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Review This Story || Author: 2nn

Jamie is taken.

Part 1

Jamie is taken.

By 2NN

This story deals with homosexuality, extreme BDSM and snuff, so if you

are a minor or get offended by such reading, go elsewhere now.

Chapter 1

Jamie loved his job. Not only did he enjoy the job itself, but

it also provided him with outstanding opportunities when it came to

getting laid. Jamie was 21 years old and had moved to the city eighteen

months before. Not long after he had gotten the job, working as a sales

clerk and tailor's assistant at "Huber & Worthington", which was beyond

a shadow of a doubt the most exclusive tailor in town. The "standard"

rack suits were all made by exclusive designers and the custom made

suits routinely cost a small fortune. Jamie was one of four sales clerks

all chosen for their manners, taste in clothes and good looks. They were

all young men and all impeccably dressed.

Jamie had moved away from the suburbs he had grown up in and moved to

the city were he could finally jump out of the closet. Being openly gay

in his hometown would have been difficult, but in the city few cared.

Working at such an exclusive store provided him with the perfect

opportunity to meet the kind of man he personally favored; the

distinguished and often outrageously wealthy middle-aged man. Flirting

with the customers in a manner so discrete that only men who were

looking for a bit of action picked it up had become his specialty.

Smiling just so while discretely touching the customer in the right

place as he measured his chest or thigh had gotten him laid countless

times. Once he had even managed to get a date with customer while the

customer's wife sat three feet away watching her husband getting

measured for a new suit.

Jamie was a slight young man with small, delicate features as well as

small, but well proportioned hands and feet. He stood five feet five

inches in his shoes and had black hair, brown eyes and tanned skin and

an exceedingly fine complexion.

Jamie had a thing for men that were older than himself and who were in

control. Going down on a man who radiated power or being taken from

behind by someone who was obviously in control were great turn-ons for

Jamie. Apart from the sex, the men he picked up were also often quite

generous and he often received very expensive gifts in return for his

favors. He didn't really have any friends and his partners all insisted

on absolute discretion so Jamie didn't really have anyone close to him

in the city, but with a great job resulting in great sex and extra cash

he didn't really care.

He was standing in front of the counter on a Thursday morning when the

man entered. The man was six feet seven inches with a deep, muscular

chest and very large hands, impeccably manicured. His stylishly short

hair was black with a sprinkling of grey and his jaw was square,

together with his piercing black eyes lending him a look of raw,

undiluted power. His suit had probably cost more than Jamie made in a

year and the price tag on his handmade shoes was easily enough for a
luxury sedan. His watch was of the kind usually reserved for presidents

and kings. He was clearly a man of wealth and influence.

Jamie was the closest and as soon as the man had walked in the door he

had sauntered over to him and after letting the man take in the store he

asked him: "May I be of service Sir?" The man turned his gaze to Jamie

letting his eyes take all of the young clerk in. From the moment he

turned towards Jamie, his complete attention was focused on him, his

gaze wandering up and down Jamie before settling on his face as he

looked Jamie straight in the eye. Just before he spoke a fleeting look

of predatory amusement flickered across his handsome face: "You

certainly may." The tone alone was enough to send a shiver down Jamie's

spine. The man continued looking him straight in the eye as he

continued: "I'm looking for a new suit, something casual but stylish.

Will you be able to provide the service I require, Mr. �?" His mouth a

little dry from the man's directness, Jamie haltingly replied: "C�, C�,

Collins, Jamie Collins, Sir." A smile spread across the man's face. It

was at the same time subtle and very predatory and he used the

opportunity to move a step closer to Jamie, thereby filling up his

entire field of vision. It would have been impolite of Jamie to step

back even if the man's dominating presence this close was making him

feel more than a little uncomfortable. Uncomfortable and aroused.

Usually his flirts were very offhand, a game between gentlemen where the

arousal, the open sexuality of the situation often came quite late in

the game after polite sparring and an extended exchange of subtle

remarks. Not so this time. The man radiated control and to his surprise

the man's presence made Jamie hard.

