Date: Sat, 25 Oct 2003 00:12:45 -0700 (PDT)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: Story: A Slave's Life, Part 6

A SLAVE'S LIFE, Part 6

By Pete Brown petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

Read all of Pete's stories at
groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories

I woke up with a start, as a hand slapped my naked arse. All of the others
were standing around, rubbing their eyes, and at least half of them were,
like me, erect with their cocks jutting harshly forward out of our cinch
rings. We all looked as if we'd been sleeping, and my fellows were rubbing
their eyes, and stretching their muscles.

Stu, the young water boy, was doing the rounds, and when it was my turn I
gratefully sucked a deep draught of the warm, bitter water.

My whole body ached. It was like the day after a very hard game, when you
know you've got to go to the gym, but you'd rather not! On those days I
usually cheated a bit, cutting back on the number of reps and so on, but
now I realised there would e no faking it: in spite of the ache all over
me, I'd have to work all the long afternoon, and work hard, too, if the
group was to avoid punishment.

I suppose it's amazing what you can make yourself do, especially when
you're "encouraged" by the whip! In spite of what he'd said, the Overseer
seemed to spend most of his time adjacent to me, so if there was any letup
in the way I was working, it was me who got the whip across my back, bum ad
thighs. The constant stinging pain from the strokes only added to my misery
- the ache from all my muscles, and the burning sensation from all over me
where the sun was striking through the sun block. I began to realise the
power that a man holding a whip has over a naked man - there's no way you
can prevent the tail of the thing striking your flesh, no clothing to
cushion the sharpness of it. You just have to endure, especially as any
sound resulted in another stroke. My body jerked each time a blow struck,
but it really did spur me on - even though I was dog tired and my muscles
were all screaming for relief, I worked on and on.

I saw that having the Overseer looking at such a small number of slaves
really did pay dividends - I'm certain that they got much more work out of
the nine of us than they would have if we'd only been eight slaves and they
economised by not having an Overseer.

We toiled on and on, and through my sweat-streaked eyes I finally saw
relief approaching - the shadows got longer and longer, and I knew it must
be getting close to sunset. Finally, the end did come, and the Overseer
came and told us we could stop.

Under his supervision we had to collect all the tools into a neat pile,
then form up into two rows of four. I stood there surrounded by my fellow
slaves, and could smell the strong man scent of work- induced sweat pouring
off them, and could almost feel the exhaustion radiating from us all. We
were all breathing hard still from our exertions, but our trials were not
over: the Overseer made us run back towards the building complex in the
middle of the estate - all eight of us had to run in step, I discovered
when I broke ranks and got a touch of the whip for it! After all that day's
work, it was almost beyond endurance - but I later realised it was all part
of the owner's plan to keep us in a state of physical perfection: you use
quite different muscles running than you do when you're working, and so
this was another opportunity to keep us fully toned up. I began to realise
some of the advantages of being "cinched", too - on the odd occasion when
I've run naked in the past, my balls have slapped against my thighs and
it's hurt - now I could run with my fellows and they were neatly tucked up
out of the way (although having the heavy ring at the base of my cock did
make it feel very strange as my cock bounced up and down in time to my
steps).

We arrived back at the central complex and the Overseer ordered us to halt
whilst he went inside. We stood there, breathing hard and sweating, and the
guys all obviously knew what was expected as they stood there in two rows
of four, not moving, just waiting.

The Overseer came out eventually, and ordered us in - the code tattooed on
our shoulders was scanned as we passed through the entrance, so I suppose
they kept a record of which slaves had returned, in case any had tried to
escape. We were in a wide corridor, and we marched in our formation onto a
large grill set into the floor.

"Down!", the Overseer commanded, and I had to copy what all the other s
were doing - I squatted down, then pulled my arse cheeks apart. This was a
communal crapping!

I couldn't do it! I've never crapped in front of anyone before.  It's one
of those private things you do by yourself, isn't it? In the middle of a
group of naked guys, squatting over a grille, I just couldn't let go. The
Overseer was watching, and came up and said "Better do it, Jon, boy. It's a
long night, and if you have to crap in your quarters, you won't be very
popular with your mates!"

