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"No, well, that's okay, we'll make do somehow," he said as he went to 103's and 113's cell doors and told them to get out to the center. He had them both, the slender Hispanic and the slender Asian stand near 105's head. "We may not have marbles, but we have a goodly supply of balls that will do the trick just fine," he said with a sarcastic tone to his voice.
"113, get that chink ball sac of yours over that faggot rag heads mouth. And you, 105 take one of those miserably little chink balls into your mouth. Both did as ordered, then waited for Holt's next pleasure. "Now before you start your little recital again tell me your number 105."
"AWN-AUW-AIH," 105 tried vainly to say.
"What the shit is that suppose to mean, you disgusting little pussy," Holt snarled at him. Problem is you still need to work on it........we need more "marbles."
"103, get your balls over there," and 103 stepped over to 105's head. Only now 103 and 113 had to stand embracing each other to keep from losing balance, as 103 got his ball sac to 105's mouth. Since 105 only had one of 113's balls in his mouth, he knew he could hold another one, but he'd never tried doing this from two ball sacs at the same time. His face was mashed into the lower groins of 103 and 113. Finally, he grunted that he had one of 103's balls in his mouth as well.
"Finally, I'm beginning to think all you faggots love playing with each other so you do everything slowly so as to get more pleasure out of it. We've got a lot to do, so let's get started. Okay 105, no wait, 105 you're not enticing me anymore with that finger you keep sticking in and out of your cunt. I think it's just too little to be of interest. Tell you what, since I know what a big pussy boy cunt you are, and how much you want me to fuck you, why don't you start using three fingers? Okay? Go ahead now, three fingers," Holt said in a mockingly friendly voice.
105 wasn't sure he would make it through Holt's fun and games, but he kept remembering the shotgun shell. He groaned as he began to stretch his asshole with three fingers. He slowly began to move them in and out of his cunt.
"Oh! That's a lot better, yes, I like that much more. Now, try your recitation again pussy."
Only now the sounds were simply indistinguishable guttural noises. Holt listened for a minute, then went to the next step.
"No, you're still speaking like you've never heard good American English, which isn't surprising because you certainly never heard it in your home growing up," Holt laughingly said. 105 didn't realize it, but his face began to glow red with anger, humiliation and a deep desire for vengeance.
"Tell you what I'm gonna do to help you out. Since we still have more balls, I think if we can get them all in your mouth, this just might work."
103 and 113 froze in place, holding each other. They couldn't imagine how they would each get another ball into 105's mouth, but then Holt made it so they didn't have to worry about it. He walked up to the unusual configuration of the three slaves and told them to all be still. He then reached down and grabbed the part of 103's ball sac that wasn't in 105's mouth. "All we have to do is press this little baby in here............," he said, and with that he began pressing 103's ball into 105's mouth. 103 began to scream from the pain of having his ball pressed into the tight confines of 105's mouth. All he could do was to hold on to 113 with all of his strength as the pain seared through his gut. Finally, his entire ball sac was in 105's mouth.
"See now, that wasn't so bad, and I'm sure we still have room for this little pea ball that chink cunt here seems so proud of. Let's see if we can't just...............," and Holt grabbed 113's remaining ball and began pushing it past 105's lips and teeth. 105 was beginning to choke while he stretched his mouth open as wide as he could, but knew he had to hold position or it would be even worse for 103 and 113, who were both now screaming in pain as their balls were squeezed into this small space. There was a chorus of screaming and groaning as all three slaves suffered under the siege of this bastard, but Holt was just grinning and listening to the music.
"Okay! Holt shouted, shut the fuck up, all of you. 105, I don't see your finger's moving in and out of your pussy, get busy cunt and do what you know you need to do, and you can begin your recital again. You two keep the fuck quiet so I can hear him," Holt yelled at 103 and 113, who were now holding each other and crying softly on each other's shoulders.
If the sounds were indistinguishable before, they now didn't even sound human as 105 began his humiliating speech again, while sticking his fingers in and out of his pussy. He realized two things suddenly, one he already knew, the other surprised him. First, he would kill this man some day, no matter what it took, and second, he had just thought of his own asshole as a pussy............his sense of shame overwhelmed him. As hard as he had worked to keep them out of his mind, he knew he couldn't keep them out of his body, but his mind was his. Yet now, he realized, this bastard had gotten in. If he could, so could the others...........Allah help him, he had to get out soon, or he'd never be himself again.
By now, Holt was actually burning with some desire to fuck this guy, so he got down his knee and started to pull 105's ass up a little. This movement changed the dynamics of the slave configuration and Holt snarled to 105, "If even one of those balls comes out of your mouth, all three of you will go into our special room and you'll have to be carried out........understand faggots."
