Date: Sat, 12 Nov 2022 03:59:21 +0000 From: Greg S Subject: Perceptions - Chapter 23 Please remember to support Nifty and their work so that they can continue this forum for entertainment and expression. Use link https://donate.nifty.org/ to donate please. Disclaimer: If you aren't 18 years of age, or if it is illegal to read materials of this kind where you live, stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenagers and is for adults only! The acts are consensual. This story is complete fiction, all descriptions, and names are also made up. Any similarities are purely coincidence. This story also contains violent scenes including force, bondage and humiliation. If this bothers you, please do not read any further! Perceptions - Chapter 23 I believed I could get my point across to Master Greg if I just had the right opportunity. He could see it if I took the right angle. This was Dartmouth, veterinary medicine, my dream! I'd make him understand. As the week progressed, Laith announced that because everyone had such a good time at the wrestling get together over the weekend, he was going to have a wrestling retreat at his family's place in Marblehead in two weeks. It was too cold to swim, but everyone was crazy-excited about going away for the weekend. The coach would be chaperoning, but I somehow knew he could mysteriously disappear at any time. The next two weeks were so frustrating, I tried to talk to Master Greg repeatedly, but he didn't understand anything I was saying. My heart was torn and so was my head. We all made it through til the Friday that we were heading to Marblehead in early May. Graduation was right around the corner for some of us, summer break for all of us. The energy was everywhere. Coach drove the team up to Marblehead in a small bus provided by the school. We got there at dusk. The sun was going down bathing everything in a reddish-orange wash. The Shaw's majestic stone home on the water absorbed the colors, reflecting a huge dark fortress. Everyone barreled in to the gigantic living room and spread out. It was the type of home built for grand entertaining in a different era. The vaulted beam ceilings and woodwork would never be used today. Sleeping bags got strewn everywhere and music was playing in no time. Friday night was going to be just to cut loose, so there was no agenda. Actually there was really no agenda for Saturday either. The coach laid out ground rules Friday night, but I didn't see him again until Sunday morning when we left. The bus was in the front drive, but I think Laith arranged for him to have a car from the garage in back to come and go. Amidst all of the positive energy around, I was still unhappy that I could not make Master Greg see that we could work all of this out. This time, he approached me and opened the dialogue. "So, what are you thinking about your schooling?" Without asking any questions I dove blindly into my `we can make this work' scenario. I respectfully pushed and pushed with my heart and head while he said nothing. I was now frustrated beyond belief. Why didn't he get it? Saturday when I awoke, Greg was gone and Laith was in the kitchen overseeing some sophomores making breakfast. "Where is Greg?" I questioned desperately. "Don't worry fago, he just went into town with coach for a while.", and then he winked at me. "When will he be back" I pleaded. "Dunno fago." The day was crazy with all of the guys hanging out, and I couldn't relax. I was completely twisted. While I could never do without Master Greg, I could also never do without my dream career and dream school. Master Greg strutted in around 3:00 and seemed more relaxed than yesterday. I moved in to engage again, but he said, "Not now fag." I was stuck, really stuck. To push is to disobey. To not push is to not solve the problem. He could see that I was in turmoil, and his more relaxed state became less relaxed now. He walked away from me more annoyed than he was a few minutes ago. I went outside to take a walk, the area was beautiful. Old homes on the water with beautiful views, beautiful lives, and no problems, right? I got back around 5:00, and everyone was in the recreation room. People were playing pool and foos ball, music was blaring and sports were on the tv. Seemed like everyone was having fun. Greg was talking to a few teammates including Ben, and one of the sophomores from two weekends ago. I grabbed a soda and watched some guys playing foos ball for a while, but declined when they asked if I wanted to get in the game. I wandered around the recreation room and kitchen until my lavatory hero Jack grabbed me by the arm and said, "come for a walk with me." "Jack, I can't. I'm sorry". "Greg's orders", was all he said. I followed as he took me to an outbuilding that looked like part garage and part caretakers quarters. Climbing the stairs to the second floor I found Greg and the underclassmen from the wrestling event two weeks ago. Ben (the wiry freshman), Jerry (the other freshman), Tack (a dark haired skinny sophomore), and Karson (A blond/blue muscled sophomore) in a dusty living room / kitchen combination space. It looked like it was more for storage these days. The thing that didn't belong there was a noticeably dust-free black vinyl bench that looked like a combination between a chair and chest press bench, but a little different, with more arms and legs on it. There was a black sack on the floor as well. So, why were the same guys I gave blowjobs to last week pow-wowing with Greg now? I considered, `This could be why they were selected in the first place'. He turned his attention to me, and it felt like I was under a spotlight. My instinct was to cower, but I couldn't, this was not the time for that. I had to stand and take what was coming to me, good and bad. "Strip Bitch", he directed. I took everything off, including my boxer briefs, letting everyone see my tattoos and chastity cage. The guys were a little surprised, and Karson, the taller, slightly more muscular one came up close and slapped at the cage and exclaimed, "bitch." I considered silently, `and before he was such a nice polite young man'. Tie him up Greg ordered. The guys pulled a few ropes with hooks on them from the bag and tied them snugly around my wrists, and then attached the hook ends to eye bolts sunk into an overhead beam. One of them, I think Jerry, attached a bar to each ankle that locked my feet almost four feet apart from each other. He looked at Master Greg and questioned, "like this?" To which Master Greg gave the thumbs up. Looking the four young men over and then gesturing to me, he said, "This is what's standing between you and a spot on the team and a potential scholarship to college if you are good enough. This is your challenge and your reward. But understand that if you do not break him tonight, you're out." Break me? Break me from what? What the hell was this? "Master", I called, craning my neck, "What is it?" But he and