Date: Thu, 15 Oct 1998 03:13:05 -0400 From: Jamie Anderson Subject: Ole Gorges's Tale III The Nerdy bit. This story is fiction and contains quite explicitly described sex scenes between, more or less, consenting males. For those of you who find this sort of thing offensive I would normally refer you to http://www.disney.com/ but alas after the Gay Days they have been having at Disney World no doubt your nose would be put out of joint there too. For those of you who are underage and reading this, what can I say? "Hone these hacking skills my boy, one day you might just make a living from them." Comments and criticism are welcomed at the Email address mentioned. Any suggestions for outlines for future stories are also welcome. Flames however will incur the "Curse of the Internet". The Dungeon. I did not really want to discuss the pros and cons of being a slave. Neither did I want to go over the finer details of what would be happening in the dungeon. All I wanted to do was get back to my lunch and enjoy it. There is always a good way to change the conversation, get the other guy to talk about himself. So, like a fool, I asked how he was getting on at medical school. Let me a little time out and give you some advice at this point. Never, under any circumstances, ask a first year medical student what he is doing at school. Because he will tell you in great detail. He is learning anatomy and histology. Four of the little darlings are in a team dissecting the body of some poor unfortunate who was foolish enough to donate his, or her, body to science. Apparently they are assisted, in the dissection of the head, by an additional two, would be, dentists. When it comes to discussing his schooling your average medical student regresses about ten or so years and becomes the little boy who has just discovered how to gross out grownups, but unlike a little boy, he is now very proficient at it. Somehow we never got round to discussing histology. So when he started asking questions about what was going to happen later in the dungeon it was almost a relief to get the subject changed. "But why are they bringing him here?" he asked. "Well, convenience really. We are about halfway between where Arnold lives and where Handy Andy lives, and Max has all the equipment they will need", I said, dreading the next question. "What are they going to do to him?" he asked. What the hell, in for a penny, in for a pound. "His training is complete, he is broken, as they say", I started. "What do you mean by `broken'?" he interrupted. "Broken-in, I suppose. He now obeys orders, knows his place, doesn't speak unless spoken to, that sort of thing", I answered, failing to mention that he have any will of his own anymore. Then continued, "In any event Arnold has sold him to an Arab. So he is having Handy Andy er..." I dribbled out. Shit I was losing it again. John was getting his kicks from my embarrassment. Fuck it! I decided to see if he could be grossed out. "Make him slack enough for his new Master. Some of these Arabs are rather well hung." "You mean he is bring him all the way here to have his ring fingered?" he asked. I shook my head and lifted my right hand. Separating my index, ring and middle fingers I enclosed them with the fingers of my left hand. "That is what you took last night", I said. "Now this is what he'll be getting", I said releasing my fingers and slowly curling my right hand into a fist. John went pure white. "He, he can't take that, it'd kill him", he stuttered. "Well that is where Handy Andy comes in. From what Max has told me over the years he is the best fist fucker in the business. He can slacken a guy up in no time at all. Then apparently they stick in a butt plug for a week or so and the result is more or less permanent. They are coming here because Andy likes his, victim, er customer, to be completely immobilised, if it's the first time. Just in case he panics and injures himself trying to escape", I said. Personally I like Ole George to do most of the long term slackening of my bedmates, but each to his own I suppose. That seemed to do the trick because John shut up and ate his lunch for a while. Then he asked, "But we can we watch?" "I suppose so. But you better not eat anything directly before it", I replied. Lunch finished he decided that the cat door must be installed so that the cat, if and when it arrived, would feel welcome. So feeling like a bit of an idiot I got out my tools, cut a hole in the backdoor and fitted the cat door for the mythical moggie. Apparently it would not be offended by entering by the tradesman's entrance. The electronic chime sounded. "Looks like we have company", I said. Perhaps I should explain. I am not really paranoid, but living about a mile from what passes for a road, in my neck of the woods, I like to know when I'm about to have visitors. When I had moved in I had a second telephone line and Telex fitted. The GPO, the Telephone Company, had removed the old bare wires on insulators and run a multi-wire cable down the pole route to the farm. After they left I investigated and found several spare pairs