Date: Sat, 10 Jan 2004 07:26:27 -0800 (PST)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Willing Slave, Parts 13&14

THE WILLING SLAVE, Part 13

By Pete Brown     petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

Read all of Pete's stories at
groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories

The tattooist worked away all that afternoon but still
hadn't finished.  The vet told me that he had agreed
with my owner that I should stay there that night as
it wasn't worth my running home, and he showed me to
one of the small rooms that were there for patients
who needed to stay overnight.

It was a long time since I'd known the luxury of
sleeping in a room by myself without the constant
background noise of other guys breathing, farting, and
making all those little cries and half-moans that they
do when they're sleeping and dreaming.  It would have
been even better if I'd been able to jerk off, but I
was still bandaged, so I just had to lie there and try
to sleep without doing so.

It was funny showering in the morning without another
naked slave next to me, too, although the vet did come
and watch me.  "It's good to be able to see a really
'in shape' guy like you", he told me.  "So many of the
slaves I get in here are ill or injured, that it's a
real pleasure to be able to observe muscles like
yours.  After you're out, help yourself to slave chow,
and then go back to the tattooist, where you were
yesterday.... I'm afraid he's got a lot more to do
yet!"  It was nice to be treated like a regular guy by
the vet, and I suppose it cheered me up a bit to know
that he wasn't exactly in agreement to what my owner
was doing to me.

So I had another day lying there on my belly as he
worked away, and by the end of  the afternoon I had
ceased to feel anything - the incessant pricking of
the needle had so dulled all the nerves in my back
that I no longer noticed the discomfort caused by the
tattooing.

The guy was really proud of his work, though, and
looked admiringly at me.  He told me to stand in front
of the tall mirror, then held up a hand mirror so I
could see what he'd done.  Right across my shoulders,
stretching from side to side, I now bore the word
"Slave".  Half way down my back, with the bottom of
the letters touching the top of my ass crack, was
"Steve".  But, if these were not enough, the most
striking feature was the huge design, in mixed green
and black, which now swirled all around these words,
covering my back and shoulders, and extending down my
arms as far as my elbows.  It was the kind of "kelp"
design of large leaf-like things, and two tendrils
went on past the "Steve" above my ass to trail down
onto my ass cheeks themselves.  From the back, I was
completely decorated, I realised, but from the front
the only hint of this would be the signs of the design
on my biceps.

He slapped me appreciatively on my ass, and told me to
get back to the vet's office.

The vet, too, took a long look at me and whistled
softly in amazement.  "Well, It's certainly striking,
Steve.  People will certainly remember that they've
seen you, and so I suppose that your owner has got his
money's worth - people will talk about the way he uses
a slave!  But, as I said, he's almost destroyed your
value for any other job, so I guess you're a pony for
life:  no one would find the prospect of having sex
with you very attractive - or, at least, they wouldn't
be prepared to pay money for it in one of the sex
shops, where they could get 'conventional'
good-looking studs instead.  Never mind, though - you
like being a pony, don't you?"

Again, although I didn't like the subject matter of
the conversation, I warmed to the vet who was at least
trying to have a regular conversation with me.  I kind
of half grinned, and replied
"Sir, yes, sir - that's what I've been trained for."

"Just as well.   Now, sit on the edge of my examining
table, and let's take a look at that dick of yours."

I did as he'd told me, and he gently removed the
bandage from my dick.  I was used to seeing my dick
head, of course, but the rest of my dick was a bit of
a shock - there was a big scab, but the oddest thing
was the colour:  from behind my flange, to where the
scar started about half way down my dick, the skin was
a much, much lighter pink.

The vet gently examined me, and commented "Well,
that's fine.  The scab will drop off after a couple of
days, and there wont' be any unsightly scarring as I
did a very  clean cut with an exceedingly sharp
scalpel.  I'm sure your owner will be pleased... It
doesn't still hurt, does it?"

"Sir, no, sir.  But.... Sir, can I ask.....?"

"Yes, Steve?"

"Sir, is it going always to be a different colour,
sir?"

"Oh, that.  Well, it's all pink at the moment as it's
not usually exposed to the air or anything.  It will
darken, of course, and it will be quite like your
normal dick colour.  But haven't you looked closely at
other 'skinned guys?  Often the part behind the head
is a paler colour than the rest of it - it's quite
normal, and nothing to worry about."

Well I hadn't really looked at other guys' dicks in
that level of detail, actually.  Where I was brought
up, you didn't do that sort of thing.  And I'd never
been one for looking at pictures of naked guys on my
brothers' PCs.  Still, the vet seemed to know what he
was talking about, and I supposed I'd have to wait and
see what happened.

The vet didn't put the bandage back on again, but gave
me a jockstrap to wear under my slave shorts to jog
home in, saying that it wasn't a good idea to let my
dick rub against the fabric of the shorts until  I was
completely healed.  It felt so odd running like that -
I suppose I was used to "hanging free", unless I was
wearing the tiny silk pouch that my owner had decided
was to be my new uniform.

Back at home, the other slaves were still not speaking
to me, and they hardly looked at me as dressed in a T
and shorts I didn't look all that different from
usual.  But when I stripped off to get into bed in the
dorm that night, there were gasps of astonishment, and
they all clustered around to exclaim at what had been
done to me.  They even commented on my 'skinning, and
one of them said that I was "just like them", now, as,
in common with most slaves, they had all been 'skinned
at birth.

I saw Jack looking at me with the others, but he
didn't speak at all.  And I didn't much care - I
thought of pulling him into my bed again, but
remembered that I wasn't supposed to wank or fuck, and
so I just lay there and tried to sleep.

As we were all dressing the following morning, the
Overseer handed me a tiny silk pouch rather than
shorts and a T, and told me that my owner and Master
Scott were back, and that they wanted to inspect me.
I crossed the yard to the back entrance of the
mansion, and a serving slave escorted me through the
hallways and up the stairs to the suite that I
remembered as being the one the two men shared.

As we went along the corridor I caught a glimpse of
myself in a mirror, and saw that the tiny white silk
now really served only to emphasise the changes that
my owner had had done to me.  It was so thin at the
front that my dick, with it's thick flange, was
clearly outlined.  "Slave" and "Steve" stood out in
dark black on my front, and I knew that from the rear
the whole kelp pattern, and the words, would be
completely visible as there would only be the thin
string of the pouch providing any covering at all.  My
tit rings and nose ring glinted under the lights, and
I knew I was no longer just a pony designed for hard
work pulling a cart, but something else:  an object
that told the world that my owner was a rich man, a
man of power, someone who could totally discard the
value of a slave and have his body changed into
something totally out of the ordinary.

The two men were in bed together when I went in, their
naked torsos lying outside the sheets.  They ordered
me to stand close to the bed, and to turn around, and
Master Scott told my owner how pleased he was that
their design for my back had been executed so well.

"I thought we ought to wait and see the outline, have
him marked-up whilst we were there, and then leave the
inker to fill in the design.  But there was no need -
that tattooist really did a great job from the fax we
sent.  He's even more astonishing than that piebald
pony we saw the other week, and I do like the way
we've had his name spelled out like that, front and
back - somehow the strong clear lines of those big
black letters seems to contrast so well with the
tanned flesh that it makes him all the more sensual."

