Date: Fri, 21 Oct 2011 15:38:00 -0700
From: Matt W <matt10019@gmail.com>
Subject: Bred Slave - Part 14

The following is a work of fiction.  All characters are over 18 years of
age.  There are depictions of sexual acts and homoerotic themes.  Please do
not read any further if you are not legally eligible or would be offended by
the material.

CHAPTER 17 - A DIFFERENT KIND OF PUNISHMENT

Following the events of the party, Ryan spent the rest of the weekend a bit
out of character.  He was cold and distracted for most of the day Saturday,
barking orders and then not bothering to pay attention as to whether I had
complied.  Saturday night, he went out alone, but awarded me the privilege
of watching two hours of television before I went to bed.  I was even
allowed to change the channels, but he of course set the sleep timer before
he left and forbid me from touching the remote control.  I was also
only allowed to watch on my knees beside the coffee table.  After less than
an hour, I had actually grown bored of channel surfing by crawling back and
forth to the TV itself.  The programming only left me depressed, as I
flipped through show after show depicting extravagant lifestyles, over the
top drama, and drunken antics of twenty something reality stars, none of
which I could relate to or aspire to any longer.  I retired to my room for a
somewhat restless sleep, knowing full well that I would not see Ryan again
until sometime the next day as he would inevitably end up passed out drunk
at his frat house, or some girl's bed.

I went through my morning routine on Sunday, daily chores, and then spent
the better part of the day bored out of my mind.  Around 5pm, Ryan stormed
into the house all but ignoring me.  I was in the kitchen surveying the
available grocery supply for an acceptable dinner.  I turned to kneel in
present, but he stopped me by throwing his gym duffel bag down at my feet.

"Water," he demanded.

"Yes, Sir."  I retrieved a bottle from the fridge and knelt down in front of
him, presenting the bottle.

He snatched it from my grasp, twisted the cap and tossed it against my bare
chest.  Chugging the water for several moments, I noticed that his t-shirt
was matted with sweat against his chest and stomach, his hair still damp
from either a workout or a pickup game with his frat brothers.  When the
bottle was drained, he exhaled, and tossed it on the floor between my spread
thighs.  Peeling off his t-shirt, he tossed it casually over my head and
shoulders, and turned from the kitchen.

"I'm eating dinner at the main house," he remarked gruffly as he began to
ascend the stairs.  "Eat whatever you want and then hit the books."

"Yes, Sir."  I pushed back up to my feet and returned to the refrigerator
again.

I contemplated the rare opportunity of free will, especially when inside the
house and under Ryan's direct supervision.  Whatever I wanted?  It seemed
like a test.  The fridge was stocked with Ryan's favorites.  As I reached
for a package of leftover grilled chicken, it almost felt wrong, like I was
stealing food that wasn't mine.

When he skipped down the stairs twenty minutes later, freshly showered and
dressed casually for dinner at the house in loose fitting khakis and an
untucked blue oxford, I was just finishing the remains of the grilled
chicken salad I'd assembled into my dog bowl on the floor by the kitchen
counter.

"Homework, boy," he reminded under his breath as he brushed by me on his way
out the door, letting it slam behind him.  I knew I would be in bed long
before he would return from the main house, and I was grateful for any
opportunity to catch up on sleep.

Ryan was more like his old self the next morning, barking at me for making
him late, despite the fact that I was waiting at attention by the front door
long before he bounded down the stairs with his backpack slung over one
shoulder.  He swung it into my unprotected stomach as he led the way through
outside.  Fifteen minutes later, we arrived brakes squealing into a parking
spot in our designated student lot.

"Usual time tonight, boy," he muttered as he hopped out of the jeep, barely
taking the time to shut off the engine and pocket the keys before he bolted
across the parking lot.  I could only assume he had a test of some sort.
When he was out of sight, I took care to retrieve my belongings before
locking the jeep for the day and heading to class.

The day seemed to drag on forever between classes and killing time studying
in the library.  Mondays were particularly long for me because after classes
ended for most students in the late afternoon, Ryan had a weekly study
session that met in the early part of the evening.  I was scheduled to
report to the jeep sharply at eight, but it wasn't unheard of to be left
waiting long beyond that.

I shivered slightly in the cool night air as I rested my ass against the
back bumper of the jeep. The parking lot was dimly lit at this time of night
when the late winter sun had long since set, and eerily quiet as the
majority of commuting students were already long gone by this hour.  I
almost smiled when I saw Ryan's figure strolling towards me in the distance,
grateful to be heading back to the house, despite any tasks or humiliations
may or may not await me there.  Pushing up to my feet, I stood at casual
attention, tensing my abs involuntarily as I wondered if he might throw his
books into my gut for a second time that day.

"Let's get out of here," he remarked when he came into earshot.

I nodded in agreement just as we both turned our heads in surprise at the
screeching of tires as a large dark SUV nearly tipped as it turned sharply
into the parking lot.  In unison, we turned our heads away from the blinding
high beams of light that seemed fixed directly at us suddenly.

"What the fuck?!" Ryan shouted, angrily towards the seemingly monstrous
vehicle as the lights only shone brighter in our direction, giving us no
choice but to shield our eyes with our arms as the headlights beat down on
us, as if pinning us between the front end of the SUV and the jeep.

I made the snap assumption that the driver of the SUV was some
half-intoxicated showoff ignorant to the fact that his reckless parking job
had come dangerously close to crushing Ryan and I against the back of the
jeep.  I couldn't have been more wrong.

The lights snapped off suddenly leaving us in a daze as the vehicle came to
a screeching halt just feet from us.  Car doors flew open, and the sound of
several pairs of shoes hitting the gravel of the parking lot became evident
as at least four guys rushed towards us.  All dressed in dark jeans and
black sweatshirts with the hoods pulled over their heads, they looked like
demon soldiers through my blurry gaze.

I froze in a dazed panic, adrenaline rushing through my body, as they
sloppily shoved us both hard against the jeep.  I gasped as a hard fist
drove into my stomach, and another across my right cheek hard enough to send
me down to the ground.

Ryan was grunting in pain and anger on the ground beside me, but I quickly
lost interest in his struggle as a foot found its way into my right side.
Instinctively, I tried to curl into a fetal position to protect myself, but
at least one of the attackers grabbed my under the arms, pulling me up
into a full nelson hold.

"Dude, which one is it?" one of the attackers called to another.

"Fuck, who cares.  Just bring 'em both," another suggested through the
melee.

"Yeah, all these Delts are the fucking same," the first agreed.

