Date: Sat, 17 Feb 2007 04:26:31 +0000
From: Drin Whethers <cobradelight@hotmail.com>
Subject: Royal Nightmare - 4

			ROYAL NIGHTMARE -- 4

By Cobradelight
M/M, B&Dm etc


Previously....I'd been sent to the island near Georgia and suffered with the
rest of the royals and my time had even been extended an extra month.  Who
devised this hell with nakedness, rampant erections and constant
punishments?  When my cousin Benito and I were released I also took my
former guard and tormentor, Marcus, who suffered our fate.  He was a cocky
orphan who survived throu sheer will and I needed someone like that for an
aide. The expression of the men as we walked on the  ship was something I
will never forget.  We were filthy, naked with red backsides and our cocks
were swollen as were almost all the sex-neglected royals.  The crew was
quiet and respectful but I caught their glances at each other and the quick
grins.  I tried to ignore the stares and the captain wisely made no remarks
but led me to my cabin.  I locked the door and studied myself in the mirror,
my wide chest, taut nipples and hard, narrow waist. My cock throbbed, a
rigid organ rising from the thick blond bush. I saw my jutting square jaw
and light blue eyes.  Grabbing my nuts tightly, I fell back on the bed,
beating my meat like a mad man, coming over and over.  I rubbed some lotion
on my red bottom and slept on my stomach.   I stayed in my room mostly,
recovering from my ordeal although I had to confess I was in better shape
than at any time in my 21 years.

Now - We arrived and my father greeted me like the Prodigal Son   I took an
active part in governing, attending meetings, speaking at civic functions
while having a steady stream of available women always ending in the same
question from my father, "Is she the one?"   Four years later he suffered a
massive heart attack and lived only a few hours.   He spoke from the bed,
apologizing for sending me to that island -- he knew warehouse work was hard.
  I didn't speak.

"Jere told me you were bored with the daily toil but felt it was good for
you." He had no idea what I had endured, what we all endured, and why Jere,
his roguishly handsome playboy aide?  When I looked back he was gone and I
ascended to the throne.  Yet it nagged and I asked Marcus to investigate.
The truth was unbelievable -- Jere had made contact with the island group and
turned the traditional way of training into a profitable enterprise.  Not
only were we enslaved but it was all recorded by small cameras and the
movies sold underground for big bucks. Jere's new home  was magnificent and
he was just 29 -- where did an economics aide get that kind of money?  Marcus
managed to place some spy cams in his apartment and I watched.

The arrogant, handsome aide walked in, stripped and immediately spoke into
his cell, stroking his huge, thick cock.  He seemed to growl, one of those
hyper macho guys that were all the time saying "Yeah", "You know it"  "Uh
huh" or "Fucking right!"   He diddled one gal after another, boozing and
fucking on the couch in front of a huge plasma TV.  He'd lie behind them,
his cock sliding in and out as they gasped, watching my tears and thrashings
and ungodly erections. He would pinch their nipples and say, "Look here --
see him all fixed up like a dog?"   It was bold and daring -- porn movies of
his ruler and boss.  I had a plan in mind.

"Marcus, tell Jere we are leaving on a little journey and he is to come
along."  I had an idea that would teach this renegade a thing or two.   If
he wanted to laugh about being a slave I'd let his do so in captivity.
Besides, a little first-hand knowledge is a good thing.

Two months later, Marcus and I entered the palace of the Sultan of Yemen and
were taken to his private chambers.  Jere met the oil minister for a working
lunch.  The Sultan was delighted to help an old friend with a private
vengeance.   He showed us around the place and asked if we wanted to see the
slave processing center.  Slavery still existed in many Muslim lands just as
it always had.

I watched the action unfold on a series of monitors as Jere asked for the
john and was directed down a long hall.  A few minutes later he emerged,
looking around, called for the Minister. He started walking and
"accidentally" ran into a palace worker who had been on the outlook for a
slave in a suit.  He directed him down a hallway and from behind, two guards
grabbed him and told him to kept marching.  He was indignant but they
ignored his outrage, dragging him along.  The Sultan used former American
Marines as guards.  They were eager for the money and were loyal. Most in
Yemen spoke Arabic but all Western slaves spoke English so the guards were
helpful.

Protesting and yelling, he was dragged to a room and froze, mouth open.
White, brown and black men stood naked, each with a thick leather collar.
This was not a joke but the real thing.  The American soldiers hooted at his
designer suit.

"Fucking sharp threads, man.  Too bad you gotta lose em so quick." Others
called him a movie star and made him put on his ever-present sunglasses.
"Sharp, you should've been one of those male escorts for one of these fag
princes."    He kept screaming he was important, someone with power who
would make their life hell when he got the chance.

"Sure, fellow, we're quaking in our boots.  Now let's get you out of these
nice duds and into slave garb."  He protested vigorously, still screaming.

"Just ask him, the Sultan, I'm King Nikos's economics aide for Christ
sake!"
   The blond pondered then spoke into a phone.  I walked in with the Sultan
and the look of relief on his face was priceless.   The guard was hesitant.

"Sorry, your majesty, but he claims he is an aide to the King."   I walked
over and looked  him up and down, shook my head.  I walked behind him and
touched his shoulder.  He jerked away as the guards held his arm and I
circled back to stand in front of him.  I raised his chin, our faces close.
I felt his hot, shallow breaths.

"I don't know who you are but it's a good try.  Maybe when you get out...how
long are you in for?"  He was totally perplexed, muttering "What?"  A guard
said, "One year." He shook his head slowly.

"Nikos, why are you doing this?   He began pleading, asking if this was a
joke until I interrupted him and turned to the Sultan.

"Never seen the fellow before in my life."  I almost burst out laughing at
his expression.  "I had an aide who returned earlier when he got sick."
Jere began screaming and fighting until a ball gag was bound in place. Mouth
wide, sweaty and eyes bulging I watched calmly, smiling.   He was still
making efforts to explain, becoming more frantic now that it was becoming
clear what was in store for him.  I spoke calmly and downright perky!

"Is this one ready for processing?"   The Sultan winked and said he was.  He
then invited us to stick around and watch the entire procedure.  Jere's eyes
bulged almost hilariously.  Two guards took hold of his arms and the husky
blond stepped up with a big smile.  He held Jere's face up, gave his cheek a
few light taps then unknotted the tie slowly as Jere looked at me
imploringly. The guard held the tie in the air.

"What in the fuck did you think, showing up like this?  This is no modeling
agency, bud."   They unbuttoned his shirt and he kept switching his focus
from their hands to my face, making noisy garbled protests even as he was
being disrobed.  They let go of his arms.

"Come on, give me that nice silk shirt."   He blushed and held it out for
the guard. They stepped back as he revealed the large, shoulders and strong
arms. Short black hairs across the wide, powerful chest grew dense toward
the middle and proceeded downward to form a thick trail over his rock-hard
abs.  His body tapered to a thin waist -- a physique any man would want.

"Whoa, I bet this one lives in Pussyville, right stud?"  Jere's eyes opened
wide and he looked around.  "Well shuck those pants, let's see what the gals
get."  He looked around and realized he was surrounded by fully-dressed
soldiers smirking at his plight.  His face was bright red and his eyes
pleading but I simply shrugged and watched the unfolding scene with
satisfaction.  Trembling he unbuckled his trousers but a guard stopped him.

"Shoes first, dumbass."  He swallowed and bent over, awkwardly hopping on
one foot as he pulled off his $400 shoes.  When his pants were off he stood
in silk white boxers, so embarrassed.  As he whimpered low mournful sounds
behind the ball gag the guards pulled his hands up and secured his wrists to
his neck. The blond guard felt the expensive material with his finger then
grinned at his buddy and slowly pulled them down to his ankles revealing a
thick, black bush with an oversized cut cock.

"Step out, bud."  Another guard grabbed his arm and stuck a hypodermic in
his arm. He looked up at us with a leer and wrapped a thick arm around his
shoulders, squeezing him close like they were big buddies.   He spoke into a
head set that we heard clearly.

"Keep an eye on that donkey dick."  Jere looked down at his prick, biting
his lip and reddening as right before us his prick began swelling and
rising.  The guard gave it a few strokes and it immediately stood fully
erect.    I walked into the room and shook my head slowly, hands on hips.
He was every woman's dream and had never missed a chance to show off his
body.  Well this is your chance, bud.  He was tall and muscular, extremely
masculine and still maintained a rigid workout schedule.  His hair was wavy
and black and he sported a 5 o'clock shadow.  The thick furry trail traveled
lower and spread in every direction -- a bush with as much hair as most
people's head.  The curls extended down his strapping legs to his big toes.
  In the cool room his nipples were hard although he was sweating profusely.
  I reached out and rubbed his navel.

