Chapter 6
The cock in Davey's mouth began to soften, and went limp. The boy tied to him groaned in pain, pulled away from Davey's crotch so that his cock hung down his face. His hands dropped from Davey's thighs, hanging loose for a minute; then he held to Davey again, the pain in his shoulders too much for him to bear.
Several minutes passed as the aching sensation spread through Davey, and then the ropes binding them together came away; the boy was lowered to the floor. It was almost a relief to have his weight cut loose.
But now the pain caine sharper in Davey's own limbs, without the touch of the other body, the excitement of sexual activity to direct his thoughts elsewhere. He moaned, unable to help himself or remain still. His head rolled from side to side until he saw Gregor across the room, drinking deeply from a flask. The instructor sighed, wiping his lips, then looked at Davey. He put the flask an a table and came over to the boy.
"Your arms sore, boy?"
"Yes, sir."
"Like to be let down?"
Davey started to answer, almost said yes again, then thought better of it. His eyes met Gregor's, held to the man's.
"If you think I should be, sir."
Gregor laughed, heartily, and Klaus and Michael looked around to see what was funny.
"Oh, this is a good one!" he said, explaining as he slapped Davey's face lovingly. "He really wants to be a slave!"
No, I don't!
But he couldn't say it aloud. Davey had to go along with whatever Gregor wanted -- whatever any of them wanted. He was completely in their power. If he cooperated, something might happen to help him, save him, let him escape this terrible place. Fighting would only bring punishment.
The ropes slackened, his feet moving closer together and then released as Gregor lowered him. His legs were too weak to support his weight. Davey collapsed when the tension was let out of the ropes holding his wrists, sagging to the floor. Gregor removed the wrist ropes, leaving him free, but for the next several minutes he could only huddle there, unable even to sit up.
Gregor left him, the interest of all three instructors had shifted to young James. The little youngster was straddling Howard, who was still tied in the tiled depression. The boy's legs were almost too short to reach across the space. He bit his lip as he struggled for balance, and looked at Michael, his chief tormentor.
The whip snapped suggestively, and James winced.
"Well, come on, boy! What are you waiting for? You said you had to shit, so shit!"
Davey was close enough to see Howard's face. The prisoner's eyes were closed, his face turned away from the boy standing over him. He did not look even when the first jet of urine spurted from James' cock, although when the stream splashed across his cheek he opened his mouth, accepting it in resignation.
Michael was growing angry. "Shit, damn you!"
"Sir, I can't!"
"Goddamn little bastard!"
The whip curled around James' loins, the tip snapping at his hard cock and tasting the flesh. The little boy screamed, staggering from the force of the blow. The whip snapped again, and he lost his footing, falling into the tiled toilet area and on top of Howard. Sobbing, James tried to scramble out of the pit, but Michael's whip snapped again, stopping him.
"Stay there, you little shit!"
Fury darkened Michael's face as the instructor turned, pointed at the nearest boy. "You Timothy, untie Howard!"
One of the two boys who had been fucked by Howard's dildoes scrambled now at Michael's order to release the prisoner from the tiled pit. James rolled off Howard, making no effort to follow the bigger boy out of the pit even though he was laying in a puddle of his own urine. He was resigned to his fate, knowing that Michael would never permit him to escape the coming punishment. Nor did he look to the other instructors for sympathy.
Timothy looked at Michael, read the unspoken command in the instructor's eyes. His face set to show no expression, he caught James' hand, forcing him into the straps, although he had to lengthen them considerably before they would hold the child.
Davey sat up as Michael took the youngster's earlier position, straddling the pit. He rubbed his arms as he watched the instructor slip off his loin cloth, leaving him naked. His cock seemed more terrible than when it merely protruded from the opening in the garment, even though it wasn't hard now.
Michael squatted slightly, hands along his thighs, then he realized he was still holding the whip. He tossed it to Klaus, and balanced himself again. James stared up at him from between his legs, the little boy's eyes wide and beseeching, and Michael grinned.
