Date: Wed, 1 Apr 2009 10:14:41 -0700 (PDT)
From: Jake Ward <nakedrabbit819@yahoo.com>
Subject: Sex Toy Enslavement Ch. 4 Gay Male Authoritarian

I hope my readers are now getting the idea that I plan on this story being
multifaceted.  I've introduced a number of characters because I want to be
able to create a number of radically different situations within the same
story so we can all live with these characters for a while.  We are going
to begin to keep up with several of the different characters and see where
that may take us.  I apologize for the use of numbers for so many of the
characters, but hope that as you get to know them you will come to feel the
number is indeed their name, until their slave name is chosen by their new
Masters.


As always, I'm enjoying all the feedback and hope the story is both
interesting and stimulating.  Also continue to enjoy hearing from slaves
looking for a Master, as I continue to look for another slave.


Disclaimer: The following is an original work of fiction that contains
graphic depictions of sexual activities and erotic abuse between males.
All characters are portrayed as being over 18 years of age, as you should
be to read this.  If you aren't, or if such material is offensive to you or
illegal to read where you are, then stop reading now.
	All rights are reserved by the author.  Please download for
personal use only.
	This story is fiction...........I think.




	Trainer gave some instructions to several of the Bosses about what
he wanted done with the slaves today.  After 115's collar was installed he
wanted him to be exercised with several of the other slaves, then put on a
cleaning crew to clean the cells where the slaves lived.  Mainly he was
getting everything squared away so he could focus the rest of the day on
109.  Trainer knew this was a critical period in 109's development and as
much as he wanted to get 115 better integrated, he knew that 109 was now
the priority.  Trainer had been working for two months to get 109 where he
was now, it had been an accelerated program that had worked remarkably
well.  He and the Doctor had spent almost a year planning it then selecting
109 as a good candidate when he had been identified by Watts.  They had
misjudged just how recalcitrant 109 might be, and finally Trainer had
resorted to the shot gun shell.  That had finally gotten 109's attention.
His illusions of escape and freedom were finally being shattered.  Now was
the time to strike him to the core, and now was also the time to see if
this new method could be affective.

	As 109 was being taken to Trainer's quarters he knew his fate was
about to be determined.  He'd done the best he could in 115's welcoming
ceremonies to show Trainer that he was willing to submit, that he finally
understood his only way out of here was to have a client choose him for
their purposes.  No longer did he believe that he could find a way out of
this Hell.  He now understood that his life had changed and changed
irrevocably.  It didn't seem that long ago that he was living a normal
life, a job, a few friends, a place of his own.  He knew it had been real,
but it was now gone.  Bits and pieces from that life appeared
occassionally, but only as he caught glimpses of them when he would see one
of the Bosses wearing something that had once been his.  Now those things
were part of another person's life......not his.  He had fought giving in
to the absurdity of this reality, it simply couldn't be true, but he now
understood, finally, that it was true.  He was a slave.  He no longer had
the choice over anything in his life, save one.  He could decide by his
submission to these men, to continue living.  That he had done this
morning. He finally realized that he didn't prefer death to slavery, at
least not yet.......he wanted to live.  He would submit, he would be a
slave, and he would become desirable to a buyer, and get out of here.

	Jackson, the Boss in charge of getting 109 to Trainer, turned off
the main corridor leading to Trainer's rooms, and 109 knew immediately
where he was being taken.  There was a small preparation room that slaves
were brought to before they were presented to prospective buyers, or
Trainer or the Doctor.  That is where Jackson shoved 109 into with the
usual harsh words, "Get busy, you know what to do, so be quick about it.
Unless you want Mr. Trainer to get pissed about having to wait for you."

	109 quickly got to work.  Jackson was right, he knew what to do.
The whole room was like a bathroom in an RV in that the whole space was a
wet area.  109 quickly shoved an elongated metal nozzle up his ass then got
on his knees and brought his forehead to the floor.  The nozzle was
attached to a hose coming out of the wall with a faucet handle above it.
Jackson turned the handle and water started flowing into 109's upturned
ass.  109 knew that Jackson would leave the water on as long as he liked,
and then he knew that he would hold it in himself until Jackson gave him
permission to straddle the toilet only a couple of feet away.  109 had also
leaned from personal experience that Jackson could be particularly sadistic
in this ritual, and he hoped that today Jackson might give him a break.
But, as his abdomen began to fill with liquid and he felt his stomach
beginning to expand, he realized that today there would be no mercy for
him.  After what seemed an eternity Jackson turned the handle again and the
water stopped.  109 wasn't sure he could keep himself from exploding, but
he knew he had to try.  He concentrated every muscle in his body on holding
everything just as it was, especially his tightly closed sphincter.