"An innie."  The guards thought that funny and began comparing their own,
lifting their shirts to reveal rock-hard bellies, poking each other's bully
button in jest.  More than his appearance was his attitude -- a cocky,
wolfish guy who knew women adored him and men feared him.  He oozed
testosterone and was raunchy but could fake with the best, turning on his
charm at will.

"Too bad he won't get a chance to use that thing."  We all gave a chuckle
and the guard whistled when he grabbed the upright cock in his large fist
and peered closer.

"Look at this bat, leaking already!"  Jere tried to turn, to hide his
swollen organs but the guard held tightly to his prick.  We heard whimpering
and the guards laughed easily as they pushed him to the scale.  When he
refused to comply, one of the tough Marines behind him picked up what looked
like a heavy ping pong paddle and smacked his rump with a resounding crack.
The startled guy jumped and screeched behind the gag and his eyes locked
with mine for a split second.

"Now hop up on those scales, pretty boy, unless you want a thrashing right
here."  He jumped up quickly and cringed at our chuckles.  He was very tense
and looked around wildly for any sign of relief.  They measured  (6'1) and
weighed (195) then measured his hardon.  He twisted when his prick was
touched.

"No, no, slave, time you started learning.  A stiff pecker is no reason to
get all privy now. Let's see...over 9 fucking inches.  We got a winner,
Smithson!"  He smacked his buddy's hand and pulled Jere's elbows back,
commenting that his hands were out of the way. The guard rubbed the red
splotch on his bottom and Jere blinked in shock and a rising sense of
desperation.  He stared down helplessly, unable to do a thing except watch
his cock throb.  He saw Marcus though the thick glass, made a wild, garbled
scream and tried to run over.  They caught his arm and he got another fierce
whack.  He was frantic but and followed Marcus as he stepped into the room
and walked over.

"You know, they ought to film these slaves in movies.  I bet they'd bring a
fortune."  Jere suddenly understood.  He looked at me then shook his head
wildly from side to side, screaming incoherently, the words unable to form
behind the gag.  A big guard grabbed his arm.

"Time to get started, Speedo."  His light blue eyes glistened from his
rugged, tanned face.  The thin white stripe from his tiny bathing suit
accentuated his deep tan.  They shoved him in line and he shuddered. He was
29, physically at his prime, rippled legs slightly apart as he stared ahead,
trying to retain his composure.  He kept turning back as if a last minute
reprieve were on its way.  When we talked about his erection he looked
absolutely mortified. A new guard stroked his thigh and gave him a small
pinch.

"Boy, you better look straight ahead if you know what's good for you."  He
stroked the red stripes from his licks and we laughed at Jere's reaction
form the unfamiliar touch of a man.  He looked ahead, eyes wide, not really
seeing the back in front of him.  The line moved slowly and in a few minutes
we heard a loud mechanical sound in another room.  The sight was almost
mesmerizing - an overhead S-shaped track with dangling sets of cuffs.  Their
wrists were buckled into one pair so that their toes barely touched the
floor.  When Jere saw it, he tried to back up but in seconds his hands were
attached to a set of leather cuffs and he was on his way, thick manly
armpits exposed.

He looked almost regal, incredibly virile as he hung silently, tears
streaming, absolutely helpless and hard as a rock.   His wide shoulders
suggested power, a V-shaped body that would now be on permanent display.  He
could have been an ancient Roman with his chiseled chin and black curls. The
thick hair in his armpits dripped sweat and it was only starting.  We
followed his progress from behind a large glass wall.  They passed thru a
series of sprays, soap, rinse, soap, rinse. Then an Arabic tattoo was shot
into their right shoulder.  You could hear the deep-voiced muffled cries
behind gags but no words could be made out.  It was almost grand in scope,
the men prepared for service like a chicken at the slaughterhouse.  He
twisted and turned and his expensive haircut was now messed.  They passed a
series of blowers and more injections were given for disease control.  In
the next room it was much more intimate.

As each slave entered, two guards lifted his feet and locked them into a
second pair of cuffs, bending him double, his rear end wide open.  His hard
cock was tied upwards between his legs with a stretchy cord.  Jere's butt
was round, tight and athletic, bisected with a crevice of dark curls as
thick as his armpits.  He swung slowly, staring from side to side, eyes open
very wide.   He realized how utterly exposed he was. A thin thermometer was
inserted into each upright cock and despite the expected reaction things
carried on as normal.  The little red bulbs waved in the air, jutting from
the upright pricks.

A blindfold now descended causing him to jerk at the bonds wildly, suddenly
terrified of the dark.  As he tugged a bag sloshing with warm soapy water
was hung over him and a tube inserted into his rectum.  He bucked his rump
like he was riding a bull at a rodeo.  When he turned a corner I walked over
to him, rubbed the back of his furry thighs.

"How's things going, pal?"  He stared right at me though he could not see a
thing.  His movements grew more vigorous as the tube pierced deeper and the
guard pointed out the thick halo of black curls around his tiny virginal
hole.  Sweat poured over his bright red body and he pulled at the
constraints, groaning loudly and tightening his muscles. When the water
began flowing into him the bouncing of his rump grew more vigorous.  I
remembered it done to me and the utter feeling of violation.  I leaned close
to him.

"You should see your toes curling.  Great feeling, huh?  Don't worry, you
never get used to it."  I lifted his blindfold?  "Hey. There's no need to
cry...just because your hairy crack is wide open."  I tugged on a few curls
and and he made incoherent, wild sounds behind the gag.

"You're a star, Jere.  Everyone's looking at that tube delivering nice warm
soapy water.  Maybe you'll only get two rinses instead of the usual three."
  I winked and gave him a cheery smile before pulling the blindfold back on
tight. When the track moved he swung back and forth, twisting like a madman,
helplessly exposed and being filled with the cleansing liquid up his rectum.
   At last the thermometer was removed and each man set on an open barrel.
The tube was jerked out and they exploded loudly, shaking with relief and
shame, only to be swung off and have their upright rumps plugged again for a
rinse. The line of men swung upside down, sweaty, hogtied, wiggling their
rumps in helpless tears.

The smell inside the room was worse than a locker room after a football game
in the heat. The odor of maleness, sweat and fear permeated the air.  A big
redhead approached, swinging slowly, and the Sultan pointed and chuckled.
His rear end was very red, obviously having just received a severe
thrashing.  His cock was long with a huge bulb. He looked like the typical
blue collar worker from Philly, freckles, lanky, tats on his arms.  He was
in his mid 20's and like most guys here had opted for slave service in lieu
of a long prison sentence.


Jere was taken down, cuffs removed and his hands again bound to his neck.
He was pushed, stumbling, clean inside and out, blind, wet and shocked at
the turn of events.   Two more soldiers who looked like recruits grabbed him
and pulled him to their station, talking about a local soccer game all the
while.  His gag was removed and he repeated the story about being an aide to
the King of Slovenia.   The shorter one laughed and asked where the fuck
Slovenia was.

"Stand over here, bud."  He moved slowly, not wanting to trip in the
darkness, hating having to obey these young men who now held authority.  He
gasped in shock when he felt leather under the base of his balls and his
hardon was pulled back so that the strap could be snapped.  The fit was snug
around his rampant prick, his nuts pooched forwards.  The lad stepped back,
hands on hips.

"That's a cockring, dude -- looking good!"  Jere made a pitiful sound and
the
lad gripped his shoulder.   "Yep, now that those fat nuts can be properly
displayed with that donkey dick!"   They took turns pulling the cock to the
side and letting it spring up, laughing at the constant hardness.  They
asked him where he was from and he repeated his assertions.

"OK, if you wanna keep on with that story. It'll probably bring more at
auction."  He was jolted and asked what he meant.  They removed his
blindfold and he blinked at the light.

"The auction, man.  You're going on stage for sale so we want you looking
your best."  Both men laughed as they casually began coating his strapping
body with thick oil.  "Man, you are ripped!  Come on, Jones, let's make
these muscles shine."  His cock pulsed under the strokes and when his balls
were coated he rose on tip toes, moaning at the sensation.   The two young
men teased him unmercifully, stroking and rubbing and pinching, delighted to
torment this handsome stud who obviously had never felt the touch of another
man.  One guy took his time rubbing oil on the hairy sac.  He took each nut
and slowly massaged it as the soon-to-be slave tried to stand still.

