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Review This Story || Author: 2nn

Jamie is taken.

Part 1

Jamie is taken.


By 2NN




This story deals with homosexuality, extreme BDSM and snuff, so if you


are a minor or get offended by such reading, go elsewhere now.




Chapter 1


Jamie loved his job. Not only did he enjoy the job itself, but


it also provided him with outstanding opportunities when it came to


getting laid. Jamie was 21 years old and had moved to the city eighteen


months before. Not long after he had gotten the job, working as a sales


clerk and tailor's assistant at "Huber & Worthington", which was beyond


a shadow of a doubt the most exclusive tailor in town. The "standard"


rack suits were all made by exclusive designers and the custom made


suits routinely cost a small fortune. Jamie was one of four sales clerks


all chosen for their manners, taste in clothes and good looks. They were


all young men and all impeccably dressed.




Jamie had moved away from the suburbs he had grown up in and moved to


the city were he could finally jump out of the closet. Being openly gay


in his hometown would have been difficult, but in the city few cared.


Working at such an exclusive store provided him with the perfect


opportunity to meet the kind of man he personally favored; the


distinguished and often outrageously wealthy middle-aged man. Flirting


with the customers in a manner so discrete that only men who were


looking for a bit of action picked it up had become his specialty.


Smiling just so while discretely touching the customer in the right


place as he measured his chest or thigh had gotten him laid countless


times. Once he had even managed to get a date with customer while the


customer's wife sat three feet away watching her husband getting


measured for a new suit.




Jamie was a slight young man with small, delicate features as well as


small, but well proportioned hands and feet. He stood five feet five


inches in his shoes and had black hair, brown eyes and tanned skin and


an exceedingly fine complexion.




Jamie had a thing for men that were older than himself and who were in


control. Going down on a man who radiated power or being taken from


behind by someone who was obviously in control were great turn-ons for


Jamie. Apart from the sex, the men he picked up were also often quite


generous and he often received very expensive gifts in return for his


favors. He didn't really have any friends and his partners all insisted


on absolute discretion so Jamie didn't really have anyone close to him


in the city, but with a great job resulting in great sex and extra cash


he didn't really care.




He was standing in front of the counter on a Thursday morning when the


man entered. The man was six feet seven inches with a deep, muscular


chest and very large hands, impeccably manicured. His stylishly short


hair was black with a sprinkling of grey and his jaw was square,


together with his piercing black eyes lending him a look of raw,


undiluted power. His suit had probably cost more than Jamie made in a


year and the price tag on his handmade shoes was easily enough for a


luxury sedan. His watch was of the kind usually reserved for presidents


and kings. He was clearly a man of wealth and influence.




Jamie was the closest and as soon as the man had walked in the door he


had sauntered over to him and after letting the man take in the store he


asked him: "May I be of service Sir?" The man turned his gaze to Jamie


letting his eyes take all of the young clerk in. From the moment he


turned towards Jamie, his complete attention was focused on him, his


gaze wandering up and down Jamie before settling on his face as he


looked Jamie straight in the eye. Just before he spoke a fleeting look


of predatory amusement flickered across his handsome face: "You


certainly may." The tone alone was enough to send a shiver down Jamie's


spine. The man continued looking him straight in the eye as he


continued: "I'm looking for a new suit, something casual but stylish.


Will you be able to provide the service I require, Mr. …?" His mouth a


little dry from the man's directness, Jamie haltingly replied: "C…, C…,


Collins, Jamie Collins, Sir." A smile spread across the man's face. It


was at the same time subtle and very predatory and he used the


opportunity to move a step closer to Jamie, thereby filling up his


entire field of vision. It would have been impolite of Jamie to step


back even if the man's dominating presence this close was making him


feel more than a little uncomfortable. Uncomfortable and aroused.


Usually his flirts were very offhand, a game between gentlemen where the


arousal, the open sexuality of the situation often came quite late in


the game after polite sparring and an extended exchange of subtle


remarks. Not so this time. The man radiated control and to his surprise


the man's presence made Jamie hard.




A quick glance down told Jamie that the man had already noticed and as


his smile became broader. Jamie wanted to run and hide. The man,


however, continued undeterred: "I'll just call you Jamie then." This was


if not unheard of, then at least very unusual. Normally the customers


addressed the clerks by their last names, preserving a polite distance


between them. "Of course Sir," Jamie answered, regaining some of his


composure. "And how may I address you Sir?" he continued. ""Sir" is


appropriate, I think," the man replied unfazed, again throwing Jamie off


balance. "Off course Sir," he managed to reply.




With that the man started outlining which kind of suit he wanted to buy,


suddenly seeming completely uninterested in Jamie. Quickly regaining his


composure, again, Jamie extracted the necessary information from the man


and soon he was escorting him to one of the store's spacious rooms for


trying out clothes and taking measurements for the new suits. Unlike


less exclusive stores, the rooms at "Huber & Worthington" were all


large, furnished with expensive chairs and couches and hidden behind


solid oaken doors, not flimsy curtains.




At first the man tried out several standard suits with a variety of


shirts and ties. It took quite some time, which was normal for the


customers at the store, but the man showed no signs of impatience. He


didn't come on to Jamie either, which was both disappointing and a


relief. After almost an hour Jamie took all the necessary measurements


required for a new suit and agreed with the man on a price and delivery


date. With that all he needed was the man's name and their business


would be concluded, at least for now. But before he could ask the final


question the man again turned his high powered gaze to Jamie and said:


"It's time you provided proper service Jamie." Jamie looked up


uncomprehending. What could he possibly be talking about? He was just


about to ask when the man cut him short: "Get on your knees and provide


proper service, Jamie." Jamie was dumbfounded. It was impossible. The


man had just asked him, no ordered him, to blow him. He opened his mouth


object. This was not the way things were done at "Huber & Worthington".


Before he could utter a single word a vicious slap landed on his left


cheek. It nearly knocked him over and as he felt the man's fingers close


around his throat he began to get very afraid: "I shall not ask you


again," the man said in perfectly reasoned tones: "Get on your knees and


provide me with real service."




There were no real options Jamie could think of and when the man let go


he quickly dropped to his knees and began fumbling with the man's


zipper. He finally managed to extract the man's member and when he held


it in his hands he gasped. It was huge! More like a small pole or stake


than a cock and as he tentatively opened his mouth he wondered if he


would even be able to take it. He was able to take all of it as it


turned out and soon he was sucking on the man's big, fat cock much too


eagerly to claim coercion in any real sense of the word.




Jamie had to admit that the man's raw power and control turned him on.


After less than a minute of sucking the man said: "Pull your trousers


down." Jamie hesitated only for split second, but by the time the man


had grabbed the back of his head entirely too firmly, Jamie's trousers


were down around his knees. "Underpants too, you idiot," the man scolded


him. Jamie had wanted to avoid this as it became much too obvious that


the situation aroused him. His cock was much too stiff and the man


remarked: "Just as I thought. You are a submissive little shit aren't


you?"




Jamie knew that he was submissive, but still the remark stung somehow.


Sure, some of his lovers had tied him up and he was certainly aroused at


being controlled by another, but it had mostly been discrete and


unspoken control, playful and somehow harmless. (A single incident where


he had been bound in rubber and whipped mercilessly before being screwed


loomed large in the back of Jamie's mind before he pushed the image


aside. Surely he didn't really think that the brutality of that


particular fuck had really been that great, did he?) As the man


commanded Jamie to put his hands behind his head and Jamie complied in


an instant, Jamie understood that this was something else, something


that was not playful or harmless. This man was the real deal, a man who


controlled him in a much, much more serious way than anyone had ever


done before.




Presently the man began fucking Jamie's face in earnest, moving his


member so far in that it blocked Jamie's breath and set off his gag


reflex as it pressed against his throat. The man didn't stop there.


Grabbing Jamie's head with both hands, he began forcing the tip of his


monster cock into Jamie's throat setting off involuntary convulsions in


his victim. "You're going to have to work on that, you little creep. If


you're not deep-throating me within two weeks you're going to be sorry."


Two weeks? The man intended to keep this up, intended to continue to use


Jamie beyond this? Jamie almost choked on the man's cock as it once


again pressed down his throat. Soon, however, he had other things on his


mind as the man came, shooting a river of cum into his mouth. The flood


was too great for him to keep up with and a small stream of cum ran down


his chin and dripped onto his shirt. The man cursed him for being such a


useless clown and Jamie was mortified, thinking of how he was going to


explain that stain to the others at the store. He was just about to move


his head away when the man ordered him to keep up the sucking until he


got hard again. This got Jamie thinking about what the man wanted to do


to him next. The possibilities were endless and at the moment all seemed


frightening and arousing as well.




He didn't have much time to think about it though. Extracting his now


stiff cock from Jamie's mouth, he stood him up, turned Jamie around and


proceeded to tie his arms behind his back with an eight hundred dollar


tie. He then placed him kneeling on the couch. Without warning he


pressed his giant dick against Jamie's asshole. As the huge cock parted


his cheeks and began the job of opening up Jamie, the man said: "You'd


better loosen up or I'll beat you open, you worthless, little shit."


Swallowing hard Jamie tried to relax and soon he felt how the man's tool


moved inside him. It was much too big and the pain was terrible. Jamie


opened his mouth to scream but before a single word came from his mouth,


a superb tie made from yellow silk, the most expensive in the whole


place, looped around his throat and was tightened mercilessly. The


expensive silk tie didn't cut his breath of completely, but it reduced


it to a feeble rasping, just barely keeping Jamie conscious. As the


man's cock continued its relentless and extremely painful way up his


ass, Jamie found to his great surprise that the choking sensation was


intensely arousing. The feeling of being fucked and choked made his cock


throb with need and just when he thought how nice it would be to be able


to masturbate, he felt the man's free hand close around his cock. A


spasm of pure joy seized him as the man began stroking him.




Jamie began to find the rhythm, moving with the man's strokes, both


those in his ass and those provided to his cock. It was fantastic. He


couldn't believe he hadn't tried this before. He had always discounted


the stories about breathplay as ramblings from sick perverts, but now he


had to admit that the turn-on was amazing. Just then he caught his


reflection in the mirror. A small, well-dressed young man, his face red


and swollen and his tongue hanging out, being fucked by a dominant older


man. The scene was just too sexy and Jamie began to move his hips


frantically, his arms working to get free as he gasped for air, the


rapidly approaching orgasm filling up his entire being. Then, as he


moved unstoppably towards his climax, the silk tie around his neck was


tightened further, cutting off his breath altogether.




He panicked. He jerked and thrashed, trying desperately to get free, not


even succeeding in moving a fraction of an inch of the man's cock out


his ass. His panic also fuelled his lust and as his vision began to fade


he felt the man shoot his load up his ass while he shot his own on a


monstrously expensive shirt lying on the couch, his whole body arched in


pleasure as every fiber of his body was saturated with the enormity of


orgasm. It was easily the best orgasm of his life and as the aftershocks


hit him it also became the most frightening. He still couldn't breathe


and as his body spasmed with the remains of his orgasm, his vision began


to fade and his struggles became weaker. As the last aftershock flowed


over him, he felt himself becoming limp, loosing consciousness.




He woke up coughing and retching, lying on the floor as the man,


towering above him, zipped his pants and straightened his tie. He bent


down over the terrified young man and lifted him up by the tie still


encircling his neck. As pathetic whine escaped Jamie as he was brought


face to face with the man. "Get dressed", he told Jamie and then let go


of the tie. Shaking Jamie complied and when he had done so the man


informed him of what would happen next: "You fainted while taking


measurements for my suit and since you're feeling poorly you'll have to


take the rest of the day off." Catching a glimpse of himself in a mirror


Jamie didn't think it would be a problem convincing the manager that he


was indeed a little sick. Putting not too fine a point on it, Jamie


looked like shit, a flushed and feverish look on his face, his eyes


bloodshot. His clothes naturally looked more than a little rumpled, like


they would if he had fallen down.




Meanwhile the man continued: "From the time I leave the store you'll


have fifteen minutes to make it to my car. I'll be parked at the corner


of Union and Seventeenth." Jamie was shocked. The man wanted more from


him already? Shocking as it was, what the man said next shocked Jamie


even more: "I know where you live, Jamie Collins, and if you don't meet


me at my car I shall be forced to come and get you. This would make me


very mad indeed. And believe me Jamie; you don't want to see me mad."


Jamie believed the man and he nodded soundlessly as the man tossed


Jamie's own wallet to him.




As he threw away the shirt he had cum on and felt how the man grabbed


him by the arm, "supporting" him out of the room, Jamie felt completely


trapped. He felt that going along with the man would be extremely


dangerous as well as arousing, but the alternative was to call the cops.


Jamie had no illusions as to whom they would believe. The man would


probably smile overbearingly as he walked free, mad as hell and ready to


hunt Jamie down. Shivering Jamie decided that it was better to go along


with the man's wishes and try to figure out a solution along the way.




The manager, when faced with Jamie's sickly face and the man's dramatic


story of how Jamie had suffered convulsions before fainting, quickly


told Jamie to go see a doctor. He also told Jamie that he didn't have to


come in the next day and since it wasn't Jamie's turn to work Saturday,


this meant that it was now weekend. Seeing the man's back disappear out


the door and knowing that he had fifteen minutes to catch up, he wasn't


sure that the long weekend was a good thing.




Chapter 2


Five minutes after the man had walked out of the store Jamie


followed. He now had ten minutes to make it to the corner, which was


definitely not a lot of time. Not only did he have to walk fast, but the


last two blocks he had to run all out. Standing at the corner of Union


and Seventeenth, trying to catch his breath, he scouted for the man's


car as a truly enormous limousine pulled beside him. Jamie wasn't the


least bit surprised when the door opened and he heard the man's voice


come from the car, telling him to get in. Of course a man like that


would drive a huge limo. What else could he drive?




Getting in Jamie saw the man sitting in at the far end of the limousine.


He was looking at Jamie with the lazy interest that the well-fed


predator regards easy prey with and Jamie almost whimpered out loud when


he saw the look the man was giving him. Looking around Jamie was


suddenly very unsure of what to do. Where should he sit? How should he


address the man? The first question was answered at once as the man


drawled: "The floor, you little shit. I don't want filthy fucktoys


dirtying up my seats." Jamie wanted to object to this description of


himself, but nonetheless he found himself obediently sitting down on the


floor. No sooner had he sat down than the first vicious blow landed on


the side of his head: "What's that boy? I didn't quite hear you," the


man hissed at him. Confused Jamie tried to respond: "I'm sorry, I…" He


didn't get any further as another blow landed on the side of his head.


