Date: Tue, 6 Jan 2009 09:56:05 -0500
From: James True <duncan_true@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Merchandise Part 4

This story is copyright 2009 by James True. The following is a work of
fiction, and it involves sexual situations between men. The author
appreciates any and all feedback about the story and the events depicted,
as well as the general subject matter of sexual slavery.  I hope you enjoy
the story.

The Merchandise

Chapter 4

Jim didn't know how long he'd be left there in the cell. Then the thought
occurred to him that he had no access to food or water. Maybe Paul was
indeed some psycho who, now that he has humiliated him, plans to just leave
him there to die. Shouting would do no good, he knew. No one else was in
the entire building. No one but Paul would hear him. Now that the high from
his orgasm was wearing off, Jim knew he had to escape. Paul was some
pervert interested in sex games. He'll be back for more. Jim tried the door
to the cell, but it was locked and would not move. Jim could not reach the
padlock locking him in. He tried the bars around the cage, but they were
tight and would not budge. Jim sat down on the floor of the cell (there was
no furniture, and the 4 x 4 size of the cell precluded any other position
than standing and sitting) to decide what he would do next, and realized
there was nothing he could do.

Jim then noticed again the toilet at the far corner of the room and
realized he hadn't gone to the bathroom since he woke up this morning. He
felt the need to urinate, but tried to ignore it. How many hours will he
have to hold it? Well, one thing he knew...he would not further humiliate
himself by pissing on the floor of this small cell. At least he had done a
bowel movement when he got up that morning, so he wouldn't need to do that
again till tomorrow, probably.

How many hours later, Jim had no idea, but Paul did indeed come back. He
was carrying a bag, but Jim could not see what was in it.

"I've spent part of this time watching you on the nanny-cam, boy," Paul
said. Jim started to wonder if Paul had those nanny-cams all over the
house. "I'm glad to report that I'm happy at your behavior. You did not
helplessly rattle the bars on your cage like others have done. Oh, I saw
you test the door, but of course, that's to be expected. But when you
discovered you could not escape, you did not waste energy fighting the
cell. You show great intelligence, boy."

Jim didn't say anything. He alternated between hating Paul for humiliating
and imprisoning him, and feeling anticipation for what would happen
next. He felt his cock starting to get stiff again, and thought it best to
get his mind on something else.

"When are you going to release me, Paul? I gotta pee," Jim said.

A disappointed look came over Paul. "Now, boy. I know this is your first
day of training, so I am trying to be understanding and forgiving. But you
have to remember the most basic rule: Never call me by my
name. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," Jim responded. But Paul could detect a sarcastic tone on the
"sir." Jim was testing him.

"Watch your tone, boy. This is not a game. You belong to me now. And there
is a limit to my patience and understanding. Let me be perfectly clear. You
are a nobody. You know no one, and no one knows where you are. Even if they
did, no one cares about you. You ran away from home. No one there cares for
you. No one in this city cares for you or even knows you are here. No
one. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Jim responded, this time the sarcasm was replaced by a touch of
fear and anxiety. Paul was right about all that. He was indeed alone. No
one would come to rescue him.

"Good," Paul said. He reached into his bag and brought out an empty
jar. "Now, you are going to have to learn to better control your bodily
functions. You pee when I allow you. You shit only when I allow you. But I
understand this is all new to you. I will let you pee now." He handed the
jar through the bars of the cage. "You can pee into the jar."

Jim looked at the jar, and slowly took it from Paul's hand. He is going to
have to pee in front of him. More humiliation. If he didn't have to pee so
badly, he would have thrown the jar back at Paul. But instead, he lowered
it to his groin and pointed his penis to the jar. Slowly, a small trickle
of pee started to come out, then a bit more. This was embarrassing. But
what could he do? Jim closed his eyes, hoping that by not seeing Paul watch
him, it would help. Finally, a steady stream came out and soon the jar was
three-quarters full.