Jere tried to follow the conversation between the pair.  They seemed
typically boisterous without any cruelty -- just two dudes having a little
fun at the expense of a rich slave.  They laughed at the gals they picked up
from the local bar for tourists on the weekends.  He could hardly bear the
thought of his slavery much less the very public, auction that loomed before
him.   One of the guards held a thick belt with "attachments".  It went
around his waist and he felt an attached dildo probe his crack.  He
screamed, "No fucking way" and the tall one said to "calm down".

He was not about to let them put that thing up his bum.  He jumped off the
little platform but got only about five feet in the dark before running into
another soldier.  He heard good-natured laughter as he was returned and one
of his tormentors barked, "Gotcha!" He was told that he'd pay for his little
escape attempt with a special little dildo up his cute ass.   Kicking and
screaming he was thrown over a railing, held firmly as his round ass thrust
high in the air.  His strong, hairy legs kicked and his bottom tightened.

"Here, Kent, use Ivan on the bad boy."   He jerked Jere's face up by his
ears and drew very close, his hot breath inches away. "Time you learned who
the boss is around here, dude."  He felt his bottom spread and the thing
shoved in with sweat the only lube.  It seemed enormous but his mind was
centered on the burrs of tiny bristles that sent tiny explosions of
sensation to his brain.  All else was forgotten as he tried in vain to close
his anus.  His mouth opened and a low "Ohhh' was repeated continually.  The
young men looked at one another and grinned as they pushed slowly, inch by
inch.  They watched his face closely, asking him how his ass felt after
every small shove.

"This is what happens when you don't follow the rules.  I bet you wish you'd
controlled yourself and got a thin little rod up your ass rather than this
scratchy bugger.  Tell me, how bad is that itch?"  Jere did not answer but
twisted and bucked as it slid deeper, the bristles creating a sensation so
awful that it consumed him.  No matter what he did that itch could not be
satisfied.

"Feel good, bud?"  The once-arrogant stud was raised and barely able to
stand, sweating, whimpering  and squirming against the deep, incessant,
harsh tickle that never stopped.  When he opened his mouth it was plugged
with a huge dick gag.  The plastic rod was thick and short and stretched his
lips further than the ball gag.   It was overwhelming, all the sensations,
and now his nips were clamped with tiny, plastic clips attached to a thin
chain that hung down.  The chain was loop around his cock, keeping it high
in the air, leaking profusely, the head swollen so big it resembled a
tomato.

"Got some nice chest hair, man.  That brings a bonus usually."   Jere stood
silently, quaking, wagging his tail from side to side as the sensations kept
exploding in his head.  A new guard took his arm and led him stumbling to
another area, watching his spasms with amusement as the tiny buzzes of sharp
sensation kept him on edge.  The place looked like a nudist gathering for
crying, erect men.  Most were dressed like him although a few had more
leather. He stared around the room as the noise flowed over him, sounds of
sobbing, pleas and laughter.  Loud smacks were heard occasionally as guards
whacked bottoms of those who disobeyed or for no reason at all.  The crackle
of the microphone startled them and an Arab man with a British accent spoke.
  Jere could not even look down but felt his cock, rigid and shiny, and he
was going on sale.

>From JERES Point of View -  "Welcome to the weekly auction.  We have an
exceptional offering this time and I am sure you will be satisfied."  The
words made this nightmare a reality. I detected no words behind the gags but
heard moans and groans.  My blindfold was at last removed and I witnessed
scenes of solitary suffering, moaning, twisting and shivering as a guard
idly teased their cocks that stood stiffly from patches of curls.  Even
though I'd been warned not to move I couldn't help it as I tried for
anything to relieve the throb.  One spasm brought a firm warning from a
nearby guard who scolded me, pointing his finger as if I were 8 years old
while lightly squeezing my wet, cock head until the hot liquid seeped out
slowly.  Roils of anxiety coursed through my body and my cock pumped even
harder.  I was moved near the front of the line. At least I'd get it over
early but did I want that?  Fuck the King, fuck him.

We were pressed together and men who had never been naked with another guy
were now feeling hard cocks pressed against them.   It was excruciatingly
real -- being forcibly exposed before a huge audience with a raging hardon.
I could barely conceive of such a humiliation much less be part of it.  The
first guy, a European about 20, breathed heavily and appeared on the verge
of collapse.  He was lean, smooth with light brown hair and a darker
stubble, shaking like a leaf.  His uncut prick stood up straight and tears
rolled down his hot cheeks.  A guard noticed his reaction and wrapped a big
arm around him and spoke in a low, intimate voice.

"It's only six months, Jan, understand?"  The young man nodded, crying
silently. "Don't worry about those tears, you'll cry a lot in the next few
weeks."  He suddenly burst into wails and the guard let him press against
him, burying his face in the guard's shoulder. The guard rubbed the back of
his neck as he reached down to jiggle the awful dildo up the slave's ass..

I looked around and several slaves were squatting, spreading their legs to
avoid the thrust of the scratchy dildo.  They were bad boys like me who did
not follow the rules.  I tried it, lowering myself slightly.  The relief was
instant as I opened up and lessened the pressure.  The lower I squatted and
the wider I spread my legs the better it got.  I heard bidding and cheering,
cries and screams then applause.

"Time to go, bud."   A burly Marine took my arm and I straightened.  "No,
you look real cute that way.  Squat lower...more....spread those legs wide...yeah,
that's it, now get on that stage like a fucking bowlegged frog."   The mob
got a big kick out of my difficult waddling for I could only take tiny
steps.  My ass was only 2 feet off the floor and my legs and thighs
strained.  The heat of the moment consumed me and I blinked tears, trembling
uncontrollably.  When I tried to stand I received a hearty smack and a loud
command to stay in position.  The crowd echoed that order with glee.  I was
blinded by the lights of the stage and the wetness in my eyes. The huge
noise from the buyers was overpowering and I picked up only a word every now
and then.

I could not help but think of how I looked, a big, hairy muscle guy
shuffling along slowly at a squat, sweating, shaking, dick pointing upwards,
breathing so loud I could barely hear myself think.   My wrists were bound
up and every inch was on display.  The dildo drilled with each step and the
auctioneer spoke in a jolly tone as he kneaded my shoulder almost
affectionately.

"Seems you had an appointment with Ivan!"  That was the name commonly used
for the itchy dildo.  I felt my whole body spasm in scarlet shame when he
grinned and continued rubbing the stubble on my face briskly.  He squeezed
my dick head then gave my rump a loud pop.

"Stand up straight, slave.  You can get back to your favorite position on
your own time."   I rose quickly, shuddering at the rush of itchy sensation.
  I couldn't believe the nightmare -- trapped on this stage.  I could not get
past my enormous erection that delighted the crowd.  Just then I gasped and
a long strand of cum dropped and a long strand slowly stretched to the
floor.   I closed my eyes as those up close pointed and howled.  The crowd
cheered and stomped at my obvious inability to control myself. I wanted to
die right then but instead I was being turned around, bent over and my
stuffed anus shown to the crowd.  They cheered as hands parted the hair back
there and jiggled the thing up and down, shockwaves ripping thru my body
bringing the inevitable wiggling.

"European stock, think of the fun you'll have with this one.   I bet you
were one hell of a playboy, right?"  I blinked, confused and taut.  "This is
all new for him.  Think of it folks, from suit and tie to standing dick in
minutes. He's ready to start serving, what's that name, boy?" The word
"boy"
threw me for a loop as I stood biting the dick gag. He held the microphone
up to my face and snickered.

"What's wrong, you getting shy?"  I bit harder on the huge rod as he told
them my name.  He rubbed my face with a cloth, speaking almost
confidentially that my tears were flowing too fast to keep up with. He added
he'd wipe my tears at "both ends" and polished my leaking knob.  I gave a
squeal and the mob screamed its delight.  He was ready to begin and picked
up the mike.

"Bidding starts at $10,000 for Macho Man.  Yes, second row,
$11,000...$12,500..."  When it slowed he pulled my cock back to let it smack
loudly on my stomach, reminding them of its huge girth and length. The crowd
cheered as it threw off droplets of cum.  He kept my chin high with one
hand, asking the crowd to look at that handsome mug.  He tormented me with
the other hand, rubbing or squeezing areas.  His fingers slowly rubbed my
ribbed abs, grazing the moist cock head.

"I'll throw in this nice rubber paddle that I can assure you really packs a
wallop."  He handed it to the guard who obliged the crowd, bending me over
and delivering a mighty lick that had me yelping behind the gag.  I was not
even aware that the auctioneer had brought the mike closer to catch my
garbled scream.   The bidding started up again and the guard squeezed my
tail which was stinging.  I was sniffling, not bothering to hold back my
tears and then I was shaken out of my revelry by the loud, "Sold to 413!"

