By Waddie Greywolf

Chapter 6  

Angus and Shane ~   

Shane Goodnight was Angus, Charlie, Jessie and Dermont Goodnight’s baby brother.  He was a late in life child and his four older brothers were grown and established lives of their own by the time he reached school age.  Because his parents died when he was just a boy, he was taken in by his oldest brother.  While Angus tried his best, Shane just couldn’t seem to fit in.  He never seemed like he belonged anywhere.  He felt cheated he didn’t have the home life his brothers had, and it created a great deal of angst within him.  It was always an open sore with him no amount of love seemed to heal.

Angus wasn’t a psychologist.  He was a good ole boy,— a brown dirt cowboy who knew about horses, cattle and all aspects of ranch life.  He was totally unprepared for a young boy who was dumped in his lap during the early years of his marriage.  A young kid who soon turned into a rebellious teenager.  He didn’t have a clue how to deal with a kid like his baby brother.  Angus dealt with his little brother out of sympathy. 
He felt sorry for Shane because he didn’t have the solid family life Angus and his brothers had.  Shane was his brother, not his child.  Angus knew how he loved his other brothers.  Surely if he loved Shane enough, he would come to see what Angus was trying to do for him.  Given enough time, Angus prayed Shane would come to love, respect, appreciate him and allow Angus to guide him.  Angus thought if he provided Shane with everything he wanted he wouldn’t feel so alone or left out.  He tried to buy his little brother’s love.  No one could fault Angus.  The big cowboy did his best.  Unfortunately, his best wasn’t what Shane needed.  To Angus’ dismay he realized too late he'd been too soft on Shane.

Angus tried to treat him like a little brother rather than become a dad to him, but that’s not what Shane needed.  He needed a strong alpha-male,— a dad or surrogate father to kick his ass up between his shoulder blades, yank him up by his short hairs and administer some tough love when he misbehaved.  Shane would actually become jealous of his nephews when Angus corrected or punished them.  Angus wasn’t prepared to treat his baby brother that way.  As a result, Shane became sullen and withdrawn, he felt like Angus didn’t love him as much as he loved his boys.  Shane became a big burden to Angus and his family for a number of years; however, out of a bad situation sometimes a modicum of good may come.  His experience with Shane taught Angus pretty damn quick how to handle any problems with his own kids.

Angus swiftly nipped any thoughts of rebellion or disobedience in the bud when he even suspected trouble might be brewing, and he took no prisoners.  When they did wrong, by God, they got punished.  Angus didn’t spare the rod, but he made damn sure they understood why they were being punished and he made them understand, while he loved them dearly he simply would not tolerate such actions from them.  He made his kids understand, until they were old enough to leave the nest and provide for themselves, he was their unofficial master and in his home his word was as sacred as the Lord’s.  If you wanted to live happy and comfortably in his household, Angus was not to be challenged.

If one of them needed to be punished, they never repeated the same mistake twice, because they knew the next time would be twice as bad, and the first time was bad enough; they would never forget it.  As a results, Angus raised four thoughtful, considerate, well mannered kids who became well thought of in their community, and went on to become successful parents with kids of their own.  Angus was once asked how he was able to raise such fine children when other parents pulled their hair out trying to get their kids to behave.  

“Leave yore’ kids short on pocket money, but long on hugs.”  was his response.

It wasn’t like Angus just gave up on Shane overnight.  Shane’s passive/aggressive manipulations went on for a number of years until Angus was at his wit’s end.  Angus went to great lengths to reason with him.  At one time or another the entire family got involved trying to help Shane.  He got his brothers together several times to talk with him, but it didn’t do any good.  Shane was young and headstrong and looked upon his brothers as little more than cowboys or country bumpkins.  What did they know?  He started drinking, hanging out with drug dealers and prostitutes.  He would get into trouble, but Angus was always right there to bail him out, take him home and sober him up.  Shane would be remorseful and promise never to fall into his old ways again.  He’d play the game for a while, then one day, he wouldn’t come home and Angus would have to go out looking for him. The family's well meaning but misguided efforts were like casting pearls before swine or their bread upon the water.   

Shane got into a lot of trouble after he graduated high school and was sentenced to become an indentured slave for a minimum of ten to a maximum of fifteen years.  He didn’t kill anybody, but there was a lot of property damage, drug possession and petty theft involved.  He was lucky it was only ten to fifteen years.  Any sentence over thirty years meant automatic enslavement for life with no chance for manumission; however, with a set sentence for a given number of years meant no one could grant him manumission until he served his minimum sentence of ten years as a slave; unless, there were mitigating circumstances that might be brought before a court to lessen his sentence.  It rarely happened, but once in a great while some slave would do some unselfish, heroic deed and have his sentence reduced.

Shane was warned by the judge if he didn’t behave, the court was more than willing to extend his sentence several more years or even life.  As the judge carefully explained to a repentant Shane if all went well, he worked hard, became a good, obedient slave for his master and he changed his ways, at the end of ten years he would be given a hearing.  If he had no major incidents against him, the quarterly reports from the State Indentured Slave Monitors were acceptable, and he had a couple of people in the community who would stand before the court on his behalf, he would then become a free man again; however, he would be on probation for another five years.

The slightest infraction or bad review from a Probation Officer could easily return him to his slave status for the rest of his fifteen year sentence.  Also the time he spent as a free man after the ten years would not be included in that five years; his time would start from the second enslavement.  If he was good for four years, eleven months and twenty-nine days and fucked up on the last day of his probation, he could spend another five years enslaved or longer depending on the offense.  

When Shane was enslaved, the older brothers pooled their resources, Angus pulled some strings, called in a few favors he had in the community and bought his youngest brother as his slave.  It was hard at first because Shane just thought old rough talking, softhearted Angus was there to once more bail him out.  What of it?  No sweat!  No big deal,— so he had to be his brother’s slave in name only.  He might have to clean up his act some.  That was cool with him, he could live with that; however, it didn’t work out quite that way for Shane.

Because of Angus’ friends and political connections Shane never went up for auction like a regular slave; however, until all the paperwork was done and payment could be made he remained in the State and County Auction Facility.  They processed him like any other slave and inserted an identification chip deep within the musculature of his left shoulder.  A price was set to cover the claims of property damage and to satisfy fines for drug possession and petty theft.  The total came to several hundred thousand dollars.  With his brother’s help, Angus paid the money and the paperwork was completed in one afternoon transferring ownership of one male slave, Daniel Shane Goodnight, to rancher and businessman, Angus Shamus Goodnight.  Because of guilt and a deep abiding love for his little brother, Angus paid the lion’s share.  It wiped out his savings and all of Angus’ profits for the year, with which, he intended to by new machinery for the ranch.
The afternoon Angus brought Shane home from the Auction house he made sure his family was away visiting with relatives for a long weekend.  Angus was ominously silent during the drive back to the ranch.  He said almost nothing and would only nod or give short replies to Shane’s comments.  Shane was going through his usual routine, telling Angus how sorry he was, how ashamed of himself he was, and he promised he wouldn’t do anything like that again.  Thank God Angus came to his rescue and kept him from becoming a slave.  How grateful he was.  He’d learned his lesson.  Angus could trust him now.  Angus couldn’t remember how many times he listened to the same speech before.  Angus pulled his big truck over to the side of the road and killed the engine.  He sat there quietly for a moment looking at the road ahead.  Shane was very quiet.  

“Shane, I want you to understand something,— you’re no longer a free man,— you’re a slave now.  You’re my slave.  Our brothers and me, we dug deep into our pockets to buy you to make sure you didn’t go to some bastard of a slave owner who would abuse you and through lies and deceit get chore’ ass enslaved for life.  A slave don’t have much defense against the word of his master, especially if he’s got several paid witnesses who will swear they saw the slave commit some offense.  You know as well as I do the number of indentured slaves who have been wrongfully enslaved for life by some unscrupulous slave owner is very high.  It’s done every day.  It’s too damn easy for the courts to rubber stamp an owner’s request to have an indentured slave’s term extended for life.  Yore’ brothers and me couldn’t let that happen to you.  We won’t let it happen.

I want you to understand, to afford to buy you, I had to cancel buying some much needed mechanical equipment for the ranch, which would enhance our profits and make me and my family a little more comfortable.  It wiped out our savings and all profits we made on the ranch this last year.  As a result I may have to take a mortgage on the ranch at the end of the year.  There’s a possibility we could lose it altogether and my family will have no place to go.  I don’t really think you appreciate the seriousness of what you’ve done and how costly it’s affected those who love you; however, your family was in unanimous agreement to cutback where we can to make this happen.  It wasn’t just one person being affected, Shane,— it’s everyone in our family.

I’m only gonna’ say this once, Shane, and I want you to listen very carefully.  I’m sorry your life didn’t go the way you thought it should.  I’m sorry I wasn’t wise enough to treat you as one of my kids instead of trying to treat you like my little brother.  I’m sorry you found it necessary to live your life in such a way as to bring us to this point, but the fact remains you did and now for the first time in your life, you must accept the consequences of your actions.  No one is willing to do it for you anymore.