It became quickly evident that the assault had been premeditated and Ryan
had been the target.  The mention of Ryan's fraternity confirmed my theory,
as I was half shoved, and half marched forward until I was pressed against
the warm front end of the large SUV.  The two guys wrestled my arms behind
my back, and I felt a hard plastic scraping against my hand.  Moments later,
the unmistakable sound of a plastic zip-tie whipped through the air, and
then another as the straps were tightened against my wrists, locking my
hands behind my back.

"Fuck off!" Ryan spat, as he was shoved hard against the vehicle next to
me.  He struggled until the last possible moment when two more zip-ties
could be heard sealing his same fate.

Seconds later, a silky soft material was pulled over my head, and I felt a
light cord tighten around my neck just enough to hold it in place.  We were
being hooded with pillow cases.  I was near full panic mode as I was pulled
off of the SUV, and shoved again, stumbling blindly in the darkness of the
hood.  Fortunately, I could breathe through the thin material.  After
several struggled paces, my legs were literally swept out from under me, and
in one fell swoop, I was picked up and tossed on my stomach into the
vehicle, presumably onto the bed of the trunk.  Moments later, I felt Ryan
land next to me with a thud.

"Stay back here with them," one of the attackers ordered another.  "Make
sure they don't get loose or anything."

"Not a chance," another guy snickered, as the trunk slammed shut behind us,
and the SUV leaped into motion, speeding out of the parking lot as quickly
as it had arrived.

There were a handful of audible high fives resonating in the interior of the
SUV as our captors snickered, joked, and congratulated each other on the
ease of our capture.  With that, they turned the music up to a painfully
loud volume, and a deep bass began to pound against my eardrums.

As the vehicle bounced lightly along the road as we sped towards our unknown
destination, I tried not to panic as I tested the plastic handcuffs over and
over.  It was of little relief to know that I had become the innocent victim
of some sort of inter-fraternity war.  I had no idea who our captors were,
or what sort of crimes they were seeking vengeance for.  With Ryan, it could
have been anything, and for all these guys knew, I was his brother in arms,
and just as guilty.

Several minutes later, I felt the vehicle slow to a stop, and the music
suddenly cut along with the engine.  The trunk swung open behind us, and in
seconds I was being dragged feet first out of the SUV.  One of the guys
helped my feet find their footing on the ground before pulling me upright to
a standing position.  Strong hands seized each of my arms, and I was
marched, stumbling blindly between them, toward wherever they were taking
us.

"Get the fuck off of me!  You are going to fucking pay for this!" Ryan
shouted at them nearby, his voice muffled by the pillow case over his head.

"Step," one of my captors instructed as my foot was lifted up onto a big
step and they guided me up and then forward.

I heard the creaking of a large door, and felt the warmth of the interior as
I was pushed inside.  The faint smell of beer, mildew and dirty laundry
suggested we were definitely inside a fraternity house.

"Ha!  Holy shit!" someone exclaimed from a few paces in front of us, almost
giddy with excitement.  "You guys really pulled it off.  Nice!"

Several footsteps could be heard rushing from all angles, including the echo
of feet bounding down a wooden staircase, presumably as the rest of the
fraternity rushed in to watch.  There was a moment of silence, and then a
slow chorus of excitement began to build around the room, quickly turning to
ridicule and taunts as the volume increased.

"Damn straight!"

"Look at those pieces of shit!"

"Aww, I think that one's about to piss his pants!"

"They should be scared, the dumb fucks!"

All of the voices blended together as I had no choice but to stand there.  I
was actually grateful for the pillow case over my head at that point.

"SHUT UP!" a much more authoritative voice commanded, and the room went
instantly silent.  "Not here.  Take them to the basement."

The silence was quickly broken with another round of audible high fives and
taunts, as my arms were seized again and I was pulled forward stumbling
deeper into the house.

When we reached the basement steps, it was much scarier to descend them
bound and blindfolded as I was, but the guys divided one in front of me, and
one behind, holding me upright as they instructed me to take each step
down.  Ryan had gone first, and I noticed his protests had become much less
frequent as we descended into the depths of the house, where it became
alarmingly clear we were at the mercy of our captors.

The smell of stale beer and must was much more pungent in the basement, and
the rubber soles of my sneakers stuck slightly with each step
forward across the hard cement floor.

"Alright, right over there," the ringleader commanded again.  I was shuffled
a few paces further, presumably next to Ryan.  "Take their wallets and
phones.  Gotta figure out which one of these bitches is which."

I felt rough hands around the pockets of my jeans, and moments later both my
wallet and cell phone were fished from my pockets.

"It's this one. Grey," another of the frat guys remarked across the room.

"And who the fuck is that one, then?"

"Uh...looks like Andrew something, never heard of him actually," another guy
in possession of my wallet remarked. "Just another Delt.   Who cares?"

"Yeah, we got the one we want.  Just throw that one in the utility closet
for now until we figure out what to do with this bitch."

I futilely tried to protest as I was once again pushed and dragged off to
the side of the room.  I heard another door creak open, and then I was
shoved forward, apparently into the closet.  I heard the dull roar of
machinery ticking away within the room, as my captors guided me until I was
pressed against a cold cinder block wall.

"I'd suggest getting comfortable and not wandering too far from that wall,
unless you wanna get yourself hurt," one of the nicer captors advised me.  I
nodded slightly, and waited for the door to slam shut behind me before I
turned and used my bound hands to feel my way down the wall until my ass
found its way to the cold cement floor.

Of course, this type of confinement and sense of unknowing was not new to
me, but I had no sense of trust established with these unhinged frat boys.
No idea how long they intended to keep either of us and no idea what was in
store for myself, or worse, for Ryan.

My mind wandered over the possibilities of what Ryan had done to spur this
kidnapping, not to mention what was going to happen to him.  Part of me felt
a sense of satisfaction, as if the comeuppance I had wanted to give him so
many times during the course of my slavery was being inadvertently
delivered.  But another part of me, the part that still cared for him deep
down, as a friend, as a brother, worried for his safety.  I strained to hear
anything from outside the room.  Anything I might have been able to hear was
drowned out by the low dull of the furnace and air conditioning systems
sharing the space with me.

What seemed like at least an hour had passed, maybe less, maybe more.  I had
become so accustomed to meditating in states of bondage and confinement that
I rarely thought about how much time passed by any longer.  It had become
simply irrelevant.  The pillow case hood had grown increasingly
uncomfortable though.  I could still breathe, but sweat was dripping down my
neck and forehead from the steamy confines of the hood, and I had no way to
relieve the sensation.

Suddenly without warning, I heard a clicking at the door handle, and then
the sound of the door creeping open.  A light rush of cooler air filled the
room, and then quickly vanished as the door shut again.  I sat up a bit
straighter as I could make out the shadow of a guy approaching me.  Oddly
enough, he was alone.