	As Jackson slowly pulled the nozzle out of 109's ass, he remarked
darkly, "Of course you know the standing rule from Mr. Trainer, any slave
that releases his water before given permission to do so will automatically
be given to the Bosses for a little private party at their convenience, or
have you forgotten boi?"

	109 clinched every muscle in his body.....willing himself not to
lose a single drop as the nozzle was pulled out.  He would never forget
that night when he was the plaything of four of the Bosses at the same
time.  He remembered he could barely move his jaw the next day, his muscles
were so sore from holding his mouth open to their assaults as they filled
him with their cum, and their spit, and their piss.  The only time one of
them wasn't using his mouth for their foul purposes was when he would
decide it was time to fuck his ass again, or just enjoy watching him squirm
as they used an electric cattle prod on it.  109 had worked very hard not
to go through that again, but it seemed this time Jackson was setting him
up.  He couldn't remember ever feeling this full before.  Then it happened.
Despite all his efforts, he could feel a trickle of water running down
between his legs.  He almost started crying, but his concentration was so
complete that he simply continued to focus on keeping his ass closed as
tightly as he could.

	With a bit of satisfaction in his voice, Jackson told him, "Now get
over the toilet, but don't release until I tell you shitface, and it looks
like we'll be seeing you in the Bosses quarters real soon now boi."

	109 rushed to get in place, hoping that his haste would prompt
Jackson to let him release, but Jackson wasn't finished with him.  109 had
no way of knowing that Jackson was following Trainer's specific
instructions right now, and enjoying every minute of it.

	Once 109 was in position, Jackson leaned casually against the door
jam, folding his arms as if he were a friendly neighbor who had just
stopped by for a little chat.  109 didn't see any of this as he had
clinched his eyes closed as his face was distorted into a determined
grimace.

	"Look at me boi," Jackson snarled from his casual pose.

	109 opened his eyes and looked at the faux friendly face Jackson
was presenting to him.  Pleasant smile, casual stance and eyes as cold as
ice cycles stabbing his heart.  He knew he had no choice but to accept
whatever this man, or any man in charge of him, wanted to do to him.  He
would stand, struggling for control over his asshole, straddling that
toilet for as long as this man required him to.  And if Jackson told him,
he would do anything else Jackson wanted.  109 knew that now with a
certainty and finality that he had never before experienced, and Jackson's
cold stare told him that he knew it as well.

	Jackson continued to smile then in an off handed way simply said,
"Let it out boi, and get back into position.  I have a feeling it's going
to take a number of fillings to get you as clean as Mr. Trainer wants you."

	And with that 109 felt the wondrous relief of letting his body
expell all that water.  The fact that in about ninety seconds he would be
back on the floor being filled to capacity again wasn't lost on him, but
nothing could completely extinguish his pleasure of release.

	In all, Jackson filled 109 six times before he pronounced him
"barely" clean enough.  109 was then ordered to lather up his cock and
balls, his face, and his head and get shaved before soaping everywhere and
then having Jackson turn the overhead spray on.  Of course it was cold
water, slaves had to learn not to expect luxuries like hot water.  They
could enjoy that only if they were being used in the shower by a real man.

	In about thirty minutes 109 was clean, inside and out, still a
little wet, but air drying quickly.  It's funny how he no longer even
expected a towel after showering, understanding that those too were
luxuries wasted on slaves.  So many things had changed in his world, and
yet, he was still here, and now oddly hopeful for the first time in a good
while.  He never imagined that he would reach a point where he would begin
to hope that someone would buy him for their pleasure, then use him any way
they wanted, but that was the way out of here, and he was determined to
take it.  He knew that finally this shell would be take off from around his
neck, and that Trainer would either use it or put it away..........."Please
God."

