Date: Tue, 13 Jun 2006 22:57:56 -0700 (PDT)
From: Hank M <redbeardedsf (at) yahoo (dot) com>
Subject: The Fate of a Poor Man's Son, part 8

I was turned on to this universe by the writing of Pete Brown UK. Heated up
by some stories from Steam Train. These two authors directed me to the
works of Richard Davies, One Ring, Randall Austin and others. This story is
set in a near-future world in which enslavement is the norm. This story
involves erotic situations and actual sexual contact between males - as
well as humiliation, exhibition, and much of the usual stuff for this
genre. If you are not at least 18 years of age (or whatever legal age is
where you are) go away now! If you are offended by the content of this
story go away now! If you are in a jurisdiction in which it is illegal to
read or possess such fiction stories go away now (well, it would be better
if you could get the hell away from that jurisdiction). And if you are
someone who cannot distinguish fantasy from reality, please go away and get
some help.


_____________________________________________________________
By Master Redbeard (redbeardedsf at yahoo dot com)


I rose from the floor, wiping away the captain's cum from my lips. So much
was new to me. So much was frightening. But the one question that kept
repeating in my head was, Why did I have an erection? My slave briefs had
been pulled down in the back for the spanking my master had given me. But
the white fabric was bunched up in the front, still containing my cock. As
I rose from the floor I became aware that my penis was totally stiff and
tenting out the underpants. I was also aware that the fabric was virtually
transparent because of the ever-expanding wet spot or pre-cum that had
soaked through.


As I rose I became aware of the whiskey bottle. When I had entered the room
(however long ago that was, I had lost all sense of time) the bottle was
mostly full. Now the bottle was nearly empty. How was it possible for one
man to consume so much alcohol in just part of an evening?


Captain Winston stood beside his large bed. He was barefoot. His pants were
open, his penis sticking out of his fly, and his shirt was pulled open. He
looked at me as if I should understand what to do next. Then his voice
filled with impatience as he slurred, "Undress your master, boy."


Dutifully, I took off his white dress shirt and folded it as neatly as I
could. Then I peeled up his undershirt and folded that on top of his
shirt. I undid his belt and then the snap on his pants. He was already
unzipped, so I just peeled the gray slacks down his legs and then folded
them neatly with the other clothes. He had pushed his large cock back
inside his white boxer shorts, but the thin fabric couldn't hide the
outline of the half-erect organ and his thick bush. I was about to peel
down his boxers, but he put his large hand on my wrist to stop me.


"Leave it like that, little fella," his body weaved a little bit like he
was having trouble standing. "We can pretend for a moment you're not a
slave. We can pretend that it's just a man and a boy who like each other
together in their underpants. A man and a boy who like each other a whole
lot, heheheh."


What planet was the captain pretending we were on? A man and a boy who like
each other and are in underpants together? A cute teen boy with a hard
athletic body who willingly wants to be undressed for the sexual pleasure
of a fat hairy old man like Captain Winston? I tried to force a smile.


It was as if he could read my mind. He grinned broadly and put an arm
around my shoulders as he said, "You're thinking that if you weren't a
slave you would never want to take off your clothes and let me do these
things to your sweet body. Is that it, boy?" I just looked down at the
floor, not knowing how to answer his question. That's when he began
tickling my hardon through the fabric of my white briefs. He wasn't jerking
me off. He wasn't fondling me. He was using two fingertips to tickle my
erection - and my cock throbbed in response. Then he continued, "So if
you're really as straight as you say you are, Wally, how come you have this
stiffy here? It's not possible that your penis is fully erect and throbbing
because a hairy fat old guy like me is touching you? It couldn't be that
you're dripping pre-cum because you're thinking about all the things you're
going to be made to do to my thick cock, boy." He laughed louder than
ever. Then suddenly got deadly serious and snapped, "Answer me, boy?"


"A-answer, sir?"


"Tell me why you have a hard cock, boy. Your master is demanding a truthful
answer."


"I d-d-d-don't know, Master."


With that I was pushed down bent forward across the bed. My butt was
sticking up at the edge of the bed. The captain grabbed a thick cane and
smacked my ass. I yowled - it was the sound a wounded animal makes and not
a human sound. The cane struck me two more times. Then I felt the captain's
hand caressing the marks that burned into my ass cheeks.