"That's right, boy, keep those eyes wide open. I want you to see what happens when you disobey!" He panted, then, his asshole working and at last opening, the turd growing impossibly long. Davey and the other slave boys stared, unable to look away, as piss jetted from Michael's cock, splashing into the boy's face.
"Goddamn little prick! I tell you to shit, you shit! You hear me?"
James choked, sputtering as the piss splashed into his face and filled his mouth. He closed his eyes against the burning stream, the ammonia stink enough to make him retch. But somehow he managed to answer.
"Yes sir! I hear you, sir!"
Michael panted again, straining as the shower of piss came to a stop. But the turd had stopped growing, was showing signs of breaking in the middle even though it was hanging several inches over the bound boy. The instructor's asshole tightened, and the length of shit was snapped off, falling onto James' belly. The little fellow made an anguished face as he felt the thing touch him, folding toward his chin like a falling snake. He winced, but the shit wasn't quite long enough to hit his shoulder.
The instructor stepped clear of the toilet pit, looked around and spotted Davey.
"David! Come here!"
It hurt to stand, and he staggered when he tried to take the first step, but Davey hurried to comply. He moved as quickly as his aching muscles would permit, not liking the grin on Michael's face as he approached the instructor. Michael touched his shoulder.
"Down on your knees, boy, behind me."
Fearful of his intent, Davey did as Michael demanded, scrabbling around as the instructor bent slightly to present his ass to the boy's face. Davey could see a smear of brown between the clenched cheeks.
"Lick my asshole clean!"
Oh, God! He couldn't.
But even as he voiced the thought -- the prayer -- Davey knew that he must. He was afraid to resist, afraid of what they might do if he refused. They could do anything, hurt him terribly, mutilate him, he was their slave.
He thought he was going to be sick, but he reached out to spread Michael's asscheeks with his hands, exposing the clotted bit of shit clinging to the brown ring. Closing his eyes and holding his breath, Davey moved closer, reaching out with his tongue until the first taste was there. He fought the impulse to retch, remembering that he had cleaned Gregor's cock of the shit from his own ass. He would live through this.
Michael sighed as Davey's tongue worked around his rectum, the instructor shifting slightly into a better position so the boy could dig deeper. Davey tried not to breathe, tried not to think, as he forced himself to go on with the disagreeable task, wondering if there could be ordeals even more horrible yet to come.
That was his introduction to slavery.
The day passed, the boys finally permitted to fall across the beds and sleep -- those not already tied to the beds. There was no way for the slaves to keep track of time, for the instructors wore no watches and nothing of the outside world penetrated to this chamber. Night could have turned into day, day into night, it was impossible to judge, and made no difference.
They were treated well, in one sense -- they were fed well, even generously. Several of the boys who had been too thin began to put on weight, aided by the vitamin supplements fed by the three instructors. They could sleep as long as they needed, although any sleep period could be rudely ended or interrupted by a cock shoved into asshole or mouth -- sometimes an instructor's, sometimes one of the other boys moving at an instructor's direction.
Davey's bruises healed rapidly. The punishment inflicted by his masters was not of the kind to last long, although the pain and the humiliation sharp in youthful memories. Despite the frequent threats of the three, punishment was never mutilating for the boys were to be sold to buyers who wanted prime flesh, unmarked. No matter what they might intend for their purchases.
Davey had been the tenth boy. A week later another arrived, and a few days later a twelfth. The number signified that the group was complete, the instructors concentrating on the latest arrivals, hurrying now as they implanted the single lesson learned by the first ones.
You are slave.
You are owned.
You must do whatever your master wishes, whatever he tells you to do, no matter what, no matter how terrible.
To implant the lesson, each boy was treated in turn, tormented, tied and whipped, fucked and forced to suck every cock about him, tortured and forced to take a turn in the toilet pit.
"Maybe your master will be kind and gentle, will do nothing but love you." Gregor grinned as he said it. "Then again, maybe he'll rip your nuts off with a rusty screwdriver. They'll be your nuts, not his; he can do it if he wants."
