Date: Sun, 13 May 2007 14:07:43 +1000 (EST)
From: mickmack999 <mickmack999@yahoo.com.au>
Subject: The Reluctant Slave - Part 6.2 & Part 7

(m/m, m/t, forced, slavery, nc, oral, anal)


This story is (c) Copyright 2007, by MickMack. All World Wide Rights
Reserved.

The story below is the epic tale of a totally fictional event. Your
feedback would be greatly appreciated. It is gay erotica and is intended
to be read by persons who are 18 years of age or older, and by persons
that enjoy gay erotica.

The material covered in this story and all other accompanying parts of
this story are fictional. Any similarities to persons living or dead are
pure coincidence.

Please Note: To those who like reading my material, I apologise for
taking so much time in getting this story written and posted. It is a bit
off the usual subject matter I play around with, but hopefully you'll
enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Please send your comments to: mickmack999@yahoo.com.au







The Reluctant Slave

The Life and Times of Brad Cahill - Pleasure Slave

*****************************************************************

6.2        Brad Cahill -- Catch 22

(Extracts From the Recently Discovered Writings by Brad Cahill --
Pleasure Slave)

*****************************************************************

I no longer know how much of the young proud masculine Brad is still left
in me anymore.

That huge part of my personality now seems to be missing. Where I vaguely
remember I was once a fearless excitable young free citizen teenager,
thrilled about the world and my future. I kind of feel at times that this
glorious character trait I once had, no longer exists at all in me now,
and the queer slave girl Master Noel has commanded me to become has
finally taken over my entire personally.

Sometimes I wonder if I miss the old Brad, the young handsome macho 18
year old teenage football star, who took no bullshit from anyone as he
looked forward to a very bright future in professional football.

But I know that's all gone now. I can't pine for what I used to be. I
can still remember vaguely how I was once free, and then enslaved to
Master Noel. How somehow Master Evan had freed me for a very short time
afterwards before I'd allowed myself to be enslaved once again.

Again, I mustn't dwell on those thoughts, and I should be very happy
that I am now a highly valued male pleasure slave, and will always be
used as a sex slave until I eventually lose my handsome looks to old age.

In this life, where being a sex slave means I don't have any choices
whatsoever but to please my master and be exactly what he wants me to be,
I know the old rebellious, carefree Brad has been utterly defeated,
beaten out of me, and what is left is an empty shell where the former
proud youth I used to be once resided.

Oh, my muscular strong 18 year old teenage body is still the same, and my
face is still considered extremely youthful and boyishly handsome.

And as I attend to Master Noel's every sexual needs and desires, I
obediently grovel and cower, and act exactly like the little faggot-girl
he demands I be.

Sometimes as he uses me, and he's looking deep into my eyes, he'll
start slapping me real hard, snarling into my startled frightened face.

"I can still see you! Staring out at me defiantly! But don't worry
cunt, you won't be in there much longer! Just you wait!" he'd grate
through his clenched teeth, and then savagely beat me up as he continues
to fuck me as hard as he can. Most times I don't know what Master Noel
is ranting on about, but sometimes I feel something in my mind shift, and
I do wonder if it's the old Brad in there.

Anyway, they say once a slave has been enslaved and he finally lets go of
his past and learns to accept his future, the slave will achieve a
euphoric feeling of freedom that no free citizen can ever possibly hope
to achieve.

Maybe they're right!

Even now, six months later, as the dawn breaks signaling another
beautiful morning rising on the eastern horizon, and I kneel on my hands
and knees between Master Noel's parted legs, I silently give thanks to
Master Noel for showing me what a good little girl I am and how it is
important to show my gratitude at all times to him.

With his thick semi-hard penis lodged in my mouth, and looking up into
his yawning face while he sits perched on the side of his bed rubbing the
sleep out of his eyes, I once again praise him in my mind, thanking him
for selecting me to be his little faggot-girl, and I can feel my tight
little vagina twitching in anticipation for when he decides to fuck me
later.

Then when I hear Master Noel sigh softly as he relaxes completely, the
warning sign he is about to release his bladder and I should seal my lips
tightly around his thick uncut penis so no urine can escape, I look into
his handsome adorable face, willing him eagerly to hurry up and bless me
with his morning pee.