I’m also sorry for what I have to do for you to save you from yourself,— from your own selfish, self-destructive drive.  You may think, because of some of the things you may face in the coming three months, I don’t love you.  H’it ain’t true, Shane.  I want you to know, no matter what happens between us from this point on, I have loved you and I will always love you.  You’re my baby brother and what I’m about to do, I’m doing not for revenge or to punish you, but because I love you and, by God, I have pledged myself to save you.

Now,— I ain’t used to having no slave speak to me unless I give him permission, especially in the first three months I own him.  As you know, there’s a break in period for all new slaves.  If you resign yore’self to the fact you’re now a slave it will go smoothly for you.  If not, I promise it will be rough.  The more you resist, the tougher I will make it for you.  H’it don’t make me no never mind, you can make it easy on yore’self, or you can make it tough, the choice is up to you, but I guaran-damn-tee-ya, at the end of the three month period, you will be broken as a slave.  You will learn how to think like a slave, act like a slave, but most importantly, you will be a slave.

You will be treated like any other slave on my property.  There will be no special treatment or privileges for you.  You will go through the same three month training all slaves go through on my ranch.  You are now just another one of my slaves; therefore, unless you want me to pull you out of this gotdamned truck, rip them fuck’n clothes off’n you and beat chore’ ass until it bleeds, you won’t say another word until I tell you to.  Do you understand?”  Angus spoke firmly and deliberately to him.

“Yes, Sir, brother!”  Shane said sarcastically.  That was all it took for Angus to explode.  He pulled back and backhanded Shane across his mouth causing blood to splatter over the passenger door and the windshield in front of him.  Shane put both hands to his face, wailing and sobbing in pain.

“Look at me, slave!”  Angus demanded.  “Look at me now, or I’m gonna’ hit chu’ again only this time it’ll be harder; I’ll put chore’ fuck’n lights out!”

Shane looked at him and Angus could see he hurt his lip pretty bad, but it would heal.

“Don’t you ever speak to me in that manner again.  This is not playtime, or give and take.  You’re my slave!  I’m your owner,— your Master!  The proper way to address me as your Master is ‘Sir,’ ‘Master,’ or you may call me ‘Master Angus.’  You will never again call me yore’ brother,— you got that, you worthless little maggot?”  Angus was right in Shane’s face.  Shane didn’t answer right away.  “You better answer yore’ Master when he asks you a question, slave!”  Angus yelled even louder and drew back his arm to hit Shane again.

“Yes, Sir, Master Angus!  I understand, Sir!”

Angus sat there looking at Shane for a minute, then he let himself cool down.  He turned his attention back to the truck, turned the ignition, put it in gear and drove on.  Shane sobbed quietly for a while until Angus had all he could take.  Angus’ big heart was breaking, but he couldn’t let his little brother see.  He had to take control of the situation and be in charge.  It was the only way he saw to rescue his little brother, whom he loved very much, from a much more terrible fate than being his slave for ten years.

“Cut it out, slave!  You’ve had yore’ cry.  Enough is enough.  You ain’t gonna’ work me with no tears.  Your time for tears is over.  Get chore’self together right now, or I’ll stop the damn truck again, but trust me,— you don’t want me to do it a second time.”

When they arrived at the ranch Angus’ free man ranch foreman, Bill Birdsall, was waiting for them.  He was a big cowboy like Angus.  All the slaves were out working on the range.  Angus got out of the truck and told Shane to get out.

“Follow us, slave.”  Angus barked at Shane.

Shane followed the men into a small room on the back of Angus’ large barn.

“Strip, slave.  Take off all yore’ clothes.  We gotta’ process you like any other slave.”

“Angus, I’m yore’ brother, please don’t do this to me.”  Shane pleaded with his older brother.

Angus didn’t hesitate.  He backhanded Shane again and sent him reeling across the room.

“You’ve lost the right to call me brother for ten years, slave.  After you’ve served your time as a slave, we’ll talk about you being my brother again.  Until then, you’re first and foremost, my slave.  Don’t chu’ never call me yore’ brother again.  My baby brother was lost to me in that courtroom when that judge passed sentenced and you became a slave.  One day I hope to find my baby brother again, but until that time you’re nothing more than a slave and yore’ ass belongs to me.  I done told you how you’re suppose to address yore’ master.  You never listen to nobody.  ‘At’s yore’ damn problem, slave.  Well, you fuck’n well better start listening.  You will never call me by my first name again unless you put ‘Master’ before it.  No matter how much I did for you, you never showed me any respect in all the years you lived in my home, but you’re gonna’ start now.  I will no longer tolerate your disrespect.  It ends today, here, right now, this minute!  I don’t give a shit how you feel about it, you will show me the respect I deserve as your owner and Master.  Now, git chore’ damn clothes off or I’m gonna’ rip ‘em off’n you.  I ain’t a’ gonna’ tell you again. ”

Shane didn’t respond quick enough for Angus.

“Bill,— loan me yore’ Barlow knife.  I guess we gotta’ do this the hard way.”

“No, Master Angus.  I’ll be good, I promise.  I won’t give you no more problems.”  Shane ripped off his shirt, undid his Wranglers, shucked off his boots and was standing there buck-ass naked in front of the two men.”

“‘At’s better, boy.  Okay, Bill, you know what to do.”

“Yes, Sir.  I’ll take care of it.”

“You will obey and respect Mr. Birdsall without question, slave.  You will call him ‘Sir,’ ‘Master,’ ‘Master Birdsall,’or ‘Master Bill.’  For the first three months of your training, you will only speak when spoken to and asked a direct question.  You will obey every command at all times without hesitation.  If you fail to comply you will be punished.  Do you understand, slave?”

“Yes, Sir, Master, I understand.”

“Fine!  Come git me when you’re done, Bill.”

“Yes, Sir, Boss.”

Bill Birdsall got busy and ordered Shane up on the prep table.  He first denuded his body of all hair including his eyebrows with a pair of electric clippers.  He applied a depilatory paste all over his body except for his eyes.  After it remained on for almost thirty minutes he ordered Shane outside to the back of the barn.  He took a garden hose with a pistol-grip nozzle and rinsed Shane down.  He took a wash cloth, applied a large quantity of liquid soap and scrubbed Shane like he would one of his prize ponies.  He didn’t seem the least shy about washing the young man’s private parts or checking him to see if all his hair was removed.

He hosed Shane down again for the last time.
  The big cowboy threw Shane a towel and told him to dry himself as quickly as possible.  When Master Birdsall was satisfied he was dry enough, he ordered him to climb onto a metal rack by the side of the barn and strapped Shane onto it tightly so he couldn’t move.  He walked away from Shane and left him there to dry in the warm sun.  It wasn’t a hot day.  After a while, Shane got tired of laying there and started hollering for Bill to come let him off the rack.  Had he forgotten about him?

Bill Birdsall was almost as big as Angus, but he was buffed out to the max.  He worked out every day with improvised weight sets he and some of the slaves made and kept in a stall in the old barn.  Soon all the slaves were working out and looking good.  Angus was impressed by the change in their bodies and attitudes.  For Christmas that year he bought them a full set of Olympic weights and a couple of benches.

Bill was a cowboy of the old school.  He was hardworking, quiet, stoic and wouldn’t put up with any nonsense from the slaves he was foreman over.  He was hard, but he was fair.  He demanded and got a full day’s work from each slave cowhand.  All his slaves were devoted to him.  They knew they had a better life than ninety percent of the slaves in the world.  Even though Shane had no sexual interest in men, he often looked upon Bill Birdsall as an attractive man.

Bill walked out of the barn in a lazy stroll.  He didn’t say anything to Shane as he walked up to him.  He stood there in front of him looking at him as Shane ranted he was hot, uncomfortable and he wondered if Bill had forgotten about him.  The foreman adjusted the rack so Shane’s head was level with Bill’s waist.

“Open yore’ mouth, slave, I need to check yore’ teeth for fillings.”

Shane opened his mouth and Bill began to look into his mouth.

“A bit wider, slave.”   

Shane stretched his mouth open as far as he possibly could.  With one swift, sure movement, Bill had a penis plug in Shane’s mouth, down his throat and strapped in tight.  Shane was trying to make all sorts of protest, but Bill calmly readjusted the rack like it was and stood before him again.  Bill breathed deeply, held the air in his lungs for a moment and let it out in an audible sigh.

“Ahhh,— now, that’s nice.”  he said calmly.  “You hear that, slave?  You know what that is?  It’s the sound of silence.  It’s quiet again.  Now, maybe I can get some work done.  Yore’ Master done told you, you’re not to speak unless directly spoken to and asked a question.  You will remain plugged until you can keep your mouth shut.  You have a three month processing period, so the sooner you start think’n and acting like a slave the easier it’s gonna’ be on you.  I could care less what you want or how you feel, you just ain’t that important in the scheme of things around here no more, you’re a fuck’n slave, I can do with you as I damn well please for as long as I please and there ain’t a damn thing you can do about it.”  Bill turned on his boot heels and walked away back into the barn.

