The Imperial Ranch Resort
Part 1 of 5
I was 25 years old, fit, lean, and tanned. I had never really held a job, despite a good college education, and willingness. I don’t know why, I mean, I have girls who want to date me, and they’re OK, but I still feel something is missing. I keep hearing life needs purpose, and at my age, you’d think I would find some purpose.
Scanning the newspaper online one day I saw the advert: “Wanted, Young Males for six-month intensive work assignment at the Imperial Ranch Resort. Continuous work with only limited free time. Only active, physical, and disciplined candidates. Accommodation, uniform, and all meals and expenses, even clothing and uniforms, are included. $100,000 for the whole six months. For phone interview send resume, and full-length nude and portrait photos. Subsequent in-person interviews may include offer of immediate start.”
$100,000! That’s more than I could reasonably earn in a year, probably even two, and the advert intrigued me. I never heard of this place, but, I mean, working at a grand resort of luxurious living, would be amazing. Think of the social elite I would meet and cater to. I have to say somehow the word `uniform' was a part of that. I did like the idea of uniforms. I decided that there was nothing to lose so I sent off an email.
They liked my photos and despite my lack of experience (although, for what?) on the phone the mysterious man asked if I would like to come for an interview in person. Of course, I replied, I was too curious not to.
The voice on the phone said, “If successful, you could start right away. Advise your friends and family that you’ll be going on a six-month trip and will not be able to communicate with them during that time. It’s just better this way so you can concentrate on your duties. Oh, and make sure you settle any rent, bills, and personal affairs. There was no need to bring any luggage or personal effects. As the ad stated, we provide all you need.”
It was all a jolt, and odd, but $100,000? And to work at (a probably) international resort… well, it’s Ok with me if they have some peculiar requirements. That’s worth jumping through hoops. I was in. I wore a T-shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes. It was a very warm July day.
I followed directions. I drove to a non-descript building, on the outside of town to meet with the person who would take me to the resort. The only vehicle there was a windowless cargo van. Upon seeing me, the driver hopped out and confirmed whop I was, ushered me into the back of the van. This cargo compartment didn’t even have a window or opening to the driver’s front seat. I couldn’t see anything, but I sat in the one seat in silence. Seemed odd, but for a $100,000… why not. Let them call the shots. After maybe an hour, we stopped. The driver opened the back door and asked me to get in the front passenger seat for the last part of the journey. I gladly did, and as I looked around for the first time, I saw we were in open country with no landmarks. Soon we approached a gatehouse on the edge of a substantial private estate. I realized that I was not supposed to know where this fabulous resort was located.
Well, the super-rich do take their privileges! And it worked. I’d never find this place in a million years. I saw a sweeping drive curl away behind some trees as I was allowed in after holding the buzzer for some time, giving my name, and being obviously scrutinized via a camera. Now, off the bat, it does not seem as elegant or opulent a facility as I pictured it in my mind. Actually, it’s a bit rustic. But that’s just the style.
A smartly dressed butler or servant, perhaps 40, answered the door. Saying very little, he led me into a well-appointed reception room and asked me to wait.
Then the most gorgeous Black man, maybe 30, walked in. “Hello. My name is Jenson. Welcome to the Imperial Ranch Resort. You must be Mike.” We shook hands. “Shall we go downstairs and begin the process?” Which sounded a little weird, but I had no real experience with such things. We descended in the elevator; I think to a sub-ground floor about two stories underground. The doors opened and we went into a large room. Bright, but no windows. There was a desk and he invited me to sit.
“I apologize for not dressing up. I guess I should have worn a coat and tie.” I offered with some embarrassment.
“Not to worry, the required uniform you would be wearing, if we accept you, doesn’t include a coat or a tie anyway.” After a mix of standard and odd questions about my resume, he said that they would like to offer me the job. “$20,000 now, paid into your account to cover any expenses while you’re away from home, and $80,000 in six months upon successful completion of your contract.” Thus far, everything seemed somehow like a done deal. “So, are you interested?"
Oddly, and there were a lot of issues I saw as odd, he hadn't really explained what the job involved, but things “odd,” didn’t bother me. They didn’t raise any kind of red flag. The $100,000 was the overriding green flag that screamed YES!
At that moment into the room walked the most good-looking man, I have ever seen. His head was shaved, his face clean-shaven. He was wearing a smart blue uniform-style shirt with epaulets and breast pockets. He wore no tie, and his collar was fastened either perfectly, or tightly, around his neck. His chest seemed to stick out as though his nipples were pointed beneath the breast pockets, and his shirt seemed somehow sheer and slightly shiny, although from a distance.
But it was what he was wearing - or rather not wearing - below that startled me and caused me to become pretty much erect in my pants. His shirt was tied in at the waist as though by a cord, and he was naked from the waist down. His cock and balls were secured by a steel ring and a rubber or plastic cock and ball holder which stretched his balls below and caused his cock to be semi-erect and stick straight out in front of him, its head glistening and engorged, as mine also now was. He was barefoot, but there were two steel bands around his ankles. They had no obvious method of removal but appeared to fit perfectly and did not move when he walked.
“Interested?” Repeated Mr. Jenson.
Now, I am NOT gay. I mean, I never considered being gay or attracted to men. Well, maybe just a little. But I always sought after females, I always tried to date women. It’s just what we guys do. Right?
“Erm, yes, I think so,” I replied, barely able to take my eyes off this half-naked man in the room. It wasn’t just that he was half naked, it was the sexy uniform, and that his dick was oddly bound up and fully erect. That would make the straightest of us salivate.
“Good. Then sign here, and 26 will take measurements for your uniform,” he said, pushing a few papers in front of me. I signed without even reading anything, hardly able to think about anything other than the sexy man before me.
“Ah, 26?” I asked.
“Yes, this staff member’s name is 26. Everyone who works here gets a number. Names are so passe.” Odd. Why? I thought. And his uniform will be
“Er, does that mean I get a number and this type of… of… of… uniform?
“Yes, is that a problem? We require all our slaves not only to be submissive but to dress in a manner to display their submissiveness. And then there are rules and regulations.”
The word `slave' entered my head but was quickly supplanted by ‘rules and regulations.’ I was in a haze. I was thinking that staff having numbers rather than names was a cute way of presenting staff.
“Mike. Mike?” I looked up as a woke from my train of thought. “I said, remove your clothes.
Not sure why, but I found myself stripping. And as I slipped off my underwear, I could see a ribbon of pre-cum dripping down from my erect dick. My face was red with embarrassment. I was thinking about how I would apologize and explain my excitement. But no one remarked about it. It was as if erections were simply commonplace here.
The half-naked uniformed guy, slave 26, came over to me with a tape measure and began taking my measurements. He measured my neck, chest, arms, and waist, and then, without any real warning grabbed my cock and ball sack in one hand and measured around it with the other. I almost came with his hand around my cock and balls, but he let go quickly. He then left the room, leaving me standing there, stark naked and still erect in front of who I thought of as my boss. A man who was a blank, in that I only knew his name.
“Well, Mike,” Jenson said staring at my erection, “I think you will fit in well here, and make a good slave.
There it was again, ‘slave,’ for a second time. What was this all about? I then realized that I should have read the contract I signed. Thankfully, my hard-on started to deflate slightly as it dawned on me that I may be in trouble. It was only then that I realized that when 26 left the room, he also took all my clothes, AND the contract I signed. If I wanted to quickly read it now, it was too late. Would I ever see that contract again?
“I mean `worker' of course, force of habit, sorry. You will enjoy it here. It will be hard work but think of the eighty thousand dollars in only six months, if you decide to stay, of course. A new statement that now seemed more of a promise than a threat.
I was still processing this when 26 walked back in with an identically dressed, and equally good-looking colleague. This second fellow was carrying a coat hanger with an identical shirt on it and came over to me. I could see that both his and my shirts were made of the same shiny synthetic nylon material. I later discovered that this was because it dried quickly and kept sweat inside when working, preserving a neat appearance, in their eyes at least. It also meant that slaves could be hosed down while wearing it and would dry off quickly without needing ironing.
To me, it felt delightfully sensual as it brushed past me, and I started to become erect again, all thoughts of `slave' and `deciding to stay' banished from my mind. This new person (25 years of age I later learned) handed me a belt which I put around my bare waist. I looked at it and them and I realized just how their shirts were arranged as they were. I put on the belt. He then produced two pre-greased-up suction cups and applied one each to my nipples, quite roughly. It hurt, as my nipples filled each. I now understood why their chests were so prominent, as mine now would be. As the blood-engorged my nipples, I felt almost every part of my body stiffen with excitement. More pre-cum started to leak from my cock. He then took my cock and scrotum, glanced at Jenson, who nodded slightly, and put a rubber bondage contraption on me. Like theirs, straps encircled my cock and balls, as well as separated my balls to be displayed independently. It pushed my scrotum lower and each ball out to the side while thrusting my already hard cock out and upwards. AND, with more shiny pre-cum dripping.
I learned later, this was called a PDS, or Protruding Display Stirrup. Then he handed me my shirt. It was silky smooth and nylon and the most erotic thing I had ever put on. All around my waist, the bottom tucked under the belt so that no shirt material hung below the belt. I could feel every fiber of my cock hardening and lengthening, standing entirely upright. He handed me a plastic collar stay that went over the top button and under each wing of the collar and tightened everything up, constraining the already perfectly fitting shirt around my body. Odd, above the waist I was nicely dressed, below, totally naked. Odd, indeed.
“Good,” said Jenson. “You look the part. I hope you feel smart - I can clearly see it brings out the real you, the heretofore, hidden you,” he said as he looked down at my rock-hard cock. 25 and 26 withdrew, and I realized that I now looked the same as them. I almost came.
“Well,’ Jenson said, sounding more ominously. “It's time we explained a few things, isn't it?
“Er, I guess,” Mr. Jenson.
“Sir. You will call me Sir from now on.”
Now, the document you signed is a total release for you to become our slave here and you will, from now on, do exactly as I say. You will not speak unless invited to. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir.” Somehow this was both threatening and exciting. And, for six months, I could do this erotic game, and even enjoy it.