A quick glance down told Jamie that the man had already noticed and as
his smile became broader. Jamie wanted to run and hide. The man,

however, continued undeterred: "I'll just call you Jamie then." This was

if not unheard of, then at least very unusual. Normally the customers

addressed the clerks by their last names, preserving a polite distance

between them. "Of course Sir," Jamie answered, regaining some of his

composure. "And how may I address you Sir?" he continued. ""Sir" is

appropriate, I think," the man replied unfazed, again throwing Jamie off

balance. "Off course Sir," he managed to reply.

With that the man started outlining which kind of suit he wanted to buy,

suddenly seeming completely uninterested in Jamie. Quickly regaining his

composure, again, Jamie extracted the necessary information from the man

and soon he was escorting him to one of the store's spacious rooms for

trying out clothes and taking measurements for the new suits. Unlike

less exclusive stores, the rooms at "Huber & Worthington" were all

large, furnished with expensive chairs and couches and hidden behind

solid oaken doors, not flimsy curtains.

At first the man tried out several standard suits with a variety of

shirts and ties. It took quite some time, which was normal for the

customers at the store, but the man showed no signs of impatience. He

didn't come on to Jamie either, which was both disappointing and a

relief. After almost an hour Jamie took all the necessary measurements

required for a new suit and agreed with the man on a price and delivery

date. With that all he needed was the man's name and their business

would be concluded, at least for now. But before he could ask the final

question the man again turned his high powered gaze to Jamie and said:

"It's time you provided proper service Jamie." Jamie looked up

uncomprehending. What could he possibly be talking about? He was just

about to ask when the man cut him short: "Get on your knees and provide
proper service, Jamie." Jamie was dumbfounded. It was impossible. The

man had just asked him, no ordered him, to blow him. He opened his mouth

object. This was not the way things were done at "Huber & Worthington".

Before he could utter a single word a vicious slap landed on his left

cheek. It nearly knocked him over and as he felt the man's fingers close

around his throat he began to get very afraid: "I shall not ask you

again," the man said in perfectly reasoned tones: "Get on your knees and

provide me with real service."

There were no real options Jamie could think of and when the man let go

he quickly dropped to his knees and began fumbling with the man's

zipper. He finally managed to extract the man's member and when he held

it in his hands he gasped. It was huge! More like a small pole or stake

than a cock and as he tentatively opened his mouth he wondered if he

would even be able to take it. He was able to take all of it as it

turned out and soon he was sucking on the man's big, fat cock much too

eagerly to claim coercion in any real sense of the word.

Jamie had to admit that the man's raw power and control turned him on.

After less than a minute of sucking the man said: "Pull your trousers

down." Jamie hesitated only for split second, but by the time the man

had grabbed the back of his head entirely too firmly, Jamie's trousers

were down around his knees. "Underpants too, you idiot," the man scolded

him. Jamie had wanted to avoid this as it became much too obvious that

the situation aroused him. His cock was much too stiff and the man

remarked: "Just as I thought. You are a submissive little shit aren't

you?"

Jamie knew that he was submissive, but still the remark stung somehow.
Sure, some of his lovers had tied him up and he was certainly aroused at

being controlled by another, but it had mostly been discrete and

unspoken control, playful and somehow harmless. (A single incident where

he had been bound in rubber and whipped mercilessly before being screwed

loomed large in the back of Jamie's mind before he pushed the image

aside. Surely he didn't really think that the brutality of that

particular fuck had really been that great, did he?) As the man

commanded Jamie to put his hands behind his head and Jamie complied in

an instant, Jamie understood that this was something else, something

that was not playful or harmless. This man was the real deal, a man who

controlled him in a much, much more serious way than anyone had ever

done before.

Presently the man began fucking Jamie's face in earnest, moving his

member so far in that it blocked Jamie's breath and set off his gag

reflex as it pressed against his throat. The man didn't stop there.

Grabbing Jamie's head with both hands, he began forcing the tip of his

monster cock into Jamie's throat setting off involuntary convulsions in

his victim. "You're going to have to work on that, you little creep. If

you're not deep-throating me within two weeks you're going to be sorry."