"Try again, slave. Try hard this time." As Jamie heard the last words


from the man, he suddenly understood what was expected of him. Not only


that, but he also understood where this was going and it filled him with


fear. The vast, and for him uncharted, territory of sexual slavery lay


before him, calling out to him. One of the reasons he had always gone


with older, dominant men, but had never tried actual S&M games (except


for that wonderful beating he had taken, sealed in rubber) was because


he knew that although he was submissive at heart, he also suspected that


he could get hurt very badly in that game. And although submissive Jamie


prided himself with being smart of able to take care of himself; to


avoid injury. Fooling around with older men who took charge was a safe


outlet for his submissive tendencies; a way of feeling the heat without


getting burned.




But it was too late for all of that now. The arrival of the man and his


direct and uncompromising approach had ruined all of Jamie's plans for a


safe and quiet life. The only question that now remained was whether


Jamie would ever be able to go back to playing vanilla games with his


customers. He feared that that time had passed the instant the man had


forced him to his knees back at the store. He had to go along until he


figured out a way to escape. Even if it was arousing it was also quite


clear that the man would love to hurt him; the worse, the better.




But at least he knew what to say: "Master, please Master," he said


keeping both his head and his voice down, "Master, I'm sorry Master."


The man's voice came from above his head: "Better, boy. Much better."


Jamie felt an absurd sense of pride in the man's severely limited praise


and when the man told him to get undressed, he did so without


hesitation. He had never been so afraid in his entire life. Nor so


aroused.




Soon he was kneeling in front of the man, naked on the floor of a huge


limousine stuck in traffic in the center of town. "Well slave," the man


drawled, "let's find out if you are any good at all." He then handed


Jamie a tall glass and said: "We'll resume your lessons so that you may


one day perhaps become an acceptable little suck boy. While you blow me


you will masturbate. Be sure that all of your filthy cum is collected in


that glass. Do not stop for even an instant until I tell you to do so.


Now get to it." Jamie then dared to look up at the man's giant cock.


Above it the man looked at him with a distinctly predatory look in his


eyes.




For the next hour and a half Jamie sat on the floor of the limousine,


hidden from the eyes of the other motorists and the pedestrians on the


sidewalk by only a single pane of darkened glass. The naked slave boy


knelt on the floor in front of his master, never talking his lips off


his master's cock and not even once slowing down his frantic


masturbation. Master insisted on eye contact when he was being blown and


having the man look him in the eye constantly while he sucked his cock


produced a truly intense feeling of being dominated in Jamie. This


feeling of intense inferiority, intensely aroused inferiority, combined


with the hailstorm of orgasms he experienced as he masturbated with a


fervor that made his arms and hands burn with the effort, was


overwhelming. Jamie knew he had to escape the man soon if he wanted to


avoid real harm, but the sheer number of orgasms he had experienced


while servicing the man could not help but induce loving feelings for


the man. Jamie balanced between his fear and his arousal.




Finally the limousine arrived at their destination. The man grabbed


Jamie's head one last time as he came yet again and then pulled back,


ordering Jamie to stop his pathetic masturbation. His face burning with


shame Jamie let go of his extremely tender cock and sat back. In his


right hand he held the glass that the man had given him at the beginning


of the trip. It was now full, almost flowing over with his own cum.


"Drink it boy. I know that little cum sluts like you love that tasty


drink." The command made Jamie's face burn even more with shame and


produced yet another erection in his oh-so raw and tender cock. Jamie


didn't really want to drink a glass full of is own cum, but the man's


eyes were on him and he had to obey. As he swallowed the stale and half


congealed cum he looked the man in the eye and tried to smile. He knew


it was wrong and that it proved that he was a slave, but he had to obey.


In the back of his mind a stray thought marveled at the fact that it was


less than three hours since he had first met the man.




When Jamie had finished his disgusting and demeaning drink the man gave


him three small presents. The first was a narrow leather collar, locked


on to his neck. A leash was permanently attached to the collar and at


first it just hung down Jamie's front. The second present was a pair of


steel handcuffs, which the man used to secure Jamie's hands behind his


back. He was none too gentle in securing them and soon Jamie's hands


began to swell and tingle. The third and final present was the most


surprising to Jamie and easily the most humiliating. It was a pair of


little, black boots, ankle high, made of shiny plastic and laced up the


front. But they weren't men's boots. They were pointy and had seven-inch


heels made of ultra thin metal; "fuck me"-boots. "Fuck me hard"-boots.


They were also at least one size too small and an involuntary whine


escaped Jamie as the man laced them onto his feet. He had no idea how


the man expected him to walk in them.




The thought must have been painted on his face, because the man grabbed


Jamie's chin and looked him straight into the eye: "I demand perfection,


slave. Perfection in everything you do." Jamie swallowed involuntarily


as the man continued: "You will put one foot directly in front of the


other so that your ass sways, telling the world what a slut you are.


Understood?" His face burning with shame Jamie replied: "Master, yes


Master." A cruel smile flicked across the man's face as he continued:


"Keep your legs straight and make sure that you heel hits the ground


first. Now get out you worthless cum hole!" With that the man pushed


Jamie out, holding him from behind. As soon as they were out of the car


the man grabbed the leash and led Jamie away from the limo, stumbling


along in his new footwear.




They were in a parking basement, but it was like no other parking


basement Jamie had ever been in. The walls were not bare concrete, but


covered with porcelain tiles with pleasant and discrete patterns and the


space was lit not by fluorescent lights, but by large lamps giving a


powerful, yet pleasant light. From hidden speakers muted classical music


flowed and not a single pipe was visible anywhere in the basement. The


cars were all luxury models, whether they were limousines, luxury sedans


or expensive sports cars.




Not that Jamie really had any time to take much of this in as he


stumbled along, struggling to do as the man had told him to and to keep


up. Soon they came to a door guarded by two very large men, both


impeccably dressed and both of whom obviously knew the man. Both


remarked that the man had once again managed to catch a fine looking


little slut. As Jamie was dragged past them, through the door he felt


their hands on his ass and heard one of the say: "I'll be seeing you


real soon boy… at the end of my cock." Jamie felt his face burning with


shame as the door closed behind him, both at the remark and at the fact


that a brief, but very arousing, image of himself being fucked by the


two bouncers had flashed through his mind before the remark had even


been uttered.




Inside they were met by two slave boys, one black and one white, who


instantly fell to the floor as they kissed the man's feet: "Welcome


Master van der Graf, we are honored to have the pleasure of your


company." The white slave boy was dressed in a full body suit made of


shiny black rubber covering him from his ankles to his toes, even


covering his hands and fingers. On his feet were very small, white


plastic boots with seven-inch heels. His neck, wrists and ankles were


encircled by broad steel shackles, but the shackles were as of yet not


connected to any chains. The black slave boy was dressed a polar


opposite outfit; shiny white rubber suit with black high heeled boots


and he was also wearing shackles. On the forehead of the black slave the


words "Hole #83" had been branded, whereas they read "Hole #315" on the


forehead of the white slave boy.




They continued worshipping the man's shoes until told to stop. "83," the


man said, "get me a private room. And make it snappy or I'll grind your


useless nuts to a fine powder." The black slave boy quickly scampered


off as the man moved further into the room with Jamie. Running with tiny


mincing steps, trying to move dignified without incurring the wrath of


the man and thus loosing his balls, number 83 quickly returned. Again he


dropped to his knees and delivered his message: "Master, may it please


Master, a private room is available for you. Master, may I be so


privileged as to show you to it?" With a grunt the man agreed to this


and shortly thereafter he dragged Jamie along after him as they followed


the seductively swaying ass of the black slave boy as he led deeper into


what was obviously a very exclusive club. A club for wealthy gentlemen


who liked to torture slave boys of various descriptions.




One of the first rooms they passed was a large open space. Along the


walls a huge array of instruments of torture, ropes, straps and chains


were lined up. The place was obviously meant for common recreational


activities. At the moment there were no spectators, but another master


was passing by with a number of slaves. On their elbows and knees were


four very large and muscular slaves. Their arms and legs had been folded


up and sealed inside black rubber pouches, forcing them to stand on


their elbows and knees. Their heads were sealed inside shiny, black


rubber bags open only at the mouth and nostrils. They had been arranged


in pairs, one directly behind the other. The one in front was gagged


with monstrous pump gag. The one behind had his rubber covered face


shoved in between the other slave's butt cheeks. Jamie couldn't see it,


but in his mouth he held a huge, solid steel bar. It went so far down


his throat that he was only able to breathe with the help of plastic


tubes running from his nostrils to his lungs and passing through a hole


in the steel bar. The other end on the bar was shoved up the ass of the


slave in front. A series of straps from his collar encircled the thighs


of the slave in front, insuring that he couldn't pull his face away from


the other slave's ass. The slaves in the back in turn had their asses


stuffed with huge steel dildos, so that they too were filled up.




Each slave had a tube covering their permanently erect cocks, providing


orders, punishment and pleasure. The tube had a sleeve, which could


pulsate gently to get them off. The same sleeve was lined with a steel


mesh so that electric shocks could be delivered to their cocks, both as


a way of telling them what to do and to punish them. Their heads were


always covered in rubber and the sleeve was the only way in which their


master communicated with them. Around their scrotums a wire had been


bound and from this wire a two pound weight dangled, almost touching the


ground.




The two pairs were arranged side by side, about a foot apart. On their


backs rested a platform made of very solid and very heavy timber. On the


platform stood what could only be described as a throne, a huge a wooden


chair, which looked very heavy indeed. What Jamie couldn't see was the


large array of lead batteries under the chair supplying power to drive


the sleeves around the slave cocks. On the chair their master sat, a


huge black man, both tall and muscular. He controlled the slaves via a


control panel in the armrest of the chair. He had spent nearly a year


training his current bunch of throne carrying slaves, but that had been


four and half years ago so he considered it time well spent.




As Jamie passed the chair, the occasional muffled, gurgling scream could


be heard from one of the slaves as he was being punished or allowed to


cum. After almost six years on their knees in total darkness and


complete silence, pleasure and pain were much the same. All that


mattered to them was obedience. Obedience and complete submission to the


man who controlled them so completely, a man none of them had seen or


heard in almost six years.




Jamie got a good look at the mercilessly controlled slaves before the


man dragged him out of the exhibition area of the club and into a


corridor lined with sturdy steel doors. About half had a key dangling


from the lock and all the rest were closed. Jamie guessed, correctly,


that the rooms behind doors without a key were occupied, while the ones


with a key were unused at the moment. Hole #83 led the man to one of the


door at the far end of the corridor, which opened into a frighteningly


well-equipped dungeon. Practically every available inch of wall space


and a very large portion of the space on the floor was filled up with


various implements for restricting mobility, sound, sight, hearing or


with instruments of torture. A desperate frightened whine escaped


Jamie's throat, a sound which only stopped when he saw the look that the


man cast in his direction. It told him that the sound had been a


transgression and that he would soon be punished for it.




For now, however, the man's attention fixed on hole #83. He knelt right


inside the door, awaiting the man's next command. The man kept him


waiting for a while longer as he tied Jamie's leash to a ring embedded


in the wall while he fetched something in a cupboard filled with items


that made Jamie's skin cold with fear. What he took out of it was


deceptively harmless looking - at least compared to many of the truly


fearsome instruments inside. He placed it in front of hole #83 and said


quite simply: "Prove your devotion, slave." As hole #83 saw the item in


front of him a terrified gasp escaped him before he managed to croak:


"Master, yes Master:" The man had placed a pincushion in front of the


poor slave and no one in the room, not even Jamie, had any doubts as to


where the needles would go. With trembling hands hole #83 picked up a


needle and hesitantly placed it against one of his rubber covered


testicles. Seemingly he wanted to believe that the man didn't really


want him to do it, because he looked imploringly up at the man as the


tips of the needle rested against the little rubber covered globe. His


expectation was of course entirely wrong. Instead of a pardon the words


coming out of the man's mouth were: "You may thank me after each needle.


Make sure that they are pushed as far in as possible." A short-lived


look of disbelief spread across hole #83' face before he realized that


hesitation would only make his situation worse. Then he pushed the


needle all the way into his testicle, a thin scream escaping him as it


slid in. "M…M…Master, tha..nk you Master," he stuttered as tears crept


into the corners of his eyes. Then he picked up the next needle and


pushed this into his other testicle, his scream a little louder this


time and his thank you a bit more rusty, if also a bit more determined.


Jamie was horrified. The poor slave boy pushed in one needle after


another as he continued to scream and continued to thank the man. When


half the pins in the cushion had been pushed in to his testicles, his


screaming was only interrupted by his increasingly unintelligible and


ever more gurgling thank-yous. When the pincushion was finally empty and


the slave's balls looked like a weird inverted hedgehog with two backs,


all that came out of him was a constant, hopeless keening. This


seemingly satisfied the man somewhat and he allowed hole # 83 to go with


two provisions: First that the needles remain in his balls until removed


by another master and secondly that he provide a small service. At the


mention of the latter hole #83 got a look of utter desperation on his


face. What more could the man possibly want from him. It turned out that


the man wanted hole #83 not to hurt himself, but Jamie instead.




While the order made hole #83 slightly less apprehensive, it made Jamie


scream with the anticipation of pain. What the man wanted hole #83 to do


was quite simple. Taking one testicle at a time he squeezed Jamie's


balls until Jamie fainted from the pain - which he only did after a


great deal of desperate screaming. He had wanted to flee from the


keening slave boy's outstretched, rubber-clad hands, but the man held


him by his neck and soon hole #83's hand closed around his right


testicle. Although the pain was unbelievable and mind-numbing, it took


forever before he fainted. And when he came to, hole #83 started on his


other testicle.