As the first squirting drops of his bitterly pungent urine trickling onto
my tongue turns into a powerful gushing torrent spraying the back of my
throat to instantly fill my mouth, I quickly swallow and gulp down all of
Master Noel's morning glory piss. Immediately I feel my eyes tearing up
with pure joy and happiness as I service my Master's early morning
toilet needs, and thank God I am his one and only little faggot-girl
pleasure slave.

Sucking the last droplets of piss from out of his long thick tube, and
then using my long pointed tongue to lick under his foreskin to clean it
out, I keep my twinkling blue eyes focused on Master Noel's contented
face. I remember I must at all times be completely docile, and cower
before him so he is happy with my absolute obedience to him.

Then, having just swallowed every drop of Master Noel's urine, I
immediately obey him when he orders me to lie on my back next to him and
spread my legs as wide as I can so he can look down at my total
submission to him.

And like every other morning since he rescued me, I am wearing the skimpy
pair of frilly girl's crotchless knickers he has bought me. They have
been pulled down off my hips and are stretched out thinly between my
widely parted ankles.

Master Noel's hand gently caresses my inner thighs, enjoying the feel of
the tight silk stockings he makes me wear, and sometimes in the mornings,
when he is in a happy and generous mood, he'll flick the elastic band of
the garter belt and suspenders holding up my stockings.

As always, I wear the high heels he has brought me, as he likes the look
of them as he orders me to sashay around the room we are staying in, or
feel them bouncing about on his back when he is fucking me with my legs
over his shoulders.

Again I listen intently as he begins to remind me I am his little
faggot-girl, and that I must act and behave like a proper little queer
girl for his pleasure, and his pleasure only.

And as he speaks to me, and I actually feel him stripping the last
vestiges of any manhood and masculinity he may see in me, referring to me
as his personal homosexual sex slave, as his little faggot-girlie, and I
know he is only doing this for my own good.

I know what he doing is very good for me, as Master Noel has always told
me ever since he came up to New Holland and brought me back with him that
he is the only one who can truly look after my faggot and queer homo
needs.

That he is the only one who can love me with the proper discipline to
make me respond to his ever-increasing lustful desires.

As he reaches between my legs and fondles with my large hairless balls,
squeezing them gently and patting and slapping them about, I listen
obediently as he refers to them as my little girl's ovaries, regardless
of their large walnut size. And when he runs his fingers and fisted hand
up and down my very thick erect penis, I eagerly smile and agree with him
when he calls this my little clitoris, just part of my sweet little
adorable girly parts.

And as he roughly slides three fingers up my anus, and the muscles inside
my anal passage gently squeeze and suck on his thrusting fingers, I
simper and giggle like a naughty little pubescent girl as he makes me
tell him how nice it is to have him finger-fuck my sloppy vagina or loose
girl pussy.

Yes, I lie there giggling like a little girl for him, lisping out loud in
a girlish voice, acting out the role he wants me to play. And every time
he does this, I can feel his growing love for me swelling up inside him
as I quickly start passionately kissing and licking his hairy body all
over.

But when he pushes me onto my back and lies down on top of me, placing my
silk stocking-covered legs over his shoulders, and I once again reach
down and gently take his rock-hard leaking erection in my hand to guide
him into my faggot-girl vagina, I know I love him with all my being, that
I will do anything to make him proud of me.

Then as he stares down into my timid smiling face and my body starts
responding enthusiastically to his rapid cock thrusting pace as he drives
himself all the way in and out of me, I thank him for being a real man. I
thank him with all my heart for teaching me what my real nature is, and
how important it is for me to act like a faggot, a real queer girl for
his personal pleasures at all times.

I can't help it when my butt cheeks spread even further apart for him,
pushing up frantically to get as much of his raging thrusting cock all
the way further up into me. Willingly I open myself up to him, my body
vibrating and pulsing, my girl-pussy sucking tightly on his rigid penis,
caressing and massaging it every time he plunges deep inside me.

And between our bodies, my fully erect clitty aches for release, begging
to be touched and jerked, leaking huge amounts of pre-cum onto my flat
stomach, demanding attention that will let my fully charged ovaries
explode and empty. And the feel of his hot hairy masculine body against
my smooth hairless girl's body drives me into a heightened aroused state
that nearly knocks me unconscious.