So I tried, and I shut my eyes to try to blot out the sight of the other
naked men crapping around me. But I couldn't shut out the sound of the tiny
grunts and sighs that came from them as they let go, or stop the smell that
rose from the sewer under the grill from assailing my nose. Actually, in
spite of myself, I did manage to crap, although I hardly pissed at all - in
spite of the amounts I'd been drinking all day I guess I'd sweated so much
that there was nothing left inside me to get rid of.

They let us shower next - it was incredible to have the water cascading
over my body that was now acing from its exertions and extremely sore from
where the harsh sun had beaten through the sun block - although "cascading"
was hardly the right term - there were only four shower heads for the eight
of us, and the water really only trickled out of them: how I longed for the
kind of deluge a power shower gives you! I suspected that even this meagre
water supply wasn't going to last long, as the other guys didn't wait for
one to use the shower, then a second to get under it - they all clustered
together, and started to soap each other frantically as the evidently knew
time was short.

Now I'm not shy about showering with other men, of course, as I did it all
the time at the Club. But there was always plenty of room there, and it was
nothing at all like the huddle of hot, sweaty bodies writhing together in
the very confined space of the showers here. Indeed, it was almost a point
of honour not to touch another guy in our showers at the Club - it was OK
to be close to your mates in the communal bath after a match, but that was
different. When you were just showering after a practice, or a session in
the gym, it was absolutely no touching. So I stood back a bit, wondering
what to do.

I edged towards the huddle of nude men, and gingerly started to soap
myself, using some of the water splashing off their bodies to avoid getting
too close. But at once a guard, who had been patrolling along the corridor,
shouted at me.

"Get in there, slave! How dare you start to touch yourself. Slaves tend to
each other, and it's forbidden to start to enjoy your own body!"

All the others looked at me, and one of the guys kind of reached out and
beckoned to me, then, as I got closer, put his arm around me and pulled me
into the group. Quickly I felt soapy hands sliding all over me, and I
realised that three of them were cleaning me, running their hands over my
pecs, down my back, up and down my legs, and then, even into my ass
crack. I went to turn away, but there were bodies and hands whichever way I
turned. I wanted to tell them to stop, to leave me alone, but I knew of the
prohibition on speaking, so said nothing. They didn't seem to recognise how
uncomfortable all this was making me, or, if they did, they didn't care, as
they just carried on. Then, to my horror, I felt a soapy hand grab hold of
my cock and give it a few quick strokes, followed by that feeling of
helplessness you get when your balls are cupped in another guys hands! I
wanted to pull away, but was scared it might do me damage, so I just stood
there.

It was only a "mechanical" process, though - the guys didn't seem really
intent on doing anything sexual. I soon realised that this was how they had
to do it - if there's only a limited space, and a limited time, and you're
forbidden to touch yourself, how else are you going to get clean?

We all stood there under the drizzle of water, planing hands down each
others' bodies to get the soap off - I even joined in, as it seemed so
harmless, so asexual. I'd felt other guys' bodies before, of course, as in
the rucks you can't help but be aware of the muscles of all your team mates
as they strain around you. And when you're in the communal bath, you
obviously touch each other. But this was different - running your hands all
over another guy to make sure you cover ever inch of him to get the soap
off means that you touch all of him - I felt the hard tone of pecs, the
little shock as nipples touched my hand, the ridges of stomachs toned by
hard work, the power of the huge muscles in the bum, and then, because I
wasn't really paying all that much attention to what I was doing, I felt
the silky smoothness of another guy's cock. I stopped at once, of course,
and jerked my hand away - but the feel of that soft yet strong muscle was
so different from anything else I'd ever touched that a tiny thrill ran
thorough me.

All too soon the water was turned off, and we spilled out from the area and
stood there with the water dripping off us.  They didn't give us any towels
or anything, but we soon began to dry in the hot arid air. The guard
snapped an order, and we formed up into our two by four formation again and
marched off. The guard stopped in front of one of a number of barred doors
leading off the corridor, opened it with a key, and we went in. The door
clanged shut behind us, and at once the guys all began to speak... "Hey,
Jon, I'm Craig....", "Tony, man...", "Sam...." The total prohibition on
speech evidently didn't apply here.