The boys learned to anticipate, leaping to please before Klaus or Michael or Gregor could voice the command. When they guessed right, sometimes they were rewarded.
One of the instructors was always with the boys, even during the sleeping time. They took turns in leaving for their own rest periods. It seemed to make no difference if one or two or all three were there. The orders came rapidly, unexpectedly, no boy safe, every boy victimized. They were called to perform, to respond, to suck huge cocks and suck small assholes, to fuck the youngest among them and take the biggest pricks into their own rectums. They were called upon for semen, made to deliver cum after cum until their balls ached, their reservoirs seemingly drained forever. Yet an hour later they would be lined up against the wall and forced to masturbate continuously until the last one had produced yet another spurting, no matter how those who came quickly ached in the cock.
Davey soon learned the names of the others. There was Philip and Jeffrey, who had been tied against him; Preston and Franklin and William; Andrew and James were the youngest; Howard and Timothy the oldest, although Timothy's cock was smaller than several of the others. Karl was the eleventh to arrive, Edward the last, in tears when the slavemaster brought him down to the quarters.
"Mommy!" the boy said, again and again, moaning the name. "Momm'y!"
The master smiled, answering the question in Michael's raised eyebrow.
"His mommy sold him. She's a junkie."
"She didn't!" the boy cried, turning and hitting out. "You're a liar! A liar!"
Michael's hand caught him behind the ear, knocking him from his feet. He stared up at the instructor, face screwed up to cry.
"You back again, brat, and I'll kick your teeth in!"
Edward couldn't know that the threat was idle. He subsided, not protesting again until he was stretched over the padded bar, both hands and legs locked into position. The other boys were lined up, even Andrew, although the little fellow was given a dildo in place of his own as-yet-uncoming cock. It was one of the big dildoes, and he was put in line just ahead of Howard, who came last. Edward screamed when the first boy fucked into him, and continued to scream until finally his voice disappeared along about the time Davey was climbing his buttocks.
"Jesus, he's noisy," said Gregor to Klaus.
"A Goddamn baby!" said Michael. "Wants his mommy's titty!"
"Well, he can't have that, but we can give him something else to drink," said Klaus, grinning.
And so Edward set the record for ending up in the toilet pit, rushed there as soon as Howard's prick stopped spurting into his ass. A moment later the eleven boys ringed the pit and, at Klaus' signal, all pissed together.
Several hours later Michael stopped by the pit, looking down at the boy who was now well-covered with shit.
"Decide to shut up yet, boy?"
"No!" He shook his head. "You'll be sorry! You can't get away with this!"
After being hosed off with the high pressure firehose, Edward spent the rest of his first night hanging upside down, his mouth frequently filled with cock, until the other boys were permitted to sleep. It was enough to teach him the basic lesson.
Every time Davey came close to him the boy seemed on the verge of tears, but he never again complained or cried.
Davey could feel sorry for the others, although they were in no worse position than himself. Most of them came from a broken home, one parent missing or dead. Andrew had been sold by his aunt, his mother's only sister. The boy told him the story one night while they lay close together, the little one holding to Davey's cock while the older boy held him in his arms.
"Aunt Mildred always hated me, even before I had to come and live with her. Daddy said she was jealous because I was prettier than she was, but Mommy called him an old fool."
"Why did she sell you?"
"She didn't want me -- she was going to send me to the orphanage, but the minister told her it was her Christian duty. She was always mean to me, gave everything to Lucille. If I did anything at all, she took away my toys and my dessert and my movie money and gave it to Lucille!"
"Lucille her own kid?"
"Yes, a rat, Davey. None of the kids liked her. She told her mother that I made the other kids hate her, but that wasn't true. I didn't have to tell them to hate her, she was mean enough by herself."
"Why did they sell you?"
"It was Lucille's idea. Aunt Mildred used to make me stand in the corner with my pants down around my ankle looking out so Lucille could see my pecker and giggle. One night Lucille asked why she didn't send me away or give me away or something, maybe drop me off a bridge. She said I should be given to one of those perverts who like to give little kids candy and do sex to them 'cause I was such a pretty little boy. Three days later Aunt Mildred brought me here."