All three slaves quickly grabbed each other to stay in position. 105 had to grab onto the forearms of the other two in order to support his weight as Holt lifted his butt off the floor. The shift also caused some additional pull on both ball sacs, in turn causing a good deal of additional pain for 113 and 103. Of course, Holt was completely unconcerned with all of this as he spat into his hand and lubed his shaft in preparation to give this cunt a good fuck. He didn't worry about being gentle, hell, these were slaves, they preferred it rough.
With that, Holt rammed himself into 105's nice tight hole.........God, it felt good! He was holding 105 up off the ground, but he was strong enough to do that, and it afforded him the opportunity to swing 105 a little which felt good on his cock, and caused some delicious sounds to come out of 103 and 113. He wouldn't give you ten cents for the lot of them. That's one of the things wrong with this country, these damned immigrants flooding into this country and expecting to all be Americans. Whoever meant for it to work like that. America should be for Americans, not all these spics, chinks and rag heads. It actually felt patriotic in some strange way to be doing this.........teaching this scum that if they want to live here, they need to serve real Americans. It all underscored Holt's basic belief about this slave farm. That was, that deep down, these slaves craved this, there was something wrong with them, or they would never have been caught. A real man would never allow this kind of thing to happen to him. With that certainty and self assurance, Holt felt himself getting very close. He jerked 105 again rather hard, which in turned sent 103 and 113 into new spasms of pain, and their screams just made him feel even stronger and YES.........YES..........YES, as he shot cord after cord of his true American cum into this rag heads pussy........YES........YES........."Take it all and appreciate that I'd waste my time teaching you your place in life, you little cunt," he shouted as he continued to shoot his juices.
Finally, exhausted, he pulled his cock out of 105 and dropped his ass on the floor. He'd done his part. Helping to get these perverts off the street, and making a little profit to boot. God, this was a great country. He'd use each of them before the day was out, but he still had special plans for 105. Trainer had told him to make 105 his personal project for the next few days, and he was only too happy to comply. This rag head had been coasting around here for months. It was time to break him and get him sold, and Holt would do his part in making that happen.........gladly.
Chapter Four
On the evening of the tenth day after 109 had been taken from the cell block, he was back as the slaves were returning, only he was somehow different. He was standing in the middle area between the cells, but he was deathly still, posed in fact, like a statue. The ot
her slaves began reacting immediately with looks at one another and murmurs between each other, but it wasn't until much later, after the lights were out and the Bosses had retired that any whispered conversations could take place, and by then they had much to talk about. Trainer knew how it would go, that's one of the reasons he'd kept 109 away from the other slaves. He wanted them wondering what had happened, and he wanted the additional time to hammer in some more crucial lessons for 109.
He'd been kept in a smaller area that was separated from where the other slaves would be. That way, Trainer was assured there would be no contact between 109 and the other slaves. However, there had been plenty of contact with the Bosses who had each been given specific instructions by Trainer on how 109 was to be treated. The objectification of 109 was to be reinforced by everyone. For ten days 109 had been referred to as "It" by everyone around It, and more, It had been used as an object by all of them. In the past ten days It had been a foot stool, It had been a coffee table, It had been a portable stool, It had been a clothes rack, It had been a toilet, and, most often, It had been a cum dump. What It had not been at any time during the last ten days, was a person, and It had never referred to Itself nor heard anyone else refer to It as anything other than It. The truly significant difference however, and this was not yet known, even by Trainer, for the last few days, It had not even thought of Itself in any way other than It. It was now a true sex object, and well on Its way to becoming a sex toy.
Another modification that was observable were 109's nipples. After It had asked Trainer to help make Its nipples more sensitive to a man's use (as Trainer had mentioned in that post hypnotic suggestion), Trainer had begun having 109's nipples rubbed with a very fine Emory board, the kind women use on their nails. Its nipples were still somewhat raw and inflamed, but one only had to breathe on them to get a reaction from 109. One of the other things that was happening, that 109 wasn't completely aware of yet, was that Trainer had ordered that whenever 109's nipples were touched or even breathed on, Its cock was to be fondled and played with, and vice versa, if Its cock was being touched or used in any way, Its nipples had to be stimulated as well. Trainer was creating a psychological connection between 109's nipples and Its cock. Within a month whenever anyone touched Its nipples, Its cock would begin leaking precum.
109 didn't realize that would be part of Its future. What It was feeling however, was much more sexual than It had since it had come to the farm. To be sure, It had had plenty of sex, but most of that was forced acts that had been done to It or that It had been forced to do to others. In some ways it was no more sex than rape was. But lately, that had been changing. One of the reasons was the little white pill It was given every day, and It suspected that, but that wasn't all of it. It was beginning to become aroused even when It was being used as a piece of furniture. It saw Itself being used in Its own mind, and It was becoming excited by that. It didn't understand, and though It had more time for reflection as various objects, It found Itself more often thinking about what might be done to It next.
The night 109 had spent with the Doctor proved to be, among other things, a trip down memory lane, only they weren't memories that 109 found that pleasant.
