusts got faster and harder and finally he slammed hard and froze. It felt as if his thick cock had expanded even more and then it pulsed and shot cream deep inside me. Over and over there were loads of cream that filled me up, so much so that it was dripping out of my hole. I fell asleep with Daddy Red's cock inside my asshole. I had sweet dreams that night. All my fears about slavery seemed to vanish. I would serve my Master, my Daddy, and he would be good to me. Even the harsh spanking I had received felt justified and sexy to me as I dreamed of being wrapped in strong hairy arms, my face deep in the fur of Master Red's chest. When I woke up I was alone in the small room. I got up and tried the door, but it was locked. I looked out the narrow window and saw a little garden below. The door opened and a slaveboy entered with a tray of food. He was jut a little taller than me and looked close to my age, but he was dark-haired and his skin was deeply tanned. He wore a slavejock made out of fabric that was practically see through. He introduced himself as Chico and laid down a tray with some energy bars and a big pile of fresh fruit. I told him my name was Cody, and he corrected me. "Your name is Pumpkin. Cody doesn't exist anymore, dude." "I was expecting slave chow and also everything I've seen about slave quarters was...." "Yeh," Chico replied. "We got much nicer rooms than most slaves. Also Master believes that fresh fruit and vegetables is healthy for us, gives us clearer skin and healthier bodies. So we eat better than most slaveboys." I tore into the fruit hungrily, it was all so sweet and ripe. "Where is Daddy...? I mean... ummmm, Master?" "Our Master is a very important and busy man." I suppose Chico could see the way my shoulders slumped with disappointment. "Listen, dude, don't expect anything special from Master Red." I wanted to tell him that he was mistaken, that Master Red had loved me so tenderly the night before and had made me feel protected and warm. I knew there was something special between me and our Master. As I finished up eating, Chico was rubbing the front of his slavejock and I could see his shaved cock growing bigger. It was longer and much thicker than my dick. He pushed down the jock in front and said, "Master says your mouth needs more training, Pumpkin. He says we all need to help you suck cock better." I looked at the Mexican boy's thick penis with disdain. I didn't desire it the way I had desired Master Red's impressive tool. As Chico came closer I turned my face away. "You gotta learn, slaveboy." He pulled my face toward him and rubbed his dripping cock back and forth on my lips. His tool was so brown against my pink flesh. When I parted my lips and took the head on my tongue I thought I was going to gag. This wasn't what I had experienced the night before with the powerful man who had purchased me. This time I felt like a slaveboy, like the straight boy I had been but now forced to suck on a stiff brown cock. Chico's hips were moving slowly feeding me cock and then pulling back before feeding me more. He caressed my face and said, "Damn, I see why Master bought you. You got that really pretty kinda young-looking face. Makes my dick stiff just seeing your lips stretched wide around it." I was gagging each time he shoved the full length of his erection deep into my throat. But he kept on riding my face like that. "I know what you're going through, dude. I was a straight boy when Master bought me. But you gotta learn to take dick. I'm going easy on you, but some of the customers ain't gonna be nearly so gentle." I pulled off his cock and looked up at him as I asked, "Customers?" "Don't pay attention to nothing I say. I don't know what I'm talking about. Just suck my stiff cock, Pumpkin boy." With that he started to fuck my face. He didn't care about the choking sounds I made. He just kept on going. Finally he grabbed the back of my head and pressed himself hard into me. His flat stomach was up against my nose so I couldn't breathe. His cock was pumping loads of cream down my throat. I had to swallow the warm liquid. Chico then had me roll over. I was afraid he was going to use my ass as well, but all he wanted to do was put some cream on my hole to help it heal. Then he took me to an elevator and down to a basement level gym where I went through a two-hour workout. The machines had been programmed for certain weights and reps. If I didn't complete all the exercises to the machine's demands I would feel an electric shock rush through my body. I begged Chico to set the weights lower, but he said it had all been determined by Master Red and nobody contradicted Master Red. As the days progressed I got to know Chico. He wouldn't answer questions about this house or what my duties would be as a slave, but he was happy to share his story. It seems his family was kicked out of the country and sent back to Mexico, but his mother wanted to find a way for him to stay in the United States. She placed him with a nice man who promised the protect the boy. But as soon as his family was