When Jamie came to the second time he was lying on the cold dungeon


floor. Hole #83 was gone and the man sat on a chair right in front of


him. Jamie's balls felt like they had swollen to twice their normal size


and they hurt unbelievably. Unnervingly a shiver of lust mingled with


extreme fear passed through him as he felt the pain and saw the man and


his member stirred. A cruel and condescending smile spread across the


man's face. Then he leaned forward and spoke, his voice calm and cool,


the very model of reason: "You are a slave now Jamie, whether you like


it or not. Since you belong to me, you might as well know my name. I am


Robert van der Graf, your owner." Jamie swallowed involuntarily and when


the man did not continue he was momentarily stumped. Then he realized


what was expected of him and said as humbly as he could: "Master, yes


Master," while bowing forward. Recognition was a long time coming, but


finally he heard the man, now Master Robert, say: "Late. Sloppy


execution. Lack of poise and respect. You are going to improve, boy."


The very tone made Jamie shiver with terror. The man was going to hurt


him badly. Jamie knew it and was unbelievably scared and to his own


surprise also aroused by his subjugation. "Boy," Master Robert


continued, "I have chosen you in part because you were asking for it.


You are too stupid and useless to realize yourself, but the second I saw


you, I saw what a useless little slave-shit you were and how you had


been waiting for someone to grab you." This time the man's pause only


lasted a few seconds before Jamie managed: "Master, yes Master." "In one


month your transition from your current profession as a well-clad whore


boy to full-time slave will be complete." Jamie shivered at the accuracy


of the man's description. After all that was what he was, wasn't it?


Just another whore, accepting payment for sex, even if he told himself


that he was only accepting gifts from lovers. Meanwhile Master


continued: "As I said, the transition will be complete in one month,


your job and apartment, all your acquaintances left behind. But only if


you are what I'm looking for." He lifted up Jamie's chin, looked him in


the eyes and said, in tones much harder than before: "This weekend will


be used to assess your willingness and quality of service. I require


absolute perfection and absolute sacrifice from my slaves. If you are


unwilling to do so I will discard you out of hand."




Jamie became desperate with fear as he heard the word "discard". It


could only mean one terrible and brutal thing in the current context and


Master proved that that was indeed the case. Yanking him to his feet he


dragged Jamie toward the center of the dungeon as he said: "If you do


not live up to my expectations I will discard you instantly, like this."


From the ceiling hung a thin rope with a noose at the end. Master pulled


the noose over Jamie's head and tightened the noose, but as he realized


what was happening, Jamie's time had already run out. The man pulled at


the other end of the rope and soon only the tips of his stilettos were


touching the cement floor as the noose pulled on his neck, reducing his


voice to rasping pleas. He could barely balance on his toes and his


pleas for mercy came out as nothing but gurgles. After watching Jamie


dancing around at the end of the rope for a few minutes, Master suddenly


pulled the rope again and Jamie now dangled from the rope in earnest,


his feet fighting to reach the floor only a couple of inches away, but


finding nothing. His breath now cut off completely, Jamie's struggles


became desperate and he twitched and spun at the end of his rope as his


vision gradually faded and the sounds of the world became faint.


Unbeknownst to himself his cock was rock hard and when Master touched it


he exploded in a fabulous orgasms, briefly increasing the intensity of


his struggling before his lost consciousness. His last thought was a


faint recognition that he was dying, almost completely drowned out by


the pleasure of the massive orgasm paralyzing his mind.




Jamie came to on the cold dungeon floor retching and coughing, his mind


paralyzed by a mixture of pleasure and panic. He had loved the orgasm he


had just experienced. His experience with breathplay was less than half


a day old and already he knew that he loved it almost as much as finally


submitting. Hence the panic. Loving something that would almost


certainly end up killing him was wrong and twisted, yet all Jamie could


think of as he slowly opened his eyes was that he wanted to try it


again. The man had him now. Jamie would not escape this and he suddenly


saw his own end clearly. With perfect clarity Jamie saw that he would


die at the hands of this man if he wasn't able escape soon.




Master was the first thing he saw as he opened his eyes. He face was


very close to Jamie's and an involuntary whimper, followed by a new


spate of coughing, escaped him as he saw him. "Dirty, little slut," the


man said in a low, menacing tone, "I knew you were a filthy pervert, a


disgusting little pig the moment I laid eyes on you. Maybe I should just


off you right now?" Before Jamie could answer him, beg him to live, the


man's hands closed around his throat and Jamie began struggling as the


man showed no signs of letting go. As he looked into Master's calm and


cruel eyes he felt himself grow weaker as his erection again grew


harder. Still the man kept on squeezing his throat and as Jamie's


struggling once again became erratic he exploded in yet another orgasm,


this time without even being touched.




Once again he came to in a haze of pleasure and panic, sobbing with the


realization of how lost he was. The man was going to kill him no matter


what; it was only a matter of time and the worst part of it was that he


was going to love it.




Presently the man stood up and kicked Jamie in the stomach - hard. Then


he kicked Jamie around until his head was where his ass had been minutes


ago. A pile of feces lay in a puddle of urine and with an enormous


feeling of hopelessness and disgust he realized that it was his own


waste, expelled as his bowels had given up. Now a command came from


Master, his voice booming down from above: "Clean up your disgusting


mess, you revolting little slave shit." Seeing no other options he heard


himself croak: "Master, yes Master. Master, at once Master." Then he


began eating his own waste. It was every bit as disgusting as he had


imagined, but he knew he had to do it. And not only because Master would


probably kill him if he didn't, but also because he felt that he in a


strange way had to prove his worth to the man.




When he had finally licked the floor clean of his own waste, Jamie lay


on the floor fighting to keep his disgusting meal down. Without a sound


Master's hand grabbed him by the hair and dragged Jamie, now completely


limp with emotional exhaustion and submission, to the corner of the


dungeon where there was a large washbasin made of stainless steel. Still


not speaking and clearly expecting nothing but docile obedience from


Jamie, Master washed his mouth with industrial strength soap. The taste


was truly horrible and burned his mouth, but Jamie was grateful for it.


Anything to rid him of the taste of shit.




When he had finished washing Jamie's disgusting mouth, Master led Jamie


to the opposite corner of the dungeon, to an arrangement of posts


embedded in the floor. "Since you are my property," Master began, "I


know that you love being tortured by me, that you love everything I do


to you, no matter how painful or degrading." The tone of Master's voice


alerted Jamie, already beginning to be in tune with his owner's demands,


and he knew what was expected of him: "Master, yes Master," he whispered


in terror, keeping his eyes down for fear of looking Master in the eye.


This was clearly not good enough for Master. He grabbed Jamie's chin


forcefully, brought his face close to Jamie's and shouted: "Useless


shit! Since you love everything I do to you, you will reply with


enthusiasm!" After first whimpering with fear Jamie managed to repeat


his reply, but this time with a greater degree of enthusiasm. Master


looked with disgust at his new slave boy and grunted: "Slightly better,


but you'll still be punished for your insolence." Then he unlocked


Jamie's handcuffs only to tie his elbows together, making them meet


painfully on Jamie's back. Pushing on Jamie's chest he then backed him


up against one of the posts, a sturdy wooden thing rising seven feet out


of the floor. Right in front of it stood a smaller post, about two and a


half feet high. At the end of it was a huge steel dildo and Jamie had no


illusions as to where it would go. On either side of it at a distance of


about two feet, even smaller posts rose out of the floor. These were


very solid looking and had shackles attached to their sides.




Master now lubed up the dildo and then pushed Jamie down until the dildo


pressed against his asshole. A warning look from the man told him to


relax his sphincter and with a gasp of pain and surprise at the size of


the thing, he slid down on it, feeling it filling him up in a way that


was both pleasant and most humiliating. Embarrassingly his cock was


again hard and needy and the intense humiliation of being exposed as the


slave boy he was did nothing to diminish his arousal. To make sure that


Jamie remained in place, Master secured his ankles in the shackles


attached to the two small poles. The effect was to spread Jamie's legs


as wide as they would go to either side and since he had to keep the


dildo inside his ass, he had to squat too. This was not a position Jamie


would be able to hold for long as his legs began to hurt from the


strained position (not to speak of his feet, trapped in small, sexy


stilettos bearing all of his weight). Soon he would have to stand up to


relieve the burden, but of course this was not part of Master's plan. To


insure that Jamie remained squatting, his legs spread wide, Master tied


a steel wire around Jamie's scrotum. The other end of this wire was then


secured to a ring embedded in the cement floor directly under his


crotch. Naturally Master made sure that the wire was taut and that any


attempts from Jamie's side at getting up would result in an unbearable


strain on his scrotum, if not in an outright castration.




When Jamie realized his predicament and his legs began to tire, he felt


a wave of desperation flowing over him. He was helpless, trapped in a


painful and humiliating situation. A small part of him liked the


submission, but a larger, more sensible part knew that this might very


well be the beginning of the end for him. The man who now owned him,


Master, would most probably torture him horribly and in time end up


killing him. But the prospect of dangling at the end of Master's rope,


his feet twitching as he came one last time not only scared him worse


than anything had ever done before. It made him hopelessly horny. The


realization was intensely humiliating and terrifying.




For now, however, he had to find a way of relieving the strain on his


thighs. Since standing up was not an option, Jamie had to squat further


down. This meant that the dildo would be pushed dangerously far up his


insides, but Jamie was perfectly willing to take the risk, especially


since it actually felt good being filled up, something that made him


whimper with humiliation.




Master, however, had already seen this coming and would have none of it.


Working quickly, he looped a noose of thin leather around Jamie's neck


and tied it off to a peg on the other side of the post. If Jamie


squatted further down he would now slowly strangle himself. He was


trapped. He knew he couldn't hold his current position, it was simply


too strenuous, but if he tried to rise he risked castrating himself and


if he slid down the pole (something that felt entirely too good) he


would be strangled. The fact that the situation had resulted in a


throbbing erection on his part did not improve matters.




Jamie's position was already very painful, but of course Master did not


consider it nearly painful enough. First he strapped Jamie upper body


very tightly to the post, securing him to it, while making sure that he


still had to work at maintaining his strenuous squat. This trapped his


already bound elbows behind him so that they pressed into his back most


uncomfortably. This also meant that his arms and hands were pointing


aimlessly out to the sides. Master fixed this by connecting them with a


steel rod with shackles at each end. This in turn meant that Jamie now


held his hands a foot apart in front of his chest. Then Master tied a


string around each of Jamie's fingers at the first joint from the tip.


Then he pulled all the strings as far back as they could go without


actually breaking Jamie's fingers, tying then together behind the post


and thereby putting a terrible and permanent strain on them. To make


sure that Jamie couldn't just move his hands up or down to relieve the


strain, Master secured the rod connecting his hands to both the floor


and to Jamie's collar, so that Jamie had to hold his hands in the same


place in front of his body.




Master had one more thing to do to Jamie. He applied oversized alligator


clamps to Jamie's balls, cock and nipples, reducing the already


suffering slave boy to gurgling screams of desperation. The pressure on


his balls especially was horrendous and Jamie was afraid that he would


pass out from the pain. Master then applied the final touch as he


connected the alligator clamps to an electric generator, which in turn


applied electric pulses to Jamie's balls, cock and nipples at completely


random intervals. Displaying terrifying attention to detail Master


rigged a wire to the steel dildo in Jamie's ass. The electric shocks


sent Jamie into a state of panic as his whole being was being engulfed


by the terrible pain in his genitals, ass and nipples. He couldn't even


scream properly as his throat was continually being constricted by the


awful noose around it. He was completely trapped in the most


uncomfortable and painful position he had ever experienced.




As he squatted there, trying to scream, keep from tearing his balls off


and prevent strangulation Master pushed two rubber wedges in between his


teeth, preventing him from closing his mouth. Then he took out his cock


and began fucking Jamie's face. Jamie tried to use his tongue to try and


please Master so that he might be let off the hook, but the continuous


electric shocks made even his tongue spasm and all that happened was


that Master's cock pumped in and out of his face without any coordinated


licking on his part. After a good long fuck he shot his load, filling up


his slave's face with jism, but Jamie had to work long and hard to


swallow as it was nearly impossible to swallow constricted as his throat


was.




While Jamie sat there trying to swallow Master left the room. Now in


addition to the pain and the humiliation Jamie had to contend with the


fact that there was now no one to rescue him if he lost consciousness.


If he did he would surely be strangled and thus Jamie's entire energy


was redirected to maintaining his painful squat. He even forgot to


swallow (not that he was really able to get the cum past the noose) and


he now sat gurgling and twitching with jism running down his chin.




Master was perfectly aware that there was a good chance that Jamie would


not survive for any length of time in his current position. After all


Master had lost a fair number of potential slaves in similar positions


over the years. Nonetheless he thought the test was a good one, since


there was no fun in having a slave that gave up too quickly. Master's


slaves had to have a measure of stamina so that he could torture them


for considerable lengths of time. If Jamie could survive five hours in


his current position he was probably tough enough to provide the proper


amount of sport for his Master. If not - too bad. Jamie was after all


just property.




In the meantime Master thought he would go find hole #83. The little


black, rubber slave reminded him of his first real catch back in high


school. He still remembered the feeling of fucking the little bound


shit, of closing his hands around his neck and feeling his panicky


spasms as his life was squeezed out of along with his orgasm. He hadn't


actually killed the little shit, not then at least, but he had come


close several times during high school. The result had been that the


slave boy had been forced to drop out and become Master's fulltime


slave, completely cowed by Master. He hadn't really been a natural


submissive, but he had been beaten and tortured into the role as the


first of many. He had lasted until Master's fist month of college when


Master had pulled a plastic bag over his head and secured it at the neck


so that he could enjoy his struggles as he fucked him. Conditioned as he


was, the slave had shot his load just before his spasms stopped and his


facial expression behind the clear plastic bag, so much of it sucked so


far down his throat that it looked painted on, was a mixture of pleasure


and terror now frozen in place.




Master didn't have the same plans for hole #83, but he did think it


would be fun to beat his already damaged balls until a castration was


necessary. The manager of the club had mentioned something about a


request for a black sissy and hole #83 liberated of his balls could then


appropriately be equipped with a pair of massive tits and sold off. Fun


and profit at the same time.




After more than 5 hours in the extremely strenuous position, being


constantly subjected to electrical shocks, Jamie was almost ready to


give up. In spite of the shocks to his cock and balls his erection


refused to die down. He was as needy as ever, humiliated by the fact


that he found the torture strangely arousing. He still felt the need to


escape, but was confused as to why he found his position so arousing.