in the cable. Two of those I commandeered for my own use. A careful observer would have noticed that the cable had been spliced down near the main road. The branch from the splice ran down the pole and entered a rather insignificant box mounted about 3 feet from the foot of the pole. Further inspection would have turned up a small reflector, mounted about the same height, on the trunk of a tree on the opposite side of the drive. Between the two a beam of light pulsed back and forth. Anything breaking that light beam sounded the electronic chime. So I was always ready for guests. I know that I really should have told him to go and get dressed properly. But the sight of him running around in a T-shirt that was far too big for him rang my chimes, so I left things as they were. We watched the car as it approached and we were waiting at the door as they arrived. "Now remember, no matter what happens, you do not freak out. Got it?" I admonished John. "If it gets too much just give me the nod and we will quietly leave. Oh and if anyone plays grab ass with you don't scream, it only encourages them. Just tell me and I'll stop them from going too far." He nodded but I knew he wasn't really listening. He was more excited at the thought of being able to watch the dungeon being used properly. Max was the first out of the car. As I said he is into leather in a big way. Mind you I rather think that the leather gear now serves a double function these days, the second one being that of a corset. In the years I have known him he had put on quite a bit of weight. "Good God Nick, I didn't know that you were into chicken? And oven ready too, by the looks of him!" By a way of greeting Max ran a hand up the back of the T-shirt John was wearing and fondled his buns. "A hairy little beggar, isn't he?" "Get your filthy hands off him, you dirty old bugger. I don't want motorcycle oil in all that fur, It'll be hell to get it clean." I replied. Max and I go back a long way. Next out of the car was Handy Andy. He is a small, quiet guy of indeterminate age. He always moves quite carefully and methodically. Now some people see him as slow, however if you observe properly you will notice that he never has to go back and correct any mistakes. He shook hands with me then I introduced him to John. He looked John over with a critical eye and made the poor lad shiver. >From the driver's side Arnold emerged. He is one of the few guys who is tall enough to look me straight in the eye. He is ramrod straight and has what they call a "military bearing". Everyone has a slight urge to call him "sir" and I have seen soldiers in the street straighten up and salute him as he passed. He walked round the back of the car and opened the passenger door and reached in. I was watching John's reactions out of the corner of my eye, as the slave emerged. This one wore a rather thick dog collar, complete with studs, round his neck attached to this was a leash. The other end of which was in Arnold's hand. That was the sum total of his clothing. As he was buck-naked it was quite easy to see that apart from the short black hair on his head the rest of his had been shaved off. He was in his early twenties and had a good body. Two other things caught the eye. He had an erection and his eyes never left the ground as Arnold led him over. John's reactions were limited to a very sharp intake of breath and getting a grip on my arm that was so tight I feared for my circulation. Arnold, as ever, kept the introductions brief and courteous. He gave John the once over and grinned at me. "You'll have a hell of a time keeping this one properly shaved," he joked. Then we trooped off to the dungeon. I watched the Boy as he was led in just to see the effect the place had on him. I was totally disappointed; his eyes never left the piece of ground that was directly in front of him. Max went straight to the frame and roared with laughter. "Now who's been playing with my toys?" he asked. John went red and buried his face in my chest. I laughed it off saying, "John just wanted to see how it worked, so I demonstrated it to him. "I'll bet. On him more like", said Max adjusting it for its next occupant. When this was done Arnold led the Boy over and he was quickly strapped in. A few touches of the buttons and he was rotated through ninety degrees and now lay face down in the spread-eagled position about table height off the floor. Handy Andy now joined them and they calmly discussed the slave as if he was an animal Arnold had just bought. I found this scary and John was beginning to shake. "Want to leave already", I whispered in his ear. He vigorously shook his head. "What is his name?" he whispered back. "He doesn't have one. They usually react to `Boy', maybe his Master will give him one later" I answered. "I want to fuck him"; this came out fierce whisper. "What?" I said, a little too loud. This really wrong footed me. I thought John was ready to run, in fact he was all for joining in. "What chance will I ever have of fucking you when you are in that machine?" he asked, keeping his voice down. "Zero!" I answered