“You are now wearing your uniform with the Protruding Display Stirrup which is how you will be dressed for the duration of your stay, other than when you will be required to be naked. Do understand that?”
“If it needs washing, you need washing, and both get washed, It does not need ironing, so it will become part of you, perhaps even literally,” he added mysteriously.
“Meanwhile, there are some things that are NOT part of your uniform and one of those is hair. We will arrange for your pubic hair to be chemically removed, and your head shaved - immediately.” Then he made the rules clear.
“At all times you will be required to remember these things: Your ass will be always visible, as it is now, to show availability. Your neck will be always restrained to show submission. Your nipples will always be entrapped to cause you pain. Your cock and balls will be contained and always displayed to illustrate your humiliation. And your Protruding Display Stirrup, known as your PDS, will become a natural part of you.”
“Do you understand?”
“Right. You need to be erect most of the time and so we will arrange, in addition to the device you are now wearing, a combination of electrostimulation and drugs to facilitate this. This will happen overnight. So, for now, it is goodbye.” And with that, 25 walked over and clamped a cloth with some pungent smell to my mouth. I felt myself start to collapse. Then nothing.
I awoke after a dreamless sleep without knowing how much time had passed. I had a haze of dream-like memories. My main sensation was pain. Pain in my ass, in my balls, cock, nipples, and neck. Suddenly, things started to come back to me, starting with the rules that Jenson - Sir - had last said to me.
I was naked. The only good thing that had happened since all this had begun was being put into the uniform shirt, the thought of which made my cock twitch, although painfully. I realized that there was a burning sensation there, around my neck, and on my nipples. I lifted the sheet covering me, pleased to find my arms were not restrained, although there was a steel bracelet on each of my wrists. In any case, I could not have gotten up even if I had wanted to - I was obviously still under the influence of the drugs.
I felt great pain in my ass, with the sensation of something bulbous blocking and filling it, It had stretched my sphincter and was large enough that it was touching my prostrate. The pain was mingled with a feeling of erotic pleasure, and I felt my cock stiffen, although this caused its own pain once again.
My hand went to my head, and I felt that my scalp had been closely shaved, no hair left. I lifted the sheet to see that below everything was hairless, nothing on my chest or pubes. My scrotum was completely covered in a bandage, which had a few red stains on it, and I could see a glint of metal at the base of my cock where the bandage ended. Immediately it felt more painful down there. I saw that my nipples were bright red and engorged and had been pierced, each having a quite substantial ring through it, and they both stuck out far more than ever they had before. My hand went to my neck, and I felt a metal collar, tight fitting, around it. It was cool now but felt as though it had burned me somehow at the back. I realized that it was completely smooth along its entire circumference, there was no fastening, opening, lock, or anything, just a sealed ring with almost no room between it and the skin of my neck, it was about an inch high - tall enough to prevent complete movement of my head downwards.
Suddenly someone entered the room. I was reluctant to turn my head quickly for fear of making the pain worse. I managed to keep my fuzzy mind calm. What had happened had happened, and there wasn't anything I could do about it beyond accepting it, which a significant part of me wanted to do. This erotic game was challenging, parts were very difficult and creepy, but that made it more rewarding. I wasn’t even concerned about the money. The $100,000 was nice, but now my main motivation was this, once-in-a-lifetime, erotic game. I could do this.
It was Jenson who had entered the room and approached me. “Ah, I see you are awake 30.”
‘Thirty?’ I thought to myself. That is who I am now? In vain, I tried to remember my own name and found that I simply could not. I couldn't remember anything beyond reading the advert a week or so ago. I had become a slave and a number. And somehow, I welcomed both.
“Yes Sir,” I managed to say.
“Let me explain what has happened to you,” he said calmly. “First, in the 10 days you have been asleep, the four elements of your body that I told you about before have all been altered to make it easier for you to fulfill your duties. This has involved surgery, heat, and pain, which is why we kindly did it under anesthetic. The drugs we administered have also started a process of making you more submissive, compliant, and uninhibited - all of which will be useful.”
“Your nipples will now become a permanent reminder of the pain you will experience always, they will be attached and weighted as appropriate. Your asshole has been filled with a stretching butt plug which will be always worn other than when you are being entered or evacuated. This electronic ass plug will also be used to provide you with pleasant electrical stimulation as well as electric shock torture.”
I was still in a fog. I heard the ‘10 days,’ but somehow, I knew my understanding of all this was not important.
“Your scrotum has received an implant, hence the operation, stitches, and bandage. This implant can deliver electrical stimulation and will be used to keep you erect when appropriate, which will be most of the time. It can also deliver levels of pain and punishment up to the intolerably excruciating. If, for example, you decide to leave, then once outside the compound a level of pain will be automatically triggered so great that you will return and beg to be allowed back in, despite being fully aware of the torture that comes with a failed escape attempt.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Smiled and then continued.
“You have been fitted with six metal bands with which we will control you.”
‘Six?’ I wondered.
“Your genitals have been engaged with a cock band made of metal. This is permanent and irremovable. It has been welded together and polished. Despite our use of an asbestos/titanium shield because it is so tight to you, this caused significant heat, and you will feel an uncomfortable sensation for a few days, but no actual burning happened, nor will a blister. The same has happened to your neck. Your new collar is sealed and permanent. You will be wearing it forever. It also has an electrical stimulation and punishment circuit within it. Just in case, you know.”
“Your ankles and wrists have been fitted similarly with cuffs. These were tailor-made to your body. They are tight fitting, but not so tight as to prevent a certain amount of weight fluctuation or muscle growth, and - of course - they allow a cord to fit between them and your skin. They are all also able to complete various electrical circuits from the new control center in your scrotum. We could make you dance like a marionette if we wished, and you will, but our control over your pain and pleasure receptors will be absolute. All the features of these devices will be demonstrated once you are recovered.”
“Your body hair from the neck down has been removed with a chemical treatment, this will need to be repeated once or twice more, and after that, you will be able to resume your status in uniform.”
Despite just being told that my life was effectively over, the idea of becoming a slave and the pain and torture as described were thought-provoking. Why don’t I see pain and torture as awful” How odd? And the feeling came over me as my head started to clear, I now wanted nothing more in my life. The news that I was to regain the uniform and that most fabulous Protruding Display Stirrup caused waves of pleasure to flow through my body. I had to suppress the desire to become erect with all my effort due to the pain down there.
“Do you understand everything I have told you?”
“Do you have any questions?”
“This isn't for six months, is it, Sir?”
Jenson laughed, a big belly laugh. “Ah… no, of course not. Apart from the legal document you signed, we really cannot be going to the level of investment we just expended, and release you in six months, how can we? You are 30, of the 29 before you, not all have survived.”
The Imperial Ranch Resort
Part 2 of 5
‘Survived’ was an ominous word.
"Don't worry. While we intend fully to exploit you completely, we will make your pain the source of exquisite pleasure for you, just as it will be for us. We have already greatly manipulated your brain so that you will soon crave pain and humiliation and submission in ways you have never considered.”
I looked up oat Mr. Jenson and he looked like a God. He was a Master of Masters, although, to us, he was Mr. Jenson. What a fucking beautiful man! Consider, in the United Sates, as well in many countries, slavery was a white institution. Powerful white men would dominate, control, own and enslave people of color, especially Blacks. But he was a Black enslaving whites, not to mention a few Hispanics and Asians, and that seemed to make him more powerful.
He continued, “Our Masters are aware of all the limits and boundaries. You will obey everything we tell you to do or be, not because you will be forced, but because you will derive tremendous pleasure at being such an extreme slave.”
“Now rest. In 48 hours, your stitches will be removed, and your training will begin. I will give you a powerful sedative now which will allow your body to heal more quickly and cause you to sleep. Then we will begin the next phase of your enslavement.” With that, he administered an injection to my arm and I drifted away. This time with dreams of the future to come.
When I awoke, was all very different. I looked down and saw what he meant by the ‘next phase.’ I saw my bald scrotum encircled by its metal band. The bandages were gone, and there was a small scar on it to the left of my cock. There was no hair to be seen anywhere. My cock was semi-rigid, the head a darker color than normal. I realized that I was no longer in a bed, but upright, with my hands and feet restrained and stretched out. Gingerly I looked left and right and saw that I was strapped, via a complex series of cords through my metal bands, to a wooden structure, inside a cage. My neck was also restrained, and I remained naked. The room was dark and not at all like the others I had already been in, its walls of stone and seemingly damp. In the distance, I could make out someone else, similarly restrained in a cage directly opposite. His cock was rigid and upright, and this caused mine to become similar. I tried to look him in the eye, but he seemed as obsessed with his predicament as I was with my own. This was now my future. A nameless numbered sex slave, forever in bondage and only to serve some will of my new Masters. The thought simultaneously appalled and thrilled me, and my cock demonstrated the latter.
Just then the lights were turned on, and into the room walked a man. He was large and intimidating, he had the same six metal bands as us, and his rigid cock was in a cage and sticking out and leaking pre-cum, but he was naked apart from a leather harness that pushed forward his bullet-like nipples and attached round his neck and to his cock ring. He had hair and a small goatee beard. I instantly wanted to be in his position and not my own. He was, I guessed, a slave Master, a position somewhere between `us' and `them' (as it was it transpired). We could only call him Sir, but the others, I was to discover, called him `Officer' This one had used to be a Policeman, and a disciplinarian one at that. He was a mountain of muscle and power and suspecting that one day his enormous cock was going to go into me, I stiffened yet further.
“Right,” he said. “30 and 31, it is your turn for training. You may still be sensitive in certain places, but we will soon beat that out of you so that you can become a useful part of the team. Once I release you from your cages, the first thing that you will do is bring each other to orgasm and consume the other's cum. Entirely and happily. Then you will fuck the other in turn. Do you understand?”
I did not know what to say and was still computing the instructions, as was `31' across the room, I think. Saying nothing seemed like a not good idea, however so I mumbled `Yes, Sir' And a few monuments later, so did he.