"Well, well, well, look who it is," the guy spoke, as he crouched down in
front of me.  His fingers fished at my neck for a few seconds, loosening the
tie that held the pillow case in place.  In one swoop, the case was whisked
up and off of my head, and I gasped for breath.

It was Sean.

I blinked as my eyes adjusted to the dim light of the utility room, looking
up at him as he rose back to his feet, tossing the pillow case aside.
"Sean?"  I was confused.  "What...who?  You?  Why?"

"Oh, just shut up," he spat.  "Have you completely forgotten the other night
already?  The party?  Because I sure as fuck haven't."

"Yeah, but...that wasn't...I mean. I didn't," I stammered to explain my way
out of defending Ryan over him after he caught Ryan fucking Kara.

"You didn't?  What?  You didn't fucking hit me?  Not only in front of my
girl, but an entire fucking sorority?" he demanded, raising his voice in
anger.

"I'm sorry."  It was all I could managed, looking down sheepishly.  "I
didn't know she was your girl."

"Yeah, well you don't know a whole hell of a lot, do you?"  He barked.
"Like, I bet you had no fucking clue I was pledging the Kappas, did you?"

I looked up at him in surprise.  Sure enough, there was just enough light in
the room to make out the small gleam of a pledge pin affixed to the neck of
his black hoodie.  "I didn't," I agreed.

"Yeah, funny thing.  I found myself seriously lacking in the friend
department at the start of this semester," he recounted, referencing my
obvious absence from his life. "But, you know what?  Guess things have a way
of working out for the best.  Now I have a whole fucking house full of
brothers that actually have my back, and the Kappas aren't going to stand
around and let some fucking Delt walk all over one of us, even if I'm just a
pledge.  Especially not some spoiled townie punk like Ryan Grey."  His eyes
darkened.  "Or, you."

"I know, I'm sorry, he shouldn't have done that," I rattled.  "I shouldn't
have done that.  It just happened.  I'm sorry.  I'm fucking sorry.  But, I'm
not even a Delt, and even if I was, you can't just go around fucking
kidnapping people either, dude."

"You're right.  My mistake," Sean held up his hands in mock innocence.  "So
maybe you're not one of his frat brothers.  You're still his friend,
roommate, practically his actual brother..."  His voice trailed, and he
looked down at me with an inquisitive glare.  "But you're more than just
that, aren't you?"

I looked up at him sharply, my face flushing in alarm.  "What do you mean?"

"You heard me," he said coldly.  "Let's see here..."  Sean reached into his
pocket and produced my cell phone.  He began scrolling through it.  "Bitch,
spend the next hour in the closest stall with your finger up your ass.  Yes,
Sir.  Cunt, where are you?  At the jeep, Sir. I said gym, boy.  Sorry, Sir.
You will be, cum dump."  He looked down at me as I swallowed in silent
horror as he read a series of texts from my phone between me and Ryan.
"Should I continue?" He asked.

I shook my head, no.

"Do you want to know what I think? Cunt," he asked tauntingly, adding the
insult at the end.  "I think you're a fucking punk ass slave."

I looked up at him pleadingly, but unable to hide the truth from my face.

"Want to tell me I'm wrong?  No?"  He scoffed. "Unbelievable.
Un-fucking-believable.  You're actually his slave."

"No!  It's not like that," I panicked, and struggled to back pedal.

"Oh, it's not?"  He scoffed.  "Right.  You know, I'm not as fucking naive as
you think I am.  Where do you think I met Kara?"

I looked up at him.  The question had crossed my mind, but I barely had time
to consider it.  "Class?"

Sean smirked. "Try online.  Turns out we shared some mutual interests, and
I'm not talking about long walks on the beach.  But again, you already know
all about that, don't you?  Her, shall we say, special interests?"

I shrugged.  "She's Ali's roommate.  She kept to herself."

"Errrrr." He imitated a buzzer.  "She's more than Ali's roommate, and that's
why Ali broke up with you.  Just cut the bullshit.  Ali is Kara's slave.
I've known for weeks now, and wanted to spare you from the truth.  Thought I
was doing you a solid, letting you mope around campus feeling sorry for
yourself.  Figured the truth would hurt more than whatever bullshit lie she
made up to break it off with you.  Except, once again, you already knew the
truth.  And now, I finally know the truth.  The real truth."

"You don't know anything about me," I snapped.

"You're right.  I thought I did, but now I have no idea what the fuck you've
gotten yourself into.  Had no idea you were even a fag."

"I'm not gay," I retorted quietly. "Neither is Ryan."

"Sure, whatever you say."  He smirked.  "Kara at least admits to being bi,
which I have to admit I find pretty hot.  You know what else is hot?"  He
paused for effect.  "When we both fuck Ali at the same time."

I narrowed my eyes angrily at him, and then with as much coordination as I
could muster, pushed up to my feet from the floor, as if to charge him with
my shoulder.  It was foolhardy, cuffed as I was.

He had taken a stunned step back, and then easily took hold of my shoulders
to stop my advance.  We glared at each other for a heated moment, until he
drove his right fist unexpectedly into my gut.

"Ughn!"  I winced, the wind leaving my lungs as I started to crumple in his
grasp.

"Are you that stupid?"  He scolded, as he half-guided my descent to the
floor as I gasped for breath on one knee.

When I recovered slightly, I started to push back up, and his grasp on my
upper arms tightened.

"No. Stay down. On your knees where you belong.  Right, slaveboy?"

I looked up at him with a mix of hurt and anger.  How could he do this to
me?  My left knee collapsed under the pressure on my shoulders, and I fell
hard to both knees.

"Much better."  He gave me a playful slap on the cheek.  "Kara has been
showing me the ropes, helping me to explore this little fantasy of mine.
Don't get me wrong, I don't plan on making a full time job out of it, but
that slave of hers is a real slut for it.  She'd do just about anything for
some cock.  A real man's cock, that is."

I grit my teeth and glared up at him.  "Untie me and I'll show who the real
man is."

"Tsk, tsk. Drew, Drew, Drew," he sighed.  "Haven't we already established
that you're hardly a man.  I mean, how can you call yourself a
'man' when you're some other dude's bitch?"

I looked down, flushing with an additional dose of shame.  "What are you
going to do?  What do you want?" I managed, quietly.

"With you?  Nothing.  Frankly, you're just collateral damage here.  A waste
of time."  He shrugged.  "Just consider yourself lucky that I'm the one that
snagged your phone."  He chuckled darkly, and stepped forward to give my
hair a rough mussing.  "Don't worry, slaveboy.  Your secret is safe with
me."

