Then and Now 2

 

A tug on the rope which was attached to the collar around my neck made me stumble forward and I shuffled quicker trying to make sure I didn't get pulled along.

It's difficult walking with your hands tied behind your back, especially if your eyes are full from dust from the hooves of several horses, but I had no choice but to follow wherever these men were taking me.

The end of the rope was tied to the boy's saddle and he had seemingly chosen the blue colour of the tattoo which was now marked above my cock. That hurt horribly, and I badly wanted to rub it better, but with my hands tied and being led on the leash like I was, I couldn't even stop to examine it.

I had got a quick look at it while the men mounted their horses but viewing it upside down just made the strange language totally indecipherable.

Another tug and I almost fell over and the boy looked back in irritation, shouting something at me. The older man, who I guessed was his father furrowed his brow as I pulled backwards against the rope and said something to his son before gesturing at a tree close to the path.

"You're going to have to whip it into obedience," my father told me as the slave item kept struggling against the rope I was leading it by. "We could stop there, tie it to that tree and you can give it a good thrashing."

"No," I said, thinking more of the pleasures to come than of the inconvenience of having the slave being awkward now, "I think I'd rather get it back to the villa and take my time enjoying it when I use the willow on its arse," I said thoughtfully. "I know it has to learn that it's a slave now, whatever it was before, but I really would like to enjoy teaching it that," I said, thinking of the way that firm, round arse, would quiver when I used a willow wand on it.

"Very well," my father agreed, "It is yours, so do as you wish. But take care not to spoil it."

"I won't, father," I assured, "But I do want to see how it behaves when I beat it, and find out what sort of noises it makes."

I struggled against the rope more as the boy and his father talked until suddenly the boy galloped forward, swerving at the last second to knock me down with the flank of his horse.

Unable to break my fall with my bound arms I fell flat on my face, only to be dragged back up by a yank of the rope. Leaning out of his saddle the boy shouted something into my face, and I cowed away from him snivelling.

Looking over at his father with a grin the boy yanked on the rope again, setting off at a faster trot which made me have to half jog to keep up with.

"I think I'm going to enjoy training it," I grinned to my father as we cantered on at a pace that made the slave half-run to avoid being pulled over. "It has some spirit in it, not at all like the usual stuff you get on sale."

"More spirit it has the better fuck it will be," my father agreed, "No fun at all when a slave just lies there and lets you in."

"Oh, this one will let me in no trouble," I grinned, "Once it's been trained a little. It'll be alright if I get going on it as soon as we get home, won't it, father?"

My father agreed that would be the best thing to do and shook his head when I asked if I should gag it when I started its training because it would doubtless make some loud noises.

"No, Thelonikas," my father said with a very wicked grin, "Let the whole house know what you're doing, I'm sure we'll enjoy listening in."

I was panting and covered in dirt and sweat by the time we reached the large villa where the man and son must live. It was surrounded by olive groves and the people tending the fields stopped to bow as the two rode past.

Many of those people stared at my naked body but with my hands bound and forced into a half run I could do nothing to hide myself, and gratefully fell to my knees in the courtyard. The centre piece was a huge decorative pool and desperate for water I stumbled forward, only to be pulled up short by a tug on the rope from behind.

"It wants to drink," I said to my father. "Should I let it or would it be better if I kept it thirsty?"

"Let it drink," my father suggested, "It'll scream better with a wet throat."

I hadn't thought of that and, of course, my father was right. There are three main pleasures to enjoy when you use a willow wand on slave flesh: the way the slave's body reacts to the sting of pain, the red marks the willow leaves and the yells of the slave as it is punished. I like the quivering flesh and the clenching of muscles best, but the screams are important as well.

"You're right, father," I agreed and let it drink before I had it taken to my room and a couple of fresh willow wands brought to me.

They had the bark taken off so they were absolutely smooth, no rough bits that may cut skin.

"Throw it over that table," I ordered the two slaves who dragged it into my room, "And make sure you don't bruise it when you do."