without pausing for thought. "Well then he is my only chance, isn't he?" he said. "Then you will have to ask Arnold", I said in a normal voice. The other conversation stopped and all eyes were on us. Arnold beckoned and John walked right over to him. God I wish I knew how Arnold could do that. "And what is it you want to ask me, John-boy?" said Arnold fixing John with those eyes. The addition of the suffix "boy" riled me slightly. It felt like Arnold was setting his sights on John and I felt the strange sensation of being protective of the lad. John went red but some of the ribbing that I had given him earlier about asking for things must have worked for with a clear voice he said, "May I fuck your Boy, Sir?" The change that came over Arnold was astonishing. One moment he was the absolute authoritarian, then in the blink of an eye he was that fun Uncle who always allowed you to do things your parents forbade you to do. The one who would take you to the Fair and let you go on all the rides you wanted, buy you all the junk food you could eat. Only his body language told me it was all an act. So that's how he got his new recruits. Arnold's hand dropped and came up with the hem of the T-shirt. "Well lad if you can find your cock in all that hair, I suppose that you can", he laughed. "Boy, a little furry teddy bear is going to fuck you", he said releasing John's T-shirt. "Now let's see if you can show these gentlemen your new skills. You have thirty seconds." The edge came back on his voice as he spoke to the Boy. John scooted round the back of the slave. Max lowered the legs can adjusted the torso to be slightly tilted then brought it all lower until it was the correct height for John. He chucked a tube of KY to John and we all stood round in a circle to watch the show. "Please God", I thought, "don't let him start by rimming the slave." Mercifully he just greased the Boy up. Then with no thought of foreplay entered him. He was obviously was going to attempt to repeat the "hands off" fuck that I had given him. Given the circumstances it was a good a choice, as good as any that I would have made. However things didn't quite go as John planned. Although the Boy was quite firmly strapped to the frame he could flex his buttocks and wriggle quite a bit. Arnold had really taught him well. John began gasping and moaning and was clearly losing control fast. About ten seconds into the fuck the slave was obviously running things. Arnold smiled quietly. At twenty seconds the Boy let out a groan. Although no one had touched his cock it now sprayed his seed onto the dungeon floor. God alone knows what the effect felt like for John, for he just grabbed the boys hips and held on, it was most obvious that he was shooting his wad. "Well done. Boy", said Arnold in sort of voice you use when a pet dog has performed a trick perfectly. "You shall be rewarded." I was wondering what form the reward would take when John returned to my side. He was shaking and breathless. "I made him cum, just by fucking him, I never touched his cock!" he whispered in my ear with some pride. I didn't have the heart to tell him that Max had told me that Arnold's slaves are conditioned to cum during anal sex. Apparently, at first, he always keeps their cocks stimulated when they are being fucked. Gradually the two forms of stimulation merge in their minds and gradually only the anal stimulation is necessary to achieve orgasm. According to Max the Masters get a big ego boost by having a slave cum when they fuck them. Looking at the state of John I could well believe it. The other three resumed their conversation and finally Andy nodded. Two moved back to join us and watch the show. Max standing next to John and surreptitiously running his hand up the back of the T-shirt while Arnold stood apart from out little trio. When Max had had the dungeon built he has specified a shower in one corner. For some reason, nativity I suppose, I had assumed that this was to be used to clean everyone up afterwards. As usual I was wrong. Andy manipulated the controls until the Boy was in the sitting upright position, Then he carefully explained to the Boy that he was going to be cleaned out. Andy removed the showerhead and attached an extension pipe. This terminated in a thin metal rod that was perforated with holes. He turned on the water and it poured rather than squirted out of the holes. Having adjusted the temperature he then walked back to the Boy and inserted it into his ass. "Try to take as much as you can but tell me if you get any pain", he instructed the Boy. I swear to God that the moment the pipe went up his ring he got an erection. I heard a murmur of approval from Arnold. We stood and watched as Andy held the pipe in place. Eventually the Boy's stomach began to distend and he gasped. "Now?" asked Andy. The Boy shook his head. Then again he gasped. Andy looked at him but once more he shook his head. Andy looked questioningly at Arnold who just shrugged his shoulders. The Boy finally groaned and nodded. Andy withdrew the tube, the Boy sighed with relief as everything shot out of