Date: Tue, 7 Oct 2008 15:46:12 -0500
From: Christian Gartrip <christianxgartrip@gmail.com>
Subject: Story Submission: Master Paulus - Part 9 (Authoritarian AND Interracial - Gay)

Master Paulus - Part 9
The Devil Has Green Eyes

By: Christian Xavier Gartrip

(christianxgartrip@gmail.com)


"Now git back inside.  We got some decisions to make."

These were the words of Rev, simple, but pregnant with unlimited
possibilities.  And what was I to make of the word 'we'?  I knew what he
meant, but I was still bound to the idea that this was, ultimately, my
decision to make, not 'ours.'  I was willing to entertain the loss of
freedom, but if so, I needed to be the one to give it up.  After all, it
was my freedom that was on the line.  Rev could sell me, but not until I
made the choice to step in front of the auctioneer.

"Crawl into the kitchen and sit on the floor.  I'll be back in a minute.
We need to discuss your future."

This was the first time I'd seen any part of Rev's house other than the
chamber and the back lawn.  I'd known that it was isolated and on Lake
Norman.  I also recognized that Rev had purchased an older property that
he'd been expanding.  "The chamber" was really nothing more than an
unfinished edition that Rev was using to keep his slaves from escaping.
He'd even boarded up the windows.

I was, however, surprised to see how modern Rev's kitchen was.  It looked
as if it had just been renovated: hardwood floors, stainless steel
appliances, granite counters, walnut paneling, and black painted cabinetry
and furniture.  It looked like something one might see in a gentleman's NY
high-rise, not a black Master's rural lake house.  I was impressed.

I sat in the middle of the floor.  My ass was still moist from having just
been cleaned and then fucked, and my hair was dripping as well.  I didn't
want to damage anything, so I did my best to stay still.  I assume that Rev
had gone to the bathroom to wipe the remains of my ass off of his cock.  He
returned about ten minutes later.

Rev entered in yet another outfit I'd not seen before.  He was wearing a
pair of black leather chaps with a line of large metal rivets running up
the outer seam of each leg.  These chaps were not held up with a belt, but
with a pair of thin black leather suspenders stretched tightly over his
shoulders and crisscrossing over both sides of his naked torso.  Aside from
his now trademark boots, the only other piece of clothing Rev wore was a
black leather jockstrap, made distinctive by a zipper on its pouch.  Rev's
ass, gut, and chest were fully exposed, as they should be.  He had adorned
his right bicep with a black and silver strap and his left wrist with a
four-inch wide leather cuff, also studded.

He looked amazingly masculine and sexual for a man of 60.  I was
disappointed to see that he'd covered his cock with the leather pouch.
However, Rev is a man whose cock is as long hard as it is soft.  It
thickens, but it doesn't lengthen, nor does it need to.  So the bulge
coming from his crotch was still mouth-wateringly healthy.  He'd just
fucked me on the back lawn not 15 minutes earlier, and just seeing him
standing over me had me ready to bend over a second time.

He picked up a set of cuffs from the counter and secured my wrists behind
me.  Rev then pulled a heavy chair from the table, sat in it with his legs
spread wide, lit a cigarette and looked at the naked man sitting on his new
floor.

"Looks like I have a buyer.  He's gonna be here later this evening.  He's
flying down, renting a van, and will drive you back tomorrow morning.
You'll leave from here.  Once I get my money, I'll see to it that your
stuff is taken care of.  Your still gonna have to let that college know you
ain't coming back.  The buyer I lined up knows that part too, but he wants
it all taken care of before he leaves with you.  I guess he don't want no
cops snoopin' around because some do-gooder reported you missin'.  So you
figure out who you're gonna be able to get a hold of on a Sunday.  You'll
call from here.  Then we can all get on with things.  I'm headin' out for
Nassau for some rest Monday mornin'.  It'll be good to have all this done
before hand."

"No."  These terms were not acceptable.  I had not agreed, and I needed him
to know that.  Unfortunately, Rev didn't respond.  It was as if I'd never
opened my mouth.

Rev stood up and walked out to the hallway that leads to the chamber.  A
second or two later he walked back in with a ball gag.

"I said, no.  You can't just se...."

Rev forced the rubber ball into my mouth and wrapped the strap around my
head and fastened it as tightly as he could.  I tried to move my head and
spit out the gag just to be able to finish my sentence, but he was too
quick.  As soon as he'd finished with the buckle he let me know that he
didn't appreciate my lip by giving the inside of my thighs five or six
rough slaps with his palm.  He grabbed my chin and aimed my face at his.

"Don't fuck with me.  I'm doing you a favor.  And don't think I won't hand
you over to him with a mess of brand new bloody scabs on your ass.  You got
that, boy?  Huh?"

I nodded.

"Now git up."  Rev locked his hand under my naked armpit and lifted me off
of his floor.

I walked to the chamber like a condemned child.  At this point (total
honesty here) I was starting to cry.  We needed to discuss this, but the
decision had already been made.  I'd been sold, my property all but gone,
and Rev had even gagged me just to keep me from arguing with him about it.
I wasn't a slave, I was a very bad 10 year old being put up for adoption
because I hadn't lived up to parental expectations, and it wasn't fair.

Rev tossed me into my cell.  I collapsed on the mattress, pissed myself
because I didn't care anymore, and fell asleep on a bed soaked in my own
urine.  Psychologically speaking, that moment may have been my lowest point
ever.  Rev didn't even remove my gag or my cuffs.  I had no blanket to
place against my skin.  He had even turned off the one source of light, a
single bulb that hung above my head.  It was dark, and I felt as if I would
die.