I was taken aback.  "That's it?"

"Yeah, that's it.  I mean, what did you think I was gonna do?
Blackmail you?  It's not like you even have anything worth giving me. You're
pretty much...worthless."  He smirked. "What?  Disappointed that I'm not
going to shove my cock down your throat?  Is that what you were hoping for?"

"Fuck you," I spat.  I couldn't help myself.

"Yeah?"  He demanded, his voice rising.  His eyes flashed with a hint of
arrogant rage, and he grabbed the collar of my hoodie with his left hand,
steadying me as he drew his right fist back.

Suddenly, the door to the room flew open with another rush of cooler.  Like
deer in headlights, Sean and I both turned to see two of the older Kappas
push through the door way.

"Whoa, dude, what are you doing in here?" One of them with dark,
spiky hair asked, clearly surprised as Sean release his grip on my collar.

"I knew I heard voices.  And why is the pillowcase off?  He's not supposed
to see us, man!"  The second one in a red baseball cap scolded, with a
slight hint of concern in his voice.

"Relax guys," Sean assured them.  "I know this kid.  He's the one that
punched me after Grey...after Grey fucked my girl.  Just having a little
heart to heart is all."

"Oh yeah?" The first guy asked, raising a curious eyebrow.  "Well, let us
help teach this punk a lesson."  He nudged the other Kappa and they stepped
around me, grabbing me by the arms and hoisting me up to my feet.

"Go ahead.  Make it count," urged the one in the hat.

I tested their grip lightly as they held my already bound arms firmly, and
looked to Sean with a slight sense of pleading in my eyes.  He stared hard
at me for a long moment, and then with little warning, his face twisted into
a satisfied smirk as he drove his right fist into the left side of my jaw.

 "Yeah!" the dark haired guy cheered.

I grunted as I reeled to the side, held firm by the two Kappas, my jaw
throbbing instantly.  Looking back to Sean, I saw little in the way of
regret in his eyes, just a look of satisfaction.  We were even, and we both
felt it.

"Want another shot?" the guy in the hat asked?

"Nah," Sean dismissed the suggestion.  "He knows he deserved that, but we're
not fucking barbarians.  Besides, it's Grey that's here to learn a lesson."

"Right.  Speaking of which...you gotta see it, man," the dark haired guy
encouraged, excitedly.  "That kid is never going to fuck with one of us
again by the time we're done with him."

Sean grinned.  "Yeah?"

"Yeah, c'mon," the guy in the hat nodded towards the door, as the two guys
shoved me to the ground.

I raised my eyebrow in alarm.  My mind raced with a mix of curiosity and
concern over what they were doing to Ryan.  They all looked at me.

"Aww, is this little punk worried about his boyfriend?" the dark haired guy
taunted.

They all shared a laugh as one of them scooped up the discarded pillowcase
and forced it back over my head, despite my struggles, cinching it loosely
around my neck, but enough that it wasn't going anywhere.

"Don't worry.  We'll make sure you get him back in one piece," the other guy
added.

They laughed again and exited the room, slamming the door behind them.  I
was alone again, helpless, with nothing to do but ponder Ryan's fate, as
well as my own.

After what felt like hours later, possibly all night, as I dozed in and out
of sleep against the cinder block wall, I heard the door open again.
Rousing to consciousness, my arms were seized and I was pulled up to my feet
and marched unsteadily out of the room.

"Your boyfriend misses you," one of the Kappas teased as I was guided
along.

There were a few inaudible whispers around me, and I could feel eyes
watching me as they guided me along through the basement blindly.  We
paused, and I heard another door opening.  They shoved me forward
into through the doorway into another room, and my nostrils were assaulted
with an acrid aroma.  It was unmistakably a mix of garbage, stale beer and
maybe even a hint of piss.  My stomach turned almost instantly.

The pillow case was loosened briskly around my neck, and the case was
quickly yanked off of my head.  I blinked in disbelief in the dim light of
the room.  An almost unrecognizable Ryan was lying on the cement floor
bound, spread eagle, in the center of the small room.  They had replaced the
pillowcase over his head with a simple bandanna as a blindfold.  His jeans
and fraternity sweatshirt were drenched and matted to his body like a second
skin, while remnants of garbage, everything from banana peels to crumpled
tissues, were strewn both around him and on top of him.

My mouth was agape as a crumpled beer can fell suddenly from the ceiling,
and landed squarely on his stomach, before rolling off to the floor with a
slight clang.  I looked up to see a large dark hole in the ceiling which I
quickly realized was a garbage shoot.  The Kappas had replaced their trash
room receptacle with Ryan, and apparently had taken every advantage of the
opportunity to deposit as much waste as they could during the course of the
evening.  He just looked so pathetic, I couldn't help but feel sorry for
him.

"Your friend makes a good dumpster," one of the Kappas holding my left arm
remarked.  "Wanted to make sure you had a good look."

I winced as a digital camera snapped time and time again, illuminating the
dimly lit room with blinding flash after flash.

Hearing the voice, Ryan craned his neck towards us, and began to pull
violently on the ropes that bound him.  "Get me the fuck out of here!"  He
demanded, likely for the millionth time since he had been tied down.

"We'd be happy to, man," another Kappa responded with a shrug as he stepped
by me into the room, sipping something, presumably beer, from a red cup.
"Just waitin' on that apology to my little bro."

"God!  I'm sorry, I'm fucking sorry!"  Ryan spat angrily.  "Now, let me go!"

The lead Kappa laughed, and proceeded to slowly pour the contents of his red
cup over Ryan, starting with his chest, and letting the rest trickle over
his neck and face as he added, "And, mean it."

Ryan grimaced and sputtered as the beer sloshed over his face, some running
into his mouth.  He took several deep breaths.  I knew him well enough to
know it took all he could to temper his anger in that moment.  "I'm sorry.
I'm really sorry."  He repeated, this time with much more veracity in his
voice.  I almost believed he meant it.

"I dunno, bro.  You buy that?"  The Kappa asked, turning to Sean who was
standing next to him with his arms crossed.

"I'll buy it," Sean conceded, with a shrug.  "On one condition."

Ryan's relief was short lived as he turned his head towards Sean's voice,
waiting for the condition.

"Want you to admit to all of us what a worthless piece of trash you are,"
Sean demanded, his voice icy cold.

The room fell silent as we all looked down at Ryan.

"You heard him," the Kappa prompted, nudging Ryan with the toe of his
sneaker.

It took several long seconds for Ryan to finally speak.  I knew it was pure
torture for him, but I could only imagine the way he felt, drenched in beer,
garbage, and God knows what else.  "Fine.  I'm a worthless piece of trash.
Happy?"