Two weeks? The man intended to keep this up, intended to continue to use

Jamie beyond this? Jamie almost choked on the man's cock as it once

again pressed down his throat. Soon, however, he had other things on his

mind as the man came, shooting a river of cum into his mouth. The flood

was too great for him to keep up with and a small stream of cum ran down

his chin and dripped onto his shirt. The man cursed him for being such a

useless clown and Jamie was mortified, thinking of how he was going to

explain that stain to the others at the store. He was just about to move

his head away when the man ordered him to keep up the sucking until he

got hard again. This got Jamie thinking about what the man wanted to do
to him next. The possibilities were endless and at the moment all seemed

frightening and arousing as well.

He didn't have much time to think about it though. Extracting his now

stiff cock from Jamie's mouth, he stood him up, turned Jamie around and

proceeded to tie his arms behind his back with an eight hundred dollar

tie. He then placed him kneeling on the couch. Without warning he

pressed his giant dick against Jamie's asshole. As the huge cock parted

his cheeks and began the job of opening up Jamie, the man said: "You'd

better loosen up or I'll beat you open, you worthless, little shit."

Swallowing hard Jamie tried to relax and soon he felt how the man's tool

moved inside him. It was much too big and the pain was terrible. Jamie

opened his mouth to scream but before a single word came from his mouth,

a superb tie made from yellow silk, the most expensive in the whole

place, looped around his throat and was tightened mercilessly. The

expensive silk tie didn't cut his breath of completely, but it reduced

it to a feeble rasping, just barely keeping Jamie conscious. As the

man's cock continued its relentless and extremely painful way up his

ass, Jamie found to his great surprise that the choking sensation was

intensely arousing. The feeling of being fucked and choked made his cock

throb with need and just when he thought how nice it would be to be able

to masturbate, he felt the man's free hand close around his cock. A

spasm of pure joy seized him as the man began stroking him.

Jamie began to find the rhythm, moving with the man's strokes, both

those in his ass and those provided to his cock. It was fantastic. He

couldn't believe he hadn't tried this before. He had always discounted

the stories about breathplay as ramblings from sick perverts, but now he

had to admit that the turn-on was amazing. Just then he caught his
reflection in the mirror. A small, well-dressed young man, his face red

and swollen and his tongue hanging out, being fucked by a dominant older

man. The scene was just too sexy and Jamie began to move his hips

frantically, his arms working to get free as he gasped for air, the

rapidly approaching orgasm filling up his entire being. Then, as he

moved unstoppably towards his climax, the silk tie around his neck was

tightened further, cutting off his breath altogether.

He panicked. He jerked and thrashed, trying desperately to get free, not

even succeeding in moving a fraction of an inch of the man's cock out

his ass. His panic also fuelled his lust and as his vision began to fade

he felt the man shoot his load up his ass while he shot his own on a

monstrously expensive shirt lying on the couch, his whole body arched in

pleasure as every fiber of his body was saturated with the enormity of

orgasm. It was easily the best orgasm of his life and as the aftershocks

hit him it also became the most frightening. He still couldn't breathe

and as his body spasmed with the remains of his orgasm, his vision began

to fade and his struggles became weaker. As the last aftershock flowed

over him, he felt himself becoming limp, loosing consciousness.

He woke up coughing and retching, lying on the floor as the man,

towering above him, zipped his pants and straightened his tie. He bent

down over the terrified young man and lifted him up by the tie still

encircling his neck. As pathetic whine escaped Jamie as he was brought

face to face with the man. "Get dressed", he told Jamie and then let go

of the tie. Shaking Jamie complied and when he had done so the man

informed him of what would happen next: "You fainted while taking

measurements for my suit and since you're feeling poorly you'll have to

take the rest of the day off." Catching a glimpse of himself in a mirror

Jamie didn't think it would be a problem convincing the manager that he

was indeed a little sick. Putting not too fine a point on it, Jamie

looked like shit, a flushed and feverish look on his face, his eyes

bloodshot. His clothes naturally looked more than a little rumpled, like

they would if he had fallen down.

