Date: Wed, 11 May 2005 11:46:12 +0100 (BST)
From: WILL OBE <will.obe@btinternet.com>
Subject: OBEYING ROLLO 3

No one had told me, but a 'Warehouse' slave is not allowed to refer to
another slave as Master and no slave is allowed to address another as
slave. Rollo and I had been guilty of committing these unknown offences
when putting on our fuck show in the cinema. Two of the Masters in the
audience had complained to Master Joop and he told us we would be
punished. He didn't say how. He simply ordered us to the top floor terrace
where Kaiser, his enforcer, was expecting us in two minutes. We ran up
flights and flights of stairs to the top floor lobby. To one side a heavy
panelled door with the sign 'Sauna & Steam Room', on the other side an
automatic sliding glass door opens into a traditionally furnished Dutch pub
featuring a long bar with stools and an area with easy chairs arranged
around low tables. We can see Kaiser waiting inside as the doors open at
our approach.

"You're late you dogs. I'll add it to your punishment. Follow me."

He leads us through the bar. It's fairly crowded with Masters and numerous
naked leashed slaves kneeling on the floor. Out onto a wide terrace where
Masters sit at tables drinking and slaves crouch at the side of them. It'
sunny, hot and the sky is blue. How wonderful after the dungeon cell. No
other higher buildings overlook the roof terrace. Kaiser takes my arm,
positions me in a high metal frame, fastens my wrists by chains to the top
corners of the frame and my ankles by chains to the bottom corners of the
frame. Rollo is chained and spread-eagled in the same fashion in another
frame. We're both facing the guys drinking at the tables.

Kaiser goes to the bar and returns with a handful of steel nipple clips. He
pulls on my right nipple, twists it until I wince out loud, apples the clip
and I wince even more in pain and rattle and drag on the chains securing
me. He smiles and repeats the process on my left nipple. Now I'm screeching
and have tears in my eyes. The clips are heavy and weigh my nipples
down. Kaiser goes over to Rollo and attaches clips to his tits. He moves in
his chains, but remains silent. Now Kaiser is back and attaches a clip to
each ear lobe, another to weigh down my bottom lip, another to the foreskin
on my erect prick and two more to my shaven balls. For several minutes the
pain is terrific enough for me to throw myself backwards and forwards in my
chains, but then it begins to ease into a duller persistent pain. Meanwhile
Kaiser has gone back to Rollo and presumably fastened clips to his body. I
see Kaiser walking away through the bar leaving our naked tortured bodies
on view as an entertainment for the Masters while they sip their drinks.

We hang in our chains for what seems hours. Occasionally a Master comes
over to inspect me. Fondle my body, slap my arse, poke a finger into one or
both of my holes, remove a tit clip for a second, and listen while I scream
and weep with agony and then re-apply it. In the hot sun my naked body
begins to burn and sweat pours down me. Eventually the Masters lose
interest and ignore me as I hang in my chains, half-asleep, swaying to and
fro. Among other vague thoughts, it comes into my mind that being treated
in this way is not my idea of being a slave. If I was doing it to please my
Master it would be different. But I don't have a 'my' Master. All Masters
are my Masters. They may enjoy using me or seeing me used, but do they
really think of me as being a slave owned by them? Does it matter anyway?
'Warehouse' slaves and slaves of the 'Slave Circle' are available goods for
any Masters' use. None of them know me. Not important of course because I'm
a slave and I still live to be one and continue serving Masters. So what's
my problem? It's impersonal. Too impersonal! My thoughts drift back to when
I was David's boy. He treated me as his boy to be used and to fuck. I'd
loved that relationship. When he handed me over to Mark, knowing that's
what I needed, that had been even more wonderful. Being initiated as a real
slave to a real Master had fulfilled all my dreams. Being beaten and
humiliated as well as fucked added to and satisfied my inner needs. If Mark
had handed me on to be the slave of a particular person I think I would
have been happier. Rollo has now made me his slave. Perhaps that will help.

Master Joop slapping my face jerks me back to my senses.

"Time for your punishment slave." Master Joop said.

Behind him I can see Master Stefan and Kaiser. Like Master Joop they are
holding canes. Beyond them the crowd of onlookers has increased in size
with many more Masters obviously waiting for the 'entertainment'. Master
Stefan and Kaiser stride out of my view, around behind my back. A soft hand
strokes my bottom. It must be Master Stefan. Rollo must have the rougher
hands of Kaiser on his arse. Master Joop stands facing us He strikes his
hand lightly with his cane. At the same time I feel a stinging cut to my
bottom, across both cheeks. I yelp. Master Joop continues tapping his hand
and Master Stefan canes my backside in time to the tapping. Master Joop
gradually speeds up and the strikes to my arse come faster and harder. I
begin to scream and can hear Rollo yelling also. The crowds is loving it
and now clap their hands in time to the fast and furious beating. Tears
roll down my face. The chains holding me jangle loudly as I struggle to
pull my arse forward to avoid the unavoidable cuts. It's to no avail. My
bottom and my thighs are on fire with pain. Master Joop laughs and
excitedly strikes the palm of his hand harder oblivious of the pain he is
causing himself. Wow! This is too much. I try my old trick of thinking of
myself exposed naked in the town square receiving public punishment. It
doesn't work. My mind is too concentrated on the pain I'm suffering. My
tears combine with the snot running from my nose and the spittle oozing
from my mouth as I gasp, blubber and scream. I want to be a slave, but not
like this. Not like this. The caning continues until my bottom feels
raw. Is it bleeding? So what?

