181 Imperial Ranch

The Imperial Ranch Resort
Part 1 of 5

My name is Mike Wyatt. I was 25 years old, fit, lean, and tanned. Despite a good college education and willingness to work, I never had a job. 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 a 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 to start immediately.”

$100,000! That’s more than I could reasonably earn in a year or 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 there was nothing to lose, so I sent 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 cannot 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 hot July day.

I followed directions. I drove to a nondescript building 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 silence. Seemed odd, but for $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 I was not supposed to know where this fabulous resort was. 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. I think we descended in the elevator 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, Mr. Wyatt, if we accept you, the required uniform you would be wearing doesn’t include a coat or a tie anyway.” After a mix of standard and odd questions about my resume, he said 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, the most good-looking man I have ever seen walked into the room. 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 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 like 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 way to remove it, but it appeared to fit perfectly and did not move when he walked.

“Interested Mr. Wyatt.?” 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. “Oh, and please call me Mike. Just plan Mike will do.” It wasn’t just that he was half-naked. It was the sexy uniform, and his dick was oddly bound up and fully erect. That would make the straightest of us salivate.

“Actually, once you officially sign up, your name won’t matter anymore. You will be assigned a number. Now, 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 to be submissive and dress 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 thought that staff having numbers rather than names was a cute way of presenting staff.

“Mike. Mike?” I looked up as I 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, approached 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. Only then did I realize 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, a 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 and approached me. I could see that 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 ironing.

To me, it felt delightfully sensual as it brushed past me, and I started to become erect again. My thoughts of ‘being a slave' and `deciding to leave' faded from my mind. This new person, who I later learned was 25, handed me a cord-like 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 excitedly. 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 Device. 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. Oddly, 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 previously 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.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Now, the document you signed is a full 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 Device, which is how you will be dressed for the duration of your stay, other than when you will be required to be naked. Do you understand that?”

“Yes, Sir”

“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, some things are NOT part of your uniform; one 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 must remember these things: Your ass will always be visible, as it is now, to show availability. Your neck will always be 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 Device, known as your PDS, will become a natural part of you.”

“Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Right. You need to be erect most of the time, so we will arrange a combination of electrostimulation and drugs to facilitate this in addition to the device you are now wearing. This will happen overnight. And just to be clear, you are totally exposed below the waist because your dick, balls, and ass are no longer yours. You may neither touch them nor hide them. This uniform allows them to be on display and ready for anyone’s use. 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 returning to me, starting with the rules Jenson - Sir - had last told me.

I was naked. The only good thing that had happened since all this had begun was being put into the uniform shirt, 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 to touch 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 like it had somehow burned me in 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, fearing worsening the pain. 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 complicated and creepy, which 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? I tried to remember my name and found that I 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, so 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 always be 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 keep you erect when appropriate, 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 causes significant heat, and you will feel uncomfortable for a few days. Still, 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 can also 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. These devices' features 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 can 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 Device caused waves of pleasure to flow through my body. I had to suppress the desire to become erect with all my effort because it caused pain in my dick.

“Do you understand everything I have told you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“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 go to the investment level 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 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, humiliation, and submission in ways you have never considered.” I looked up at Mr. Jenson, a nicely built Blackman, and he looked like a God. He was a Master of Masters, although he was Mr. Jenson to us. What a fucking beautiful man! Consider that in the United States and many countries, slavery was a white institution. Powerful white men would dominate, control, own, and enslave people of color, especially Blacks. But here were Black Masters enslaving mostly white men, along with a few Hispanics and Asians, and that seemed to make him more powerful. He continued, “Our Masters know 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, allowing 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, it 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 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. Still, he was naked apart from a leather harness that accented his bullet-like nipples and wrapped around his neck and then down 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 used to be a Policeman and a disciplinarian one. He was a mountain of muscle and power, and suspecting that one day his enormous cock would 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 valuable 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. However, saying nothing seemed like a not-good idea, 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 stood 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, I instinctively moved toward 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 to volunteer for reasons not entirely clear to me 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. 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 shot my second load straight into him within a few moments, sealing a fraternity between us. 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 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 to two large walled-off cubicles by the hand. 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. The process was 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 lathered up from the neck down and told to stand completely still. After a short while, the cream started to burn, and I saw it was removing the hair we had left and killing the follicles.