I was awakened with a kick to my foot by Rev, still dressed as he'd been
earlier, but holding my regular plate of food.  I was hungry, and for a
moment I'd forgotten about the earlier events and could think only of
dinner.  Of course, as soon as I realized that I was still gagged,
everything became clear again.  I also noticed that Rev was carrying a thin
piece of bamboo.  I understood.  I would eat and say nothing.  If I
deviated at all from his plan, I'd be whipped with the stalk, and marked
severely.

I indicated that I was on board.  Rev let me eat, gagged me again, and then
moved me to the center of the chamber.  He suspended my hands above my head
then left the room, turning out the lights as he closed the chamber door
behind him.  I still had no idea what time it was.

At some point later, an hour or maybe two, I heard voices, mostly laughter,
on the other side of door.  There was a pause, and then the door opened.  I
saw two figures in the doorway.  One of them, Rev, never entered the
chamber.  He reached in and flipped on one of the room's three rows of
overhead lights and then disappeared.  And there he was: a stranger, just
standing in the dim light of the doorway at the far end of the chamber.

Coming towards me, like the Angel of Death, was a dark V-shaped figure.
The room was silent except for the steady clicking of his shoes on the
concrete floor.  He'd closed the door behind him, so we were alone.  He
stopped about three feet from me and stared into my eyes.

"Chris.  I'm Cole... You belong to me now.  Before we move on outta here,
we're going to spend some time getting to know each other.  Is that good
for you, boy? "  He spoke very methodically and with a low but firm voice.
He was calm, controlled, comfortable, but also serious and direct.

Cole stood in front of me in a well-tailored navy suit patterned with a
light blue windowpane plaid.  His shirt was white, starched, and free of
wrinkles.  Around his thick neck hung a dark paisley tie, tightly knotted.
His shoes were black leather brogues and were so brightly polished that the
light from the ceiling reflected off of their tips and into my eyes.

Cole's head was large and round, shaved clean.  The only hair I saw was his
heavy white goatee.  It hung about three inches below his chin.  The hairs
were combed and twisted into a sharp point that fell just above the knot of
his tie.  His eyes were not black or brown, but pale emerald green, which
was odd for a black man, but very mesmerizing when viewed.  His eyes were
wide, but narrow and piercing as he looked down at me.  He had a heavy nose
and a large mouth and a big friendly smile.

Cole was a dark-skinned black man, but not as dark as Rev or Master Paulus.
He had a bit of cream in coffee, not a lot, but some.  His skin was smooth
and free of blemishes.  The only wrinkles I could see were around his
unusual eyes.

As Cole stood in front of me examining his latest purchase, I tried to come
to terms with his size.  I had to look up to see his face, meaning that he
was at least 6-foot and a couple of inches.  His shoulders were broad, his
hips narrow, but he sported a heavy gut that he kept covered with his
double-breasted jacket.  He appeared to be a man who was at one time slim
and athletic, but who had gained a few pounds in his face and stomach as
he'd aged.  He was powerful.  I could feel a bit of blood flowing into my
cock and it embarrassed me.

Cole's fingers found my partially inflated organ and gently stroked its
tip.  I looked down and watched his two longest fingers rub across the piss
slit and then slowly down the top of the shaft to my rubber cock ring.
From there he cupped my ball sac into his palm, folded his fingers around
it and slowly squeezed.  I felt a shudder of pain through my groin, but my
cock continued to grow.

My new Master released my testicles and unzipped his trousers.  Slowly, as
he watched my face, I heard the zipper lower.  He bent his knees slightly
and reached in to retrieve his meat.  I looked down to see what would soon
be pushed into my mouth and forced into my ass.

"NO!"  Cole gripped my chin and pulled my face up and close to his.  "You
don't look at your Master's cock until I say so.  Do you understand me,
boy?"

This scared me, but I nodded that I understood.

As I stared into my new Master's cocoa colored face and mysterious green
eyes, I felt his warm piss suddenly splashing against my firm, hard cock.
The tangy odor drifted upward into my nose.  Instinctively, I breathed in.
Cole closed his eyes, relaxed, and exhaled as if he'd been holding a full
bladder for some time.  As he emptied himself, he moved his cock back and
forth, slowly, above the base of my erection to make certain that every
inch was fully covered.  His piss dripped down my legs, the inside of my
thighs, and the length of my dick.

When he finished pissing on me, he tucked away his cock and zipped his
trousers, all with one hand.  His right hand was still gripped firmly on my
chin to keep it focused on his powerful expression.

"In my house, a slave doesn't look at the Master's cock unless it's being
put into his mouth.  When you look at me, you look at me... not my big old
dick.  You'd do well to learn that lesson right up front.  I don't want to
waste a lot of time whipping your nasty ass over something like that.  I've
got better things to do with my time.  You got that, boy?  Do you
understand what I'm saying to you?  Do you?"

Again, I nodded, never letting my eyes drift away from his.

"Good."

Master Cole took off his jacket and carefully folded it as if it were the
ancient garment of a king.  A naturally pretentious old fuck, I thought.
He looked around the room and spotted a few metal folding chairs in another
a corner.  He walked over, unfolded a chair and draped his jacket over the
back.  He picked up another chair and walked to where I was standing,
unfolding it as he approached.  He sat in the chair in front of me and
looked up.