"Your master demands an answer, boy. Why do you have an erection?"


"P-p-please, Master. I d-d-don't understand it myself. Sir, I'd answer if I
could but..."


Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Three more strikes of the cane. As I was gasping
for breath, the captain leaned down so that his beard was scratching
against my neck. He licked my neck lovingly and in the softest voice said,
"Come on, little fella. Be a good boy. If you do your best to give me an
honest answer, maybe I won't have to give you anymore strokes of the cane."


"M-maybe, sir... I'm n-not sure, Master... b-but maybe I'm stiff because
I'm feeling... I'm feeling..." I froze up. Could I finish the sentence?
Which would be worse - Completing the end of that sentence or getting more
slashes of the cane? I felt the soft wood of the cane lightly rubbing over
my bottom, reminding me of the stripes that were already throbbing on my
cheeks.


With a sob in my voice I blurted out, "Maybe my cock is stiff because I
feel so vulnerable, because I'm so scared. I feel in your power, Master!"


No sooner had the captain said, "Good boy!" than he started to cane my
bottom again. This time he left four more stripes on my ass cheeks. And
this time I just couldn't control myself. I felt my balls pull up tight
against my body and I felt my cock shoot spurt after spurt of my own hot
cream.


"Heheheh." There was the captain's skin-crawling laugh. "You were born to
be a slave, Wally. Queer bottom boys are happiest when they're slaves,
boy. And we both know what you are." He paused and then said, "Tell me,
boy. Tell me what you are."


"I'm a queer b-b-bottom boy, Master."


When I rolled from my spot on the edge of the bed I revealed the large
patch of cum I had shot during my caning. The captain snapped his fingers
and pointed to the wet spot. He didn't have to give me a verbal command. I
understood that he wanted me to lick it up.


My brain felt like it would explode. At one moment the captain spoke in a
soft voice, almost lovingly. At the next moment he was brutal, domineering
and cruel. Then there'd be a moment when he would be laughing uproariously,
followed by a moment when he became deadly serious.


My white briefs were ripped off as he lifted me and tossed me down onto the
bed on my back. My head was on a pillow. He grabbed my legs, spreading them
wide, and pressed himself down on top of me. My legs were wrapped around
his thick girth and his heavy hairy belly was pressing down on me. His
thick cock was pulled out of his boxer shorts and the helmet head was
pressing against my butthole. At that point every muscle in my body tensed
and I groaned.


The captain looked down at me with such a kindly face. He spoke softly,
"Ahhh, little one, you're frightened of master's thick hairy dick." He
planted tender little kisses all over my face and just about rubbed his
nose playfully against mine. Then his facial expression changed in an
instant. I felt the blunt head of his meat push past my sphincter and I
screamed. My scream gave way to sobs.


I felt the captain's hairy bush against my inner thighs. I felt his fat
hairy balls grind against my smooth butt cheeks. Then he pulled back and
pushed in. It was only a little at first. But soon he was pulling all the
way back and slamming all the way in. I had stopped sobbing but now I was
grunting each time he thrust forward. It felt like I was being punched in
the guts - but from the inside!


He was kissing me on the mouth, wet sloppy kisses. His mouth was open wide
and his tongue was like a dripping snake. His beard smelled stale of
booze. His rough hands grabbed and pinched and prodded and felt me up all
over. His facial expression went from merry laughter to animalistic rage.


I was convinced I was in the clutches of a mad man as he began to babble,
"This is what it should be like, boy. A man with my kind of money and power
should be able to take any cute boy like you and spread his legs for a good
hard fucking. Isn't that the way it should be, boy?"


He paused and I realized he was waiting for an answer. Between grunts I
stammered, "Y-y-yes, Master," not even sure what I was agreeing to.


"A man like me should be able to go into that rundown neighborhood of yours
and demand my employees bring out their sons and have my pick! Yeah, have
all the boys on your miserable block pull down their pants and undies and
bend over so I can pick out the cutest, roundest, tightest boy ass,
heheheheh. Then I'll just toss the boy in the trunk of my car and take him
away. That's how it should be."


"Y-yes, sir," I gasped, horrified by the scene this depraved man was
painting.