After what seemed ages but was probably only five minutes, we were re-hosed 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 Device contraption and secured it 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 to an 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 I started to clear my head. 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 mansion, almost a palace, with gleaming white stone, 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?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“31,” he called, “come forward.”

I had mixed emotions about this. Having seen just how erect this device could get me and how much of a permanent state of thrill it can provide, I almost wanted to be the demonstration. However, I could tell that there may be a 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 fingers to start the clock.”

With a yelp of pain and pleasure, instant swelling of my dick, and jerking, twitching body, I screamed and shot another load again in exactly four seconds. Ribbons of slave juice were blasting out volley after volley.

Complete silence, then, “Beautiful,” said the Master, and then applause from everyone in the gathering.

31 slumped completely. His dick remained stiff. He was 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 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. Jenson voiced no dissent or concern.

“Well, let's find out, shall we?” Master 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 stiffened. 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 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, see if we can salvage any organs and retrieve our investments.”

Turning to the five of us for the first time, Master said, “A useful exercise, I think. Now we know how far we can push you. Officer, that's one way to please our guests, right?”

“Yes, Sir”

“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 all looked scared and disturbed. Our cocks had become only semi-rigid, 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 terrified 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 had 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 male staff in the house, normally dressed, and they did not seem to bat an eyelid at seeing us naked men, erect and bound in our Protruding Display Device, 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, just as I was the 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. We were directed off to a small room with bench tables, 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 neither disgusting nor pleasant. I could detect salt, sugar, and 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 will ever get, so you may as well get used to it. You will only enjoy one meal daily, so I suggest you get it down.

I was ravenous and 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 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 privileged to work 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 repeat the mistake of removing your shirt without permission. We will need to dip you in bleach later to remove the blood stains from your shirt, which 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 excruciating 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 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 the back of the chair. I had no inclination to resist any of this, and I felt less than a person as a consequence. Although I was trembling with dread, there was an inevitability about what would 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, intense agony spread from my balls to every corner of my body. My brain screamed, and I shouted into the ball gag as loudly as possible. I could feel my internal organs gripped as though by razor wire, and my head felt like it was about to explode. I realized 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 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 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 end on a pulley and ratchet system of some kind. However, I could only see it from the corner of my eye. But he made certain I could at least see it. He approached 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 like 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 didn'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 like hours had passed, but I 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. Do it to him again.”

My terror was complete as electrical sparks burnt 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 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 died, 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.”

“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 must 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 soon be able to create an entire 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.”

“Oh yes.”

“And how much control do we have?”

“Well, we can start it off and give them a low simulation, 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 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 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 unbearable pain begin again. 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 increasingly rigid and vertical until I felt myself cum again. Another great fountain plume of cum 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 I was obviously in uniform the whole day this time, and a different, more normal sweat started leaking out of me and into my shirt. Soaked by lunchtime, I 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.

The wash-down time came as before, and once the five of us were dry in the latrines, the officer said he had some good news. Then, into the courtyard, accompanied by another slave Master dressed identically to the Officer, bought 31 and 28.

Although standing tall and looking incredibly handsome in his uniform and bindings, 31 did not look as alive as before, and nothing seemed to be behind his eyes. 28's shirt was spotless, 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 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 to be retained. If any leaks out, you will have to lick it up. Then you will release it into the mouth of another 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 he had had enough even by then. As I pounded in and out of him, my scrotum and cock ring pulsed painfully. 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 would 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 began to fuck me in turn, starting with 31. It was excruciating 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 denser 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 possible, 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. 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 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 begged earnestly.

“Oh, we will,” said the Master as the third one joined them, and they then took turns to fuck me. I could swear that all three of them were in me at one point. 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 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 would 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 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. It all started again. This time the device in my ass was tearing me apart. Eventually, I blacked out.

When I woke up, I could see 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 could all 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?”