"Yeah, you are," Sean agreed before spitting in Ryan's direction.  He looked
over his shoulder to another one of his brothers.  "Did you get it?"

"Yeah, man, good stuff," one of the other guys snickered, as he snapped a
handheld digital video recorder shut.  "He tells one person about this, and
this video goes viral all over the web.  Hey, maybe someone will even make a
remix out of it."

"Let's just get them out of here," Sean suggested, ignoring the suggestion.

"Wait." The Kappa in command gestured to me.  "What about him?"

"What do you mean," Sean asked, his voice rising slightly, looking over to
me.  "He's harmless, just a punk lackey.  He squeals, and we make sure Grey
still goes down.  Leave it up to Grey to keep his bitch in line."

"Nah, no, man, not good enough when my ass is on the line here.  All of our
asses are on the line.  We need insurance, dude."  The lead Kappa paced
slightly, as the others murmured in agreement.  "Okay. Got an idea."  I
could see him grinning with amusement and my heart raced a bit as I waited
for his strike of genius to be revealed.

"What are you gonna do to him?" Sean asked, breaking the suspense.

"Nothin'.  It's more like what he's gonna do for us, or really, for you."
The commanding Kappa smiled, as he draped his arm around Sean.  "Whip out
your junk, my man.  Gonna snap a few shots of this punk worshipping your
dick.  That'll definitely keep him quiet."

Sean squirmed uncomfortably, as everyone in the room turned to him.  I could
feel my face flushing again as I glanced down at Sean's crotch.  The thought
of sucking my former friend's dick in front of an audience was a
humiliating punishment for sure, but in reality, they had no idea I'd
already been subjected to much worse.  I actually felt bad for Sean as he
clearly demonstrated his hesitation.

"No, c'mon man.  I really don't think this is necessary," Sean countered.

"What was that, pledge?"  The Kappa demanded, removing his arm from around
Sean.  "You're not refusing an order from an active are you?  And, from me,
your big bro, of all people?"  Reluctantly, Sean shook his head.  "Good,
that's what I thought.  Now get on with it, little bro.  Drop trou.  Make us
all proud."

I held my breath as Sean took a long pause and then reluctantly began
loosening his belt and fly of his jeans to a rousing round of encouraging
claps and whistles from his frat brothers.  Gaining confidence in his cause,
he briskly shoved his pants and boxers down to his knees, giving his freed
cock and balls a playful jostle.  The Kappa brothers howled with enthusiasm.

"That's more like it." Sean's big brother gave him an encouraging shoulder
rub.  "Okay guys, let's get this punk on his knees and his face up on that
Kappa cock."

I was shoved forward with enough force to drop me to my knees in front of
Sean.  It was the second time that day, but this time, neither of us were in
control.  A bright flash erupted in front of my eyes, and I was blinking
blindly as another followed right behind.  In fact, I couldn't see anything
as a firm hand on the back of my head pushed me forward and ground my face
into Sean's crotch.  I could feel his hairy balls, and a semi-hard dick
bounce and grind into my lips, nose, and cheeks as the older frat brothers
did their best to humiliate me.

"Yeah, yeah, that's it!  Get up on that cock like the bitch that you are.
Look like you're likin' it too.  Yeah, right there.  Get that, get that!"
The commanding Kappa barked at the photographer, like he was directing some
sort of amateur porno.

I grimaced, trying to keep my lips pursed as my nose was ground into the
slightly crack between Sean's balls and inner thigh.  I could smell his
crotch sweat before I felt its dampness against my nose.

"Smile, cocksucker!" one of them chided.

"Get that dick in your mouth," the ring leader demanded, giving my head a
shove from behind.  "Get a real good taste."

After some considerable chanting and prodding from the spectators, I felt
Sean's semi-hard cock push into my mouth until it was resting on my tongue.
Whoever had a hold of my head continued to grind my face into Sean's crotch
while I struggled to keep up.  Suddenly, hands found their way to my
shoulders, and I was shoved backwards.

"Okay, okay, think we got plenty.  Don't actually want this punk slobbering
on my junk," Sean declared, tugging his shirt down a bit to wipe my saliva
from his dick.  "Who knows what kind of shit he's carrying around."

The Kappas all laughed at Sean's joke.  I turned to glance at Ryan, though
blue stars were still clouding my vision.  He was quiet, helpless but to
watch my humiliation as it had unfolded.  I couldn't help but wonder if he
was angry, indifferent, or actually enjoyed it.

"Alright, alright.  Little bro is right, let's get these bitches out of
here," the lead Kappa ordered.

At that, a flutter of crumpled white tissues fell from the ceiling like
feathers, one of the landing squarely on Ryan's face.  The Kappas all
laughed, as the pillow case found it's way back over top of my head.

A half hour later, we were back on our stomachs bound in the trunk of the
SUV sliding around a plastic tarp they had laid down to protect the trunk
from Ryan's filthy clothes as we bounced along the bumpy road.  The SUV came
to a sudden halt, and we were pulled out of the back by our ankles, and
guided to our feet until we were standing.  At that, our plastic cuffs were
quickly cut off, and we were given a shove forward away from the SUV.

"Your wallets and phones will be waiting for you under your jeep," one of
the Kappas informed us quickly, as we heard the trunk slam shut.  "Better
run before someone else finds them first."  With that, a few more car doors
slammed shut, and we heard the SUV speed off.

Ripping the pillowcases off of our heads as fast as we could, Ryan and I
looked around as we inhaled the cool early morning air.  It was near dawn,
and the light of the morning was just starting to peak over the university
buildings.  They had left us on the edge of campus, a short walk from the
student parking lots.

We made eye contact, exchanging a long glance that shared everything we
needed to say to each other about the experience we had just endured, and
then looked away shyly.  Without a word, I knew never to speak of it again.
Ryan, my master, had just been humiliated in front of his slave and had been
helpless to defend himself.

In complete silence, we walked back to the jeep where we found our wallets
and phones, as promised.  Fortunately, it was too early for students to be
around. Ignoring the condition of his clothes, Ryan climbed into the
driver's seat, and took control of the vehicle while I rode silently beside
him back to the house.

I glanced at the dash board as we pulled up the long driveway.  It was about
7:00am.  Ryan shifted the jeep into park and switched off the
engine.  Suddenly, the garage doors of the main house began to open,
startling both of us as we were turning towards the guest house.  Mr. Grey
stepped out from the shadows of the garage, his arms crossed over his
typical black t-shirt, as if he had been waiting for us.

Ryan looked like a deer in headlights.

"Where the hell have you been all night?"  Mr. Grey demanded, his voice calm
but stern.  "And, what the fuck is this?"  He asked, motioning to Ryan's
state of appearance.

