Date: Sun, 4 Oct 2009 00:16:43 -0700 (PDT)
From: JKBlackhouse <jkblackhouse@yahoo.com>
Subject: Brothers & Slaves: Chapt. 10: Learning

This is a work of fiction. The characters are invented. It is intended
solely for the fantasy entertainment of persons, age 18 or older, who want
to read about gay sex and male slavery. If you are not at least 18 years
old and/or this is not what you want, read no further.

Copyright reserved by the author.
JKBlackhouse


Brothers & Slaves:
Characters so far:

Danny 17, currently the narrator, high school junior, on soccer & track teams;
Ken 18,  Danny's older brother, athletic body, high school senior, plays
football, baseball & wrestles; 
Gary 15, Danny's younger brother, young stud, high school freshman;
Tuck 17, boyhood best friend of Danny and Don, soccer & track;
Don 17, boyhood best friend of Danny and Tuck, backup quarterback.
Joey, 16, teammate of Danny and leader of team's turning him into their
shaved cocksucker; 
Tim, 17, personal house slave of Ken, Danny and Gary.
Mr. Howard, owner, a private slave training facility

Chapt's 1-8: Danny has been made a "slave" in practice though not in law by
his older and younger brothers, with the help of Danny's teammates. His
pubes, genitals, crack, arms and legs have been shaved and he is forced to
give his brothers blowjobs on command and to accept their fucking him. He
is required by them to be naked in the large bedroom/study room the three
share along with their personal slave Tim. Danny cannot escape his new
found slavery because his brothers have pictures and videos of him
performing all sorts of humiliating and sexual acts as if he were doing so
from his own desire. If he does not obey his brothers, they have threatened
to put the pics and recordings on the worldnet along with his real
name. For Danny, that would mean complete disgrace and humiliation before
his friends and parents. Danny's brothers have had his nipples ringed, a
genital band, just like real slaves must wear, installed permanently along
with a permanent titanium ball band, stretcher and separator. The boys'
parents are completely unaware of what has been happening among the boys.

Chapt. 9: Four One Five

We entered a room with all sorts of gear in it and I thought I could see a
tiled bathroom or shower off to one side. Mr. Howard directed Tim to take
me there, clean me out and scrub me down. He gave Tim a mean looking
bristle brush for the scrubbing. Now I would find out just what it was like
to live for a couple of days as nothing but a common slave. No rights, no
privileges, just obedience.

Tim grabbed my lead in one hand and the brush in the other and led me off
to the tiled room as I crawled behind him. Life as a slave was beginning. I
think I was in way over my head.

Brothers & Slaves:
Chapt. 10: Learning - Danny

Tim kept the chain leash that was clipped to my collar real taut as he led
me to the tiled room. Once there, he left me on all fours while he pulled a
nozzle and hose from one wall. Not by chance, it was located at just about
ass height if a person, well, a slave, was on its hands and knees as I
was. Tim had been carrying a gag, which I hadn't noticed until now. I
noticed it suddenly, as I was told to open wide and felt the latex cock,
quite wide, slide into my mouth. Tim buckled and locked the strap behind my
head. Here I was, a free guy, on a leash, naked, collared and gagged under
the charge of a slave. Life had sure turned upside down.

Tim used his finger to lube up my ass pretty well. It was no surprise when
he lubed the end of the nozzle and then inserted it gently, thank goodness,
in my asshole and up into my rectum. He turned a tap and I felt the warmish
water flowing into my ass. At first it felt great having my ass full but
soon I was getting too full and the water went up higher and higher. My
stomach began to cramp. I put my head down toward the floor and moaned,
trying to communicate to Tim that I'd had enough. It had no effect. The
water kept filling me until Tim of his own volition decided to turn off the
tap. He said I must hold the water for least five minutes. I groaned. There
was no clock I could see so how would he know when five minutes was up? I
guess it would be up when he decided it was.

I wanted to lie on the tiled floor and pull up my legs like a fetus. I
thought that might relieve some of the pressure in my gut. I started to
kneel further down and turn on my side when I felt Tim yank on my
leash. "What the fuck are you doing 415? No one said you could move." I
moaned and resumed my place on hands and knees, knees that were growing to
really hurt by the way. At last Tim said time was up. He position me at the
central drain opening, there was no grate, and he said to squat over the
hole. Then in one of the most humiliating steps so far, he just yanked the
nozzle out suddenly and quickly from my ass and out came my accumulated
shit and slime which I tried to ensure went right into the drain. Some
spurted on my ankles and wrists which was pretty disgusting.