My owner looked at Master Scott and replied "Yes.  You
really  do have good ideas, Scott - I wouldn't have
thought of all that.  Mind you, it's probably cost me
a packet, in the loss of resale value...."

"Oh quit moaning about money.  Your dad can afford it
- he doesn't keep you short, does he?"

"Look, Scott, you know my dad's getting tougher.  He
gave me a year to make a go of our business, as he
really wants me to work for him.  And the year's
almost up, and although we've had all those meetings,
we still really haven't landed a contract..... He's
getting a bit terse with me, when you're not there.
And that's another thing - you know he doesn't totally
approve of you and me... And he especially doesn't
like you sleeping here and fucking me under his roof."

"Oh, tell him to go screw himself!  What does he
expect you to do?  Get a job that would make you
bored?  And if he doesn't like you living at home,
tell him to buy us an apartment in the city - it would
be a hell of a lot more convenient for the clubs and
bars...."

As he said this Master Scott turned towards Master
Jason and kissed him.  I could see their legs twined
together under the sheets, and almost got an erection
as I thought how my own dick felt when I was that
close to Jack.  I also thought that their problems
were as nothing to mine - they were thinking about
money and such like, when my body had been mutilated
by them:  I was now ringed and inked all over, just to
amuse them and to make a fashion statement.  Didn't
they think that I had feelings, or wanted to be
treated like a man, not like an object, even though I
was only a slave?

"Come closer, slave, and take that pouch off. Let's
see how well the vet performed", my owner now said,
and I took a couple of paces towards the two men as
they lay there.  I fumbled with the thin silk strings
on the pouch, pushed it down, and stepped out of it as
it lay in a crumpled heap on the floor.

Master Scott reached out and took hold of my dick,
holding it in the palm of his hand and rubbing his
thumb up and down it.

"It's a really good job, Jase.  Take a closer look -
there's no sign of a scar, and I can't feel anything
as I finger the shaft."

Master Scott's stroking of my dick had made me start
to go erect, though, and he looked up at my eyes as he
continued to massage me.  His gaze fixed mine, and I
knew he was now doing it deliberately, gently tickling
the exposed frenulum in a way that made me go rock
solid, and to make me want to pull myself back from
him as the sensation was too severe.  A small smile
played over his lips as he went on "He's got it right
about the amount of skin, too.  There's always a
potential problem with a 'high and tight' 'skinning as
we decided on - I've heard that some slaves never
manage to get a full erection again, or, if they do,
that it's really painful.  But this one's fine - this
erection is just the same as I remember it when he
took part in our games recently."

As he said this he turned and kissed my owner again,
and as his body twisted around the sheet fell slightly
away so I could see his back and the top of his ass -
he was naked in bed, not even wearing boxers.

So which of us is going to fuck him first?", he
continued.

"Oh, Scott, do we have to?  I'd rather fuck with you
that take the slave."

"Look, Jase, we've been all through this - when you
have a fantastic hunk of man flesh like this, you have
to fuck it to keep it properly in its place.  You've
had the slave 'skinned and decorated so that he
understands that you're totally in control of his body
and his life, but you do need to reinforce it from
time to time by fucking him.  It's especially
important in this case, as the Overseer tells me that
the slave has taken to fucking in a big way - the
slave is turning into an aggressive, dominant top.  So
if you and I take him forcibly occasionally, it will
be doubly satisfactory:  it's always amusing to fuck
an ass that doesn't want to take a dick, and you're
sending him the message very clearly about who's in
charge!"

"I suppose you're right, Scott."  As he said this, my
owner threw aside the sheet and got to his feet.  I
was surprised to see that he wasn't at all concerned
about being naked in front of me - I'd never seen his
body before as it wasn't usual for masters to display
themselves in front of slaves (well, except bath
slaves and such like, I suppose.  But I wasn't an
"indoor" slave, and so had no experience of this).  He
didn't have a bad body - quite lean and in good shape
for a man who was not involved in hard manual labour
as I was - and I suppose his dick was an average sort
of size, too.  He strode off to the bathroom , didn't
bother to close the door, and  I could hear his piss
hosing down into the water.

Meanwhile, master Scott just lay there, still looking
at me, but now exposed as my owner had pulled the
sheet totally aside.  He didn't have a bad body,
either, for a master, and he was stroking his dick,
making it start to go erect.  It was as if he was
deliberately exposing himself to me, so that I could
see the size of his erect dick (which, actually, was
above average). My owner came back and saw him, and
idly commented "Do I take it you want first fuck,
Scott?"

"No, he's your slave - you go first, Jase....."

My owner looked at me, and started to play with his
dick.  "OK, Steve, this is as good a place as any.
Face down on the bed, ass over the edge, and spread
your legs...."

"Master, I...."

"Just do it, you fucking slave!  Do I have to order
you twice?  Lie on the bed with your ass over the
edge, so I can fuck you.  Is that so hard to
understand, or do you intend to disobey me?  I think
Master Scott's right - you are getting into bad habits
for a slave, questioning his owner's orders!"

Now although Jack had fucked me and it hadn't been
bad, since then I'd learned the pleasure of having my
dick up an ass I really didn't want to be fucked.  In
fact, looking at my owner, I thought I might get quite
a lot of satisfaction from forcing him down on the
bed, kicking his legs apart, and thrusting myself into
him!  But then I stopped - what the hell was I doing?
I was a slave, a well trained slave, and not only was
I not obeying my master, but I was actually thinking
about taking an initiative and doing something to my
master that would pleasure me but which I knew he
would hate!  I flushed with shame at the thoughts
going through my mind, and at once went and stretched
my body out over the foot of the bed as I had been
ordered to.

It felt soft under my chest - our beds in the dorm
were hard - and I reached forward with my arms to lay
them out flat, too.  My fingers probed into the
softness of the material covering the mattress, and I
enjoyed the sensation.

My owner's calves brushed against mine, and his hand
lay on my ass for an instant, until it moved and
started to push my ass crack apart.

"Don't just lie there, slave", Master Scott snapped at
me.  "Get your hands back there and pull your ass
apart to make it easy for your master to enter you!
Don't they teach you anything at slave school these
days?"

Well, actually they didn't teach me things like this.
I suppose the slaves destined to be indoor servants
might have learned it, but usually there was no need
to teach it to pony slaves, was there?   A master
wouldn't usually want to fuck his pony.

I could feel my owner's dick pressing at my hole, and
in spite of my hating the idea of being fucked, I was
excited somehow - I guess it's always the sheer
closeness of another man to you at times like this
that's a bit of a turn-on - anyway, my body was
responding, as my own dick was hard and it was quite
uncomfortable for me as it was sandwiched between by
belly and the bed.

Fortunately my owner must have been leaking pre-cum,
as he made no other attempt to lube me - he just
pushed at me until he was through my sphincter - no
attempt to loosen me or massage me, or anything - just
the slow, steady insistent pressure of his dick
against my hole, until he was in. I know I gave a
little groan of pain as it happened, but once he was
in, he was really quite gentle, rocking ever so slowly
in and out of me so that I had time to adjust to him
naturally.  I almost enjoyed it, and gave little
grunts of satisfaction in time to his gentle thrusts.

