Ste 115 1 Read online

  109 was breathing hard and pushing firmly into 115's ass. Each stroke went the full length of his10" shaft. He couldn't believe he was doing this again, but he knew he had to or he was a dead man. No more screw-ups. That was what Trainer had said. He still had four days on his probation. If he crossed Trainer again during that time, Trainer had said he would take that shell, put it in a shotgun, put the shotgun in 109's mouth and pull the trigger. He was tired of his fuck-ups, and it was time for him to submit. So 109 was submitting, he was fucking this poor white boy as hard as he could, and now he was CUMMIING!! He always had big loads, and this was no exception. He pushed all the way in to get that last shot. Trainer looked on approvingly.

  As 109 pulled out and stepped back to his cell, 113 came around the post. He was large for an Asian, with well defined chest and abs. He also had a ball weight hanging from his nuts. His dick wasn't as large as the others, but he was a beautiful man. He mounted 115, and for the first time 115 didn't moan as much. The guy's dick just fit his ass perfectly. Sure it stretched it a little, but not like the others. For the first time 115 had hope eventually this could be done without a lot of pain. Again, he concentrated on relaxing as the Asian increased his rhythm, and began to breathe faster. The metal weights clanged against each other, but the loudest noise was the goons yelling, "Come on Chinc, we're gonna have to strap a white man's dildo on you so you can pretend to be a real man, if you don't start making him yell a little.

  115 then made an important discovery. He realized that it was the pain that these goons enjoyed inflicting as much as anything else. The pain emphasized their superiority, their power over the slaves, their domination of the slaves. The pain was the icing on the cake, and it was damn important icing to these animals. 113 was fucking him as hard as he could but it didn't hurt as much as the others, and that's what was bothering the goons. 115 started moaning again, more loudly. "Please, no more," he cried.

  "Finally, it sounds like you're doing it right, slant eyes," the goons jeered.

  As 113 came in 115's ass and rested slightly on his back, he whispered, "Thank you!"

  Waiting by the post for his turn at the ass was 105, a dramatically handsome man who looked middle eastern, Iranian or Egyptian, a slighter build than many of the others, but still well proportioned. Again, he had a weight on his nuts, so the goons were once again cheering for a "concert" from the bell choir. One of them even yelled, "You know, if we lined these fags up we could have those balls bounce off each other like those desk toys you see."

  "Good thinking," laughed Trainer, "only why limit it to those four? We have plenty of ball weights, we could line'em all up in a fuck train then see if the balls work the same way as the toy. Either way, it would be a great sight," he continued to laugh, and made a mental note to do just that for the Doc's enjoyment some evening.

  To the sound of all the laughter and with 113's assistance, 105 rammed his dick into the now wet ass. Infidels, he thought, debasing themselves was one thing, but making him debase himself for their pleasure still infuriated him. He still hadn't become accustomed to his peculiar circumstances, and knew the consequences could be grim if he couldn't adjust to this new reality soon. Once again, he wished for any kind of weapon that he might reek vengeance upon all of them. But all he could do was fuck this poor man for their pleasure. Well he would cum as quickly as possible and be done with this degradation, though he knew other, even greater degradations awaited him in the days to come.

  115 wasn't pretending anymore, this guy was fucking him as hard as he'd been fucked so far. His face was wet with tears as he begged to be released from the post, and even though his ass had lost some of its feeling, there was enough left to feel terrible. He felt the pressure of having those huge cocks in him, but the sharp pain of feeling his ass tearing apart wasn't there anymore. The sound of the metal balls was humiliating as both their nut sacs were stretched and pulled by the motion of the fucking. He continued to cry and began pleading again, "enough, please, it's enough, no more, please, I'll do anything you say."

  "What, before you've properly met all your new family, I wouldn't hear of it," chuckled Trainer, "besides, 103 here has been waiting patiently for his turn and look at that nice uncut dick that would fit so nicely into your ass. Indeed, he had a beautiful cock and low hanging balls that went along with the rest of him. He was a little taller than most Latinos, with striking dark eyes. Maybe 115 noticed the eyes so well because 103 was looking at him so intently. He didn't want to do this, but he didn't have any more say in that than he'd had in anything else for months. Actually, he was anxious to find out from 115 what the date was when he was captured, then he'd know how long he'd been here.

  He was thinking of that as he mounted 115. He went fairly slowly, but he began to pump that ass hard enough to arouse him to cum quickly. If he could, he'd change places with 115 in a minute, he loved being fucked, always had, but the rest of this shit was for the dogs. He'd been a gentle man all his life, but he would gladly kill now if he had the opportunity, starting with Trainer and these other goons. As his anger for what had been done to him began to burn within him, he began to fuck with a vengeance. At least this hole was moist and tight. He could feel it loosening a bit as he withdrew then tightening again as he pushed himself back in. In time, and with the training he was sure to get here, 115 would learn to do just the opposite. Holding on to the dick as it withdraws, heightening the pleasure for the fucker, and opening up for the push that would bring the cock back in. Yeah, these goons would make sure he learned all the finer points, they'd have a great time teaching and perfecting them, the sons of bitches, and with that, 103 shot his load into that nice ass, ropes of cum shooting again and again. He stayed in for a minute because it felt so good, but then he had to pull out and go back to his cell.