They were all grinning and smiling, and slapping me on the back in
welcome. Things only calmed down a it when the guard appeared at the bars
of the door and thrust in sixteen of the slave biscuits that seemed to be
our only food, and we all champed hungrily on them - I'd found them bland
and tasteless before, but now, after really working hard all day, I was so
glad to have anything at all to eat that I tore at them and champed away
with the same enthusiasm that all my fellows did.

Looking around I saw that we were in a very tiny space - it was utterly
bare except for the bars on the door. The floor was faintly cushioned and
covered in some sort of plastic, there was a light fitting on the ceiling,
and on one wall one of the tongue-action taps I'd seen before to give us
drinking water. As they stood there and chatted to me, the other guys were
anyway lining up to suck away at the tap, taking in great draughts of the
warm, brackish water, and I realised I wanted to do the same, too.

Gradually, from the excited chatter, I learned that we were all here
together for the night, as we would be every night - there was only just
room but, it was explained to me, it didn't matter as the cool nights meant
that you needed to be huddled up against your mates in order to keep
warm. This time, in our cell at night, was also the only time that we were
allowed to speak, and they were all telling me how I really had to learn to
keep quiet during the day to avoid the whole team being punished.

Strangely, they didn't seem at all interested in world events. They wanted
to know how I'd been "taken", how much I'd fetched at the sale, but I had
no idea what they were talking about.  "When you were auctioned", Craig
explained to me, "How high did the bidding go?"

"I wasn't auctioned - they said they 'took me to order' and I was brought
straight here..."

"So you didn't go through one of the auction houses, didn't have to stand
there whilst all the prospective purchasers handled you....  lucky guy!"

It was only after I'd been a slave for some time that I realised what was
going on - events in "the world" no longer had any meaning for me - it was
all too remote, and made no difference at all to my life. Things happening
in London or New York might just as well have been on a different planet,
as there was absolutely no way that it seemed to affect me. And when you
spend all your time slaving away totally naked, just eating slave biscuits,
you forget you were ever interested in clothes, or food, or "stuff" like
stereos and cars! So they didn't want to know about "the news", but how
much I'd been bought for was of huge interest because it told them how much
our owner was willing to spend on the group - if we were all very high
priced and continued to be very valuable, they argued, there was less
likelihood of us being sent to the organ banks, or sold to the mines.  I
learned that in the hierarchy of things I did have to worry about, I needed
to do everything I could to avoid being whipped for not performing my work
properly. Then I had to be concerned about the possibility of my owner
"selling me on" to somewhere far worse - everyone feared the mines, as it
was known that once you disappeared down the big hole in the ground, you
never came up again - not ever! You lived and died in the total darkness
down below, and never saw the sun again. And worst of all was the
possibility that you might so annoy your owner that he's sell you to the
organ traders - I don't know whether the tales I heard were apocryphal or
true, but even hearing rumours of being tied permanently to a bed with
tubes to feed and drain me, whilst my organs were "harvested", one after
the other to satisfy rich clients' orders, was enough to send shivers all
through me.

That first night I was faintly astonished, I suppose, at exactly how little
interest they all paid in me - after all, I had outside knowledge, I could
tell them so much... But they weren't interested, and it was because those
things no longer mattered to them. They, in turn, had little to tell me: I
tried asking what life as a work slave was like, but they all just
shrugged, and said "like today."  As my time there went on, I came to
realise what they meant - every day was just like all the others as we
woke, ate, crapped, then worked, rested, crapped, ate and slept! The
routine never changed, and all that differed from day to day was our work
assignment - and they all had the same characteristics: they were all hard
manual labour, and we were "encouraged" by the whip to work away at them as
hard as we possibly could. Our days consisted of a slight continual hunger
as our bodies always craved more food than we were given, and huge efforts
to avoid the sharp crack of the whip over our naked bodies - nothing else
mattered, after a time.

Such chatter a we'd had soon began to subside, and I realised it was
because the other guys were, like me, absolutely exhausted.  Gradually we
all sank to the floor, and I saw that this is where we were going to spend
the night. I'd felt cramped in the confined space standing up, but as we
tried to stretch out, it was clear that it wasn't possible at all to keep
even a tiny gap between you and the guys on either side of you - I was
going to be in close, intimate contact with these other men all night.