I realized that I could not remember. “I don't know,” he whispered.

“Christ, he said. “Well, my name's Dave, and I will escape from here. They strap us into this shit at night, but there's plenty of time when we are unsupervised during the day.”

“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 don't know about you, but I am not enjoying the wait.”

“Hmm,” I said. “I know 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 Device on. It almost made me want to start to get hard, but I figured that was not a good idea with Dave looking at me.

“You're lucky.”

“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. As they were woken up, the other four displayed the most extreme baseball bat wood imaginable.

“Right, you’ll be unbound, and then, all of you will get washed, then to work. There is a lot to get done today and a special evening in store afterward. I hope you are feeling refreshed.”

I had no idea what `special evening' meant, but I was not feeling refreshed. At least I knew I would wear my shirt throughout it, as there was no choice. 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?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“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 see 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 Imperial Ranch Resort
Part 4 of 5

The light on the wall went on. I opened the door, entered, and stood at the side of Jenson's desk so the new applicant could fully see me.

The young man was Asian. Fuck! He was mildly toned with an overall swimmer build. He was hot! Probably 18. He wore a grey T-shirt, tight jeans, and tennis shoes.
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.

“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 ensure 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 gently pulled it off his shoulders as if he were sleeping, and I did not want to wake him. I placed it on the table. Then I knelt, untied his tennis shoes, lifted one foot, and then removed the other. 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, signaling me 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 if to ask for permission to do so. 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 enjoyable 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 it was the first time a man had ever grabbed him there.

“Fuck you,” said the teenager.

As I was distracting the boy, Mr. Jenson nodded to me. He quickly gathered up all the kids’ 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 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 his 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 to put him out, 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 Device on him. We could tell he was feeling an erotic high; the PDS was doing its job, so he was 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, some things are NOT part of your uniform; one 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 must remember these four things: Your ass will always be visible to show availability. Your neck will always be restrained to show submission. Your nipples will always be entrapped to cause you pain. And your cock and balls will always be bound like this to illustrate your humiliation. Do you understand?”

“Oh, my god.” He mumbled, “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 told to leave. It looked like a whole team of white-coat people was about to begin working on him. I knew he was even less prepared for what he would wake up to than I had been, and he would probably like it much 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 there was some `special' event this night, although I could not imagine what that could be.

As usual, we washed and dried shiny shirts, bald heads, and 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 fashionable business 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 in the same uniform as us, and with the Protruding Display 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. Observing this and activating our own devices caused the rest of us to become even more erect. As before, we 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 Device he is wearing is more powerful and 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 bind them to it with ankle 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 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. His dick twitched, bobbed, and danced with forced excitement and a meaningless climax. And then, the final shock: his body made almost no movement this time. Only the sleeping boy’s dick jerked and danced with excitement, unbeknown to his brain. What a sight, this gorgeous swimmer boy’s body 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 is still stiff. Different slaves respond differently. Some do not maintain erections, and most do 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 any 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 switch 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 without referencing 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 know how long I have been here, days, weeks, months?

One day, while doing the chores as told, Mr. Jenson approached 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 bewildered; 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 ‘climaxed to death' talk I had now heard at least four prior. I wondered who it could be and why they brought me here.

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 brought 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 forced 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 a dog-like position in the cage, on all fours, 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 simultaneously. 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 like the jolts 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 repeatedly came, although only dribbles compared to the volcano-like streams I had managed once.

As I progressed up the dildo sizes, it felt like my ass would tear 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 strange sense of freedom and loss at once. In a wide-open country area, I was in a ditch by the side of a road. 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 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 Device 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. I was not dead, but 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. I suppose it had to seem like we were dead to the others to keep the fear of god in them. I mean, I believed the slaves, those who disappeared, died. Now, I am one of them. And it was good to know they are as alive as I am.

I felt some stuff in the pockets of my jeans. A wallet - my wallet. And a 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.' This was me.

I wanted so much to run back, find them, beg to be naked, in my uniform shirt, bound, with my metal bands and Protruding Display Device 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, managed to get a good job, and 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, I am still looking for a purpose in my life. Something consistent, permanent. And after an hour or so, someone sat down next to me. He was a good-looking Black man who was well-built.

