Date: Fri, 15 Mar 2024 15:22:33 -0400 From: Robert Halstead Subject: The Brothel Slave chapter 3 THREE So there I was, shaved everywhere except for my head and eyebrows, my ass---oops, I mean my cunt—still oozing a little bit from Clark fucking me, totally naked, no keys, no phone, walking down a public stairway to the 25th floor—and this was no easy feat. The roughness of the stairs was really irritating my bare feet. The closer I got to the 25th floor, the more nervous I became. I heard a door open a couple floors beneath me and then footsteps. Someone was walking down, not up, fortunately. And there I was. 25th floor. I opened the door and stepped from the stairway to the landing. One of the four doors opened and I hear a single word: "enter." I did. More commands were given. "Hands behind your head so I can see your bare armpits." then "legs spread apart." "a little farther." "Good. This is the position you take when you're ordered to PRESENT." "Kneel." I put my hands down to help keep my balance and I'm screamed at" "PRESENT!" I snap back into position. I hear the flick of a whip and the lash lights a fire on my upper back. "You move nothing without permission. Now KNEEL!" I stumble a bit and I hear the man chuckling at my awkwardness. "This will need practice, I see. PRESENT!" Up I go. Then "KNEEL" Down I go. "A little better. Once more: PRESENT!" Then KNEEL. "Sufficient for now." "The next command has you sitting back on your heels with your legs spread as far as possible so a superior has a clear shot at your junk. So now, faggot, SIT BACK! I do so, holding my hands tightly behind my head to avoid another lash by that whip. All of a sudden I realize that this Master uses his whip to control my behavior. It's not really erotic like when I used to get whipped by my friend who moved away. This was just control. Pure and simple control by the lash of his whip. I realize that I am subject to corporal punishment from this Master. Real punishment. "The next command allows you to rest your hands on your thighs, palms always up. REST!" This is a real relief. The room is very dark. I feel the presence of the Master (at least I hope I can call him that), but cannot see him. "Time to talk. First, tell me why you worded your ad the way you did. "strong-willed man needs to have its will broken by stronger-willed Dom." Speak honestly. You may address me as Master." "Master, I tend to be a control freak. I've often been accused of trying to control a scene with a Dom from the bottom. Recently a Dom I liked very much refused to continue with me because I am "strong-willed." That is why I wrote the ad I did, not really expecting anyone to reply." "I see. Thank you for your honesty. I want to point out to you that you have had absolutely no control over anything that's happened to you since you first arrived at this building. I assure you that this will continue. Whatever ideas you have, whatever you're hoping will happen, whatever possible fantasy you may be forming in your mind, whatever desires that arise, none of these things will happen. You just had your body shaved. You look like a little boy from the neck down, your cunt was fucked and is still oozing lube and cum, you walked down over a dozen flights of stairs completely naked. Your clothing and keys and phone are being kept away from you. You have no control over anything, faggot. Do you understand this?" `Yes, Master." "Is this what you were looking for?" "Yes, Master." "You have also discovered that any disobedience, any attempt to take things into your own hands will result in a taste of my whip. That is how I control you and correct your behavior. Clark also paddled you for the same reason. Do you understand, faggot?" "Yes, Master." "Beg me to punish you whenever I think you need it." "Please punish me, Master, whenever you think I need it. Please, Master." PRESENT! Quickly I get to my feet and put my hands behind my head again. Dim lights go on and the Master approaches me. He's a young man, taller than me, long black hair, dressed in black jeans and a black leather vest which is open. His chest is smooth and there is the beginning of a six pack. "Lower your eyes, faggot. At all times keep them lowered unless told differently. If I catch you looking at my body and lusting after it, you will feel something far worse than the whip I'm currently using to guide you. Do you understand me, faggot?" "Yes, Master." "I specialize in training Daddies to become slaves. That is what I am doing to you. You have no sexual value to me at all. You're too old