Date: Fri, 3 Oct 2003 16:49:14 -0700 (PDT) From: Jesse <hotjesseboi@yahoo.com> Subject: Cyber Slave -- Chapter 6 Cyber Slave - Chapter 6 - Deuced Again To the reader: One of the realities of submitting to a dominant male is that once you have been restrained you are totally at his mercy. When the powerlust overwhelms the man who is controlling your body, you are helpless while he is in its clutches. I learn a costly lesson the hard way in this chapter. Again the story is told through excerpts from actual emails received and sent and daily reports submitted. * * * * * Email from the Predator, 9/29/03 I congratulate you, boy. Your two latest chapters for the Cyber Slave story on "nifty" are well constructed and well written. Your use of email quotes is brilliant and certainly makes it sound convincingly real as opposed to a rabid sex fantasy. I was particularly pleased that you quoted in full my "Heirarchy" email setting out the rights of your Trainer and Jockey so that your readers are as clear as you on who does what to whom. I am a little surprised that I have had no reaction to that email from either yourself, Rafe or Deuce though. It is time that Deuce had the use of you again - preferably in his garage rather than a quickie on the loading bay. I want him to have time to explore you more thoroughly. (Deuce, please note. I hope that you will feel inclined towards using this boy for a bit of vigorous sexual abuse sometime this week.) Daily Sex Report, 9/30/03 The next evening, Deuce calls, and tells me to meet him at gas station in a half hour. I walk over to the gas station, put on my collar and wait there for Deuce. I am just about ready to give up and return home when his panel truck pulls in, but someone else is driving. The back door opens and Deuce growls, "Get in here, whiteboy." As I am climbing in, he grabs my collar, yanks me onto the floor and kicks me in the side, pain searing into my ribs. "You worthless piece of whitetrash shit. You not around when I call." He pulls my head up by the hair and slaps me hard across the face five times. By now I am moaning, but this only makes him hit harder. "Strip, boy! Be quick about it." I quickly pull off my tank top, kick off my loafers and drop my jeans and boxers. He grabs my hands, twists them up behind my back, ties them together with cable ties, and hooks my wrists to the collar. Then he hooks a short chain from my collar to a D-ring in the floor of the truck. It is so short I have to kneel down with my head only inches from the dirty floor of the truck. He climbs back into the front, leaving me to struggle to keep my head from banging into the floor when the truck careens about corners or comes to a sudden stop at traffic signals. In spite of my best efforts, my head keeps whacking against the floor. The truck comes to a stop, the back doors open. I feel Deuce's hand unhooking the chain to the collar. Before I can get up, he yanks me out by the feet, my already tender forehead slamming against the bumper of the truck, then the floor. I lie there moaning and shaking in pain. "Willie - look at this fucking excuse for a man! He's just a cocksucking whiteboy fag." He yanks me up onto my knees, my face in front of the other man's crotch. Willie pulls opens his fly and pulls out his cock. He grabs my hair and yanks my head back, sliding his thickening cock into my mouth. Willie is thin and wiry with long dreadlocks. As his cock hardens in my mouth, Willie grabs my head and pushes his dick into my throat. I choke and gag, but he holds my head tight against his groin. When the gag reflex subsides he starts pumping my head up and down on his cock. "Suck it mofuckin white trash. Eat my dick!" Deuce grabs my collar, pulls me off Willie and feeds his own cock into my mouth. They take turns, pulling my head back and forth. When one gets close, the other pulls me off before he can shoot and jams his own cock into my mouth. Finally first Willie, then Deuce shoots into my throat. I swallow as fast as I can. Deuce keeps his dick in my mouth as it softens. Suddenly I feel liquid gushing into my throat. Shit! He is pissing into my mouth! Deuce is laughing. "Drink it slut, suck down my piss like a good little bitch." I start choking and coughing. Piss runs out my mouth and down my neck and chest. Willie grabs his cock and aims a stream of piss at my face. Deuce jumps back still pissing on me. I splutter and choke. Willie yells, "Open your mouth, mofucka." I keep it closed, but Deuce kicks me in the gut, forcing me to open my mouth to yell. Willie's aims his stream of piss right between my lips. Most of it runs down my chin and onto my body, before I double over in pain from the kick. Willie puts his foot on the back of my neck, forcing my face to the floor of the garage. Deuce laughs, picking up a hard rubber belt, "Let's have some fun with this little shit." He whips my exposed ass while Willie rubs my face into the floor with his boot on my neck. Each blow with the belt makes me jump, but Willie slams my forehead back onto the floor, connecting at the same spot hit when I was dragged out of the truck. The belt is flexible enough so Deuce can get a good flex on it before it cuts into my burning