him and went straight down the drain. It took Andy three goes until the water that came out was clean enough for his liking. John was shaking again and I was using all my control to pretend to be the big brave soldier who was unmoved by it all. Arnold's only reaction seemed to be satisfaction that his slave was doing him proud. Max was getting his rocks off. Andy returned the Boy to the position he has been in when John fucked him. He then went round to the front and once more carefully explained to the Boy exactly what was going to be done to him. Max found the can of Crisco and handed it over. Watching Andy work I now knew why Max imported this stuff in catering packs. The word "sparingly" did not appear in Andy's lexicon. The stuff was carefully and liberally applied to both hands. Even in between the fingers was greased up. Then he began packing it into the Boy's ass. He was actually managing to get lumps of it pushed in. When he was satisfied with his work he began fingering the Boy. This procedure went quite quickly, as the Boy was not exactly a virgin. However, after Andy's little finger joined its big brothers inside the Boy's ring, things slowed down. Andy just kept moving his hand in and out then round and round. With no warning at all, he pulled back slightly curled his thumb into the palm of his hand and pushed. Oh my God his whole hand slid in! The Boy gasped, but seemed to be in no pain. Andy stopped for a moment. "John-boy", said Arnold, "turning into the indulgent Uncle and making my hackles rise, "Would you like to help us for a moment?" Arnold looked at me and said, "Oh it's all right Nick, no harm will come to the lad. He's just looking a bit off colour, it would be better if he took part in the proceedings." Then slipping his arm round John's shoulders he lead him across to the Boy, "Now John-boy, you like sucking cock, don't you", he said as if he was asking his favourite nephew if he liked ice cream. John nodded. Arnold reached down and closed the cover over the drain and motioned John to sit on it so he was positioned for a 69 directly under the frame. "Well you see lad, the Boy is going to get quite a lot of stimulation soon. This will make him want to cum. So your job is to suck on his cock every time it gets hard until he cums. Understand?" he asked. John nodded again. "And if you can make him come five times or more Andy may have a special treat for you. Am I right Andy?" Andy smiled and nodded. John wrapped his lips round the hairless cock of the slave as Andy balled his hand into a fist and began slowly moving it. Andy worked quite methodically driving his fist up and down the inside of the Boy. To my amazement the Boy seemed to be in no pain, the only time he cried out was when he had an orgasm and John dutifully sucked his cock dry and swallowed his seed. After the third orgasm Andy appeared to be taking a break. He removed his hand from the Boy's ass and went back to fingering him. At first this seemed to me to be a retrograde step, then I noticed that the other hand was joining in. within a short period no less than eight fingers were wriggling around inside the Boy's ring. What happened next I'm not exactly sure. But the Boy grunted and began to have an orgasm. One hand was inside him when he started and two were then when he finished. "As neatly done as I've ever seen. Excellent job." said Arnold then turning to the Boy he ruffled what little hair the lad had and said, "Good Boy, we're almost finished." Watching two forearms slide in and out of the bound slave's ass was having its effects on me. One half of me wanted to scream and run out of the place. The other half, Ole George's bit, wanted to fuck ass. John was going to be one gravely misused lad before we got any sleep tonight. Andy kept up the pressure on the Boy until he decided that his work was done. One hand slid out, the boy sighed. Removing the second hand Andy kept his fist balled and pulled it out slowly. The Boy once more cried out. Then what little was left in his balls made its way down John's eager throat. "Well done everyone. Now come here John-boy and see what we've got for you." said Arnold helping John out from under the slave. Andy took John's right hand and carefully inspected the fingernails. Then he slapped wads of Crisco on it. "Now lad, curl your hand up like this", he demonstrated, "and gently slide it in until his ring is round your wrist." John complied. "Good now slowly make a fist, done it?" John nodded. "Now fuck him, but no further than your elbow." "Wow! Do you know what this feels like?" John asked me. Dumbly I shook my head. This had never really been my scene before. However it seemed to be turning John on. It looked like he might be sliding down that slippery slope and pulling me after him. When John withdrew and came back to me, Arnold went over to the line of dildos and summoned Andy. Between them they selected one. It was big, not impossibly big, but I would not like to take it up me. Andy returned to the Boy, greased up the dildo and slid it in. The Boy sighed. Andy looked questioningly at Arnold. "Perfect", said