As Jamie thought this, Master came back into the room with a wicked


smile on his face. Had Jamie known that Master had just removed hole


#83's balls to the jubilation of the crowd in the main room of the club,


he might have been less pleased to see him, but probably not. His legs


were almost ready to give in and he felt that he was minutes away from


death by strangulation as his legs were probably too tired for him to


stand up and thereby escape, albeit without his balls.




As it was the pathetic slave boy gurgled with delight at seeing his


cruel Master. Master, however, did not set him free at once, but


proceeded to fuck his face. When this was done he released Jamie from


his bindings. After screaming with pain as blood returned to the parts


of his anatomy which had been cut off, Jamie collapsed on the floor.




But rest was not what Master had in mind. The night's sport was just


getting started at the club and Master thought that Jamie was in a


perfect position to learn a few things. Leaving Jamie unbound except for


his leash, he dragged his slave boy from the dungeon room and into the


main exhibition room/sport room. A large crowd was watching a whipping


contest between two masters. A bet was on as to which of their


respective slaves could take the most brutal beating. The slaves were


two boys in their mid-twenties and both hung down from the ceiling by


their wrists and both had had their legs tied wide to rings in the floor


so they could not spin away from the whips. The masters used bullwhips


and their strokes were synchronized so that each slave received the same


amount of strokes at the same time. The slaves were well past screaming


and their bodies were completely covered with angry red welts. As Jamie


watched in horror one of them finally lost consciousness, much to the


chagrin of his owner who had to pay up. As the slaves were taken down,


the winner thanking his owner profusely, Jamie had no doubt that the


looser would pay a heavy price for his disobedience.




Now the crowd lacked entertainment and so Master stepped onto center


stage, immediately grabbing everyone's attention: "Gentlemen," he


started, "I must ask you all a favor." This got the attention of the


crowd who knew Robert van der Graf as the most brutal of masters. "I


have just today acquired this useless, little slave shit and as such he


is in dire need of training, specifically sex training. I would be most


grateful I you could teach him a trick or two, the more brutal, the


better." Then he turned to Jamie with a sneer and whispered to him:


"Obey every command instantly and gratefully. Disappoint me and I'll


have your useless balls before the night is out."




With that he left Jamie standing very, very humiliated in the center of


the room with a crowd of brutal perverts descending on him. Had it not


been for an unspoken agreement not to damage the property of other


masters, Jamie would probably have been fucked to death that night. For


most of it he tended to at least two cocks at a time, one in each end.


But while two cocks seemed to be the standard, he also handled four at a


time on several occasions; one in his mouth, one in his ass and one in


each hand. After an hour Jamie's body was sticky with cum and after four


hours of exhausting, humiliating, painful, and degrading gang-banging


Jamie's face had received so much cum that his eyelids had been glued


together, the drying cum acting as glue. His hair had stiffened into


spiky formations held up with dried jism and the masters had a hard time


gripping his hips as the cum continuously deposited there made Jamie


slippery.




Jamie's belly felt distended and overly full from all the semen he had


swallowed and a stream of it ran down the inside of his thighs. In


addition to the fucking and sucking and the instructions as to how best


to perform them, most of the masters started and ended their turn with


Jamie by punishing him in some way. Jamie's otherwise amazingly


persistent erection had literally been beaten down by the many brutal


blows to his balls, now at least three times their normal size. His skin


was covered with welts and Jamie was afraid that he would never be able


to walk normally again because of the strain on his knees during the


fuckings and the fact that all those cocks seemed to have widened him to


a point where closing his legs normally again seemed impossible.




Finally, as Thursday night gave way to Friday morning the masters had


had their fill and let Jamie drop to the floor. Exhausted, degraded and


now irrevocably enslaved, Jamie was still unable to open his eyes and he


could feel how the cum on his skin was drying, leaving a disgusting


crust.




Of course Master could hardly take such a filthy shit home with him and


since he planned to continue Jamie's training at the very same club


anyway, he simply tied up Jamie and left him there to "rest" a few


hours. He filled Jamie's mouth with a huge penis gag, securing it with a


sturdy strap behind his head. Then he used plastic straps to bring


Jamie's elbows and wrists together behind his back. To make sure that


Jamie didn't get comfortable on the cold dungeon floor, Master tied


Jamie's knees together, then brought Jamie's knees as close to his neck


as possible before securing his knees to his collar. Finally he secured


Jamie's collar to a ring in the floor, thus insuring that Jamie would


"rest" gagged, bound and folded up on the cold dungeon floor,


effectively blindfolded by a mass of dried jism.




Chapter 3


Monday morning Jamie went to work as he always did, but he was


no longer the same independent young man he had been only four days ago.


He was dressed the same way and he walked, talked and smiled the same


way (or nearly the same way), but underneath he was a subjugated and


chastised little slave boy. He led a new life now. Friday and Saturday


had been filled with harsh training, brutal punishments and merciless


fuckings, but Sunday Master had taken Jamie back to Jamie's own


apartment to let him rest and to inform him of how he would live from


now on. Inside the apartment Jamie, still dressed only in stilettos and


a collar and with his hands cuffed behind his back, had knelt beside


Master, speechless with shock. His apartment, once filled with


comfortable furniture and all the nice things given to him by his rich


lovers, was now almost completely empty. In fact only three things were


in it. The clothes in his wardrobe, his bed and a large, flat wicker


basket on the floor beside the bed, the kind that dogs sleep in. As he


knelt there Master told him that the bed would be occupied by his


handler, a person assigned to train Jamie and to make sure that all he


did was as per Master's orders. The basket on the floor was for Jamie.




Jamie's handler fed Jamie in the morning (a bowl of dog food), drove him


to work and picked him up again. Then he drove him where Master wanted


him to be; whether that was in his apartment, practicing high-heeled


walking or providing oral service - to the handler of course. Jamie


would never again be allowed to handle cash or credit card outside the


store. He walked around with completely empty pockets, no money, no ID,


no keys. All was taken care of and Jamie was left helpless and trapped -


just as Master wanted it.




Under his stylish suit he wore rubber shorts, concealing a very


well-packed ass and a cock imprisoned in a steel chastity tube, locked


in place with a steel wire around Jamie's scrotum, with three steel


wires crossing the head of his cock, preventing it from even expanding


in that direction. It had been the last two and most unpleasant


surprises of the long, long weekend. Jamie had been allowed to cum


during his training and punishment and Master's touch actually drove him


wild in spite of the fact that Jamie knew that those hands would


probably hurt him very badly eventually, but Sunday night as he locked


him up Master told Jamie that orgasms from now on would be very rare


occasions for him, if indeed he was ever allowed to cum again. Weeping


with loss and frustration Jamie kissed Master's shoes and thanked him as


enthusiastically as he could manage. His weeping seemed to please Master


who promptly pulled his property into his crotch and made him perform


oral service. The chastity device had been unpleasant surprise number


one. Unpleasant surprise number two had been his butt plug. Jamie had


watched and listened in horror as Master explained its function. The


plug not only had a GPS-transmitter so that Master could follow his


every move. The device was also equipped with a temperature sensor, a


special and very uncomfortable expanding head and an alarm. If the


device was removed an alarm would be triggered and his handler, never


far away, would come for him. This prevented Jamie from escaping the


constant surveillance. It could only be removed by his handler who


possessed the special codes needed and it would only be removed when


Jamie was being fucked or for his visits to the toilet, something he was


allowed once a day.




His handler was a huge man named Frank. Frank was stylishly dressed,


well groomed and spoke softly and in civilized tones, but Jamie had been


exposed to him during his stay at the club and there was only one man in


the whole world he was more afraid of and that was Master. Frank was


employed by the club and hired by masters for jobs just like Jamie.


Jamie had a horrifyingly vivid memory of Frank fucking his ass while


squeezing his balls and choking him with a piece of rope. He had come


closer that anyone but Master to killing him and Jamie was absolutely


terrified of him. He just knew that all attempts at escape would be


utterly futile.




And Jamie couldn't call for help either. In his suit Frank had installed


not one, but two cameras and two microphones so that he could follow


Jamie's every move. Jamie couldn't even write a note to the other clerks


or a customer without Frank knowing. Because both Master and Frank had


been quite clear about this point: they would not only take Jamie with


them if he tried to communicate his fate to others; they would also take


everyone who stood around him.




Jamie was desperate. He knew he had to escape or he would soon be


enslaved for the rest of his life, something that promised to be both


painful and short. Jamie had no illusions of Master's mercy or


compassion - he had none. He would fuck, beat, torture and even kill


Jamie just for sport and if Jamie didn't find a way to escape soon, this


was the fate that would befall him.




Not only was Jamie desperate to escape, but also terribly conflicted. He


did not enjoy slavery. Sure, he had enjoyed mild control games with some


of his lovers and there was no doubt that he had a submissive streak,


but what Master wanted to do was something else entirely, something from


which there was no return. And yet Jamie could not deny definite arousal


at some of the things




How being strangled could be so arousing was beyond his ability to


comprehend and the fact that Jamie had loved most of the gang-banging.


Not the beatings, but being taken by so many men at the same time had


been wonderful, if very humiliating. It was very confusing, especially


the fact that his trapped member tried to get hard every time he


remembered Master cutting off his air.




In short, Jamie was trapped. He wanted desperately to escape, but had no


idea how. At the same time he hated everything that had been done to


him, but got horribly aroused at the very idea of some of those very


same things. He told himself that for now he had to play along.




So when he left work, he walked straight to the car where Frank was


waiting. He got into the car and managed to avoid hesitating when Frank


pulled out his cock and drew Jamie's head down for service. When Jamie


had swallowed Frank's cum, he dutifully licked his member clean and put


it back into his pants as Frank drove off. This time their destination


was not Jamie's apartment, but a large and very expensive hotel


downtown. Jamie had no idea what was going to happen as Frank led him


through the very expensive looking lobby and into an elevator. On the


way Frank had exchanged greetings with the staff and from the way they


regarded him, Jamie had an idea that they knew what was going on. They


rode a glass elevator up and exited on the top floor, where Frank


knocked on the door of one of two penthouse suites in the hotel. Almost


instantly the door was opened by an impeccably dressed young, who looked


a lot like a Chinese edition of Jamie, except for the fact that this


young man exuded confidence. He invited Frank inside and Jamie followed


dutifully. They stood in a sort of hallway and without even looking at


Jamie the man said that "the slave needs to be naked and accessible".


Already terrified of Frank and of Master's retribution should he fail to


please, Jamie took his cue and quickly undressed, until the only things


he wore were his chastity device and his butt plug. Frank removed this


by first sending the proper codes to it, so that the head of it once


again became small enough for it to be removed. A sigh of relief


involuntarily escaped Jamie as the monster was retracted.




The young man let Frank out, agreeing on a pickup time for Jamie and the


turned to the naked slave in the hallway. Jamie waited docilely for the


young man to escort him and secretly marveled at the fact that his ass


now felt somehow empty and that this felt wrong. He couldn't already be


becoming addicted to being filled up to the max, now could he?




Jamie didn't have time to ponder this as the young man without any


warning grabbed him by the balls and used them as a leash and led him


into the main room of the penthouse. Inside on a large leather couch two


men sat in conversation. One was a middle-aged Chinese gentleman, very


well groomed and in an obviously expensive suit. The other man was also


middle-aged, an equally well groomed black gentleman, clearly the


manager of the hotel. At the feet of the Chinese gentleman sat the


object of their discussion. Or rather, he knelt. It was a dark-haired


young man of perhaps twenty-three, with perfect white skin now covered


in red welts. His hands were tied behind his back and his calves had


been almost fused with his thighs with very tightly tied leather straps.


In the corner of the room lay what looked like the remains of a hotel


uniform. He looked desperately at the hotel manager and clearly wanted


to speak, but despite being ungagged he was unable to, as the Chinese


gentleman had tied a leather strap very tightly around his neck. The


young man's face was almost purple and his tongue, which stuck out, had


an unhealthy dark blue color, his mouth working futilely to form words.


Every now and then the Chinese gentleman would pull on the strap and the


slave boy would twitch a little before the effort became too much and


was reduced to wordless lip movements.




The Chinese gentleman and the hotel manger were discussing the price of


the slave boy at their feet. The hotel manager argued that he had to


replace the young man, something which took time and effort and that he


had to receive extra compensation to buy calm among the other employees.


After all it could hardly be sad to be a safe work environment when the


customers could simply do with the employees as they saw fit. The


Chinese gentleman on the other hand argued that he price of such a


worthless specimen could impossibly be what the manager asked. Useless


scum like him were practically storming the doors of establishments such


as this to get a job and finding a replacement should hardly pose a


problem. As for the other employees, they could be kept in the dark and


for those who did find out what had happened to this boy, well they


could be sold off too, thereby increasing the hotel's revenues.




Jamie stood and watched in horrified wonder as the two men haggled over


the price of the young man on the floor, whose struggles became ever


more desperate as he realized that the manager was not playing some game


to get him off the hook, but actually selling him. When they finally


agreed on a price and the Chinese wrote a check, his struggles reached a


peak as he actually managed to produce a few half-strangled phrases


before his new owner tightened the strap and he fell unconscious to the


floor, twitching and letting his bladder go before the Chinese gentleman


loosened the strap sufficiently for him to breathe again. By the time he


came to again, the manager had thanked the Chinese and left and walked


past Jamie and his temporary handler without even a glance in their


direction.




As the new slave boy on the floor regained consciousness on the floor,


the Chinese gentleman finally turned his attention to Jamie. The young


man holding Jamie's balls, making Jamie painfully embarrassed as his


cock strained against its cage, stepped back and let the other take


over.




He let his eyes take in the now enslaved Jamie and his gaze was such


that Jamie had to look down in mere seconds. He was a man of obvious


power and influence as well as impeccable taste. Jamie saw that his suit


was probably from one of the most exclusive tailors in London and his


shoes from and Italian maker so exclusive that few outside the super


wealthy elite had ever heard of him. His shirt looked equally expensive


and the man's tie could be used as down payment on any apartment in


town. His watch also spelled extreme, yet discrete wealth. Like Master


the man exuded power and when his hand touched Jamie's thigh ever so


lightly, Jamie could not help but whimper. He was trapped, lost and


enslaved and even if he had been free to make a run for it, which he


definitely wasn't, the man's presence paralyzed him. Humiliating him


even further was the fact the raw undiluted power made Jamie hard, or at


least try to get hard, all over again, something the man did not miss


even if he said nothing.