“Hi,” he said. And then his eyes did a double take. And so did he. I finally said, ‘Oh my God!’ It was Mr. Jenson. No doubt about it. What a wonderful 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 he did not take my hand as he looked into my eyes. Rather, he touched 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 suddenly, 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 many 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 and untuck both my T-shirt and my outer shirt, 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 since my release – 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 stupid questions.

I was 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 my Master say something, but I was not sure what it was. I didn’t care. Several guys lifted me to a standing position and 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 my mouth to welcome it and licked it. It was magnificent! I loved working on that wonderful, stiff, huge pole. Whoever it was, he 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 onto the bartender’s hips to get him to face fuck me harder as my ass was being expertly rammed. 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, and 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 picked 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 think 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 bed but 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?” 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 decide, 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 sole goal 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, consider me times 10 greater than any Master at the Imperial Ranch Resort.

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 p.m. 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 $80,000 check in it – and toss them into that fire. No other choice. I …”

I interrupted him with my immediate and dramatic leap out of bed. I grabbed my precious wallet with my hard-earned $80,000 and threw it into the fire. Then I 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.

Finally, he stood me up, secured a black leather slave collar around my neck, and immediately walked me out to his car. He drove into a downtown area. I was freaked out because he was dressed, and I was naked. But I looked at him and knew my commitment to him was unconditional. I felt stupid getting freaked for the quick moment. I was at peace with my Master. I wanted nothing more, least of all, to make decisions. “Not only was I hoping you’d agree to be my property, but I knew deep inside that you would totally surrender to me. This is why I had planned a welcome this morning and texted my friends to join us at your welcome home party just for you.”

Master parked the car, but no homes or businesses in this vicinity seemed like our destination. I wondered where in the car he stashed clothes for me to wear since I assumed we would be entering someplace. Or, most likely, he’d have me wait in the car as he went into t a store or whatever to get something for the “party.”

I was surprised when Master got out of the car, came around to my side, opened my door, and gently tugged me onto the sidewalk using the leash.
I had many questions, but I knew none were appropriate. We were in broad daylight, he clothed, my naked and in a lease, walking down the sidewalk. This, of course, was his town. I was never here before. Some passing cars honked, and drivers whistled or shouted. We walked a few blocks and saw a nightclub-type business named “Buns” on the marquee. As soon as we entered, many of the men there knew him and greeted him. Apparently, he invited them. None of them greeted me, although they all stared and smiled at me, or was it my bold nakedness. He looked at me sternly, obviously to signal that I should not embarrass him. “Yes, of course,” I said to myself and immediately dropped to my hands and knees. He then led me to a grouping of small bar tables where his friends all gathered, all drinking.

“Hey Jessie,’ Master yelled out to the bartender, “Another round of drinks for my friends.” Master never spoke to me, nor did anyone else. No one was mean to me, not that that mattered if they were. I was their amusement. Anyway, Master wanted me to be. There was a pair of boots right before me. I began to lick them. Another of his friends took the leash from my Master and pulled my head to the crotch of his jeans. He pressed my face into his bulge. I didn’t know what to do. This was mostly a gay bar, but some women were in there, too. And I didn't want to embarrass my Master. However, I guessed. I used my hand to unbutton and unzip his fly, pulled out his long, soft, uncut dick, and began to suck it. It got hard quickly, and I enjoyed it very much. I was ready for Master to thump me on the head, telling me to stop it. But he just continued to talk and joke with his buddies.

My leash was jerked off that dick, and my mouth was placed before a hand. A finger with sauce on it was jammed in my mouth. FUCK! THAT WAS SOME KIND OF HOT SAUCE! It burned my mouth. I even tried to pull away, but the man with my leash held my head there and still, so I continued to suck his finger clean.

“OK, boy, now watch this,” and he squirted a big glob of hot sauce on the same finger. “Now you want me to stick this up your shit hole, don’t you?” I hoped Master heard him and would rescind his request, but Master was too busy laughing his head off with his other buddies.