  "Anybody for seconds," called out Trainer. "I thought you ladies would take a little longer than you did, so we still have some time here. Surely at least one of you can give your little brother another welcoming poke, so he'll know our excitement about him becoming part of our family is genuine...........anyone?" As Trainer slowly drew out that question he was looking straight at 109.

  109 knew what was being asked, he was being asked to prove himself, to step up to the plate and show his devotion to being a slave. He felt the weight of the shotgun shell around his neck. He'd fucked the poor guy hard the first time, hoping that would be enough, but Trainer was asking for more, and 109 knew he would have to respond.

  "Please Sir," said 109, "could I have one more shot at our new brother."

  115 just lowered his head and continued to beg to be let down. He remembered that 109 was the hardest at fucking him the first time. He didn't want to go through that again. He already had cum and piss dripping out his hole, down his legs onto the floor. How much more were these bastards going to do to him. He was prepared to do anything they told him, things he'd never imagined now sounded tolerable to him if they would just let him down and give him a chance to show his willingness to be obedient. "Please Sir, I'll be a good slave. I'll do whatever you tell me, please let me down."

  Trainer just ignored 115 as he kept a steady gaze on 109, his true subject for the moment.

  "Well there you are boys," Trainer laughed to the goons, "109 seems to be the only one who's into the true spirit of things in welcoming our new boy. Let's hear it for 109 boys."

  There was ribald approval as one of the goons opened 109's cell and told him to get his naked fag ass out there. As he stepped out of his cell, his beautiful body moving with the grace of a dancer, 109 kept his eyes cast down as he'd been trained to do, not looking into the eyes of a real man. The goon slapped him hard on his ass and told him he was proud to have participated in his training, and 109 remembered the night this guy had fucked him over and over again while he'd beat 109's ass, "Now get up there and really fuck this guy and make me really proud, cunt face!"

  "Please," 115 begged, "please let me go back to my cell, please Sir."

 
"Soon enough boy, but 109 here is going to show these other ladies how a slave can perform when told to. And, to show these ladies how hot 109 can be when he sets his mind to it, I've arranged a little demonstration in the hope that 109 would step up to the plate." With that, Trainer picked up an ice chest that had been sitting near the entry of the room. "I want these ladies to see how hot a real darkie can be when his life is on the line."

  Chuckling, Trainer opened the ice chest which contained just that, chunks of ice. "Boys, I want you to pack 115's ass with enough ice to cool him off a bit, then we're gonna let 109 have a shot at him, and 109, I want you to pull out while you're cumming so we can all see that hot cum shooting from that cold dick of yours." Trainer was still laughing, but his voice had an edge to it that would cut steel. 109 knew what he had to do, this was it, the test he'd been waiting for to prove himself, and hopefully get this shell from around his neck. He watched as two of the goons knelt down and started pushing pieces of ice up 115's ass. The cold was as much of a shock as being fucked had been as 115 began crying and begging them to stop. He could feel himself being filled with the ice, his body began to shiver involuntarily as his body temperature actually began to cool a little.

  Trainer walked over to 109 and grabbed him around the back of his neck. He began to pull 109 back and down so that 109's body began to arch backwards before Trainer. Trainer said very softly to 109, "Open boy," and 109, whose body had arched enough so that he was now looking up into Trainer's face, opened his mouth for Trainer, knowing what would come next. Then Trainer worked a big glob of spit in his mouth and began to let it drool into 109's open mouth. 109 concentrated on not gagging, but rather on letting this man drip his spit into his open and willing mouth. It seemed to last forever, but finally Trainer was finished and continued to pull 109 back until he fell flat on his back on the floor. As 109 lay there on his back, knowing not to get up until he had permission, Trainer took what was left in the ice chest and emptied it onto 109's cock and balls. he gasped as the cold caused his nut sac to shrivel up almost immediately. Again, he knew better than to move or throw any of the ice off until told to do so, so he remained on the floor with the ice covering his crotch.

  "Well," said Trainer finally, "you gonna lay around all day, or you gonna fuck this guy. Get to it boy, let's see some real fucking, and to show you that I'm really behind you in all of this, I'm going to let your brother, 113, help get you back up to your high standards," Trainer laughed, "he has 60 seconds to get you ready."

  The door to 113's cell opened and he practically flew to 109's cock. Several of the slaves understood what was happening right now, and that 109's life could easily be at stake. The beautiful Asian man was on his knees, cupping 109's balls in his hands, gorging his mouth with 109's dick, doing everything he could to stimulate 109's flaccid cock and warm his balls to get him hard enough to fuck that poor bastard. 113 was remembering his first night in this Hell, it was 109 who had been put in his cell, had held him, comforted him, encouraged him, and 113 remembered that on the worst night of his life, it was 109 that had given him some hope. He would do everything in his power to help 109 now, and he practically shouted with joy as he felt 109's dick begin to expand in his mouth. He quickly placed each of 109's balls in his mouth to warm them and was then back on his dick. Trainer began to get impatient, so 113 crawled on his knees while 109 began to walk toward 115, all along continuing to warm his dick with his mouth and saliva.