He taunts me again, reminding me of the first time he'd taken me in
front of his two best friends, how he had made me squirt my girly juices
twice as he'd fucked me hard, and how no real man, especially a supposed
tough young teenage sports stud like I used to be, could ever claim to be
straight if I'd cum while being fucked up my eagerly hungry vagina.

And as he slams up into me, he continues to remind me I am nothing but
his little sex toy, a naughty little girlie-boy born to be fucked, and
that I must have always been a queer, a faggot. Just look at my clitty,
he says.

See how much girly juices I'm leaking, and then he demands that I admit
I love being fucked up my pussy like a real homo. Immediately I smile
back up into his lust filled face and tell him I will always be his
faggot, his homo, his queer-girl, and that I love the feel of his large
erect penis sliding in and out of my vagina.

Again, I can feel and sense a little bit more of my original self
vanishing as he continues to berate that part of me that used to be Brad.
I know Brad is finally lost forever and Master Noel's new little
fuck-girl has taken over completely and will submit to whatever Master
Noel wants her to do.

Once more he increases his fuck-pace, growling into my simpering smiling
face now, reminding me to move my lipstick-coated lips up and start
kissing him passionately all over his muscular manly shoulders, upper
chest and neck.

And as I respond, obeying him willingly, completely, licking and kissing
his hairy upper torso as he pounds away, I keep my twinkling blue eyes
open and stare into his loving vicious ginning face.

*****************************************************************

7.         Evan Morgan -- A Reversal of Fortunes

(From the Private Diary of Evan Morgan)

*****************************************************************

Not many people will forgive me for what I did to my own brother. Not my
parents, not Noel's friends, not Brad, and not Noel himself.

In fact, as I look at myself in the mirror, sometimes I wonder if I'll
ever truly forgive myself, wondering what really drove me to act in such
a despicable way. Was it because I had had enough, that I wanted it to
end here and now? That if I didn't do what I'd done, Noel would have
continued to come after us, making all our lives a living hell!

Or was it because I truly thought Noel deserved to be punished for the
horrible things he'd done to so many innocent people?

Or maybe it was because I was so insanely jealous of Noel, of his hold
over Brad, and how Brad rushed in to try and defend my brother, declaring
his undying love and loyalty to him.

In a way, all the above are the reasons for why I finally set in motion a
plan to trap my older brother and have Noel enslaved for life.

On the evening of our escape, when I lay in my bed feeling safe and
secure for the first time in a long time, I would never have dreamed I
would choose the path I eventually took in wanting to finally destroy my
own family and my brother once and for all.

To have Sean and Jason race into my new bedroom at the Le Grand Hotel
where we'd literally just booked in that evening, and to tell me Brad
had been abducted right outside the front of our executive suite doors,
filled me with a panic that nearly drove me hysterical.

It should have been the happiest night of all our lives, where Brad, Sean
and Justin were re-united with their parents, where August was re-united
with his mother and little sister, and where Monet and I watched with
tears in our eyes as they came together.

And the moment Sean and Justin came bursting into my room, sobbing out
what had just happened I knew it was Noel and that he was behind this.

At first I thought it would be easy to track down Noel, and once I knew
where he was, then I would work out a way to get Brad back.

But it wasn't so simple at all.

On the first night he'd been snatched, while trying to calm the boys and
their parents, I was able to discover from the concierge that a large
bear-like man in an old duffle overcoat was seen lugging a large bundle
out the front door of the Le Grand Hotel.

Immediately I called security for the hotel, and demanded to know why
they hadn't done anything about it. When they admitted they had seen the
man on their monitors but not moved to query him as to why he was on the
premises, I exploded.

That's when I instantly realised most of them had been bribed to turn
the other way. None of them cared and they literally smirked in my face
when I demanded an explanation. Of course, within the hour, none of them
were smirking anymore as I watched them walk out of the hotel carrying
their severance pays.

Then I called in a high-priced lawyer, and when he arrived I authorized
him to commence proceedings to sue the contracted security firm for a sum
of money that would see them put out of business within the week.

But what needed to be done next? Time to me was passing too quickly, and
every moment meant the man was getting a bigger head-start on us.

With the assistance of the lawyer, I was able to secure the employ of a
creditable well-known private investigator, as well as a private security
firm that specialised in contracts such as this. I needed them all to
track down the man, find out where my brother was, and work out a way to
get Brad back.