	He and Jackson came to a stop in front of Trainer's door, and
Jackson knocked and waited for a response.  Once Trainer called out to
enter, they went in.  109 took the stance he had learned months ago, a lot
like Parade Rest for a soldier except each hand behind him was grasping the
opposite wrist and his head was at a slight angle, with his eyes cast
toward the floor, but up enough to respond to motions made by a master.
"Sir, where do you want him," Jackson asked.

	"Attach him to the St. Andrew's Cross in the other room.  I want
his back to the cross and since I'll be reading for a little while longer,
and I don't what him to think I'm not interested in him, hang the ten pound
weight from his balls and the twelve ounce weights from his tits.  And let
the others know I don't want to be disturbed for the rest of the day.  I'll
call you when I'm ready to send him back or for you to pick up the body."

	"Yes Sir," Jackson said as he led 109 into the other room to
prepare him for Trainer.

	Trainer returned to his seat and took up his book.  He wanted to
look calm and in complete control, and though her was certainly in complete
control, he was in fact, anything but calm.  This was the culmination of a
lot of work by both he and the Doctor, and how things went today would go a
long way in determining how they would do their work in the future.  Of
course, the added fact that if he could pull this off, it would make him
richer than he had ever dreamed, only added another layer of pressure which
he really didn't need right now.  The fact was that Trainer had brought 109
to this point in less than half the time that it usually took him.  More
importantly, he now believed he could achieve a level of subserviance with
any man, even beyond that of the most natural submissives.  If he could, he
knew the clientele that the Doctor had developed over the years, and the
others that would hear about it, would be willing to spend almost anything.
Add to that the fact that they could produce such a toy in less time than
they had dreamed possible, well it made the possibilities almost endless.
All this was churning in Trainer's mind and he realized that he needed to
focus right now, and leave the future to the future.  109 was his task
right now, and he was ready to give that task his full attention.

	He had divided the session into three parts, and each would take at
least two hours so he decided he should get started.  He went into the
other room and found a fearful 109 tied securely to the St. Andrew's Cross.
As he approached 109, he kept his eyes locked on 109's.  Each man knew this
would be a life or death session, one man had a pretty good idea what was
going to happen and how.  The other wouldn't have believed it was possible
if someone had told him in advance what would take place.  109 contained
his fear, but just barely, as he noticed that Trainer was carrying a
shotgun.

	Trainer was used to being an agent of terror and pain.  He knew the
power of those realities and he knew how to use them to control and
manipulate others.  He had terrorized and tortured 109 in the past, and so
109 was fully aware of what this man was capable of.  That knowledge was
also another element of power that Trainer now counted on moving 109 to the
goal Trainer had in mind.

	As Trainer calmly reached out to 109's chest and took hold of the
shotgun shell that rested there, 109 finally broke the silence, "Please
Sir, please........I'll never disobey you again.......I understand that I'm
to be a slave, but I can be a good slave Sir, please let me show you that I
can be a good slave........."  As 109 spoke tears had begun to fall down
his cheeks, ripples of fear were visible in his beautifully defined body.

	Yes, Trainer thought, he's magnificent, and he's about to become
truly remarkable.  But Trainer didn't speak, he simply gave the shell a
hard tug which broke it free from the lite chain that had held it around
109's neck, where it had been a constant reminder to 109 that he was as
close to death as he had ever been.

	"Please Sir, please.........don't do this........I can be a good
slave........please........" 109 continued to beg, as Trainer calmly loaded
the shell into the chamber of the shotgun and locked the barrel back into
firing position.

	Then with a calm that further unnerved a desperate 109, Trainer,
almost gently asked, "Do you think you can be a good slave and do what
you're told?"

	"Yes Sir," 109 wept, "I'll do whatever you want Sir, I'll never
give you a problem......please Sir, I'll be the best slave you've ever
trained," he continued as tears streamed down his ebony face.

	"Okay then," Trainer said matter of factly as he brought the end of
the barrel of the shotgun towards 109's face, "open your
mouth.........wide."