The slave Master released the cages and our restraints in turn until we were standing in front of each other, naked, erect, and face to face. A stranger, and yet - in some way - a fellow peer and fellow victim. I felt a strange sensation in my scrotum, like a silent buzzing, and my already engorged cock seemed to spring to as fully rigid and erect as I had ever known almost instantaneously.
An all-new understanding became clearer. The Imperial Ranch Resort was indeed a luxurious place for the Masters who owned and controlled that place. And, of course, the paid visiting wealthy guest. Yes, it was wonderfully spectacular… for them. But for the staff, us slaves? … not so much. The ad said they provide all expenses. They spent nothing on us. They provided all the clothes we’ll need, there aren’t any clothes. They provide the uniform, well, there you have it. Our uniforms of one shirt, one belt, slave collar, wrist, and ankle cuffs, and, of course, our cock and ball bondage.
I noticed that, with some jerking, the same thing happened to `31' opposite me. Without any further prompting, and somehow instinctively I moved towards him and dropped to my knees. I took his massive and engorged cock in my mouth and began to suck for all my life. After what seemed like only a few moments I felt rivulets of his hot cum stream into my mouth and down my throat, accompanied by a moaning from him which I seemed to echo. He had already reached down to try to reach my ramrod-hard cock and now did so fully once he was out of my mouth. We switched positions and at only just a touch from his hand on my cock head I sprayed ribbons of cum into his open mouth. It felt amazing and sensational - a stranger, and yet a fellow prisoner, we had exchanged cum in one massive maneuver. Spent, we released each other, and both stood there panting.
“Good.” Said the slave Master. “Part one accomplished. Now, your turn to decide who goes first.”
I had entirely forgotten the second part of the instruction and after expending what felt like a pint of cum, doubted that I would be able to get another erection for about a week. But suddenly my scrotum buzzed again, and a shock of current ran from it to the plug in my ass and the collar around my neck. I was - instantly - ramrod-hard again. I saw that for the same reasons, and so was he.
I decided for reasons not entirely clear to me to volunteer and bent down. I retrieved the butt plug from my hole, and it was expelled with a rapt expectation of something more alive and exciting to follow. I offered 31 my ass, spreading my cheeks.
Somehow, I knew that he like me, had never fucked a guy before, but he approached me with his hard and swollen dick - I could almost hear his buzzing and inched it into my hole.
It was no bigger than the butt plug it supplanted, and yet I found it a thrill as his energy and waves of electrical stimulus flooded through me. Even though I had just swallowed a massive amount of his cum, he managed within a few minutes of pounding to cum again, and I felt ribbons of his hot juice explode inside me. It felt amazing and somehow liberating despite the weird circumstances. I was hard as a rock, and we quickly exchanged positions. He removed his own butt plug and as I inserted my cock into his ass, he groaned as though somehow, I was bigger, and this was also his first time. I shafted in and out and within just a few moments shot my second load straight into him, somehow sealing a fraternity between us forever. As I withdrew, I was glistening from sweat from head to foot, exhausted, spent, and utterly content. I felt that he was doing likewise.
We regained our position, upright, naked, slightly limp, and smelling and tasting of our own and each other's cum. The slave Master simply said, “Good. Now, get showered, put on your uniform and I will begin your training.”
Grabbing our butt plugs from the floor, we instinctively followed him through a door into a large communal bathroom. There were four more slaves inside, two in uniform and two as naked as we were. The naked ones came towards us and wordlessly took us by the hand to two large walled-off cubicles. There they hosed us down with cold water, then soap, and water again. We were douched with nozzles being inserted into our asses, sprayed, and released and the process repeated several times until the water ran clear. I felt a slight twinge of disappointment that 31's cum had been cleaned out of me, but I could still taste it in my mouth. We were each then lathered up from the neck down and told to stand completely still. After a short while the cream started to burn, and I saw that it was removing what hair we had left and killing the follicles.
After what seemed like ages but was probably only five minutes, we were re-hosed down and handed towels. I felt completely dehumanized and deflated. But, once dry, the uniformed slaves came over to us bringing us our belts and shirts. I put on my belt and then took the shirt. As I started to put it on, the slave showed me that there were two small clamps sewn inside to attach to my nipple rings, which he fastened for me. I was now attached to the shirt and suddenly, with a small buzzing feeling emanating from my scrotum to places all over my body, I became completely rigid, nipples, cock, whole body standing completely upright. I didn’t realize that the shirt fabric had fine metal threads throughout. The shirt material somehow magnetically attached itself to the metal cuffs around my wrists and the collar around my neck.
This slave then picked up my Protruding Display Stirrup contraption and secured it on me to divide and lower my testicles and wrap around my cock base next to my metal cock ring. To my disbelief, I became even harder with blood rushing into my cockhead causing it to swell and become purple. Pre-cum started to ooze from the end. I desperately needed to cum again.
He then re-inserted my butt plug, which purred as it joined the circuit from my scrotum, and I felt a wave of pleasure drift between my cock base and prostrate and back again. More pre-cum leaked from my cock head.
Then the group of six of us, with our chests thrust out, our cocks displayed and stiff, our balls delineated and separated and forced down, our ankle cuffs tight, our skin glinting with no hair anywhere other than a fuzz on our heads, we escorted out.
No one said anything. I wondered what on earth would be next. We were led from the elevator and rode it up to the actual outside. This was the first time I had breathed fresh air since all this started... a few days ago? A few weeks ago? Who knows. I was shocked to see us, all of a sudden, outside, in the open, with our dicks leading the way, in view of the main road. What a sight we must have presented, six young barefoot men with shiny uniform shirts, no hair, and sporting enormous erections being led like a pack of horses. The fresh air did something for my brain and it started to clear. I wondered vague thoughts about my predicament and even how I might escape. Then I saw my bouncing erect cockhead and realized that I wasn't even sure I wanted to escape. The buzzing frisson of electricity started again, this time from scrotum to cock to prostrate and somehow to ankles. It maintained my (and the others') erections and caused us to ‘march’ in unison on the harsh gravel.
“Your feet will soon toughen up.” He said, “but for now we will use your control centers to make you walk, whether it is comfortable or not.”
After a few minutes, we arrived at a grand manor house, almost a palace, gleaming white stone with a portico and seemingly hundreds of windows. We did not have much time to look at it as we were led in via a small door to a courtyard.
There was a group of three men. They included the wealthy and powerful, who were dressed normally and smartly.
“Masters,” proclaimed our leader. “We have two new ones for you.”
“Very good. Have they been fitted with the latest technology?”
“Yes, they have.”
“Right, well let's see how well it works, shall we?”
“31,” he called, “come forward.”
I had mixed emotions about this. Having a felt just how erect the device could get and maintain me, and how much of a permanent state of thrill it seemed to provide, I almost wanted to be the demonstration, but at the same time I could tell that there may be pain to come, and while that thrilled me, it scared me.
31 came forward and the slave Master grabbed him roughly and took him to the wall on one side of the courtyard opposite the three Masters. He tied 31 to the wall, starting with his ankles, about three feet apart, then his wrists spread as wide as possible, and finally his neck to a ring on the wall. He remained erect and throbbing throughout all this and I could somehow sense that his scrotum device was functioning.
“Right. Now make him cum.”
“Would you like him to cum quickly or should I draw it out for a few hours for your pleasure?” asked Jenson.
“Let’s test this wonderful technology. Have him climax in four seconds. I’ll snap my findger to start the clock.”
With a yelp of pain and pleasure, instant swelling, jerking, screaming and with an extremely tense body, 31 yelled out and shoot. In exactly four seconds. Ribbons of slave juice were blasting out shot after shot.
Complete silence, then, “Beautiful.” Said Master, and then applause from everyone in the gathering.
31 slumped completely. His dick remained stiff. He literally hung by his secured wrist, as if dead.
“Again,” called the Master.
Jenson adjusted some settings on his handheld controller and pushed some buttons. Once more 31 screamed like a wounded elephant. Every muscle in his well-toned body strained, his dick jolted up and down twice and he shot, but only one great blast, and some dribble. 32 was out. Cold.
I realized that 31 had passed out.
“Can you make him do it when unconscious?” Asked the Master. Would that be a good idea even to try?” Asked the slave Master. I had not heard any dissension from him, no questions or observations, just agreements.
“Well, let's find out, shall we?” He snarled. It was not a comfortable moment.
Jenson manipulated his controls. Although 31's head remained down with his chin resting on his chest, the rest of his body stiffen, his hands made fists, his hips jerked and thrust out, and his cock rose and jerked as though it was being pulled by an invisible string. Despite his remaining unconscious, his body, under the complete control of Jenson, went through every fiber in his body producing the gyrations of a mighty erotic blast, and his dick shot little.
For the first time, 31’s cock went completely limp. And even though he remained unconscious, his body shook violently to climax. He hung there, crucified, limp, damp from head to floor with a mixture of sweat.
“Oh,” said the Master. “That appears to have answered that.”
The slave Master went over and checked 31's wrist for a pulse, and looking back, he said, “He’s still alive, just. But let’s not push it.”
“Well, take him to the sickbay, and fix him up, if you can't, then see if we can salvage any organs and retrieve our investments.”
Turning for the first time to the five of us, Master said, “A useful exercise, I think. Now we know how far we can push you. Officer, that one way to please our guests, right?”
“Now, a new question. How far can we push the pain side of things?”
“Well, there is, obviously, an overlap, as you saw.”
“It would be interesting to see a demonstration with the other new one.” As Master said that, I swore to myself that he looked in my direction and my heart stopped. A trickle of sweat poured down my back, and I felt as though I was glistening all over. “Maybe later,” he added, ominously.
Then he looked at us all with a sweep of his head. “Well, you could all look a bit happier about your wonderful slave positions and smart uniforms, couldn't you?!?”
I realized that with the shock of 31's torture, we were all looking scared and disturbed. Our cocks had become only semi-rigid, which was as soft as our apparatus would allow. However, unbeknownst to us, the control box must have been manipulated just now. Electricity started flowing through our bodies. We all sprang upright and rigid once again, just as 31's rag-doll body was taken from the courtyard. I was filled with dread at what might be coming next, that they would soon come for me.
