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  That's when he realized there was only one pot for piss. He looked quizzically at 107 and whispered, "Where do we shit?"

  107 just lowered his head sadly and softly said, "You'll discover that's not really something you have to worry about."

  The cryptic response only added to 115's sense of boding about everything that was happening. He hadn't thought it was possible that he could feel worse, but he discovered that he had been wrong.

  The routine of cleaning the cells was arduous and demeaning. Each pot had to be carried, while the slave crawled on his knees holding the pots in his hands. Then the pots were emptied at a special drain near the utility sink. The slave had to use his bare hands to make sure everything was out of the pot, then to wash the pot in the sink. Once the pots were clean they were carried back to the cells and inspected by the Bosses. To make sure the pots were clean, the slave would stick his head inside the pot and lick the sides or bottoms. While this was being done, the other slaves were scrubbing the floors of the cells on their hands and knees, using soapy water. Then taking the buckets of soapy water back to the sink, emptying them, filling them with clean water, and carrying that water back to the cells to rinse the floor.

  Even if nothing else had been going on, it would have been difficult, numbing work on a person's knees, but of course, there was more going on. Holt began a game that each time a slave had some kind of mishap, the slave had to crawl to each of the Bosses, apologize, beg to kiss their cock and balls, then when allowed, suck each cock, lick each ball, and finally, press their tongues into each Boss's piss slit, and profess his undying love for the Boss's cock. And there were many mishaps, the Bosses made sure of it, so one of the slaves was always at each of the Boss's cocks, servicing them. That meant there were only two slaves actually cleaning at any given time, while two other slaves were sucking cocks and licking balls.

  When the slaves were about half way through with all the cells, Holt stopped then and remarked to Samuels, "I'm wondering if these cunts are really focused on this job. What do you think Samuels? It seems to be taking them forever to clean out these cells."

  "You're right," Samuels remarked casually, "but I think I have something that will help them focus on their work, because obviously their minds have been wandering." With that Samuels went to a cabinet at the other end of the room and came back with four serious butt plugs. "My thinking is if each of them has one of these babies up their cunt their minds won't be so inclined to wander. What do you think Holt?"

  "I think you're a fucking genius Samuels, but if you don't mind a suggestion, I think if we added these tit clamps it would really help to do the trick. What do you think."

  "I'm always favorably inclined to a friendly amendment to a proposal Holt, and I think that's a great one," Samuels said, laughing at the farce they were playing.

  While this little conversation had been going on, all four slaves were on their knees facing the two goons, knowing that they would do whatever they wanted with them. All they could do was resign themselves to the fact that there was going to be a lot of pain in this room during a good part of the day, and they were going to be on the receiving end of all of it.

  "115, get over here," Holt ordered, and 115 crawled to where he was on his knees in front of Holt. At least Holt had put some lubricant on the plug before he placed it on the floor between 115's spread knees. "Now I want you to look me in the eyes while you lower yourself onto that plug you little cunt, and while you're doing it I want you to tell me how pleased you are to be fucking yourself for me. Go ahead shithead, start pressing."

  115 looked straight into Holt's eyes, as Holt had actually squatted down so their eyes were level. Holt's eye's bore into 115's psyche, and 115 was completely humiliated to be doing this in front of this man. All the while, looking into those cruel eyes, with tears coming out of his own, 115 found himself saying, "I'm so glad you're letting me fuck myself this way Boss. I haven't had such a good fucking since this morning Boss, thank you for thinking of me and allowing me the pleasure of AGHHHHHHH............

  115's speech became a groan as Holt kicked his ball weight away, sending it rolling a short distance on the floor until it yanked at 115's balls again, and almost at the same time, attached the butterfly tit clamps to each nipple. "I'm sorry, cunt mouth, I didn't understand that last part," Holt laughed.

  "Thank you...... for allowing me....... the pleasure of....... fucking myself in front of you...... Boss," 115 gasped between clenched teeth and sobs of pain, and with that, 115 felt the wide part of the plug slip past his sphincter and it was in. He was filled again, and he hated it. His face burned with the shame of it, and as if it wasn't enough, Holt started playing with his cock. The touch startled 115 as he looked down and saw Holt's hand gently playing with his cock, he jerked his eyes back up and looked into a face of such cruelty, yet his touch was tender on his hardening dick. Why was he getting hard? Would this never end?

  "Confused are we boy, that's because you're a stupid cunt," Holt practically snarled at 115. "I can cause you pain or pleasure boy, and the choice is completely mine. You have absolutely no say in it. Are you beginning to understand your reality you piece of shit," Holt said to an even more confused 115.

  "You exist for the pleasure of another man dick breath, period. You don't have to think yet, you only have to obey. There will come a time for you to think about the other man's pleasure, but right now, just get use to giving yourself willingly to the man who has authority over you, and right now, piss mouth, that's me. Do you understand me slave?"

  "Yes Boss," 115 gasped out of a confused state of pain and pleasure, "I understand Boss. Please, use me for your pleasure," he added, hoping it would cause Holt to be lenient.