Also, I needed full-time security and body guards for every one of
Brad's family, for Monet and for August and his family. I couldn't
afford to think what would happen if either of Brad's brothers suddenly
disappeared and how this would affect his already distraught parents.

By the end of the first week, few leads had been discovered, so it was
agreed that the man was definitely a professional under the employ of my
brother Noel. Also, it appeared Noel had dropped out of sight. There were
no leads whatsoever, and no-one could guarantee me when they could get
Brad back.

By the end of the second week, we were all feeling lost and frustrated. I
concurred with my security people that it was very unlikely the man, Noel
or Brad was still in the state of New Holland.

That was when I launched a class action lawsuit against my own brother
and his accomplices, claiming Noel Morgan was responsible for the illegal
and improper enslavement of the entire Cahill family, as well as for the
Mathers family, which were August's mother and little sister.

Sweet August immediately made arrangements to have his family moved to an
island resort, which was surrounded by security, before coming back to me
and declaring he would stay with me until we found Brad.

Sean and Justin wanted to do the same thing with their parents. But they
quite eloquently argued that there was no way they were going to sit this
out, especially considering this was their eldest son who would need
their support as soon as we found him.

Monet was just Monet. He was the emotional and rational anchor of our
small group. He kept us sane and kept our spirits up at all times. Never
once did he cave in to the lowest depths of depression that I sometimes
found myself floundering in.

Of course, my lawsuit immediately brought out the national media, who
instantly began reporting it as a protest movement against slavery. At
the urgent advice giving to me by my growing team of lawyers, I
immediately hired on a public relations firm. I needed this whole
situation to be seen for what it was, and that was my brother's illegal
actions against innocent people.

And then before I could even scratch myself, there were my father and his
team of legal beagles confronting me across a huge oak table in the
executive boardroom of the Le Grand Hotel.

He looked devastated that I could even do such a thing as this to my
older brother, exclaiming I was ruining the family name by going down
this path.

Abruptly I held my hand up, demanding he shut his mouth. Then throwing
down copies of all the documents I had gathered over the last six months,
as well as three dozen video tapes from Noel's personal library
collection I had secreted from his room before I'd left the family
estate, I told my father to look at the evidence, and I would speak to
him the next day.
It was a much more subdued man who faced me the next day. But he still
whined and threatened me, demanding to know why I hadn't come to him in
the first place. Easier said than done, I'd answered, and should we like
always just sweep all this under the carpet as well.

No, I informed my father! There was nothing he could do, and I doubted he
had the guts to follow up and punish his eldest son for what he'd done.

So now it was my turn, and it was my full intention to go after every
person who had abused Brad, to have them all enslaved, along with all
their families, and let them experience firsthand what they'd done to
Brad and his family.

I remember watching my father leaving, and although he looked like a
shattered man who was seeing his presidential chances fly out the window,
I could also see he was impressed by my stubbornness, my determination to
see justice finally done.

Two months had flown by, and still no leads were picked up to where Noel
and Brad had disappeared to. Immediately I hired another two private
detectives as well as another three security agencies.

I now had eyes and ears looking in every state and territory of our
nation. I was determined to bring Brad home, and bring Noel to justice.

Of course the ramifications of my class action lawsuits escalated across
the country, and before I knew it, anyone who'd been associated with
Noel was now subpoenaed to appear before the Supreme Court.

Also, word got back to me that the once much-heralded Regional Slave
Induction and Training Facility where Brad and his brothers were first
imprisoned had now been closed down due to the suicide of the general
manager Mr Kindred, and the enslavement of up to 40 of its senior slave
training officers.

This was followed by more news of many suicides across the state, of
people who had been in the direct pay of my brother. Even the FITO (the
Federal Internal Tax Office) and Slave Enforcement Authority were being
investigated in depth, and I would soon here about the suicide of one Mr
Jonas Pearson.

But the fact was no-one who was involved in Noel's highly illegal
enslavement of the Cahill family could have gotten away or pleaded
innocent, mainly because I had all the video evidence.

Noel, to his credit, and to my advantage, had video recorded everything
he'd ever done or organised, and everyone involved with him was seen
within those recordings.

But still no word came back of where he and Brad could be. As five months
flashed by us, I agonised what else I could do to find them.