Jack walked down the steps and were gone. "Ben, what's going on? What does my Master want?", I cried. Jerry went into the bag again and he pulled out a scarf and a dirty sock that I know belonged to my master. He shoved the sock into my mouth and tied the scarf tight around my head to hold it in. Jerry went into the bag and pulled out a whip and held it up. Karson said, "I want that." I think it was a cat-o-nine-tails, but I'm not sure of all the lingo. He tentatively swung it at my back but the strands bounced off lightly. He tried again a little harder with a similar result. Tack, the dark haired sophomore, grabbed it from Karson and said, "like this", and winding up he whipped it against my back with his power, throttling me forward and sending a bloody scream into my gag. It scared the others, but by the time Tack had whipped me five times, they were all desensitized to the site and sound. Karson looked at Tack with an expression that implored, `I want to try again'. Tack handed it back to Karson and within a few lashes he was approaching Tack's intensity. As I screamed, Ben approached me from the front and affixed two clamps to my nipples that bit like bear traps. My eyes teared up from the pain. Jerry opened a small vile of liquid and held it under my nose. "Inhale he said. Greg says it will help you endure." `Endure what?', I screamed inside my mind. Why this torture? What is this for? We could figure it out and make things work if we could just talk? The liquid did help to endure the beatings. Tack picked up a small stick, and from a position in front of me he used it to swat up between my legs at my balls. He used a flicking motion that was excruciating. I continued howling into my gag as these four teenagers beat and tortured me mercilessly. As the welts on my back begin to seem troublesome to Karson, he conferred with Tack and decided to switch to a horse whip, which had more like 100 thin leather straps and lacks the intensity and creates much less damage than the cat-o-nine-tails. Tack was not as well muscled as Karson, but he was strong angular and lean. He had short dark hair and eyes versus Karson's longer blond locks and blue eyes. He also seemed to have a taste and tolerance for punishment, even cruelty. He ordered Karson, "Give me that thing before you put it away." Winding up with the cat-o-nine-tails he provided 3 brutal lashes creating blood curdling but muffled screams from me before tossing it back in the bag and going back to using a cane on my bruised and aching balls. Jerry continued to feed me more of the liquid to inhale, which was the only thing that provided any relief. I could not even get into the headspace that allowed me to mentally disconnect and endure pain in the name of service to my Master. I could see Ben and Tack speaking away from the rest of us, and I realized that Tack was no longer torturing my balls. They made some gestures toward me, spoke to each other again, and then Ben spoke. "Ok everyone, give it a break." I didn't know if this had been going on for half an hour, or two hours at this point, my brain was scrambled mush. Tack strutted over to the black bag on the floor and pulled out a spray bottle. Circling and observing me, he began to spray the liquid on my body. The scent was unmistakable, it was rubbing alcohol, which burned like crazy when it hit the bruises on my back. I whimpered and moaned as the liquid soaked in. He had a content smirk on his face as he carried out the task. He sauntered back to the bag and dropped the bottle in and told everyone, "Go inside and take a break. Be back here in an hour to continue." Then they all exited down the stairs, literally leaving me hanging from a beam. I tried to calm down, but I couldn't relax my mind. Everything was scattered and I could find no reason to what was happening. My skin burned and there was a dull, throbbing beat to my body as it dealt with the trauma. At least there was some peace for a moment, and though there was no way I could be any less comfortable than I was now, I used this moment to rest. I heard the creak of a door and then the smack of the door closing. It couldn't possibly be an hour yet. I heard footsteps, and then stair steps. Someone was definitely coming, from the sound of it, only one person I think. By now the sun had gone down and there was no light through the windows to help illuminate the room. On it's own, the room was not very well lit, only a few bulbs on the ceiling that were not clean or very bright. I could see a head ascending from the stairs. I focused hard to see, and as he rose up to the main floor, I saw Tack moving casually and comfortably towards me. He removed my gag and set it on the table to the side. He had a fresh bottle of water with him. Opening it he took a long drink, swished the fluid around in his mouth and then spit his backwash back into the bottle. He held it to my mouth and tilted it, and I drank greedily and accepted the replenishment. "You like being cruel, don't you?", I posed, even surprising myself with the question, but we were way past having something to lose. "Yeah, I guess I do", he replied with some pride. "Where does that come from?" "Listen queer, don't try to mindfuck me. I'm not interested.", he insisted. Then he picked up the spray bottle from the bag and started spraying my back with alcohol which made me wince and groan again. Now, smirking gladly, he got closer and growled, "Yeah bitch, I like hearing that." I know I should not have had any positive reaction to him at this point, he was my tormentor; but I did. I couldn't help my nature. "Some bitch is going to get lucky when he or she finds you, and you take over their life.", I observed. "Yeah, I think so too", he said cockily, but I could tell he was very flattered by my observation because he may not have thought it was possible. "You already have two guys running your life, right bitch?", he observed. The question hit me weird because I had to answer his question in order to remind myself that `Yes I do have two masters'. I don't know where that constant state of consciousness went, but I needed reminding at that moment. He continued with that line of thought. "Yeah, I never thought of having a faggot to use before now, but I can see having one of you stashed in a closet somewhere for when my girlfriend doesn't put out.", he fantasized. I thought to myself, `Hot, young and not smart yet.' We had a little rapport, so I decided I should ask him about what he was instructed to do. He gave me little information, just saying that Greg expected them to break me down tonight and gave them instructions how to do it. "What exactly did he want to break me down for", I asked, trying not to seem too desperate or excited. "I dunno", he replied. Then after a minute he suggested, "Whatever you're not giving him I guess." Maybe he is smarter than I thought. But my mind went directly back to the idea that I can make everything work.