  "Oh, I plan on doing that later slave, don't worry about that, but for now, get your plugged ass back to work," he said as he literally pushed 115 off balance and watched him fall to the floor. 115 scrambled to get away from this cruel and sadistic man.

  And so it went for 115 and the other slaves as their day continued from one painful ordeal to another. Some of the slaves had become somewhat accustomed to the routine, knowing that when they were working or exercising they were at least not being tormented sexually. It didn't take long for each slave to understand that their future was one of sexual pleasure for the man that purchased them, and if that man was a sadist, as it seemed most of these men were, their futures would have a good deal of pain in them. Each slave that had finally given up the hope of escape, now found themselves hoping they might be sold to someone who just wanted to fuck them and have their cocks sucked.........maybe the master that bought them wouldn't hurt them too much. That was at least, the hope.

  * * *

  After what seemed like endless hours of torment, the slaves were making their way back into the cell block, each going into the cells where the doors were open and waiting. 104 had wished that he had been with 115 part of the day, so he could prepare him for what was coming that evening. There was no way that 115 could know, or even suspect, that his ordeal this day was not over. Yes, he'd been welcomed by all the slaves that morning with the ritualistic fucking, but that had been kind and even gentle compared to what was coming this evening. 104 wondered if any of the other slaves had gotten the word to 115, he hoped so, but maybe it would be better for 115 not to know.

  As 115 was entering his cell he marveled that he was still alive. To be sure, he felt numb, but he was still here, he had made it this far. The other slaves all seemed to be looking his way, and he wondered what he had done to draw their attention. Then Holt came into his cell and without much ado, simply used the wrist restraints he had brought with him to restrain 115's wrists to his thighs. He also put a looped rope over his head and around his neck, very much like a leash.

  "Well, I won the draw slave, and I'll tell you I'm pleased about it. I'm looking forward to our night together, just think about it, together all night, giving you ample opportunity to please me in my bed," Holt laughed.

 
"But, but," a stunned 115 stammered, until Holt slapped him across his face.

  "Shut the fuck up, you piece of shit, no one gave you permission to speak. All I'll need your mouth for this evening is to suck my dick, caress my balls, lick my ass, and eat my cum," Holt growled sternly with some anticipation in his voice.

  115 was completely confused. He'd assumed that he would at least be given an opportunity to rest. What the hell was going on he wondered, and then he noticed that two other Bosses had come into the room with similar restraints and ropes. One, Samuels, went into 107's cell, restrained his wrists to his thighs and started leading a very subdued 107 away. At the same time the other Boss, Murphy, went into 105's cell (the beautiful Iranian slave), restrained him and started leading him out. 105's face burned with indignation as Murphy announced to the room, "any of you other guys want to join us you're welcome, we're going to play Nine Eleven this evening, only I think it's going to turn out a little differently this time," he said with an angry tone in his voice. 105 had been taken by Murphy before and knew he had had a brother in one of the Towers. 105 would suffer again tonight as he had on several previous nights, and the fact that he was a second generation American would be completely lost on Murphy.

  There was no way 115 could know any of that, or he too might be looking at 105 with some empathy, as several of the other slaves were now doing. No, 115 was caught up in his own world right now, and he didn't understand. He looked over at 104, whose eyes were sympathetic, but he couldn't speak for fear of reprisals. Holt noticed the glance, and the sympathy on the part of 104 and decided to use it to his advantage. He led 115 by his leash to stand in front of 104.

  "Well look at the touchy feely little faggot," Holt sneered, "just wishing you could do anything to help your new girl friend is that it cunt? Well I'm going to give you a chance to make him feel better. Tell him what's going to happen to him tonight, and every night for the next six nights........go ahead, tell him!"

  104 looked at 115 and said to him, as gently as he could, "each new slave is given to each of the Bosses for the first six nights the slave is here. Each Boss gets to use the slave for their pleasure. That way, you'll know each of the Bosses and how they like to have their dicks sucked, or their asses licked. Eventually, you'll be given a test, and you'll have to be able to identify the cum of each Boss. Boss Holt won you in the drawing, he gets to have you first."

  "Good job, you little faggot, now why don't you and the rest of these cunts settle in for the evening. Don't worry about us, we'll be fine," Holt laughed as he led a terrified 115 to his room.

  With that, the lights in the cell block were dimmed, but all of the slaves noticed. 109 wasn't there. They all looked at each other and began to indicate by their shrugs that none of them had seen 109 that day. In fact, the last time any of them saw 109, he was being led away to Trainer's quarters. Each of them knew the tight rope 109 was walking, each of them knew about the shotgun shell. Had Trainer used it? Where was 109?

  * * *

  In his ignorance, 115 was one of the few slaves not wondering and worrying about 109, he was terrified enough on his own account. A man whose sadistic pleasure had caused him pain for most of the day, was now leading him to his bedroom, where he would have him, helpless, the entire night. If hell could get any worse, 115 couldn't imagine how.