But it was in the eleventh month that the man known as Grady was finally
caught, and in his possession, a video recording of his 48 hours with
Brad.

Immediately it was confiscated by the authorities, but I was given a
private viewing so I could verify that this was indeed Brad Cahill at the
time of his abduction.

But this is where things became really weird for me. In a way, the lewd
video recording also told the story of a young man who wasn't abducted,
but who had gone of his own free will with the man known as Grady, to a
shady hotel room on the outskirts of Morrisett City.

And as the film played, there sat Brad on the edge of single bed,
speaking into the camera lens with tears in his eyes as he admitted to
following Grady to this filthy one room bed-sitter.

And the reason why? Because Brad knew Noel would never leave him or his
family alone if he didn't obey Grady and do what he was told. At least
this way, he explained, if he submitted to Noel's will straight away,
his family would be free of being harassed or stalked or something far
worse.

Then Brad stood up and with trembling hands, lowered his pants and
underwear, stepped out of them and holding his large uncircumcised penis
up to the camera, began masturbating himself while smiling a sad defeated
smile.

Suddenly Grady walked into camera range, and raising his fist, he punched
Brad in the face, knocking him onto his back where he proceeded to tear
his clothes off his body and then violently rape him in the vilest ways
possible.

Immediately I left the viewing room, heart-broken and weeping as I
considered my next move. With my team of lawyers on hand, I knew we could
get Grady put away for life, because at the time of the video recording,
Brad was a free citizen, and it could be proved beyond a reasonable doubt
that what was recorded here was nothing more than outright coercion and
rape against the victim.

Upon meeting Grady, it took all my strength not to pick up the closer
heavy object and slam it across his smirking sneering face. I listened as
my lawyers offered him a way to reduce his sentence, and at the federal
prosecutor who nodded his head in agreement. All he had to do was give us
information that led us straight to Noel and Brad.

Grady immediately tried to haggle, laughing that we had nothing on him.

"I want him enslaved, castrated and sold to the Zasiadko mine pit in the
Ukraine. Also include his wife and any children he may have!" I said
aloud, watching the smile melt from his face and a scared, panicked look
replace it.

"No! You can't! That's not legal!" he spluttered, suddenly outraged
that a young punk like me could ever make such decisions like this.

"What you did to my friend Brad wasn't legal either!" I replied
softly, and turning towards the prosecutor, I told him to let me know
when the jury had made there decision and were ready to sentence Grady.

"It's a foregone conclusion! You'll be convicted, and then I want the
most severe punishment possible to be meted out to you and every one of
your closest relatives. Like they say, we should always keep it in the
family!" I said as I turned away from him and made to leave.

"Wait! Wait! Look, I'll tell you what I know okay? It ain't much,
because your brother didn't leave any following contact details! He was
too concerned of what you might do! But I know how to find out! If
you'll let me keep my balls, and leave my family out of this, I'll help
you find him!" he blurted out, desperately.

Turning back around, I nodded my head to one of my lawyers, and then
stormed out of the room.

True to his word, Grady led us directly to Noel's doorstep, in a
southern state of the country, where he'd stayed low and avoided
bringing any attention to himself.

He was now 20 years of age, maybe an inch taller than I'd last seen him,
and he was working from home for a small electronics outfit near the city
of Fairfax. The house he was renting was a dingy small one bedroom
affair, with a tiny kitchenette, toilet and shower room.

To me, twelve months had gone by, and I knew I must have appeared to
everyone else as if I was a fanatical zealot on my quest to find Brad. I
had grown over a foot and a half, and I had begun to really fill out.

I doubt Noel would have recognised me at first if he'd just seen me in
the street, as I'd also altered my appearance a bit as well by dying my
hair dark brown with bleached blond streaks which was the fad of the day
for people my age.

But it was time to drop in and visit him. I know my heart skipped a beat
as I knocked on his door, and when he opened it, I must admit it was me
who didn't immediately recognise him.

He appeared to have a permanent five o'clock shadow, his eyes were
hollow and he was a lot skinnier than I remembered him to be. Whatever
he'd been doing lately, he definitely hadn't been looking after
himself. All he was wearing was a filthy stained t-shirt and a pair of
very dirty tight jockey briefs.