It seemed to go on for ages, and Master Scott just sat
there on the edge of the bed looking on.  Occasionally
he reached over and played with my owner's tits, and
then Master Jase would moan with pleasure, and thrust
a little harder into me.  I guess Master Jase was,
basically, a gentle person, as his fucking went on and
on in this same, rather languorous way - until he
cried out "Yes..... Yes..... Yes.....",

Unlike most other guys who fuck, as soon as he'd cum
he pulled out of me rather than lying forward to press
his body into mine, and he walked off to the bathroom
to wash his dick.

I went to stand up, but Master Scott snapped "Who told
you to move, slave?  I thought you were meant to be a
well-trained slave..... And don't such slaves wait to
be ordered, rather than taking action for themselves?"

It was just as well my face was still pressed into the
bed as he said this, as I started to flush with
embarrassment - he was right, of course, and I knew
it!  I'd forgotten my slave training again, and I
prided myself on being a good, obedient, slave.

"I think you need reminding of your status, slave",
Master Scott continued.  "You were just going to get a
good fucking from me, but I think I can kill two birds
with one stone now:  I can punish you to remind you of
your proper place, and the punishment will make you
all the more.... the more 'receptive'.... shall we
say?"

My owner had come back from the bathroom now, and
Master Scott said "Hey, Jase... Do you mind if I
punish this slave a bit, first?"

"Does he need it, Scott - my dad always says that you
should only punish them when they really need it....."

"When are you going to get out from under the shadow
of your dad, Jase?  Don't you ever think for yourself?
 This is your slave, not your father's.  If you want
to punish him, punish him - even if he's done nothing
wrong!  Part of the pleasure of owning a big tough
hunk of man flesh like this is to be able to thrash it
every now and then, just because it amuses you.....
like this..."

I almost cried out as one of Master Scott's trainers
slammed into my naked ass.  Scott was a big, powerful
man and he wielded the shoe with considerable force.
It was totally unexpected, and I'd never felt anything
like it before - the initial 'crack' as the sole of
the trainer hit my hard muscle, followed by the
stinging pain as it spread all through me.  I had
managed to stifle my noise, but I was unable to stop
my reflexes from causing my body to jerk upwards off
the bed slightly, before crashing down.  I got another
hurt then, as my hard dick slammed into the mattress,
but again I managed to stifle my cry.

He carried on hitting at my ass, and he seemed very
experienced at it as he struck one cheek and then the
other, and moved the site of the blows up and down
from the base of my spine to the top of my thighs.  I
had to really bite my teeth together to stop shouting,
and I managed to control my body after the unexpected
first blow so that I did at least lie there and take
it like a man.

He struck at me sixteen times in all, and then he
stopped.  His breathing was very laboured from all the
effort he'd put into it, and he almost muttered to my
owner "There, Jase - see the pattern of the soles on
his flesh?  It looks good, all bright red like that,
doesn't it?"

"Scott, he will be able to run, won't he?  We've got
to go into town today...."

"Oh sure - he'll be, shall we say, 'uncomfortable'.
And they'll look at him even more closely as the marks
of this beating will still be on him.... People will
know we've punished him, and will know that he's a
wilful slave and not a docile trained one.... But
he'll be able to run.  It's just that his ass will be
aching, and he'll remember who's his boss."

"Now..... it's my turn to fuck him.... And that's
going to be good, too, as he's properly 'tenderised'
and as I slam into him, hell get all sorts of
sensations....."

"Don't you want to clean him out first, Scott?  My
cum's leaking out of him..."

"Don't be so silly - it's only your cum and I'm used
to that!  You've stretched him and lubed him.... Now
let me show you how you fuck a bit muscle stud like
this properly...."

Well, Master Scott's fucking wasn't anything at all
like my owner's!  He wasn't slow, he wasn't gentle.
He just forced his dick in, and then fucked away -
hard, very hard.  His pubic bone smashed into my
tender ass over and over, and he was right - I was
tender, and sore from the thrashing, so every time he
made contact with me I hurt double.  I could hear the
'"slap", "slap", "slap" noise as his flesh collided
with mine, and each time I got a fresh wave of
sensation through me.  But fortunately it didn't last
for long, and Master Scott was soon shouting out in
ecstasy as he shot his load up me, and pulled out.

I just lay there, sore and aching.  I wanted to almost
sob into the bed as I was so "down" - I was hurting, I
was aching, but , worst of all, I felt completely
"used" by the way the two men had just fucked me:
they hadn't thought a bit about what I wanted or
needed - I was just a piece of meat, a hole to be used
for their dicks.

"That's one great fuck we've got", Master Scott said
to my owner, panting and gasping as he did from the
huge effort he'd put in.  "I don't know why we haven't
used his hole before - but I think that's all going to
change from now on......"

"But Scott, we've got each other...."

"Of course, Jase......  You know I wouldn't go off and
fuck another guy, as we're together.  But this is a
slave, and that doesn't really count, does it?  We're
partners, right?  But a bit of variety is a good thing
in any partnership.... of course I love fucking you,
but a dick needs a bit of variety, if only to keep it
fresh.  I'd never fuck one of our friends, or a guy I
picked up in a bar, whilst we're together.... But this
isn't a man, it's a slave.  Different rules apply -
it's not as if I care about him, like I do for you:
he's just there to be used, to provide a bit of fun.
And, anyway, it's something we can do together - you
liked fucking him too, didn't you?"

"Well, yes, it was all right.... But you know I'm not
really into fucking, Scott.  I love your dick in me,
but...."

"Look, Jase, don't be stupid!  I know you prefer to
bottom, but you've got responsibilities, too.  When
you own a slave, particularly one who's getting beyond
himself, like this one, you need to show him who's the
boss every now and then.  This buck never expected you
to take him up the ass, and so he started to let his
training slip, and started to act as if he was a man,
not a slave!  If he knows that he's going to be beaten
and fucked regularly by you and me, it will make him
think twice about his actions."

"I suppose you're right, Scott.  But he's been such a
good slave up until now.... I don't know why he's
changed."

"It's sex, Jase.  That's the way of the world.   He
used to be docile and obedient, and I guess he just
wanked himself every night.  But the Overseer told us
that he's started fucking the other slaves, and that's
what changed. Now he's discovered proper sex, he
thinks he's like you and me, a master, in control of
those men.  So you need to teach him a lesson, remind
him of who's really in charge. "

"I suppose you're right, Scott.  You usually are.
But we'd better get a move on - we've got an
appointment in the City."

The two men went off into the bathroom, and I could
hear them laughing and joking as they showered
together, and shaved.  I wondered what to do - I hated
lying there, my ass aching, my dick trapped, and with
their cum tricking out of my hole (I could feel little
warm rivulets of it running down the inside of my
thighs).  But I remembered that when I'd gone to stand
up a few minutes ago without permission, Master Scott
had used this as the trigger to punish me.  So I just
lay there, and felt utterly miserable, and reflected
on how my life really now seemed to be taking a turn
for the worse.

The two men dressed, utterly ignoring me lying there,
and I heard their morning discussion and the little
jokes they shared - it was rather like the way my
brothers and I used to treat each other in the morning
as they got ready for school and college: they were
great guys, and didn't treat me any differently just
because I was going off to slave school.  Remembering
my former family life made me even sadder and more
unhappy, and I was really down.