He pointed to a door at the far end of the room and said: "Kneel by the


bed, facing away from it. Hands behind your head." Unable to offer even


the slightest resistance Jamie quickly jogged into the bedroom.


Meanwhile the man had once again grabbed hold of his new slave's


choke-leash and he now dragged the poor boy into the bedroom, the slave


emitting gurgling sounds before they were cut off and he was once again


reduced to airless spasms. In the bedroom Jamie knelt as ordered, hands


behind his head. His crotch was clearly exposed and easily accessible


and when the man had deposited his new slave, making sure that the boy


could breathe again, he walked up to Jamie and kicked him hard in the


groin without any warning at all. Jamie's world once again exploded with


pain so bad he didn't even think to bring his hands down to his crotch.


Instead he collapsed with a high-pitched whine, curling up into a ball.


He felt sick but stopped the bile he felt rising in his throat, as he


felt convinced that this would get him into even more trouble.




Before Jamie could pull himself together the Chinese began tying him up.


He folded Jamie's arms up and tied his forearms to his upper arms and he


then proceeded to tie Jamie's legs in a similar manner. Soon Jamie lay


on the floor, helpless and docilely awaiting the Chinese's next move.


The man's move came as a surprise to Jamie, who had been expecting


something like a fucking or a flogging. But the Chinese gentleman


instead scooped Jamie up off the floor and deposited him on a table,


commanding him to stand on all fours, completely still. Jamie of course


obeyed and so he stood still on top of the table, on knees and elbows as


the Chinese proceeded to secure him to the table. Before folding Jamie's


legs and arms up, the man had placed thin ropes in the crooks of Jamie's


elbows and knees, so that these now could be used to secure Jamie to the


legs of the table. He also tied a web connecting Jamie's legs and elbows


so that he was unable to move his limbs at all; he could only stand on


all fours on the table.




When this process was completed the Chinese gentleman s turned to his


new acquisition in the floor. He lifted him up from the floor and


deposited him on a high-backed chair; his legs still folded up, and tied


him to it. Then he removed the strap from around his throat and instead


shoved a huge pump gag into the slave's face and pumped it up until


pathetic whines once again escaped the slave's throat and his eyes


looked desperate above bloated chins. "Now, my little bitch, I have


decided that I want you as my soft, little fucktoy," the Chinese


gentleman told his new acquisition, "and that means that I would prefer


you to be soft and docile from the start. Tomorrow you'll be on your way


to my home in Shanghai and you must understand that escape is


impossible. Whether you like it or not, you are going to be a slave, a


fucktoy, for the rest of your life." The former hotel employee looked at


his master in silent horror he continued to detail his fate: "As I said,


I want you as my soft, little toy, not my pain-slave. I won't hesitate


to torture you for the smallest infraction, but you have been chosen for


your soft lips and cute ass, not your capacity for taking pain. So I


have a gift for you, slave, and I am sure that even a dumb bitch like


you will appreciate this one. I will give you the chance to learn what


happens to disobedient slaves without having to feel the pain." Jamie


saw what was coming and a whimper of fear escaped his mouth, something


the Chinese recognized with an evil smile. "I will demonstrate a few of


those things that can happen to unruly slaves in my household, using the


object on the table. It will only happen this once. After that the pain


will be inflicted on you. When I am done with the thing on the table you


will have the chance to tell me whether you want the soft and easy life


of a little, bimbo fucktoy or the harsh and demanding life of a


pain-slave."




Then the Chinese gentleman turned to Jamie and began his demonstration.


To start it at the proper level and to show his seriousness, he started


out by squeezing Jamie's balls until Jamie had screamed himself out and


nearly fainted from the pain. After squeezing them for a full five


minutes, Jamie was completely red in the face, all the tendons in his


neck stood out as a silent scream was chiseled onto his face. He just


knew that he would never again be able to use his genitals as this


treatment was simply too brutal for them to withstand. As the Chinese


gentleman moved to open one of two suitcases full of torture implements,


Jamie realized what he should have all along; that the squeezing had


only been a mild prelude.




Four hours later the session was finally winding down. Jamie's balls


were about five times their normal size, the skin which was now streaked


bluish welts, stretched in a decidedly unhealthy way. His body was


bruised and beaten and in his ass resided a dildo so monstrous that


Jamie had been reduced to an almost silent scream as the Chinese


gentleman had forced it in. For the final attraction a clear plastic bag


had been pulled down over Jamie's head and the Chinese now made sure


that the seal to Jamie's neck was tight as the poor slave boy struggled


futilely. All the muscles in Jamie's body trembled with effort and lack


of air as real struggling was impossible for him. Not only was he too


tightly tied, but also he simply no longer had the strength. This was


the tenth time in a row that the Chinese had used the plastic bag to


choke him with and as with the other times he carried on until right


before Jamie became unconscious, reducing him to a mass of panic. Panic


and lust that was. Jamie's cock still tried to get hard each time the


bag was pulled over his head, something the Chinese had mercifully not


noticed.




Finally the bag was pulled off and the Chinese turned to new


acquisition, for whom the demonstration had been. The gentleman's


attention shifted completely and Jamie now stood on the table as some


forgotten and discarded toy. The Chinese removed his new slave's gag and


looked inquisitively at him. He didn't have to wait for long before the


former hotel employee, who had wet himself from fear during Jamie's


torture session, blurted out: "Please Master I'll be ever so good.


Please keep me as a fucktoy, please don't hurt me, please…" The pathetic


little creep continued to cry out his new found devotion to the Chinese


gentleman, who simply smiled and took out his cock, showing it into the


slave's mouth and thus silencing his pleas. Jamie then recognized the


eager slurping sounds of a cocksucker trying too hard to please and saw


the Chinese gentleman's hand grab the back of his new toy's head.




After that the Chinese gentleman, his lust for inflicting pain


temporarily sated, lost interest in Jamie who was released from his


bonds by the young assistant who had received him. He also saw to it


that Jamie, now almost unconscious from pain, was handed back to Frank.


Frank, however, would not tolerate Jamie's resting and soon the


whimpering slave boy was limping in front of Frank out of the hotel. The


size of his badly mangled balls made walking extremely painful, but of


course there was no respite for him. Soon he was "home", kneeling in


front of Frank to provide oral service before being tied up and finally


allowed to sleep.




His last month of "freedom" went like that. When he wasn't at work he


was being fucked or punished by someone, either Frank or some other


Master, until it was time for him to be tied up and allowed to sleep.


Every minute not used for either work or service Jamie spent practicing


walking properly in heels or other vital slave skills. By the end of the


month Jamie no longer thought escape was even an option. Escape was


impossible and although he didn't want a (short) lifetime of brutal


slavery and would rather be allowed to live normally as before, he was


beginning to enjoy both the fuckings, the punishments and the slave


attire (or lack of same) entirely too much for his own liking. He now


found his regular shoes clunky and ugly, preferring his sexy stilettos


and the seductive way they made his ass sway. Jamie was no longer able


to recall the feel of cotton or silk on his ass, since all he had felt


on it for a month had been either rubber or nothing. Jamie feared


becoming a slave more than anything, feared being taken away by Master,


but in reality he was already well on his way to becoming a full-time


slave of both body and mind.




Chapter 4


The day had finally arrived. It was now exactly one month


since Master set him free after the "test weekend" and Jamie was in a


state of high terror. His options were fast diminishing and his chances


of escaping a lifetime of slavery were running out. In spite of a cock


straining against its cage at the delicious prospect of being fucked by


Master, Jamie did not want this. He knew that if once Master took him,


it would be for good. That was too much. He had learned a great deal


about his own submissive tendencies in the last month, learned how much


he loved being strangled, how he could enjoy submission and even pain to


some extent, but if Master took him it would be too much. Too much


control, too much torture and submission without end. And it would be


final. Jamie had learned to embrace his own submissiveness, but had


found that the domination offered by Master, and the level of submission


he demanded, was far too much.




This posed an enormous problem. Master hadn't asked him if he wanted to


submit; he had demanded it. This meant that Jamie would have to run for


it in order to escape. And if he ran and got caught his situation would


probably be so much worse than if he simply submitted, even if it was


hard to imagine for Jamie, he had no doubt that it was so. And besides,


how was he going to escape when Frank was watching his every step,


escorting him at all times? Jamie had left his apartment this morning in


Frank's company and now, as he left his job after saying goodbye to his


colleagues, he sat in Frank's car on his way to becoming Master's slave.


How was he going to escape? Although he sat absolutely still so as not


anger Frank, Jamie felt completely desperate, trapped and alone.




He broke out of this depressing train of thoughts when Frank stopped the


car. Jamie had expected them to be either at the club or at Master's


home. They were not. Frank had parked the car in an alley in one of the


seedier neighborhoods of town. There was no sign of Master. Frank told


Jamie to get out of the car as he came around to his side of the car.


Jamie obeyed instantly, just as he did when Frank ordered him to strip.


Soon he stood naked in the alley, wearing only his butt plug and his


chastity device. Then Frank removed Jamie's butt plug, threw him a pair


of white, ankle high stilettos boots and told him to put them on. Of


course Jamie complied instantly, loving the feel of the much too small


six-inch stilettos on his feet, squeezing his feet painfully but


improving his posture immeasurably. When the boots were on his feet,


Frank secured them there with a padlock and then placed a white leather


collar around Jamie's neck, also securing this one with a padlock.




Taking Jamie by the arm he then marched the naked slave boy around the


corner and into the street. Here even a slave as comparatively well


trained as Jamie balked. His enslavement was bad enough, but to be put


on public display! His resistance was short-lived and soon Frank had


dragged Jamie, now sporting a pair of very red cheeks, in to full view


in the street. He dragged Jamie all the way out to the curb. Here he


used a spray can to draw up a small square, two feet by two feet, on the


pavement. He placed Jamie inside the square and hung a sign from Jamie's


collar. It said: "Property of Master van der Graaf. No touching!" Then


he spoke: "You will wait here until you are picked up. Keep your hands


behind your back and do not move outside the square I have drawn!" Then,


without another word and without looking back he walked away, leaving


Jamie alone at the curb.




Jamie had never felt more embarrassed and exposed than he did now.


Except for a collar, a pair of stiletto boots, a chastity device a small


sign, not even reaching past his nipples, he was completely naked. He


wanted to run and hide, but he didn't dare move. Even after he had seen


Frank's car drive away he didn't dare use his hands to cover his front.


He realized that this was his last chance to escape. The butt plug with


the tracking device had been removed and Frank was nowhere to be seen.


If he waited for the pickup his fate was sealed and only a life of


slavery, brutal and harsh, awaited him. But if he ran he might be even


worse off. If he was caught he was sure to face extremely brutal and


prolonged torture and his life would in all likelihood be even shorter


than the already short and painful slave existence he was looking at.


And although he might not be able to see Frank, he could be parked just


around the corner. Other guards could be posted just to test his


obedience. The dilemma made Jamie whine with desperation. If he stayed


put he was doomed, but if ran he might be in even worse trouble. He


cried with desperation as he thought about this, trembling as he sobbed,


but still so well conditioned that his hands remained at his back.




After thirty minutes it became apparent even to Jamie that he was too


well trained and too afraid of Master to try running. He still stood at


the curb with his hands clasped behind his back, his feet in the exact


same position as when Frank had left him. His fate now apparently sealed


he began to look around. He had been so absorbed with his dilemma that


he hadn't really seen where he was. It wasn't just any old street that


Frank had deposited him in. The street was full of sex shops and seedy


strip bars and there were prostitutes everywhere. One particular type of


prostitute in fact. The street was the place for the shemale whores. All


around him were shemales, some very feminine and almost


indistinguishable from real women and some more obviously showing off


what they had once been. Until now they had kept their distance to the


crying slave boy, but now a couple of them moved closer.




"Are you alright honey?" one of the asked Jamie. She was small and


extremely curvy shemale with big tits and long, smooth black hair. She


was wearing a strapless leopard skin dress, clinging to her skin and a


pair of leopard skin stilettos. Her big brown eyes looked concerned and


her full, red lips wore a pout expressing similar sentiment. Jamie


blinked away his tears, but didn't know how to answer at first. Then he


simply said in a tiny hopeless voice: "I don't dare run, but if I stay


he's going to take me away and do terrible things to me." The leopard


skin whore nodded her head as her friend chipped in: "We know honey,


it's hard. If what we've heard about Master van der Graf is true, you're


in a tight spot." As she mentioned Master's name the leopard skin whore


shivered visibly. Her friend, the one who had spoken last, was a huge,


black, muscular shemale. She wore a very short and very tight black


leather mini skirt and a very tight white sweater, accentuating her


truly enormous tits. On her feet were shiny black stilettos. Unlike her


friend in leopard skin, who had a deep and sensuous voice, the muscular


shemale had a high soprano. The shemale in the leopard skin dress spoke,


her voice now much shakier than before: "Master van der Graf is


certainly a strict master," she said as an involuntary shiver underlined


her statement, "but you did the right thing in not running." Jamie


lifted his head as she continued: "Maybe there are none of Master van


der Graf's men around, but this is Master Antwan's turf and he would


most certainly catch you and deliver you to your owner. And then you'd


have been even worse off."




Jamie's spirits lifted ever so slightly at this and she continued:


"Estella here and I belong to Master Antwan." A look passed between the


two shemales and then they lifted up their miniscule skirts, the leopard


lady first, then a little later Estelle. The leopard lady was extremely


well endowed, but her big cock was imprisoned in a chastity device


exactly like Jamie's own. "Master Antwan caught me six years ago and put


this cage on me and he hasn't let haven't cum since then, the evil shit.


The frustration drives me crazy; especially since all I ever do is have


sex. I'm a fucking whore, getting screwed all day long and I never get


off! Never!" Her voice filled with tears as she spoke and then she


added: "But I'm fortunate." She nodded at Estelle who had lifted up her


skirt by now. In Estelle's crotch hung her tiny and now useless member,


completely limp. Estelle had been castrated and through the head of her


useless cock a very large, steel ring had been placed. "I loved Master


Rick and went into slavery willingly," she said in her high and squeaky


voice, "I loved him when he bound me and fucked me and I even loved him


when he turned me into his sissy bitch. I was his slave for a year. Then


he tired of me and sold me to Master Antwan five month's ago. Master


Antwan promptly took my balls and sent me out on the street as soon as


the wounds had healed."