In the light, I was able to get a closer look at him.  His clothes were
still damp, his hair matted to his forehead in a multitude of directions,
the front of his sweatshirt was stained with a variety of colors.

"Dad?  I...I can explain,"  Ryan started, clearly embarrassed to have been
caught in such a state.

"Save it," Mr. Grey snapped.  "I don't have time for your fraternity
nonsense or your blatant irresponsibility.  Look at yourself.  You're a
complete disgrace, and in front of a slave?"

Ryan's face reddened as he looked down at his appearance. "It's a
long story.  It's not what it looks like."

"I know exactly what it looks like," Mr. Grey barked.  "It looks like you
just made another mess out of things that I'm going to have to clean up,
except this time, you are the mess."  He paused and glared at his son,
looking him up and down.  "You still have a complete lack of discipline. You
claim to want more responsibility, and yet you can't even take care of
yourself, let alone one of my slaves.  How am I supposed to trust you?"

"You can trust me!" Ryan almost pleaded, his voice going up an octave. "This
wasn't my fault!"

"It's never your fault," Mr. Grey snapped.  "And, that's the problem.  This
doesn't just happen," he noted in disgust, waving his hand over Ryan's
appearance.  "You need to grow up, son.  And, you need prove to me that
you're responsible enough to handle owning a slave, but right now, I'm sorry
to say that you are not."

"But, dad!" Ryan exclaimed.

"No buts," Mr. Grey declared firmly.  "The boy stays with me until further
notice."

Ryan looked over to me with a mix of shock and anger.  We could both tell
from the tone and sincerity of Mr. Grey's voice that further protests would
be futile.

"Slave!  Don't just stand there," Mr. Grey called over to me suddenly.
"Fetch your books, your running shoes, and your jock from the guest house,
then report to the treadmill.  You missed your run this morning, so you will
run twice as far as punishment."

I gulped, and nodded sheepishly.  "Yes, Sir."

"And you."  Mr. Grey turned back to Ryan.  "Get yourself cleaned up and get
your ass back to that campus on time for your first class.  I don't care if
you were up all night."

Ryan grumbled something inaudible as he shoved past me and stormed into the
guest house.

I glanced towards Mr. Grey, and then silently followed behind Ryan to grab
my things as ordered before reporting to the basement of the main house.  My
stomach was in knots. I was shocked, confused, and a little fearful of being
taken back by Mr. Grey.  I had always known that I technically belonged to
him, but I had been Ryan's charge since day one.  Besides a few brushes in
the main house, Mr. Grey had stayed out of the way, leaving Ryan to train me
as he had been taught.

I felt bad for Ryan in a way as I watched him bound up the steps like a
scolded little boy.  His bedroom door slammed so hard that the entire house
shook.  Solemnly, I rummaged in the trunk next to the door for my running
gear and glanced over my shoulder at the main house, which suddenly looked
alarmingly menacing in the misty morning light.

***

CHAPTER 18 - REPOSSESSED

An hour later, I was panting, red faced and lungs burning, as the treadmill
beneath my feet rolled relentlessly onward.  I glanced down at the digital
display with a bit of relief as I reached the 9.5 mile mark and the machine
beeped mercifully, slowing the conveyor down a bit for the final half-mile
cool down.  I inhaled deep breaths as I watched the last quarter mile tick
away until the conveyor belt mercifully slowed, a series of loud beeps
announcing the completion of my run.

"Good, slave."  I nearly leaped out of my skin at Mr. Grey announced his
presence behind me.  Turning to glance at him, he snapped his fingers and
pointed at the floor a few paces in front of him.  "Display."

My blood went cold despite the rate at which my heart was pumping.  I hopped
off the treadmill and stepped forward to the spot where he pointed, spread
my legs a bit, adjusted my posture, and clasped my hands behind my head,
looking up but not directly at him.  There was nothing I could do about the
heaving of my chest or the waterfalls of sweat running down my body from the
run.

SLAP!

Without warning, his open palm flew across my face, sending me reeling from
both the sting of the slap and pure shock.

"Worthless," he sneered, in a low but cold tone.  "When I tell a slave to
'display' in this house, I expect to see a slave actually and
fully displayed.  Understood, boy?"

I followed his eyes down to the off-white, sweat soaked pouch of my jock
strap.  "Yes, Sir."  Nodding sheepishly, I quickly scampered to kick off my
running shoes, pulled the socks off quickly and shimmied out of the damp
jock, before resuming the display position.

"Better." He remarked, as he glowered at me for several long moments.

As he circled me slowly, I remained nearly frozen in place, my mind
wandering back to the first time I had been forced to display myself in this
way for Mr. Grey and Ryan in the back dungeon room of the basement.  Though
I was now much more used to the feeling of helpless exposure, the
humiliation of this sort of inspection was omnipresent.

"Not bad, not bad," he murmured, as the rough skin of his fingers raked
lightly across the curves of my biceps and down across the cuts of
musculature in my abdomen.  It was true I had never been in better shape.
The strict diet and relentless exercise regime Ryan had imparted on me made
sure of it.  His hand made its way up to my firm pectorals, and then
suddenly stopped at my right nipple.  Without warning, he took hold of it,
and twisted it viciously between his thumb and forefinger, sending a searing
wave of pain through the nervous system in my upper body.  "I believe I gave
you a compliment, slave?  Nothing to say?"

"Thank you, Sir!  Sorry, Sir!" I nearly shouted, as I winced through the
pain and struggled to maintain my composure and fight the desire to swat his
hand away.

"You really are a sorry excuse for a slave," Mr. Grey spat, as he released
my nipple, and slapped me lightly across my damp chest.  "We'll fix that."
I swallowed, as he continued his quick inspection, giving my dangling cock a
quick stroke before weighing my full, sweaty balls lightly in his hand.  "So
much potential.  It would be a shame to see it all go to waste."

He released my balls and took a step back.  I tried not to make eye contact
with him as I stared straight ahead as best I could, but I could still feel
his eyes raking over me.

"Any exams scheduled today, boy?"

I thought for a moment. School had been the furthest thought from my mind
after the ordeal of the previous night in the basement of the Kappa house
and the way Mr. Grey had seized control of me from the moment we had arrived
home.  "No, Sir."

"Good.  Your education here will be the priority for today.  Get on your
knees."  He snapped and pointed to the ground.

It was a sound and gesture I had become accustomed to, and my knees buckled
on instinct as I dropped to the ground, keeping my hands behind my head.  I
could feel myself shivering slightly, despite my profuse sweating from the
run, my nerves were on overdrive.  I kept my eyes straight ahead which left
me little choice but to focus squarely on the crotch of his dark jeans.
Unlike most men his age, Mr. Grey wore well fitted clothing, and the size of
his substantial package was evident.