The light dimmed, and our cell was now only illuminated by the lights from
the corridor outside coming in through the barred doors. I tried to move
myself so that I had as much space as possible, but I could feel the warmth
of my companions pressing in to me, and they seemed to be totally
unconcerned - I even felt the wiry brush of pubic hair, and the touch of a
cock, against my thigh, and I instinctively drew away - only to find myself
pushing my own cock into the guy on the other side of me!

The first man to speak to me, Craig, was on one side of me and as we
shuffled around to try to maximise our comfort, he kind of half whispered
"Remember, Jon, you're forbidden to touch yourself for pleasure - that
light fitting in the ceiling is also a camera, and if they see your trying
to jerk of or anything, they'll send a shock through the floor that will
hurt us all. So if you want to wank yourself, don't.... But I'd be glad to
do it for you....."

"Hey, no! I'm not a fag!"

"Look, Jon, the sooner you forget all that rubbish the better. We all live
together here, and the only bit of pleasure we get is from each other. So
stop being a silly cunt..."

As he said this, I felt his hand cupping my balls, and I struggled to get
away from him. But of course I was "locked in" by the presence of the other
guys all around, and the man behind hissed "For fuck's sake, stop
wriggling...."

Craig's hand tightened around my balls, and I cried "No. Stop that.  Get
off me!"

The next moment there was uproar. I felt hands gliding all over me, and
Craig was saying "Let's show Jon how we spend our free time, shall we,
guys?"

One of the men - Tony - vaulted across me and straddled my chest.  As I lay
there helpless under him all I could see in front of my face was his
gigantic cock and balls, and I could feel his hot naked ass pressing into
my chest. Craig's hand had was now stroking my balls, and someone else was
doing something to my cock - there was a hot, moist sensation all around
it, and the most incredible feeling coming from my cock head. In spite of
the flood of sensations almost totally overpowering my brain, somewhere
something inside me told me what was happening - I was getting a blow job.
And as there were only men in here, it must be one of the other guys who
was doing those things to my cock - I'd managed to persuade some of the
women I'd been with to blow me occasionally, but this seemed wholly
different.

Other hands were stroking me all over, and a finger was probing into my
navel, causing me to try to buck and writhe to make it go away.  Another
hand was in between my thighs, and I suddenly felt a warm, moist
"something" - a finger I realised - probing at my ass hole!

"No, stop it....."

Tony shuffled forwards so that his cock was right over my mouth, and as I
continued to try to protest, he rubbed his cock head all over my lips. I
clamped them together and twisted my head from side to side trying to get
away, but he just laughed and said "Come on, Jon... Time for your first
taste of cock. Come on, be a good boy...  Open your mouth, and take it
down..."

I kept my mouth tightly closed, but even so I began to experience him - the
feeling of his hot manhood against my lips and my face: he was holding his
erect cock around the root now, and slapping each of my cheeks with
it. And, as he pressed closer to me, that special man scent that only comes
from the sweat glands all around the balls filled my nostrils.

I was trying to buck even harder now as one (or two?)  Guys had hold of my
nipples and were rolling them around between their fingers - I never knew
how sensitive I was there before, and I wanted to cry out to tell them to
stop as it was hurting - or was it really hurting?.... Was it just a
pleasurable sensation, the like of which I'd never known before? But I knew
that if I opened my mouth Tony would push his cock in, and there was just
no way that I was going to have that!

I knew I was erect, and the guy who now had his hand on my cock had skinned
me back and was raking across my sensitive cock head with a finger nail. I
wanted to scream to get this stopped, too, but somehow it was turning me on
- I had a massive, hard erection and as he moved from his touching of me to
start a gentle wanking, moving my 'skin up and down over my cock head, I
almost groaned with pleasure. No one had ever done this to me before except
me - somehow all the women I'd been with just didn't seem to want to play
with my cock, and I now knew what I'd been missing all these years.

The pain from m nipples subsided, but something else was going on - oh no,
they were being sucked and nibbled! I'd done this to my women, of course,
and now I began to see what it did to the body, and just how exciting it
could be.

The combination of the wanking, sucking, caressing, and general scratching
was too much for me - my balls were aching for release, and I knew that if
it all didn't stop soon, I'd shoot.  And I knew that if I shot, it would go
everywhere - I always shoot a huge load, and after several days abstinence,
it would be massive! I'd cover all the guys in my cum... No, I couldn't let
that happen... So I opened my mouth and half cried, half moaned "No...
Stop...  Please... I'm going to cum... "

But as my lips parted, Tony reached down and pressed his thumb and finger
into the side of my open mouth so that I couldn't close it, and then pushed
his cock in to me!