This crushed Jamie's spirits again and he began crying. What had


happened to the two shemale was terrible and it was apparent, at least


from the leopard lady, that they thought his Master was brutal. He was


lost! The only positive thing was that he had been right in staying put.


Running would undoubtedly have been worse if what they said about Master


Antwan's grip on the neighborhood was correct.




As if to confirm this a man stepped out of the shadows and approached


the two whores and the slave boy. The whores had been very careful not


to touch him, just as the sign around his neck told then to, but they


stood close and tried to comfort him. When they saw the man approaching


both jumped away with a look of pure terror on their faces. "Getting


cozy with the little bitch-boy, are we?" the man drawled dangerously. He


was a huge black man, more than a little fat and with him came a whole


group of his bodyguards and such. Looking over his shoulder Jamie saw


that they apparently had been sitting inside the building right behind


them where the windows were open. Fear leaking out of their voices both


whores replied: "Master Antwan, no Master Antwan." They had dropped to


their knees and were worshipping Master Antwan's boots as they spoke.




"Now Roxy," Master Antwan said as he addressed the whore in the leopard


skin dress, "I believe you expressed unhappiness at having your needy


cock restrained. Unhappiness about me as a person?" Roxy whined with


terror as he assured Master Antwan that she had never meant to express


dissatisfaction, that she loved her master and that she loved everything


he had done to her. Master Antwan smiled at her when she had finished


her assurances, a smile of such malice that Roxy actually screamed with


fear. Master Antwan nodded his head and soon four men held Roxy down by


her arms and legs, spreading them as wide as possible. A fifth man knelt


down and pulled up her dress. Then he removed her chastity device and


when this happened Roxy went hysterical with fear, screaming and crying


for Master Antwan to stop, that she'd be a good girl. None of it helped.




Master Antwan turned to Estelle who stood completely still, frozen with


fear as a stream of piss ran down her leg. Smiling at this sign of her


terror, Master Antwan addressed her: "Now Estelle, you are a good bitch,


aren't you" Estelle was hardly able to form the words, but in the end


she did manage to squeak that she was indeed a good bitch. "Alright then


Estelle," he continued, "then you'll have no trouble following every


little order I give?" In the background Roxy was screaming for mercy as


Estelle answered that she would indeed follow her master's orders. "Good


girl," Master Antwan said in his most condescending tone, "then I want


you to step on that bitch's balls as hard you can." Roxy's pleas reached


a new high as Estelle swallowed hard. "Pierce her balls with your heels


and when you've managed that, use your heels to scrape out all that is


inside." Estelle keened with terror at this command, but was completely


unable to disobey. Trying not to look at her friend's face, she stepped


in between her legs and lifted up her foot. Roxy's pleas were now even


more desperate, but there was no way around it. Estelle brought her heel


down on Roxy's left testicle as hard as she could. Judging from Roxy's


scream it was very hard indeed, but it wasn't quite hard enough to


pierce the skin and so Estelle had to do again. It took her ten tries


before she pierced Roxy's left testicle and by then Roxy had been


reduced to bubbling wreck, sobbing and screaming when she wasn't


vomiting from the extreme pain. With her heel inside Roxy's testicle,


Estelle, who looked sick also, started to scrape the contents out of it.


This naturally made Roxy pass out, but that didn't stop Master Antwan.


One of his helpers had a small vial of smelling salt and soon the by now


completely desperate Roxy was once again conscious, able to bear the


full brunt of the terrible torture inflicted on her.




Estelle's stomping around in Roxy ruined crotch continued until Roxy had


only threads of skin left where her balls had been and Master Antwan was


satisfied. She was still screaming weakly, lying in a pool of vomit


mixed with blood. "Estelle, you useless bitch," he spat at her, "go make


money for me, you worthless cow." Estelle scampered off down the street


to try to pick up a customer. He then turned to the guys holding the


ruined sissy and said: "Take her to doctor Jacobsen and get her patched


up." Two of the men stopped the bleeding in Roxy's crotch with a rag and


dragged her into a car. Just before they closed the door, Master Antwan


shouted after them. "And get him to pump up her tits. 52 DD at least!"


Then the car door closed and they drove off with the castrated


sissy-slave.




Jamie had watched in horror, but without moving an inch. He had pissed


on himself, but his hands were still clasped behind his back and his


feet had not moved an inch. Neither Master Antwan nor any of his men had


paid even the slightest bit of attention to him and they displayed


absolutely no interest as they walked away, leaving him in the same


place Frank had put him, but now right beside a pool of blood and vomit.




Soon the street was empty, except for the other, now horrified, shemale


whores. They were all no doubt the property of Master Antwan and the


castration had undoubtedly also been a display of power for them to see.


They kept a healthy distance to Jamie as they strutted their stuff.


Occasionally a car pulled up and one of the whores got in. The cars also


cruised past Jamie at slow speed, but when they saw the sign and the


pool of blood right next to him they sped off.




After a couple of hours it began to rain and soon Jamie was soaked. It


became very cold for the naked slave boy, who now stood shivering with


chattering teeth. The only good thing about it was that it washed away


the traces of Master Antwan's display of power.




Evening became night and still the rain fell on the paralyzed slave. The


shemale whores had retreated into doorways and only came out if cars


cruised by at low speed. Jamie had been standing at the curb for at


least seven hours when a police car cruised by. Jamie's heart leapt and


hope filled him once again, but he was too cautious and too cowed to


move his feet or to use his hands. As the police cruiser pulled up, this


proved to be a good thing. The window of the car was rolled down and a


chubby white face looked out at him and his sign. The police man took it


all in, turned to his partner and said something before the car took of


with a howl of laughter.




Finally, in early hours of the morning and with the rain still pouring


down, a huge limousine and a big, black van pulled up and as the window


of the limousine slid down Jamie could see Master sitting inside. He had


lost. Master had come to get him and he was never going to let him go.


Jamie felt a brief and perverse moment of pride when he saw that Master


had a grim smile of satisfaction on his face, clearly satisfaction that


his slave had remained in place. Two large men came out of the van


following the limousine. One carried an umbrella which he opened right


before the limousine door opened and Master got out. The man held the


umbrella so that it covered Master, but not Jamie. Master took in his


shivering slave boy and spoke briefly: "It may be possible to train even


a useless shit like you." Then turning to the two men he continued:


"Take him and wait for me at the van."




The man not holding the umbrella moved quickly and exceedingly


efficiently and even if Jamie had tried to resist it was highly doubtful


if it would have made any difference. In a matter of minutes his arms


and hands had been sealed inside a white, rubber armbinder tied so


tightly that his elbows touched. A massive white ballgag was forced into


his mouth and then he was taken to the van. As the backdoors opened he


stopped in shock. Inside the van, sitting on benches along the sides,


torsos, legs and feet strapped to the van, were at least ten other slave


boys dressed and tied exactly as he was. The fact that Master had


seemingly taken so many at once and was subjecting them to the same


treatment at the same time, because he had to assume that these slave


boys had been through the same things he had, boggled his mind.




He was so shocked that he didn't even notice the men strapping him down


and soon he sat with the others, waiting for whatever terrible fate


Master had in mind for them. On the floor of the van were two more


slaves. These were tied up just like Jamie and the others, but seemed


much more desperate. Whereas Jamie and the others sat docilely awaiting


their fate, these two struggled futilely against their bonds, crying and


begging behind their gags. The reason for their desperation became


apparent as Master came to the backdoor. Sharing the shelter under his


umbrella was now Master Antwan. The two slaves on the floor were pulled


to their feet and as he handed them over Master explained: "They tried


to run. This can of course not be tolerated." Master Antwan made an


understanding sound as he looked at the two slaves put before him. "I


understand that you are about to make one of your special movies,


Antwan?" Master asked. "Indeed I am, Robert," Master Antwan answered,


"and I think it most appropriate that these two are excellent candidates


to star in it. It'll be a long and painful shoot my bitches, but at


least you'll have the pleasure of extended and very, very realistic


strangulations, which I understand both of you love." The two runaways


screamed behind their gags as Master Antwan's men took them away as


Master and Master Antwan laughed. "It's been a pleasure, Robert," Master


Antwan said as they shook hands, "I'll keep a lookout for more


candidates for you." The last sentence was accompanied by a glance at


the bound slave boys in the van, suggesting that more than one of them


had been picked out for Master's attention by Master Antwan.




With that the two masters said their goodbyes and shut the door to the


terrified slaves, who were then left in darkness. Jamie then felt the


van accelerate as they drove off. By now he was almost numb with terror


and completely paralyzed. His will to flee had been removed and although


the prospect of a lifetime of slavery loomed before him, he no longer


thought he could escape.




The drive took a long time, during which there was complete and utter


silence among the slaves in the van. It was as if no one dared even sob


or breathe loudly. Finally the van came to a halt and the doors were


opened. The two men came in and began removing the straps securing them


to the van after which the slaves were lined up outside the van. There


were no attempts at escape and Master was nowhere around. Jamie was one


of the first ones out of the van and he tried to see where he was.


Although it was very dark, he did manage to make out that they were


standing at what looked like the back entrance to a very large house, or


more accurately a castle-like structure.




When all the slave boys were out of the van, they were led into the


house and into a small room with no windows and a cement floor. There


was no light in the room, at least not one that was turned on and the


slaves stood close right inside the door looking bewildered at the dark


and completely bare room. One of the men said: "Goodnight, bitches.


Sleep tight." He then chuckled before closing the door and plunging the


room into complete darkness. The darkness was complete, not even a tiny


ray of light creeping under the door. Jamie couldn't see anything, but


he clearly felt the smooth bodies of the slaves standing next to him. A


few could be heard uttering muffled sounds behind their gags and at


least one was crying, but even after an extended period of time had his


eyes had not adjusted enough to see anything. The darkness really was


complete.




Eventually the slaves got tired and one or two tried to sit. This


resulted in a domino effect and soon they had all fallen over and lay in


large tangle of bound bodies, smooth legs and stiletto-clad feet. But


all were tired and needed to rest and even if there wasn't enough room


for all of them on the floor and everyone had someone else resting


against them, many, including Jamie simply fell asleep bound and gagged


lying against his fellow slaves on a cold cement floor.




Chapter 5


Jamie was neither prepared for nor rested when the light


suddenly came on and a voice blared through hidden speakers that it was


time for them to wake. A groan, or more like a whimper, went through the


mass of enslaved and feminized bitch-boys. Jamie felt moisture on his


cheek and as he looked up he caught the embarrassed look on the face of


the slave boy whose crotch he had been resting in. The slave's chastity


device dripped pre-cum and Jamie could see his cock straining against


its imprisonment.




Then the door was opened and two huge men began pulling the slave boys


to their feet. In a matter of minutes the all stood in the hallway,


shivering and afraid. An order was given and the slaves were marched


off. After a bit of walking they were led into what was unmistakably a


dungeon. It was huge and from the looks of the rack and shelves filled


with torture equipment, it was also terrifyingly well-equipped. It was


clearly Master's private dungeon and Jamie had no doubt that he would


spend far too much time in it. The column of slaves was brought to a


halt after which the two men placed the slaves kneeling in a


semi-circle. The slaves offered no resistance whatsoever and the job was


quickly done. Jamie knelt at the far right end of the semi-circle and as


such had the chance to count the number of new slaves. Counting himself


there were twelve new slaves in the semi-circle.




Twelve new slave boys. Twelve young men who had presumably all been


selected and trained for to be Master's property. And these were only


the ones who had made it this far. Jamie remembered the two slaves from


the night before and wondered how many had been dropped before that


moment. It was staggering and absolutely terrifying.




Jamie's thoughts were interrupted as Master van der Graf entered the


room. With him came three slaves, but for the moment Jamie's was too


preoccupied with Master to see the others properly. Master was not a man


to mince with words and so he began straightaway: "Stupid, worthless,


pathetic bitch-boys," he bellowed to the cowering slave boys. "You exist


for one thing and one thing only: to please me." Master looked at all


the slaves and the continued: "You are here for one thing: the race to


become my new favorite slave." This got the attention of all the slave


boys and although no one looked up Jamie could feel the tension rising


among them.




"If you should win, you will take the place of Manuel here." Master


indicated a slave boy standing on his left hand side, his head demurely


bowed. As Jamie saw the slave boy he gasped behind his gag, as did all


the other slave boys. Manuel was a slight and very sexy young man


completely hairless, bald with only hair in his eyebrows and fine,


smooth skin. Or at least it would have been smooth if it hadn't been for


the many marks of systematic torture: old bruises and scars competed for


the space on his skin. But that wasn't what scared Jamie and the others.


No, the scars were the least of it. Manuel had no arms. His shoulders


were smooth and looked almost as if he had never had any arms. Almost.


He was naked except for his chastity device and a pair of fierce ballet


boots reaching all the way up to his knees. They were shiny and black


and looked at least two sizes too small, with a heel of nine inches or


more. They were so small in fact that they hadn't been put on like


regular boots, but rather assembled on Manuel's feet by bringing the


upper and lower half of the boot together around his leg and the


securing them in place with severe looking clasps. The effect was a very


sexy and very severe compression of the foot and leg and wonderful


posture for the armless slave.




His waist was compressed too, by a surprisingly narrow corset, which


constricted his waist down to an almost absurd diameter. Jamie guessed,


correctly, that Manuel would have to breathe in small, shallow gasps.




Manuel stood absolutely still at his owner's side, not even wearing a


collar. The reason for the absence of a collar was apparent in the


severe bruising, both by rope and by hand, around his neck. Master's


favorite was obviously subjected to severe breathplay on a regular


basis.




Manuel was devastatingly sexy and as Jamie noticed a single drop of


pre-cum glistening on the tip of his chastity device, Manuel probably


thought that his position was desirable, even if he had no arms.




The fact that Manuel's position was to be preferred over any of the


other positions "offered" by Master was confirmed as he continued: "If


you fail to take Manuel's place you might be lucky enough to end up like


number 59 here." An involuntary whine of terror went through the


forcibly assembled contestants as number 59 stepped forward.