'STOP! STOP!" The two burly men who had dragged me to what I guessed was the boy's bedroom, also wore collars like mine but they showed no interest in helping me out. Instead I was roughly forced over a low writing desk and my wrists and ankles secured to the legs so my bum was up in the air.

The room was unlike any boy's bedroom I had ever been in. There was no tv or games console, not even a wardrobe or a duvet on the bed. The only furniture was a small bookshelf which contained a pile of scrolls and a large wooden chest. There wasn't even any glass in the windows, instead wooden shutters opened straight into the open air, nor a light in the ceiling and I wondered again who these crazy people were. They didn't seem to live in the modern world!

I checked that my new slave had been properly fastened and dismissed the two who had brought him to my room. I'd watched slaves being trained, it was a vital part of a boy's education to learn how to deal with slaves after all, and I knew my father had his own way of doing it.

"So," I said sweetly to the tied up item, "You don't have the faintest idea what I am saying, I know that, but it doesn't matter because you'll learn soon enough."

I patted it gently on the head to reassure it, if it felt fairly safe then the first swipe of willow to its arse would be a real shock and be more painful as a result.

"I am going to train you, and I do promise you that it's going to hurt you a lot, but that's all part of the fun for me."

I walked round it, and admired again the beauty of its arse, giving it a soft and gentle feel. A lovely, firm arse, an arse that I knew was going to be an absolute delight to use.

"A nice caning first," I said to it sweetly still, "And we'll see how you like that."

I shuddered as the boy moved behind me. At school, year eight and year nine boys didn't mix and I was scared of being tied up at the mercy of this mean boy.

He spoke to me in his strange language and I shook my head.

"I don't understand, why are you doing this? Please let me go! I want to go home!" The boy was behind me now and I wriggled against my bonds as he squeezed my left bum cheek.

"Ready?" I asked it, though I knew it didn't understand what I said, but I said it nicely hoping to make it feel just a little less frightened.

Then I gave it the first swipe of the willow and grinned in delight as its arse flesh quivered, clenched and quivered again.

"AWWWWGGHHHHHH!" Like most boys my age I had never received any type of physical punishment and let out a long cry as the stick was whipped across my bum.

The initial shock of the strike was instantly replaced by a burning line of pain and I thrashed in my bonds wanting to rub it away.

"DONT! STOP!!" My bum quivered in fear and I desperately tried to twist my head to see what the boy was doing.

 

""Not bad," I said as it yelled something when the willow landed, "But I'm sure you can do better than that."

I waited till a nice red line appeared on its arse and the sting had had enough time to sink properly in before hitting it again. Three successive swipes this time, no pause between them. No waiting between strokes, I knew from when I'd been punished myself, increased the pain factor considerably.

I wailed and sobbed as the boy beat my bum, thrashing and pulling against the ropes which held me. The whole world seemed to have gone mad, in the last few days I had been kidnapped, tied up, tattooed and now a crazy older boy was hitting my bum with a stick. I couldn't even ask him why he was doing this but that didn't stop me screaming and begging.

"PLEASE! STOP! ILL DO ANYTHING! STOP" The boy paid me no attention hitting my bum again and again so it felt like it was on fire.

"That's a bit better," I patted the slave on its back; its last yells had been almost satisfactory, but it was still yelling in whatever it used instead of language and not properly screaming, so I hit it a few more times to encourage it to scream properly.

By the time the boy stopped beating me I was no longer begging him to stop, any attempt to reason with him lost in the agony from my bum.

Instead I was howling and screaming, making my throat hoarse as tears ran down my face. My bum was criss crossed with white lines of agony and as the boy stopped hitting me my head hung down limply as snot dripped on to the floor boards beneath me.

"I knew I'd get some nice noises from you," I patted it on its back again, pleased with the screams I had managed to get from it.