So, with great hesitation, “Yes, sir.”

“You know, I know Master Jenkins very well, and I know he trained you better than that.”

I know what he meant. “Yes sir, please shove your hot sauce finger up my shit hole, please. Please.”

“And do you just want one finger load up your asshole or multiple servings of hot chili sauce up your hole?”

I began to sob. I knew that would be painful, “Oh please, shove as much as you like, sir. I’d be so honored and pleased. Thank you, kind sir.”

And I turned my ass to the man and waited. “Aren’t you going to spread your ass cheeks so I can get it all up there?”

“Oh, Yes, sir. Please.” And I used my hands to spread my ass, and he pushed his finger in. It took only a moment for my hole to fill; it was on fire. “I cried out loud but kept my ass spread. “Please give me more, sir.” My body trembled and shook. And I sobbed but did not move away. “Mr. Jenkins, the back room is ready,” the bartender called out. I knew last night I was in a bar full of strangers having sex with me. But I felt that was an anomaly, a once-in-a-lifetime event. But here we are, with Master’s friends, in a more mixed and public place, a nightclub, with straight men and women too. I didn’t know what to expect.

Most of our group, maybe 18 of us, moved into the adjacent room. No one bothered to close the door. “Ok, we all know the eight-men man wheel, so let’s form that here in the center table,” Master suggested, and they did. That's seven guys encircling a round four-foot diameter table. Master took my leash and nudged me to the table. “On you go, lay on your belly and let your head and arms fall off the edges.” I assumed someone would fuck me, but why were seven guys surrounding me? “OK, so, Jimmy, you take the right foot, Larry the left foot, Mel, the right hand, Joey the left hand, and Kenny, you take his head and hold it up and still.”

Well, I can count. That’s only five guys. I wondered. “OK, now, guys, pull those limbs out and use some force. You guys at the feet, lift his legs way apart and up high.” They all complied. “No, lift the legs much higher. Like he is sky diving.” Everyone laughed. “OK, he looks good. Now, Peter, let’s have you get to his mouth hole as Kenny holds his head up. You fuck his throat. So go ahead and fuck him good, and don’t stop. Pete didn’t disappoint. His dick was always stiff when he first entered my mouth. But the fuck felt good.

What was awkward was how the guys at my feet were lifting and spreading my legs. What was that all about? But my focus was on my mouth work.

“Ok, Jeromy, you get his ass first.” No lube. Just shove it in and begin thrusting. I was being fucked at both ends. I felt why my legs were lifted. It helped spread my hole and created additional erotic sensations for me. I still only counted 7 guys in me. Where was the eight?

OK, great, I want you fuckers to cum whenever you want. OK, someone is missing, Philip. Yes,, there you are, now Phil, you get under the table and suck my boy’s dick as it hangs down over the table edge.”

Oh fuck! I was being physically pulled in all directions, ass fucked, and throat fucked. My own dick was in a wonderful wet mouth with a teasing tongue massaging it like crazy. I just wanted to shoot my load. Yes, as soon as I could.

“Phil, as you know, my boy is not allowed climax. You can just edge him to death.” All the guys who watched the action laughed and cheered.

Then, a load was shot into my ass and a load in my throat. I was glad it went quickly. This was heavy-duty gang-banging.

“Great job, all eight of you., Now, each one shifts one position to the left.”


We were halfway through. I was a mess. I was blabbering, “Please, may I come now?” I said to whoever was sucking, no, teasing my dick. I was all boned up and bobbing. If each sucker was not careful, I’d shoot my load. But climaxing would not be possible because they were all sadistic experts. I mean, each knew how to tease my dick, and some used their finger, and some pumped my dick, not no one – NO ONE – let me shoot. I had four loads up my ass and four down my throat. Cum was seeping out of me at both ends. “Please let me cum, please. Please… please.” No one heard me, or if they did, no one cared.

I lost count, track, awareness, and ability to control anything. THEN, I heard it was round number eight. The final round. I had a sense of relief. I didn’t hurt, and I didn’t feel pain. My dick was begging as it jerked, twitched, bobbed, and spit up spurts of pre-cum, and no one cared.