"I had a boy for three years, but I had to turn him in.  I had paid for a
five year run, but after three I let him go.  I picked him from a dealer in
Houston.  He had a little 'spic in him, but that made him a hot piece, so
that was okay with me.  His Momma got knocked up in Mexico one weekend.  No
decent man wanted a pregnant whore, so she stayed with her daddy and they
raised him in Del Rio.  The boy's Momma crossed the street one day and took
a hit from a car.  It killed her.  The boy was 10 at the time and his old
bigot grandpappy had to raise him.  When the boy was about 14 his pappy
came home and caught the kid getting his ass fucked by some neighborhood
pervert.  Turns out the kid invited the man in and offered himself up to be
fucked.  That old man grabbed his grandson's neck and whipped his ass good
then turned him out the next day and had the pervert run out of town.  I
finally got a hold of him when he was 23.  That's the story he told me, so
I don't know if it's true.  He was all right for the most part...nice ass,
good for fucking, and took the belt okay when I had to teach him things.
But I had a hard time keeping him straight and focused.  Always roaming off
and getting in trouble, you know?  At one point I had to lock him in a cage
for almost two weeks just to keep him from wandering off.  That cost me a
lot because I had to pay a whore to be my bitch for a while.  It wasn't
worth it.  So I took the loss and turned him in.  They beat him good, too.
Spent a week in bed, then they sold his ass to some Liberian.  That
country's pretty fucked up, so for all I know, both he and his Master are
dead.  Someone's always putting a bullet in your head if you're a
politician in Liberia.  If you're a faggot too, they slice off the goodies
and stuff them in your mouth before they shoot you.  That's probably what's
going to happen to them, assuming it hasn't already.  I don't worry about
that, though.  That's his problem."

"I need a boy with firm skin and the ability to recognize that he must do
exactly as I say.  I'm not a nice man.  I'm rich, I look good, and I have
power, but I'm not nice, and I'm not patient.  I'm going to test you every
hour of every day.  You'd better be ready for that.  I plan on making you
hate the very sight of me, and there won't be anything you can do about
it."

"I have a special place for you to sleep in and wait for me in.  It's not
much, but it's better than you probably deserve.  You'll have nothing to
call your own, and your only job is to please me.  And I'm not easy to
please.  Nod your head if you get me, boy.  I'm not just talking to hear my
own voice."

Through my gag, I nodded.

"I like a good schedule.  I have a business to run, and I run it well,
which is why I'm able to buy boys and whatever else I want.  I run my home
like my business.  I have a specific schedule and I keep to it, and so will
you.  You mess it up or mess me up, then you'll pay for it, and you'll
regret it."

"I'm not interested in your needs.  You'll be kept clean, fed, and housed.
That's it.  My boys don't wear clothes.  Ever.  I like to see what I own,
bruises and all, and I don't mind showing it off to anybody who's lucky
enough to receive an invitation to my home.  You will serve primarily as my
boy, but you will also serve anyone I decide you'll serve.  I hear you're
good at that part.  I hear you're quite the whore.  That's good.  You'll
need to be."

"Your body is too defined for my taste.  I don't like muscle on a boy, so
no more exercising.  You'll be on a strict vegetarian diet to keep you
thin.  The only meat you'll eat is cock.  Sweets are a reward for
exceptionally good behavior.  I've never had to give a boy sweets.  I'll
doubt I'll be giving you any either.  You still following me, boy?"

I nodded... thinking about a life without sit-ups, chocolate cake, or roast
beef.

"You'll not get anymore haircuts.  I like long hair on my main boy.  I like
to have something to hold onto when I ride his ass.  But I'll have my man
Joe shave everything else: cock, face, pits, legs.  Hair on a slave isn't
tolerated, and I won't have it in my house."

Cole stood up and removed his silk tie.  He slowly walked to the chair that
held his coat and draped it on top.  As he walked around the room, he
unbuttoned his collar and rolled up his sleeves.  He paused to finger the
various belts and paddles laid out on a table for Rev to use.  I expected
him to choose one, but instead he unbuckled his own belt and removed it
from his pants.  "Swoooosh."

He came up from behind and pressed against me.  As he gripped the alligator
skin belt in his right hand he reached around and stroked my cock, letting
the grain of the leather brush against my shaft.  He rubbed his left palm
over the left ass cheek and spoke softly in my ear.

"Some men lift weights to relieve stress.  Some men meditate.  Some men
read or plant flowers.  Do you know what I do, Christian?  I'll tell you.
I whip.  When I get home from the office, after a really stressful day, I
pour a drink, slip into a piece of my favorite leather, select an
implement, and then I reach for my boy.  I spend the whole day thinking
about his pale white ass.  I think about how smooth it is.  I think about
where I'd like to hang it: from the ceiling, draped over a table, nailed to
a wall, tied to a tree.  It changes every day.  That's what makes it
special."

Cole wrapped the leather belt around my cock and under my sac and then
started to squeeze.  He lowered his voice another register to a near
whisper.

"Nothing is more calming than swinging a belt in the air and then watching
it redden a boy's little white bottom.  And you, Christian, have a lovely
pale snowy bottom.  I look forward to bruising it for you.  I want to see
it glow when the belt that I have wrapped around your little cock finds its
way onto your butt.  I crave it... I do."

"Do you scream, Christian?  Hmmm?  Are you a screamer?  I do hope so,
Christian.  I so want to hear you beg for me to stop.  I can't wait for
that.  Hearing a boy beg me to stop is music, Christian.  Sweet, calming
music.  It's the most important part."

"But I don't stop, Christian.  It's not in me to stop.  I can't.  I have to
will myself to stop.  When I have this belt in my hand, when I swing it and
see it crash hard against a boy's bottom, I just have to do it again... and
again.  Christian, I'm a flawed man.  Deeply, deeply, flawed, Christian.
But fortunately I have you now, Christian.  I'll teach you to understand
that your Master has no choice but to do what he does.  You'll help me.
And you'll learn to take it, Christian.  You'll have to, because, I'll not
give you a choice."

Cole had tightened the belt around my cock to the point of strangulation.
His left hand had found the head of my cock, and his thumb was gently
circling it and rubbing the precum that was dripping onto his finger into
my flesh.  He was so very gentle.  So soft-spoken, so magnificently vile.

The Master removed his hand from my cock and unfastened the buckle that had
held the ball gag in my mouth.  It fell to the floor and bounced to the
side.  I knew it was about to begin.

"WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!"  Cole's belt connected with my ass like a thousand
hornets stinging my flesh.  It was a shock, and I screamed out in a rage of
panic.

"WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!"...and again...  "WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!"
"WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!"...and again...  "WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!"

Cole was indeed a methodical man.  Each stroke was perfectly timed and
perfectly executed.  He was not a man who held back.  He first blow was as
intense as his last.  He was not proving to be a thigh-man. Like Rev, he
was an ass-man.  And he liked his asses bright red... with bruises.

"WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!"...and again...  "WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!"
"WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!"...and again...  "WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!"

I screamed out after every blow, not because he wanted me to, not to please
him, but because I feared him, and because I felt the anger and the rage
each and every time.  It burned like a fire, as if he were branding me with
his own mark.  I was his and no one else's.

"WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!"...and again...  "WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!"

"WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!"...and again...  "WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!"

"WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!"...and again...  "WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!"

"WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!"...and again...  "WHHHOOOSH....SCHMAAAK!"

"Pleeease stop.... Pleeeaaase, NO! STOP!  OwahOwahOWAH!  AAGGGHHHH!"

But Cole, Master Cole, would not stop.  The whippings kept coming, the
flesh kept burning, and I kept screaming and begging and demanding and
pleading and crying for it to stop.  I just wanted it all to go away!

I looked down and my legs were flying around my hips.  I was trying to get
away from this brutal man and his belt.  Cole never missed.  He adjusted,
moved, and shifted from side to side.  He connected every time, like a
boxer with a whip.  He was relentless.

"AAAAAAGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!"

Master Cole dropped his belt and rushed up behind me and wrapped his arms
around my torso.  As my legs danced in the air, his hand found my bottom
and thigh and began to slap it quickly, over and over again.  He was
laughing to himself, laughing at me.

My legs dropped to the concrete.  Cole took my cock in his hand and
squeezed it.  He held on as if it were a knob or a handle.  He pressed his
shoulder against my side and held me in place and continued to wale away on
my ass.  First one cheek, then another.  The flesh was burning.  It felt as
if it was about to peel away.  My whole body was shaking and begging for it
to stop.  It didn't stop.

As hard as this was for me, it seemed oddly simple for him.  I caught
several glances of his face.  He was smiling.  He'd not even broken a
sweat.

And then he stopped suddenly, released me, and backed away.  I was soaking
wet and physically exhausted.  My shoulders were so cramped that I thought
I might need a doctor.  I could feel nothing below my waist.  If my legs
were moving, I didn't know it.

And then he was on me again.  I couldn't feel the belt, but I heard it, and
I heard every stroke as they crashed against my ass.  I tipped back my head
and stared at the light over my head.  The noise began to fade, and the
lights began to blur.

"Christian."  I heard a whisper.  It was Cole, Master Cole.  He face was
against mine.  I could see a large black torso.  He had removed his shirt
and was holding onto my cock.  My hands were hanging in front of me, but
were still cuffed.  I could feel his heavy gut on my arms and the fabric of
his trousers on my fingertips.  I collapsed into his arms and he walked
backward, letting me fall to the floor.

My knees hit a mattress.  I tried to catch myself with my arms, but I was
too weak.  I fell forward, trapping my cuffed hands between the mattress on
the floor and my own cock, which was, surprisingly, fully erect.  I could
hear Cole laughing and talking to himself... or was he talking to me?  I
couldn't tell.  All I knew was that I felt as if someone had soaked my
flesh in gasoline and tossed a match onto me.

The Master was standing next to my head.  I could see his feet.  He'd
removed his shoes and socks and now he was stepping out of trousers and a
pair of bright blue boxer shorts.  Instinctively, I wanted to follow his
leg up to his crotch to see his cock, but I knew better.  I'd been warned.
So I closed my eyes.

Cole dropped to his knees between my legs and put his hands on my aching
ass.  He rubbed the bright red flesh and whistled as what he'd done.  I
think he thought of it as a form of artistic expression, and I was his
canvas.  I felt him separate my cheeks and force a finger into my dry
asshole and then twist it back and forth.

He poured a cool gooey liquid between my legs and began working it into my
hole.  First one finger, then two, then finally three fingers forced their
way into my greased ass.

"I don't go to bed until I've fucked my boy's ass.  You'll be fucked every
night, Christian.  This part you'll like from what I've heard.  That
doesn't concern me, but at least I won't have to waste a lot of energy
fighting you."

After he'd stretched out my asshole, he gripped my hips and lifted me onto
my knees.  A few seconds passed and then I felt the fat head of cock force
its way past my rim.  It hurt like hell, and he laughed to himself when he
heard me wince, but he stopped there and paused.

"This is going to hurt the first few times.  I'm not interested in
lovemaking.  I prefer hot fucking. Do you know what that is, my boy?  Hot
fucking?"  I shook my head.  "It's what you'll be getting a lot of and will
need to get used to.  I'm an ass ripper.  It's what I like.  It's what I
do.  So hold on and pull in your tongue."

"AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGHHHHHH!!!"  Cole dropped his entire frame onto my
back and slammed his groin into my ass.  He thick steel cock shot like a
rocket into my gut, splitting my chute and tearing open my rim.  It went
deep, at least 9 inches, and he buried every goddamn millimeter of it
inside of me in less than a second.  My ass rarely bleeds, but if it was
ever going to, this was the time.

Cole twisted his hips as he gripped hard onto mine, laughed at my outbursts
and protests, and then ripped the entire length from my ass as quickly as
he'd powered it in.  A few seconds later he was inside again, grinding the
length of his meat as far as it would go and showing me no mercy.  He
pulled it from me a second time, and then forced it back in again.  And so
this was the pattern: to drive in, grind, then out, and then in
again... over and over... no mercy... no relief... no pleasure.

Cole repeated the torturous fucking for almost ten minutes (it seemed), and
until I could feel nothing but numbness.  By this point I had launched into
a full-on screamfest, complete with tears and an inability to catch my
breath for long periods of time.  This was rape.

