Date: Sun, 4 Apr 2010 01:08:45 -0700 (PDT)
From: JKBlackhouse <jkblackhouse@yahoo.com>
Subject: Brothers & Slaves: Chapt.: 36: A New Master

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 2009. All rights 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, footballer;
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 slave training facility.
James: head slave of the family household.
Ron, 18, classmate and formerly Master of Ken


Brother & Slaves:
Chapt. 34: A Really Bad Night
Danny

I also found that I liked being of service (to halfway decent people), I
liked submitting to the pleasure of each temporary owner and being made to
do what was demanded of me. I even accepted that I should be punished,
sometimes harshly, when I was disobedient, disrespectful, or performed
inadequately in any way. I wished to be a good slave, an obedient slave, a
respectful slave, and I disappointed myself whenever I was less than
that. Despite having been rented out numerous times, I was completely
unprepared for what Mr. Howard next had in store for me.

Chapt. 35: A New Master
Danny

It was about a month after Ken and Ron had been sent to Ron's home. Of
course I had no idea what was happening there to Ron. If I had, I'm not
sure if I would have felt sorry or happy for him. I knew he was still eager
to experience life as a slave, but on the other hand, I doubt he wanted
that to happen at home. Oh well, I didn't know, I just missed being with
Ron and Ken, but I was a slave so I had become used to things happening
over which I had no control, like Ron and Ken being shipped out.

I was led on a leash to Mr. Howard's office. He was seated behind his
desk. I wasn't entirely sure if I was to kiss his boots like if he'd been
standing there or just assume the slave present position immediately. Since
I liked humbling myself before Mr. Howard, I went for his boots, knelt
before him, and carefully kissed each boot reverently. Then I crawled on
all fours before his desk, assumed the position and waited.

Mr. Howard said he had news for me. He said I was to be shipped out but he
said nothing about where I would be going. Of course, I thanked him since I
knew there was no reason for a slave to know what will next be done to, or
with, him.

"You have done well, boy," Mr. Howard said, "and while by no means fully
trained, you are far enough along to provide service as a real slave. I
count on you to do me proud, to demonstrate to your new Master that you
understand obedience and servitude, that you know to unquestioningly do
what you are told to do, and will act accordingly. We will probably meet
again, 415, but that is speculation. I wish you good luck and good
service. Obedience, 415, obedience."

"Permission to speak please, Master." Mr. Howard nodded his
permission. "Master, this slave thanks you from the bottom of its heart for
the training you have given it; it will make every effort to make you proud
of it and it will submit itself fully to its new Master, whoever that may
be, Master. Thank you Master. This slave hopes we will again meet, Master,
it will miss you, Master."

Each of us, in our role respective ways having said our goodbyes, I was led
by my leash from the office and into the gate area. There I saw waiting a
slave transport delivery van. I was already naked and locked in my see
through chastity pouch. Of course I wore the buttplug that any slave would
have up its ass. My genitals were banded thanks to my brothers and there
were now also rings through my ball sac, my perineum and worst, my nose. I
had restraint bands about my ankles and wrists and a matching wide
collar. I guess I looked much like any slave would. "Slave" had been
tattooed across my smooth pubes and the slave "S" on my chest and ass. My
body was hairless except for my eyebrows, eyelids and the slave hawk on my
head.

The slave leading me inserted a wide cock gag in my mouth and locked the
strap behind my head. He then placed a heavy leather hood on me, no eyes,
just pinholes for breathing for my nostrils and no mouth. It forced the gag
far back into my mouth. The hood zipped up on the back of my head and the
zipper was locked to a post on the hoods collar. I was guided into the van
and told to lie on the metal floor in a spread-eagle position. My wrists
and ankles were then clipped to ring bolts in the floor of the van,
restraining me spread-eagled, and the back of the hood was also clipped to
a ring bolt. A wide leather strap was was stretched tightly across my
chest, another across my abdomen, another across my forehead, and one each
across my thighs and upper arms. Thongs were even laced through my nipple
rings and these too were clipped to my right and left. I certainly hoped
there wouldn't be any violent jarring during the ride; I supposed my tit
rings could
 be pulled right out of my nipples if there was too much lurching. Scary
thought.

Even my chastity pouch was tied down very tightly to a ring bolt between my
spread legs. And worse, they had shoved a tube up my cock to keep my piss
drained and the other end of the tube, of course, went through the a hole
in the front of the hood, though a passage in the gag and into my
mouth. I'd be drinking my own piss as long as I was tied down. Not much
chance I was going to leave the van without permission, that was for sure.