I was rushed to the other side of the stage between two Marines.  My cock
remained upright, throbbing and leaking, held high by the nip chain.   The
slaves who'd come before me stood with their buyers who ranged from older
Arabs to young Europeans.  The guard made me squat low again and though I
hated my appearance the stance relieved pressure.   I took a sharp breath
when I saw the King and Marcus in the distance.  They were in deep
conversation but still nodded and smiled to several who recognized them.  My
consternation as they approached could not be measured.   I wanted to run
away, to hide, to do anything but meet this familiar pair and yet they drew
nearer, headed my way.  They stopped, smiling at my erection and horrid
position.   I trembled visibly, trying to maintain the low crouch.

"Jere, what awful posture!"   I could not say a word as they circled me.
"Don't you look all spiffy, nice and shiny and that prick just keeps on
keeping on." I dropped my head so that I would not have to face the two but
a sharp tug on the dick gag brought my face up.

"Keep your eyes on me at all times.  I'm your ruler, after all."  I obeyed,
swallowing and trembling as Marcus gave a lopsided grin that was a
half-smirk.  "I met your new boss, a Scot and a real nice guy.   There he is
coming this way."   I saw the man walk swiftly and time seemed to stop.  He
was a European around 40 and the "free gift", the rubber strap, dangled from
his belt.  He gave me a quick glance then shook hands with the King and
Marcus once again.  Nikos directed his attention back to me and the man
began a close appraisal, circling me, squeezing and rubbing.

"Look at him, right off the bus.  He looks even better up close."  Marcus
reached out and rubbed the knob between two fingers.  The slit opened wider
and hot cum flowed out in tiny burps.  The man slapped my back and I winced
as my thighs burned with the difficulty of maintaining this position.  He
turned to them quite amused.

"He certainly looks harder!"  All three busted up at that and though he
chuckled I realized this guy was no slouch.  His eyes carried a humorous but
cruel look as he rubbed his clean shaven face.  His suit was a designer
label and I was terrified.  Then I heard someone call his name in a deep
voice with a familiar accent.

A young man in his mid 20's strode over as someone pressed an instrument
next to my back.  I felt a stab, a small sting and the words that my chip
was now in place.  My owner nodded almost absentmindedly, listening to the
King.  He finally turned and introduced the new guy.

"This is Troy Benghum, my overseer.  He may look young but he came from an
island off the Georgia coast and knows how to run a tight ship. If this
slave thinks he's got it rough now, wait till Troy takes over. You don't
want to make him mad fellow or he'll show some personal interest, right
Troy?"

The man smirked and chuckled.  He was an American Southerner, one of those
no-nonsense, slow-talking guys who didn't take shit from anyone.   They all
shook hands and I noticed his hand was large and strong.  In seconds he was
in easy conversation with Marcus, smiling and nodding his head.  He wore a
sleeveless, tight muscle shirt that highlighted his powerful arms and neck,
deeply tanned. His sandy hair was cut in a longish crew cut. He had stubble
on his face and was about my height and weight. He was dressed and I was
naked -- what a difference.  He smiled, arms folded easily as they exchanged
news from the States.  While chatting he unconsciously pulled on his crotch
and rubbed the back of his neck.  At last Mr. Daniels announced they were
all going to lunch.  Nikos looked at me.

"What about him?"  The King pointed at me as Mr. Daniels waved him off.

"Troy will handle him, right?"   Troy gave a crisp "yes sir" and my heart
beat faster when he turned and looked me up and down with amused contempt,
twisting his lower lip in a sneer as he watched my pumping erection.  Nikos
said loudly he hoped I was obedient since he'd hate it if I got in trouble
so early.  He shook Troy's hand again and they left.  The foreman yanked me
into the corridor and gave me a firm shove.

"Get moving and keep that squat!"  I would get no explanation or
conversation from this fellow.  He stopped, lit a cigarette, then continued
without a word.  The sweat poured from my body as I began this shameful
journey, grunting at the constant effort to keep in position.  I did look
like a fucking frog, squatting so low with my legs spread, waddling slowly.
I was surrounded by businessmen, traders, vendors and gawkers.  His
occasional touch reminded me of his presence and my status. Everything was
swirling -- the process, the nakedness, arousal, the casual purchase and
harsh discipline and of course the itch. My dick looked gigantic in the cock
ring and stood straight up facing every pair of amused eyes I met.

The waddling only added to my difficulty but Troy's sneer told me this was
the way I'd stay.  Was it possible to be more debased?  He talked on his
cell phone as we walked and I trembled harder.  I could not speak, only obey
every command.  I was so consumed with thoughts of the future that I'd
slowed down.  Troy gave a sigh of disgust and attached a leash to my cock.
Now he pulled me after him rapidly and I knew better than to rise.  Just
keeping up was excruciating.  At a small table he completed the paperwork
and a passerby commented that my butt looked cute bouncing up and down.  I
shook so badly that he had to hold my shoulder as we headed toward the
crowded parking lot.


Expensive cars drove past, Arab men in both traditional and Western attire
milled about, smoking and chatting.  The presence of American Marines was
everywhere you turned -- a couple on break enjoying a cigarette, two laughing
easily under a palm tree, a group in soccer shorts and shirts emblazoned
with a local team.  There were also slaves, both new and seasoned.  It was
not difficult to see which was which -- the new ones looked shell-shocked and
were desperate to cover their genitals.

Almost all the newly minted slaves were in my predicament -- our wrists were
bound to up and we couldn't cover a thing.  A blue-collar, foul mouthed
Italian had been in line right behind me and now he was chastened as he
shuffled by.  His new boss liked my stance so much he was also forced into
the awful squat, trembling and heaving as he semi-crawled along.  A smiling
burly Marine stood behind him with a thick strap eager to remind him the
penalty for attempting to rise.  The owner nodded and they disappeared.  I
was startled to hear the loud crash of a paddle and a rough order to "get
that ass down".

Troy removed the leash then complained that I got "fucking goo" on it. He
wiped it on my chest and pressed a strong hand on my shoulder, shoving me
down low to that awful crouch as we winded our way thru the busy lot.   The
humiliation kept growing, forced in this torturous position by this arrogant
young guy now in charge.  He strode steadily as we passed rows of shiny cars
and shoppers with bags, his hand glued to my shoulder, keeping me in place.
I winced at every low laugh or chuckle, the shame consuming me.   I could
only imagine how I appeared to those we passed.

At last we arrived at his car, a silver BMW, and he popped the trunk.  As I
was about to climb in we heard a loud voice and a sudden sheet of dread
rose.  It was Marcus who was riding with King Nikos in Mr. Daniel's big
limousine.  They stopped and Marcus got out, saying he was going to stay
with us.  He and the Americans were sudden pals.  Mr D handed him the free
gift, the rubber paddle, and Marcus made an exaggerated point of showing it
to me.  They got a kick out of my expression.  The car disappeared leaving
me alone with the two.  Marcus swung the thing in the air several times as
Troy grinned.

"How's that thing feel man?"  Marcus looked at him and locked eyes with me.
My heart raced at the look he gave me.  I was still squatting and he lifted
my chin, held it high.  He spoke to Troy but kept his eyes on me.

"Nice weight, smooth swing, wonder if it packs a good wallop?" He was
grinning and I  shuddered at his not-so--innocent smile.  Troy snapped his
fingers to me.

"Get over here, slave."  I gulped, dying a little with each difficult waddle
as I approached, petrified of their intentions, shivering uncontrollably
before the pair.  A few men had stopped to watch the little show.  My mind
screamed in protest as wordlessly Troy made me turn and face the lot,
staring at the little crowd who detected something going on.  My trembles
were as much from anxiety as my physical condition.  I blinked back tears
and  jumped when a hand rubbed my rump followed by a low chuckle.  The heat
was almost unbearable but all I could do was wait for it to play out.  It
was all happening so fast that for a moment I'd forgotten that my oversize
prick was pointing straight up.

Arabic was most what I heard and I shut my eyes, completely at their mercy.
I could kick myself for the many insults I'd given Marcus. Troy bent over to
stare at my face, watching closely.  I was hot and wet, in the throes of a
silent agony, the ominous silence as terrifying as his orders. My mouth
ached, my knees ached, my thighs ached and I just knew in seconds my butt
would outdo them all.  Troy looked at me then at Marcus.