and in too poor a shape to interest me sexually. Most guys my age would consider you to be pathetic if you ever tried to hit on them. The only thing I am interested in is breaking your will and turning you into the type of slave I think you should be. Do you understand, boy?" "Yes, Master." "You will always call me Master. You do not need to know my name. I know your slave name is Denny West. That doesn't matter to me. I will call you either faggot, or boy or slave. What names do I use to address you?" "Faggot, boy or slave, Master." He walks over to me and takes my cock in hand. I start getting hard and he slaps it until it settles down. He walks away from me and comes back holding something in his hand, but I don't know exactly what it because I cannot raise my eyes. He begins fumbling around my pubic area and finally I realize that he is fitting me with a metal chastity device. I haven't been caged this way for a long time. "Has your puny old dick ever been locked up before, faggot?" "Yes, Master, a long time ago." "Now you will stay locked. Faggots like you have no right to have a hardon. It is offensive to superior men. Some disagree, but you are being trained under my rule and my specifications. You will submit to wearing this cage for as long as I want you to." All sorts of thoughts are going through my mind now. How long? How will I get unlocked? Is he going to make me wear this home? "Many thoughts are going through your mind right now, aren't they, boy?" "Yes, Master." "You do not have permission to ask any questions. If you attempt to, you'll get five lashes. Do you understand what I'm telling you, boy?" "Yes, Master." Damn I want to say something, but I don't dare. Five lashes with that whip will reduce me to tears. "Surrender your will, faggot. Silence your questioning. Take your hands from behind your head and stretch them out on either side of you so you form a T." I do so. "The pain in your arm will distract you from your incessant questioning." Nothing else happens for what seems like a very long time. Pain sets in. "Do not lower your arms, slave." That's the first time he called me slave. This is getting harder and harder. Finally, involuntarily, I drop my arms to get quick relief and then raise them up again. I am lashed on the right side of my back and then once again on my ass, right by my oozing hole. I scream out in pain and frustration. Holy fucking shit! This is already far more than I've been willing to accept. "If you want to quit for now, you may put your arms down. You will not be welcome here again. If you wish to continue, keep those arms out until I decide you've learned what you need to learn from the pain you're suffering, simply because I want you to." I force myself to keep my arms out. "Focus on the pain. The three lashes from my whip. The muscle pain in your arms. The pain tells you what you are, what you need to become. The pain introduces you to a state of slavery where you have absolutely no control. The pain is what you know, deep down inside you, that you deserve." "Pray every night, faggot, with your arms in this position. Hasn't your God sometimes told you you must be a slave to all? Pray that you will learn to surrender your mind and become a good slave for those who want to use you. Pray that you will please your Masters. Pray that someone will finally choose to own you permanently. Pray to be helpful to everyone you meet, either as Robert or Denny." (How the fuck did he learn my legal name? Maybe Clark read it off my driver's license.) Tears form in my eyes and I realize I'm sweating. Finally the command comes. BACK! Then REST! I struggle to remember. Down on my knees, sit back, legs spread, hands upright on my thighs. This feels like a heavenly rest after all I've been through. "I have a question. Answer me truthfully. Here is the question: Would it cause any difficulties in your life or your work if you suddenly turned up tomorrow completely bald." WHAT????!!!!! Fuck. "No, Master, it would not cause any difficulties." What have I gotten myself into? ### Do you think this story should be continued? Please write me. subkodak25@gmail.com Please make a donation to nifty: donate@nifty.org Here are the other stories I have posted, with the dates where you can find them: The first five should be read in order: The Alex Chronicles 9/25/2022 Sweet Subjugation 1/15/2023 Brandon's Bosses 4/3/2023 Brandon's Brothers 5/19/2023 Total Subjugation 5/25/2023 These stories are stand-alone Tommy Loves His Sub 8/17/2023 Training Toby 12/31/2023 Breaking Me In 03/10/2024