"Hmm," he murmured as he took hold suddenly of the dog tags dangling around
my neck.  I glanced down as he fingered the small metal plates inscribed
with Ryan's initials and cell phone number.  With a sudden firm yank, I felt
the small metal chain dig into the back of my neck for a split second before
popping open from the force of the pull.  He let the broken chain dangle in
front of my face for a moment before chucking it carelessly to the side.

My eyes followed the chain as I realized much more clearly that Mr. Grey was
much more serious about repossessing me than I had realized earlier.  He
stepped behind me and I waited nervously as I listened to him rummage around
in another part of the basement.  Moments later, he returned, holding up
a circle of metal between his hands.  It was a thick steel collar, much like
the one I had worn during the first weeks of my training.  Since school
began, Ryan had typically kept me in a thick gauge leather collar around the
house, which was much more light weight and comfortable.

"I don't need to remind you what this is," he mused as he circled the metal
around my neck, and carefully fitted the lock with a loud click.  "Much
better."

He stepped back, and I immediately felt the heft of the collar as it weighed
against the back of my neck and shoulders.

"Thirsty, boy?"  He asked suddenly, as if just noticing my sweaty condition.

I nodded. "Yes, Sir."

"Heel, boy."  He nodded over his shoulder and started to turn as I pushed up
to one knee.   Stopping abruptly, he turned around and pushed down on my
left shoulder. "No, slave. Crawl."

I hesitated for a moment in surprise, and then nodded slightly as I dropped
to all fours.  "Yes, Sir."

He gave my damp hair a rough tousle of approval, and continued walking.  I
struggled to keep pace with him as I crawled across the carpeted basement
floor out of the fitness area and into the rec room, past the pool table and
over to the fully stocked bar.  Mr. Grey held up his hand for me to stop,
and snapped pointing at the ground by the end of the bar where the carpet
ended and a tile began, surrounding the bar area.  I crawled over to the
spot and got back up on my knees, placing my hands behind my back.  Wincing
slightly, I adjusted the width of my knees on the hard tile.

"Good, slave. There's hope for you yet," Mr. Grey remarked, as he turned on
the faucet of the built in sink.  The sound alone of running water made me
instantly more thirsty, my throat tightening up.  "Now, you said you were
thirsty?"

"Yes, Sir."  I nodded.

"And, how does a slave ask for something?"

I glanced up at him.  "Please, Sir.  May I have some water, Sir?"

Mr. Grey chuckled, as he ran his fingers under the faucet playing with the
stream of water.  "Polite.  But, I'm not convinced you really need it.  Why
should I bother with the wants of a slave?"

I swallowed.  It was clear he was testing me.  "Please, Sir.  Please let me
have some water.  I'm dehydrated and need water.  Please, Sir!"

"You're hardly dehydrated," he laughed.  "You're sweating like the pig that
you are."  He took a glass out of the cabinet, and let it run into the
glass.  For effect, he took a big swig of water, and then threw the remained
back into the sink under the running faucet.  "Try harder."

"Please, Sir!  I'm begging you...please let me have some water," I paused.
"I can serve better if I'm not thirsty.  I'll do anything, please, Sir!"

He smirked slightly at the suggestion.  "Very well."  Turning the faucet
off, he put his right foot forward, almost stomping his rubber soled, black
leather boot on the ground.  Snapping his fingers again, he pointed at the
boot.  "Get to work, then."

I hesitated for a long moment, and then begrudgingly leaned forward, licking
my dry lips slightly just before they connected with the soft leather of his
boot.  The smell of leather assaulted my nostrils before the taste as I let
my tongue just graze the surface of the shoe with a small wince.

"Get down on it, slave.  No hesitation.  Don't worry about the taste, don't
worry about where the boot has been," he coached me with an even, firm tone
as I slobbered across the top of his boot.  "Your only concern is doing what
you're told, pleasing your Master, showing me that you're useful, reminding
me that you're worth something."

The steady stream of water from the faucet taunted me in the background,
gurgling slightly in the pipes hidden beneath the bar as the wasted water
swirled down the drain.  I listened to him and tried to absorb what he was
saying as I licked disdainfully at his boot, my tongue growing drier with
each pass over the smooth leather.  It might as well have been sandpaper.

"Stick that ass out," he commanded.  I did my best to raise my ass as I
crouched down on his boot.  "Good.  Now, the other one."

Almost mechanically, I moved to the other boot and began to lick away.
Suddenly, I realized I no longer tasted the leather or felt the texture, but
I continued to lick, stroke after stroke with my nose pressed against the
boot.

"Alright, boy," Mr. Grey interrupted, nudging my face aside gently with the
tip of his boot.  "Good job.  Back up on your knees."  I obeyed, as I
watched him gratefully as he picked up a large glass ash tray from the top
of the bar and ran it under the running faucet.  My eyes followed the nearly
overflowing dish as he set it down in front of me.  "Drink. No hands."

"Thank you, Sir."  Keeping my hands behind my back, I leaned forward and
lapped at the water.  I was so thirsty that it barely phased me that I was
drinking from an ashtray.  The water was wet and that's all I cared about it
as it soothed my dry tongue and throat.

When I was nearly finished, a boot suddenly swept the dish out from under my
face, spilling the remaining liquid and sending the ashtray bouncing to
several feet away.  "Okay, enough.  You will have the opportunity to earn
more later.  Heel."

I crawled after him as we crossed back through the basement to the dungeon
door.  He opened the heavy to reveal the concealed dungeon, and my stomach
twisted with nerves as I crawled after him over the threshold onto the cool,
hard cement floor.  The door slammed behind me, and he picked up a short
leather crop hanging off the wall.

CRACK!

I jumped as he swatted the back of my ass, wincing from the sting.

"Crawl to the middle of the floor.  Then I want you on your feet.  Full
display."

Reluctantly, I obeyed, grateful to stand up off of the hard floor, despite
the ever present humiliation of a fully display.  I turned to face him.

He circled me, toying with the crop as I shivered nervously.  "Do you
remember the first time you stood here, slave?"

"Yes, Sir."

"And?"

"Sir?"  I didn't know what he wanted me to say.

"Do you think you've changed, boy?"

"Yes, Sir," I said, truthfully.

"How, boy?"

I swallowed as he continued to circle me, unsure of the answer he expected
or wanted to hear.  The fact was that I had changed.  It was difficult to
even recall the way I felt before I had submitted.  Everything about those
first days felt so distant and so bizarre.  Before, I didn't even know such
a lifestyle existed, let alone that it existed for me.  And, in the months
that followed, I realized each day of my enslavement that it was impossible
to know what to expect and pointless to try and anticipate what would come
next.