"You got a nice target, bud."   In Slovenia I was featured on a calendar in
just my boxers, voted the most eligible bachelor in the nation, a trend
setter who just days ago fucked three gals before dinner and now I was
reduced to this.  In the mirror of a nearby car I caught sight of Marcus who
had shed his white shirt, tied it around his waist.  He stood in a lowcut
"T", looking like a hoodlum, the wicked, black rubber paddle at the end of
his muscular arm.  I shut my eyes, tightened my rump and when it crashed
with a loud WHAP I hollered behind the gag and tried to rise.  Troy kept a
hand on the back of my neck as he watched closely. What a fucking blow!  My
ass was on fire.

"Slave, how long do you think it would take my buddy to rawhide your pretty
bottom?" Troy seemed to be trying to read my mind, his eyes locked with
mine, his voice low and intimate. A new lick landed and I jerked again,
twisting my head violently.  He continued to gaze when a third lick startled
me. I spread my hairy, powerful legs wider to balance myself as the crowd
giggled as another new slave learned a valuable lesson.

"I bet he could do it in less than 30 minutes but I don't have the time."  I
shivered as I waited for him to finish this little conversation.  "Do you
understand what I can do to you if I want?"   I nodded and he shook his
head.  "I asked you a question."  The paddle smacked again.

I shook my head ferociously now, crying out behind the gag, trying to convey
that I did understand.   What a fucking sight I must make -- shaking, sobbing
and he looked quite satisfied and faintly amused.  Behind me Marcus stood,
arms folded, legs wide, waiting for another signal as a few in the crowd
called out for him to "get busy".

"It's tough for you rich boys -- you think the world is yours for the
plucking. You may have been some handsome stud out there with gals spreading
their legs daily and twice on Sunday. Well, that monster will stay hard with
the drug until it becomes as normal as breathing."   My mind flooded with
images, Marcus, the overseer, the paddle, the stage but I stared at the
resolute, handsome face and square jaw of my overseer.  He stood up and
folded his arms, watching my quivering, bent body, listening to the harsh
sound of air forced through my nostrils.  I got another lick and Marcus
jerked me upright, whispering.

"How's that rump feel, Jere?"   I cringed when his large hand began to
squeeze the red flesh in front of the oogling crowd and they also began
lecturing me.  "You're lucky Troy's a nice guy, otherwise I'd have thrashed
this pretty butt till you couldn't sit for a week."  I shook at the words
and his husky hot breath on my ears as his palm continued to rub the stripes
he'd laid down.   The public humiliation consumed me as my rump was being
slowly rubbed by the guy who'd reddened it!  Troy's grin at the little scene
was just as bad and he opened the back door and motioned me inside with an
exaggerated motion.  Before I sat he took my chin, pulling me close for a
warning.

"You are going to become invisible.  You can sit and stare at your boner for
all I care.  If I have any trouble at all I'm pulling over to the side of
the road and tying you to the top of the car like a snow board, understand?"

I nodded and blinked as fresh tears ran down my face.  I groaned when my
sore butt touched the surface but a seat belt kept my in place.  Marcus got
one leg, Troy the other, and pulled them up and back, tying them aloft with
other seat belts.  I was now spread for viewing and my hairiness from my
neck to my spine was on full view.  Someone made a joke about my visible
stuffed anus and the deep itch inside.   My huge cock was harder than ever,
wet and rigid.  Troy squeezed the tip several times just to remind me I was
helplessly erect.   I sat back, biting my lip, breathing in huge gulps as
Marcus whispered I was a fucking dumbass. He pulled back and spoke in a
jolly tone.

"There you go, all set for a nice ride!"   They laughed and jumped in the
front seat.  "If you're a good boy on the way home I'll think about removing
that itch stick up your tail.  Would you like that, Speedo?"  I nodded then
the glass partition rose shutting out their laughter.  I stared into a
mirror and the sight was devastating -- my crimson face, thick pits, hairy
torso, swollen nuts and thick straining prick.  My hair was sopping wet and
I was spread wide open, the dildo visible in the midst of the black curls.
The red stripes on my ass were plain as day and over and over I squirmed
with the insufferable itch.  I recalled the movies and the men begging to
come, how they were tied down for the night on the edge of an orgasm, woken
only to be teased.  I'd laughed but now I understood.

Then it hit, a slight electric buzzing from within me and I howled behind
the gag.  Oh fuck, oh man, what was that?  It buzzed again and I yelped,
suddenly realizing the dildo not only vibrated but discharged a short burst
of electricity.  For the rest of the trip it kept going off, buzzing
randomly in little pulses that coaxed out a continual stream of clear, thick
cum.  I was kept on edge, never knowing when the next buzz was coming. My
breathing was so loud I knew they could hear me thru the closed partition.
When I looked down at my prick I was amazed - the slit stayed wide open as
liquid flowed steadily -- that's how close I was to an orgasm.

It hit again and I threw my head back, moaning, my eyes rolling backwards. I
was in heat, needing to come so badly it literally ached.  My balls were
swollen and sore.  Sexual desire was torture and it affected me greatly.  I
heard a loud guffaw and opened my eyes.  The two had turned and were
watching my helpless, frantic movements, hearing me moan and twist and
noticing that my cock was on the verge of bursting.

"You come and you're in trouble."  Oh fuck, oh man, I was caught between
fear and desire.  The entire trip I squirmed and groaned and at last we
arrived.  I stared at the strange structure, a set of buildings in an oasis.
The center building was not large but dark and foreboding.  Someone opened
the door to the car and I felt another jolt of anxiety at the sound of loud
male voices wondering about the "new purchase."  The local workers crowded
close and in the background I heard a clear female voice over the din.

"Let me see what my husband picked this time."  I was in a panic that a
woman would  see me in this state.  I tried to draw back into the seat but a
shock of long, red hair thrust inside the car and her delighted voice
stopped me in my tracks.  "Oh my, gorgeous!"  The men cackled at her
observation and satisfaction.  Her eyes stare at my pulsing cock and it
jumped.  Nothing could be worse than this, splayed out naked with a huge
boner before my new mistress.   She lightly tugged on some curls in my crack
and I threw my head back, almost gurgling.  She was beautiful, around 30 and
seemed quite sure of herself.

"I bet he left a string of broken hearts behind. Who doesn't like `em
strong, handsome and hairy."   Guys whistled and quickly undid my straps.
"Come on, movie star, Ms D needs to inspect that boner up close!"   The
group was divided between local Arabs and the usual Americans hires eager
for some fresh entertainment.  Hands unbuckled my leg bindings and my seat
belt was undone as I twisted. I was pulled from the car and held tightly
between two, muscular workers as the woman again stared at my pulsing
erection.  She reddened slightly and her tongue flicked out over her full,
red lips making my cock jump.   I was sweaty and had the desire of a dog in
heat.

"Be a good boy mpw."  She reached out and rubbed the stubble on my cheek
then circled my stretched lips.  She examined the dick gag, amused at my
stretched mouth. Her finger traced down my neck and made a slow figure eight
on my chest, circling each clamped nip.   She lifted black hairs on my chest
and I shivered, closing my eyes.  Speech was impossible with the cock gag
but muffled sounds of shock were plainly heard.   She again took hold of the
gag, moving it in a circle, sideways then up and down as the men choked with
laughter. My eyes were wide open now, almost bulging.

"That must be modeled from this your mouth is stretched so wide."  She
pointed down and I shook my head in protest as she slowly slid her finger
down the thick trail of tight, black curls that grew thick in the center of
my chest. She watched my face as a finger ran up and down the small chain
that stretched from my nips to my cock head. I shook my head rapidly knowing
what was coming, and when her fingers stroked the sticky tip softly I almost
swooned.  Arms held me tight as she proceeded to squeeze it gently between
two fingers, coaxing out drops of liquid.  I felt goosebumps break out on my
body as I trembled.  The workers adjusted their crotches, captivated. They
snickered when she released the tip and the organ jumping around helplessly.

"You must like this, right?"  The guy who asked the question grabbed the gag
and rocked it up and down, making me agree with him.  She studied my cock
ring, smiling at its setup then removed it and the chained loop.  She smiled
when my cock sprang loose, standing tall, dark red and throbbing.

"Pity his poor gal pals," she remarked. "I bet he's bigger than any of
you."
  They issued a good-natured denial as she slowly pulled my dick down until
I hissed and breathed so loud it tuned out the comments.  Then she let it
flop back to smack my stomach.  I gave a low "ooooooh" that was unmistakable
even muffled and another round of cheering went up.  Behind her stood Troy
and Marcus, sipping a drink and smiling.  I could not stand it any longer
and jumped from the clutches of my captors.  The workers cornered me in
seconds, laughing as they hauled me back.  The young man to my left said I'd
better learn to obey and gave my rump a huge bare-handed smack.  I jumped
and hollered behind the gag while the men cheered boisterously.  I blinked
and gulped, tears flowing freely.