It takes me a moment to realise the caning has stopped and I can stop
screaming. Through the haze of tears I can see and hear Master Joop
conducting some sort of auction. The crowd of Masters excited by the
spectacle of two slaves being reduced to screams and tears are eager to
possess us. Rollo is sold to two evil looking leather hulks who drag him
away towards the lobby. Now it's my turn and, in spite of my pain, I begin
to take an interest. A bid of one thousand leaves only two still upping the
price.

"Fifteen hundred." I hear a voice, but can't see the owner.

"Two thousand." An American accent. A guy wearing a white suit sitting at
the front.

"Sold to Master Juan." Shouts Master Joop.

Master Juan looks to be in his fifties. His immediate appeal to me is his
rather stern handsome good looks and his prematurely grey hair. He stands
up and I can see his tall, slim, and muscular body. I lower my head as he
approaches me. He gently raises my chin with the tip of a finger and he
looks into my eyes. His are hard, black and luminous.

"You are English?"

"Yes Master."

"Your long blond hair is beautiful."

"Thank you Master."

"Most unusual. Take him to my room." He signals to two naked slaves with
jewel encrusted silver collars. They look as if they might be Chinese, but
as they are both wearing black hoods, it's difficult to be sure.

They unshackle me and lead me through the bar, down several flights of
stairs and along a carpeted corridor. One of them opens a door and we're in
what I take to be slave quarters. Perhaps, as they appear to be Master
Juan's personal slaves, their quarters. It's small and windowless. On each
side is a shallow padded box resembling a dog basket. The only other
fittings are a toilet open to the room and a shower area with enema
equipment hanging on the wall. The slaves proceed to give me an enema and
after a short wait seat me on the toilet. Two more enemas follow before I'm
pushed under the shower and given a thorough scrubbing except for my still
painful bottom and thighs, which they wash gently. Afterwards they apply
some sort of balm to my backside before surprising me by finishing me off
with hair dryers! No word has been spoken and I refrain from speaking
myself.

I'm taken back down the corridor and stop outside a panelled double
door. One of the slaves taps the door. I hear no response but he opens the
door and we enter a huge luxuriously furnished room with high windows
overlooking the canal. Sitting in an armchair is Master Juan still wearing
his white suit. The slaves walk me towards him, then more or less lift me
onto his lap, step back and kneel on the floor with their heads bowed. I
discover Master Juan's white suit is made from silk and the feel of my
naked body against it is extremely sexy. He kisses and sucks on my tender
nipples then places an arm around my neck, draws me to him and kisses me on
the lips. His tongue seeks my mouth and I open up and suck on him. I feel
his other hand pressing between my thighs and I open my legs. His fingers
fondle my prick, push back my foreskin, encircle my balls and then feel out
my boycunt. A long finger enters me. This excites me as nothing else could
and I cling to him tightly. I gasp as his finger strokes my prostate and
suck on his tongue harder in response. I resist as he slowly withdraws his
tongue from my mouth. He smiles, kisses me gently on my lips, stands up
with me in his arms and carries me across the room, places me lying down on
a silk covered ottoman and stands up. He snaps his fingers and the two
slaves crawl forward. One holds my ankles together while the other holds my
hands above my head. Master Juan takes what looks like a fountain pen from
his pocket and kneels down. I feel a slight pinprick in my bottom. He's
still smiling down at me as I begin to feel sleepy.

It's dark when I wake up. Pitch black darkness. I don't know where I am. I
can feel padded cuffs holding my wrists high above my head. More cuffs
holding my ankles high up with my legs spread wide. It dawns on me; I'm in
a sling. The distinct taste of semen in my mouth. My nipples feel tender
and my prick feels raw from being sucked hard and long. My boycunt also
feels sore and used and dripping with what I guess must be Master Juan's
spunk. But why put a slave to sleep to do it? Some sort of kink? Probably!
I cough and spit out a blob of his semen. It lands on my belly. I blink as
several spotlights almost blind me. Perhaps the noise of my cough has
activated them. I'm in a small room. The high ceiling is black and the
walls are draped with bright scarlet satin. I hear a door opening and
Master Juan emerges from behind the drapes followed by his two hooded
slaves. He's wearing well-cut white silk slacks and shirt.

"You make good sex boy." He smiles.

Even better if I'm awake I think. He spends a moment looking at me naked
and helpless. My hole spread and dripping from his fucking. I can see his
excitement has revived. He moves to my side and rests a hand on my forehead
just like a genial family doctor might. One of his fingers traces over my
eyebrows. It feels odd. He places his hand on my forehead again and slowly
moves it back over my head. Now I know. My head is as smooth as my
bottom. He or his slaves have shaved me bald. As he smiles, tears well up
in my eyes. He snaps his fingers and his two slaves step forward. They
remove their hoods. They are Chinese, but they are totally devoid of
hair. Smooth heads and smooth eyebrows. Now I'm the same.


Please let me know what you think of this chapter.
will.obe@btinternet.com