"I've learned a lot, Sir?"

CRACK!

He whacked me across the ass with the crop.  "Learned, what?"

I winced, steadying my stance.  "How to be a slave, Sir."

CRACK! CRACK!

I lurched as he cropped my other ass cheek and the back of my left thigh.

"Wrong answer, boy."

My chest heaved slightly as I braced for another whack, trying to anticipate
which part of my body he might assault next.  "Sir?  Sorry, Sir..."

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

He rained the crop down across my chest and stomach in rapid motion.

"From now on, your focus isn't HOW to be a slave," he paused for effect as
he lifted my chin slightly with the end of his crop.  "From now on, you will
focus on accepting that you ARE a slave."

I glanced up at him, clearly confused by the statement.  "Yes, Sir..."

"Did I stutter, slave?"

"No, Sir," I shook my head slightly, "But, I know...I mean, I already..."

"You already know that you are a slave?" he asked, scoffing.  He dropped the
crop, paused a long moment, and then backhanded me with such unanticipated
force that I reeled to the side, nearly losing my balance.  "You don't know
shit about who you are, boy.  You're nothing but a scared little cunt of a
man who doesn't know your ass from your nose."

My eyes widened in shock as I couldn't help but grab my throbbing cheek on
instinct.  He grabbed me by the shoulders and shoved me hard to the ground
leaving me in a sloppy, crumpled kneel at his feet.

"You think you took the harder path?  Manned up?  Did what you had to do?
Bullshit."  He glared down at me for a long moment, and then spit a giant
wad of saliva down on me.  "You took the easy way.  You were afraid of being
cut off.  Afraid of being alone.  Afraid of facing the real world on your
own two feet, so what did you do when you had the choice?  Got down on your
fucking knees."

I could feel my eyes watering as he berated me, his apparent rage stemming
out of nowhere.  "But, you said..."

"I said what?  This was a noble choice?  You were bred for it?  It was in
your blood?  Nothing to be ashamed of?"  He inserted words into my mouth.

My head nodded feebly, as my mind raced to keep up with where he was going
with his lecture.

He leaned forward and grabbed a handful of my hair, pulling my head up and
crouching down to get in my face.  "And, I meant it.  Every word.  Problem
is, boy, you made the choice here," he jammed his finger twice into the
temple of my forehead, "And now you need to make the choice, here."  He
jabbed at my chest over my heart.

He looked into my watery eyes for a long moment, and released his grasp on
my hair, allowing me to crumple back to the floor.

"You see, boy," he continued as he paced around my form.  "I know that you
are a slave, just as I have always known.  But unfortunately, you spent 18
years of your life believing that you were something else, taught in fact,
that you would become something else.  Be your own man, reach for the stars,
live the dream, and other mountains of bullshit.  And you expect me to
believe that you've suppressed all of that?  Forgotten all about it because
you've spent a few months waking up early and doing a few extra chores
around the house?"

I looked down at the floor, feeling a lump growing in my throat as his words
dug into me.

"You think this is temporary," he chided.  I could feel his eyes glaring
into me.  "A prison sentence.  Unfair maybe, but you know you'll get through
it and recoup what you think you've lost down the road.  I can see it all
over your face."

As the weight of his words came down over me, I began to shake, trying to
control my welling sobs as I knew everything he was saying had truth to it
in one way or another.  I had never really given much thought to what would
happen down the road, how long I would be a slave, and how long the rest of
my life actually was.

"But, I assure you boy, this is not temporary or a passing phase.  As a
slave, you are owned. Property. An object.  That will not change, and the
truth deep down is that you don't want it to.  It's a journey of
reckoning that you will need to take on your own until you reach a point
where your heart and mind are actually on the same page.  As your master, I
will give you the tools, but it will be up to you to use them.  Ultimately,
you will be worth much more to me as an actualized slave than just a boy in
a costume."

He took a long pause as he circle around my crumpled form, watching me
absorb and process his words without any gesture of comfort as I neared a
fetal position.  A familiar rattle of chains jostled behind me, echoing
against the bare rafters of the dungeon.

"Simply go through the motions, and you will survive, but your life will be
nothing but misery and resentment.  Understand the motions, accept that they
are want as much as they are need, and you will thrive.  Not only will you
want to be a slave, but you will understand why you are one and have no
choice but to be who you are," he continued from behind me.  "Until then, I
guess we're both stuck with this pathetic excuse for a man."  He nudged my
side with the toe of his boot.  "Now, get up on your knees where you fucking
belong."

I struggled weakly to obey, still shaking from silent sobs.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

His crop assaulted my bare skin from all angles as I pushed up to my knees.
While I continued to choke back some more audible sobs, I felt the familiar
sensation of cool metal encircle my ankles, and then my wrists as he
shackled my limbs with heavy chains from behind.

Without much of a word, he grabbed my upper arms and pulled me with
surprising ease up to my feet despite the fact that my legs wobbled like
jelly.  I tried my best to get a hold of myself as he forced me stumbling in
chains across the dungeon floor, until he released his grasp, shoving me
against a familiar leather padded workbench that clotheslined me at the
waist, nearly knocking the wind out of me.  A firm hand against my back
steadied me, and pushed me forward at the waist until I was bent over with
my torso was resting against the firm bench, my ass fully on display.

Kicking my feet apart as wide as the chains would allow, he wasted no time
with theatrics, pushing my hands up to the small of my back.  I swallowed
hard, still fighting down the lump in my throat as the sound of his belt
unbuckling and zipper going down seemed to echo in the dungeon.  A few pumps
from a bottle of lube affixed to the wall, and without any further warning,
two slippery fingers pushed into my asshole.

I gasped, wincing as he invaded me.  He wiggled his fingers for a moment,
and pulled them out.  Another few audible pumps from the bottle, and I knew
what was coming next.  Taking a deep breath, I tensed my rectum just as I
felt the tip of his cock probe at my hole.  Without even seeing it, I could
tell it was substantial in size, larger than Ryan's.

"For the record, slave, your emotional journey to actual submission is of
little consequence to me and has no effect on my ownership of you and your
body which you willingly gave to me.  It will not buy you a pass or any sort
of sympathy that you might think you're entitled to," he explained coldly,
as he pressed his cock into me with a satisfied grunt.  I groaned, exhaling
loudly as my ass spread open for him. "Tight little cunt.  At least we
know you are good for something other than licking my feet after all."

***
To be continued. Comments and Feedback are encouraged: matt10019@gmail.com