Jim finished, and started to hand the jar to Paul through the bars. "Thank
you," he said, adding "sir" pointedly.

"Surely you don't expect me, your master, to touch the piss of a slave?
Drink it."

"What? You're joking. No way."

"I never joke, boy. You have to learn discipline. You have to learn to
follow my commands unquestioningly. If you ever hope to leave that cage,
drink your piss." Paul said forcibly.

Paul's tone frightened Jim. He knew he had no choice. Paul was clearly in
command and Jim was helpless. Naked, and locked in a cage. With a jar of
his own piss. Slowly, Jim brought the jar up to his lips. No, he
decided. There were limits. He would not do this. He threw the jar down,
spilling the contents on the floor.

"Very well," Paul said. "You obviously like that cage. You will stay there
until you learn to obey." Paul turned and walked down the stairs, closing
the door to the rest of the house, turning off the light. Jim was alone in
the room, in the dark. He was immediately sorry he dumped the urine as it
made a puddle on the floor of the cage. Jim had to stand in a very small
space to keep from getting his feet wet.

As time passed, the puddle of urine started to dry. But it also
smelled. And Jim could not get away. His legs were tired of standing in one
spot, and finally he had to sit down. And he could feel the wetness of the
floor on his ass-cheeks and legs and feet. Here he was, forced to sit in
his own urine. And, he realized, he hasn't had anything to eat since the
very small breakfast (that he ate off the floor) that morning. Jim did not
know what time it was, but thought it must be at least mid-afternoon.

Jim did not know how many hours later it was that Paul finally returned to
the top floor, with a mop and bucket of water and some bleach. Jim stood
up. Paul said, "I'm very disappointed in you, boy. I know it is early in
your training, but it is imperative that you learn your place, to obey
commands unquestioningly. Normally, your act of defiance would be severely
punished," Paul said as he glanced to the far wall. Jim's gaze followed
Paul's, and he again saw the whips and paddles hanging there. "But as this
is your first day, I am lenient. But be aware that there is a limit. Now,
mop up your cell."

Paul opened the door and placed the mop and bucket inside, then closed the
door again. Jim took them and started mopping the floor, grateful for the
opportunity. As it was a small cell, the floor was very quickly
cleaned. "Now I will let you clean yourself up." With that, Paul once again
opened the door, took Jim's hand, and led him to the small sink in the
corner. Handing him some soap and a cloth, Paul told Jim to clean himself
up, which he promptly did. It felt good to get the dried piss washed off
himself. He felt clean once again.

Paul then led Jim to what looked like a large wooden X next to the
wall. Without speaking, Paul took Jim's right hand and raised it. Before
Jim knew what was happening, his right wrist was in a leather cuff attached
to one of the arms of the X. Paul then quickly took Jim's left arm and
cuffed that to the other arm. Jim opened his mouth to protest, but when he
did, Paul shoved a rolled up sock into his mouth, and secured it with duct
tape. "This will help you keep quiet, boy," he said. All Jim could do now
is make unintelligible sounds. Jim started to panic, and started kicking
with his legs. But he was kicking at air. Because of the wrist restraints,
he was unable to position himself to kick at anything else.

Paul bent down and grabbed Jim's ankles, and quickly attached them to the
X. Jim was thoroughly held, spreadeagle on the cross. "Now for your lesson
in hygiene and appearance, boy. Fortunately you don't have much body hair,
but what you do have has to be removed. Slaves should be completely
smooth. This time, I will shave your pubic hairs, but in the future, you
will learn to do it yourself."

Jim was helpless. He tried to protest, but with the gag in his mouth, all
he could utter were unintelligible mumbles. He tried to squirm out of the
wrist and ankle cuffs, but to no avail. He was about to be shaved of all
his body hair, and he was helpless to prevent it.

