Date: Wed, 28 Aug 2013 18:30:35 -0400
From: Douglas Marx <douglas.marx.4@gmail.com>
Subject: Born; Chapter Ten; Story codes: M, MM, SM, bd

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Story codes: M, MM, SM, bd

-----------------------------------

Please check out my other Nifty.org stories, which can be found under the
prolific author section at http://www.nifty.org/nifty/frauthors.html and
then scroll down to Douglas Marx

Growing Up Naked        http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/growing-up-naked/
Downward Spiral of Jim	http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/downward-spiral-of-jim
Naked Whore		http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/naked-whore
Put Out to Pasture	http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/put-out-to-pasture
Santa's Slave Training	http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/santas-slave-training
Special Product Design	http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/special-product-design
The Trunk		http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/the-trunk

------------------------------------

Born – Chapter Ten

I was beginning to learn.  I was beginning to understand.  I was here for
service and entertainment.  I was beginning to realize the fantasy of
Master/slave I grew up with in my room back home masturbating to reading
the authoritarian section of Nifty and looking at pictures was just that; a
fantasy.  The reality of this slave's existence was that Master did not
care about my feelings.  He didn't care that I loved him.  Whatever
projections that I had made from our early sexual encounters of this
relationship being a mutual admiration were being torn away bit by bit.

I paid dearly for my indiscretion of masturbating in the dungeon.  Master
figured out I had done something.  The dildo was not in the exact position
he had left it.  Being a banker, Master was very detail oriented.  He
missed nothing.  I knew I wouldn't get it right.  I was too sexually crazed
at that moment to remember precisely how it lay in the drawer.

As if I hadn't understood the seriousness of what I was as a slave before,
there was no question after this episode.  After that punishment, I still
loved Mr. Brown, but I would never look at him with the expectations I had
upon entering into slavery.

I was busy readying another delicious Friday evening dinner special when I
heard a yell, "Boy, get your ass in the dungeon now!"  I raced into the
dungeon upset that my meal timing was going to suffer because of this
detour.  Meal timing was the least of my concerns afterwards.

Mr. Brown grabbed me by the neck as I entered the dungeon.  He
unceremoniously walked me over to a large log hanging chest height from the
ceiling.  He faced me to the log, place my arms out in a cross position
with my chin resting on the top of the log.  He strapped my arms in about
six places securing me to the wood.

"The cock cage didn't work, did it faggot?"

"No Sir."

"Do you know why you are here, faggot?"

"Yes Sir.  I entered the dungeon and masturbated without your permission,
Sir."

"That's right, faggot."  Mr. Brown took the bamboo cane laying it across my
ass.

I screamed, "I'm sorry Sir.  I won't do it again."

Mr. Brown caned me again.  "Idle promises, faggot.  I don't fucking believe
you."  Whish went the cane through the air.

I continued to scream, but I didn't say anything more.  Mr. Brown knew me
so much better than I knew myself.  Master was correct.  I would do it
again if given the opportunity.  I knew when I did it I would be punished.
I couldn't argue with the fact that I was in this position.

My ass cheeks were on fire.  I could feel the blood vessels rising to the
surface.  I wasn't sure whether I felt blood trickling down my butt or was
it just sweat?  Mr. Brown caned me longer than ever before.  My body hung
from the wood unable to keep myself standing.  Tears were streaming down my
face.  I wanted to vomit it hurt so bad.  I was a pain pig but I had not
been taken to this level before.  Mr. Brown was showing little mercy.

When it stopped the room got quiet.  I couldn't tell whether Mr. Brown was
even still in the dungeon.  There was such eeriness as the only sound was
my continued whimpers.  My eyes were closed as I was consumed internally
with myself not even thinking about Mr. Brown.

"Open your eyes, faggot and look at me."  Master yelled.  He was in front
of me.  He was naked.  He was hard.  He was jacking his cock.  "See this
faggot.  This is what you were going to get tonight.  You were going to get
to be with me.  You were going to get to feel my body.  You were going to
get my cum deposited in your throat or up you cunt.  I may have even kissed
you.  Instead, you only get to watch what would have been."