  As 109 came up behind 115, who was crying and begging, he put his arms around the post, pressing 115 against it, and 113 expertly guided 109's now hard shaft into the dripping hole. He pushed in and felt the ice around his dick almost immediately. It wasn't as cold, but it was still there, and he had to really concentrate to stay hard. Even though, he did slow down for just a moment, and that's when he felt the first CRACK of the belt against his ass. So this was how it was going to be. He knew it was going to be hard between the cold and the pain of the belt, which came down again, to fuck this guy, but he also knew that his life might very well depend on it.

  All the emotions building up in 109 were coming to a head. He had been enslaved against his will, he'd been beaten, humiliated, fucked and used in every way imaginable, and it had all come down to this. He felt his blood flowing like fire in his veins, and through his cock, this was it, he chose to live, even if it was as a slave, he wanted to live. His cock was raging now, with the cold, with the belt beating his ass, with it all, his cock was raging because he finally understood what he must do. He rammed into this poor white boy with a force he'd never felt. He didn't hear the cries of 115 because his own ears were ringing with the blood flowing through his body, and the desire to please Trainer. He was a slave, a toy for the pleasure of another man, and right now that man wanted him to fuck this boy, so he would fuck him, he would fuck his way into his new world. It was too bad for the boy right now, but he would live through this, and this was 109's road away from death and towards life. Nothing, not the cold, the belt, the cries of pain, the eyes of every slave in the compound on him right now, his own exhausted desire for freedom, nothing, would stop him now.

  This was the moment of transformation for him. Until now he had figured he could get out some way. For months he'd lived a life he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy, but he had survived with the hope of getting out of here. He now understood that wasn't going to happen, at least not in the way he had hoped. He was a slave, and there was literally no hope of that circumstance changing. But, he could be the most desirable slave anyone could ever dream of........wasn't that what Trainer had said to him on that first day?

  This was his new world, and the only hope he had of improving his circumstances was to become desirable to a decent client. No one wanted to buy a slave with a shot gun shell around his neck. All the clients knew what that meant........problems here, take at your own risk, will never really be a toy for your pleasure.........no wonder they had passed him by on previous occasions. If fucking this guy was the cost of getting this thing off his neck.......then this guy was gonna get fucked, and good. He continued to feel the warmth of his own cock as it began to swell between his legs even more, realizing he was getting close.

  109 began to chant, "Yes Sir, glad to fuck this slave for you Sir, yes Sir." Even the goons noticed a change coming over this recalcitrant slave. The beating of his ass only seemed to excite him more, which excited the goons more, so they beat it harder. Even with the increased pain on his ass, 109 was close. He rammed himself in again and again as hard and far as he could until he could feel the release starting to churn in his nuts. He pulled out just as the chism was coursing through his veined cock and shooting out his piss slit.......he shot cord after cord of hot juice all over that white boy's ass.

  "Yes Sir," he shouted, "just like you wanted, Sir," and he finished cumming and leaned against 115's back.

  Trainer was strangely quiet. He looked at 109, knowing what had just happened. It had taken awhile, but 109 had finally been broken, and the pieces had come back together as a slave. Trainer cracked the slimmest of smiles, not really noticeable to anyone, but he knew he had won, again. There would still be more training, but 109 was now a slave. He, Trainer, had won, and this kind of power was truly the opiate he sought because the high was like no other. He had made this man, a slave, just as he would to the rest of these pieces of shit in these cells, and just as he would to 115 who was weeping quietly hanging from the post, only 115 didn't know it yet, and Trainer found that delicious as well. He would be the one to reveal that reality to him.

  Trainer called out to 109, "get over here slave," and 109 responded immediately, standing in front of Trainer with his hands behind his back, his legs spread and his head bowed slightly, just as he had been taught.

  "On your knees slave," was all Trainer said and without changing any aspect of his position, 109 fell to his knees. Trainer reached down to his pants and pulled his massive cock out and said coldly, "present that shitty face of yours boy," and 109 rai
sed his face to Trainer's cock and opened his mouth. Trainer began to piss all over 109's face and into his mouth. He seemed to piss forever, but 109 held his place, never trying to avoid a single drop, swallowing any that came into his mouth without closing his mouth. He thought he would gag at first because he hated this more than anything, but 109 continued to allow this man to use him as a human toilet. He was determined to keep Trainer happy with him, no matter what it took.

  "Well," Trainer said, "it's not surprising that you could take my piss because everyone here knows my piss is like Champaign, but that's not necessarily true of the rest of the men here. Gentlemen, I think all of you could use a little relief right about now before we get on with our day, and seein as how 109 is already in position, I hope each of you will avail yourself of this 'golden' opportunity." Trainer chuckled as he put himself back in his cod piece, but his eyes weren't laughing as they locked on 109's. 109 knew his test wasn't over, but he also knew now that he would do whatever he had to in order to be chosen by a Master and get out of this place.