Once it seemed all the water was out, Tim hosed me off, especially my legs,
feet and hands that I'd shat on. I was whimpering by that point. Tim
ignored that and simply repeated the entire procedure three more times,
ensuring the last evacuation was clear water, meaning that I was acceptably
cleaned out I guess. I was next led under one of the shower nozzles. The
water was cold, not at all warm, water for slave showers I supposed. Tim
released my leash, telling me to freeze my position. Then he rubbed some
harsh feeling disinfectant smelling soap on my back, legs and arms. Then
came the awful bristle brush.

The brush was just as harsh on my skin as it looked. Tim spared nothing as
far as I could tell to ensure that every area of my body then exposed was
scrubbed hard with the brush, hard enough to leave it red and burning. He
told me to lie down on my back and spread my arms and legs like I was
spread-eagled. Once I was positioned, he used the same coarse soap and
bristle brush on my sensitive front, my chest, armpits (he really scrubbed
those hard and did they ever burn), stomach, legs and arms. Then, much more
gently, he soaped and scrubbed my nipple areas and my dick and balls. It
hurt but it felt so good having something, even a bristle brush, stoke my
dick that I moaned in a combination of pleasure and pain. Same with my
bound balls.

Once all this was done, I was put back on my hands and knees. No toweling
off, just left to drip dry. A few minutes later, Tim led me by my leash
back outdoors. The sun felt so good on my cold body. Mr. Howard was sitting
on the porch, a cool drink in hand, when we arrived. Tim dropped my leash
and assumed the slave present position on his knees. I followed by doing
the same. No one had said what I was supposed to do, so this seemed to me
to be respectful toward my weekend Master. He seemed to glare at us for
some minutes.

"You boy, 415, did anyone tell you to get off your hands and knees?" I got
ready to tell Master "no" when I realized I couldn't say a thing. The cock
was still gagging my mouth. So I shook my head from side to side trying to
convey that I realized no one had told me to change positions. "Back to
your proper position, animal," Mr. Howard said. I hung my head and got back
on my knees, now quite raw, and my hands.

"You, boy, Tim, were you not in charge and did you not allow this to
happen?" What could poor Tim say?

"Master, yes Master, this slave was negligent in its duties, Master." His
head was way bowed.

"Don't let it happen again, boy. Ten strokes."

"Master, yes, Master, thank you, Master for correcting this slave's
negligence, Master."

Mr. Howard picked up a bell from the table he was sitting near, rang it,
and a slave immediately appeared on the porch, kneeling in slave present
position. "Charlie, get the flogger immediately."

"Master, yes Master," said Charlie and he scurried off, returning in
seconds with a mean looking multi-stranded and braided flogger.

"You boy," Master said, pointing the whip head at Tim. "Go over to that
tree, plant your nose, tits and cock on the trunk and assume a
spread-eagled position. Tim semi-crawled, semi-walked over to the tree and
positioned himself as ordered. Then nothing happened except Mr. Howard
continued enjoying his drink. I could have used some of that nice cool
drink myself but, no surprise, I wasn't offered any. He must have left Tim
standing there contemplating what was to come for a good 10
minutes. Sadistic bastard, I thought, a thought I kept strictly to myself
needless to say.

At last he grasped the flogger, walked to Tim and with no warning whatever,
swung it with what seemed all his might so the flogger crossed the right
side of Tim's back. "One, Master, thank you, Master" Tim shouted. The
second stroke, equally hard, struck Tim's left back and ass. He screamed
but immediately shouted, "Two, Master, thank you, Master." The next two
strokes criss-crossed the first ones and must have stung like hell. After
each, Tim counted off and expressed his thanks though by the fourth stroke
he was crying.

The remaining strokes were administered to his buttocks, his thighs and
then his back again. By the tenth stroke, Tim was screaming and screaming,
even as he thanked Master for the last stroke. "Master, this slaves begs
your pardon and thanks you for correcting its misbehavior, Master."

With that, Master allowed Tim to relax from the spread-eagle he'd
maintained with no ropes or chains binding him, just Master's order to hold
the position had been sufficient, even through all the pain. Tim crawled
over to the porch where he kissed Master's boots and then resumed the slave
present position. From the corner of my eye i could see how raw his back
and ass were. I had learned something: a slave does exactly what it's told
to do, nothing more and nothing less and without deviation in any way from
the orders it's been given. It was a good lesson to learn right at the
start. At home, things were nowhere this strict so I had no idea just what
was expected of me, now I did.

"Tim, why is 415's hole unplugged?"

"Master, this slave was not told to plug the slave's ass, Master."