"I think you may be ready for this now," I said and peeled off my tunic. I was tempted, as any boy would be tempted, to ram my now very hard cock straight up its arse, but I thought that shoving my cock inside its mouth while it was still full of pain and shedding tears everywhere would be an enjoyable alternative.

I walked round to the front of the table, grabbed it by its hair, raised its head and put my cock against its lips.

Even a slave from the gods alone knew where should be able to understand what was required of it, I thought.

"NO! NO!" The boy rubbed his cock around my mouth and despite only knowing about sex stuff from lessons at school I knew what he wanted. But I wasn't gay! I didn't want to suck his cock!

Frantically I tried to turn my head but the boy yanked my hair and forced my face into his groin so the scent of his cock and balls filled my nose. Stubbornly I kept my mouth closed which must have annoyed him as he yanked again on my hair causing me to wail in pain.

Amazingly the slave kept its mouth shut! What sort of place did it come from that it didn't understand what it was supposed to do?

Perhaps I hadn't hit it enough and it needed some more to make it understand.

I yanked on its hair and it yelled, but it yelled back with its teeth ground together, so I had no choice but to use the willow again.

Its arse was a lovely mass of red lines and more willow there would definitely hurt, but instead, I thought I'd try the back of its thighs and perhaps that would get the message through.

I picked up the willow again and gave it two hard ones to the back of each thigh. That certainly made it scream again, so I went back round, grabbed its head and put its face once more against my needy cock.

I wailed as the stick hit my thighs. Somehow that hurt worse than my bum and I was heaving and sobbing as the boy pulled my head back up and presented his cock to my mouth.

Gagging I opened up and let him slide it in. I had never had my cock sucked by a girl and had no idea what to do, and to make matters worse I felt like I was going to puke as he slid his cock between my lips and on to my tongue.

Amongst me and my friends a cock-sucker was a terrible insult, but I had to admit it wasn't totally disgusting. The boy's cock was bigger than mine and it started to grow as he slid it in and out, using my hair to move my head up and down his dick.

It worked! Willow wand on its thighs was more effective than on its arse. I made a mental note of that for future use.

And it did have a very nice mouth once it started using it. My cock had, naturally been in mouths before. We were allowed to do that with each other if we didn't have a lover yet and slave mouth was always available so I'd had mine sucked many time before and always liked it.

Some boys said it was even better than fucking, but those boys were probably making that up. We, of course, couldn't fuck each other, and I did doubt that many fathers would let their sons use their bed slaves that way. I certainly was still waiting for my first fuck.

Still, the slave's mouth was good so I fucked that instead. It didn't seem to have much idea of what it was supposed to do so I had to do all the work, but I quite enjoyed it and grunted with pleasure as I seeded, keeping my cock in its mouth after I'd finished so it had no choice but to swallow.

"MMMMMMMMPPHHH!" The boy's cock had got harder and harder and suddenly started twitching. I had been rubbing my own cock until it spurted for about a year and knew what that meant and shook my head wildly, but the boy had too firm a grip and forced his cock right inside my mouth as he spurted out his load.

He made a lot more spunk than I did and it seemed thicker as well, and I choked and gagged as I was made to swallow it. I tried my best to gulp it down so I didn't choke but I coughed and gagged and felt some trickling out of my nose and around the corners of my mouth as his cock softened up in my mouth.

"Good slave," I told it when my seed was safely down its throat, "And don't worry, you'll get better at doing it very quickly."

It would, no doubt about that, I'd be using its mouth more than once a day from now on!

"Time you learned to speak," I told it and pointed to my now soft cock. "C O C K" I said slowly so it'd learn how to say it, and then repeated it once more. "You say it now," I told it, but I was forced to use hand gestures to get it to understand.

"Cuck." The boy held the stick menacingly over me and I struggled to repeat the strange word he had said. I guessed it meant dick in his strange language and he pointed at it again wanting me to repeat.

"Cock," I mumbled and he patted my head.