The hood had pads over my ears but I could still hear the sound of the van
doors being slammed shut. I heard the motor start up and I felt the van
moving. Where was I being taken and for what purpose? Who would be my
Master and how would he use me? I had little to do but think and worry
about such questions.

The ride seemed endless and I felt every bump in the road right in my ass
as the buttplug rode in and then a little out, and in my nipples as the
thongs tying them to the bed of the van tugged on my tit rings which might
have caused me to scream except I was gagged and couldn't. There was the
steady drip of piss into my mouth by way of the catheter. I hated it, the
taste, the lack of control I had over it.

The trip went on and on. I could tell most of the time we were on a highway
by sensing the speed the van was going. At long last the thing came to a
stop. Had we arrived or were the crew just taking a pit stop? I thought I
could hear voices but it was damned hard to tell.

The doors opened, I could feel the cool air. I was released from all the
straps and thongs tying me to the van bed, and pulled out of the van until
it seemed like I could stand. Of course I didn't. I slipped immediately to
my knees, knowing that was where a slave belonged. Thanks be, the catheter
was withdrawn from my mouth and left hanging out of the chastity pouch. I
thought it had been clamped off but I couldn't be sure. My new Master had
certainly arranged for me to arrive as a humiliated package with no idea
where I was.

I was pulled wordlessly to my feet and led across a door threshold and into
a cool space. There I was placed on my knees and my wrists were moved so my
hands could be locked to my collar and hood behind my head. Slave present
position so I straightened my back and and bowed my head. I was exhausted
by the rigor of the trip and the harshness of how I'd been moved like a
thing of no consequence, certainly not in a humane or human way. I guess at
this point, slave meant slave, nothing more. Never had I felt so entrapped
in this role I had chosen to experiment with but had now seemed to become
all too real.

A narrow tube was inserted where the catheter had entered my hood and then
my mouth and I was told to drink. It was water, heavenly water. I sucked on
the tube, drawing in the blessed water until I had my fill. Then I put my
tongue over the tube opening and shook my head, trying to communicate I was
done. The tube was withdrawn only to have the catheter replace it. I would
now again be drinking my piss. I was pulled further into the room or space
where I was by a leash that had been clipped to my collar. I was told to
lie down and I was left spread-eagled by clips attaching my limbs and hood
to the floor -- a wooden floor it seemed.

I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I remember, I was being
kicked like a sack of potatoes. "Up, up boy," someone said. I rose to my
knees not knowing how far up they wished me to be. "Stand," the voice said,
so I stood, carefully again placing my wrists behind my head and again
feeling completely helpless and at the mercy of the man or men handling
me. The catheter was once again removed from my mouth but this time also
from my cock. The feeling in my dick of it being withdrawn was just weird.

I was led on a leash through what felt like further into wherever I
was. Soon I felt soft carpeting or rugs underneath my bare feet. I just
wanted it all to be over with. Learn who my new Master was and be done with
it. Begin serving him as I'd been taught to do. Had I ever been here
before? There was just the slightest sense of familiarity, if not
familiarity then at least a place I'd perhaps been before. Was it just my
exhausted imagination? Or not?

I felt myself being led through a doorway and I heard a voice saying that I
should be let down to assume the slave present position. By now, the hood
was moist with sweat and I yearned to be free of the clinging leather. Lets
just get on with it, I again thought. As ordered, I assumed the slave
present position, hands behind my head showing off my hairless pits and
pierced tits, back straight, head bowed.

I heard a voice say, "Take off his hood and gag." Such glorious words. I
felt the hood being unlocked, the zipper in back released and unzipped, the
thing pulled off my head and the gag out of my mouth. Once my eyes adjusted
to the light, I was appalled by what I saw before me. It was my own
father. I was in my house. Surely he did not want to be my Master, I
thought.

He spoke. "Well slave 415, surprise. I bet you didn't expect this, did
you?"

Taking that as permission to speak, I said, "Dad, I'm so glad to be home
again, Dad. This is so wonderful. Home at last. Thank you, Dad, thank you."
I relaxed from my slave position.

"Not so fast slave. You do not call me anything but Master. You are not
here as a son I once had. You are here as a slave. Do you understand,
asshole?"

What can I say? I was shocked again. First to find myself home, and now to
find I was here as a slave and not a family member. How bizarre, I
thought. How awful.