When Cole grew bored and was ready to cum, he turned on some sort of
internal engine, and his hips began pumping furiously against the cheeks of
my ass.  It was rough, brutal, and like something out of a factory.  The
sounds of his flesh pounding against mine echoed through the room, which
made the effect seem like a private horror show.  When he finally came, it
was almost anti-climactic. He buried his cock one last time, his body
shivered, he moaned slightly, and then fell forward onto my back.  A few
seconds later, I felt sweat dripping onto by shoulders from his face and
neck, and semen dripping down the back of my sac as he pulled his dick from
my raw cunt.

Cole stood up and stretched as he walked to the head of the mattress and
shoved his toes in my mouth.  "Suck on those, freak."

As I sucked on his toes like a baby on its mother's tit, I began to smell
the shitty backwash that was dripping from his cock and out of my ass.  I'd
had a decent enema earlier from Rev, but the power fucking had knocked
loose the contents of my intestines and without the muscle tone to hold my
sphincter shut, it began to seep out and onto the mattress.  I felt
ashamed, helpless, and foul.

Cole was aware of my condition, but seemed unaffected.  "Yeah, something
you'll get used to, I suspect... happens a lot.  You'll live."

Cole pulled his foot from my mouth and laughed as my tears began to pour
down my face again and as the watery shit leaked out of my ass.  Cole knelt
down in front of me and for the first time I saw his cock.  It was hanging
just inches from my nose and was still engorged with blood.  It was every
bit as long and as thick as I had suspected.  It was curved and veiny, and
covered in dark blotches.  It was very large, but hardly beautiful.  He had
a thick bush of white hair growing above it, and his sac, which was long
and weighted with two huge nuts, was covered in a heavy coat of white fur.

Cole leaned over my aching body and forced me onto my back.  My cock was as
erect as a sixteen-year-old boy's at his first peep show, and it was oddly
embarrassing for me.  I closed my moist eyes out of shame.

"Lift your legs up and spread 'em....  Good.  Now let's give you're new
Daddy a show.  Grab that little cock of yours and stroke it nice and slow.
You can cum whenever you're ready."

This was one of the few times any Master had ever offered me a chance to
pleasure myself.  I'd certainly been fucked by men whose methods had made
me cum, but no one, especially not Paulus, had ever demanded it from me
like this.

With my cuffed hands, I gripped my dick and stroked it as if I were alone
in my own bed.  I closed my eyes and relaxed as best I could and tried to
ignore the pain and the smells.

"Boy, look at me, and don't ever close those eyes again, you hear?  Now
look at my face while you play with that thing.  You only get the chance
because I'm allowing it, so you need to look into the eyes of the man who
owns that cock.  Me."

Through the pain and the humiliation I slowly whacked my cock, squirming
like an inmate in an asylum.  I arched my back and shot a thick spray of
spunk onto my chest and nipples.  So powerful was my orgasm that my bowels
opened up and a final mix of water, shit, blood, lube, and cum gushed from
between my legs and onto the mattress.  I collapsed completely, nearly dead
and covered in sweat.  I could hardly breathe, and my flesh ached as if it
had been bathed in acid.

Cole dropped to one knee again and scooped up my cum with his hand.  He
rubbed it into his cock and motioned for me to open my mouth.  As I did, he
pushed his long dick past my lips and onto my tongue, feeding my own semen
and the remains of my ass.  As I licked him clean he released his urine,
which shot hard against my throat and poured into my stomach.  I thought I
would gag, but I didn't.  I drank every drop, as if it were pure water from
a cool spring.  Cole rubbed the top of my head and then cradled it so that
I didn't choke on his piss.

"Damn, boy... Rev was right.  You're the one for me.  No doubt about it.
Shit-stained and looking nasty, but damn kid, you certainly are one hot
funky piece of tail.  I'm gonna enjoy my time with you... every raunchy
second of it."

Cole pulled his now cleaned cock from his new urinal and walked over to the
door of the chamber.

"Hey Rev!  I gotta an old mattress here that's gonna need tossin'.  What
you want to do with it?"

I couldn't hear Rev's response, but moments later I was hauling the stained
bed out of the room and onto the back lawn.  Standing naked in the
sunlight, and still covered in all sorts of filth, I waited for my nude
Master to give me instructions.  Cole opened an old garage next to the
house and directed my to drop the thing inside.  To the best of me
knowledge, it's still there... if you're at all curious.

I spent the next half hour uncuffed and bathing with a large bar of soap on
the back lawn as my new Master stood by with a hose to rinse me.  Cole is a
stickler for cleanliness, so after an initial inspection, I repeated the
process again, then gave myself an enema with the hose, and then I soaped
my ass one last time before I "passed inspection."

Cole had me drip dry on the back deck then cuffed my hands behind me and
escorted me back into the chamber.  I was forced onto my knees and a thick
dog collar was buckled around my neck and then secured with a small lock.
Attached to the collar was a long silver chain, which Cole held in his hand
and never released until we departed.

Rev dialed the number I gave him for my supervisor and placed the phone to
my face so that I could speak to her.  It wasn't easy, but I did what they
told me to do and said goodbye forever to just about everything I knew,
everything I owned, and everything I loved.  I was no more.  I was owned.
I was a slave.

I made a similar phone call to my landlord and informed him that a moving
company would be packing up my apartment.  I told him I was relocating to
help a terminally ill relative, and that I was unable to return to do
anything in person.  He told me I'd lose my deposit, which almost made me
laugh considering what a measly 400 dollars meant in comparison to all of
this.

And that was it.  Rev gagged me with a fresh ball and then attached a
rather complicated CBT device to my cock.  It looked new, so I assumed it
was some sort of going away gift.  Lucky me.