As they left to go down to breakfast, my owner
remembered me.  "OK, Steve... You can get up. You may
as well shower here, and get cleaned up.  Be outside,
waiting for us, in twenty minutes."

"No, Jase!", Master Scott interrupted.  "Never let the
slave think that he's a man like you, not even for a
moment.  Of course he can't use our bathroom - they
have showers in the slave quarters."

"Yes, Scott... But there's hardly time.... And he's
got to clean out all our cum...."

"Look, we've just fucked him and thrashed him.  I want
him to think on about that all day, so there's no
point in him taking a shower.."

"You, slave", he snapped, turning to me. "Wipe that
ass juice and cum off your thighs, put your G on, and
get out the front and wait for Master Jason and me."

I ran my hands up the inside of my thighs, and they
were soon coated with the stinking mixture of cum and
my ass juice.  The men made no effort to give me any
cloth, or anything, so I just had to rub my hands
together to try to dry them.  The stench of my ass
juice assaulted my nose, and I felt utterly
humiliated.

"Stop pratting around, slave", Master Scott snapped
again.  "Get that G on, and get out."

I pulled the tiny pouch up my legs and covered my
balls and dick as best I could, and went out, through
the house to the yard.  I collected my cart, knelt
whilst the Overseer hurried over and forced the
hateful bit into my mouth, and went around to the
front to wait for my owner and Master Scott.  I didn't
have long to wait as they soon came out.

"A really fast run to the tram stop, Steve", my owner
said "We're a bit late, and we have an appointment."

That wasn't good enough for Master Scott, of course -
even though, with my master's command  I would have
run flat out, he had to "encourage" me with the thin
whip that was now a permanent feature of the use of
the trap.  And it hurt even more than usual - I'd got
used to the sting as it slashed across my back, ass
and thighs as being part of my normal life. But as it
touched my ass that was still hurting from the
thrashing I'd been given, it now hurt even more and I
flinched with the pain.

It was hateful at the tram stop, too, as I could see
all the other owners and ponies looking at me:  I'd
have been enough of a sight with my tattoos and
wearing just my tiny pouch, but now I knew everyone
could see my ass flaming bright red from the beating
Master Scott had given me. They must all think that
I'd been a very wilful slave, deliberately disobeying
my owner, to receive a beating like that, and I hated
the idea that they'd all think I wasn't a proper
slave, with a good training.

After they'd got out of the trap I ran back home
really fast, too - not just because I wanted to avoid
the stares of the people in the streets, but because I
wanted to exhaust myself, to try to take away some of
my misery by sheer hard, physical effort.  I arrived
back covered in sweat, my heart racing, and my lungs
heaving as they sucked the air in.  Even though the
exercise hadn't made me feel all that much better, at
least the symptoms of the effort kept my mind from
harping on to how unfair it was for my owner and
Master Scott to treat me like this.

The Overseer was there to greet me, and he wrinkled
his nose a bit as he approached:  I realised that the
heat of my body and the sweat that was now pouring off
me had mixed with the cum and ass juice that I hadn't
succeeded in getting rid of from me, and was making
its presence felt!  I reeked of sex, and of unpleasant
bowel smells, and I blushed with shame as the Overseer
looked at me.

"You filthy animal!", he said.  "I'm not surprised
your Master Jason decided to beat you.  Haven't you
forgotten your training, that a proper salve keeps
himself neat and clean at all times?"

If the bit hadn't been pressing my tongue down I know
I'd have protested at the unfairness of it all - I
couldn't help being covered in ass juice and cum when
my owner didn't let me shower after he'd fucked me,
could I?   But perhaps it was as well that I was
silenced "mechanically" by the bit - a slave doesn't
argue with a master, does he, even when he knows he's
right?   Even as I thought this, I saw that I was
falling into another error - a slave can't "know he's
right":  he's there to obey, to serve.  Even if a
master is capricious and unthinking, it's not up to a
slave to even think critically of his behaviour.

"Get over to he vet's again", he went on.  "Your owner
had been on his cell phone from the tram, and has
arranged a little further decoration for you."

I  was already depressed and fed up, but as I heard
these words my spirits sank to a new low - hadn't they
done enough to turn me from a handsome,
regular-looking guy into a decorated beast?  What
could they have in store for me now?

End of Part 13.

THE WILLING SLAVE, Part 14

By Pete Brown     petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

Read all of Pete's stories at
groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories


The vet was his usual gloomy self when I arrived.
"Nothing for me to do to you today, Steve:, he told
me. "But your owner has hatched up something new with
the tattooist.  Although I can't see there's much more
can be added to you, with all that stuff over your
back and shoulders, and your decorated front.
Still... scoot along down to the room you were in last
time where he's waiting for you."

He wrinkled his nose then, and added "But you'd better
take a quick shower first - you stink unpleasantly,
and I don't want that smell filling my office."

I was so ashamed, even though it wasn't my fault - I
prided myself on being a proper, clean slave, and
being criticised like this, when I hadn't been given
the chance to clean myself up after I'd been fucked,
was almost more than I could bear.  But there was no
point in moping, I knew, and it was really good to
actually get clean in the vet's shower.

I entered the room where the tattooist was waiting
with some trepidation, as I hated being disfigured.
"Get that pouch off, and let me see your dick", he
snapped.

I wondered what on earth was going on, but I was here
at my owner's orders and so I had to obey.  I undid
the string holding the tiny satin triangle to me, and
stood there facing him, totally nude.

He reached out and took my dick in his hand, holding
it in his palm and stroking his thumb up and down it -
I resisted getting an erection with all my might.

"That vet did a good job 'skinning you", the tattooist
commented.  "But your owner's got some strange ideas -
I've never done this before.  Now, I need you to be
hard - get an erection."

He was continuing to stroke my dick as he said this,
and I felt it stir into life.  Even though I hated
being handled in this way, just as if I was some kind
of sex toy, my reflexes took over and I was soon rock
solid.

"Hmmm... ", the guy said.  "I can see why I've been
commissioned to do something.... All this fresh pink
skin behind the cock head really spoils the look of
you.  Now, get and lie on the table there, and I'll
start."

I did as I was told, and the tattooist drew up a chair
and sat beside me.  "I need you to stay erect whilst I
work on your dick", he said.  "If that's a problem for
you, I'll get the vet to come in a give you a shot of
Viagra, or something.  Do you think you can manage
it?"

"Sir, please sir.... You want me to hold an erection
whilst you work on me.... Are you going to be inking
something on my dick, sir?"

"You're exactly right, slave.  Your owner doesn't like
the contrast between your dark dick head, the pink of
the newly-exposed skin on your shaft, and the rest of
your dick.  So he's commissioned me to ink the whole
of your shaft, except the head!  It's going to be
turned a deep black, from the root, to the underside
of your flange.  But in order to do it properly, I
need it hard all the time - if you go limp on me, it
might look OK when you're not erect, but will be a bit
patchy when you're sporting an erection... And I guess
your owner likes to see you like that most of the
time, doesn't he?  Well, at least, I would, if I owned
a fine piece of man flesh like you - I'd have you
naked all the time."