out of the country he was sold to Master Red, who promptly plowed his straight boy ass. I was curious about some things in Chico's story, but he wouldn't tell me how long he had been enslaved or how old he had been when Master Red first broke him in. This only made his story seem even creepier. My suspicions mounted during the week and it turned out I wasn't in Master Red's house, but in a place of business. Friday night I would learn the true nature of that business and of my job as a slaveboy. Chico brought me a small jockstrap and one of my old gymnastics uniforms that was tight on me. "You understand that slaveboys must always tell the truth to free men, right?" Chico explained. I nodded my understanding as I tried to squeeze into the snug shorts. Then the Mexican boy continued, "But if your Master orders you to say something, that takes priority. You understand that, right?" "What's all this about?" I asked, feeling apprehensive. "You are a virgin up the butt." I shook my head and said, "I was until a few days ago when Master took me...." "No!" he snapped forcefully. "Master says you are a virgin up the butt. If you are asked that question then that is what you say. The cream I've put on your anus each day since then has left you tighter than you were before your enslavement." There was a twisted feeling in the pit of my stomach. I still didn't know what was going on, but I just nodded and said, "I understand." This was the first time I was seeing the ground floor of the building. There was a massive hall crowded with men and slaveboys. Although I had never seen the inside of a boy brothel I knew immediately what this was. Some slaveboys were in briefs or slavejocks and some were naked. While some of the boys moved around the room serving drinks and canapés, others were seated in the laps of these older men or toying with them in various ways. There was no sucking or fucking in this room. That was reserved for private rooms. My stomach sank as I was led up to a platform in the middle of the room. My hands were chained above my head and I was lifted up so my feet barely touched the floor. This was the first time I saw Master Red since the night he had fucked me. He looked very manly dressed in black leather as he introduced me to the crowd. Beside me was a big video screen flashing images of me in gymnastics competitions and then the week before when I'd been shaved and auctioned at the Gaytown Slave Hall. Was this another auction so soon? Master Red pushed up my tight t-shirt and showed my abs and pecs. Then he tugged down the back of my gym shorts and smacked my ass as all the men laughed. He didn't bother showing my dick -- that was not of interest to this crowd. But he did point to images of me doing gymnastics and asked the crowd, "How would you like to have the boy hold that pose with your dick up his ass?" The crowd gave an appreciative response. "Tonight, we are auctioning off this boy's cherry ass!" I knew he was lying. He had taken my virginity himself. But he knew what he was selling and who he was selling it to. When he came close to me and licked my ear, grunting, "You'll be a good little straight virgin boy, won't you, Pumpkin?" I whispered, "P-please, D-daddy. I l-love you." He smacked me hard across the face and his eyes were blazing with anger as he said, "You call me Master! Understand that, slaveboy?" I sobbed softly as I mumbled, "Y-yes, sir, M-master." The man who won me that night was a muscular business executive in an expensive silk suit. He was out with some associates celebrating his promotion at work and decided to treat himself to a virgin slaveboy ass. He fucked me roughly and it was a very different experience for me from the night I had spent with Master Red. This time I felt like a straight boy with a cock forced deep up inside me. The second night I was dressed in an old fashioned schoolboy outfit, with short pants, high socks, white shirt and tie. I was stripped down to white briefs right onstage and another man fucked my ass. It's hard for me to differentiate the different men -- there were so many. For the next month I was only fucked by one client each night, although others could pay to use me for handjobs or blowjobs. I became good at sucking cock, although I hated doing it. One man who became a regular was Mr. Conroy, obese and in his 60s. He brought along clothes for me to wear, white briefs with jeans and a t-shirt. It felt strange for me to be dressed like a normal teen boy. But then Mr. Conroy revealed that these were his grandson's clothes and that he had paid so much because I looked just like his grandson. He sat me on his lap and made out with me, tongue kissing and feeling me up, his hands going up under the shirt and down into the back of the jeans. He kept me dressed as he pushed me onto my belly and tugged my pants and briefs just down to my thighs. Then he pulled his cock out of his fly and shoved it hard into my asshole without any lube or preparation. Although I had started to get used to taking cocks up my butt, I screamed out from the