Meanwhile the man continued: "From the time I leave the store you'll

have fifteen minutes to make it to my car. I'll be parked at the corner

of Union and Seventeenth." Jamie was shocked. The man wanted more from

him already? Shocking as it was, what the man said next shocked Jamie

even more: "I know where you live, Jamie Collins, and if you don't meet

me at my car I shall be forced to come and get you. This would make me

very mad indeed. And believe me Jamie; you don't want to see me mad."

Jamie believed the man and he nodded soundlessly as the man tossed

Jamie's own wallet to him.

As he threw away the shirt he had cum on and felt how the man grabbed

him by the arm, "supporting" him out of the room, Jamie felt completely

trapped. He felt that going along with the man would be extremely

dangerous as well as arousing, but the alternative was to call the cops.

Jamie had no illusions as to whom they would believe. The man would

probably smile overbearingly as he walked free, mad as hell and ready to

hunt Jamie down. Shivering Jamie decided that it was better to go along

with the man's wishes and try to figure out a solution along the way.

The manager, when faced with Jamie's sickly face and the man's dramatic

story of how Jamie had suffered convulsions before fainting, quickly

told Jamie to go see a doctor. He also told Jamie that he didn't have to

come in the next day and since it wasn't Jamie's turn to work Saturday,

this meant that it was now weekend. Seeing the man's back disappear out
the door and knowing that he had fifteen minutes to catch up, he wasn't

sure that the long weekend was a good thing.

Chapter 2

Five minutes after the man had walked out of the store Jamie

followed. He now had ten minutes to make it to the corner, which was

definitely not a lot of time. Not only did he have to walk fast, but the

last two blocks he had to run all out. Standing at the corner of Union

and Seventeenth, trying to catch his breath, he scouted for the man's

car as a truly enormous limousine pulled beside him. Jamie wasn't the

least bit surprised when the door opened and he heard the man's voice

come from the car, telling him to get in. Of course a man like that

would drive a huge limo. What else could he drive?

Getting in Jamie saw the man sitting in at the far end of the limousine.

He was looking at Jamie with the lazy interest that the well-fed

predator regards easy prey with and Jamie almost whimpered out loud when

he saw the look the man was giving him. Looking around Jamie was

suddenly very unsure of what to do. Where should he sit? How should he

address the man? The first question was answered at once as the man

drawled: "The floor, you little shit. I don't want filthy fucktoys

dirtying up my seats." Jamie wanted to object to this description of

himself, but nonetheless he found himself obediently sitting down on the

floor. No sooner had he sat down than the first vicious blow landed on

the side of his head: "What's that boy? I didn't quite hear you," the

man hissed at him. Confused Jamie tried to respond: "I'm sorry, I�" He

didn't get any further as another blow landed on the side of his head.

"Try again, slave. Try hard this time." As Jamie heard the last words

from the man, he suddenly understood what was expected of him. Not only

that, but he also understood where this was going and it filled him with
fear. The vast, and for him uncharted, territory of sexual slavery lay

before him, calling out to him. One of the reasons he had always gone

with older, dominant men, but had never tried actual S&M games (except

for that wonderful beating he had taken, sealed in rubber) was because

he knew that although he was submissive at heart, he also suspected that

he could get hurt very badly in that game. And although submissive Jamie

prided himself with being smart of able to take care of himself; to

avoid injury. Fooling around with older men who took charge was a safe

outlet for his submissive tendencies; a way of feeling the heat without

getting burned.

But it was too late for all of that now. The arrival of the man and his

direct and uncompromising approach had ruined all of Jamie's plans for a

safe and quiet life. The only question that now remained was whether

Jamie would ever be able to go back to playing vanilla games with his

customers. He feared that that time had passed the instant the man had

forced him to his knees back at the store. He had to go along until he

figured out a way to escape. Even if it was arousing it was also quite

clear that the man would love to hurt him; the worse, the better.