"No, to hell with tossing you in the trunk. I should be able to just bend
you over my car and shove my fat cock deep up your tight little virgin ass,
boy. Right in front of your dad and your little brother. Let all the
neighbors hear you squeal. And then everyone would know who has the power
in this town, who controls the way things run in this town."


His ranting and his fucking became more and more frenetic. Sweat was
dripping off the big hairy man as he pounded my ass. The pain in my ass was
giving way to numbness.


Slurring his words and spitting in my face, the captain went on, "To hell
with that. A man with my money and power should be able to take what he
wants whenever he wants. I should've been able to have you back when you
came here to swim with my sons. That's it, boy. I remember those blue swim
trunks you wore, you were so why and the trunks were so long but they'd
gotten tight on you, showed off what a round little ass you had and what
slim hips."


The horror ran through me. This horrible beast remembered the swim trunks I
had worn to his house so many years earlier. Damn, I was so young back
then. Is it possible he perved on me so many years earlier when I was jut a
kid?


His dick was slamming like my insides were a punching bag. Each push in was
deliberate, making me feel the full force of his strength and weight. I
thought I would pass out. I prayed I would pass out. But there was no
escape from the captain's perverse harangue and his pounding cock.


"How would you have felt, boy? How would it have felt at that age if I
brought you up here and stripped off those blue swim trunks and made you my
slave right then and there - made you into my sex slave, boy? Hot damn, I
should've done it! What would they have done to me? What could they do to
me? I have the power in this stinking little town. I own the judge. Rules
are meant for little people. I'm above all that."


Then he turned his attention back to me, gazing deep into my eyes as he
snarled, "What if I had you back at that age, boy? What if I had kissed you
with tongue and made you take my cock in your mouth and I had you pinned
down here for a fucking? Hot damn, you were young then, boy. You were wide
eyed and innocent and all smooth and so slim. What would you have felt,
Wally?"


"Scared, sir!" I blurted out. "I would have been so terrified sir. I would
have been begging you to let me go home to my family, begging you not
to..."


The captain's face contorted into a grotesque mask as he howled out, "You
would've fuckin' loved it, boy. Don't deny it, you pussy boy bottom slave!
I saw the way you shot your load just now from your master smacking your
sweet ass. I should've had that ass when I first saw it in those blue swim
trunks. Back when you wouldn't have even needed anything shaved to be a
pussy slave boy, I should've spread you open with my fat co-o-o-o-ock!" The
last word turned into an unearthly howl. He rammed into me deeper and
harder than any of the previous thrusts. I thought his cockhead was going
to pop right through my belly button. Then I felt a warmth coating my
insides. He was cumming inside me. His dick was spewing its burning hot
juice so deep in me.


Tears were pouring slowly down my face. Then I felt the captain's beard
scratching against my face. He started cooing at me, "So tender, so pretty,
so young." That awful pervert was kissing away my tears, smiling down at me
benevolently. Then he whispered, "I bet your little brother's ass is just
as sweet and even tighter, Wally."


I gasped. No, not that. Anything but that. Whatever I had to endure, the
very thought of my younger brother Will going through this same thing was
too horrible to imagine. Will, so cute, all smiles, all boy in the clutches
of the fat hairy pervert who was now my master - my whole body shuddered
and I tried to make the repulsive image go away.


Throughout this ordeal I had completely forgotten that the captain's son
had raped my ass the previous night. As rough as Brad had been, bending me
over the horse and roughly tenderizing my ass for his cock, it was nothing
compared to the range of physical and emotional abuse the captain had put
me through.


I turned my face to the side. I didn't want any more of these disgusting
kisses. I didn't know what emotion the captain might react with next. And I
knew I had no control over the head games I would endure. But the next
thing I heard was loud snoring. The lights were on. The captain was still
partially on top of me. His cock was still deep inside my hole. And he was
now asleep and snoring.


There was no way I could sleep. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine
myself somewhere pleasant. But I couldn't even envision anyplace else I
could be. I was a sex slave. I was the property of this sick and twisted
Winston family. And I would serve these awful men for the next five years.


I don't know how many hours had passed. I was turned so I couldn't see the
clock. But I suddenly felt something wet in my ass. Was it possible the
captain was cumming again? In his sleep? Then I realized what it was. I
could feel the liquid, not thick enough to be cum. I could smell it. The
captain was peeing up my ass.


How much further could I be degraded? It wouldn't be long before I would
find out.