	All of a sudden the room went dead silent, even 109's weeping came
to an abrupt halt, as 109 realized the conundrum he now faced.  Panic came
into his eyes as he realized that to resist would show that he was refusing
to be the slave he said he could be, and if he opened his mouth then he was
one step closer to the shotgun being put there and used to blast the very
life out of him.  He let out a soft moaning wail as he struggled to decide
what he should do, and Trainer looked on with a look of determination in
his face.......he would have his way.  Slowly, with tears continuing down
his face and the moaning unresolved, 109 began to open his mouth.  His
mostly perfect white teeth glistened from the pink orafice framed by the
black skin as he hesitantly opened his mouth about an inch wide.

	"Now to do what I need to do here boi, you're going to have to open
wider than that.  Open your mouth wide boi, like you'd have to in order to
get 101's dick inside it," Trainer said forcefully while he held his stare
with 109's eyes.

	109 moaned a little louder.......it almost sounded like he was
saying words without the use of his lips or tongue, so nothing was
intelligible, but no one present could misunderstand the meaning.......as
109 continued to beg for his life, while he also tried to be an obedient
slave by opening his mouth further.  Forgotten were the weights on his
balls and tits that had been causing him such discomfort.  His whole being
was focused on this man in front of him, as, finally, with his mouth opened
wide enough, Trainer put the end of the shotgun barrel in 109's mouth until
109 could feel the round opening in the barrel with his tongue.  He was
beyond himself with fear now.  He felt the warmth of his own piss running
down his legs.  He had thought he would make it, that he would
survive....as a slave maybe, but he would still survive.  Now he didn't
know if he'd be alive past the next few minutes.

	Trainer held the gun in 109's mouth with his right hand, it was
awkward, but for a man his size and with his strength it was doable.  Then
with his left hand he grasped 109's ball sac that had been taunt from the
weight and started squeezing his balls.  109 hadn't thought his life could
get any worse, but it seemed there was no limit to the ingenuity and
meaness of this man.  He was still mumbling unintelligibly as tears ran
down his face, snot leaked out his nose, and saliva ran down the barrel of
the shotgun, only now he felt his gut being torn out from the pressure on
his balls.........maybe death would be better.......

	"Now listen to me, you piece of shit, and do what I tell you,"
Trainer said with a firmness that demanded response from 109, "shut the
fuck up, right now, or I'm ending all of it right here.  I don't want
another sound to come out of that cock sucking mouth of yours.  I want you
to listen to me, and listen good.  You say you're willing to be a good
slave, to do whatever you're told, well that doesn't mean shit to me you
stupid cunt.  I can make anybody do what I tell them.  There's nothing to
that, it's just power and terror in the right combination, and that'll make
a slave out of anybody, but that's not what I'm about here.  I want more
than that, and you'll give it to me or you're dead.  We start with you
doing whatever you're told around here boi, but we go a lot further than
that to make you what we want you to be.  That's why you have to obey
immediately when a real man tells you to do something.  I don't want you to
think about whether you'll respond or try and calculate how far you have to
go.......I want your immediate and complete obedience with all your soul.
If I can't have that, then I can stop wasting my time with you right now."

	Trainer's hand had continued to squeeze 109's nuts in a vice like
grip while he had spoken.  Yet, in spite of all the pain, 109 had heard
every word.  In it somewhere he realized that Trainer was trying to decide
if he would be worth the effort required to make him that kind of slave.
He wanted to tell Trainer he'd do anything, but chose to stay perfectly
quiet, since his last instruction was to remain so.  He finally realized
that a slave doesn't consider every command, a slave obeys, and the master
considers the consequences.  He couldn't start being a good slave for
Trainer tomorrow, or the next day, either he was a good slave or he wasn't.
A good slave would continue to obey the last command his master gave him,
regardless of the circumstances.  He would show Trainer that he didn't want
to become a good slave, but rather that he already was one.  He would have
to hope that Trainer would notice.

	"I know what you're thinking shithead, do you think this is the
first time I've had someone in this room like this.  Are you that stupid?
You're thinking I'll show him I can be a good slave, don't you get it yet?
I don't need for you to become a good slave, I need for you to become a
great slave so I can make you into what I really want you to become, a sex
toy.  A sex toy that someone will pay hundreds of thousands of dollars to
possess, and if you think you're close to that reality, let me ask you
something.  How many dicks have you sucked since you've been here?  How
many times has someone fucked you in your cunt?  Fact is, you couldn't tell
me the answer to either one of those questions because it has happened so
many times.  Now let me ask you another question.  How many dicks have you
sucked since you got here that you truly tried to give pleasure to the man
attached to that dick?  How many times have you done more than just prayed
it would soon be over and given yourself completely to the man you were
servicing, done everything you could think of to make it the most
pleasurable experience that man ever had?  Huh....how many times?  You know
the answer if you think about it, don't you, not once, and you're telling
me that you can be a good slave.  Bullshit!"