While Cole dressed and I adjusted to the discomfort of the chastity
codpiece, Rev placed a call to Paulus and told him to "hit the boy's unit"
and "assess the place."  Then he informed him that he'd be their later
tonight with "the cash."  Rev asked about Ben's whereabouts (a man I still
hate and desperately crave at the same time).  Apparently Ben was there and
was going to help.  For whatever reason, I didn't feel violated by any of
this.  Maybe I had wanted it all along; maybe none of my things really
mattered to me; or maybe I was just exhausted and on the verge of a
breakdown.  Who knows, really?  The thought of these men searching through
my old apartment and tossing out my old clothes and selling off my
furniture just didn't make me angry like I thought it would.  It just
didn't.

Cole took my leash and led me to the back lawn.  He had arrived in a large
black van without any seats in the back.  He opened the rear doors and
revealed a large dog cage, the kind one would use for a couple of great
danes, which was decked out with a small thick mattress, a pillow, and a
sheet.  I climbed inside and stretched out on my stomach as Cole
instructed.  He climbed in after me and uncuffed my wrists but then
reattached them to each side of the cage.  He repeated the process with my
ankles then placed the pillow under my head and the sheet over my bruised
backside.  He then covered the entire cage with a couple of large thin
black sheets so that no one could see inside.  I was spread-eagle, gagged,
and going nowhere.

Cole locked the back door of the cage then shut the rear of the van.  The
two of them stood outside and spoke for a while.  I could hear laughter and
a lot of chatter, but nothing specific.  We left at dusk, and I fell asleep
almost immediately.  When I awoke, we were at a truckstop and Cole had
opened the front of cage and was unbuckling my gag.  He gave me a baby
bottle filled with water and had me drink the entire thing.

"You need to piss."

I nodded.

"Go ahead."  So I did, and I spent the rest of trip stretched out across a
wet mattress.

Cole never said a word in the van.  He played a lot of music, but didn't
sing.  We finally arrived somewhere in the middle of the night.  Cole
jumped out of the van and yelled for Joe.  At that point I knew we were
home.

A few minutes later the Master Cole opened the van and the cage and
unlocked my cuffs.  He pulled me from the ankles and onto my knees on the
driveway, and I looked up to see an old white man, at least 70, dressed in
a white shirt, and black vest and trousers.  He was wearing a striped tie
and an apron.  He looked like an English butler, but his posture betrayed
him.  He was slumped over and not looking very happy.  When he opened his
mouth to speak I was shocked at what I heard: a country hick from the
backwoods of West Virginia.  I knew that accent.  I'd heard it before from
my father's relatives and cousins.  This man, this butler, was a rube.

"Dang, sir. Pardon me, but he ain't very pretty... not like that last boy.
You shore 'bout this one?"

"I'm sure, Joe.  He's perfect.  And anyway, he's not for you.  So drop it."

"Yes'sa."

"He'll be in my room for tonight.  I'm not going in tomorrow, so we'll not
need the usual Monday morning attention.  I'll let you know when we need
something.  Get him upstairs and leave him at the foot of the bed.  I'll be
up soon.  Don't leave him alone.  Just wait at the door and keep an eye on
him."

"Yes'sa.  Come on boy.  I ain't got awl night."

I turned and looked at the large house, a sprawling Victorian monstrosity
with multiple gables, turrets and balconies eclectically arranged across
the front of the house.  The lot was wooded, and I saw no other houses
nearby.  We were out in the forest somewhere, and I had no idea what state
I was even in.

We entered through the large oak doors and as soon as I set foot in the
foyer, Joe pushed me onto my knees.

"Slaves ain't allowed to walk in here.  Know yo'r place and show some
respect."

Joe took my leash and led me up the massive staircase (uncarpeted) and down
the hall (heavily carpeted) to the Master's chambers.  His room was locked
behind 2 ornately carved doors.  Joe opened them and pulled me in behind
him.  He walked me to the foot of Master's bed and with a single finger,
aimed my head at the thick oriental rug.  Joe stood by the door and waited.
I sensed a large room, nicely decorated, but didn't dare look around.

A few minutes later Master Cole appeared and Joe left, pulling the doors
closed behind him.  Master Cole unfastened my gag and kneeled in front of
me.  He opened a bottle of water and had me drink most of it.  It was cool
and felt good going down.

Master lifted me to my feet but told me to stare at his shoes.  He turned
me to face the large king-sized bed and bent me forward then forced my legs
apart as if he were going to inspect my cunt. He walked to his closet and
returned with a belt that very quickly found its way onto my exposed ass.

"WHHAAACK!"

"WHHAAACK!"

When I didn't yell out immediately, Master increased the speed and the
intensity of the whippings, bringing the desired results.

"AAAAHHHHH!  PLEEEAZE NOOO!  GOD NO!"

"WHHAAACK!"

"WHHAAACK!"

I had no idea how many people were in the house, but if they had been
sleeping, they weren't anymore.

"WHHAAACK!"

"WHHAAACK!"

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

The beating lasted for several minutes.  Master was still dressed, but
halfway through, he stopped to remove his tie and drink some water, then he
returned and delivered another 10 lashings. I could feel the heat building
in the flesh of my ass.  The earlier whippings has left me red and bruised,
and now I was getting a whole new set to deal with tomorrow.

Master dropped his belt and my body collapsed a bit from the beauty of
hearing it hitting the floor.  No more, I thought.  He's finished.  Master
then reached between my legs and squeezed my nuts and pulled them toward
the floor.  I winced and groaned at this, which only made his groping more
intense.  My cock was filling up with blood and pressing madly against the
metal cock restraints that Rev had forced onto me.  I'd never experienced
anything like it.  It hurt like hell.