"Quite right, Tim, good answer. Here is a nice sized plug to start the
slave on. Grease it and shove it home, and I do mean shove." I shuddered
knowing what was coming. The black plug was larger than anything I'd ever
had up my ass and I was scared shitless - but of course I had no more shit
in me anyway. Tim walked to the porch and took the plug Mr. Howard handed
him. A can of grease was located at the end side of the porch, on the
ground. I could kind of see Tim scoop up some of the goop in his hands and
rub it all over the plug. With this done, he walked over to where I was
waiting on my hands and knees.

I felt his fingers invading my hole and spreading some of the grease inside
me. I'd heard the order so I knew this would be no slow easy plug fuck,
this was meant to hurt and it was going to. With one hand, I felt him pull
one of my cheeks to the side. I felt the tip of the plug right at the
entrance of my ass and then I felt ripped apart completely as Tim shoved
the fucking monster up my relatively virgin ass. I screamed and screamed
from the pain. I balled real tears. I felt Master's house slave unbuckle my
gag. From somewhere within me, I don't know from where, even as every
portion of my body was rebelling in agony, I shouted out, "Master, thank
you, Master." I'd remembered that a slave thanks its Master for anything
its given and I had just been "given" a buttplug. For this, I knew I must
thank Master and so I did.

"Very good, 415, I wondered if you'd remember your slave manners. Good
boy."

"Master, thank you, Master," I replied and kept my head bowed as I tried to
master the pain in my expanded ass.

"Come here, boy," Master commanded. I crawled to his feet and kissed them
as I'd seen Tim do. I heard the sound of a zipper and then a hairy cock and
balls appeared before my face. "Lick, slave." I immediately stuck out my
tongue and began licking his balls, even though they were so hairy and
disgusting and then his dick.

"Open your mouth, slave." I did as commanded. I felt master's cock sliding
into my mouth. For a minute or more, it seemed, it just lay on my tongue,
quite soft. Then I felt the flow of piss drowning me. I started swallowing
as fast as I could while trying to keep myself from retching. The piss
flowed and flowed. I wondered if Master had been holding it all morning
just for me to drink. With the plug fucking my ass every time I moved and
the humiliation of what was happening enveloping my brain, my boy dick
began to rise. Hard to believe, but I was getting a hard-on from the way
Master was using me. I felt the base of my dick strain against the genital
band and my balls squeeze and attempt to pull up to my cock. The pain this
caused, and the flash realization that my dick and balls were locked for
life in metal just turned me on more. I wondered if Master had slipped some
mind altering drug into me. Whatever, I was in a pasture of mixed hog
heaven
 and hell. It seemed the most intense experience of my life.

Fortunately, I remembered not to release Master's cock until I was told to
pull my mouth off it. "Master, thank you for allowing this slave the gift
of worshipping your cock and balls, Master." Never before had I felt as I
did at that moment. It's hard to describe but I felt used, like a used
slave, completely slave, nothing else for that moment but slave. God it
felt good but it also made me feel disgusted with myself.

Then reality kicked in. My ass was straining to hold the wide plug now
lodged there and I needed to piss in the worst way. How does a slave get
permission to piss when it's not allowed to speak? I did the best I could
think of: "Master, this slave begs permission to ask Master a question, if
it pleases, Master." I thought that was pretty diplomatic and slavey.

Master did not seem put off. "Alright, 415, what do you want to ask?"

"Master, this slaves begs Master's permission to be allowed to piss, please
Master."

"That's it, slave, just that?"

"Master, yes Master, if you please, Master."

"I'm very impressed with how quickly you seemed to have learned the proper
way a slave speaks to its Master. Very well, slave, you may piss."

"Master, thank you, Master." But where was I supposed to do my pissing? I
was stuck.

"You didn't waste my time asking without meaning to piss, did you?"

"Master, no Master. Right here Master?"

"Now boy, that's a second question and this one you did not request
permission to ask. That will be ten strokes. "

I knew the proper answer from having listened to Tim. "Master, thank you,
Master." I realized I was going to have to piss right there like a dog,
right in front of Master and, for that matter, Tim and the house slave.

I tried to think of water, water falls, showers, running water, anything to
get my piss going. At long last there was a trickle of piss from my dick
and then a sudden flood down around my knees, soaking my legs and making a
mess in the dirt where I was planted. Oh god, I thought, what will be the
punishment for this?


Copyright 2009 JKBlackhouse. This work may not be reproduced, except for
personal use, without permission of the author. Reproduction for any other
use is prohibited.

Comments, story ideas, criticisms and suggestions are most welcome. Please
let me know what you think of the story. Feedback really helps keep me
writing. Thanks to those who have written - and thanks for the many good
ideas, some of which are now in the story or will be.  email:
jkblackhouse@yahoo.com