But as it turned out, it was all rather routine for most of the rest of the day, although I was continually churning over the ominous comments of the Master earlier, while harboring a sense of fear for 31, the faint taste of who’s cum I could still feel in my mouth.
The five of us were dispatched into two teams. I with 25, who had first handed me my shirt, and the other three together. Presumably because of something he and I had written in our resume, we were sent to work on some carpentry and varnishing work. The other three were sent to the main house for - I think - cleaning - and were told to stay in uniform.
The day passed in a routine of drudgery. There were other staff in the house, all male, normally dressed and they did not seem to bat an eyelid at seeing us naked men, erect and bound in our Protruding Display Stirrup, being to work for them. They were able to order us about, but the foreman who was working on the woodwork was kind enough to us. Someone dressed as a butler, in a high stiff white collar, but not naked from the waist down, did walk past however, and just as I was the very first guy I met there, he threw me a glance that was a mixture of pity and disdain.
After a few hours, during which I worked up quite a sweat and was glad somehow that I was naked, a bell rang, and we were directed off to a small room with bench tables in it, obviously part of the staff quarters. The other three in uniform were there, as was the Officer. There were metal bowls, like dog bowls, with what looked like porridge in them. The three guys in shirts were already eating from them, and I sat down and picked up a spoonful. It was not disgusting, but nor was it pleasant and I could detect salt and sugar as well as protein of some kind, There were also thick green biscuits that tasted like a mix of kale and seaweed. It seemed healthy.
“This is a balanced diet of minerals, vitamins, and protein and has been carefully designed to provide you with everything you need for a healthy lifestyle and your work as slaves the officer said, for my benefit. It also contains a cocktail of drugs which are keeping you sexually stimulated and compliant at the same time. It is all you are going to get, ever, so you may as well get used to it. You will only enjoy one meal a day, so I suggest that you get it down.
I was ravenous and I couldn't see any choice but to do as he said, and I noticed that so did everyone else, with varying degrees of willingness. As I was near finished eating, I noticed the return of an electrical sensation in my balls spreading to my cock and prostrate. I became erect once again and noticed that the other five slaves were doing likewise.
“Right,” said the Officer. “Time to evacuate,
which you should all feel like doing by now. There are three stalls.” He motioned to the door behind him. Go in, remove your butt plugs, do what you need to, then give yourself a thorough douching until it runs clear. You do not want us doing this for you, any more than you want us to. You then present your clean ass to me for inspection. I will observe you re-inserting your butt plugs, then get back to work. We did as he said.
I went back to work, with the only real difference being that my cock was, and remained, rock-hard throughout the entire afternoon, as was 25’s. I almost enjoyed the woodwork and managed not to think about my predicament, the Master's threat of pain, or the condition of 31.
Around five hours later we were summoned by another bell, back to the courtyard, where we were hosed down. The three in their shirts were washed with them on, and the two of us naked were washed naked. I saw that the shirts dried incredibly rapidly with the slaves still in them, and looked new and shiny afterward. 25 and I were handed our shirts, and then the troupe was as one again. Except 31 of course, wherever he was.
“Well gentleman,” said the Officer. “Yesterday something happened.”
Yes, I thought, you made someone nearly kill themselves with orgasms, but that was only this morning.
“28, a new recruit, (what had happened to 29 I wondered?) was given the privilege of working in the kitchens. It was a little warm, so he undid the shirt. This is, of course, completely unacceptable, as I am sure that you all know. So, we came to a solution.” The room was quiet.
“Bring him in,” the Officer asked a Master. They bought a guy I did not recognize. He looked like a complete mess. Red, swollen eyes, and bruises everywhere on his face and body, he had been crying and looked like he was in immense pain. But it was not just his eyes that were red. Around his neck, the collar of his shirt was stained red, as were the shoulders, the breast pockets, and down the front. Was he flogged? No, that can’t be it.
“Take off your shirt 28!”
“Sir, you know I cannot,” he cried.
“No, you can't can you!? You stupid asshole! Because we have stitched it onto you. So that you never make the mistake again of removing your shirt without permission. We will need to dip you in bleach later to get the blood stains out of your shirt, and that might sting a bit.”
We all winced at the dreadful sight of that bloody, crying lad.
“Take him away and get him cleaned up.”
I couldn't believe it. They had sewn the shirt onto his skin. Obviously, his nipples had become new buttons on his breast pockets. The buttons were removed. Tiny holes in the two shirt pockets were made so the nipples couple poke through. Then safety pins were stuck through the nipples and closed, as a way to “button” the pockets closed. It looked incredibly painful and yet simultaneously somehow arousing. I felt my cock beginning to rise.
“Right, if you do not want that happening to you, you better perform well this evening and in the future. Stand upright and follow me.”
‘Upright’ referred to our posture and, following a jolt in the scrotums, to our cocks, as well. Yes, we immediately got massive erections.
We were led into the main house, and into a luxuriously appointed lounge room. The three Masters from earlier were sitting in three separate leather armchairs, staring at us as we were led in, erect, uniformed, and with glistening cockheads jutting out.
“So, officer, I think we agreed on a new demonstration of the pain capabilities of our new devices. Which is the other new one?”
The Imperial Ranch Resort
Part 3 of 5
The Officer, and the other slave Master, grabbed me by the wrist and led me to a huge wooden medieval chair on one side of the dungeon-like room.
They attached me to it at the wrists, ankles, and collar and checked that my butt plug was as fully thrust up me as possible. Then they attached electrodes everywhere on my body.
“I know this will be scream time for you, so…” he placed a black hard rubber bar-like gag in my mouth and secured it to back of the chair. I had no inclination to resist any of this, and I felt less of a person as a consequence. Although I was trembling with dread there was an inevitability about what was to happen.
There I was trussed up, tied up, unable to move other than to squirm. With my cock rigid in front of me, silenced by a gag and encased in metal devices and a shiny nylon uniform shirt. I was petrified, resigned, and yet curiously excited, all at the same time.
“Okay, enough of this, make it start.”
Immediately a shock of intense agony spread from my balls to every corner of my body. My brain screamed, and I shouted into the ball gag as loud as I could. I could feel my internal organs being gripped as though by razor wire, and my head felt like it was about to explode. I realized that my cock had become about twice its normal size and was rigid and vertical against me. I started streaming with sweat. From my forehead, down my neck and chest, and everywhere within my shirt.
Then it stopped. I was still screaming. Then another different bolt of electricity shot through me passing in turn from cock to balls to wrists to neck to prostrate to ankles and back, increasingly fast, and stronger with each pulse. It became more excruciating and agonizing with each turn and I started wiggling as much as the constraints would allow me and screaming at the top of my voice. I also noticed that as one particularly powerful wave hit my prostrate it caused me to cum - a great fountain shooting from my cock head, uncontrollably. Even when that had finished the pain continued. And then it stopped.
Then the officer came over, reached behind me, and yanked the butt plug from my ass. Since I was bound to a framework in the middle of the room, he wheeled over a machine behind me, that had a gigantic metal dildo on the end on a pulley and ratchet system of some kind, although I could only see it from the corner of my eye. But he made certain I could at least see it. He came up to me and adjusted the machine so that the dildo was angled and at exactly the right height to enter me. He pushed it towards my ass until I had no choice but to accept it inside me. Then he turned it on. It immediately thrust itself further into me than the butt plug, or 31, had, further than anything had. It withdrew, and returned, rhythmically, repeatedly, as spurts of electricity started to pass to it and back from the device in my scrotum. Both speeded up and the intensity turned to pure pain as it pushed further and faster into me. I hardened and came again, although all I could really concentrate on was the sense of being ripped apart. The end of the dildo started to expand inside me and still, it pushed back and forth. I felt sure it would push right through eventually and the pain was excruciating when it was joined with electrical impulses all over my body shooting back and forth and causing my every nerve to burn. I was just about to pass out when it stopped.
I was almost able to get my breath back when a new and even more devastating pain started. It felt as though a javelin had been punched up from my ass asshole and straight up through my heart to the top of my head and out. I thought I was dying, I screamed, but I don't think any sound came out.
Then everything went black. I awoke and completely to my surprise I was in exactly the same position. Tied hands, feet, and collar to the same wooden frame and with - or so it felt, the same dildo up my ass. And gagged. My shirt was soaked everywhere, and sweat was still pouring out of me.
It felt as though hours had passed, but I simply had no idea. I looked around, and although the collar made this limited, every muscle of my body hurt. I saw the same three men, but each was being serviced by one of my slave colleagues, them kneeling and sucking cocks for all their worth, in uniform and erect themselves, To my complete surprise, I felt my own cock begin to stiffen. It was my erection that caused one of them to notice me.
“Oh, he's woken up. Time to start again. I felt the beginning of an electrical pain spread from my scrotum as the dildo inside started to move again. All my pain receptors were instantly reactivated, but I simply could not help that my cock also became engorged, swollen, enormous, and completely rigid. Then a sharp pain shot through me from one ankle to the opposite wrist and then the other way around. Like an “X” being made. I was jerking and involuntarily spasming. I came, although to my complete surprise, and theirs I thought, this was just as much as the last big one. With my dick pointing upward, the blast nearly reached my mouth. Maybe I had been out for a while, or chemicals had taken effect.
I could not stop sweating and was now thoroughly soaked from head to foot, every fiber of my shirt dripping wet. The pain was continuous and acute, from the top of my head to the soles of my feet jets of pulsing electrical pain shot back and forth. I was spasming and jerking like a rag doll. And then it stopped.
I just had time to breathe, for a moment, when I heard one of them say, “This is great, I just came without anyone me. Do it to him again.”
My terror was complete as electrical sparks burnt their way throughout me from edge to edge, scrotum to cock head to prostrate to neck and back again. Incredibly my cock became hard again, and I felt the blood rising within it and its head becoming purple. One more spurt of electricity straight up my cock. I just realized that they had inserted something into my urethra. I shot a load again, spurts of cum flying out in all directions as I jerked like an electrocuted man, which, of course, was exactly what I was. It was exactly the amusement they created for themselves.