Number 59 was a faceless rubber doll and a severely restrained one at


that. On his feet were tiny, black, ankle-high stiletto boots with


seven-inch heels. The whole rest of him, save for a few, small,


strategically placed holes, was covered in thick, white rubber. Like


Manuel, number 59's waist was compressed by a small, black corset as was


his neck, but other than that every square-inch of his body was covered


with red rubber, from his legs to the top of his head and all the way


out to the tips of his fingers. On his forehead, his chest and his back


the words: "Slave #59" were printed in black. His ankles were connected


by a chain of no more than six inches, as were his wrists and the chain


connecting his wrists was secured to a chain around his waist.




The suit had tiny holes at his nostrils and an opening at his mouth, but


this opening had been plugged by a giant, black penis-gag. His eyes were


hidden behind smoked glass lenses, which were an integral part of his


suit. The biggest opening in the suit was at his crotch where it could


be seen that his ass was plugged by a something so big that a handle


almost a full foot in length stuck out. All of this was terrifying in


itself, but what made the slave boys scream was number 59's genitals, or


rather lack thereof. Number 59 had been castrated and the space once


occupied by his balls had been taken up by a massive steel slave-ring.


His cock, now tiny and limp, was held and compressed by a small steel


tube, which was held in place by two steel rods piercing number 59's now


useless cock. Number 59's cock had been pierced through the head and a


heavy steel ring carrying a one pound lead weight for good measure hung


from it.




While keening in terror along with the other new slaves, Jamie wondered


how number 59 might possibly be considered lucky. Master answered the


question for him: "If you displease me, however, you will share a fate


similar to this bitch." The third slave was pushed forward, landing at


Master's feet. His feet were clad in stilettos, but other than that he


was completely naked. His arms were tied in a very severe back-prayer, a


binding they would never recover from since they had been tied using


barbed wire. Where the barbed wire didn't cut into the flesh it had


turned blue from being tied too tightly for too long. He was gagged with


what looked like a dirty rag and his entire body was covered fresh


bruises and welts. It looked like he had been whipped with just about


everything Jamie could think of, including barbed wire.




But he was still alive and he was scrambling desperately to kiss


Master's boots, to plead and beg him. Master ignored him at first and


instead turned to Manuel: "Blowjob," he simply said to his armless


favorite. Instantly Manuel dropped to his knees in front of Master and


began opening Master's trousers with his mouth, a task made even more


difficult by the fact that he had no teeth. Manuel, however, had had


plenty of practice and soon his soft lips enveloped Master's huge cock.


A look of pure blissful submission was painted on his face as he sucked


his owner's cock eagerly.




His cock inside Manuel's soft and talented mouth Master turned his


attention to the beaten and tortured slave in front of him. Taking his


time he stood him up and removed his gag, so that he could hear the


slave's pathetic begging. He didn't listen for long, however. With a


look of evil pleasure he closed both hands around the slave's throat and


began squeezing. Instantly the sound of begging stopped and the slave's


feet began to move frantically. Soon the slave's stiletto-clad feet were


doing a desperate dance almost a foot off the ground as Master lifted


him up while he squeezed. The slave boy's struggling reached a frantic


peak, his feet kicking wildly, hitting Manuel in the head and back. This


didn't stop his devoted sucking and as Master's pleasure mounted, so the


slave's struggles began to subside. His frantic kicking became weak


twitching and as his feet twitched for the last time he lost control of


his bladder and bowel. At that moment Master came and Manuel was quick


to push his head as far down over his owner's cock as he could, making


sure that he swallowed everything he was given. His orgasm over Master


threw the dead slave away and had Manuel close his fly before getting up


and taking up position right behind him.




Jamie and all the other new slaves were absolutely terrified and more


than one, including Jamie, had pissed themselves with fear. All waited


in terror for Master's next words. First, however, Master called for


number 59 who scampered over as fast as his hobbled feet would allow.


Without speaking a word Master removed number 59's penis gag, which


proved to be both outrageously long and wide. Number 59 knew what was


expected of him and he dropped to his knees as gracefully as the chain


connecting his ankles would allow, which wasn't very graceful, more like


a nasty fall. He then leaned forward and began licking the floor clean,


not only eating the shit and piss from the now dead slave, but also the


piss spilled by the terrified newcomers.




Only when number 59 had finished cleaning the floor and was once again


standing behind Master, his gag strapped securely in place, did Master


speak: "You exist only to please me; nothing else," he said, "remember


that always. If you are very, very good you might replace Manuel, but


you will have to prove that you are a better cocksucker, have a more


inviting ass and that you are a better slave than him in order for that


to happen." Jamie swallowed involuntarily. Having seen the superbly


graceful and skilled slave boy in action Jamie thought that was nearly


impossible. "If you fail at that you might be good enough to become one


of my devoted house-slaves, like number 59," Master continued, "but you


will have to be very skilled and obedient to be allowed to join them."


The prospect of becoming a castrated rubber-slave as a reward for good


behavior was hard to swallow, but the alternative Master outlined was


even worse: "If you fail at both your fate will be like the bitch I just


strangled. Only you can't expect to get off that easily. Be good,


bitches."




With this final admonishment, Master left his new batch of slave boys in


a state of acute fear. All of them, including Jamie, thought that the


best they could hope for was to become a castrated, shit-eating


rubber-bitch, a fate none thought attractive in the least way. Only it


was far better than the alternative most thought. None thought they


would be able to best or even match Manuel.




Chapter 6


After Master left the dungeon, his men came to prepare the


slave boys for their new lives. The first step was to remove all of


their body hair - permanently, something achieved with the application


of a very nasty smelling crème. Jamie was convinced that the crème would


burn his skin, but when it was rinsed off, his skin was smooth and


hairless and it remained that way. The slaves were then fitted with


their new uniform: white, ankle-high stiletto boots, with a seven-inch


metal heel. They were much, much too small and hurt Jamie's feet


horribly, but still he loved them. Jamie couldn't admit to himself


loving most of what was done to him, but he had to admit that he loved


wearing heels, the higher the heel, the better; the smaller and finer


the shoe, the better. When he felt them squeezing his feet in a


deliciously painful manner, his imprisoned cock once again strained


against it's cage.




Next came a corset. It was made from steel reinforced leather and


extended from just below his ribs, to just above his hips. When it had


been tightened Jamie's breathing had been reduced to labored gasps. Then


a collar was secured around his neck. It was more of a neck corset


really, again from steel reinforced, white leather and it kept Jamie's


chin up and insured that he only looked straight ahead. A large steel


ring dangled down the front.




Finally his ankles were connected by a chain no more than eight inches


long and his wrists, which had been fitted with semi-permanent manacles,


were secured to steel rings in the sides of the corset.




Jamie was somewhat surprised that he was left ungagged, but his surprise


soon turned to sheer horror as he was lined up in front of a dentist's


chair together with all the other new slave boys. One by one they were


strapped down in the chair and two of Master's men removed their teeth


none too gently. Like all the new slaves Jamie cried and whimpered with


horror and just like the others he was far too afraid to run or even


object. Soon he too stood in the line of crying, toothless slave boys.


Their mouths were rinsed with a liquid closing and disinfecting the


wounds and then they were finally all gagged with huge penis gags made


from white rubber.




Thus prepared their training and selection began. The method employed by


Master and his men was simple and extremely brutal. The new slaves were


tested for a number of qualities: devotion, stamina, obedience and


endless variations of these themes.




Tests and training sessions for stamina were invariably outrageously


brutal, painful and protracted: electrical torture to the most sensitive


parts of the body a favorite of Master's. In one such test Jamie was


placed on his back on a metal "horse", a bar about two feet long and


eight inches wide. It stood on four sturdy steel legs or posts and Jamie


was placed so that his back was supported only by eight inches of steel.


His arms and legs were secured so that his arms were tied to the posts


closest to his ass and his legs to the posts closest to head. The


position was strenuous and painful in itself, but that was far from the


end it. Large alligator clamps with strong springs were placed around


his balls, making him scream in pain. He didn't scream for long,


however, as Master forced his giant cock down Jamie's throat and began


fucking his face, deep and hard.




Jamie was now in great pain; his back felt like it was breaking and his


balls were being crushed, but the presence of Master's cock in his mouth


and throat focused Jamie's mind. Since arriving in Master's dungeon


Jamie had undergone a change. He no longer thought of escape or of how


short and brutal his life was going to be. He now focused entirely on


how he could please Master best. And he absolutely loved sucking


Master's magnificent cock. Since seeing Manuel please Master


cock-sucking had become an obsession for Jamie. Not only did he strive


to replace Manuel, the fear of castration was always with him as it


indeed was with all the new slave boys, but he had found that having


Master's cock in his mouth was intensely pleasurable for him even if he


was unable to cum. He was beginning to love Master and was already well


on his way to being supremely grateful for being captured and abused.




Meanwhile Master's cock pumped in and out of Jamie's throat, cutting his


breath off for quite long periods of time. This invariably made him


thrash and twitch as he became ever more desperate for air and the


thrashing only made his position worse. To make matters worse Master had


picked up a large wooden paddle and was now using it to beat Jamie's


balls in rhythm with his strokes in and out of Jamie's mouth and throat;


every time Master had pushed his cock all the way in a blow would land


on Jamie's exposed balls and every time Master had pulled his cock


almost all the way out and stood ready for another thrust, a new blow


would fall. After just two blows the pain became unbearable and Jamie


began screaming a squirming beneath his owner, while still making sure


to keep his lips and tongue on Master's cock at all times.




Jamie's world narrowed down to the intense pain in his balls in


particular and his whole body in general on one side and the intense


pleasure of being allowed to blow his Master on the other.




Unable to focus on anything else but this combination of pleasure and


pain, Jamie's affection for his owner grew and he actually tried to keen


with delight as Master's load filled his mouth and throat, almost


drowning him. Jamie took great pride in the fact that he had managed to


swallow all of his owner's load, not spilling a single drop.




As Master withdrew it was to the sound of profuse thank-you's from his


slave boy. Gratitude, however, was secondary to Master whereas the


ability to take pain, while still screaming and squirming properly was


of much great priority. So while Jamie babbled his devotion out, Master


connected the alligator clamps on Jamie's balls to a generator and as he


turned on the power, sending current through Jamie's balls, Jamie's


babbling turned to desperate screaming and his squirming turned to


thrashing and jerking.




Then the current was cut off and Jamie's screams again turned to inane


babbling only to turn into screaming again as Master began whipping his


slave boy's front with a rawhide strap, systematically covering his


front with angry, red welts. After that he used electricity once again


before he finally stopped. There was, however, no relief for Jamie as


three of Master's men took over, switching between fucking his face and


punishing him. They kept this up for hours, until Jamie's voice broke


and he fainted.




There were endless punishments and equally endless and brutal fuckings,


all part of Master's testing and selection program. When Jamie and the


other weren't undergoing some particular test or punishment that had to


do with their selection, they functioned as house slaves and followed


the silent, faceless, sexless and rubberized slaves around, doing what


they did. Jamie never heard any of the house slave emit any other sound


than small, breathless moans and soon Jamie began to suspect, correctly,


that all of them had had their vocal cords removed. Jamie never saw any


of their faces either and indeed the only uncovered part of any of the


house slaves that he saw, was their open mouths and on occasion a


glimpse of buttock when the brutal plugs were retracted. The house


slaves lived as silent and faceless rubberized ghosts endlessly used and


abused and never acknowledged.




Jamie counted ten of them in all, their numbers ranging from 42 to 67.


There was no indication of what had happened to the missing numbers but


Jamie could easily guess. Pictures of Master strangling rubberized


slaves, holding his cock down their throats until they stopped twitching


or simply fucking them to death flashed before his inner eye.




The house slaves did all the domestic work around the house and one of


their functions was being a toilet and toilet paper. For one week at a


time a house slave would be shoved down a transparent plastic tube, have


his head tilted upwards and a funnel inserted into his mouth. For a full


week he would then function as the communal toilet, servicing both


Master and all of his men, eating only shit and drinking only urine.


After a week he would be shifted to another tube, this time with his


head sticking out and his mouth left ungagged so that he could lick the


asses of the ones who had just used the toilet clean. After a week of


this he would then be shifted back to less disgusting duties and a new


one would take his place.




When it was Jamie's turn to function as a toilet he nearly cracked, but


already his conditioning was nearly unbreakable. He docilely accepted


his assignment and after a few minutes he was locked inside a plastic


tube completely unable to move. He looked straight up through the clear,


glass funnel that was the toilet and which was locked into his throat.




Eating shit was easily the most disgusting and degrading thing he had


ever done. He had been reduced to an object; forced into a painfully


cramped position where his mouth was constantly filled with shit. Master


or any other man taking a dump would look down at him with scorn as he


dropped his pants. Then Jamie's world would go dark as Master's ass


blocked out most of the light and then warm and revolting shit would


fall into his mouth and he would be forced to swallow all if it. Many


times several of Master's men would take up position around the toilet


and take a leak in his mouth at the same time. In the beginning Jamie


came close to drowning a few times, but by the end of the week he had


become an expert at gulping down the disgusting, salty liquid.




After a week he was let out of the tube for a brief period of time, just


long enough to exercise his joints a bit before he was once again


stuffed into a tube, this time as a piece of barely human toilet paper.


While not quite as disgusting as his duties as a toilet, Jamie time as


toilet paper was intensely degrading, perhaps even more degrading as his


duties as a toilet. As toilet paper he was faced with an endless parade


of asses which he then had to lean into and give the best licking he


could possibly produce. When the ass was as clean as he could possibly


get it, he had to thank the man who's shit he had just eaten.




If Jamie hadn't already been thoroughly broken the two weeks in the


toilet would have done. Now they merely reinforced his by now super


submissive personality and thus made him a better slave, or rather a


better object for Master's evil machinations.




Chapter 7


The twelve new slave boys didn't even know each other's names.


Speaking was strictly forbidden and impossible most of the time. The


slaves wore their uniforms 24/7 and this included the gags. The gags


even had small bore holes in them so that the slaves could be fed


through them. Only once a week was Jamie's uniform removed so that Jamie


could be washed thoroughly. This of course included a series of brutal


enemas, even more brutal than the three daily ones he had to endure.


Often Jamie would be filled up with water, his ass plugged so that he


couldn't expel the liquid, while he was forced to blow Master or several


of his men. This was extremely unpleasant, making Jamie sweat and moan


with exertion, something which of course only enhanced Master's


enjoyment of the scene.