  As Holt pushed 115 into his room he yelled for him to get on his knees. 115 responded immediately and sank to his knees before this terrible figure. Because his hands were fastened to his legs he couldn't raise the chain on the ball weight, and Holt kicked it so it rolled a short way becoming taunt again. "We're going to have plenty of fun tonight cunt boy, don't worry, but there's no rush, we have all night," Holt said laughingly. He was looking forward to this. This slave was still new enough so that everything requested was difficult for him to do, particularly demeaning and humiliating, and Holt loved that.

  Holt began to undress, and was soon walking around the room naked, with his thick cock swaying as he moved in the room. 115 never took his eyes off this fearsome man, he knew he needed to be prepared to please him or feel his anger. His hope was that Holt would simply fuck him then go to bed, but he was to be sorely disappointed in that expectation.

  As Holt sat down to a table with a plate of food, 115 realized how hungry he was as well, but instead of offering him something to eat, Holt ordered him to crawl under the table and start sucking his cock. 115 quickly crawled on all fours to get under the table then pressed his face between Holt's thighs and took his cock in his mouth. It certainly wasn't the first time he had had Holt's dick in his mouth that day, but it still caused him to turn red with humiliation at the thought of what he was doing.

  Holt ordered him, "Move your head back for a minute," and when 115 responded, he watched in disbelief as Holt put a little dab of mashed potatoes on his erect cock. "Knock yourself out faggot, that's the only way you'll get anything to eat this evening."

  115 was stunned, but quickly recovered and moved his mouth back onto Holt's cock, working his tongue around the potatoes and swallowing them as he continued to suck and lick Holt's engorged dick. That was the way 115 ate what little food he was going to get for dinner. All of it was served up on this man's swollen cock, and all of it was swallowed with bits of Holt's pre-cum as seasoning. It was a miserable way to eat, but 115 was so hungry, he accepted his fate, and ate, pre-cum and all.

  After dinner, Holt had 115 crawl behind him to his bed. Holt stretched out and ordered 115 to get up on his bed with him. Then he said to 115, "I don't want to have to bother with a shower right now, it's been a long day for me, and I'm tired. Use your tongue and bathe me faggot. If your mouth gets dry there's a glass of water on the bed stand. Keep your tongue moist and pleasant on my body you lucky faggot, and while you're having the pleasure of cleaning me, hum some music while I relax. Your value will really go up when they find out I've invented a bath that also plays music," Holt said laughingly.

  115 wasn't sure where to begin. He'd never done anything like this before. Hell, he'd never imagined doing anything like this before, with anyone, but certainly not a man like Holt. But his stupor cost him as Holt slapped him across the face and told him to get busy licking, "and make damn sure you get everywhere you piece of shit, my feet, between my toes, under my arms, my crotch, my ass........everywhere, do you understand," Holt snarled.

  "Yes Boss, I understand," 115 replied as he quickly went to Holt's feet and began licking them, covering them with his saliva. Getting his tongue between each toe, tasting the residue of socks and sweat, taking his time, not wanting to displease this man. Then slowly moving up each leg, covering his body with his tongue, tasting the sweat, the musk of his manliness. Coming to Holt's crotch and pushing his face and tongue deep into that crotch, getting his own face wet with his saliva as he licked everywhere. Then pausing, ever so briefly, as Holt turned, presenting his ass to him. Quickly recovering, 115 swirled his tongue around the mounds of each ass cheek, then began to press his face between the fleshy globes, licking as he went, until he was at the musky opening of Holt's ass.

  "Didn't have a chance to clean up before our time together boy, hope you don't mind," Holt said satirically, "but I'd really appreciate it if you'd do an extra careful job on my ass."

  "Yes Boss, I will," and with that 115 began to soak Holt's ass with his tongue. The taste, the smell, caused 115 to start to gag, and just as soon as that reflex kicked in, Holt turned and slapped 115 viciously across the face.

  "You puke in my bed slut and you'll wish that whore that gave birth to you had had an abortion, do you understand me!"

  115 got hold of himself quickly and realized that he would have to force himself to do whatever this man demanded. If he wanted his ass licked, then he would lick it. "Yes Boss, I understand," he said.

  "Good, then I have a little treat for you slave," and he turned back around, "spread my ass cheeks open with your hands slave. 115 responded immediately, and was stunned as Holt reached back with his ri
ght hand and pushed a little chocolate "KISS" part way into his ass hole. "Lick it until there's no more chocolate bitch," Holt said as he relaxed his body waiting for the pleasure that was coming his way, and knowing, without even looking, how red with humiliation, 115's face was right now.

  115 lowered his face down in between Holt's ass cheeks and began to lick the KISS, tasting the mix of chocolate and asshole. He was careful not to choke again. If he felt a spasm coming he would simply keep licking and force himself to hold everything in. It was humiliating, it was horrible. It seemed to take forever before he was sure there was no more chocolate left and felt safe to move on to other parts of Holt's body. Most of the rest was easy by comparison, although his arm pits were especially rank and sweaty, but by then 115 could see an end in sight, so he kept going.......licking......everything.