Paul took a can of shaving cream, and smeared some cream over Jim's two
armpits. These he then shaved with a straight razor. Next he smeared cream
over Jim's cock and balls, and the pubic hairs on the groin. "Don't move,
now, boy. I don't think you will want me to slip and nick you."

Paul started shaving the pubic hairs on the groin first, then worked
down. He lifted Jim's cock and started shaving the small hairs on it and
the balls, and noticed that Jim's cock started getting hard. "I see you are
enjoying this, boy. Very good." Jim didn't think he was enjoying this, but
he had to admit to himself that he was getting an erection. He blamed it on
Paul's touch, but why would a man's touch give him an erection? What was
going on?

Paul continued shaving, then when he was finished, bent down and kissed
Jim's cock and balls. "Very beautiful." He stepped back to observe his work
on the now near- hairless body of his slave. It was quite a sight, seeing
his boy spreadeagled on the cross, hairless, and with a hard-on that stood
out even more without the pubic hairs.

"You get to keep the curly hair on the top of your head, because it is so
beautiful, although some masters want a truly hairless slave. But I think
it would be a shame to get rid of that beautiful head of hair."

Paul continued to look at his slave. "What should we do about your hard-on?
Do you want relief?" Jim refused to respond, either by shaking his head yes
or no, or by mumbling into the gag. He didn't want to give Paul any
satisfaction. But Paul went on anyway, saying, "Well, you are going to have
to earn that. You have to make up for your failure to follow commands
earlier today."

With that, Paul released Jim's ankles from the cross, then his arms,
rubbing them to bring back any circulation that might have been hindered by
the position. Paul then pushed Jim to his knees. Now that Paul's attention
was away from Jim's cock, it started to soften.  Paul drew up a stool and
sat on it. "My boots are dirty and need cleaning. As a slave, one of your
regular tasks is ensuring your master's clothes are clean. So you are going
to clean the dirt from my boots." Paul removed Jim's gag, and then shoved
one booted foot in front of him. "You will, of course, use your tongue to
clean my boots."

Jim hesitated, and leaned back, away from the boot, saying quite loudly,
"NO!" Paul reached out and slapped his face hard, leaving a red mark.

"You are a stubborn little nothing. But you know you will give in. You have
to. You are nothing but a slave, a nobody having to obey my commands. Do
you understand?"

Jim decided he must put a stop to this. "NO!" he shouted defiantly.

This infuriated Paul. "You ungrateful little piece of shit." Paul went to
the wall and grabbed a whip. He approached Jim, hand raised, ready to use
it if necessary.

Jim reeled back, "NO! Please don't!" Paul brought the whip down onto Jim's
back with a crack. Jim gave out a yell. "Please! That stings!" Paul brought
the whip down a second time, and Jim yelled out again. "Please! I'm sorry!"

"Are you going to clean my boots?"

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir."

"And what are you?"

"I'm a slave, sir, a nobody."

Paul calmed down. "Good boy." Paul took some handcuffs from the wall, and
cuffed Jim's hands behind his back. "Because of your defiance, the job will
be more difficult,." he said. He once again sat on the stool, and stuck one
foot out. Jim knelt down again, almost losing his balance because he could
not use his hands, and started licking Paul's boot. As he licked, Jim could
smell the leather, and found it quite pleasing. He tasted the leather, and
found it an interesting sensation.

Paul explained to Jim as he licked, "Good boy. I'm sorry I had to do what I
did. I take no pleasure in punishing you. But there are people out there
who would whip you regularly, or do much worse. This is a rough city. You
are lucky I found you and took you in before you were snatched by some
cruel shit that likes to prey on helpless runaways. I am a firm master, but
not cruel. I will only whip you if you deserve severe punishment. If I
hadn't found you, you would likely be dead within a week. Do you
understand?"

"Yes, sir," Jim replied between licks. This wasn't as bad as Jim first
imagined. The boots weren't really very dirty at all, anyway.