butt. My groans and cries of pain get Willie and Deuce aroused again. I feel something wet hit the back of my head and realize it is precum roping down from Willie's dick. Deuce tosses the belt aside, pulls me up over what seems to be a tall sawhorse. My torso is balanced on the narrow bar, with my head and crotch hanging over each end. They tie my ankles down to the rear legs. Then, laughing, they put electrical clips on my nips and wire them back to the rear legs of the sawhorse. "Let's try this out," says Deuce, grabbing the belt and whipping my ass again. With every blow my body moves forward and the clips pull on my nipples. Willie yanks my head up and slides his cock back into my throat. In this position he can slide it right down in. Deuce spits on my crack and shoves some of the spit up my hole with his finger. "Go for it man! Work over this whore's fuckhole." Willie yanks his cock out of my throat and walks around to my butt. Holding my hips he jams his pole all the way into my ass. It feels like a red hot poker tearing up my guts. As I shout in pain, Deuce laughs and shoves his cock deep into my throat. Each time one or the other of them thrust into me, my chest, wet with piss and sweat, slides on the bar of the sawhorse, making the wired clips pull hard on my nips. Willie pumps into me for a long time before he finally blows his load deep inside. Deuce takes over, Willie's cum making it easier for his thicker cock to slide into my tortured hole. Deuce gets up on the balls of his feet, jabbing his cock right at my prostate. After all that time playing in my throat, he shoots quickly and I orgasm at the same time. Deuce roughly yanks his cock out of my swollen hole. Laughing, he points to the pool of cum under the sawhorse. "Look at this fuckin cunt. Shoots his fuckin jizz when he gets a real man's load inside him." They unclip my nips and release my legs, pull me back off the sawhorse. His foot on my back, Willie forces my face down into the pool of cum. "Lick it up whore, lick up your fucking shit." My hands still tied behind my back, I lick up the cum, getting a foul taste of greasy dirt in my mouth. They drag me to my feet, but my legs are weak from being tied down. As I sway there, Willie jabs a hard right to my gut and a hard left to my chin, knocking me back down onto the floor. He aims several kicks at my ribs before Deuce pulls him back. "Cool it bro, this whitetrash slut hurtin enuff for now." He picks me up and throws me into the back of the truck. On the return trip, Deuce comes into the back, cuts the cable ties off my wrists and tells me to get dressed. With difficulty I pull my shirt and pants onto my aching body. The door opens and he shoves me out the back of the truck before it even comes to a halt. I pull myself up and see I am next to some dumpsters. Very carefully I get to my feet, leaning on the edge of one of the dumpsters. Sharp pains are stabbing through my forehead and my ribs hurt so much I can only take small breaths. I stagger out toward the brighter street to discover I am in the alley behind the gas station where they picked me up. Holding my ribs, I very slowly walk home, keeping in the shadow of trees because I know my face must be covered in dirt and grit. When I get home, Rafe's SUV is parked in front. Hearing me come up the steps he is at the door when I get there. "Oh my God, Jesse. Deuce?" I nod and sway forward. He catches me. Yelling over his shoulder to my grandmom, "Jesse is back, we're going out for some pizza." He carries me to his vehicle and slides me into the front seat. He's making calls on his cell phone as he drives and soon we pull up in front of the sports doctor's office. A physician assistant pulls up behind us, opens the door and helps Rafe get me inside. They take me back to a bathroom and clean me up. By that time the doctor is there. A half hour later, Rafe helps me out. My ribs and head are bandaged and several cuts are stitched up. The doctor has given him samples of drugs for pain and inflammation. Luckily by the time we get home, grandmom is already in bed. Rafe insists on writing the daily reports. Email from the Predator, 10/01/03 Wow, that was a hell of a working over that Deuce and his mate gave you last night! Just what you needed, you nigger-piss drinker. BUT I have written to Deuce, saying that I gave strict instructions he was not to damage my property and that if he has cracked or broken your ribs, or left you unable to go to work or college, he will not be allowed to use you ever again. ****** Dear reader, what is next? The master seems to approve of my treatment at the hands of Deuce and Willie. Is this really what he wanted when he asked Deuce to treat me with "selfish cruelty and brutality?" Or have Deuce and Willie overstepped the limits that he set on my use. If we were doing this live in real time, I would invite you to email in and vote whether or not the master will approve. What would you do in his place? On one hand, Deuce is a convenient instrument for him to use in my training, but on the other hand, no dominant male tolerates anything other than full and complete obedience to his orders. And one thing is certain, my master is a dominant male.