Shane came to realize Bill Birdsall operated on cowboy time.  He never did anything fast.  He would eventually get around to doing everything he was suppose to, but it would be in Master Bill’s time.  There was very little that ruffled him and Shane couldn’t ever remember seeing Master Bill angry or excited about anything.  He took life and everything that came his way in a relaxed and comfortable manner.

A couple of the slaves came looking for Master Bill and passed by Shane on the rack.  They only paid him cursory interest.  Shane was embarrassed to be so displayed naked.  He felt like a piece of meat waiting for the butcher.  In a way, he way.  His two masters had every intention of carving away from him the fat of his previous existence.  When they were through with him he would be a broken, lean, obeying machine, devoid of any thoughts of himself. The slaves went into the barn to Master Bill’s office.  

Soon Master Bill came out with the two slaves.  They were carrying two shovels.  Master Bill instructed them to dig a hole right under Shane about three feet deep and about two feet in diameter.   The slaves were men Shane knew and liked.  He’d talked with them many times.  They begin to dig and for the most part ignored him.  He tried to speak to them, but they just looked up at him and smiled.  The bigger slave named Jim spoke to him.

“Easy, lad!  Easy there, Shane, boy.”  he said in a decided Irish brogue.  Jim had been found to be an illegal immigrant and was enslaved for life.  He smiled warmly at the slave on the rack,  “Take a tip from two old slave hands, lad, don’t fight it.  Accept it as quick as possible, Son, and it’ll go a lot easier on ya.’  The sooner you allow yourself to be broken, the quicker you’ll become a slave and ya’ can begin to heal.  H’it ain’t that bad, laddie buck.  Don’t fight ‘em, bucko.  Ya’ can’t win, lad.  Go with the flow.  Do’na’ struggle.”

They finished digging the hole and Jim went to get Master Bill for his approval.  Master Bill was satisfied and asked if either wanted to stick around and help him with Shane.  He stressed they didn’t have to.  They declined and left for the slave quarters.  In a little while Master Bill came out of the barn wearing a full length rubber apron and a pair of rubber boots.  He had a huge plastic enema bag with some strange contraptions on the end.  He hung it on the highest point of the slave rack.

He carefully greased Shane’s hole and inserted his first device.  He took something that looked like a syringe of water and shot it into a small plug attached to the device.  Suddenly Shane felt something growing large in his ass.  It was like a balloon was being inflated up his butt.  He struggled and tried to yell, but Master Bill didn’t pay him any attention.  He acted like he was merely doing his job, and he would do it as efficiently as possible without being rushed.

Shane watch Master Bill take another syringe and shoot some liquid into another balloon that inflated on the outside of his ass drawing the balloon inside tight creating a double seal in his ass.  The horror of what was about to happen to him came to him.  Master Bill was shutting off his ass so no liquid could escape.  He was going to fill Shane with the contents of the enema bag.  Shane groaned in horror.  He never felt more vulnerable in his life.  He never had an enema before, and the thought was not only unbearable, it was repugnant to him.  The slaves dug their hole for him to void into.  They knew what was going to happen to him.

Without further to do, Master Bill hooked up the gallon bag of fluid and checked his work.  He was satisfied everything was ready to go.  He looked up at the miserable slave on the rack and smiled.  He adjusted the rack so Shane’s legs would be in a sitting position.  He lowered the rack so Shane was parallel to the ground.  Shane was praying he was going to tell him what he was doing, but Master Bill just began whistling an old cowboy tune as he turned the petcock on the enema bag and the warm soapy liquid began to flow into Shane’s bowels.

Master Bill looked at his watch, turned and walked away.  Shane watched him disappear into the barn, still whistling his happy tune, as more and more fluid filled his gut.  He felt the balloons holding his ass tightly and no fluid could  escape.  Shane looked up at the huge bag of liquid and groaned.  How would he ever take all that.  He was already so full he was starting to cramp, but soon the cramp went away, only to be followed by another worse than the first.  It continued to fill him until his belly was extended like a balloon itself.  Shane’s mind was reeling from the discomfort and embarrassment.

Shane couldn’t understand why his dick was rock hard.  It was the most uncomfortable he’d ever been.  It wasn’t exactly painful, but it was terribly uncomfortable.  He lay there thinking about his life and the things he’d done wrong.  He remembered his brother talking with him in the truck and all his explanations.  Was Angus just bullshitting him?  He knew his oldest brother was a great bullshitter.  Had he really done something so bad to deserved this.  ‘Love me, my ass!’ he thought angrily.  ‘He only loves himself and the money I’m gonna’ make him as a slave.  Fuck him.  I’ll escape and runaway the first chance I get.’  he consoled himself; however, he knew in his heart it was a useless thought.

After what seemed to Shane like hours, Master Bill returned wearing a large pair of black rubber gloves.  He looked pleased the bag was empty and all the fluid was in Shane’s gut.  He put his hand on Shane’s belly and began to knead it like a baker would knead his dough for making bread.  Shane groaned as he felt the cold rubber gloves working his belly.  It was already uncomfortable enough, why the hell was he doing this?  After Master Bill was satisfied he’d accomplished what he set out to do, he raise the slave rack back to the vertical and Shane was once again in a sitting position.

Master Bill somehow released the fluid in the balloons and they deflated at the same time.  He stepped back just in time for Shane’s ass to literally fall out.  Shane groaned and writhed as the dirty enema solution rushed from his body.  Just when he thought there was no more in him another rush of fluid would come down his tract and rush out.  The hole beneath him was positioned perfectly.

“The worst part’s over, slave.  The next two bags will be easier on you because you won’t have so much crap in you.”

‘Two more bags?’  Shane screamed in his mind.  How was he going to survive two more bags.  This wasn’t slave training, it was cruel and inhumane torture.

Shane did survive two more bags and Master Bill was right.  The next two bags, while uncomfortable, weren’t nearly as bad as the first.  It was late afternoon when Master Bill finished with him and hosed Shane off around his genital and ass area.  He let Shane down from the rack, handed him a towel and told him to dry himself good.  Shane did as he was told.  He was still wearing the penis gag.  

Master Bill told him to follow him.  Shane obeyed and followed Master Bill into the slave training room.  In the center of the room was a short padded leather bench.  Master Bill instructed him to lay on his back on the bench.  Shane complied and no sooner lay down when Master Bill began to fasten straps to hold him on the bench.  He didn’t finish until he was sure the slave was bound tight and couldn’t escape.  The bench wasn’t long enough for Shane’s legs and feet so they just dropped over the edge.  It was only big enough to support his upper torso.

Master Bill got a couple of leather leg cuffs from a cabinet and put them on each of Shawn’s ankles.  Each had a ‘D’ring and he raised Shawn’s legs over his head and clipped the ‘D’ ring of the ankle cuffs to a chain hanging from a beam in the ceiling.  Shane’s ass was just at waist height and exposed.  Once again he felt embarrassed and exposed.  His big cock was laying across his belly like a Schlitz tall boy beer can.  Bill Birdsall was impress with its size.  

He had seen Angus’ cock on many occasions when he prepared a slave for him to fuck.   He couldn’t be sure, but he thought Angus might be a little bigger than Shane.  He knew Angus was big enough to garner awe and reverence from his slaves.  

Shane suddenly realized he was being prepared for fucking.  Surely his brother wouldn’t consider fucking him,— would he?  He couldn’t even ask with his mouth plugged.  He tried to talk with Master Bill, but he just ignored Shane.  Master Bill got a strange looking contraption from one of the cabinets.  It looked like a long rubber cock with a hole in the head like a round piss hole; however, on the other end it had what looked like a mechanic’s lube gun.

That’s exactly what it was, and Shane felt Master Bill shooting some lubricant around his hole and then used it to penetrate his ass with the long, black dildo.  Shane could feel it snaking its way up inside him, and was glad he was free of any matter inside him to hinder its progress.  It was uncomfortable but not painful.

After Master Bill had the rubber part of the lube gun as far inside Shane as he thought necessary, he slowly began to withdraw the dildo while filling Shane’s ass with lube.  He took a good size butt plug from off a shelf and began to work it into Shane’s ass.  Since Shane was a virgin it took him a while, but he finally managed to get it in and seated properly.  When he was finished he wiped the excess lubricant from Shane’s ass.

“Well, baby-slave, it’s time for yore’ grand opening.  You’re clean and ready for your Master’s use.  I’ll go get the boss in a minute and he’s gonna’ come in here and take yore’ cherry.  Then when he gits through with you he’ll leave you with me and I git to fuck you.  You relax and try to get in the mood because yore’ Master has a cock a little bigger than yours.”

Shane looked at him in horror, as Master Bill turned and walked out of the room quietly closing the door behind him.  In a while he returned with Angus.

“I see you had to plug his mouth.  We’re gonna’ have to remove that because I plan to take both holes this evening.”  Angus paused for a moment, then spoke to Shane, “Lemme’ tell you what’s gonna’ happen, slave.  Your Master’s gonna’ take you for your first time as a slave.  It’s every owner’s right to take a slave’s cherry.  I told you, you weren’t gonna’ git no special treatment and I meant it.  I will use you whenever I wish.  You will get better and better at sucking my dick and taking it up yore’ ass.  I’m gonna’ start with you sucking my dick for a little while and then I’ll fuck you.  Let me warn you, slave, if you attempt to bite me or Master Bill I will take you the slave vet and have all your teeth removed without anesthetics.  Then I will have him castrate you without anesthetics.  So don’t be a fool.  Don’t even think about it!  Do you understand?”