"Oh yeah faggot.  I was going to fuck you hard.  I was going to make you
scream with joy and passion.  You were going to get your Master's cum.  You
were going to get his piss.  You would probably even get to cum yourself.
Oh fuck.  I'm so hot thinking about what might have been.  Oh yeah.
Stroking my Master cock looking at the pitiful remains of my slave.  Cry
fucker.  Cry all you want.  This is what you would have gotten with a
little self-control and a little self-discipline.  I thought you were a
better slave than this.  Apparently I was wrong.  You're just like all the
rest.  You think this is some sort of game.  It is on my end.  On your end
you are here to serve me.  You are here to entertain me.  I got some great
entertainment tonight.  I enjoyed whipping you ass.  It got me hot.  It is
going to make me cum.  But there could have been more.  You could have had
some pain and pleasure tonight.  Oh fuck.  Oh yeah.  I'm so hot.  Fucking
eh.  Oh yeah.  Jesus Christ.  Looking at your worthless mess is going to
make me shoot my Master load.  Oh fuck.  Fuck.  Fuck.  Fuck.
Fuck. FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKK!"

Mr. Brown shot all over the floor.  He blasted the warm, delicious cream
that was meant for me.  I watched as the spurts continued and continued out
of his manhood.  Now, I really cried.  Now, it wasn't worth it.  Now, I
understood the consequences of my actions.  I was fine with being beaten.
But, Mr. Brown knew where to really punish me by telling me that we were
going to have a scene and that I would receive his manliness.  Mr. Brown
knew how to hurt me.  He knew exactly were my weakness was.  He knew I
worshiped him and loved him.  I wanted to have physical relations with
Mr. Brown so bad.  He could whip me all he wanted, but what would get me to
behave would be taking his beautiful body away from me.  I looked at him
while he came down from orgasm.  I looked at the huge load of cum on the
floor drying up instead of continuing to stay moist inside my vagina.

Mr. Brown walked away.  Next I felt him put some salve on my beaten skin.
He walked around to face me.  He took his strong hand squeezing my wet face
together, "I'm going to eat my delicious dinner you prepared for me."  He
spit on my face and walked out of the dungeon.  I actually hoped that the
meal was still good considering the unfortunate delay in serving.  This was
an indication that I was losing the selfishness of being a slave and only
thinking of my Master's comfort.

I was left hanging from the wood beam until Mr. Brown finished his meal.
He came back not saying a word.  He unstrapped me.  Took me by the back of
the neck and led me directly to my room.  I noticed he had left me a tray
of food as the door locked behind me.  I cried on my bed for an hour before
I even touched the now cold food.  Hunger took over emotions and I ate.  I
fell asleep from exhaustion.

Next morning the speakers woke me up.  I cleaned and raced to the kitchen.
The note said that I was not to speak when serving any meals today and that
I was to remain in the kitchen at all times.  Mr. Brown wanted nothing to
do with me today.  He wanted nothing to do with me for two weeks.  We never
spoke.  I did my work only by the print out orders in the kitchen each day.
He didn't say a single word to me, regardless if the meal was good or bad
in his opinion.  It was more important to him that I serve in silence than
let me know what type of job I was doing.  Finally, on a Sunday evening he
allowed me a meal with him.  We chatted only briefly not bringing up the
punishment.  Nothing needed to be said.  Master had made his wishes more
than clear.

My nipples extended away from my chest about three-quarters of an inch
after so much pumping.  I would look at my chest now in the mirror and find
them incredibly sexy.  I still had the pasty white skin of an
eighteen-year-old slave, but my body was changing and maturing.  My back
had scars on it from the bullwhip.  My ass seemed to be permanently red.
My cock did not react quite so easily after months of being in the cock
cage.  It is true what they say, `use it or lose it'.  I hoped that someday
Master would take the cock cage off and that I could `use it' again.  I
looked into my eyes in the mirror and also saw a man not quite as young,
not quite as enthusiastic, not quite as innocent.  The toll of slavery was
evident.

Master and I got back on a more even keel.  I was much more focused on
serving and making him happy and less on the fantasy that Mr. Brown was
ever going to be the great lover of my life.  The cock cage definitely
helped slow my ambitions.  The beatings did too.  But, more than anything
the night he masturbated in front of me telling me what I could have had
made me begin to realize that if I only focused on making him happy, then I
might be happy as well.  So I went about my days cleaning the house,
cooking serving him morning, night and weekends.