"Does It remember only a couple of months ago when we first met." the Doctor had asked with an attempt at pleasantness in his voice. "As I remember, It was working with a contractor laying floors when Mr. Watts noticed It, and look at It now, It's still working with floors," he chuckled, as he sipped his cocktail while resting his feet on 109's back. 109 was on all fours, on the floor. It had been there for almost an hour as the Doctor had enjoyed his drink and read a book. It had held the position It had been put in, not moving a muscle, and Its muscles were screaming now. It was learning that furniture was one of the hardest things to be, because it required It to remain so still for extended periods. It wouldn't be so bad except the Boss that had placed It had put Its head way up, straining Its neck way back. Holding that position was proving difficult, and It was beginning to sweat from the exertion. None of this had been missed by the Doctor, and none of it had been commented on, in fact, in just over an hour, that was the first time the Doctor had even spoken. After all, how often do we actually talk to our furniture?
It remembered that day. It had started out like most days. It had met Its boss on the job site where It had been helping to install a new floor in a house. Its boss was gone to bid on another job, but trusted It to work at the house without his supervision. It was feeling great, this job would be finished in another day, then It was going to visit a friend in another city for the weekend. Things were finally coming together for It and Its friend had a good lead on a better job in that city. While It was working a guy knocked on the door and asked if he could get some information on installing new wood floors in his boss's house. It was in the process of explaining that the owner of the business was away, but It had a card with information that It could give the man. The guy said that would be fine, but could It just take a minute to answer a question his boss had about the different kinds of floors. He was out in his car, they were on their way to lunch, if he could just pop his head in and talk to him for a second.
Of course, like It had found out from some of the other slaves, within about an hour It was naked, being raped on the floor of that car and screaming for help. No help ever came, and it was only the first time of many that It was raped over the next few days. As the Doctor spoke of the memories fondly, It remembered how frightened and confused It had been. It was less confused and frightened now as It remembered Its last day as a real man. The training had done its job well, even with this recalcitrant slave. The fact that even now, as the Doctor reminisced about that day, It knew that there was no chance of a change in Its circumstances. It held Its position because It was no longer a real man, It wasn't even just a slave, to be exact, right now, It was a foot stool. A foot stool with some memories, but a foot stool none the less.
The Doctor could see some of the emotions going through 109, and he was pleased that It was holding Its position and continuing to serve Its Master. Now it was time to take all this to another level, but before he did, he decided to just have a little fun. After all, what's the point of having a beautiful man as your slave, if you don't just have some fun every now and then making the slaves life a living Hell.
As 109 held Its position the Doctor sat up, lifting his feet off Its back, but reaching into his drink that he had just been finishing. He took one of the ice cubes out of the glass and reaching around to 109's beautifully curved ass cheek ran the ice around it a bit, then let the ice find that tight hole, played with it a moment there, then pushed it inside. He repeated this action until all the ice cubes in the glass were now in 109's ass, yet 109 continued to hold Its position, though It was beginning to wonder how much longer It could hold it. Then, 109 almost lost Its position because the Doctor did something so unexpected. He reached around again, only went between Its legs and firmly grabbed Its balls.
"Does It remember the first time I did this," he posited, watching for any reaction from 109. Does It remember how I held Its balls and squeezed them like this," as he began to apply considerable pressure to 109's balls. It started working on Its breathing, trying to hold Its position as this man's foot stool, but the pressure was incredible. Without realizing it, 109 began to moan a little as the Doctor continued to apply more pressure.
"I told It that It was now my slave, but I don't think It believed me. Does It believe me now?"
"Yes, Master," It responded, struggling as never before to continue to hold a difficult position while being abused physically and emotionally by Its Master.
"I told It that It was entering my world, and here It is..........in my world. I told It that It would learn to please a man and serve a man in any way that man chose, even if that man chose to do this," and with that, the Doctor suddenly thrust his foot up from the floor, kicking 109 forcefully in the gut.
"AHHHGGG," 109 cried, as It lost part of Its position for the
first time, allowing Its head to come down and his right arm to contract a bit. The pain was incredible because the Doctor never let go of Its balls, which continued to be firmly squeezed. 109 thought Its gut was about to fall out. But, as soon as that movement occurred, 109 quickly moved back into position. It was still a foot stool, a foot stool in agony, but only a foot stool. Before It had a chance to think or react, It was kicked again, and again. Twice more 109 lost a bit of Its position, and twice more It regained that position.
"I told It that I would do anything I wanted with It, and I've done exactly that. I've made It something of value, something desired by important men. Who desired It before I owned It........no one, but now It will be desired by many that see It. Now It has become a source of pleasure for important men. It will be a toy that is cherished by someone."
And 109 remembered Its time with Trainer. It understood that It was becoming a desirable toy. It was becoming anxious to know who Its owner would be, and what Its owner would expect. But until then, this was Its owner, Its Master, and It would do whatever necessary to bring pleasure to this man. If that pleasure caused It pain, that was a price It was willing to pay to be a desirable Toy.