But at least he knew what to say: "Master, please Master," he said

keeping both his head and his voice down, "Master, I'm sorry Master."

The man's voice came from above his head: "Better, boy. Much better."

Jamie felt an absurd sense of pride in the man's severely limited praise

and when the man told him to get undressed, he did so without

hesitation. He had never been so afraid in his entire life. Nor so

aroused.

Soon he was kneeling in front of the man, naked on the floor of a huge
limousine stuck in traffic in the center of town. "Well slave," the man

drawled, "let's find out if you are any good at all." He then handed

Jamie a tall glass and said: "We'll resume your lessons so that you may

one day perhaps become an acceptable little suck boy. While you blow me

you will masturbate. Be sure that all of your filthy cum is collected in

that glass. Do not stop for even an instant until I tell you to do so.

Now get to it." Jamie then dared to look up at the man's giant cock.

Above it the man looked at him with a distinctly predatory look in his

eyes.

For the next hour and a half Jamie sat on the floor of the limousine,

hidden from the eyes of the other motorists and the pedestrians on the

sidewalk by only a single pane of darkened glass. The naked slave boy

knelt on the floor in front of his master, never talking his lips off

his master's cock and not even once slowing down his frantic

masturbation. Master insisted on eye contact when he was being blown and

having the man look him in the eye constantly while he sucked his cock

produced a truly intense feeling of being dominated in Jamie. This

feeling of intense inferiority, intensely aroused inferiority, combined

with the hailstorm of orgasms he experienced as he masturbated with a

fervor that made his arms and hands burn with the effort, was

overwhelming. Jamie knew he had to escape the man soon if he wanted to

avoid real harm, but the sheer number of orgasms he had experienced

while servicing the man could not help but induce loving feelings for

the man. Jamie balanced between his fear and his arousal.

Finally the limousine arrived at their destination. The man grabbed

Jamie's head one last time as he came yet again and then pulled back,

ordering Jamie to stop his pathetic masturbation. His face burning with

shame Jamie let go of his extremely tender cock and sat back. In his
right hand he held the glass that the man had given him at the beginning

of the trip. It was now full, almost flowing over with his own cum.

"Drink it boy. I know that little cum sluts like you love that tasty

drink." The command made Jamie's face burn even more with shame and
=====================================

produced yet another erection in his oh-so raw and tender cock. Jamie

didn't really want to drink a glass full of is own cum, but the man's

eyes were on him and he had to obey. As he swallowed the stale and half

congealed cum he looked the man in the eye and tried to smile. He knew

it was wrong and that it proved that he was a slave, but he had to obey.

In the back of his mind a stray thought marveled at the fact that it was

less than three hours since he had first met the man.

When Jamie had finished his disgusting and demeaning drink the man gave

him three small presents. The first was a narrow leather collar, locked

on to his neck. A leash was permanently attached to the collar and at

first it just hung down Jamie's front. The second present was a pair of

steel handcuffs, which the man used to secure Jamie's hands behind his

back. He was none too gentle in securing them and soon Jamie's hands

began to swell and tingle. The third and final present was the most

surprising to Jamie and easily the most humiliating. It was a pair of

little, black boots, ankle high, made of shiny plastic and laced up the

front. But they weren't men's boots. They were pointy and had seven-inch

heels made of ultra thin metal; "fuck me"-boots. "Fuck me hard"-boots.

They were also at least one size too small and an involuntary whine

escaped Jamie as the man laced them onto his feet. He had no idea how

the man expected him to walk in them.

The thought must have been painted on his face, because the man grabbed

Jamie's chin and looked him straight into the eye: "I demand perfection,
slave. Perfection in everything you do." Jamie swallowed involuntarily

as the man continued: "You will put one foot directly in front of the

other so that your ass sways, telling the world what a slut you are.

Understood?" His face burning with shame Jamie replied: "Master, yes

Master." A cruel smile flicked across the man's face as he continued:

"Keep your legs straight and make sure that you heel hits the ground

first. Now get out you worthless cum hole!" With that the man pushed

Jamie out, holding him from behind. As soon as they were out of the car

the man grabbed the leash and led Jamie away from the limo, stumbling

along in his new footwear.