Shane shook his head affirmative he understood.

“Good let’s get started, shall we?  You will not speak when I remove your gag.  You have nothing to say I wanna’ hear anyway.  Nothing you could say at this point will make any difference in what’s about to happen to you.  Do you understand?”  

Shane nodded his head again he understood.

Angus took off his big cowboy hat and set it on a small table in the room.  He sat in a wooden chair and removed his boots.  He removed his Wranglers and hung them over the back of the chair.  He took his Western shirt off and removed his undershirt.  He stood there naked and Shane looked in awe at his enormous penis.  It looked like his.  It looked like a tall boy beer can.  Angus sat back down and pulled his boots back on.

“You may as well go ahead and strip, Bill.  I may want you to fuck his face while I’m fuck’n his ass.  Ain’t no use in let’n his skull pussy set there empty go’n to waste when you could be enjoy’n it.”

Bill started taking off his clothes.  When he was finished he put his boots back on and stood waiting for his boss.

“Have you got everything else ready, Son?”  Angus asked Bill.

“Yes, Sir, right here.”

He showed Angus the cattle prod he had in his hand in case Shane tried to bite him.  One shot from the prod would stop him pretty damn quick.  Bill moved to Shane’s ass keeping the prod hidden from his view.  Angus undid the strap which held the penis gag in Shane’s mouth, removed it and set it aside on a shelf.

Shane didn’t notice when he lay down on the short table there was a break in the table were his head was resting.  I was a detachable part that only acted to hold his head when he was in resting position.  Angus flipped the catch underneath the support that held the hinged piece in place and it dropped away from under Shane’s head.  He head was thrown back and down so it rested right at the height his brother’s cock was.  The big fat monster with one eye was staring him right in the face.

“Open wide baby-slave yore’ new Master’s movin’ in.”  Shane didn’t open his mouth.  He was going to try to resist.  He saw a sneer come across his brother’s face.

“I ain’t gonna’ fool with him, Bill.  He’s gotta’ learn.  Give ‘em a shot.”

Master Bill touched Shane’s butt and pressed the button on the cattle prod.  Shane’s body jumped so hard he almost pulled the straps out binding him to the table.  He let out a yell that could be heard all over the ranch.

“Now,— let’s try this again.”  Shane had tears running down his face, but his head was back in position and his mouth was wide open waiting for his Master’s big fat cowboy dick.  It would be the first time Shane ever had a man’s penis in his mouth.  It wouldn’t be the last.  

Angus guided his dick into Shane’s mouth and made him gag a bit.

“First lesson slave.  Any master who has a foreskin like mine you clean him good before you suck him.  Close yore’ lips around my dick.  Now I’m gonna’ pull my foreskin back.  I want you to git all the sweet flavors of yore’ master’s dick.   It may taste a bit sour and bad to you right now, but at the end of three months you’ll beg me for a taste of it.  Run your tongue around the head and clean it real good for me.  ‘At’s it!  You’re doing fine.  See cock sucking ain’t so bad.”

Angus let Shane get use to his taste and smell.  He purposely didn’t clean his cock before he came out.  He was aware he had the collected odors on his dick of a full days worth of body fluids his body produced and probably a bit of head cheese as an added treat for his new slave.  Shane gagged a few times and once Angus thought he might throw up but he didn’t.

“All right, that’s enough, slave.  Now relax yore’ throat.  My dick’s as fat as your’n  and we’re gonna’ have to stretch you some, but you’ll get used to it.  You may gag a lot but work on trying not to.  You won’t be able to pass your training period until you can be properly face fucked by your masters without gaging.  The secret to good cock-sucking is learning to breath on yore’ master’s out stroke.  I may take you a while, but if’n you don’t wanna’ pass out you’ll learn purdy damn quick.  Here we go.”

Angus started face fucking him.  He place his hand under Shane’s head and lifted him just a bit so his fat dick would be aimed right at his throat.  He fucked and fucked at the same penetration for while.  Shane gagged a few times but nothing major.  Angus decided to fuck him deeper and was surprised Shane was taking him with little problem.  Bill watched as Shane’s throat would swell as Angus’ huge cock would enter.  Angus kept that up for a while and decided to go a little deeper.

The very next stroke he penetrated Shane’s throat pretty deep.  Bill was a little amazed Shane hadn’t tried to resist some way, and he had the cattle prod poised like a venomous snake.  Angus looked down and could see the tears streaming down Shane’s face.  He could feel them dropping on his hand, but he continued to fuck his face at the same depth.  He decided he wouldn’t go further.  Finally he stopped and pulled out.  He was still holding Shane’s head as he laid his fat cock over his face.

“Slave manners dictate you kiss your master’s cock, slave, and thank him for honoring you with his dick and fucking yore’ face.”

Shane began to kiss and lick his brother’s big dick and Angus heard him say, “Thank you master for giving me the honor of suck’n yore’ dick.  Thank you for fucking my face, Sir.”

“‘At’s good for a start, slave.  Now let’s pop yore’ other cherry.”

Angus reach down and brought the headrest up and it clicked into place supporting Shane’s head.  Angus move to the other end of the table and looked into Shane’s eyes.  He was looking for defiance, but instead he saw fear, shame and embarrassment.  ‘Good!’  he thought, ‘I can deal with them.’  Defiance, however, will not be tolerated.  Angus wasted no time in getting down to business.

“The first time a man gits fucked is always the hardest.  It may hurt like a mother fucker, but you lay there and take it like the slave you are.  To ease yore’ mind you’re clean inside so my size won’t damage you.  You might even find it feels purdy good after a while.”

Angus popped out Shane’s butt plug Master Bill inserted earlier and handed it to him.  Bill wrapped it in a towel and set it on a table.  Angus held out his hand for some grease.  Bill took the lube gun he lubed Shane with earlier and shot a big wad into Angus’ hand.  Angus applied it generously to his fat dick.  He positioned himself with the big mushroom head of his penis at Shane’s rosebud.  He teased his hole a couple of time and tested the tensile strength of the muscle.

Angus was trying to judge how tight Shane was.  He could tell the butt plug loosened him a little.  Angus leaned forward looking deeply into Shane’s eyes and drove himself home in one sure, fluid motion.  Shane gasp and his eyes opened wide as his back arched to try to get away from the huge shaft he was just impaled on, but the straps across his chest held him tight.  He wasn’t going anywhere.  He let out a yell and started cursing a blue streak.  

“Take it out!  Oh, my God, it hurts!  You fuck’n son of a bitch!  You sadistic motherfucker!  How could you do this to your own brother?  You’re right, asshole!  You ain’t my brother no more!  Who, the fuck, would want a worthless piece a’ shit like you for a brother!  I hate you, Angus!  I pray to God you die a horrible death, you bastard!”

“Bill make a note of that.”  Angus said with little emotion in his voice,  “Ten strokes with the whip tomorrow.  I’ll administer the punishment myself.  Oh, yes, and five more for calling his own mother a bitch.  I’m afraid what we have here is a failure to communicate.  I guess he’s jes’ gonna’ have to learn the hard way.  I ain’t surprised.  He never would listen to nobody anyway.  He’s so fuck’n hardheaded, you couldn’t tell him nothing.  He always knew more’n ever’body else did.  He was smarter’n ever’body.  Must not a’ been too damn smart, here he is a worthless piece of slave meat with my dick up his butt learn’n how a Master takes his slave’s cherry.

I can see his three months of slave training is gonna’ be a living hell for him.  Too bad, because he was once my little brother, and I’s kinda hoping he’d ease into it for his sake.  The more he resists, the worse we’re gonna’ make it for him.  There’s only one option here, and it don’t take no fuck’n rocket scientist to figure it out.  We hold all the cards.  He will be broken, and he will become a docile, well trained, obedient slave.  I was kinda dread’n having to do this, but he jes’ changed my mind for me.  I think I’m really gonna’ enjoy it now.  What say we git chu’ fucked, slave?”

“Go to hell!”  Shane yelled at Angus.

“You jes’ earned yore’self five more lashes with the whip, slave.”

“Bill git chore’self around there and fill his skull pussy with yore’ dick so’s we don’t have to listen to his bullshit no more.  Give him a good face fuck’n and make sure he swallows yore’ load when you come.”

“Right, Boss.”  Bill moved to Shane’s head, lowered the headrest, told Shane to open wide and shoved his considerable piece of meat down his throat.  He began fucking him deeper than Angus did.

Angus let his cock remain in Shane without moving it.  He could feel the boy’s ass starting to calm down.  It was spasming so hard it felt like it was trying to chew Angus’ cock off.  It was a thrilling feeling for Angus, for once to be in control of his youngest brother.  His dick was harder than it had been in a year or more.  Shane had always blown him off as a country bumpkin he just couldn’t show any respect to no matter how good Angus was to him.  Now he had nine and a half inches of fat country bumpkin cock up his butt his ass was sucking on.  