Arnold. Andy removed the dildo and returned to the line of toys, towards what I call the ridiculous end, and selected a butt plug. The head of it was wide but so was the neck. All the butt plugs that I had seen up till then had not had wide necks. He greased it up, inserted it and the Boy took it without comment. "Now Boy, unless I tell you otherwise, you will only remove that plug to have a crap, and when you do you will replace it as soon as possible. Understand?" said Arnold, all traces of the nice uncle figure gone. "Yes Master", these were the only two words I ever heard the slave say. The show being over the slave was released and told to shower. Andy and John got the grease of themselves and we all retired upstairs for a drink. Everyone but me was on beer and Arnold even allowed the Boy to have one, as his reward. He sat on the floor between the feet of Arnold and gratefully sipped it. I watched him carefully. His body language radiated contentment. He was not afraid, he was at peace. It was very weird indeed. I could not make head or tail of it. Max noticed my confusion and motioned me to come into the kitchen with him. "I suppose that you are going to go all moral on me?" he started. "No, I'm just confused. The boy is young, good looking, nice body, he should have a life of his own not be someone's sex toy." I said. "Hmm, you didn't examine his wrists, did you?" I shook my head. "There are scars on them, from when he tried to slash his wrists. For some reason he could not cope with life. He couldn't form relationships with others. Making decisions scares him. He couldn't hold a job for any length of time. Eventually he ended up on the streets, sleeping rough, that's when tried to top himself. As a human being he was a total failure and society had rejected him. Then Arnold found him. Now you may disapprove of what Arnold does, but now at least the Boy has a purpose in life, he enjoys it, his needs are taken care of, and most of all he feels secure. Perhaps for the first time in his life." Max said. I just shook my head, fucking the ass off other guys I could understand; fucking their minds scared me. By now the party was over and the visitors all trooped out to the car. The Boy, still naked, was placed between Andy and Max in the back whilst Max drove. We stood seeing them off; I was directly behind John with my arms round his shoulders. He looked up at me, grinned and said, "That Max is a fast worker. He kept putting his hand on my ass and most of the time he had a couple of fingers inside me." "There will be more than a couple of fingers inside you in a minute", I said lifting an arm to wave. "Then you'll have to catch me first", he said wriggling from my grasp and making a dive back through the door. My long legs and fast reflexes made sure that he never made it beyond the hall. I had played Rugby at school. The thought of being able to put my head between two hunky asses had been a turn on. In any event the training was now put to good use. I brought him to the floor with a flying tackle. Using my weight to hold his giggling body pinned to the floor I used my hands to free Ole George from his confines. Once he was out it was a simple matter to spit on my hand by way of lubricating him. Then guiding him to his target was easy. "This is rape!' John managed to gasp through the giggling. "Yup and I'm not letting you go until you have made Ole George happy", I grunted as Old George made his way back up that now familiar passage. It was a wild fuck. The kid tried everything to escape. He was getting better and almost made it couple of times. I didn't try to lock him in place, as that would have been no fun. So we were still wrestling on the floor when Ole George blew off deep inside John's ass. The events of the evening must have affected me more than I realised as Ole George kept on pumping for an age. I collapsed, limp on top of him and we lay there, not speaking for a long time. Eventually I dragged myself off him, closed the front door, pulled him to his feet and we headed for the shower. Now males have the strange habit of peeing where they're not supposed to pee. I assume it goes back to territorial marking or something like that. Some guys will pee in the wash basin when there is a toilet bowl right next to it. Others do it in the bath or swimming pool. Me? I am quite happy to let Ole George empty my bladder in the shower. So I was happily letting go when John cried out and made a dive for Ole George. This kid was rapidly turning into a pervert I though as he sucked me dry. It was fairly obvious that the kid was horny so when we dried off I took him to the bedroom and chucked him on the bed. He landed on his back. "Can I fuck you?" he asked. "Only in your dreams", I said locking his hands behind his back. "But you let me last night", he pointed out. "It was a moment of weakness", I said wrapping my thick soft lips round the end of his cock and using them to push back his foreskin. "No", he said, struggling again, "I want to screw you." I laughed round his cock and slid my middle finger into his ring. There, mid