I could tell I wasn't supposed to comment on my
owner's views, but I was concerned about staying
erect.  On he other hand, I didn't like the idea of
being drugged.  So I just said "Sir, I think I can
stay hard, sir.  And if I do start to flag and it
makes your job difficult, sir, I'm sure that if you
let me wank myself for a couple of moments it will go
stiff again, sir."

"But, sir, when you did my back and my chest, it hurt
- well, not hurt, exactly... It was very
uncomfortable.  I'm concerned that when your needle
touches my dick, especially the very sensitive area
just behind the head, I'll flinch, sir.  Look, sir, I
know I have no choice in this, I know my owner has
ordered it, so I have to go through with it, sir.  And
it's not that I'm worried about pain, sir, as I'm a
fairly tough guy.  But, sir, I don't like the idea of
possible spoiling your work if you do something that
makes me flinch - I might try to pull away, quite
involuntarily, sir."

I felt a small sense of pride go through me as the
tattooist then said "It's good to hear it!  Some
slaves don't like it when their master orders radical
inking for them.  But you try hard to hold that
erection, and I'll give you something to desensitise
your dick temporarily...."

He held a can near my dick and sprayed something out
of it - an analgesic, I suppose.  It was icy cold, as
aerosols are, and I squirmed as the spray hit my
sensitive areas.  "OK, slave, now I'm going to start",
he said.  "Try to hold still."

Well, I suppose it wasn't all that bad, and it didn't
take all that long.  It was very, shall we say,
uncomfortable, as the needle stabbed in and out of the
really sensitive flesh of my dick, but the spray he'd
given me took the sharp edge off it.  And I didn't
lose the erection, either - the guy was constantly
pulling my dick from side to side as he worked, and he
kind of got a grip on my dick head to do this, and it
was enough to keep me hard.

Looking down over my body as I lay there I could see
my dick, but I couldn't really see the full effect as
the tattooist's hands were mostly in the way, and  the
blood oozing out of the many needle holes anyway
tended to obscure things a bit.  But when he wiped me
clean with a wet cloth and told me to stand up and
look at myself in the mirror, I gave an involuntary
gasp of horror.

I've told you I've got a big dick - long and fat, and
something a guy could be really proud of - and I have
to say that the 'skinning had even improved on it as
my really meaty dick head, with its thick flange, was
now even more prominent.  But now I thought I was
disfigured - my deeply-coloured reddish-purple dick
head was now at the end of a thick, jet-black shaft.
It looked almost like something foreign or alien,
stuck onto the rich, golden tan of my pubic area and
hanging there over my tanned, low-hanging balls.

"Your owner's certainly got some good ideas", the
tattooist was saying as I stood there in horror. "I've
never done a whole dick jet black like that before!
Still, it does make the whole thing the same colour,
doesn't it - no contrast now between where you've been
'skinned and the rest of it.  I've only ever tattooed
a slave's name onto his dick before, and it was quite
interesting to have to do the whole thing."

"Now", he continued, "It will be sore for a couple of
days... So if I were you, I'd try not to jerk off or
fuck..... Unless your master commands it, of course."

"Sir, yes, sir."

"Well, I'm all done.  Get dressed - if that' s what
you call that pouch - and be off home."

I pulled the tiny satin triangle over me, knotted the
string at my waist, pulled the third string up my ass
crack and twisted around to tie it at the back.  As I
did so, I saw myself in the mirror again - my new
jet-black dick was plainly visible through the thin
silk of my G-string.  But what was worse was the
overall impression I got of myself -  I used to be a
tanned, muscled, handsome guy, even though I say it
myself.  Well I was still tanned and muscled, but you
could no longer call me handsome - the swirling
designs covering my back and dripping down onto my
forearms and my ass, the huge words on my chest and
belly, and the large gold rings hanging out of my
nipples and dangling from my nose all combined to make
me..... Well.... Some sort of fetish object.  I was no
longer a man who happened to be a slave, I was now the
result of a man's decision to turn me into something
else, something exotic and strange, something where
other men looking at me would know that I had
absolutely no free will, and was merely the toy of my
owner.

My mood of depression - and, perhaps, anger - was
still with me when I got home.  But I had no time to
spare, as the Overseer told me that my owner and
Master Scott had called and that I was to go
immediately to the tram stop.  I suppose I ought to
have been concerned about the way my blackened dick
was now almost prominently on display through the thin
fabric of my G, but I'd reached the point of thinking
"So what?".  The sight of myself so totally ornamented
had shocked me deeply, and I think I'd really stopped
caring.  As it was, I knelt in front of the Overseer
as usual as he put in the hated bit and locked its
metal holding strap in place behind my head.  Now I
felt even more like a mere animal, totally deprived of
the ability to express myself.

When my owner and Master Scott came out of the
station, they stood in front of me and looked at my
body.  "We hardly need to have him stripped to see his
dick now", Master Scott told my owner.  "Although I
think we should take a closer look, and perhaps give
him another good fucking, when we get home."

My owner didn't reply - I knew from the previous time
that he didn't really want to force his dick up into
me, and that it was only on Master Scott's insistence
that he did so.  The two men climbed into the trap,
then with the expected harsh snap of the whip on my
naked ass, we ran home.

I was covered in sweat as usual when we arrived, and
Master Scott called to the Overseer to have me hosed
down and sent up to their rooms.  I went to kneel as I
always did in front of the Overseer so he could more
conveniently reach the lock holding my bit in place,
but Master Scott told him to leave it as "It stops him
making all that noise when we fuck him."

The Overseer told me to take off my G, then whistled
softly to himself as he caught his first full
unhindered sight of my black dick.  But he didn't say
anything, as I suppose he didn't want to appear to be
disloyal to my owner, and simply fetched the hose and
held it whilst I washed myself quickly and crudely
under it.  Somehow, as I cleaned myself, my dick no
longer felt really like a part of me, it was so alien.
 Of course I could feel it, and it reported the
sensations of my hands on it as I washed myself, but
as I looked down it just didn't seem to be a part of
me.

The Overseer gave me a clean G to wear, then led me to
the house and up to my owner's suite.  He knocked on
the door, and  Master Scott answered and led me
inside.

He and my owner sprawled on one of the huge couches
with a couple of beers, and I was told to strip.
Almost wearily I untied my G and let it fall to the
floor.

"Wow, Scott, that's amazing...", my owner burst out.
"I thought your idea of the tats on his back were
good, and when you suggested having him 'skinned I
went along with it.  But now...  Look at that big
black dick on a white guy!  It looks as if he's had
some bizarre transplant!  It really makes his dick
noticeable, doesn't it.... Not that it was hidden much
before, as it's so big."

"I think we ought to have him displayed even more",
Master Scott replied.  "Lets' have him totally naked
when he's around here, and only let him wear the G
when he's on the public highway.  Now, though....
Who's going to fuck him first?"

"Oh, Scott, do I have to?  He knows now that we're
totally in charge of him - look at that body of his,
'skinned and decorated to our designs.  He doesn't
need my dick up him to remind him that he's a slave
and I'm his owner.  No....."

Turning to me, he said "Get back to the slave
quarters, Steve.  I've no need of you tonight."

I think Master Scott saw the change in my body
language as he said this - I kind of relaxed, as I
hated the thought of being fucked.

"NO, Jase.  I think this slave's still not really used
to the idea that he's totally under our control
sexually as well as for his normal pony duties.  I've
got an idea....."