They were in a parking basement, but it was like no other parking

basement Jamie had ever been in. The walls were not bare concrete, but

covered with porcelain tiles with pleasant and discrete patterns and the

space was lit not by fluorescent lights, but by large lamps giving a

powerful, yet pleasant light. From hidden speakers muted classical music

flowed and not a single pipe was visible anywhere in the basement. The

cars were all luxury models, whether they were limousines, luxury sedans

or expensive sports cars.

Not that Jamie really had any time to take much of this in as he

stumbled along, struggling to do as the man had told him to and to keep

up. Soon they came to a door guarded by two very large men, both

impeccably dressed and both of whom obviously knew the man. Both

remarked that the man had once again managed to catch a fine looking

little slut. As Jamie was dragged past them, through the door he felt

their hands on his ass and heard one of the say: "I'll be seeing you

real soon boy� at the end of my cock." Jamie felt his face burning with

shame as the door closed behind him, both at the remark and at the fact
that a brief, but very arousing, image of himself being fucked by the

two bouncers had flashed through his mind before the remark had even

been uttered.

Inside they were met by two slave boys, one black and one white, who

instantly fell to the floor as they kissed the man's feet: "Welcome

Master van der Graf, we are honored to have the pleasure of your

company." The white slave boy was dressed in a full body suit made of

shiny black rubber covering him from his ankles to his toes, even

covering his hands and fingers. On his feet were very small, white

plastic boots with seven-inch heels. His neck, wrists and ankles were

encircled by broad steel shackles, but the shackles were as of yet not

connected to any chains. The black slave boy was dressed a polar

opposite outfit; shiny white rubber suit with black high heeled boots

and he was also wearing shackles. On the forehead of the black slave the

words "Hole #83" had been branded, whereas they read "Hole #315" on the

forehead of the white slave boy.

They continued worshipping the man's shoes until told to stop. "83," the

man said, "get me a private room. And make it snappy or I'll grind your

useless nuts to a fine powder." The black slave boy quickly scampered

off as the man moved further into the room with Jamie. Running with tiny

mincing steps, trying to move dignified without incurring the wrath of

the man and thus loosing his balls, number 83 quickly returned. Again he

dropped to his knees and delivered his message: "Master, may it please

Master, a private room is available for you. Master, may I be so

privileged as to show you to it?" With a grunt the man agreed to this

and shortly thereafter he dragged Jamie along after him as they followed

the seductively swaying ass of the black slave boy as he led deeper into

what was obviously a very exclusive club. A club for wealthy gentlemen
who liked to torture slave boys of various descriptions.

One of the first rooms they passed was a large open space. Along the

walls a huge array of instruments of torture, ropes, straps and chains

were lined up. The place was obviously meant for common recreational

activities. At the moment there were no spectators, but another master

was passing by with a number of slaves. On their elbows and knees were

four very large and muscular slaves. Their arms and legs had been folded

up and sealed inside black rubber pouches, forcing them to stand on

their elbows and knees. Their heads were sealed inside shiny, black

rubber bags open only at the mouth and nostrils. They had been arranged

in pairs, one directly behind the other. The one in front was gagged

with monstrous pump gag. The one behind had his rubber covered face

shoved in between the other slave's butt cheeks. Jamie couldn't see it,

but in his mouth he held a huge, solid steel bar. It went so far down

his throat that he was only able to breathe with the help of plastic

tubes running from his nostrils to his lungs and passing through a hole

in the steel bar. The other end on the bar was shoved up the ass of the

slave in front. A series of straps from his collar encircled the thighs

of the slave in front, insuring that he couldn't pull his face away from

the other slave's ass. The slaves in the back in turn had their asses

stuffed with huge steel dildos, so that they too were filled up.