the slickness of my spent cum, I found his prostate, it was already hard. He began to struggle in earnest. This time I locked him in place and began to massage his hot spot with my finger. He gave up the fight and began to fuck my mouth. The excitement of the earlier incidents seemed to have affected him too, because suddenly my mouth was filling with wad after wad of his seed. He tasted so good that I kept on sucking until he was pleading for me to stop. We cleaned up, yet again, and went to the kitchen to make dinner. Just as we were about to sit down to eat John opened a tin of cat food and emptied it onto a saucer, which he placed on the floor along with a small bowl of water. I sighed and rolled my eyes heavenwards. He just grinned. Now I do pride myself on my cooking. I even took a course on the subject. So it was with some satisfaction that I watched John tuck into his food. Fishing for compliments I asked if I was a better cook than his mother was. He gave a lopsided grin and said, "Different" Although it was Saturday evening I was too bushed to go out. John made no objections to staying in so we curled up on the settee and watched some TV. It was quite pleasant just lying there cuddling him not having sex, just body contact. So I lay there thinking, ignoring the inane babble from the haunted fish tank. In the last two days my life had been altered drastically. For example; me, staying in on a Saturday night, just for a cuddle in front of the TV? If you were to put this idea to any of my friends they would have laughed themselves silly at the very thought of it. For me, of late, Saturday night was off round the clubs and bars until I picked some guy up, then back to bed for an all night romp. Sundays were for a second session then getting rid of him. Now here I was with the same guy two nights in a row and not wanting him to leave. Slowly the concept of life without John was becoming less and less real. My reflections were interrupted by a sound that was both unfamiliar and recognisable. The cat door went, "flip-flop". We both started and looked towards the door leading to the hall. The cat had arrived! Right from the word go the cat behaved strangely. Put a cat in a new house and it normally spends ages creeping round very nervously smelling everything. This one ran straight over and jumped up first on John uttering a cross between a purr and a miaow. They touched noses and the cat sniffed several times. The cat then hopped over to me and did the same. My nose received a swift lick and the cat jumped up on my shoulder and settled down. He was a sort of "short wheel-base" cat, in that he did not have a long body. He was most obviously male, how he could sit down without doing himself a nasty I do not know. In other respects he was a black and white street cat and I would estimate about 6 months old. "Let's call him Tinker", said John. "Why Tinker?" I said, as casually as I could. Well I didn't want to let the shock of the cat's arrival show. "Well Tinker for short, his real name will be Tinkerbell." "I though Tinkerbell was a fairy" "Yup one who used to listen to conversations, then report back. All for the best mind you." he concluded. "We had better get a cat box", I said. "Oh he'll go outside to do his business. He will also not scratch the furniture, steal food, shred houseplants, unroll the toilet paper, shed hair or beg for food at table", said John with an air of certainty. "How are you so sure?" I asked "Mother would never permit it", he said as though that explained everything. "What has you mother got to do with it?" I asked. Once I get the bit between my teeth there is no stopping me. "Well she sent him"; he said. It sounded quite logical the way he said it. "Your mother sent the cat here?" "Yes of course she did." "Why?" "For protection, mainly" he said, but the last word was said darkly. "Ok let us run through this one more time, just to make sure that I've got it right. The cat is here because your mother sent it to protect you?" I said. Every time the conversation turned to his mother, cats or both, reason took wings and flew out of the window. He laughed. "My protection? I don't need any cat for protection. The cat is here to look after you." "Two pounds of cat is going to protect a full grown hairy assed man the likes of me?" I asked, "May I inquire how?" "Yes he is here to protect you, and as to how, well you really do not want to know the answer." He replied. "Meanwhile you, half my size and weight, need no protection?" this was getting more ludicrous by the minute. "Oh I have protection, it just isn't a cat. Since I am her only son, she placed a charm on me at birth. Trouble tends to avoid me and anyone who does pick on me, er, sort of has a lot of bad luck", he concluded lamely. "Quit while you're ahead Nick, me boy." I thought. "He's a nice lad, a wonderful fuck, you like having him around, but on some subjects he's barking mad. So he wants a cat as a pet, let him have one." But, as we shall see, I was wrong, the cat was mine and every word that he had uttered was the truth. To Be Continued.