He went to the phone and I heard him talking to the
Overseer - I only caught the word "pony", and I
thought it referred to me.

The two men carried on talking to each other, ignoring
me as I stood there naked in front of them, until
after a few minutes there was a knock on the door.
Master Scott opened it, and came back into the room
with Jack behind him.

Jack saw me standing there and almost gave a little
gasp of astonishment, but managed to stifle it.  He
was wearing his normal T and shorts as his owner - my
former owner, before he gave me away to his son Master
Jason - treated slaves properly.  No!  My brain had
done it again! I was thinking that my former owner
treated slaves properly, and that implied I was
thinking that my new owner, Master Jason, treated me
improperly!  I'd learned over and over at slave school
and in my training at the ranch that it's a slave's
duty to obey his owner in all things, and that
whatever your owner commanded was correct.

"Strip", Master Scott commanded Jack, and Jack
complied instantly, pushing his shorts down to the
floor in one easy movement, then stripping his T over
his head.  As he reached up, we could all see his dick
flex slightly as his taught belly muscles contracted
as his arms raised.

"I wonder if your dad would give us this one, too?",
Master Scott said to my owner, with a smile. "He's
obviously younger than your pony, and not yet as well
developed - it would be good to put him through a
proper exercise programme and see those muscles fill
out as he matures.  About the only thing he compares
properly with now is in the dick department - I think
his is as long and thick as your slave's."

"Do you like fucking, boy?", he went on, addressing
Jack.

"Sir, yes, sir."

"Have you ever fucked this other pony here?"

"Sir, once, sir."

"Why only once?"

"Sir, he doesn't like it, sir.  He's a top, sir."

"So has he fucked you, boy?"

"Sir, yes, sir."

"Did you enjoy it, boy?"

"Sir......".  Jack hesitated.

"Answer me, boy!"

"Sir.... No, sir.... He was very rough, and he forced
himself on me, sir."

Master Scott looked at my owner and smiled.  Then,
turning back to Jack, he went on
"Well now's your chance to try again, as Master Jason
and I want to see this slave being fucked. And we want
to see it for a good long time...."

"You", he snapped at me. "Put your hands behind your
neck, then bend over the back of the couch and spread
your legs."

I knew something dreadful was going to happen to me,
but I couldn't disobey a direct order from a master,
could I?  So I did as I was told, and stood there,
bent at right angles, and very conscious of my exposed
balls and dick clearly visible between my spread legs.


I heard shuffling and movement behind me, and realised
that Master Scott was guiding Jack towards me.  Then
master Scott's had rested on my back, as if to hold me
down - he couldn't do that, of course, if I'd chosen
to stand up as I was much stronger than him, but this
pressure was I believe symbolic, to indicate that he
was keeping me there.

"Right, slave", he said to Jack.  "Get your dick well
up this ass.  No.... You keep your hands behind your
neck, too:  I'll guide you in.  The slave's not lubed,
so I want to see a vigorous thrust from those thighs
of yours when I tell you...."

Master Scott's hand came off my back, and I was
utterly humiliated as I felt him pull my ass cheeks
apart.  I don't care if he is a master - one man
shouldn't do that to another, should he, unless both
guys are playing?  Then there was the touch of
something hot against the tender skin of my pucker...
It must be Jack's dick, I knew, as I heard Master
Scott say "There, slave..... I've put your dick tip
right where it should be... Now.... PUSH!"

In spite of having the bit preventing me from
speaking, I couldn't help but make a loud grunting
noise as Jack's dick forced its way in to me.  My body
tried to move forward to get away from it but I was
right up against the back of the couch, and all I
could do was stand there and take it as the pain of a
dry dick going up an unlubed ass went right through
me.

"Good!", I heard Master Scott say.  "Now, slave, slide
in and out of him once or twice to really heat up his
hole and get the juices running.... But don't you dare
cum, as I need you to keep going for a long time...."

The pain from my ass got worse and worse as Jack
thrust in and out of me once or twice, and I gurgled
and moaned as it was so unpleasant.

"Now, you, pony..."  Master Scott was speaking to me
again.  "Stand up, slowly.  Don't dare try to push the
boy's dick out of you."

"And you, boy", he went on, "Wrap your arms around the
pony's body and hold him close to you - I want your
hard dick to stay inside him, understand?"

"Sir, yes, sir", Jack almost grunted in reply.

We struggled for a few moments, and then were both
standing upright.  I could feel Jack's body all hot
against my back, and was very conscious of his dick
filling my hole.  His arms were wrapped around my
chest, and I could feel them slipping slightly as the
sweat flowed off us both.

Master Scott now spoke to my owner, and said "This is
a trial for another game I thought we might play the
next time we get together with our friends and their
slaves.... The idea is to see how much cock snot a
slave can be made to deliver..."

"Cock snot?"

"Yes - pre-cum.  The idea is that the pony is
stimulated, without his dick being touched, to make
him start to leak pre-cum.. No, let's stick to the
term cock snot as it's sounds more fun and less
anatomical... The pony is made to leak cock snot, it's
collected, and the one who delivers the most in, say,
half an hour, is the winner."

"You, boy.... Start to locate the pony's prostate with
that cock of yours, then gyrate your hips and do
whatever else you need to, to massage it with your
dick head.... I want the pony kept aroused,
understand?  And don't you dare cum up him yet -
you've got to last at least thirty minutes, or else
I'll thrash you.  Understand?"

"Sir, yes, sir", Jack gasped indistinctly, as his face
was pushed hard into my shoulders.

I felt him start to move, and it was unbelievably
erotic.  Not only was his dick moving around inside
me, but his hard, muscular body was moving around
inclose contact with mine.  His pubic hair was
scratching my ass gently, his pubic bone was against
my muscular ass cheeks, and I could feel the faint
scrape of the light thatch of the hair on his pecs as
it moved against my broad back.  In spite of feeling
utterly humiliated by it all, my dick seemed to have a
mind of its own and I went into a hard erection, and
Master Scott and my owner both shouted with glee.

Jack went on and on moving around against me, and I
was getting incredible sensations from my ass.
Although I was blushing furiously at the embarrassment
of being used in this way, I couldn't help myself....
To my horror, I saw a small bubble of pre-cum start to
appear from my piss slit.

"Here it comes", Master Scott shouted.  "Here's the
first dribble of cock snot.  If we can persuade the
others to play this game, I think we'll have a
sure-fire winner with your pony, Jase."

"Oh tell him to stop, Scott.... That snot's going to
fall on the rug, and it will stain...."

Master Scott went into the bathroom, and came back
unrolling a condom and blowing it to it to inflate it.
 Without asking me or anything, he snapped the condom
over my rock solid dick - I felt his hot fingers
laying around with the tip of my dick, and I was so
sensitive that I bucked my hips in a kind of ecstasy,
and almost dislodged Jack from my ass.  He didn't put
the condom on properly (we'd learned about these at
slave school, although I'd never had to wear one:
they were considered to be a bit of a joke, as we were
told that no man would want to dull the sensation from
his dick), but simply snapped the open end behind the
head of my dick so that the flange held it on, leaving
the body of the thing handing down obscenely in front
of me.