I blacked out again. After a period of just hanging there in semiconsciousness, I heard in my fogged brain, “How is this working? As you expected?’
I recognized Jenson’s voice, “It's far better than we expected. In their minds, they are provoking what THEY think IT can do. They are choosing to do this simply because we - I mean you - tell them to. 31, the one who nearly came to death, every single one of those orgasms was because he instigated it, he caused the electrode to create the stimulus. Even the final one which caused him to lose consciousness.”
“But he nearly died.”
“Yes, but he didn't die. He could not command the fatal blow, because a loss of consciousness would always precede that. At least we think so.”
“Yes. Well, this will be the acid test. If this new half-wit, 30, manages to cause himself so much pain that it kills him, we will have to put a limiter on it. But he has already made himself unconscious twice and then resumed torturing himself the minute he wakes up. Plus, he heard what you said about organ harvest, and I saw his reaction.”
“But eventually he will cause himself a permanent injury, won’t he?”
“I don’t think so, but that is a risk. These are electrical pulses, and he is completely bound. He cannot cause himself to be physically injured, the whole thing is just in his head. The electrical pulses are the same for each of them. It is only their minds, their expectations, coupled with their desires. Look, how even in the middle of all this agony he still chooses to make himself cum. The fucking machine was an idea to make sure there was something new for him to latch onto. Almost to stop him from realizing what was going on. It need not be there, he could have done even that for himself.”
“This is wonderful. What a thing you have created. The implications are enormous.”
Yes, Master. We may - eventually - even be able to get them to imagine the whole process. We will still need them to believe, of course, still a scar in the scrotum and an initial spark, but otherwise the series of hypnosis, drugs, and their own desires to be hurt, humiliated, and punished will be enough.”
“We may as well make use of these that we have though.”
“And how much control do we have?”
“Well, we can start it off, and we can give them a low simulation which is either pleasure or pain. It will cause an erection. And we can turn the voltage up and leave it running. But from that moment on, it is what they do to it. Only our words change that.”
I woke up to find myself in the same position. The room was dark. I ached all over and I was still soaked, although the sweat was now cooling. I could not see anyone else in the room. The fucking machine that had caused me so much of my pain had gone, replaced by my butt plug. I was bound everywhere else, as I had been previously.
I wondered whether my being awake would be enough for the punishment to recommence, or even - without an audience - whether there would still be a point. I felt broken.
Just then a buzzing inside my scrotum told me that control was not in my hands, and I felt my cock engorging and rising. Stronger and stronger the current became until it switched to my prostrate, back to my balls, cock-ring, and then to the bands around my neck, ankles, and wrists. As it intensified, I felt the agonizing pain begin again and I started to writhe and scream into the ball gag. The pain became more and more intense, sharper, and deeper, each pulse longer and more powerful. My cock became yet more and more rigid and vertical until I felt myself cum again. Another great fountain plume of cum went squirted over me and on my shirt and dripped onto my feet, all down my legs. Still, the pain did not stop.
After what seemed like twenty minutes of this, and another orgasm, although with less cum this time, the pain subsided a little. WHAT THE FUCK! NO ONE IS HERE TO SEE ME! I AM ALONE! WHY ARE THEY PLAYING WITH ME WHEN THEY ARE NOT EVEN THERE TO ENJOY MY MISERY? I blacked out again. Total exhaustion AND completely spent. I fell into a deep coma-like sleep.
It could have been hours or days. But there was taking. “Good Christ, he even does it to himself when he believes himself to be alone and unwatched. What a thing you have created.”
“It’s unreal. He doesn’t even know he is doing this to himself, without any electricity. Ni stimulation. It’s all him imagining stimulation. Those drugs and hypnosis work marvelously! You need to get him to the sick bay to stop him from killing himself, if he could do that.
The day passed as they had before, although this time I was obviously in uniform the whole day, and a different, more normal sweat started to leak out of me and into my shirt. Soaked by lunchtime I nevertheless maintained a semi-erection the whole morning, and `lunch' - exactly the same as before - seemed to provide enough energy for me to become completely hard and leaking pre-cum for the afternoon.
Wash-down time came as it had before and once the five of us were dry in the latrines, the officer said that he had some good news. Then into the courtyard, accompanied by another slave Master dressed identically to the Officer, bought 31 and 28.
Although he was standing tall and looked incredibly handsome in his uniform and bindings 31 did not look somehow quite as alive as he had before, and there certainly seemed to be nothing behind his eyes. 28's shirt was completely clean, and all traces of the blood had been washed away. I dreaded to think what pain had been involved in that. There was still red around the edges of his eyes though. They both looked broken somehow.
“Well, you saw what these went through the day before yesterday. And I am pleased to say they have fully recovered. With that, 31's semi-limp cock sprang to attention and became rigid and engorged. But it stopped there, there was not to be another orgasm for him - not right now anyway.
The six of us were clean, neat and all erect, as we were led back into the main lounge room of the mansion.
“Here you are,” said the master. “Previously you all saw, or if you were lucky, experienced, the power of the devices that we have generously fitted you with. Enough with your pleasure, of course, now it is time for you to pleasure us. You will each take turns being fucked by the other five. That's five lots of cum inside each of you, all of which is to be retained. If any leaks out, you will have to lick it up. Then you will release it into the mouth of one other slave, who will swallow it all. Start.”
Instantly all six of our cocks sprang upright to attention. Who is going first? One I did not know was pointed to by the officer and reluctantly, came forward and got onto all-fours on the table. The officer removed his butt plug, and there was his hole, ready to be filled by each of us. My turn was third, and I could tell even by then he had had enough. As I pounded in and out of him my own scrotum and cock ring pulsed pain to my prostrate and it did not take long before I pumped my cum into him, to join the two lots already there.
It occurred to me that whoever was going to have to drink from his ass was in for a big mouthful. My turn on the table was next and I climbed onto it and spread my cheeks for the officer to remove my butt plug. The other five then began to fuck me in turn, starting with 31. It was very painful as the sparks of electricity caused by having cock after cock penetrate me were joined by the device in my scrotum sending pulses of pain all over my body and back again. I felt each explosion of cum inside me, each somehow hotter and more viscous than the last, and it was difficult to hold it all in. But I managed, and somehow fell or rolled off the table completely exhausted having been fucked and fucked in turn.
I managed somehow to cum into the other two. Soon it was time for us to shed our loads of each other’s cum into one another's open mouths. With some pleasure I saw that I was to get that from 26, he had been second so I knew there would be a lot, but he did have the most gorgeous ass. As I squatted down and he placed his hole above me, I opened my mouth as wide as I could, and he let go. The mixture of cum and sweat was heady and enormous as it flowed out like a pistol from his ass straight into my mouth and I had little choice but to open my throat to allow it to go straight down, so forceful and strong was the stream. When he had finished, I took the last mouthful and rolled it around my tongue before swallowing it. I could feel that my performance had pleased the Masters. When it was my turn to let go, I think that it was into the mouth of poor 28, who received it like an automaton.
I stood upright and felt rivulets of cum and sweat drip from the side of my mouth onto my shirt and body.
After all six of us had had our asses and stomachs filled with the cum of the others, and our own, we stood in a line in front of the Masters. With small jolting sensations from our scrotums, we were once again jerked to full erections, although I really did not feel as though I could produce any more ejaculate ever again.
“Well,” said one of the Masters. “It seems that the most capable in that process was 30, don't you agree? The one who likes all the pain. Well now, it is our turn. 30, assume the position on the table again.”
Oh god, I thought.
“Let's take turns to put things in him, shall we?” The Master said to the other two. I saw a smile curl on Jenson's lips. “Me first,” he said, and came towards me, dropping his trousers as he did so.
Without any warning, he rammed his erect cock into my hole. Unlike with my fellow slaves, this was quite a drawn-out fucking. He obviously had cum only moments before and as he tore into my already damaged ass when he did cum it was full-force and hot and continuous.
“Keep it in, boy,” one of the others shouted, “we've got a long way to go yet.”
Then the `main' Master came over, and with Jenson's still-erect cock still in my ass, he pushed his own in too, to double fuck me! Together they started to pound away. I couldn't tell whether this next wave of cum was from him alone or Jenson also, but it felt like an explosion inside me.
The pain started. My scrotum started sending impulses of electricity back and forth to my neck, cock, and wrists. I became rock-hard, erect again and my shirt slowly became re-saturated with sweat and cum from the gangbang fucking earlier.
“Please sir, make me cum,” I found myself saying instinctively.
“Oh, we will,” said the Master as the third one joined them, and they then took turns to fuck me. I could swear that at one point all three of them were in me. At least it felt like it. When all three were done, they withdrew.
“Right,” now release all your Master's cum, and consume it down with gratitude.”
I had little choice but to do as they said and let my ass go, and a great stream of cum left it and formed a puddle on the table. When there was nothing left, I turned around and lapped it up, instinctively quickly to stop it from spilling off the edge of the table. All the while a great screaming agony passed from my scrotum to all points around my body.
“What do you say?”
“Thank you, you most kind and honorable Masters, sirs, for fucking me and letting me eat your cum.”
“Right, let's block him up and try the next one,” one of them said. He came towards me and showed me the largest butt plug I had ever seen, and I seriously doubted that it would fit in me, or that I would be able to walk if it did. Somehow, I knew I was going to find out, and what sweat I had not already produced now further drenched my already-soaked hair and shirt.
“Open wide, you are already well lubricated,” he snarled, and then just thrust it straight into me. I caused electrical signals to flow all over my body again and I started jerking, almost dancing, involuntarily.
“Strap, him officer. Let him squirm.
The officer tied me to the same wooden stand where I had experienced my pain torture the day before, and it all started again, this time the device in my ass tearing me apart and I could barely see for the jiggers of pain and electricity quite apart from my ripped ass. Eventually, I blacked out.
When I woke up, I could see that I was in a room - the same I think - where I had first encountered 31.