Davey thought about his father. How had he heard about the slavemaster? A thousand dollars, it didn't seem like a lot of money for a kid. He wondered how much he'd bring at the slave auction. More important, what kind of man would buy him?
He sighed. Did anybody miss him? His playmates, certainly -- Tommy and Billy, at least. His teacher, maybe. What had they been told? Some of the boys had heard the report phoned to the police even before they were brought here that they had run away. Had his father done the same? He had told Billy that Davey was missing.
Andrew sighed and snuggled closer to Davey, squeezing his cock. It was tender from the almost constant sex action of the past few weeks, but he did not pull away. Let the little chap get a little pleasure from holding him if he could. He liked Andrew best of all the other boys. Was there any chance they'd be bought by the same master so they could stay together?
"Drop your cocks, kiddies, and stop fucking! Today's the big day!"
"Today?" Howard sat up, rubbing his eyes. "What..."
"It's sale day," said Gregor, less boisterously. "Today we get you ready, boys, shine you and fix you up. Tonight you'll be with your new masters."
The boys stared at each other, excited. At last the training was coming to an end. Then some of their spirits fell as the wiser ones wondered if they would be better off in the hands of their eventual owners. They had not been trained in every perversion, taught to accept punishment, whippings and beatings and torture, for no reason.
"I know a sadist is going to buy me!" said Howard, worried, as Davey came close to pick up his breakfast dish.
"What's that?" asked Davey.
"A guy who likes to hurt you," said Howard. "Hurt you bad. A masochist is a guy who likes to be hurt."
"Sounds crazy to me."
"They're all crazy," said Howard, ominously.
After breakfast the boys were ushered into the shower. There were no whips this morning, no cuffing hands, no angry orders from the instructors. Klaus and Michael and Gregor were affable, joking with the boys as they inspected their bathing, sending a few back to go over a hastily-touched section again.
"Look your prettiest," said Michael, cupping Andrew's chin in his hand and smiling at the boy. "The pretty boy brings the best price."
Their nails, toes and fingers, were trimmed, buffed, polished, and then they were shampooed, their hair blown out to a fine cloud and given careful handling. Those who were deemed too shaggy were trimmed by Gregor, who proved himself adept with the barber's tools. Klaus plucked over-abundant eyebrows and removed stray strands from inside ears. Then the asses of those boys who were shaggy in that region were trimmed to velvet softness, shaved skin-close. The pubic patches were given the same gentle treatment as the head hair, except in the case of Andrew. The youngest boy was plucked of his first seven pubic strands, lamenting their loss.
"Quiet, little one," said Michael. "Your lack of hair is your prime asset. The man who buys you does not want your juices spilling in his mouth, at least, not yet."
He ran his finger in the boy's ass, Andrew squirming and jumping, then sighed. "I wouldn't mind owning you myself."
"Becoming attached to the merchandise?" Michael jumped and looked at Klaus. The latter wore a sardonic smile. Michael blushed.
"No, of course not. Just admiring a fine work of nature. You must admit this is one of the prettiest we've ever bad."
"Pretty enough," said Gregor, reaching out to clasp Davey's shoulder. "But this is the one who will bring the sighs of appreciation."
"Me?" Davey was so surprised that he forgot to add "sir", but his lapse was either unnoticed or overlooked. Gregor ran his hand up and down the boy's spine, bringing a shiver to him and making his cock quiver.
"Look at those lips, that mouth. Oh, this will be the prize lot in the sale -- he'll be last, you mark my words."
"Not Andrew?" Michael shook his head. "A turn of duty says you're wrong."
"You're on. Loser works double the first night the last of the new lot arrives."
They shook on it, the boys not understanding the meaning of their wager -- not knowing that Klaus, Gregor and Michael were slaves like themselves, kept by the master to train his new crops. In this house, except for the master, there were only slaves.
These three could leave this room only to serve the man who owned them, as servants or in his bed. Like the boys they had trained, they sucked his cock, licked his ass, drank his piss, did whatever he demanded.