Her little hands tugged on the thick black pubes, marveling at its density
and volume. I knew I was going to explode when she suddenly drifted to my
furry thighs then onto my vulnerable testicles.  She held first one and the
then the other, then both, rubbing very softly as I quivered and whimpered
as the men watched her little performance.

"Look at all the curls that sprout on this sack!"   I was lost in the
torment of sexual pleasure.  When I dared open my eyes, Marcus and Troy had
moved beside her, grinning smugly. Marcus, in that cocky tone, spoke up.

"Only one thing left."  I swallowed catching his barely-concealed glee.
"Turn around, slave, let's check out that pretty rear end."  It took my
breath away, what they wanted me to do.  "Bend over and spread those legs."
I was in utter misery and unable to stop the flow of tears as I slowly
turned and spread my legs wider at his command. I was bent over until I
could look up between my legs at my Mistress. She said "Peek a boo".

"Boys, how about opening him up."   A hand touched each tight buttock and
pulled them apart.  I keened my shame, sobbing when she took hold of the
dildo and jostled it inside me.  As she move it around, Troy explained that
it was for punishment.  Her comments were mortifying.

"Oh, all those thick curls -- and look at this sexy behind. Who strapped
him?"  Marcus smugly replied he'd had to "teach me a lesson" not too long
ago.  Her finger traced my stuffed anus almost tenderly as I sobbed,
completed demoralized at this point.  I could barely stand in place I was so
upset but finally the inspection ended and I was raised.  Troy placed a hand
on my head and forced me into the unholy squat to the amusement of all.  The
gang screamed their approval when he hung a weight from my balls that swung
as I moved.  The lady spoke up as we turned.

"Troy, let's discuss this later." I knew immediately that they were lovers.
He answered with a tight "Yes ma'am."  The weights felt heavy, tugging and
teasing at the same time.  I passed the hooting workers on the long, slow
waddle into the house as the thing swung back and forth.  I flushed at their
comments and they really enjoyed my little hobble, running in front of me to
watch and scream insults.

"Ah look, Speedo's bawling!"  I couldn't help it, it was sensory overload.
I shuffled, inching forward, groaning and whimpering. Marcus berated me for
being so slow.  Troy yelled for me to stand up.  I did so and the men
continued their antics, tormenting me mercilessly, tugging on my body hair
or slapping my cock.  They finally tired of the fun and when they left the
awful dildo was jerked out.  It threw me off balance a bit and I reached out
and grabbed hold of his shirt.  I felt strangely empty.  My wrists were
unbuckled and when I tried to stretch the cramped muscles a new order rang
out.

"Hands and knees!"  I dropped, my mouth still painfully circling the thick
rod.   We started up a long hallway with a bright red runner that felt oddly
luxurious.  The weight made a soft noise as I pulled it on the rug, groaning
at the tugs to my nuts. He called someone on his cell and an Arab young man
appeared.

"Feed this new slave then clean him up before delivering him to my office."
The man bowed slightly and ordered me to get my white butt down the hall.  I
followed him into a thin alcove and waited while he poured dried food into a
bowl on the floor.   He removed my gag, wordlessly forcing my face into the
crunchy mess.  I gobbled it down quickly, ignoring the bland taste and hard
texture.  He set another bowl of water down and I tried to sip it.

"No, lap it like a dog."  His boot slid under and rubbed my aching nuts and
the base of my erection.  I jumped when his cool palm pressed my sore rump.

"You got a couple of licks?"  I almost snorted at his observation but
shivered when he continued.   "You'll get a real thrashing before long I
guarantee."  What did he think this was if not real?   He picked a long
flexible rod from a hook and using it, lifted my hips high in the air,
telling me I should get used to the rod since all guards had one.

"Hop on your tiptoes, keep eating, spread those strong legs, knees
straight."   I munched, trying to take my mind off the sight I must present.
  It was hard to hold this ignominious position, especially since the rough
tip of the rod had sunk deep in my crack.  I caught  my breath as it moved
up and down, scratching, rubbing and irritating my hole, ruffling the curls.
  He rubbed the bottoms of my feet which were raised.  The rod then ran up
and down inside my legs from knees to bulging balls to the other knee. I was
a stinking, sweaty mess when he knelt behind me, a hand on my back.

"That cock looks like a third arm it's so huge."  He gently examined my
balls and I thought I'd die.  I looked up and saw a long line of cum hanging
from the tip of my prick.  It was just the two of us although occasionally I
heard the sounds of footsteps as someone passed or the presence of a worker
fetching something from a closet.  They spoke to my tormentor, calling him
Farad, coming over to see what he was doing.  He'd resume the gentle torture
to my scrotum, the continual rubbing making me shake and wiggle until I knew
that in seconds I was going to shoot my load. He stopped instantly leaving
my angry prick throbbing and leaking.

"You handsome, big boys get extra attention.   Guards like nothing better
than having a macho, athletic guy to torment so you are in for a treat.  Now
let's get you all cleaned up so you can start your service.  Get down the
hall and stay on tiptoes, knees straight, palms flat on the floor."  Moving
like this was almost as difficult as the squat especially since I went so
slow and he rubbed the rough tip up and down my crack, making me shiver and
gasp as sensations startled me.  He kept having to remind me to raise my
tail high.  We stopped once so he could talk to the cook about dinner that
night.  The cook leaned over and grinned, asked who I was.  I said I was an
aide to a king and they laughed.

The shower room was a low wooden structure that smelled dank. An Arab
servant was called over and told to scrub me up good.  He nodded, took my
arm and raised me up, leading me under a showerhead. He began coating my
body with soap but I flung his hands off.

"I can wash my own fucking body."  Instantly Farad stepped out of the
darkness and told me I was not to say a word but to stand with my arms
raised.  I argued with him and he said again to be quiet. I seethed and
obeyed but when the man rubbed my ass I spewed, telling him to keep his
hands off.  Farad quickly spoke into a small transmitter and in 15 seconds
three burly American Marines rushed in.  They grabbed me and I tried to pull
away but my arms were twisted and I was goose-stepped to another wall with
nozzles amid thick, upright posts.  The wood beams had cuffs and I knew the
score. Silently my arms were stretched out and tied to the posts, my legs
quickly following. I was spread eagled, gasping and panting, then the
blindfold plunged me into darkness.  I shook my head vigorously but it
stayed in place.

"That should be easier now, Rafi.   I'm sure he needs the nozzle too."  In
seconds I cried our as my rear end was spread and a long tube with series of
ridges was inserted.  Every small rise on the surface seemed like a mountain
and sent me into new quavers but it was lodged firmly in place.  Rafi gave
my rump a few light taps and said, "There you go."

The liquid jetted and he scrubbed, waves of humiliation washing over me.
The spray stopped and I listened for the slightest sound.  I stretched my
hands and took a breath as I was lathered.  I froze at the sound in the
distance and in horror I recognized the loud raucous voices of my greeting
committee, talking trash and joking with one another.

"Well look who's getting all nice and clean!"  I stared straight ahead which
was all I could do since I was unable to see a thing."   "Why you hanging
out here, man?"  My prick was smacked and pulled and rubbed as I tried to
jerk back from the possessive hands.   Then they took over my bathing,
soaping my balls and cock until I pumped my crotch like a bitch in heat.  I
moaned loudly when someone ground the rubber tube deep and the liquid
finally stopped.

"Here's a shit bucket."  I felt a cold metal rim on my backside and the tube
was jerked out. I tried to hold back but in this position it exploded in a
loud, terrible noise that had the men almost choking they were laughing so
hard.  My hairy chest, armpits and crotch were lathered and two of the men
tried to force a bar of soap in my mouth.  They held my head tightly and
pinched my nose.  When I opened my mouth to gasp for air they thrust in the
foul-tasting log.  A hand rubbed my neck and a deep voice snarled with
delight.

"There you go, don't that feel better now?"   I was weak, shivering at the
degradation, his playful tone and their enjoyment.  I was holding a bar of
soap in my mouth and my prick would not go down but stayed nice and stiff
the entire time.  Suddenly the noise ceased and when they backed up I spit
the bar of soap out.  I heard Troy's voice and sure enough, Marcus chimed
in.