Now, all six of us were strapped to the wall, shirts on (barely a surprise in my case), tied at wrists, ankles, and neck, with metalwork gleaming. It seems odd that we were all able to sleep in such a strange position, but when exhausted, drugged, or having blacked out, I guess anything's possible.
There were three of us on each side, I could turn my head enough to see 26 on my left and someone whose name - number - I did not know on my right. 31 was immediately opposite me, flanked by 24, and 28, but 24 was the only one awake.
“Psst,” he said quietly. I looked up. “New boy or 30 or whatever these fucks call you. I doubted very much whether these fucks were able to monitor us. What's your name?”
“Um, I realized that to my dismay I still could not remember. I don't know I.” whispered.
“Christ, he said. “Well, my name's Dave and I am going to get out of here. They strap us into this shit at night, but there's plenty of time during the day when we are unsupervised.”
“But if we were to get out, they would kill us with pain from these things they have put inside us,” I told him.
“Maybe, but do you really think we will survive much longer in here?”
“31, they say, and only six left. I don't fancy the chances, and I don't know about you, but I am not enjoying the wait.”
“Hmm,” I said. “I know that this was the first time I had seen all six of us with limp cocks, although still bound by metal bands and with our Protruding Display Stirrup on. It almost made me want to and start to get hard, but I figured that was not such a good idea with Dave looking at me.
“Ha! I don't think any of us are lucky. If - when - we get out of here we have to get all this metal shit taken off us, and in your case, god knows what else too. But I am getting out.”
“Good luck,” I said.
Then the lights came on, and an electrical surge sprang from my scrotum to my cock, causing me to become hard, and he too, I noticed. The other four, as they were woken up, displayed the most extreme baseball bat wood imaginable.
“Right, you’ll be unbound, and then, all of you, off to get washed than to work. A lot to get done today, and a special evening in store afterward. I hope you are feeling refreshed.”
What `special evening' meant, I had no idea, but I was not feeling refreshed. At least I knew that I would be wearing my shirt throughout it, as there was no choice about that. My workday was like the others, but after a few hours, the slave Master arrived and said, “Come with me.”
I don’t know what will happen, but usually, it involves pain and dread. I was taken to the latrines where the slave Master hosed me down again and carefully shaved my head and face. Once I was dry, he looked me up and down and said, “You'll do.”
He then led me through a tunnel to an antechamber under the entrance lodge where I had first arrived. “Mr. Jenson is in there interviewing new slave applicants today. Your job is to walk in at the signal from the light on the door. Just stand there at the back. Mr. Jenson will monitor the applicant’s reaction. He will hopefully become a slave, but that depends on his reaction when he sees you, the uniform, your restrictions, erection, and demeanor, and then how willingly he is prepared to become naked.”
“If he declines to get naked you will help him remove his clothes, by force if necessary. Mr. Jenson will assist. Normally they just do it. Once he is naked, measure his neck, chest, waist, arms, and around the base of his cock. Do you remember?”
I did, and my own cock stiffened at the thought.
“Yes, I see you do, good, hold that thought. Then take his clothes, the paper he will have signed, and the measurements and bring them out here. Do you understand all that?”
“Good. Wait here until Jenson sends the signal.”
“If all goes well, you will get to fuck this one in a day or two. I hope he is to your taste.”
I looked down at myself. My engorged cockhead was glistening with pre-cum, and - I thought - far more erect than 26's had been that day for me. My clean shirt was as good as new. Thoughts of warning him or disrupting the process did not even enter my head. I felt a twinge of jealousy that he would be seeing his future in me for the first time - the uniform, the restraints, the lack of hair, the near-permanent state of erection. I almost had to suppress my desire to cum.
The light on the wall went on. I opened the door and walked to stand at the side of Jenson's desk so that the new applicant could definitely see all of me.
The young man was Asian. Fuck! Was he mildly toned and hot. Probably 18. He wore a grey T-shirt, tight jeans, and tennis shoes. Just an overall swimmer build. He reminded me of a typical college team swimmer. Broad shoulders and narrow waist. He had black hair and smooth skin. Oops, I almost forgot to mention his bubble butt. Ah, so delicious! The one thing is, he was frightened. He was shy, and worried, very hesitant. He was still talking to Jenson, but I could see that he could barely take his eyes off me. He looked me up and down, stopping momentarily - I thought - to look at my erect and glistening cock. I could not read him. A globule of pre-cum fell from my cockhead down the shaft and onto my ankle. I did not look down, but I could feel it. I stiffened my back and pushed out my chest and nipples.
The Imperial Ranch Resort
Part 4 of 5
“I'm not so sure. Is that what you want me to wear?”
“Yes. This is how you will be dressed for your assignment,” Jenson said. “It is simply the rules of the house. Most of our workers enjoy the liberty of having their genitals free. The uniform is to make you feel like one of the team. Are you interested?”
“I don't know. I'm not gay.”
“Sexuality is immaterial,” Jenson said. “But the $100,000 is very material, isn’t it?”
“Oh, yeah, right,” said the teenage boy. “Oh god. Okay.”
“You’re a college kid, let’s get you started on the road to a new and exciting adult world. You just have to sign here,” the boy did. “Now my colleague will measure you for your uniform. Would you please stand up and remove your clothes?” Jenson asked.
“What, here? You don't have a changing room or anything?” the teen asked.
“No, we don’t, and we need to get your measurements to make sure, er, everything fits.”
The teen hesitated, he was stunned and just stood there. Then Jenson nodded to me. I knew what he meant. I stepped up to the teen. I was going to remove his clothes, I was going to strip, no, SLOWLY strip this swimmer boy naked. My heart was pounding, my hands were trembling. I don’t think he noticed my nervousness because his eyes were glued to my twitching dick, oozing.
I unzipped his hoody and pulled it off his shoulders, gently, as if he were sleeping and I did not want to wake him. I placed it on the table. Then I knelt and untied his tennis shoes, and lifted one foot and then the other to remove both. I reached under the cuff of his jeans to take hold of his white gym socks, and slowly slid them off his feet. My hands lightly rubbed his bare feet and his sexy toes. I stood and placed his sock-stuffed shoes on the hoody.
I stop to think, do I want to remove his T-shirt next and view his muscular chest? Or remove his jeans to see him in just underwear? I opted for the latter. Jeans next. For some odd reason, I took his hands and gently placed them behind his back, saying nothing, but giving him a look to tell him to keep them there. I had him hold one hand with the other, sort of resting them on the protruding mound of his bubble butt. Apparently, he was OK with that.
Mr. Jenson winked, giving me a clear signal to continue my ‘treatment’ of the boy.
Now, I unbuttoned his beltless jeans and unzipped them. Slowly I lowered them, making sure not to drag his white Jockeys down with them. As I slid his jeans down, I lifted one smooth, sexy leg and pulled it out of his pants. Then I lifted the other and pulled that leg out, placing the jeans on top of the shoes on the desk. There he was, in only his tight-fitting T-shirt and cotton briefs. Showing his gorgeous firm legs and sexy feet. I moaned, and my body shimmered as I drank him in.
OK, next the Tee. I lifted his arms above his head. I was amazed at the way he was cooperating with me. ME? a FUCKING cum-dump slave! But Mr. Jenson did refer to me as his colleague, so this teen likely thought I was some authority figure. PLUS... he signed a contract to get $100,000 IF HE OBEYS THE RULES. Of course, he is going to comply with my lusty touches. So much the better.
I pretended to have a bit of difficulty untucking his Tee from his briefs, I lingered there, and actually was rubbing his body with his shirt ‘trying’ to get the tight material off him. I even pinched his tiny perky nipples. AND, he cooperated by keeping his arms up. Mr. Jenson smiled broadly. What the hell? Now I blatantly examine his sparsely hairy underarms. I used my fingertips, not to tickle him, but to give him a little erotic sensation. His eyes closed and his head lolled back as his mouth opened. I pulled the Tee over his head and off his arms. FUCK! Look at those teenage boy pecs! Wow! Amazing.
He looked at me as he slowly began to lower his arms, as a way of asking for my permission. I just looked at him and scrunched my forehead. And up his arms went again. Yep, he thought I was an in-charge man. Great. So, I had Mr. Jenson’s permission, and I had the teenager’s permission. So, I used my fingernails to lightly scratch them over the boy’s nipples. His body shook. Then I very lightly raked them down the sides of his chest, all the way to his Jockey-covered waist.
There he was, naked and barefooted, wearing only jockeys, standing with his arms stretched in the air, begging me to molest him. I first slipped my fingers under the hem of the leg hole and inserted my fingers to seek out and tickle his balls. They were almost hairless. Then I lower the waist of the Jockeys to below his hips and then down slowly, very slowly, and let his stiff dick pop up free and bounce. Then down his legs and off his feet. I gently tap the inside of his feet and he spreads them. I tap them again and he places them wider apart. Perfect.
Mr. Jenson is pleased because the teen has a huge boner. It’s exactly what he needed to seduce him into his (our) slave camp organization. Now I understand why Mr. Jenson allowed me to have my fun with this jew slave, 32. It was because it produced the results he wanted to see. I knelt to begin to tease and suck this teen’s dick. I was going to have him blast down my throat.
But just as I started, Mr. Jenson waved me away. He wanted the boy erect, and to stay erect, not to cum. Wow! Well, it was amazingly fun while it lasted.
“Measurements” was all Mr. Jenson said. I forgot about those. So I began measuring the boy’s body, every which way.
Finally, I grabbed the kid's cock and balls and stretched the package out to measure the base of his dick. I was not sure if it was accurate or even useful, but I did feel his cock twitch and jerk in my fist. I was sure that it was the first time he had ever been grabbed there by a man.
“Fuck you,” said the teenager.
As I was distracting the boy, Mr. Jenson nodded to me. He quickly gathered up all the kid’s clothes on the desk and the signed contract and left the room.
Mr. Jenson then sent in 28 along with one of the Masters to assist me. The slave Master jotted down the measurements as I read them off from the measuring tape. Then he went into a storeroom behind us and returned with a shirt on a hanger, a belt, cock sling, nipple cups, and a collar stiffener.