"There", master Scott said to my owner. "I knew we'd
find a use for those things that your dad bought you
one day!  Fancy him thinking we'd actually spoil our
pleasure by covering ourselves in that disgusting
latex - even the smell is foul!  But look how his cock
snot is dribbling down inside it - we can watch as he
carries on generating it, and see how much he
produces."

"Right, slaves.  You have thirty minutes", he said to
both Jack and me. "I want good, continuous stimulation
from you, boy - keep his prostate excited!.  And you,
slave, you make sure that you keep dribbling snot - if
you push the boy out of you, or cum, I'll beat you as
I did the other day.  I want a good load of cock snot,
with no actual cum.  Understand?"

"Sir, yes, sir", Jack gasped, as he was doing a lot of
work to keep moving against me.  All I could do, of
course, was to make a kind of grunt in response, as I
was cruelly unable to utter even these simple words.

We stood there like that, with Jack playing the part
of a human dildo to stimulate me, for half an hour.
My owner and Master Scott kept up an almost continual
commentary on the state of my dick, and the way the
cock snot, as they now both persisted in calling it,
was pouring out of me.  They started to play with each
other, and within  a few minutes had dropped their
jeans and were jerking each other off.  I couldn't
understand how they could do this in front of Jack and
me, but then of course I realised that, to them, it
was as if we were not there.  They'd probably never
jerk each other off in front of two other guys, but we
were mere slaves and so didn't count.

Of all the ways they'd found to use me, this was
almost certainly the worst - I felt totally
humiliated, and, adding to this, was the fact that I
was actually quite enjoying  it.  Somehow, taking
pleasure from something that ought to be hateful made
it far, far more awful.  Here I was, utterly demeaned,
being used as a "game" and as a stimulant to two
masters' love making, and I was turned on by it all.

When it looked as if my dick was flagging a bit,
Master Scott called out to Jack "Reach up and pull his
tit rings to excite him...", and Jack of course did as
he was told.  His hands slid up over my pecs, and he
started to jerk and tweak at my nipple rings.  My body
bucked and thrashed under this stimulation, and he had
to grip his arms even tighter around me to keep his
body in contact with mine.  Master Scott and my owner
laughed as they saw my reaction, and, just at that
moment, Master Scott's manipulation of my owner's dick
at last caused him to shoot a load of cum, to be
followed shortly by Master Scott's as my owner's hand
finished stimulating him.

Both men lay on the couch gasping slightly and playing
with the ropes of cum that stretched between them.
When they'd recovered slightly, my owner said  "Wow,
Scott.... That was fantastic.  Having these guys
perform is a real turn on...."

"Yes, Jase....  We'll do this again.  Now, I think
we've seen enough, don't you?"

My owner nodded, and master Scott told Jack he could
stop moving, but was to remain up my ass.  He slid odd
the couch, came over, and pulled the condom off my
dick.

Walking back over to the couch, I heard him say to my
owner "See, Jase - pure cock snot.  Look how thin and
watery it is compared to a load of cum.  Interesting,
isn't it, how much he can be stimulated to produce.
Shall we see if he shoots as big a load of cum now as
we've just shot?"

"No, Jase - I want to shower, and go down to dinner."

"But the boy deserves something", Scott replied.  "And
I think there's been something going on between these
two."

"Right, you two", he went on "Keep in him, boy.  And
you, slave, back and lie over the couch".

We kind of sidled across the floor, and I lay there
again, my hands still behind my neck and my rock hard
dick pressing almost painfully into the hard leather
of the couch.

"Do you want to fuck his ass properly now, boy?"

"Yes, sir!  Yes, please, sir!", Jack rapped out
crisply.

"OK, then - fuck him!"

That bastard Jack, I thought.  He'd had no choice but
to stimulate me for the last half hour, as he'd been
ordered to do so.  But he shouldn't have agreed to
fuck me - he knew I hated it.  But as soon as Master
Scott had said OK, he' started to go at me - his knees
pushed against my legs, forcing them apart to give my
ass maximum exposure to him, and he began a vigorous
pounding away at me, almost pulling out completely on
each stroke and then slamming into me.  I grunted in
time to is strokes, as that peculiar mixture of
discomfort, pain and pleasure went through me every
time his body slammed into mine.   After all that
preparation he was obviously on the edge, because it
only went on for about ten thrusts before he stopped,
and I heard him gasp "Oh fuck, yes... Jesus...
Yes....." And I knew he'd shot up into me.

He pulled out of me, and stood there looking a the two
men, who were laughing at the display.

"See, Jase", Master Scott said "Remember how you were
at eighteen, how wonderful it was to be that vigorous,
and how you could take an ass like that?"

"Speak for yourself, Scott... Some of us can still do
it like that...."

The two guys were laughing at each other, and Master
Scott broke off to tell Jack to go and clean his dick
in the bathroom, then to get dressed and get out of
there.  I went to stand up, but Master Scott's happy
mood at once turned to fury.

"You fucking slave, you don't learn, do you?  Who told
you to get up?  Slaves don't in initiate action, do
they?  Suppose your owner or me wanted to fuck you,
and you'd already got up?"

He was right, of course.  I couldn't say anything,
because of the bit, but I felt a hot flush of
embarrassment sweep over me and my face burned bright
red under his perfectly justified rebuke for my
actions.  I lay back over the couch, and Master Scott
came up to me.

"I ought to tan your hide again, slave.  You know
that, don't you?"

I tried to grunt "Sir, yes, sir", but not much came
out.

"Oh leave him alone, Scott.  It's almost dinner time.
Send the slave out, and let's shower and dress.... You
know how my dad hates us to be late.  He thinks we're
up here fooling around, and you know he doesn't like
the idea of us having sex...."

"Right, slave, stand up, then!", Master Scott
commanded, and I straightened, and stood in front of
him.  He held out the condom, half full of my pre-cum,
and went on "Right, take this.... And drink it."

I almost shook my head, but my slave training just
stopped me.  But not before Master Scott had seen my
hesitation.

"What's the matter, slave?  It's your cock snot, so
it's all right.  Anyway, even if it was someone
else's, it would still be all right - perfectly
wholesome.  And, of course your master has told you to
do it, so you don't have any choice, do you?"

I knew I was wrong, and, even though I hate the idea,
reached out and took the condom from him.  I put the
open end into my mouth and ran my fingers from the
tip, expelling all my collected pre-cum into my mouth.
 It was cold and not very nice - generally more
pungent that a proper load of cum - and with the bit
holding my tongue down I had difficulty in getting it
all down my throat without gagging.

Master Scott laughed when he saw my problems, but
finally said "OK, get out of here!"

I went to pick up my tiny silk pouch and put it on,
but he went on "No... we've had a good idea.  There's
no need to conceal yourself around the estate here, as
it's only us and your fellow slaves looking at you. I
only want that pouch on you when you're taking us on
the public roads in future.  Now, get out."

I hated walking through the house with my dick bobbing
up and down in front of me, and a couple of the house
slaves who saw me even laughed when they saw me - had
I really become such a freak, I wondered?   I was also
bitterly conscious of the reek of sex coming from me,
and knew that they would know that I had just been
used in some degrading way.