Shane remembered feeling Angus’ huge, bull like balls slap against his ass as he drove his dick into him.  Even though he was a bit more loose than if he hadn’t had the plug in him, it still had to be the most painful thing he’d ever experienced.  He actually thought for a minute he was going to die.  He was thrashing his head from side to side as the pain slowly began to subside, but it left him with an uncomfortable full feeling like he needed to take a big dump.

Shane had all his could do to breath properly as Master Bill was slowly but methodically fucking his throat.  He wasn’t paying much attention to his ass until he felt Angus begin to stir.  Angus moved his cock out just a bit then put it all the way back in.  Shane was amazed something as simple as moving his big dick a couple of times seemed to shift everything around inside and was beginning to feel just a bit more comfortable.  He still felt like he needed to take a big dump so he decided to just relax his bowels and try to shit his assailant out of his ass.

Angus felt Shane’s pushing and used it to his advantage.  This was what he was hoping for.  He withdrew almost to the head of his cock and then returned it the full length back into Shane.  Angus was so well lubricated and Shane’s ass was full of lube there was no resistance to Angus’ dick sliding in.  He started fucking Shane in earnest.  To Shane’s amazement all the hurt and pain had gone away.  All that was left was a wonderful full feeling on his brother’s in-stroke and an even more wonderful feeling as he move out of his ass.

Every time Angus’ dick hit his prostate, Shane would moan.  Bill was enjoying Shane’s moaning sound as it felt good to his pulsating dick.  He knew it wouldn’t be too long before he would be erupting in the slave’s mouth, but he would wait to see if his boss wanted to climax together.  They had enjoyed many slaves together.  Angus was Bill’s ideal of what he thought a successful family man and rancher should be.  It pained him to see him so upset with Shane.  He knew beneath the hard-nosed facade, Angus was hurting.  Bill watched his bull of a boss fucking his little brother’s ass, and it  excited him.  Angus was fucking Shane steadily now.  He was about to kick it up a notch.

Shane’s dick got roaring hard.  He was mortified.  It was embarrassing to think what was being done to him against his will was stimulating him, but he had to admit his big brother was starting to feel pretty damn fine.  Was this what queers felt when they got fucked?  Maybe there was something to this after all.  Angus smiled as he looked down at his little brother’s dick and could see the pool of pre-come on his belly.

“Yeah, yore’ Master’s big fat cowboy cock is feel’n pert-damn good to you,— ain’t it, slave.  It’s time to spur my pony in the flanks and take it to the barn.  I’m taking your cherry, slave, I’m gonna’ fill your ass full of my cowboy country bumpkin come, fuck face.”

Angus started fucking Shane harder and with much more powerful strokes.  It was about to drive Shane crazy.  He didn’t know how much more he could take, it was feeling so damn good.  He didn’t want it to feel good.  This wasn’t right.  He wasn’t suppose to be enjoying this.  God help him, he couldn’t help it, he found himself lifting his ass a bit to better meet his big brother’s strokes.

“I’m just about to shoot, Bill.  You close?”

“I’m there, Boss, say the word.”

“Now, pod’na!  Let’s fill ‘em up.  Aaaeeeee!  Ride ‘em cowboy!  Lucky slave’s catching his Master’s spunk.  Ahhhhh, shit yeah!”  Angus moaned as he emptied volley after volley of his hot cowboy cream up Shane’s butt.  At the same time Bill was exploding in Shane’s mouth and throat.  He had no choice but to swallow Master Bill’s cowboy spunk.  Shane marveled it didn’t taste as repulsive as he might have imagined.  It was hot, a bit salty, but it wasn’t bad.  He swallowed and swallowed as Angus continued to pound his ass, when suddenly something inside him snapped.  He couldn’t believe he was close to orgasm.  Oh no!  This wasn’t suppose to happen.  Is my brother turning me into a queer?   Oh, God, it’s feeling too damn good.  I can’t hold it back!  He moaned loudly.

Shane shot his load in three huge volleys.  Angus looked at Bill, smiled and winked.  Master Bill had a grin on his face as wide as Texas.  Neither man said anything about Shane’s ejaculation.

Bill instructed the slave how to clean his cock.  He pulled back his foreskin so Shane could clean him thoroughly.  He lay his cock on Shane’s head and was surprised to hear Shane thank him.

“Thank you Master Bill for giving me the honor of sucking your dick and  drinking your fine tasting come.”  Then to both their surprise they heard him say.  “Thank you, Master Angus for taking my cherry and fuck’n my ass.  I’m sorry I was such an asshole.”

“Okay, but you’re still gonna’ git punished, baby-slave, for your outburst.  You will control yore’ temper and rage or else face the consequences.  Outburst like that won’t be tolerated.  We’re gonna’ make damn sure it don’t happen again.”

Bill brought the headrest back up to support Shane’s head and neck.  Angus walked around to Shane’s head, put his cock right at his mouth, pulled back his considerable foreskin to expose his cock-head.

“Kiss your master’s dick, slave.  Tell him how much you appreciate him fucking you.”

Shane kissed the big mushroom head of Angus’ cock.

“Thank you, Master Angus, I appreciate you fucking me real good.”

“All right.  That’s a start, slave.  There may be hope for you yet.  Plug his ass again, Bill.  There’s a draft in here.”  Angus winked at his foreman.  Bill smiled.  “We don’t want any of his master’s good come leaking out.  He needs to absorb that in his gut so it’ll help him know who he belongs to.”  Bill swiftly returned the plug to Shane’s ass.  “And let’s introduce him to his pacifier, Bill.”

Shane couldn’t understand what just happened to him.  Why did he get sexually arouse when his big brother was viciously fucking him?  All he could think about was he wanted Angus to fuck him harder.  If he didn’t have a cock down his throat he knew he would’ve called out to Angus.  He would’ve called him his ‘master’ and begged him to fuck him harder.  How could such a vicious, hate filled act like homosexual rape be so stimulating to him?  He could see what was developing was nothing more than mind control.  He didn’t want to go along with it, he wouldn’t go along with it if he could resist,  but what choice did he have?  Angus was right, the cards were stacked against him.  Hell, he wasn’t even holding a joker.

Why did he thank his brother for raping him?  It didn’t come from fear or horror of the situation, it came from the depths of his soul.  It seemed more like a gut level response to a strongly sexually motivated impulse.  He hated himself for saying that to Angus.  He was so confused, and he had no one to talk with about it.  Maybe it would be better just to give in and as Jim his slave friend told him ‘go with the flow.’  Maybe he should allow himself to become a slave.  What choice did he have?  It was obvious Angus wasn’t going to negotiate.  Shane wasn’t going to fast talk his way around his big brother this time.  God, he was looking at ten long years living under the abject total domination of his brother’s will.  Did his other brothers know what was happening to him?  He knew Charlie would never approve of such a thing.

Master Bill went to a cabinet and returned with a flesh colored, soft rubber penis.  It looked like a real penis and was about six inches long, but at the base was a round plastic stop and a ring on the other side like a baby’s pacifier.

“Open wide, Slave.  This is yore’ pacifier.”  Shane opened his mouth and Master Bill deftly slipped the rubber penis into his mouth all the way to the stop.  Shane was surprised, it wasn’t that uncomfortable and if he didn’t know better, he would think it was a man’s penis in his mouth.  “Since you’re gonna’ be doing an awful lot of cocksucking, slave, this pacifier is for you to suck on when you don’t have a freeman’s dick or one of your slave-brother’s dicks to suck on.  We want you to feel like it’s the most natural thing in the world for you to have a man’s penis in your mouth and the only way to do it is to keep one in your hole.  You will wear yore’ pacifier at all times, unless you’re asked a direct question by your Masters.  Then you may remove it, answer your Master, then return it to your mouth immediately.  It’s to remind you you’re not to speak unless spoken to, and it’s to control outburst of temper like you had a few minutes ago.  You may remove it to communicate with your slave brothers, but then you must immediately return it to your mouth.  You may remove it upon going to bed, but you must put it in your mouth immediately upon rising in the morning.  For the next three months, you are never to be without it.  If you're caught by your Masters  without it, you will be severely punished.  If one of the slaves catches you without it, he’s required to tell his Masters.  Do you understand, slave?”  Shane nodded his head he understood.

“Now, lemme' see you suck on it real good.”

Shane started actively sucking on the rubber penis in his mouth.

“That’s fine, slave.  You keep suck’n on it 'til I tell you to stop.  If Master Angus and I or one of your slave-brothers asks you to show us how good you can suck dick you do what you’re doing right now.  ‘At’s it!  Suck a little faster, slave, you can do better’n ‘nat.  There, that’s better.  Good, slave!  Now, you keep that up for a while until I git back to you.”

Angus looked at Shane sucking on his pacifier for all he was worth and started laughing at him.  Shane had never felt so embarrassed or humiliated in his life, but his dick was roaring hard.  Angus walked over to him and took hold of Shane’s big dick, looked at it and looked Shane in the eyes and grinned real big.  Shane just kept on sucking.  He wondered if he looked like Maggie Simpson.  Master Bill handed Angus a warm, damp towel and he began to clean himself.  They let Shane lay there sucking on his pacifier as they cleaned up and began to talk about Angus’ plans for his new slave’s three months of training.