	109 felt a chill go through him as he realized that Trainer was
right, but it was an unfair statement.  He hadn't asked to become a slave.
He'd been abducted and cruelly held against his will and made to do
unspeakable things routinely, but he had endured.  Only now, Trainer was
saying that enduring wasn't enough......he hadn't really tried to be a good
slave.  That wasn't fair, it was an unreasonable expectation, only he
wasn't in a position to argue his defense.

	"I know," Trainer said again, "I can read it in your eyes.  You
want to tell me this was all forced on you, this wasn't your choice, it's
not fair to expect that of you under these circumstances.  Right?!  Let me
ask you something cuntface, how many people are told every day that they
have cancer?  They think, how is it possible, not me, it's not fair, but
guess what......they still have cancer.  How many people have a loved one
drop dead of a heart attack, and they say, it's not fair, they were in good
health, but they're still dead.  Fair doesn't have shit to do with it.  I
told you the first day you arrived here that you were a slave.  That was
months ago, and absolutely nothing has happened to you that would indicate
that was a false statement.  Quite the opposite, everything that has
happened to you has affirmed that statement, and still you're lost in an
issue of fairness.  You're a breath away from death, and you still don't
get it.  So I'm going to say this one last time......pay attention now, YOU
ARE A SLAVE!!!  And the only issue before us now is whether you're worth
further training or would I be ahead to just cut my losses."

	The room grew silent as Trainer held the gun in 109's mouth and
continued to apply pressure to his pain ridden balls.  109 knew the moment
had come, and there was nothing he could do about it, he couldn't even beg.
He just waited to see what his future would be.  The moment seemed to last
forever, and during it he knew exactly what he would say to Trainer if he
was ever allowed to speak again.  He waited, tears running down his face,
agony radiating from his groin to every part of his body.  Then, it was
almost imperceptible, but he thought he felt the gun move
slightly........out, out of his mouth.  He was careful not to move as the
pain from his nuts became almost unbearable.  Finally, the barrel of the
shotgun was out of his mouth and Trainer lowered the mouth of the gun
downward to the floor, but kept his grip on 109's balls as he continued to
stare into his eyes.

	Carefully, not wanting to upset this man in any way, 109 asked
submissively, "Sir, may I speak?"

	"I wonder what a worthless piece of shit like you could have to say
that would be of any interest to me," Trainer said, then waited, but 109
was careful not to speak until he had been given permission.  "Speak
slave."

	"Sir, please, please, make me a better slave.  Teach me what I need
to know to please you in any way you desire, and to please any man that I'm
privileged to serve.  Please Sir, teach me, make me the kind of slave you
would be proud to say, 'I trained him.'  Please Sir."

	Trainer let the words wash over him like the garlands of the victor
after a battle.  For indeed, he had been engaged in a war with 109, and
this particular victory was very sweet, although he knew it had to be
combined with another before he would reach his goal.  But the victory here
was that for the first time, 109 had not spoken of "becoming" a slave, he
had not used the future tense.  For the first time he had refered to
himself as a slave in the here and now.  The only reference to the future
was the request to become an even better slave.  He had won the battle for
his body when he had been delivered to him by Watts, now he had won the
battle for his mind, he had yet to when the battle for his soul, and that's
the one he wanted the most.  That was the battle that would begin right
now.


I hope you are enjoying the story.  Don't worry, we'll be back to 115 very
soon, but I wanted to give you a glimpse of where 115 is headed so we can
enjoy his journey........even if he won't.  This chapter and the next have
more of the psychological element because so much of sex, especially BDSM,
has a psychological aspect.

As usual I solicit your responses and criticisms in helping me make this a
better story.  If you write, let me know where you're from, it's fun to see
how spread out you guys are.  Still looking for that younger submissive.
You could be the one I work my scene out with.....mmmmmm.