"OK men, that's enough fun for now.  I have to take care of some bad
behavior before the party tonight."   Their silence vanished for now they
erupted into shrieks and shouts of "Yeah!" encouraging him to teach me a
lesson.  I was rinsed and I opened my mouth to spit out the residue of the
soap and riinse out the foul taste.  Still bound, I was quickly dried and
then my limbs were released.  I recoiled when Troy firmly lifted my chin.

"Didn't I warn you about acting right?"  When I tried to explain he told me
to shut up.  In the pause that followed he barked, "Take him to the wood
shed!"  The men went nuts, screaming and cheering like we'd won the World
Cup.   My mind was flooded with images and a paralyzing dread took hold of
me, rising with each passing second.  My heart pounded faster as the sheer
force of the crowd moved me along.  I stood taller than most of them but a
10:1 ratio is hard to beat.

"Jason, get my wooden paddle in my office!"  The men cheered lustily and
Jason snapped a loud "Yes sir!" as I was taken to meet my fate, the awful
reality of it setting in.  I was dragged into the hot sun and though unable
to see, worried that others would see.  We entered a room -- the coolness and
dankness only adding to my sense of dread.

"This is the woodshed, dude, and you know what happens in here."  I froze as
the jeering worker patted my bottom.   This was too fucking much and it was
going to happen in front of this rowdy gang.  I was bent over a railing, my
arms held tightly.  Someone squatted and held the back of my neck, telling
me to hold on and they'd get started right away.   My insides quivered like
jelly and I could barely catch my breath. The man kneeling noticed my
shudders and laughed.

"You better be scared, bud.  That pretty behind is gonna do a lot of moving
and shaking in the next 15 minutes.  Hey boss, he's read for his whipping."
When the man pressed my head lower, my feet rose so that my tiptoes barely
scraped the wooden floor. I could not help but shake especially at the cute
reply.

"It's not a whipping, Abak, it's a nice spanking with my friendly wooden
board!"  The gang responded with a roar as the paddle crashed across both
cheeks.  The instant heat and pain defied description as it smacked my
tight, round rump with a loud crack.  I cried out in wonder and pain.
"Count `em , slave!"

"One!" The board packed an incredible wallop that made me forget about the
whacks from Marcus."  Another smack. "Two!"  I had never experienced a thing
like it -- the immediacy of this fiery punishment amid hooting, excited
males.  Images formed in my mind - bent across this beam getting my bare
bottom paddled as a gang of lowlifes screamed their approval.  At the same
time, the intensity of the thrashing captured my attention.  By the ninth
whack I could think of nothing else except the board and how my wiggling red
bottom responded to it.  Every single blow was solid and many swung upwards,
striking the curved underside of my ass, making me shoot up on tiptoes and
raise my tail in the air as I hollered.  Soon I was bucking and fighting
wildly but the young men holding me laughed knowingly, all too aware how
futile that was.

"You ain't going nowhere, Speedo.  Just relax and enjoy it."  I felt the
hand on the back of my neck, rubbing slowly as if giving strength for this
ordeal.  I knew that I would never sit again when I screamed 16.  My cries
grew more desperate and when I began kicking my legs wildly the men cheered
even louder.  At last he stopped and I was jerked up, convulsing and sobbing
for all the shiny, smiling faces.    Troy chuckled behind me.

"This ain't over, bud, I'm just working up a little sweat." I heard him
pull
off his T-shirt.  Someone knocked my chin in the air -- holding my face aloft
as the sneering men yelled their crude comments.  I recognized some of the
voices enjoying the new entertainment.  I knew they were elbowing each
other, grinning broadly at the sight.  The crowd never let up, taunting
without ceasing.

"Not so tough now, are you?"   Someone else was close.   "I bet his fuck
babes would love to see him now.  Hey, that dick is finally drooping a bit."
  They played off one another and drew even closer.

"OK, here's the real question...which would you rather be doing -- riding
around in your expensive sports car or getting your ass blistered?"  They
screeched and I was shoved over the beam again, shouting and blubbering as
the board resumed its punishment. The laughter exploded from the group and
another guy spoke up loudly.

"No, I got it...which would you rather be doing -- eating a juicy steak or a
juicy cock?"  I thought about what they said only for an instant but I was
flopping over the beam, bucking like a stallion as my rear end was paddled
raw.  At last he stopped yet the noise of the smacks still rung in my ears
and the rhythm I'd developed continued. A large cool palm felt the broiling
flesh as I wept in big, loud sobs.  I was broken and it was only the first
hour.  The hand squeezed sending bursts of pain to my brain.  He asked me in
a low whisper if he did a good job.

Farad spoke up, wondering if I could act right from now on.  I nodded and
tried to talk despite my sobbing.  He said I must always answer with "yes
sir" or "no sir".  I mumbled the hated words and waited as Troy lifted my
chin so that I faced him with wet eyes.

"I'm not sure if you've really learned your lesson. Maybe you need another
round."  I began begging and pleading fervently, telling him I was SO sorry
and I would NEVER mess up again.  I swore I'd act right from now on.  I was
not even thinking about my esteem, just stopping this whipping.   He finally
nodded and I was untied.  I would have collapsed but the men held me up.

"I bet we don't have any trouble from this one the rest of the day."  For
once I had to agree with him.  Marcus made me jump and yelp as he pinched my
blazing left rump. Another guy grabbed the other buttock and together they
tormented me all the way back.  I spasmed at their clutches, hopping and
screeching as we marched back to the shower with the gang.  I endured
another soapy wash still blindfolded, choking on my sobs.  At least the guy
was gentle when he scrubbed my crimson flesh.

I was dried and Farad entered.  I was absolutely naked -- no collar, cuffs or
cock ring. He removed the blindfold and made me squat.  I headed off, the
anxiety building.  We entered a large hall and I saw two other naked slaves
in the distance vigorously scrubbing the floor.   They did not even look up
when we entered.  He pointed at a bucket and I carried it against the wall.

"Start!"  That was it, a one-word command.  The whole thing suddenly
crystallized -- this was not a movie, a joke or even a trick gone bad.  This
was a new world, one of orders and humiliations and naked hardons.  I
learned the correct scrubbing position, on all fours, legs wide.  The floor
consisted of thousands of tiles so progress could be accurately measured.
Another guard, surely an American Marine, strolled around the place keeping
an eye on us.  A long leather paddle hung from his belt and he looked my way
and walked over.

"Newby, Anderson, just arrived and already got his bottom blistered."  I
swallowed at his snicker and started scrubbing, trying not to pay attention
to their little conversation.  One of the slaves turned and his cock was
very hard yet he worked as if the condition were normal.  This was nothing
like those stupid porn movies or XXX books.  It was helpless guys not babes
and the servitude and feeling of lowliness cannot be described. I thought I
was working diligently when a boot moved in front of me.  I looked up,
petrified, at the rough grin.

"How you like it around here so far?" I blanched and he cackled, walking
away with his little joke.  I scrubbed tile after tile and it grew harder as
people walked thru on their way to another part of the place.  Windows were
being installed by Sears and the work men acted as if it were normal for
muscular, strapping guys to crawl on a shiny floor with a huge hardon.  I
was looking at them when the strap crashed across my rump.

"Get busy, pretty boy, you're not here to gawk!"  I jumped to the task and
was briskly rinsing a tile when Farad returned.  He told me to follow him.
Again I returned to the showers and this time he watched as I scrubbed
everywhere except my crotch.  When I was dry he led me to another small
room.  He said I had to "get ready for the party." Talk about making your
blood freeze.  I wanted to ask questions but was too scared.

He strapped on  the thick belt and bound my cock up tall against it, a
little loop under the swollen, purplish head.  My feet were lifted and long
boots, quite light, were laced up halfway to my knees.  Two little nip
clamps were added as was a new cock ring.  Farad circled me in a close
inspection.  I stared in the mirror in absolute, stunned horror.  There I
was, red-faced with my dark stubble, wet curly locks, hairy chest and
armpits staring at me.  The tiny silver nip clamps shined and my "uniform"
was mesmerizing -- the thick collar, the cuffs, cock ring, thick belt and
high, laced boots.  My cock stood tall and enormous and my black bush I'd
loved looked as if it were under a spotlight. I could not believe my own
appearance.

His hand kept rubbing my broiling tail as if he could not believe the heat
being emitted. He gave me a gentle shove but when we'd gone a few yards he
remembered and made me squat. I whispered a low "Please" and he stopped.  I
knew he was near, hovering, and finally he raised me to stand and put a
finger on my lips telling me to be quiet.  His hand touched my back and I
marched into the dark.   I heard a low whistle and a hand squeezed my arm.
"Nice work."  I shook at being observed like a fatted calf.