“You got chore’ clipboard, Bill?  I’m gonna’ give you some instructions about his first week.  I was hoping we didn’t have to be too hard on him, but he ain’t got off to a real good start.  Let’s schedule his whipping for tomorrow morning after breakfast before we send the men out to work.  Don’t feed him until after I punish him.  I don’t want him throw’n up.  It breaks my concentration.  I want all the slaves to witness their baby-slave brother’s punishment.  Have that four foot multilayered whip ready for me.  It’ll cover a wider area and do less damage.

Let’s plan an introduction to the other slaves tomorrow evening.  They already know each other, but I plan to tell ‘em my plans for this slave.  At that time I’ll tell them what I expect from them to help in his training.  I plan to tell them he’s just another baby-slave.  Ain’t nothing special ‘bout ‘em and they’s to treat him like any other slave.  It’s been a while since we had ourselves a baby-slave, but they all know the drill.  Get the ‘baby-slave’ sign and hang it off’n his tits tomorrow morning after he’s fed.  He’s to wear it every day.

Call the vet and git him out here tomorrow or the next day.  I want his tits ringed, his nose ringed and his dick ringed.  After his tits are ringed we won’t need to use the alligator clips to hold his sign between his tits no more.  I wasn’t gonna’ ring him, but I fear the worst with him.  If’n he wants to play hardball so be it.  I wouldn’t trust his word right now as far as I could throw ‘em.  So we’re gonna’ do this my way.  He’ll have to earn our trust.”

“Yes, Sir, Boss.”

It became a tradition at Angus Goodnight’s  ranch to call any new slave in training the “baby slave.”  During the three months of intensive training he would only be known as ‘baby-slave,’ and he would be forced to refer to himself as such.  Angus and Bill found it helped a slave accept his place and adjust faster if he was forced to refer to himself as a baby.  It was also instrumental in easing a new slave into the pecking order of a slave group without a great deal of physical abuse for the new slave.  All slave groups have a pecking order.  It’s just an accepted fact among owners and trainers.  Having to relate to his peers as the lowest man or baby clearly defined for him his place and allowed him into their protection on a basic level.  The baby-slave could only wear a diaper everywhere during first three months until his Masters were satisfied he was housebroken.  He could wear his boots, but that’s about all.

It wasn’t Angus or Bill’s idea.  It started with the other slaves.  Bill Birdsall wasn’t a vain or proud man.  You certainly couldn’t call him stubborn or inflexible.  He was a good hearted man who could be fair but firm.  He could recognize a good thing when he saw it and sometimes gave his slaves their head and let them take the reins.  Within reason he allowed their ideas and suggestions to be implemented into the training of new slaves at the Goodnight ranch.

Bill had a couple of degrees in Slave Management and Slave Psychology, but he wasn’t prepared for the dramatic effect some of the slave’s suggestions had on a new slave.  Master Bill, as he was known to his slaves, later wrote a couple of books on his personal experiences and what he learned from slaves about training other slaves.  It made him a wealthy man and won him several honorary doctorates from various universities.

His practices and methods were widely adopted and were praised by many slave trainers and owners alike.  Bill’s books were regarded as the definitive authority and required text for college level classes on Slave Training and Psychology.  When he wasn’t working at the ranch he was traveling the Southwest on lecture tours.  He appealed not only to the academics, but also to the common man; ranchers, farmers or businessmen who might own a couple of slaves and wanted to learn more about handling and management.  Bill was one of them.  He spoke their language.

He’s talks were always filled with personal anecdotes and warm humor that made them entertaining as well as educational.  His name became a common household word.  If a slave was really well trained they referred to him as ‘a billy-boy.’  Master Bill was even offered a position by Texas A & M to head up their Slavery Education Department.  He declined the offer to remain on the Goodnight ranch.  No one could understand why.
Despite his notoriety and considerable wealth stashed away, Bill Birdsall was a modest man.  He was a cowboy,— the very salt of the Earth.  He had no need for expensive things and was quite content to continue his working relationship with Angus Goodnight.  Unknown to all but a very few, Bill bought into Angus’ business and became a silent partner.  Angus wasn’t blind to the treasure he had in Bill and rewarded him handsomely.  The more money Angus made the more money Bill made.

Because of their accumulated knowledge, other owners were more than willing to pay Angus and Bill large sums of money to train one of their slaves for them or retrain an unruly one.  They never had a failure.  There was just something about stripping a man of his masculinity, his dignity and reducing him to the level of an infant.  Bill Birdsall recognized it as a simple but effective psychological tool.

“He’s to be allowed one cup of slave chow and one biscuit three times a day: one in the morning, another cup at noon with a biscuit, and he can have another cup and a biscuit for his evening meal.  He ain’t to have no other food for the first three months.  He ain’t gonna’ be included in Sunday dinner like the other slaves.  That’s another privilege he has to earn.  Come time for Sunday dinner we’ll lock him in his cage here in the slave training room.”

“Yes, Sir, Boss.”

“Okay, his butt stays plugged for the first two weeks.  Gonna’ stretch his hole ‘til he’s able to take the biggest dick the first time with no problem.  He’s to have his butt plugged at all times.  Use the special harness on him and make sure it’s strapped in tight.  I don’t never wanna’ check it and find a loose strap back there.  If he has to shit while he’s wear’n his plug, you remove it for him.  After he does his business and cleans himself give him his plug.  Let him clean it and return it to you.  Return it to his ass and lock it in place.  Make damn sure it’s strapped in tight.”

“Yes, Boss.  It’ll be tight.”

“Fine.  We’ll start his potty training tomorrow.  He’ll be allow to shit once a day, in the morning before his day starts.  He’ll only be allowed to piss three times a day; morning, noon and night.  Start him wearing his baby diapers tomorrow.  He might as well get used to ‘em.  ‘At’s all he’s gonna’ be wear’n for the next three months.  He can wear his boots so’s he don’t get stickers and his feet don’t git cut up, but that’s all.  If’n he has to piss and can’t hold it ‘til his piss time, he’ll jes’ have to piss in his diaper.  Since his butt is gonna’ be plugged for the first two weeks we don’t haf’ta worry none about him shit’n in his diaper.”    

“Will do, Boss.”

After two weeks having his butt plugged, Angus planned to remove it and concentrate on control of Shane.  To break a slave and rearrange his mental processes so he begins to think like a slave you first need to control every minute of his day.  He has to be told what to do and when to do it, and he has to comply or he won’t be allowed to complete his training. He’ll stay in training as long as it takes to break him.  Some learn and adapt more quickly than others.  This wasn’t unique to training a slave, the military has been doing it for centuries.

Of course, one of the most basic but important things to control is the slave’s schedule for the elimination of bodily waste.  Not only is it important to control him mentally, to understand when he can go, but also to control his body to respond to a schedule.  When you send slave-hands out to work in the morning you don’t want first one then another knocking off work to go take a shit for thirty minutes to an hour.  That cost a slave owner time and man hours of lost production from a slave.  Therefore a wise slave owner trains his slaves to go once a day in the mornings before they start work.

The mind is usually more malleable than the body.  Again, some slave’s bodies adjusted more rapidly than others.  That’s where the subtle genius of the diaper came into play.  It’s not only highly symbolic of taking a slave down to an infant level, it’s also practical and an emotionally devastating humiliation for the baby-slave when his body fails to adjust.  He has no option but to piss or shit in his diaper.  It certainly had it’s desired effect.  While Shane’s body rapidly adjusted to the piss schedule, his bowels just wouldn’t seem to catch up with the rest of the program, and he would be forced to shit in his diaper every other day or so.

While that would seem humiliating enough, he was not allowed to simply change his own diaper.  He had to convince one of his slave brothers to do it for him.  If they agreed, they had to walk him to the baby-slave changing bench in the barn, remove his diaper, dispose of it, clean him, bathe his bottom with a cloth, powder him with baby powder (of course), and put a fresh diaper on him.  It created another unfathomable conundrum for Shane.  He just couldn’t understand why he would always get an enormous erection while his slave brothers tended to his needs.

If that wasn’t bad enough, with Angus’ approval, Shane sometimes had to barter for their services.  A few would help him, out of the generosity of their spirit for their baby-slave brother.  Some didn’t.  A slave can own nothing so the only thing Shane had to barter was his body.  He would have to give the slave who helped him a blow job or agree to be fucked by him.

Attached to his slave harness, Shane was instructed to carry a leather bag of small marbles.  Master Bill got them from an old Chinese Checkers game one of Angus’ kids was throwing away.  There was five black marbles and five white ones.  If a slave wanted a blow-job after he changed Shane’s diaper, Shane had to accommodate him if there was time.  When there wasn’t enough time, and both slaves had to get back to work as quickly as possible, Shane would have to give the slave a white marble he could redeem after the day’s work.  If Shane agreed to let the slave fuck him, they had to redeem their black marble after he was cleaned out and before the watchful eyes of his masters.