"Lets have a look at those rings. Yes, slave tit rings, genital band and
ball band - oh, and a ball stretcher and separator, very good. I'd
forgotten those. Rings in the earlobes, cock, snout ring, looks like a ring
through your sac and no doubt a guiche ring."

"Yes, Master," I answered, overcome with shame at his looking at my naked,
ringed, hairless body, looking at my cock and balls trapped in the
see-through chastity pouch. It was just utter and complete humiliation. I
began to tear up.

"Forget the tears, 415. They won't change anything. You're here to be a
slave, and a slave is what you will be." I resumed the slave present
position. It seemed the appropriate thing to do given what he'd said.

"Alright, James, bring in the other one."

To my utter astonishment, I watched as Ken, now 809, crawled into the room,
as naked and ringed as I, to take his place beside me, presenting on his
knees also as a slave.

"Well slaveboys" said Dad, Master, "I've brought you both back as
slaves. You will be known by your slave names, 415 and 809. You will be
considered the lowest ranking slaves in the house. You will always be
naked. If outside, you will be naked. Soon the chastity pouches will be
removed and your slave dicks will be locked to those enticing rings I see
through the bottom of your ball sacs. Your cocks will be naked, and open to
the air and to anyone who wishes to make use of them, but they will be
locked under your balls so you cannot get hard, cannot cum, unless someone
with a key unlocks you and allows you to cum.

"There are 2 keys to each of your chastity pouches, as there will be to
your cock locks. I'll keep one key. Gary will have the other." Yes Gary,
who had long since been relieved of his punishment and accepted back into
the role of free family member, with all his rights and freedoms restored.

"I am your Master. My wife is your Mistress, but your day to day Master
will be Gary. You will address him as Master. If there is one thing he
knows, it's how to dominate and control. You will obey his every lawful
order. He is your Master and you will do as he says. Any back talk, any
failure to obey, and you will be harshly punished. I want only obedient
slaves in this house.

"Now, 415, I have had you legally enslaved for the period of one year from
today. One year. But by agreement with the court, I can add another year
and do so yearly until you have served a maximum of five years. Disobey,
and you can be sure I will renew your year of slavery for a second year,
and so on. And you, 809, you still have another year to serve on your well
justified sentence. I can also extend your slave status for up to a total
of five years, so beware, both of you. You will not want to displease
me. There will be consequences should you do so. Failure to obey Master
Gary, or James, or any slave since all are senior to you scum, and I will
be very displeased.

"415, you wanted to experience slavery, now you will. You are nothing. You
are a thing. And 809, you earned your slave status by your reckless and
irresponsible behavior.

"I am now giving you each one key to your chastity pouches. You will bring
them to Gary, and you will beg him to take the keys and control your cocks
and your cum. You will beg him to. Of course, he will accept, and from
there on, you only cum when you have pleased him to the extent that he
wants you to cum. It's what he wants not what you slaves may want. Who
cares? Now get out of my sight and get upstairs and greet Gary, your
Master, properly. Go."

We each answered "Yes, Master, thank you, Master," indicating we understood
our new status in the house. The thought of sadistic Gary, my younger
brother. as my Master chilled me. And the thought of all the house slaves,
and Tim, seeing me in this new lowly status, seeing me naked at all times,
was more humiliating than I can possibly convey.

We went up the stairs to what used to be our shared bedroom without
speaking to eachother. Not only were we in shock, but we did not have
permission to speak. Slave rule. We were about to meet our new Master,
formerly our brother. Complete degradation.

When we got to the threshold of the room, I knocked and begged permission
to enter. We were told to come in and we did. We walked over to where Gary
was sitting, undressed except for his tight boxer briefs. We sank to our
knees. In one of the hardest things I have ever done, and I know Ken felt
the same, first I and then Ken kissed each of Gary's bare feet and in turn
said, "Master, how may this slave serve you? Master, this slave begs you to
take this key to its chastity pouch so you will completely control its
cock, its ability to get hard and its ability to cum. Please Master." I was
practically in tears at submitting myself in this way. Gary took the keys
and smirked at us.

All Gary said at first was, "Welcome slaveboys, isn't it nice to be all
together again? What fun it will be having you serve me." Fun for him,
maybe, but not for us. What ideas were churning in that sadistic brain of
his? His two older brothers, his slaves.


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

Many thanks for the continuing stream of emails. 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 sending so many interesting ideas and
scenarios - I've used some and I am keeping others in mind. Please keep
them coming.