Back at the dorm for the outside slaves I went to the
Overseer's office and knelt in front of him, expecting
him to take my it out.  But instead he snapped "No,
Steve.  Master Jason called down a few minutes ago,
and he's decided you're going to wear the bit
permanently.  He likes the idea of having you muted.
So get off to bed."

Was there no end to what was going to happen to me, I
wondered - wasn't it bad enough that my body had been
modified and I looked like a freak? But was I now
going to be permanently deprived of the ability to
even talk with my fellow slaves?  I knew that with the
bit pushing my tongue down all I could do was make
inarticulate gasping noises, and even those occasions
when I could talk to Joe as we pulled the mower were
now going to be denied to me.  I was in a pretty foul
mood when I went into the dorm, and my fellow slaves,
who'd all been chattering away, fell silent when they
saw me.

"Hey, Steve, man.... I'm sorry.....".  Joe had got up
from his bed and come over to me, as I stood there in
the doorway.

"Jesus Christ!, that's some sick joke they're playing
on you, man!  I know you've got a nice big dick, and
that's supposed to be the speciality of black guys,
but having your dick tattooed to make it look like a
black's is going a bit far.  Why did they do it?"

I went to answer Joe, to say I didn't know, really,
other than that it amused my owner and Master Scott,
but of course the words wouldn't come out.

"Oh fuck - they've left your bit in, too.  Don't tell
me that you've got to wear it permanently...."

All I could do was nod at Joe, to let him know that
was the position, and he went on "Look, I'm really
sorry - I don't think it's right to keep a slave muted
as you are when he's not working....  But, what can
you do?"

Jack then cut in "Well, I think it's not a bad
idea.... He's been disobedient and wilful lately, and
perhaps making him keep his opinions to himself will
give him the humility a proper slave needs. And I
think his dick was inked like that so that no one
would willingly go with him - who'd want to play with
a freakish thing like that, when there are plenty of
nice, proper ones around.... As he knows, after what
we did a few minutes ago."

As he said this, Jack (who was naked, too, as the
slaves were preparing for bed) waggled his dick up and
down in front of me.  I was really pissed off by this
- did he think any of this was my fault, or something?
 I went to push past him to get to my bed, but he went
on

"Perhaps we ought to give you a new name, Steve....
Now that you've got that big black dick, I'm going to
call you 'Sambo' in future.  So what do you think of
that?  Oh, you won't be able to tell us, will you, as
your owner has decided to keep you muted, as he can't
trust you to respond only as a slave should to his
owner's questions...."

This was too much for me - I went to carry on towards
my bed, but he now had one hand on my shoulder
preventing me from moving.  His other hand went down
and he took hold of my dick.

"Yes, this feels just like a black man's dick,
Sambo....  I do hope they buy a black slave here next,
so you and he can fuck.... A big, black dick in a
black slave's ass....."

Well, I know it was wrong. But I was so frustrated, so
provoked.  I couldn't even shout at him. So I hit him,
hard, lashing out at him with my fists.  He fought
back, of course, but he was no match for me - I was
bigger, stronger and tougher, and was in an absolute
blind rage.  He tried to fight "scientifically", but
all I wanted to do was lash out and hurt him, and I
did - I pounded him almost to a pulp, until he was
half senseless.  Then I dragged his supine body to the
nearest bed, threw him down on to it, and fucked him!


This was no friendly fuck as two guys have together -
this was my big, rock-hard dick just forcing its way
brutally and without and preparation into his asshole
as it was available to me as he lay there.  The other
slaves tried to stop me, but after I'd lashed out at
them and struck a couple of them very hard so that
they careered backwards and fell to the floor, they
gave up.  All I could feel was a totally consuming
rage, a rage fuelled by the unfairness of it all.  I'd
always tried to be a good slave.  I was a good slave,
properly trained.  I knew what a slave's role was, and
I did it to the best of my ability.  But my owner
didn't appreciate it and had turned me into a
decorated animal, denying me even a scrap of cloth to
cover my nakedness, and having me obscenely decorated.
And I'd been used as something to bring them sexual
pleasure - made to dribble cock snot as my ass was
stimulated, then to drink it. And this other slave, a
slave who I had worked with, and liked, was now
taunting me......

I fucked and fucked, and even in my state of complete
helpless rage I could see that I was hurting him -
although he was almost senseless from my violent
attack, he was making whimpering noises and cries, and
was trying to move his body further onto the bed, in a
vain attempt to escape the powerful thrusts of my
dick.  But I didn't care - indeed, the fact that I was
inflicting on him the pain that I felt (although his
was physical, and mine was in my mind) gave me a huge
sense of satisfaction and fulfilment.  It wasn't just
the tightness of his ass gripping my dick that was
pleasuring me, but the feeling that I was totally
dominating him, I was in charge, I was controlling
this slave who, a few moments ago, was taunting me and
who had fucked me as I lay there in front of my owner
and Master Scott.

I'd have been happy to go on fucking and fucking, but
of course the inevitable happened - I felt my balls
start to constrict, and then I shot a huge load up
him.  That made me stop my thrusts, and I stood there,
my dick buried up to the hilt, my back arched in
ecstasy, and I gave a great cry of triumph - except,
of course, that all that came out was an inarticulate
gurgle because of my bit.

I then pulled out of him, and stood there, my dick
dripping with his ass juices, looking at my fellow
slaves.  I wanted to say things like "There's more of
this, too,  for any of you fuckers who mock me....",
but of course I couldn't.  However my whole stance,
the rage I was still radiating, my body language.... I
think it said it all, as they all backed away from me.

Except Joe, that is.  "You stupid cunt, Steve!  Get to
bed, and let us try to take care of Jack..."

When I hesitated, he snapped "Bed, NOW, Steve, before
you make a disaster any worse.  Look what you've done
to Jack..."

He went to gently push me towards my bed, but I was
still in the heat of passion and rage.  I struck out
at him, and then, when he didn't resist, I started to
pound my fists into him.  Although he 's a big, strong
guy, I was younger than him and more powerful.  He
made no attempt to resist, and I used him just like a
punching bag, pounding into him over and over, until
my arms were utterly exhausted.

At last, I stopped. and started to come back to
reality, and I looked down at the body lying there on
the bed.  Jack had curled up into a foetal ball, and
was lying there, quietly sobbing and hugging himself
as if tying to make the pain go away.  Joe was flat
out of the floor, his arms clutched around him, to try
to take away the pain from the brutal beating I'd
given him.  Something inside me flipped, and I was
filled with remorse for what I'd done.  I went to bend
over and touch Jack, to say I was sorry....

But neither Jack nor Joe wanted me near them.  So I
slunk away, went and got into my bed, and lay there.
I could smell my sweat, my cum, and Jack's ass juices
and I knew I must be staining the sheets, but I didn't
care.... I wanted it all to go away, I wanted to blot
out the last few minutes, I wanted everything to be
right in the world, as it used to be, when I was a
happy slave, doing his proper duty by my previous
owner.  I tried to sleep, but couldn't - and anyway
there was a lot of disturbance as my fellow slaves
took Jack and Joe  down to the showers and tried to
get them cleaned up.

It's funny, though, isn't it?  However much you feel
you're not going to sleep, if you're really exhausted
- and I'd had a tiring day - and especially if you've
just emptied your balls, sleep does come and I fell
into a deep, dreamless slumber.

End of Part 14.