"Good slave," I told it again, and then taught it to say 'SUCK' in the same way. Once it had got the grip of that I made it put the two words together, and then asked it if it was old enough to make seed yet.

I had some problems with that, eventually having to mime wanking and spurting before it understood.

 

"Suck Cock," I repeated for the fourth time. I knew now it meant to give a blow job and I whimpered as I repeated the phrase over and over. The fact that the boy was teaching me to say this first scared me. I had hoped this would be a one off thing but if he wanted me to learn how to say it I suspected it might not be.

"Yes," I nodded my head as the boy wanked his cock and gestured as if he was spunking, before pointing at my own dick. I guessed he was asking if I could also cum, and while I didn't make as much jizz as him when I spurted I did have wet dreams and made a pool of clear fluid when I masturbated.

I gave a beam of delight when it said it could seed, and promptly taught it the word we boys used for seeding, "SPUNK" and "SPUNKING" I instructed it, and, for good measure, added in "ALWAYS SWALLOW SPUNK WHEN YOU SUCK MY COCK."

That was a bit difficult for it to understand but it only took a few slashes with the willow to its thighs for it to learn the words and their meaning properly.

"I always swallow when I suck cock." I burned bright red in humiliation as I was made to repeat the phrase. I knew it meant I swallowed spunk when I sucked a cock and tears ran down my face as I said it.

Strangely though my cock felt a bit hard, and I willed it to go down. The boy hit my thigh again causing me to scream and he must have noticed my hard cock as he grabbed it and shook it laughing.

This was perfect! The slave had got a hard cock! Perhaps the willow on its thighs had taught it more than I had been meaning, but I was certainly not going to object.

"Please, master, you may suck my cock if you want to," was the next phrase I taught it. That wasn't easy, but it got there in the end and with only a few more willow slashes to help it.

"Yes Master," I wasn't sure if Master was his name or just what I had to call him but I knew what the rest meant. I didn't really want my cock sucked but as the willow thrashed across my thigh again I shouted it at the top of my voice.

"Slaves don't usually ask their masters to suck their cocks," I grinned, knowing that it would only understand a few of those words, but its ignorance added to the fun in some way.
I did want to suck its cock though. It was younger than me so had it not been a slave it would have been improper for me to suck it, but it was a slave, my slave, and suck it I did.
It took a fair bit of time, I suppose being young it took a while to get whatever it shot for spunk to work its way out, but it got there in the end, its little cock shooting in my mouth and very tasty it was as well.

I moaned as my cock started spurting. I didn't produce much spunk and somehow always felt just as horny afterwards as I had before, but the boy didn't seem interested in playing with me anymore as he wiped his lips and walked round me inspecting the rest of my body.

It looked nice, its little cock still hard even though it had just shot the stuff that boys shoot before they can spunk properly. Tasty stuff, though, and I knew I would be eating it lots.

The red marks all over its arse and thighs added to its attraction in a way and I wondered if I should take it to my father so he could see its training had begun, but, before I did that, I thought it should know what I had had written above its cock.

I whimpered as the boy stood in front of me. "Master." He repeated slowly, pointing at himself.

"Master" I repeated with a whimper as he pointed at himself again.

"This belongs to Thelonikas" I said slowly moving my finger over the writing on its pubis. "This belongs to Thelonikas," and made it repeat the words, before explaining, with signs, that "This" meant it, and "Thelonikas" was me. "Belongs to" was more difficult, but I think it understood after some more miming and I didn't even have to use the willow this time.

"I belong to Thelonikas" I whimpered as I repeated the phrase, understanding that it meant I was the property of this strange cruel boy. How that was possible when slavery wasn't allowed anymore I didn't know, but so much about this strange place was beyond my understanding.

"Thelonikas," the boy pointed to himself and I repeated what I now knew to be his name and got a cut from the stick to my thigh.

"Master," I whimpered as he pointed to himself again, learning quickly that while that was his name I was to address him differently. I guessed the word meant owner and I whimpered as he smiled.