At first he just stared at me, dumbfounded, and casting wary glances
around outside to ensure I was alone, he stepped aside and let me enter.

The room was a pigsty. Maggot infested food was strewn around, left
unattended in a thick covering of buzzing flies. The light was pitifully
low, and it took a second for my eyes to adjust.

And that's when I finally laid eyes on Brad for the first time since
he'd been taken from us, from me. He was on his knees which were wide
apart, his arms behind his back, his head lowered with his chin resting
on his chest and his groin thrust forward towards me as he maintained a
raging rock-hard erection.

I nearly cried as I saw how much weight he'd lost. The fact I could see
his ribs through his once muscular chest sent shockwaves through me.

Not taking my eyes off him, I made my way to a short stool where I sat
down, before turning my full attention back to Noel.

"Well, you're not looking too good at all, Noel." I said casually.
Noel just stared at me, and then ran his hand through his long oily
unwashed hair as he tried to think of something to say to me.

"What the fuck do you want? Why are you here, Evan?" he said, his voice
full of fear, knowing what I was about to say.

"Noel, I've come to take Brad back to his family. Why else would I be
here?" I answered, acting surprised he'd even asked me such a stupid
question. Immediately Noel moved over towards Brad as if to protect him,
and then I watched in amazement as Brad wrapped his once strong but now
thin arms around Noel's waist, hugging him close to him.

They were both shaking, trembling in fear. Even though Noel had seen
no-one outside with me, he would have known at that point I wasn't
alone. In fact as we were speaking, 10 heavily armed law enforcement
officers were now surrounding the house and ready to storm it at my
signal. And Brad could sense something was terribly wrong, and was
terrified Noel was about to be taken away from him.

"You can't take him! He's mine! Fucking look at him Evan, and see he
doesn't want to go! He'll die without me, for fuck sake! You should go
now, please, and leave us along, okay? Don't tell anyone we're here,
please Evan?" Noel said in a scared blustering hysterical voice, trying
to act like the brutish brother he used to be.

But I heard the tone of his voice change into that of a very frightened
child, and suddenly he was pleading with me to leave them alone as he
slid down and hugged Brad even closer to him.

"Please Evan, please just go and leave us alone." He begged, and for
the first time since I could remember, I watched tears run down Noel's
face as he started crying.

"I can't do that Noel. Brad's brothers and mother and father miss him
so very much, and I can see he's not very well. And Noel, father and
mother want to see you too. We only want you both to be safe and sound,
Noel." I said softly.

"That's not true Evan! You've come here to separate us! That's why
you're here isn't it? You want to destroy what we have together! Well,
I won't let you, you fucking cunt! Get the fuck out of my house before I
fucking kill you!" Noel screamed at me, suddenly standing up and moving
unsteadily towards me.

Instantly I stood up and smashed my fist into his gaunt face, and
watching the startled expression on his grimacing frightened face change
from surprise to agony as he slumped down on the floor unconscious.

Suddenly Brad wailed, throwing his arms out before himself, and I knew
then something was wrong with his eye sight as he frantically felt around
blindly, trying to locate where Noel had fallen.  Quickly he found him
and then leaning over my brother, Brad began howling and sobbing, running
his trembling hands over Noel's limp body as he tried to wake him up.

It was too much for me. Standing there, with tears pouring down my face,
I shouted out the key word, and before Brad or I knew what was happening,
the house was full of armed men checking out every quarter of the small
dwelling. Quickly I knelt down next to Brad, who cowered away from me
immediately, but I gently wrapped my arms around his thin malnourished
naked body and hugged him close to my chest.

And as I watched the pandemonium happening in that small house as the law
enforcement officers rolled Noel onto his stomach and cuffed his wrists
behind his back, before dragging him out to the police van waiting
outside, I wondered what the fuck Noel must have been thinking for them
to end up like derelicts on skid row. How could he have done this to
Brad? How could he have done this to himself?

Within half an hour, I carefully guided Brad out of there and into a
large limousine waiting for us. Brad appeared to be suffering from some
sort of eye affliction which had literally blinded him. But I kept him
close to me and spoke softly as I guided him slowly into the warm
interior of the vehicle that would take us both home.


To Be Continued...

*****************************************************************

(If you liked the story, please send feedback to
mickmack999@yahoo.com.au)