I'll always remember that first experience of taking a cock - the heat of
it, the faint taste of his sweat, the smell of his genitals filling my
nose, and now, as he pushed it home, the sheer difference between the feel
of a cock in your mouth and anything else I'd ever known. Well, there's
nothing like it, is there? Hard and rigid, yet soft and somehow mild. The
way the flange is thick and meaty, and the shaft is smooth and subtle. In
spite of my initial revulsion, my tongue couldn't help exploring it and I
started to get something else - a mild salty taste.... Oh no, Jesus Christ
no.... I wasn't the only one about to cum.... Was this pre-cum I could
taste?

I tried to spit his cock out, force it away with my tongue, but Tony only
pressed down and started to rock up and down. As he did so, I started to
gag - I wanted it out, and I wanted it out now. My whole thoughts became
focused on this one thing - to get his cock out of me - and all the other
things flooding through me slipped in to the background. I could vaguely
hear Tony shouting "Good boy... Take it down.... Take my cock, Jon.... You
can do it.... Take it down..."  And he began to both stroke himself and
thrust himself more vigorously in and out of me.

The next instant I knew that I'd shot my load - my balls and cock were
messaging my brain and telling me that I had just had the best wank I'd
ever experienced, but, at the same time, I heard Tony's cries stop as he
shouted "Yes... Yes... Yes...." And my mouth filled with his hot, fresh
spunk. I wanted to gag and choke and spit it out, but his cock was still
blocking my mouth and my jaws were clamped open by his strong hands, so all
I could do was lie there and take it. Actually, as I relaxed, I realised
that it wasn't a problem - I'd tried tasting my own cum once, as a
teenager, and knew that it's one of those things where the smell just isn't
the same as the taste - you all know what I mean, don't you? If you have a
bowl of raspberries, the smell of raspberry is rather like the taste. But
cum isn't like that, is it? The smell is sort of like ammonia, but it
doesn't taste of anything much: vaguely salty, vaguely sweet, but not at
all like it smells. It's the texture that puts some people off, I suppose-
that warm, thick, rich oiliness that's really rather unlike anything else
you ever experience.

All the guys were cheering and shouting now, and Tony pulled out of me and
got off me, to kneel beside me. I started to flush with embarrassment as I
thought of all the other guys getting covered in my cum where I'd shot, but
as I looked around, I saw they were all brushing their bodies, rubbing in
patches of it to their skins. It was Craig who must have wanked me, as he
seemed to have his hand covered in it, and he was moving around from guy to
guy letting them smell it, and lick his fingers!

"So that was your first time, was it?". Craig asked, laughingly, and when I
saw how unconcerned all the other guys were about things, I relaxed a bit
and instead of being angry at how they'd just used my body, I just kind of
mumbled "Yes."

"Look, Jon, it happens", Craig went on. "When we get a new guy joining the
group - which isn't often - he has to get used to it quickly, and we find
that getting it over with like this is the best way. It isn't good enough
just to be a work slave here, as sometimes the owner wants us to put on bit
of a show for his guests - we'll get taken out of this cage after a big
dinner and paraded around his dining room, then we have to do a kind of
orgy scene for them. You've got to take part, or else it's the same as if
you don't work properly - we'd all get punished."

We both got to our feet, and I blurted out "But I'm not a fag.. I've
got.. Had... A girlfriend. I only go with women. I don't go with guys..."

"Wise up, Jon! You didn't have a snout ring, or a cinch ring, either. You
didn't work naked. What you mean is that you used to have a girl friend,
and you used not to go with guys.  Well, you do now. Come on... Now you've
started, show us how much you like it...  I just gave you a wanking the
like of which I bet you've never had before... So I think you owe me a
favour... Why don't you wank me, in return, or suck me off?"

I could sort of see what he was saying, but it's one think to be held down
and masturbated whilst another guy cums into your mouth, and quite another
to go and do those things willingly!  So I said "No... "

"Yes, Jon, you will!"

"No... I'm not going to...."