At night the slave slept standing up so as to conserve space that could


be used for other and more worthy purposes, wider hallways for instance.


The slaves were led into a tiny room where a large number of dildos on


telescopic poles rose out of the floor. Jamie would be positioned over


one such dildo and the pole would rise until Jamie was properly impaled.


When the dildo was all the way in there was no way that Jamie could lift


himself off it. A chain hanging down from the ceiling would then be


secured to the back of his collar and he would be blindfolded and left


for the night. Jamie had no chance to talk to any of the other slave


boys at any time and he never knew any of their names, since they were


all just called dirty names by Master and everyone else. As he fell


asleep after yet another exhausting day of abuse and humiliation he


could heard the soft whimpers of his fellow slaves as they too drifted


off into their respective nightmares. Jamie's own nightmares, which were


probably about the same things as all the other slave's, were roughly


about two things: inadequacy and frustration. He dreamt about trying


desperately and failing to please Master, a type of dream which made him


deeply unhappy and which ha endless variations: failing to swallow all


of Master's load, not being a good enough shit-eater and so on. His


other main dream was always the same: Jamie, wearing only a pair of


stilettos and completely unrestrained, was standing on all fours as


Master took him from behind. Master's strokes were deep and hard and his


expert hands were stroking Jamie's rock-hard cock. In the dream Jamie


was moaning with pleasure, screaming out his love for the evil man who


was fucking him. A deep sense of well being flowed through Jamie as his


orgasm approached. Only he couldn't cum. No matter how hard he tried, no


matter how hard Master tried, Jamie could never cum in his dream and he


always woke up crying with frustration, futile and useless pre-cum


dripping from the cruel cage holding his cock.




Soon the twelve new slave boys were reduced in number. The first to go


was a slave who drowned in urine while serving his duty as a toilet and


only two weeks later another one drowned in the toilet, this time in


shit. Jamie saw this slave, shit standing several inches high in the


transparent funnel, the slave's lifeless eyes looking up through the


glass.




Two more were quickly eliminated from the race to become Master's new


favorite. These two were not deemed unworthy or disobedient. They were


good slaves, but obviously lacked that extra something required of


Master's favorite, so they were turned into house slaves. One day they


were taken away only to return a few weeks later as faceless, voiceless


rubber dolls, number 63 and 64.




This meant that they were down to eight slaves in the race, a number


that was soon reduced further.




Testing the slaves' stamina was a continuous process and one event


designed to test the slave boys was a gangbanging at Master's club.


Jamie was taken there along with another slave and strapped to a wooden


horse in the central punishment area. He lay across the length of the


horse, his hands and feet tied to the horse leaving free access to both


his ass and his mouth. A whip was placed on his back so that unhappy


"clients" could vent their anger immediately. Then the fucking began.


Jamie lost count after sixty blowjobs and since there were no windows


and no clocks in the dungeon, Jamie had no way of knowing for how long


he was fucked in both holes, but it felt like days. It felt like his ass


would never be able to close again and it felt like his jaw had been


dislocated and his tongue was numb.




When it finally stopped, Jamie's eyelids were glued together with dried


cum and a steady stream of primarily cum was leaking out of his ass. He


had trouble feeling his hands and feet and his body was coved with welts


and bruises, since everyone had seemed dissatisfied with something in


his performance - or at least they had pretended to be so that they


could whip him. Jamie's bonds were removed and he was dumped on the


floor, landing as limp as a doll. Then a stream of piss landed on his


face, washing away most of the cum. Just before he lost consciousness


from the exertion, Jamie's eyes fell on the other slave who had been


gangbanged. He was still tied to the horse and he was completely limp.


It was clear to Jamie that he had been fucked to death.




Jamie soon became a favorite among Master's men for his smooth and


willing mouth, but Master showed no signs of having picked a favorite


among the seven remaining slaves. This made Jamie desperate with


submissive lust. He longed to please Master; to be his favorite and he


tried oh so hard to please him with every little move he made. Master


showed no signs of noticing.




Not too long after Jamie's gang banging two more of the new slaves were


turned into house slaves, numbers 65 and 66. At the same time house


slaves number 57 and 63 were "retired". Jamie was strung up and a St.


Andrews cross, his genitals, desperate from months of forced abstinence,


a pincushion and his body a crisscross pattern of red welts, when number


57 was "retired". The slave followed Master docilely into the dungeon


and stood completely still as Master calmly announced that it had


reached the end of the line; that it was no longer useful. Number 57's


body tensed up and his feet did a tiny dance of desperation as he pissed


on the floor with fear. Although it was ungagged no sound escaped its


mouth, its vocal cords long since gone. At Master's nod it dropped to


its knees and licked up its own piss, before standing up to face Master


again.




While number 57 was on the floor Master had gotten a length of rope and


looped it around one of the beams near the ceiling. On one end was a


noose hanging freely while Master held the other end. Jamie could see


number 57 start when it saw the noose, but it was too well trained and


too harshly controlled to even try to escape. Master the looped the


noose around its neck and tightened it. He then pulled on the rope until


number 57 hung almost a foot off the ground, its feet twitching


uselessly. After watching this for a little while Master took out his


cock, making Jamie sigh with longing, and shoved it up number 57's ass,


lowering it onto his cock and reducing the pressure on its throat. He


took his property from behind, fucking number 57 vigorously while


playing with its breath. Number 57 twitched and danced like the puppet


it was; fucked and strangled for the enjoyment of Master. Strangling


number 57 was a prolonged affair, by finally, after what seemed to Jamie


like hours, the rubber doll hung limply from the rope around its neck, a


thin stream of Master's cum dribbling down the inside of its thigh.




Jamie was completely terrified, so terrified that he had briefly


forgotten about the torture he was being subjected to. As Master turned


his attention to him, hooking up the needles in Jamie's balls to an


electric generator, Jamie soon focused on his own situation. Number 57


now hung as an almost forgotten reminder of Jamie's own likely fate as


Jamie himself screamed and begged as electricity coursed through his


balls.




All five remaining slaves were now in a state of intense fear, fear even


deeper than when Jamie had realized for the first time what was his


likely fate. They all knew that the fate would be decided soon and that


it was supremely unlikely that either of them would replace Manuel at


Master's side. The armless favorite still followed master everywhere he


went, his head bowed in silent devotion, his mouth always ready and his


imprisoned cock constantly dripping frustrated pre-cum.




Jamie was there again as Master reduced the number of new slaves


further. Master was fucking a gorgeous black slave boy's head while


Jamie stood close by, holding Master's drink while he received the


blowjob. As he came he grabbed the slaves head tightly and showed his


cock as far down his throat as possible and held it there. At first the


slave didn't struggle, conditioned as he was to deepthroating people for


protracted periods of time, but soon he began to run out of air.


Involuntarily his limbs began to twitch and his eyes acquired a huge,


panicked look as he realized what was happening. Soon his struggles were


desperate, his eyes almost ready to pop out of his head and his face was


turning blue. As he lost bladder control and died, his feet drummed


unevenly against the floor and his bloodshot eyes stood out of a dark


blue face. Master spent a few minutes fucking the face of his dead slave


boy before shooting his load and dumping the useless and broken toy


unceremoniously on the floor. Then he looked towards Jamie, his eyes


more predatory than ever, sending a shiver of acute terror down Jamie's


spine. But Jamie was by now every bit as well-conditioned as he had


could be. As the other slave had died Jamie had remained stock still,


looking straight ahead making sure not spill any of Master's drink. As


Master now scrutinized him, looking for flaws in his conditioning, an


excuse to strangle Jamie too. Finding none, he instead grabbed his drink


and left the room, the ever devoted Manuel in tow. Jamie had narrowly


dodged the bullet. Master's bloodlust, however, had not been sated and a


couple of hours later Jamie saw Master's men remove the rubber-clad


corpse of number 65. It had been impaled, a huge steel rod forced into


its ass and out of its mouth. Number 65 was being carried away still


impaled on the pole, its lips closed around the pole as if it was


providing service.




Soon the number of slaves was down to two, Jamie and a sweet looking boy


of Asian decent. The two others had been turned into house slaves number


67 and 68. Jamie was clearly in the running to become Master's new


favorite, but he still had trouble believing that he could replace


Manuel.




Master was clearly not convinced either and so he subjected the two


remaining contenders to a barrage of new tests, many of them now


involving oral or anal service under extreme conditions, either while


they themselves were being tortured or while Master tortured others.


Jamie spent several weeks as a doggy slave sucking and fucking for all


he was worth, including two nights as a suck-puppy at Master's club.




When the decision finally came it was almost a letdown. Master simply


plunged needles into Jamie's and the other slave's shoulders and


announced that he had made a decision, but he didn't inform them of what


that decision was.




Jamie found out when he woke up in the very exclusive clinic Master used


for modifications on his slave's bodies. He woke up naked, strapped to


the bed, lying under a black rubber sheet. Unable to move anything but


his head, it took some time for him to decide what kind of slave he had


been turned into. Crying with joy he felt how pre-cum dribbled from his


imprisoned cock, smearing the inside of his thigh. He hadn't been


castrated! His arms were probably gone, but this meant that he was


Master's new favorite!




A nurse in a white rubber uniform with truly enormous tits came into the


room to check on him and when she pulled back the rubber cover Jamie saw


his own smooth and armless body, perfectly healed. Dimply he was aware


that he had probably been out for months while his body healed, but it


didn't matter much. He had been selected as Master's new favorite!




As if to confirm this Master entered the room as the nurse respectfully


retreated. In tow, as usual, was Manuel now looking decidedly miserable.


Master sat down on the bed and absentmindedly signaled to Manuel to


begin blowing him. As he talked to Jamie Manuel opened Master's trousers


and expertly began blowing him. "Well, Jamie," Master began, "I've


decided to make you my new favorite." A hopeless whimper escaped


Manuel's throat, something Master promptly reacted to by shoving his


cock as far down Manuel's throat as possible and keeping it there until


Manuel was nearly unconscious. Then he went on: "Being my favorite will


be much harder than anything you've endured during your training and


selection. You will not only constantly be held to a higher standard


than the rest of the slaves, and as such punished harder as well, but


being my favorite means not only being my favorite hole to fuck, but


also being my favorite torture doll." Now fear mingled with pride in


Jamie's increasingly devoted mind as Master finished: "Don't fail me.


You've seen what happens to slaves who fail me. I promise that if you


fail me in your capacity as favorite, it will seem like nothing compared


to what I'll do to you."




Jamie thanked Master profusely and promised to live up to the honor of


being favorite slave. To this Master nodded with a quiet smile and


slapped Jamie's face leisurely with one hand, while using the other to


fixate Manuel's head while he shot his load.




Jamie trailed his beloved Master closely, making sure always to be ready


for whatever he wanted, whether it was sucking, fucking, punishment or


shit eating. Jamie complied with a smile, relishing his role as Master's


favorite. Manuel was no more and now Jamie also knew how his own life


would end once Master found a better slave boy or simply tired of him.




Jamie's head and entire body was hairless, his mouth toothless (of


course) and naturally his ever excited member was imprisoned in a cage,


constantly secreting pre-cum in the futile hope of being allowed to cum.


His waist was compressed to an impossible degree and he had constant


breathing difficulties, something Master liked, being a devotee of


strangulation. His feet were compressed impossibly by his new ballet


boot with nine inch heels. Jamie's toenails had all been removed, but


still the boots were so small that when they had been put on for the


first time, almost all of the bones in Jamie's feet had broken. After


walking around on crushed feet for a month his feet had taken the shape


of the boot, but the boots were still very, very painful to wear. But


Jamie knew that it would get worse as Master had shown him three new


pairs of boots, getting progressively smaller. In time he would wear


each of them and each new pair would crush his feet all over.




Like his predecessor Jamie wore no collar. Instead a deep blue bruise


encircled his neck, the result of prolonged breathplay with a piece of


coarse rope. It had been a year since he had replaced Manuel and in that


time-span his body, like Manuel's before him, had been covered with


scars and semi-permanent bruises. Being Master's favorite meant bearing


the brunt not only of the fucking, but of the torture as well.




As Master came to a halt so did Jamie, making sure to stand at a


respectful distance behind his owner. As a matter of course he kept his


eyes down, but he couldn't help noticing that Master was addressing a


new batch of slaves, all tied up just like Jamie had been when he first


came here. Although Jamie had lost his sense of time a long time ago, he


guessed that it had been more than a year since he had knelt before


Master like these new slaves. That also meant that it had probably been


more than two years since he had last been allowed to cum. He


successfully suppressed a shiver at the thought. Jamie knew what his


only chance of cuming was and it was not an attractive option.




Epilogue


Jamie had successfully held on to his position as Master's


favorite for four years, but finally his time had come. Master had


picked a new favorite, a beautiful black boy who now stood before Jamie,


poised to take over his position.




Jamie was straddling a narrow, triangular steel beam. A huge dildo stood


up straight from it and Jamie was impaled on this. His feet didn't touch


the ground, but were tied to rings in the floor, putting an unbearable


pressure on Jamie's crotch area. His upper body was strapped to a steel


pole so the only bit of movement Jamie had left was the ability to shake


his head.




He was still corseted and his feet were still in their impossibly small


boots, but for the first time in years his cock was no longer


imprisoned. It stood straight out, twitching desperately.




On his knees right in front of Jamie was the new favorite slave. He had


been teasing Jamie's now liberated cock for more than twenty four hours


straight without letting Jamie cum. Meanwhile Master had appeared at


regular intervals to play with Jamie's breath, reducing him to a


frustrated, panicky wreck.




Now finally Jamie had come to the end of the line. Master stood beside


him as Jamie moved inexorably towards a glorious orgasm and as he saw it


coming in Jamie's eyes, his hands closed one last time around Jamie's


throat. Jamie jerked and spasmed as much as his bonds would allow him as


he struggled futilely, his movements becoming ever more erratic and his


bloodshot eyes moving further and further out of his face, which was


turning blue. The sounds of the world became faint and his vision


narrowed and the last thing he felt was the most glorious orgasm he had


ever had. His limbs twitched a little and Master's old favorite had been


retired.




THE END




If you liked the story drop me a line at story_2nn@yahoo.com






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