"Come in."   I was pressed downward and slowly waddled through the door.
Like a physical blow Marcus's cutting voice rang out.

"Well look who we have.  It's our new woodshed pal."  I swallowed, listening
to the pair chuckle at my plight.  "Come here, Jere, you gotta show us that
nice, crimson fanny."  I shuffled across the room and turned around for an
inspection.

"Whoa, man, you did a good job -- I'll tell Mr D to give you a bonus!"  The
new dose of stimulants surged through my system and my prick began its
helpless rise. I was sniffling, trying to hold back tears as if anyone could
keep their composure in this situation.  I'd seen tapes of Nikos in tears
and thought how stupid it was.

"Nice boots you got there pal, Jere, but that dick hair needs a trim."
Marcus was without mercy and Troy chimed in with his little gems of wisdom.

"You are going to be the guest of honor at dinner -- all new slaves strut
their stuff the first night."  I exhaled a sharp breath and he continued.
"So you just make sure you're up for it."  All the men burst out laughing as
I swallowed and looked down, totally mortified.  I stared at the huge red
knob of my upright member and waited.  Troy stood up and said, "Time to meet
the guests, stud."

His voice dripped sarcasm and I took a deep breath. Farad added cuffs around
my wrists and ankles and combed my thick, wavy hair.

"All fixed up?"  Farad answered "almost" and lifted my arms to apply a roll
of deodorant before spraying me with cologne, incredibly degrading.  Hands
quickly oiled my nuts and my shiny, blistered bottom and even gave my full
and stiffening cock a few strokes.  I was shaking badly, unable to control
the little shimmers that kept racing through my body.   He pulled me out
into the hall.

"I'm not going to have any trouble with you, right?"  He squeezed my rump
and gave it a few taps and I thought I would die of shame.  I shook my head
and said, "No sir" shakily. "I hope not.  You can just imagine what I'll do
to you in front of those dinner guests."  I answered with a tight "Yes sir"
and it was then that I heard the music and general rumble of a crowd of
people.  I caught my breath in incredible consternation.  I heard Mr Daniels
and felt the pinprick on my shoulder, another injection. My owner spoke
amiably with Troy, asking him how I did and when he saw my red bottom said,
"Oh my" and gave it a friendly squeeze.   He looked down.

"God damn!   That's a hardon to end all hardons! How big is that thing -- 10
inches?" He took hold of it and pulled me into the room.  1The smells, the
sounds of wine poured and food sizzling and music and laughter - it was all
so shattering.  Suddenly it grew very quiet as he stood, my cock held
tightly by his fist.

"Folks, this is my newest slave, an upright young man."  They howled and I
stared ahead, unable to look at their faces, imagining the image I
projected.  I heard a lady's voice.

"Is that thing real?"  The crowd screamed as he pulled my cock down and held
it.  It was so stiff it literally ached and yet I stood docilely until it
was released and sprang back, slapping my stomach with a loud splat.

"What you think, ladies?"   The females responded with loud applause,
squeals and appreciative remarks.   Some men nearby walked over to feel my
ribs or arms, even my shoulders.  Sumptuous food like I used to enjoy laws
nearby along with the formerly outlawed liquor.  And here I was, in the
midst of this swirling mass of civility, wearing nothing but boots, a cock
ring, nip clamps, collar and a smile.

"You starting a new style, Daniels, letting him go all shaggy?"  He grinned
and snapped his fingers and a servant quickly set up two small stools.  He
introduced King Nikos to applause and after a little introduction during
which my heart thumping madly he explained I'd made up a story about the
kind. Therefore the king was going to give me a public trim.  Nikos came
over beside me, a gleam in his eye.  Hands guided me to stand on the stools,
legs wide, and then I laced my fingers behind my head and waited, quaking
with terror.

I heard the buzz of the clippers and his promise to give me a proper trim.
The words made me literally moan with misery  - how could it be worse?  Troy
walked up, now attired in a handsome black tuxedo.  He grinned but I was
focused on the electric clippers that drew close.  In seconds Nikos was
trimming my lush, thick black pubes back to an even half inch.  Troy held my
cock, moving it down and to the side for Nikos as he buzzed.  I was sobbing
yet my cock never wavered. He casually stroked the little rise of skin under
the knob and my knees almost buckled at the sensation.

"He's got hair growing up that baseball bat.  I brought a razor."  Mr D
nodded and Nikos lwatched y as Troy slowly coated the shaving cream on my
enormous shaft.  I was leaking something awful.  He held my nuts to keep me
in place and slowly shaved the curls off the shaft.  He wiped away the
residue and I stared, startled at the size and frantic movement.

"Who'd have thought you liked a nice shave so much?"  Howls were followed by
an order.  "Now hop off and turn around.  I need to give that hairy crack a
much-needed haircut."  Amid the loud screams I locked my hands behind my
head and shut my eyes.  I found myself stepping off and turning around,
mounting the stools again.

"Look, he's crying."   "Well he is getting that hair cut down to size."  I
saw the curls on the floor and the neat little trim job he had done.

I was shaking so bad I could hardly stand and when I did, peals of laughter
rang out at the sight of my dark pink rump.  Troy turned around and smugly
confided that he'd had to give me a sound spanking this afternoon.  The
crowd loved it and two ladies volunteered to hold my cheeks wide apart.  My
sobs were audible but what could I do?  The clippers again buzzed and I felt
the cold metal against the sensitive inside walls. The women holding me were
telling their friends how hot my bottom was.

I heard a loud cheer and saw a huge metal wheel rolled onto the floor.  In
seconds I was bound, spread eagle onto the ring which could turn sideways or
end to end -- quite ingenious I had to admit.  It was tipped forward so that
I my head was level with his chest.  I heard the loud buzz and then my wavy,
black locks were sheared.  It didn't take long until I looked like the
Marines -- a nice flat top.  The noise level had risen and folks were
pointing at my erection that seemed horse-like.   Many shook Troy's hand and
told him what a great overseer he was.

I was game for any and all.  I lost count of the number of hands that
fondled my balls or stroked my organ.  A thumb was shoved up my butt and my
nipple clamps were removed for easier access.  Ice was rubbed on my belly
button and a group of guys got the idea of shoving a few cubes of ice up my
rear end.  One lady took pity on me and held up an appetizer (lobster,
asparagus and garlic butter with a white wine reduction) for me and I
gobbled it down.   In between my bites I moaned as she lightly tugged on my
hairy sac then scratched that hairy spot right between the legs.

Two guys, obviously the joking type, tried to wipe an appetizer in my ass
crack and make me eat it. I shook my head so violently I knocked the drink
from one of them.  He moved behind me and delivered a huge whack that made
me scream and others turn.

"You're gonna eat this little appetizer aren't you?"  I nodded, broken,
willing to do anything to stop it.  He wiped it in my armpits and fed it to
me, grinning at his ingenuity.  "I think I hurt my palm I smacked that
slave's ass so hard!"  I sobbed, the experience devolving into nothing but
sensation, humiliation and noise.  I would be left alone for a few seconds
then a chipper voice would ask if I liked my new trim job before rubbing my
freshly shorn pubes.   I could not help but squirm like a worm on a hook,
unable to stand the myriad sensations that raced through me.   I was
dripping wet with sweat, panting harshly, hanging in silence when the
servants entered to clean.  Even they chuckled at my hard-on, giving it a
tug as they walked by.   A friendly servant gal offered me a left-over shot
of champagne and another sneaked a shrimp to me.

"So how was your first day, Jere?"  It was Marcus looking spiffy in his tux.
  I'd seen him at the party, flirting with the ladies, regaling the men with
stories of home and giving me a shit-eating grin whenever he passed.  I did
not answer him and he stepped up, a bottle of beer in his hand.

"Let's see -- you got processed this morning, given a nice enema and then we
had that pleasant auction.  Let's forget about your little thrashing in the
public parking lot but I did love that inspection by Ms D.  You know what I
liked best, Jere -- and it wasn't your well-deserved paddling."   He paused
and took a swig.  "No, what I liked best was your little walk -- maybe I
should patent that -- red butt and hardon required."  His fingertips curled
over my dick head, the tiny strokes continuing until I was bucking and
thrusting like a fucking horse.  He looked around and pulled out the little
belt holding his cumberbum in place.

He backed up and smacked my cock fiercely.  I gasped and he smacked it again
and again.  It became even redder, angry looking as it flung off droplets,
refusing to droop.  He smacked the head and up and down the rigid shaft, at
least 20 licks before he poured  beer slowly over the upright tip and walked
away.  I was convulsing with the thought that I only 364 days to go.