“Do you remember this?” Master asked me.
“Yes, Sir,” I said.
“He is less compliant than you, but it won’t be long before he will welcome the idea of complying. Now, grease the nipples and put these on them, hand him the belt and shirt, and help him if he does not get it.”
Master whispered to us, “28, after he is completely dressed as slaves should be, and I place the cloth to his mouth, you two will catch him, understood?”
Then loudly to the boy, “Right, now 28 and 31 will now put you into your uniform and you will feel much better. We did as instructed. There was no longer resistance - to the nipple cups or anything. It was even obvious that he would accept me manipulating his cock and balls to put the Protruding Display Stirrup on him. We could tell he was feeling an erotic high, the PDS was doing its job, and so, he will be administered the helpful drugs. Now, he was dressed identically to us, and the PDS had caused him to stiffen fully, and drip a little. 28 and I were completely erect having received bursts of electricity into our scrotums throughout the process.
I pressed the button to signal that we were ready for Mr. Jenson who returned immediately, and started the same script he had with me:
“You will call me Sir from now on.” His eyes expanded at this. I guess he had heard the numbers and the word ‘slave’ already.
“You are now wearing your uniform which is how you will be dressed from now on, and, other than when you are naked, permanently. Do you understand that?”
“Yes, ... Sir,” the boy stuttered.
“If it needs washing, you need washing, and both get washed, It does not need ironing, so it will become part of you, perhaps even literally” he added.
“Meanwhile, there are some things that are NOT part of your uniform and one of those is hair. We will arrange for your pubic hair, what little there is of it, to be chemically removed and for your head to be shaved right away.”
“At all times you will be required to remember these four things: Your ass will be always visible to show availability. Your neck will be always restrained to show submission. Your nipples will be always entrapped to cause you pain. And your cock and balls will be always bound like this to illustrate your humiliation. Do you understand?”
“Oh, my god.” He mumbled and then, “Er, Yes, er, Sir.”
Jenson nodded at us, and 28 went and clamped the cloth to his face. We carried him out between us, to the sick bay. Under instructions from the slave Master, we removed his shirt and were then told to leave. It looked as though a whole team of people in white coats was about to begin working on him. I knew that he was even less prepared for what he was going to wake up to than I had been, and probably he would like it a lot less.
“You two better go back down, there's another one being interviewed,” the slave Master said to me and 28.
We went back and I waited outside until the lamp went on. This was the usual routine, and I loved it.
We had been told that there was some `special' event this night, although what that could be I could not imagine.
As, usual we were washed and dried, shiny shirts, shiny bald heads, and shiny metal bands. We were taken to the main lounge room area of the big house.
All three of the Masters were there, including Jenson. They were wearing very smart suits, white shirts, and ties. We all felt that something earth-shaking was about to happen.
“Gentlemen,” said the main Master. “Today we have accepted a new recruit, 32, into your ranks. He will become part of your group after his initial training. That means we now have one too many of you. One of you will be eliminated. As is our custom, embedded in our contractual rules, he will be tortured to death, since no one leaves here alive.” That was all he said.
After another day or so the new slave, 32, was presented and introduced. He was carrying a butt plug, so clearly something had occurred.
As he stood there in the same uniform as us, and with the Protruding Display Stirrup device causing him to display his stiff, leaking dick in an upward thrust, I saw his reaction to the buzzing electrical feeling from his new scrotum devices. He was obviously surprised and not necessarily a welcome one. He had an uncontrollable massive, body-shaking climax- all over his shirt, down to his feet. After the torrent of cum subsided, his cock became rock-hard erect again almost immediately.
“Wow,” he mumbled just under his breath. Our observing this, and the activation of our own devices, caused the rest of us to become even more erect. As before, were all taken up to the main house in the open air, our erect cocks standing obscenely erect like flagpoles as we marched slowly along in our restraints and uniforms. What a sight we must have made. We were led into the courtyard.
“We have a new slave for you Masters,” said the Officer.
“Good. And you said the new version of the Protruding Display Stirrup which he is wearing, is more powerful and more technologically advanced.”
“yes, Master, we can now make slaves climax to death… if you choose. They are that powerful, Sir.”
“Well, we won’t take it to the extreme, but show me what you can do with 32.
The blonde, swimmer-built kid was itching for this, but to see it happen to one of the other slaves, not to him. The slave Masters were needed to grab and control 32. He fought and resisted, but he was easily restrained and tied to the fastenings in the wall, as 31 had been all that time ago.
“Please don't hurt me,” he 32.
“Silence! Boomed the Master. “Silence him.” A ball gag was roughly pushed into his mouth and secured around the back of his head. I could see him beginning to sweat, and his cock deflate.
“He doesn't seem very excited to be here, does he? Well, secure him to the framework.” Since the boy was so trim and light, it only took one Master to maneuver him over to that medieval-looking timber frame and bound him to it, feet cuffs clipped to the bottom, wrist cuffs clipped to the horizontal ends, and his metal neck collar, secured to the eyebolt behind his head.
Then an electric strike, like a lightning rod we could all feel, sprang from inside the boy’s balls and instantly spread across his body, to his head, hands, and feet. We could see in his eyes and hear through the muffled screams that it was excruciatingly painful. Even so, his cock sprang instantly to attention, and he was drenched with sweat.
“Now, make him cum.” And they did.
“Again.” And they did. His throat shrieked in pain and torment and the sounds coming from his mouth into his ball gag became increasingly animalistic.
“Again.” And they did.
“Again.” And they did.
“Again.” And they did.
“Master, he is approaching death. Shall we stop?”
“No, two more forced climaxes.”
So a full-body shock was again delivered into the now unconscious boy’s body, followed by his dick twitching, bobbing, and dancing with forced excitement and a meaningless climax. And then, the final shock, this time his body made almost no movement, only the sleeping boy’s dick jerked and danced with excitement, unbeknownst to his brain. What a sight, this gorgeous swimmer boy’s body was totally collapsed, as this dick fiercely, and dutifully stood at attention, as commanded by the Master.
The Officer got a full pail of ice water and tossed it at the boy. 32 jerked back to life and weakly struggled in his bindings. His dick, still stiff. Different slaves respond differently. Some do not maintain erections, most don’t after this kind of erotic torture. But young, swimmer-built 32, did. 32’s dick, like the dicks of all the slaves, belonged to the Masters and was controlled by the Masters whether the slave was conscience or not.
This Master turned to us, and scanning all of us in the eyes, “I think that this demonstration of our ability to climax you to death, is a clear warning that you should never misbehave or hesitate to obey the simplest request, no matter how humiliating, or demeaning or painful.”
We were all scared shitless. Our group had changed in witnessing 32’s near-death-producing erotic torture. I felt, I think we all did, that our lives could end at any moment if it pleased anyone of our Masters. Our mindset was to walk on pins and respond without question or hesitation.
Then the orders flew out. “28, rim Master Steve’s asshole.” 28 lept to that Master and quickly forced his tongue to work. “30, suck my balls.” I jolted over to him and threw myself down and sucked. “27 suck Master Ken’s dick.” Then, “29, present your asshole to Mr. Jenson, bend over and stretch it wide for the fuck of your life.” Lastly, “Release 32 and bring him here and hand him a pair of pliers.” A guard did. “32, use those pliers and pinch your nipples, alternatingly, until they bleed.”
This was the harshest training. No bullshit, no easing into it. Every slave did as ordered. Then Master had them all switched positions.
One day the slave Master approached me as I was working, it was close to the end of the day - too late I thought for another interview.
Master spoke calmly, “Switch again.” He did need to yell. His whisper was as good as a command yelled.
“You are all being judged. “Switch.” The one who is slowest to respond, the most hesitant to obey, the one who shows the tiniest bit of self-respect or worth… you will be climate to death, for real.” We all performed instantly, I’m sure. But we were all frightened. We all tried our best.
Our work and rituals continued for the week, with no reference as to who would be selected to die. I put it out of my mind as if it were a ruse, a veiled threat, a joke to intimidate us. I don’t have any idea how long I have been here, days, weeks, months?
One day, while doing the chores as told, Mr. Jenson came up to me, “30, stand up, and put your hands behind your back,” he said. I did so, and suddenly the other slave Master handcuffed me. I was very confused; I had never disobeyed anything. I followed them back towards the main house, and as we approached the door, I could hear talking through it. It was the medieval torture of someone needing to be ‘climax to death' talk I had now heard at least four prior. I wondered who it could be, and why they brought me here, now.
Then it dawned on me. I started to squirm and struggle.
“No. No Sir. Not me. Not now. Please.”
“Shhh,” said the slave Master. “You know it must be.”
“But I did everything. I’ll do anything. I’m the happy slave. I belong here. Please not me.” I pleaded in terror.
“Shhh, it has been decided.”
There were no options to consider. All I had to cling to was the euphoria in death that I had heard the Master talk of. I suppose I knew that it could not last forever.
I was led into the room, just as the wall of dildoes was bought in from the other side. “Oh no, they’re going to fuck me to death.” I saw the small, metal-barred cage on the waist-high table and shuddered. The slave Master then removed my butt plug and started to force me to back up to enter the cage feet first. I had no choice but to comply and squeezed myself in. I guess I had accepted death and just wanted to avoid any more punishment that was not to their plan.
Once I was in the cage, on all fours, in a dog-like position, my wrists and ankles were secured to various points on the cage frame so I could not move. Then, the entry door, which had a large opening in it, was closed and locked. My head stuck out in the opening and my collar was secured so that I could not pull my head, even an inch, back inside.
Then it started. Cock after cock was rammed into me and it felt like I accepted about a gallon of cum up my ass and down my throat. I could feel the girth of each of the slave Masters in turn, and then, I think, both at the same time. Each of the Masters, Jenson, and combinations of them. All the while the pain of electricity was shooting from my scrotum to every point on my body, it felt as though the jolts were connected to, or through, the metal cage itself.
Then the dildoes on the fucking machine started and I was leaking cum as they drove further and further into my ass displacing anything that was there before. As my prostrate got repeatedly massaged I came repeatedly, although only dribbles compared to the volcano-like streams I had managed once.