Master tossed my body onto the floor and had me face the coffered ceiling.
He dropped his trousers, stepped out of them and promptly sat on my face.
This was the first time I'd had the chance to sniff and taste Master's
hole.  I was anxious about it and immediately forced my tongue against the
tangy the sphincter and pushed it inside.

"NO!"  Master rose up and grabbed my cock and pulled hard on the device.
"No one fucks my ass with anything, especially a slave, and not with his
tongue.  Your job is to lick it and clean it and pleasure it.  Fuck it
again and I'll cut your damn dick off.  You hear me boy?"

I nodded and he sat back down on my tongue, which I used to clean away the
sweat and grime of the day.  When he was satisfied, he turned around and
forced his cock into my mouth and fucked it with the same power he used to
fuck my ass earlier.

This time it didn't take long for him to blow.  He shot a full load onto my
tongue, and I swallowed all of it.  It was thick and very salty and carried
a powerful smell that did to my head what poppers used to do when I was a
young man dancing the night away at the clubs.

Master lifted up and removed the rest of his clothing while I savored his
juices and tried to block out the pain of the beatings.  When he was
completed naked he called for Joe who appeared within seconds (the old fuck
was listening at the door).  Joe picked up Master's clothes and removed
them from the room.  I didn't see him again until the next day.

"You'll sleep there tonight, but don't get used to it.  I have a special
place for you and you'll see it soon enough."  Master then tossed a small
blanket on top of me, but no pillow.  I was exhausted, so I curled up and
drifted off seconds later.

I woke suddenly the following morning when Master flipped me over on the
carpet and ripped the blanket from me.  I wasn't really sure where I was,
and so I instinctively tried to crawl away, but Master had my ankles.  Once
I calmed down, Master opened a jar of petroleum jelly (very greasy) and
slathered a large chuck of it between the cheeks of my ass.  He pushed his
thumb into my cunt and moved it around, like a doctor doing a prostate
exam.  It felt very strange.

"Someone needs to take a shit, and it ain't me.  Too bad, because Daddy
needs some tail."

Master pushed more lube into my ass and then lifted my hips and placed me
on my knees.  He pushed my legs apart very quickly forced the entire length
of his cock into my guts.

"GODDAMN... DAMN'T.... STOPPPP!"

"Yeah let me hear it bitch... scream out and let me hear it.  Let me know
it hurts.  Let ol' Joe know you're new Daddy's ripping open your asshole.
Come on BITCH... LET ME HEAR IT!"  Master increased the speed he was using
to rape me and his fat cock was clearly getting even thicker with every
stroke.

"AAAAHHHHGGGGHHH!... STOP! OOWWW! STOP!  NO!"

Unlike men like Rev and Paulus, Cole seemed completely unconcerned with how
his technique affected me.  They were rough, no doubt, but I always knew
that they understood that there was a line there somewhere.  They rarely
crossed it, and when they did, it was usually out of anger.  Cole was
different.  With Cole, there was no line, and he wasn't angry.  This was
normal stuff for him.  How long could I take such brutal treatment before I
would need to see a doctor?  How long?

"Ah yeah. Damn, ain't nothing better that a boy's tight as hell asshole
first thing in the morning... nothing better!  You hurtin' boy?  Tell me!
TELL ME!"

I told him, all right.  He ripped into me like an animal and the whole
house knew it.  I screamed as if I were being tortured.  I was being
tortured, and I wanted out!  Where was Joe, I thought?  How could he just
stand around and listen to someone being raped like this.  HOW!?

Master pulled out and smacked my raw ass with his palm several times then
jammed his pole deep inside again.  His hips were pummeling me, and my
sphincter was on fire from the friction... and then it stopped.

He released his cum and shot it into my bowels then collapsed, as was his
custom, on top of me.  I thanked God that it was over.

"Come on."  Master grabbed my collar and dragged me into his large marble
bathroom.

"Don't get used to it... you'll have your own, but get up there on that
seat and do your thing.  I know you're loaded."

After all of the toilet training from Paulus, I was well versed with
shitting on command, so I gently dropped onto the john and opened my guts.
Damn, what a relief.  It felt amazing, but in truth, it burned like hell.
While I did my thing, so to speak, Master wiped his cock with a small towel
and dropped it on the floor.  He turned on his shower and stepped in.

"Don't move until I'm done.  And don't flush it either.  Just sit there and
be quiet."

I looked down at my bound-up cock.  It was still hard and pushing firmly
against the restraints.  There wasn't much I could do about it, so I just
concentrated on things and tried to make it soften, which it eventually
did.

After a lengthy shower, Master stepped out and dried off and started
shaving.  He pushed a bell next to the sink, and a few minutes later Joe
showed up and took a long hard look at the new slave, still cuffed, sitting
naked on the john.

"Clean him up, then get him bathed.  This whole place stinks to high
heaven.  Bring him back when you're done."

Yes'sa.  Will you want breakfast Mista Cole?  Or some coffee?"

"Coffee and some fruit.  Bananas, grapes, peaches.  That's all for me.
He'll have some bread.  Feed him after you bathe him and give him some
water too.  I don't want to watch him eat."

"Yes'sa."

"Stand up boy and bend ov'r."  Joe grabbed a cloth and soaked it in the
shower and then wiped the shit and lube from my ass.  He flushed the john
and tossed the rag on the bath matt then picked up both and escorted me out
by my leash and on my knees.  Master kept shaving.

Joe crept slowly down the long hallway with me by his side and took me into
a small water closet with a small tub, toilet and sink... a hall bath
carved out of a linen closet.

I sat on the closed john and Joe took a small key ring from his vest pocket
and unlocked the dog collar, the cuffs, and the chastity device.  I was
free, finally and completely naked.  Joe leaned over to fill the tub.

"There's a bulb in that there cabinet in the corner.  Git it and douche out
yer ass.  Don't piss around... I gotta lot to do."