suddenness and pain. "Oh, hell yeah, little Timmy. Grandpa gets so boned when I see your cute little straight boy ass in those tight jeans you wear, I just havta shove my filthy old man cock into your hole, boy." I followed the man's commands and just kept moaning, "Grandpa, it hurts. Grandpa, I'm a straight boy. Please don't make me take your big cock, Grandpa." He was biting hard on my shoulder as his cock shot hot cream deep inside me. My clothes and his were all soaked through with sweat. When the old man pulled out of my hole he seemed embarrassed to even look at me. He left quickly. But he came back often and usually brought some of his grandson's clothes with him. My illusion that Master Red loved me and wanted to be a Daddy to me was quickly shattered. I was a brothel slave and my job was to give pleasure to men. When I was rented out for a fraternity celebration, Master Red warned the boys that any damage to the property (he meant me) would mean some of them would be enslaved. I could tell by the way he was looking at them that he was already assessing which ones he wanted. They did not damage me, but they taught me how to drink piss. Then one morning I was shackled and placed in a shipping crate. There was no chance to say goodbye to Chico or the other slaveboys I'd met there. And Master Red never said another word directly to me after that first night. After a bumpy journey, the crate was pulled apart and I found myself in a boy brothel in Las Vegas. "You've moved up in the world, Pumpkin," the head slave said to me. "This is one of the top boy brothels in the country." It didn't make a difference to me. The owners were raking in even higher profits each time a man shot his cream up my ass or down my throat. But I was still servicing a succession of cocks, and wasn't even fed as well as I had been at Master Red's brothel. I soon learned that Las Vegas clubs relied on turnover and slaveboys didn't stay there more than a year. One year later I was shipped to a brothel in Seattle, and my final year as a slaveboy was at a brothel in Bayonne, New Jersey. I had reached the heights and then went back down again. When my five year indenture ended, I was given $500 and sent to a half-way house for transitioning slaves. They placed me in a culinary arts program to learn to cook, but I saw little point in that -- cooking and baking was all done by slaves. They tried to teach me office skills, but I had trouble sitting still. There were certain underground clubs that catered to released slaves. I had desired females back when I was in high school and I tried to connect with some of the women in these clubs. But nothing worked out. Sometimes there were guys who hadn't been slaves but would come to clubs like these to try to get blowjobs from former slaveboys. I sucked some of their filthy cocks out in the alleys for a fraction of what my Masters had once charged. It just didn't feel right being a free boy. They say some boys can't adapt back to freedom. I looked up Mr. Conroy, the man who wanted me to dress as his grandson. He was willing to take me as a lifetime indenture. I moved into his palatial home. In the bedroom he liked me to dress in young boy clothes, often having sex with me clothed. But around the house I wore standard slave shorts or jocks with a tunic. Soon after I began serving Master Conroy, I met his grandson who was now 18. Now he was a strapping college jock, much taller and more muscular than I was. But the boy was a spoiled brat who mostly enjoyed pissing on my face. Meanwhile the grandfather was everything I dreamed of having in a Master. He was tender and loving to me. His sex drive wasn't all that high, but he would caress me and hold me to his hairy chest at night. That's what I wanted. He assured me that he had written a will that freed me upon his death and would leave me some money so I could start my life over anyway I chose. I came to love the fat old man. I lived with him and serviced his needs for the final four years of his life. When he died the family claimed there was no provision in the will to free me or to leave me any money. His grandson had just graduated from college at the time and he took charge of selling me. I was nearly 30, but still had my boyish looks and my tight gymnast's body. A slave is not told anything. Nobody bothered telling me about my sale. It was only when I was placed in a special crate, one designed for long distance travel, that I realized I would be leaving the country. The slaves were hammering the crate together when one asked, "Lagos, where's that?" The other voice replied, "Africa. They say they got the nicest boy brothel in that part of the continent. Those big African cocks are gonna love this little blond here." I took a deep breath. I knew by then that I was meant to be a slaveboy, meant to service the cocks and bodies of free men. I was prepared for my fate. # # # (To Be Continued -- with conclusions of Russell and Wally's stories) for comments or compliments r -- e -- d -- b -- e -- a -- r -- d -- e -- d -- s -- f at y a h o o dot com