But when there are seven guys surrounding you who want you to do something,
even when you don't, there's not much you can do about it, is there? They
didn't exactly force me, but they all shuffled and clustered around me and
my hands were put onto a hard, stiff cock.

"Go on, Jon... Wank it..." Voices were whispering, and at the same time a
body pressed into me from the back and hands reached around and started to
tweak my nipples again. There wasn't much I could do, as I could see there
was no escape, so rather gingerly I stroked my hand up and down the warm
muscle that was cradled in it. It was all smooth and slippery, and I
guessed that some of my own cum must be lubricating it.

As I worked away, the hands let go of my nipples and at once two mouths
clamped over them and started to nibble and suck at me - it felt amazing!
But a new sensation now intruded - a hot, hard cock was pushing itself down
my arse crack, then started to rub up and down.

I actually moaned - yes, that's the right word - moaned. I tried to say
"Stop". But all that could come out was a low moan of ecstasy as the cock
spilled up and down between my cheeks, and the body owning it rubbed up and
down my back - we were all slicked with sweat now, and our bodies slid
sensuously over each other. I heard whispering in my ear... "That's it,
Jon... Do you like the feel of a cock between your ass...?", and all I
could do was moan a reply.

With all this going on I'd stopped wanking the cock in my hand, but its
owner didn't want me to, as his own hand closed over mine to fold it
tightly over his cock, and he started to rock backwards and forwards as if
he was fucking.

I was in a frenzy - and then I felt the hot spurt of cum as the guy I was
wanking came and shot his load down onto my belly and thighs.  At the same
time, the guy behind me pushed my thighs gently apart and pushed his cock
in between them - I could feel his cock head, moist and warm, banging into
the back of my balls.  Almost be reflex, I squeezed my thighs together, and
he moaned as he continued to thrust backwards and forwards between them.

There was another hard cock in my hand now, and it was easier to wank this
one - for one thing, my hand was covered in the cum of the previous guy,
and for another, my ass hole and balls were telling me that something
extremely pleasurable was going on as the cock between my thighs continued
to slide over and into them. I moaned again, and there was a lot of
reaction from the other guys around me as they all gave little gasps of
pleasure and sighs of encouragement.

The guy between my thighs came, and more cum hit me, and as I wanked the
second guy, I felt hands on my shoulders gently pushing me down onto my
knees. And then there was another cock pressing for entry to my lips. He
was much gentler than Tony, and didn't hit my cheeks with it, or force my
jaws apart - he just put his hands around my head and pulled my face into
his little strip of pubic hair so that his cock kind of went sideways
across my lips, and his balls were pressed against my chin. I heard him
whispering "Come on, Jon..."  So gently, to encourage me.

By now I think I was in some sort of "sex shock". I'd been wanked, I'd
tasted cock for the first time, a guy had slid himself down my ass and
between my thighs, and I wanked another man...  But, most of all, it was
the fact that I was surrounded by other naked men, and we were all covered
in cum. There was the incredible smell of raw, pure sex everywhere, and, I
suppose, the whole atmosphere was full of male pheromones urging my body on
at some primeval level to "do the right thing."

However much you don't want to, you just can't override primitive
instincts, can you? My higher brain still, at some level, wanted to say
"no", but a deeper, primeval part of it was saying "Yes...
Yes... Yes... This is what bodies were made for. This is what men were
meant to do..."

I opened my lips, and took the delicious cock into me, sliding my tongue
willingly over its head, and revelling in the taste of pure manhood as the
pre-cum hit my taste buds.

It's not clear to me how many men I experienced that night - it was far
more than seven, so I knew that the guys must be going around for "second
helpings". I sucked cocks, and they went between my ass cheeks, and in my
arm pits. Bodies slid over me.  Tongues caressed mine as we deep
kissed. And I was wanked and sucked so many times that I lost count and all
I knew was that my balls were screaming for relief as pleasure piled on
pleasure. The extreme fatigue that everyone seemed to have been
experiencing seemed to have vanished, as the sex went on, and on.

But eventually we subsided into a big, unruly heap on the floor, soaked in
our own sweat and cum, and not caring which part of which guy was in
contact with who!

I can't say I slept well as the constant shuffling of other bodies around
mine tended to make deep sleep impossible, but I honestly didn't care - I'd
never known anything like this, never had so many men so close to me. And
I'd loved it!

End Of Part 6