Everyone shifted to the left one last time. The man holding my head up now decided to hold it up by my ears, and as with the others, my jaw dropped open, and the guy inserting my dick had a straight shot into my throat. My arms were pulled tighter, but each side balanced against the other, so they were pulling against each other, not me. As always, my legs were held up and way apart. It felt like I was flying. And the fellow who entered my asshole was the biggest, but it went in smoothly since there was so much cum being injected in me and a lot flowing out. I was just there. Just think, a dead body and huge manly toy for all these men to enjoy without any care or concern for me, And I knew that. It was their right, my purpose, and in that sense, it felt good. They were all so happy and excited. I fucking did my job. As for my dick, I knew they would like me to shoot when this last round was done. I think I’d go home with Master and sleep for a week. I am so lucky!

Then they finished, and the last of the men climaxed. I had eight loads up my ass and eight loads down my throat. I did it. I made them all happy, especially my Master.

As they all released my body. I was surprised no one allowed me to climax. Then I heard Master call out, “Well done. All eight of you were spectacular. You may all have a seat and rest. Job well done. You deserve a rest.”

“What about your slave boy, Mike? Should Mr. Wyatt take a break?” someone joked.

“You must be shitting me. Little Mikie has been lazy. So, fucking lazy to just lay there while your eight men have been doing all the work, pleasing him no end.” Everyone laughed.

“Now, speaking ‘no end,’ let’s have the next eight guys get their fun. Please step forward. Take whichever position you want to start at. But don’t worry, you'll get to rotate to all the other seven positions.”

A switch clicked, and my entire body was trembling and vibrating. I mumbled gibberish and drooled out the side of my plugged-up mouth hole, around whosever dick was filling it. My own dick disowned me. It was shaking and dancing all on its own. In the background, I continued to hear echoes of laughter. I had no arms or legs. I wanted to choke on the dicks in my mouth, but I had no reflexes to do that. My eyes were open, but I could not see any detail, just a blur of naked flesh. My mind was filled with images of giant dicks poking me everywhere. I blacked out.

I woke up in a daze. I know we arrived at 3 in the afternoon, and the clock on the wall showed it was after 1 AM. Wow, I must have slept for hours. Master and I were still in the back room, but all his friends were gone. So, it was Just us. I was so afraid to ask, to say anything,” Master? I’m so sorry I passed out. Please forgive me.” I wonder if he was cutting me loose because I did not meet his expectations. I failed his test. He looked sternly at me. Then I noticed a sharp pain in my dick. I instinctively reached down and was surprised to touch a metal ring at the tip of it. I now had a painful Prince Albert. “What?”

“Master, I am so fucking sorry I passed out. I am a weak fucking cunt. Please don’t abandon me, sir. Please. I am so ashamed to fail you., I know I took 16 loads and, hopefully, 32 loads. And I could not stay awake. I am so, so sorry, sir. What a fucking stupid whore I am... I am so disgusted with my poor performance. I know I disgraced you and in front of all your friends! I embarrassed you, and I… I…” I just broke down and sobbed, knowing I lost the most important man in my life. I lost my purpose. I just became nothing.

“Boy, stop crying,” He placed his hand on my head and petted me. “I am pleased with you. You more than met my expectations.”

What wonderful words! I started to sob. I was so happy. “Thank you, Master,” and I hugged his booted feet. Again, I felt a sharp jolt of pain shoot through my tender dick, “What?”

“Don’t worry, it’ll heal soon. But right now…” Master unclipped the leash from the collar around my neck and attached it to the ring in my dick. “I know it’s painful now, but your pain makes me happy.”

I looked up at him, and he tugged the leash gently, and I quickly rose to my feet. There I was, naked except for my leather collar and the ring in my dick tip. “Follow me to the car. You are now mind. I own you.” And out onto the late-night street, he walked me back to the car. When we arrived with me naked on a leash in public, I was embarrassed and, yes, ashamed. Now, leaving naked and on a leash, I held my head up high. I was so proud to be on Master’s leash. I was so happy. I was so happy and proud.

The End

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