As I progressed up the dildo sizes it felt as though my ass would tear right open and death would soon follow. I don't remember euphoria. I passed out.
The Imperial Ranch Resort
Part 5 of 5
When I came to, I thought, ‘is this death?’ Somehow it felt so strange and so normal at the same time. I felt a string sense of freedom and loss at once. I was in a ditch by the side of a road, in a wide-open country area. No building, no nothing. Everywhere was greenery, grasses, plants, and the occasional flowering shrub. The air was clean and fresh. I found it a bit unsettling that there were no musky, manly, sweaty smells. I looked down and saw that I was wearing a T-shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes.
Confused, I felt my neck. There was nothing there. No slave collar, no tight shirt collar, nothing. I looked at my wrists. Bare. No welded-on metal cuffs. I hitched up the trousers and lowered the socks. No ankle cuffs. I realized that these were my clothes, the clothes I was wearing when I entered the facility.
FUCK! It was a sadistic dream! I am dreaming! Those bastards! Had I been dreaming? I was, wasn’t I? I wondered. Had all this been some kind of dream? It felt so real, so long, and so visceral.
My hand went to my head - just a light stubble on it. I looked down and undid the trousers. I was wearing underwear! I pushed it down and saw my cock and balls. Entirely hairless. It cannot have been a dream. But there was no Protruding Display Stirrup forced-erection contraption, just my cock.
My ass hurt - a lot, but there was an emptiness, a hollow feeling - I realized that for the first time, I could remember there was nothing in it. I almost wished there was.
I was confused, and I must confess, more than a bit disappointed. Not that I was not dead, but that I was alive and here. I also breathed a sigh of relief that the whole `fucked to death' thing had simply been a cover for getting rid of me. They, for whatever reason, didn’t want me anymore, but the slave who remained needed to understand that there was no escape and no release. We had to die. It had to seem like we were dead to the others to keep the fear of god in them, I suppose. I mean, I believed the slaves those who disappeared, died. Now I am one of them. And it was good to know that they are as alive as I am.
I felt some stuff in the pockets of my jeans. A wallet - my wallet. And an folded up envelope with papers. I pulled these out. It was my contract - several pages long, with my signature at the end and a red stamp that said ‘Contract - Completed', initialed with something illegible but which looked like a J. I opened my wallet and there was my driver’s license, and … a certified check filled out… for $80,000 and made out to `Mike Wyatt'. To me. This was me.
I wanted so much to run back, to find them, to beg to be naked, in my uniform shirt, bound, with my metal bands and my Protruding Display Stirrup to be erect forever. But I had no idea which direction, no way of knowing where they were. I knew that they did not want me.
I slung the jacket over my shoulder and started walking. Just a few steps along a small and very pleasurable buzz went off in my scrotum. My cock stiffened, and a smile spread across my face. You know, it never dawned on me that this, and past moments, of erotic stimulation, had nothing to do with drugs and electricity. It was all me, I guess from hypnotism. But it was all me wanting, doing it. Thinking back, I’m not sure I was ever drugged. I think they just told me I was to help bring out my submissive side.
I noticed that my body hair was growing back and the marks and bruises on my body were fading. I had come out as gay to my friends and family and I had managed to get a good job and I was happy, although I genuinely think I will never be quite as happy as I was for some of that time at the house. I still have a thing for nylon shirts.
One night, I was in a gay leather bar, which was kind of busy on a Friday night. I went there alone and sat alone. That's me, the loner. At 25, still looking for purpose in my life. Something consistent, permanent. And after an hour or so, someone sat down next to me. He was good-looking Black man, and well-built.
“Hi,” he said. And then his eyes did a double take. And so did he. I finally, ‘Oh my God!’ It was Mr. Jenson. No doubt about it. What a wonderful and surprise for me. “Remember me from the Imperial Ranch Resort?” He said.
“Er, yes. Hello, Mr. Jenson, Er, Sir.”
“Ha,” he replied. “I know you, but I'm afraid I cannot remember your name. Just 30.”
“Mike,” I said, and I put out my hand. It was such a comfort to see anyone from the ranch.
He smiled and was genuinely happy to see me. But as he looked into my eyes, he did not take my hand. Rather, he placed his hand on my shoulder and gently guided me to the floor. I didn’t even realize that I was lowering myself. I was on my knees and his hand was on my head, with slight pressure. Down I lowered my head and all of a sudden, I was licking his black leather boot. OH, MY FUCKING GOD! I WAS IN HEAVEN! SHIT! IT FELT SO GOOD TO BE IN MY VERY SPECIAL PLACE!
I guess a lot of guys at the bar were looking at us, specifically me, but I didn’t concern myself with them. I had a focus, a boot, Mr. Jenson’s boot, my Master. Mr. Jenson.
As I was bent over, doing my job, I felt two hands grab my tucked-in shirts, both my T-shirt and my outer shirt, and pull them out of the back of my pants and in one firm, continuous move, pull them up my back, and over my head, causing my arms to flail upward. Being free of my shirts, I returned to my task, the most important job I have had since my released – since I was rudely kicked out of my home, the ranch.
With Master Jensen in front of me, someone else, behind me, must be loosening my belt and jeans and pulling them off me, my socks and tennis shoes were also gone. I was now licking Master’s other boot as my hair-stubbled scalp was being massaged by Master. Yes, Master. He was no longer Mr. Jenson. He was Master. Where was this leading? I had no idea and no concern. Where were my shoes and clothes and the stuff in my pockets? Such a stupid question.
I was there, surrounded by maybe 40 guys, most dressed in at least some leather. Me? I was totally naked, on my knees, licking Master’s boots. I had a huge boner; I know I was making a pre-cum mess on the floor. I heard the master say something, not sure what it was. I didn’t care. Several guys lifted me up to a standing position and then bent my body over the bar top. It was the low portion of the bar, waist high, where drinks were passed to customers. My bare feet were on the floor, my belly was flat on the bar, and my head hung slightly on the other side, where the bartenders were.
A dick appeared at my lips, I opened it wide and whispered it. It was magnificent! I loved working on the t wonderful stiff, huge, pole. Whoever it was, had his fingers on my ear, gently, with slight force, pumping his hot tasty dick into my welcoming mouth. So focused on my mouth invader, I didn't notice that asshole also had a visitor. I was being “speared” at both ends. I placed my hand to grab and hold tight the man’s ass who was pumping me. At some point, he tinted my chin slightly upward so he could drive his long dick all the way into my throat. He pounded his shaft mercilessly; it was so difficult to get used to it. Just as I learned to accommodate his shaft, it was gone. Quickly another beautiful dick plunged into my empty mouth hole. “Oh yes, I was so happy.’
I heard some yelling or arguing, someone shouted, “No crowding, get in line like everyone else.” Then, there was some maneuvering around my backside, The fucker left me and, I guess, two guys each pick up one of my feet, and pulled them apart. I thought they were pulling me too wide, too harshly, but, no, they had a right to control me just as it pleased them. And as I just got used to my legs being stretched, a new fuck pole was being inserted into my slave ass.
For a moment, I wondered if any of these dicks belonged to my Master. I wondered if Master approved of my full body use. I wondered if he was coordinating it. But… what the fuck do I care. I was in pig heaven.
Odd, I never considered my erection or my need to climax, such a stupid, silly thing for a slave to thinking about. IU doesn’t remember the fuckfest ending. I don’t remember talking to Master or asking any questions. I had a vague image of my being carried out of the bar, naked, and placed in the open bed of a pick-up truck. I remember a brief vision of the starry night sky.
I woke up naked in a bed, but I couldn't move my body. Not because I was bound, but because I was extremely stiff and sore. It was a nice room, there was even a fire going in the fireplace. I moved my head from side to side and did not see my clothes. I wondered where I was. Then, Mr. Jensen… I mean, my Master came in and smiled.
“Oh… where are my clothes?” I ask.
“Your wallet and keys are on the dresser,” he pointed to them. “Your clothes? I guess they were taken by the guys at the bar, or maybe tossed in the trash. They’re not important to you, are they?” he spoke calmly and seriously.
I shook my head no.
“Look, I know you have questions, and more importantly, you have wants and desires.” He paused and I remained silent. “I will tell you what I want, what I have in mind for us. And after I tell you, you have all day to come to a decision, whatever you choose, is fine with me. You, of course, are free to leave. I’ll give you some of my clothes, take you to your car, and wish you well. No problem.”
I continued to listen.
“I want you to be my property. No, we're not going back to the ranch, that’s over for you, and likely for me too. I want to move on with one piece of shit property, just one slave dedicated to only me. But my lifestyle is the same as those Masters at the ranch. You are a good-looking, well-built young man. But what I like best is what I see in your soul. You need to belong… to a Master. I want to own you 100%. You will do whatever I say or be punished. There is no discussion. No other option. Your goal, your sole task in life is to please me and whoever else I offer you to. You can think about it today, but I need to know by 5:00 tonight. But there is no going back. I will use you not only in every way that we used and abused you at the ranch, but I am more creative than that. So, think of me as a Master at the Imperial Ranch Resort times 10.
I still listened, intently, saying nothing. Absorbing his every word, being as clear-headed as I could be. What he was saying, was to me, a life-or-death situation.
“To be absolutely fair, I will leave you alone and return at 5:00 pm. If you want to leave, I’ll give you some clothes, and take you to your car. Be happy and well. However, if you want me to own you, with no limitations, then, when I return, you will take your keys and your wallet – with your $800,000 check in it – and toss them into that fire. No other choice. I …”
I immediately got my sore body out of bed, grabbed my precious wallet with my hard-earned $800,000 in it, and threw them into the fire. Then I immediately dropped naked on my knees, hugged my Master’s legs, and cried.” He let me be. He didn’t even reach down to touch me then.
“After a few minutes, he pulled me up. Took a something from the counter and attached it to my dick. Not sure what that was all about, but then, he smiled. And said, “I own you.”
I was so happy. I was so happy and proud.
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