Eventually, Master became interested in having some sexual encounters with
me; however, they were still always based on his personal entertainment.
One Saturday afternoon I was in the kitchen prepping the evening meal when
I heard, "Five minutes, boy.  Meet me in the dungeon!"  I put all the cold
food away praying that whatever was in store for me I would have time later
to create the meal.  Interesting that I became so involved in being a chef
that my sexual desires became more manageable and I was actually slightly
annoyed when Master interrupted my prep for a scene in the dungeon.  My,
how attitudes change.

I walked into the dungeon precisely five minutes after he bellowed.
Mr. Brown was naked.  He pointed to the table with all the straps.  I knew
I was in for something painful because the straps were designed to
immobilize me.  My cock started to strain in its cage.  I lay down on the
black leather-covered table and watched Mr. Brown secure my body completely
to it.  Mr. Brown released my cock from its prison and it sprung to life
just like the old days dripping copious amounts of pre-cum.  Master then
blindfolded me.  Next I felt him put some sort of cock ring device that
made my balls push out south of my hard cock.  I wondered what he was up
to.  I would soon find out.

"Ok, boy.  We are going to play a new game today.  Remember, you are my
entertainment.  Keep that in mind as we go through this process.  The game
is called "hit me."  In this game, you are going to say "hit me" and I am
going to hit you.  You will soon know where that will be.  Are you ready to
play, boy?"

"Yes, Sir."

"All right then.  Say the magic words."

I could not imagine what was going to happen, but I knew I was in for
excruciating pain.  I summoned the courage that a slave must have for his
Master and said the fatal words, "hit me, Sir."

Master took his knuckles and punched my balls squarely between them.  This
was a new sensation of pain that I never knew was possible.  It was one
thing to be whipped on the back or buttock where there is a lot of meat and
flesh to absorb the impact.  Even though I don't have the most muscular
chest in the world, when Master beat my chest while fucking my ass it
didn't hurt like this.  This was the most delicate area of any male.  There
is no protective muscle and flesh, plus the nerve endings are significant
in this part of the body.  My hard on went away immediately, but not the
pre-cum.  It would be pointless to describe the screaming involved in this
act.  As the game wore on, screaming became almost a moot point.

"Hit me, Sir."  Master was an expert at getting right between the
testicles, therefore, the impact went past them and onto my pelvic bone.
"Hit me, Sir."  This went on for quite some time.  I could feel that
Mr. Brown's cock was about as rigid as it has ever been administering pain
to his slave.  I know I was blindfolded, but I could feel the heat and
excitement coming from his body.  "Hit me, Sir."  As I realized that
Mr. Brown was so enamored with this experience, I became more relaxed and
willing to be hurt for him.  "Hit me, Sir."

After Mr. Brown sensed that I was getting into it and more accepting of
this situation, he switched things up on me to raise the intensity.  "Hit
me, Sir."  This next punch was not from his fist.  It did not land between
my balls.  The smash hit my balls dead center with a rubber mallet.  Now I
had to breathe through this new level of agony making sure that I got into
a place of receiving again as I had with Mr. Brown's fist.  "Hit me, Sir."

Interesting after several whops of the mallet my cock did something that I
didn't think it would do.  My dick started to get hard again.  "Hit me,
Sir.  Again, hit me, Sir.  Please Sir.  Hit me.  Oh yes.  Hit me.  Oh fuck,
Sir.  Oh my God.  Yes, Sir.  Hit me, Sir.  Hit me, Sir.  Oh God.  Oh no.
Oh fuck, Sir.  I'm going to cum, Sir.  Hit me, Sir.  Yes.  Hit me.  Hit me.
Hit me.  Hit me.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg!"

The cum shot to my blindfold.  It landed on my extended nipples and chest.
Quickly, Sir jumped on top of me, ripped the blindfold away and furiously
beat his meat with me licking his balls.  His fist was hitting my facial
cheeks, eyes and forehead while I made love to his testicles.  Suddenly he
moved back just enough so that his love spurted all over my face.  I tried
to lap it up, but there was too much and it was flying too many places.  I
got what I could.  It had been so long since I had tasted his cream.

When he was done, he got off the table and me.  He leaned over and kissed
me deep and passionately.  I could do nothing but kiss back because my
entire body was still strapped down.  Mr. Brown finished his affection,
unhooked me from the table with an order, "Clean up this mess, yourself and
make dinner."  Mr. Brown did not put my cock cage back on.

-----------------------------------

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