Jesus.  This man has no shame, I thought.  He must get paid really well to
put up with all of this crap.  I found the bulb, filled it up, and spent
the next few minutes cleaning out the hole while Joe stood over me and
watched my every move.  I tried to ignore him, but seriously, have you ever
douched up while kneeling at the feet of an old coot?  Well, it's not
pleasant, and we'll leave it at that.

Before I was allowed in the tub, I had to be shaved, but I wasn't really
kosher with the idea of this old man putting a razor on my sac, but he did.
He started by soaping up my ass and shaving all the fuzz from my still
burning puss, and then he turned me around and removed everything else in
the crotch.  I thought I was done, but apparently Master likes his slaves
completely hairless, so Joe went to work on my face, pits, chest, and legs
as well.  Everything.  Gone.  (I did find out later that Joe had been a
barber in an earlier existence, so his skills were not to be
underestimated.)  And not one cut, nick, or bump.

I spent about 20 minutes in the tub.  Joe bathed me like a preschooler,
even washed my hair (which was never to be cut again).  He spoke not a
word, and then toweled me off and even had me bend over the toilet so that
he could rub ointment on my bruised flesh.  It felt good, but I don't think
it helped.

Without cuffs, I was able to crawl on all fours back down the hallway to
Master's bedchamber.  I was wearing the collar and the leash, but nothing
else.  When we arrived, Master was sitting in a chair on the far side of
the room, buck naked, and enjoying the newspaper, fruit, and his coffee.
He motioned for Joe to bring me over and then waved him away.  Joe left,
but never closed the door to Master's room.

"Suck your Daddy's cock while he eats his breakfast."

He lifted his massive pole and aimed it at my face.  I opened my mouth and
gently inched my way up the shaft until the entire length was buried inside
my throat.  Master didn't achieve an erection immediately.  In fact, I'm
not sure he was even paying attention, he just liked having a mouth wrapped
around his meat and, in truth, I did like it quite a bit.

While sucking on his ugly black cock, Master would reach down and adjust my
mouth on occasion as if to tell me exactly how he preferred me to do it.
He rubbed my head like a dog, and at one point did release a stream of piss
without warning.  I drank it, of course, but I think he was just testing me
to see if I was paying attention.  I was.

"Do you know where you are?"

I shook my head, still feasting on his cock.

"We're just north of Charleston.  I own a canning factory nearby, so I
bought this old place and had it restored.  Do you like Charleston, boy?"

I nodded.

"Well, that's good I suppose, but don't think I'm going to take you there
or anything like that.  My slaves don't leave the house and besides... what
would you wear?  A cockring?"  Master laughed like an old Santa, but never
looked down.  He had me, and he knew it.  But I did wonder why he always
used the word "slaves" and not "slave."  Were there others?

After an extended period of time with his cock in my mouth, Master finally
started to sport an erection.  He spread his legs a bit and adjusted his
sac and sunk into his chair to relax and enjoy things.

"That's it, my boy.  Give Daddy's pecker a nice one this morning.  That's
it, but not too fast.  Daddy has plans for your ass later."

That didn't sound very appetizing, but I held back like he said.  I didn't
want another whipping this early in the day.  As his cock grew, I could
feel the curve begin to take shape and its head push further into my
throat.  The veins that ran along its shaft expanded, so I ran my tongue
along the sides to gently stimulate them.  A younger me would have gagged
at having to deep throat such a thing for so long, but I was a pro now, so
I performed admirably.

"Let's check out that cunt and see how old Joe did this morning."  Master
pushed me back and had me stand in front of him.

I turned around, spread my legs as far as I could and bent down to touch
the floor.  Master grabbed my cheeks and separated them and took a close
look at my swollen rim.  He rubbed his long black fingers around the edges,
checking for loose hairs, and then when he found none, he pushed one of his
digits into my hole as if to check for cleanliness.  I winced as he did it,
but he never objected to that.  He enjoyed knowing that he'd hurt me, so he
pushed it farther.

"We need to loosen this thing up some.  I like it tight, but I'm not a fan
of lube, so I'll be training you to take it dry.  I like a good dry fuck.
The friction turns me on."

I almost vomited at hearing that one.  Dry?  That cock was huge, and he was
already a fan of roughing me up, so the thought of having him fuck me
without lube was almost too much to imagine.  Master Cole was proving to be
both a gentleman and a sadist, and I was getting more nervous by the hour.

Master Cole gripped the back of my thighs and pulled, motioning me to back
up a step or two. I did so, and bent forward and he pushed his face into my
ass. This was something new. Paulus and Rev were a lot of things, but
'ass-sniffer' isn't a term I would use to describe either of them.  Master
licked the outer edges of my asshole between sniffs, but very timidly, as
if her were sampling a strange delicacy from a third world country.

Then, just as I was beginning to enjoy the attention, he reached up and
wrapped his large black hand around my sac, squeezed its contents firmly,
and then pulled it forcefully towards the floor.  Ouch!... I thought.
Master snickered to himself.  He clearly enjoyed this type of
thing... first a little pleasure, and then a lot of pain.

"I like a nice long sac on my boys, so we'll be stretching this one.  Nice
nuts, but I wanna see them swinging.  This thing needs a lot of work.
Don't you worry.  It'll take some time, but it'll be worth it."

Yeah, I thought, that's just what I need... a good sac stretcher bouncing
around as he's whipping away another layer of flesh from my ass.

Master called out for Joe, who appeared quickly in the doorway.  "Hand me
his cuffs."

Joe pulled a pair of leather-covered cuffs from his apron pocket and gave
them to Master Cole.  He cuffed my wrists from the front and motioned for
Joe to take me away.

"Yo'r pleasure this morning, sir?"

"The tree out back... the one with the old swing.  We'll start there."

"Yes'sa.  Come on boy, get on yo'r feet and be quick.  I got laundry to
do."