"And you understand that you are lucky to have me as your master?"

"Yes, sir, I am lucky to have you as my master," Jim said, not wanting to
anger Paul again.

"And that you will be punished when you disobey orders? That you will be
whipped, and whipped more than the two lashed you just received?"

"Yes sir."

"Very good, boy. You are doing a good job."

Jim continued licking both boots until they were clean. Then Paul stood
up. "You did well for a first day, boy. You will soon learn that defiance
is not good and will be punished. As you improve in your position, you will
be given various rewards. But not today. You fought against every command
you were given. You get no rewards today," Paul took Jim's handcuffs off,
and then took him by the arm, and placed him back in his cell, closing and
locking the door. Then Paul reached into the bag he had brought up and took
out a strange-looking device Jim had never seen before.

"Another important thing for you to learn is that you can only cum when I
allow you to cum. This device will help ensure that." Paul reached into the
cage and placed the device around Jim's cock and balls, then padlocking it
so it could not be removed. "This is a male chastity device. You will not
be able to touch your penis or gratify yourself in any way while wearing
this. You can, of course, still urinate when needed." Paul placed a bucket
in the cell. "This is for your use when you have pee or shit. Don't worry,
I won't force you to eat or drink that tonight. Now sit down and
relax. I'll bring up some food for your dinner later." With that, Paul went
back downstairs, leaving Jim alone with his thoughts.

Jim looked down, trying to examine the chastity device as best he could. He
could find no way of removing it. He had never seen anything like this
before. He had heard of chastity belts for women that men back in the
middle ages used to ensure their wives' purity while they went off to the
Crusades, but had never heard of something like this that would prevent a
man from touching his own cock.

True to his word, Paul soon came back upstairs, carrying a tray with
sandwiches and water. Paul was able to get them into the cell through a
wide slot on the door along the floor. Jim was grateful, as he was both
hungry and thirsty. "Thank you," he said.

Paul replied, "What, boy? I didn't hear you."

"I said, Thank you for the food." Then, remembering from before, added
"Sir."

"You're welcome, boy. Your health and nourishment are important, you
know. That is why I hate it when you have to be disciplined. Exercise is
also important, which is why I have the bowflex and treadmill up here. You
will be expected to use them regularly to keep up those fine muscles."

"Yes, sir."

"I am also aware that you are not used to sleeping on a floor. I know it
takes some getting used to. Sleeping on beds can spoil one. But I brought
up a few pillows that will help you get comfortable. And I realize the cage
is a bit small for sleeping, but you are intelligent. I'm sure you will be
able to find a way of stretching out to sleep."

"Yes sir."

"Good. Get some rest, then. Tomorrow you will continue with your
training. I expect great things from you." Paul went back downstairs,
turning off the lights and leaving Jim in the dark with his thoughts.

Jim finished eating, and then realized he had no method of brushing his
teeth. Sitting in the dark, with nothing to do, Jim quickly figured out
that by lying down diagonally in the small cell, he can stick his legs out
between the bars of the cage, and thus lie down flat. Not very comfortable,
but better than trying to sleep in a sitting position on the floor. Jim had
no idea what tomorrow would bring. But Paul was right about at least one
thing. He came to the city knowing no one. He has no place to go. No one
knows where he is. He has no marketable talents. He is just some hick from
the country who could easily have become the prey of people willing to hurt
him or worse. In that, he figured he was lucky to find Paul, who at least
did not seem to want to be cruel. Maybe by following orders and avoiding
discipline, he will survive. With one pillow under his head, and wrapping
his arms around another pillow, holding it to his chest like a teddy bear,
Jim fell into a fitful sleep.

Downstairs, Paul gave his boss a call. "Yes, his first day of training went
well, considering it was a first day." There was a pause as he listened to
his boss. "That soon?" he asked. "Very well. Should be no problem," he
said, and he hung up.


To be continued.

Comments on this story are greatly appreciated.