“It’s gonna’ be a hot summer.  I wanna’ make sure he gets plenty of liquids.  Get one a’ them calf weaning bottles from the barn with a nipple on it.  They’s one point four liters,— about a quart and a pint. ‘At ought a’ be enough to fill ‘em up real good.  I want it filled with piss ever’ day.  You and I can piss in it whenever we have to go during the day.  If’n it ain’t full by the time comes for him to have his baby bottle, have some of the slaves fill it the rest of the way.  He’s to be locked in the small piss training cage, the bottle inserted for him and he’s not to be let out until he drinks it all.

If he refuses, use yore’ cattle prod on low setting.  If he still refuses move it up to the next level.  I doubt seriously he’ll refuse after that.  If it should happen come get me.  He’s to have a full bottle to suck dry every evening at six.  If he throws it up, fill it up again until he keeps it down.  The other slaves can come in and watch and encourage him if they want to.  We’ll leave him on the bottle for now and see how he progresses.  If he does well we’ll move him to the larger cage and he can start taking us and the slaves in the evening,— hot, straight from the tap. He won’t git out of slave training until he can take both his masters without spilling a drop.

“He gits his first baby bottle tomorrow afternoon after the slaves git back from work.  If you have to be out with the men for some reason I want a trustee slave here at all times to monitor him.  The first week we’ll just fill his baby bottle ourselves and if we don’t fill it we’ll git more from the slaves; however, any slave who contributes has to be here to watch and encourage him to drink his bottle.  He can start collecting on his own for his baby bottle next week.  It’s gonna’ be one of his jobs to make sure he has a full bottle for him to suck down in the evening.  Don’t allow him to fudge, Bill, you check it before your let him have it and if’n you ain’t satisfied it’s full enough, you top it off for him or get one of the slaves to help.”  

“Okay, Mr. Goodnight.”

Shane was laying there like a side of beef listening to all this still sucking away on his pacifier. His brother was talking about him like he was a total stranger,— like he was nothing more than a piece of livestock.  He didn’t miss the part about the baby bottle.  It shocked and horrified him.  They couldn’t really be talking about pissing in a bottle and collecting urine from the slaves for him to drink.  He heard rumors from the slaves, but he thought that’s all they were,— just rumors,— slave tales.  He didn’t really believe his big brother would require his slave’s to drink his piss.  If it was true, he cringed at the thought of having to drink five pints of piss per day.  How would he ever be able to survive with that kind of insane, inhuman treatment?  He became really fearful of the coming days.

Because Shane had a rough childhood and felt betrayed most of his youth, he had a great empathy for his brother’s slaves.  He knew all of them by name.  He spent a lot of time with them.  He always seemed to communicate with them better than his family.  They were always polite, respectful, concerned and kind to him.  He loved them all and made his views against slavery well know.  Surely they wouldn’t go along with his brother’s insane plan,— would they?  Why was this happening to him?  He was becoming so afraid he was laying on the table shaking.

“Now we come to his ‘suck’n and fucking’ schedule.” Angus continued,  “He will suck you or me or both of us off at least once a day for the first two weeks.  I want him fucked by one or both of us every evening during that period.  It will depend on my schedule.  After our two weeks with him he’ll start his toilet training and that’s going to involve some bartering with the other slaves.  Well set up a schedule whereby he has to suck off one slave and git fucked by another until he’s sucked off and been fucked at least once by ever’ slave on the ranch.

For the first week I want you to put him on the rack and clean him out in the evenings like you done today.  That was fine.  We’ll see how he progresses from there.  I’m a’ hoping we can teach him to clean himself, but he may be a slow learner.  He’s pert-damn hardheaded.  It may take us the entire three months, but I think it’ll be worth it, Bill, to have another well trained slave; and, he will be when we git through with him.”

“Yes, Sir, Boss.  What about sleeping arrangements.”

“Ah, yes.  Do you have room in your quarters for a small cot?  He don’t get a bed yet.  He’s gotta’ earn a place to sleep.”

“We ain’t got no cot.  He could sleep in a bedroll at the foot of my bed, Sir.”

“That’s sounds good.  Let’s go with that for two weeks then remind me after that and we’ll review him then.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I want an ankle cuff on him at night and a length of chain locked to your bed.  They implanted a chip in him at the Slave Facility; however,  I don’t want him git’n any ideas of running.  You know what they do to slaves what try to run.”

“Yes, Sir, and h’it ain’t purdy.”

Angus’ family was strictly kept away from Shane for his three months of training.  They didn’t need to know what was required to train a ‘baby-slave.’

“By the way, my kids have been told this barn and beyond is totally off limits for them.  They’re not to come near here for any reason.  If you see them trying to sneak out here you tell me immediately.  What goes on out here during this period is not for their eyes.”

“I understand, Boss.”  Bill replied.

“I’ll let you take it from here, Bill.  He’s all your’n.”  Bill knew what that meant.  “I gotta’ git up to the house, my wife is gonna’ call in a little while to find out things are going.  They ain’t due back ‘til Sunday afternoon late.”  Angus was putting his clothes back on.  “If you can’t find a bedroll for him for tonight, just lock him in the cage in here.  If he’s uncomfortable for a night,— tough shit.”

“Okay, Mr. Goodnight, but I think I can find him something.”

Angus was getting ready to leave and looked at Shane laying on the table one more time.  Shane didn’t look at his brother, he was looking straight at the ceiling.  Angus got a sad look on his face and just shook his head, turned on his boot heel and walked out.

“Have a good evening, Bill.  Holler if’n you need me for anything.”

“Thanks, Boss.  I will.  You have a good evening, too.”

Angus was gone.

“Okay, slave, yore’ Master’s gone.  You can stop sucking on your pacifier if you want to; however, if you’re enjoying it you may continue to suck on it.”

Bill walked over to the table and looked at Shane.  He just stood there looking at the beauty of the young man.  Shane had a natural body, with which, all the Goodnight men were gifted, and he had the same enormous cock they all had.  He knew Shane did some rodeoing.  Bill remembered him as damn good, but he wasn’t consistent with it.  He played football in highschool, he was highly intelligent, but just barely kept his grades high enough to be eligible to participate in sports.  He had a perfectly formed, young, athletic body.  

Master Bill began to imagine a vison of what Shane might look like all buffed out.  The sight in his mind’s eye was stunning.  Bill sucked in air through his teeth the image was so breathtaking.  He would make it so.  Angus wouldn’t care.  Angus gave Bill carte blanche for anything he wanted to do with Shane.  Shane would become his Pygmalion,— his chunk of Carrera marble in the hands of Michelangelo.  He would create the subordinate partner of his dreams.  Life would be good.  It was at that moment Bill Birdsall fell in love with a dream and his boss’s baby brother.  Indeed, life was very good.

Master Bill moved to the end of the table but didn’t say a word to Shane.   Until now, he really hadn’t thought much about breaking Shane.  He was confident of his abilities and saw Shane as just another slave to tear down and rebuild in the image of a slave.  Now, Shane would become his mission.  He would break this slave like no other and remold him in the image of his Master.  He wondered if that’s why God made man?  Was he trying to create the ultimate subordinate slave to love and worship him?  Given the raw material, Bill Birdsall was sure he could do better.  He reached for a towel and popped the plug out of Shane's ass.  Shane had no doubt he was going to get fucked again.

Master Bill was still naked with his stiff dick recovered from the face fucking he gave the boy earlier.  He was rock hard contemplating what his new slave would look like when he was through with him.  He positioned the head of his cowboy dick at Shane’s pucker and gently began to move it back and forth.  He kept it up, pressing a bit more each time until he felt Shane move his hips to take the head of his cock into him.  Bill still kept up his slow, short rhythmic strokes working his dick ever further into the boy’s ass.  There was no yelling or cursing this time.  Shane’s eyes were glazed over like he was in another world.  

Bill felt himself bottom out and leaned over Shane to look him in his eyes as he gently but forcefully took him.  Shane couldn’t believe the feelings that were running through his body.  This had to be the most fantastic feeling he’d ever experienced in his life.  He moved his ass slightly to give Master Bill better access to his hole, and Bill took advantage of it to take one long, huge gentle stroke into Shane.  He smiled as he slid his considerable length within the young man.  It occurred to Shane his brother may have laid claim to his cherry, but he could swear this man was after his soul.

Shane could only equate how Master Bill was fucking him as an act of compassion,— one of gentle goodness,— an act of love, perhaps.  He couldn’t be sure.  Shane sensed he was still being controlled, even at that moment, but strangely enough, it felt good to him.  There was nothing he could do about it, but this time it was different.  It was almost inviting.  It certainly was seductive.  It was wonderful and fulfilling.  Master Bill was fucking him with the gentleness and kindness that only comes from a concerned lover.  Shane felt strangely proud Master Bill was taking him.  It was a good feeling having the big, powerful cowboy use his body for his pleasure.  He felt one basic emotion every human needs,— he felt wanted,— he felt needed.  Shane grasp onto the feeling like a drowning man going down for the last time.  While he was still getting fucked against his will, there was absolutely no angst involved.  All he had to do was lay back and enjoy the ride, and there was more than a little comfort in that.

* * * * * * *

It was the longest three months of Shane’s life.  Every moment of his day was planned and monitored.  He had absolutely no privacy except when he was alone in his bedroll at night at the foot of Master Bill’s bunk.  He fought against becoming a slave every step of the way.  His fellow slaves were worried for him.  Even though they were forced to make him suck them off, drink their piss, and fuck him, they all were fond of him.  They didn’t want to see him go through what he did.  They tried to talk with him and told him to just give in, but Shane was stubborn.  He felt Angus would crack before he did.  He was wrong and he soon began to see this was going to go on until he was broken.  Maybe it was time for him to reconsider.  Try as he may, he just couldn’t seem to get his body to become conditioned to shitting early in the morning before the day started.  Shane would sit in the slave’s outhouse for an hour or more trying to force himself to shit to no avail.  When he finally gave up he knew his day would be hell.  He would shit his diaper almost every day.  If the other slaves were busy, he had to wear it until they returned, and he could ask one to change it for him.  It was humiliating and embarrassing.  He didn’t like putting his fellow slaves through it either.

The Sunday afternoon before his last two weeks he overheard Angus talking to Master Bill.

“I know he’s got two more weeks, but it don’t look like he’s gonna’ make it, Bill.  I wish’t we had more time to let him adjust and work it out, but we jes’ don’t.  I’m losing money being down manpower with his training.  Money we need to keep this operation afloat.  We’re barely git’n by on the skin of our teeth.  We’re short two slaves a day what could be working and earning us money while we throw it away on his training.  I thought he’d break after a month or so, and we could git back to a full compliment of slaves.

He’s fought us ever’ damn step of the way, Bill.  We could lose the ranch if this keeps up.  I know what he’s think’n.  He’s think’n I’ll break before he does and give up the idea of him becoming a slave.  It won’t happen, Bill.  You know it won’t happen.  I’ll tell you what, I’m almost to the point I don’t give a shit no more he’s ma’ little brother.  I may break, Bill, but it won’t be in his favor.  If I break it’s because I’ve had it with him, and I’m gonna’ wash my hands of him.  I love my little brother, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let him take me and my family down with him.  I didn’t make him a slave, Bill, he done it all by his-self.  If’n push comes to shove, you can bet chore’ sweet ass my family will come first.

If’n he don’t break by Sunday week, the following Monday I’m loading his worthless ass in the back of my pickup and take’n him back to the Auction Facility.  I’m gonna’ put him up for sale and git me and ma’ brother’s money back.  Let some ruthless slave owner buy him, enslave him for the rest of his life, and put him in the fields to wear him out, grow old and die before he’s forty.   The day he’s sold, I’ll git my family together and have a funeral for him.  He’ll be dead to us, and we won’t speak his name again.  It’ll break my heart, Bill, but you know I’ll do it.

“Yes, Sir, Mr. Goodnight, I know you will.  I seen you do it before with a couple a’ slaves who jes’ refused to break.”

“Bet chore’ ass!  I’m tired of his bullshit.  He’s got ‘til Sunday week then the axe falls.  There won’t be no plead’n with me neither.  Once I make up my mine he goes,— he’s out a’ here.  I won’t even go to the auction.  I don’t wanna’ know who buys him.  I won’t care no more.  That’ll be it.  The end of my little brother.  It’ll be over and done with between us!”

“I shore’ hope it don’t come to that, Mr. Goodnight, but you’re right.  No sense in keep’n him around if’n he ain’t gonna’ break and become a good slave for you.  Do you want me to talk with him, Sir?”

“I’ll leave it up to you, Bill.  I don’t think it’ll do no good, but you can try if’n you want.  I know you been through a lot with him and for that I’m grateful.  Use yore’ best judgement, Son.”  Angus told Master Bill

Shane’s blood ran cold.  He knew his big brother was serious.  It was Sunday evening and he was going in to be locked in his cage since all the slaves were getting ready for their Sunday dinner of fried chicken with all the fixings.  He knocked at the door and stood at slave rest.

“In yore’ cage, slave!”  Master Bill ordered him.  Shane crawled in and sat down.  He just barely had enough room to sit up.  He watched as Master Bill closed the door and locked it with a big padlock.  The two men didn’t say anything else to him, but he could see the anger and frustration in his brother’s eyes.  Shane realized the handwriting was on the wall.  He was being weighed in the balance and found wanting.  He hadn’t eaten anything but slave chow and biscuits with water for two and a half months.  He longed for the taste of real food and could smell the fried chicken as the huge platters were brought out for the slaves.  He sat there and wept bitter tears.

That evening after he went to bed at the foot of Master Bill’s bed he lay  awake for the longest time.  Usually he was out like a light from all the days activities.  Not this night.  It was unbearably hot, and he was laying with his sleeping bag open with a roaring hard on.  He wasn’t allowed to jack off and knew it wouldn’t be worth the risk to try.  He imagined Master Bill was fast asleep when he heard a quiet voice speak to him.

“I hate to be the one to have ta' tell you this, slave, but chore' brother's given up on you.  He's gonna' sell you in a fortnight.  When it comes to slave handling, I know Angus a lot better'n you do.  I know he intends to do it.  Ain't no doubt in my mind.  The worst part is, I’m really gonna’ miss you, Shane.  H'it's gonna' rip my fuck'n heart out to watch you go.  I probably shouldn't tell you this, but I ain’t never formed me no bond with a slave like I done with you.  I'm really disappointed.  Even though we put you through a lot, h'it weren't a bit more'n we put any other slave through.  I know it's been hard on you, but I thought you’d come to care for me some.  I thought I could feel it in the way you respond to me when I'm fuck’n you sometimes.  Maybe I’s jes’ think’n crazy.”

Shane lay there not knowing if he should answer Master Bill or not; however, something in his gut churned and made him double up with pain.  He grabbed at his stomach and started wailing.  He began sobbing uncontrollably.

“Oh, God, Master Bill, it hurts!  It hurts so bad!  I can’t stand the pain no more, Sir!  I love you, Master Bill!  God forgive me but I do!  I don’t wanna’ be sent away and sold to no stranger.  I do care about you, Master Bill.  I’ll try harder, Sir.  I can’t lose the only thing in life I’ve come to care about.  I wanna’ be yore’ slave, Master Bill, more'n anything in the world.”

“Git up here, slave!”  Master Bill ordered Shane.  Shane crawled upon the bed with his Master, but was still holding his gut.  Bill put his arms around him and held him close, and the flood gates opened.

“Shuuu,— h’it’s over, slave.  You won’t have no more problems after tonight.  You're a slave now.  You're my slave.  You jes’ gave yourself to yore’ Master.  You don’t have to worry none about chore’ brother, jes’ be my slave.  The rest will fall into place.  I’ll take good care of you, and I know how to take care of Angus.  You'll  work hard and take care of me and Master Angus' needs.  Eventually, you’ll heal and understand what chore' brother is trying to do for you.  Then, you'll commit yore'self to him as willingly as you're giving yourself to me.”

“Please,— take me, Master Bill.  I need to provide pleasure for you, Sir.  I need you to be my Master.”

“If I take you, I will take you as my slave, Shane,— now and forever more.”

“I understand, Sir.  I need for you to.  I’m ready to become your slave, Master Bill.”

"I know, Son.  Let's seal this bond and git chu' fucked."

After that night Shane accepted he was a slave.  His body responded immediately, and he took the best dump he had in a long time early that morning and every morning after that.  His brother-slaves knew the minute he walked among them he was broken.  No one had to say a word.  They all knew.  One by one they would quietly take him in their arms, hug their new slave-brother and give him a quick kiss.  Shane became totally dedicated to becoming the best slave he could be for Master Bill.  After he sailed through the last two weeks of training and had some time to heal, in a tear filled impromptu ceremony before all the other slaves and Master Bill, Shane humbled himself before Angus, asked his forgiveness, thanked him for his mercy, and committed himself to his other Master.
Following the night Shane broke, Master Bill didn’t tell Angus right away.  He thought he’d wait and see if his boss could tell himself.  After they got through using their slave that evening, and Shane went off with his monitor-slave to the showers, Angus looked across at Bill and grinned.

“When did it happen, Son?”

“Early this morning,— about three o’clock.  H’it weren’t pretty, Boss.”  Bill said smiling.

“Thank God!  Praise the Lord!  I guess he overheard our conversation like we planned.”

“Yes, Sir, I know he did.  He done told me so.  Smart think’n on yore’ part, Boss.  Would you really have done it, Angus?”

“He’s ma’ little brother, Bill.  What do you think?”  Angus said quietly.

“I think I don’t never wanna’ play poker with you, Sir.”  the big men shared a laugh.

Shane was good to his word.  Something in him broke that night, and he recognized it.  He knew the exact moment it happened, but he had no control over it.  It wasn’t a conscious decision.  It was a decision on a much deeper level.  It sprang from his very gut like healing waters from the deep.  He knew he’d been broken as a slave, but it wasn’t fear, anger or hatred that broke him and reduced his soul to rubble,— it was the love in his Master’s voice.

End Of Chapter 6 ~ Waco’s Lummox
Copyright 2006 ~ Waddie Greywolf
All rights reserved ~
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