Each slave had a tube covering their permanently erect cocks, providing

orders, punishment and pleasure. The tube had a sleeve, which could

pulsate gently to get them off. The same sleeve was lined with a steel

mesh so that electric shocks could be delivered to their cocks, both as

a way of telling them what to do and to punish them. Their heads were

always covered in rubber and the sleeve was the only way in which their
master communicated with them. Around their scrotums a wire had been

bound and from this wire a two pound weight dangled, almost touching the

ground.

The two pairs were arranged side by side, about a foot apart. On their

backs rested a platform made of very solid and very heavy timber. On the

platform stood what could only be described as a throne, a huge a wooden

chair, which looked very heavy indeed. What Jamie couldn't see was the

large array of lead batteries under the chair supplying power to drive

the sleeves around the slave cocks. On the chair their master sat, a

huge black man, both tall and muscular. He controlled the slaves via a

control panel in the armrest of the chair. He had spent nearly a year

training his current bunch of throne carrying slaves, but that had been

four and half years ago so he considered it time well spent.

As Jamie passed the chair, the occasional muffled, gurgling scream could

be heard from one of the slaves as he was being punished or allowed to

cum. After almost six years on their knees in total darkness and

complete silence, pleasure and pain were much the same. All that

mattered to them was obedience. Obedience and complete submission to the

man who controlled them so completely, a man none of them had seen or

heard in almost six years.

Jamie got a good look at the mercilessly controlled slaves before the

man dragged him out of the exhibition area of the club and into a

corridor lined with sturdy steel doors. About half had a key dangling

from the lock and all the rest were closed. Jamie guessed, correctly,

that the rooms behind doors without a key were occupied, while the ones

with a key were unused at the moment. Hole #83 led the man to one of the

door at the far end of the corridor, which opened into a frighteningly
well-equipped dungeon. Practically every available inch of wall space

and a very large portion of the space on the floor was filled up with

various implements for restricting mobility, sound, sight, hearing or

with instruments of torture. A desperate frightened whine escaped

Jamie's throat, a sound which only stopped when he saw the look that the

man cast in his direction. It told him that the sound had been a

transgression and that he would soon be punished for it.

For now, however, the man's attention fixed on hole #83. He knelt right

inside the door, awaiting the man's next command. The man kept him

waiting for a while longer as he tied Jamie's leash to a ring embedded

in the wall while he fetched something in a cupboard filled with items

that made Jamie's skin cold with fear. What he took out of it was

deceptively harmless looking - at least compared to many of the truly

fearsome instruments inside. He placed it in front of hole #83 and said

quite simply: "Prove your devotion, slave." As hole #83 saw the item in

front of him a terrified gasp escaped him before he managed to croak:

"Master, yes Master:" The man had placed a pincushion in front of the

poor slave and no one in the room, not even Jamie, had any doubts as to

where the needles would go. With trembling hands hole #83 picked up a

needle and hesitantly placed it against one of his rubber covered

testicles. Seemingly he wanted to believe that the man didn't really

want him to do it, because he looked imploringly up at the man as the

tips of the needle rested against the little rubber covered globe. His

expectation was of course entirely wrong. Instead of a pardon the words

coming out of the man's mouth were: "You may thank me after each needle.

Make sure that they are pushed as far in as possible." A short-lived

look of disbelief spread across hole #83' face before he realized that

hesitation would only make his situation worse. Then he pushed the
needle all the way into his testicle, a thin scream escaping him as it

slid in. "M�M�Master, tha..nk you Master," he stuttered as tears crept

into the corners of his eyes. Then he picked up the next needle and

pushed this into his other testicle, his scream a little louder this

time and his thank you a bit more rusty, if also a bit more determined.

Jamie was horrified. The poor slave boy pushed in one needle after

another as he continued to scream and continued to thank the man. When

half the pins in the cushion had been pushed in to his testicles, his

screaming was only interrupted by his increasingly unintelligible and

ever more gurgling thank-yous. When the pincushion was finally empty and

the slave's balls looked like a weird inverted hedgehog with two backs,

all that came out of him was a constant, hopeless keening. This

seemingly satisfied the man somewhat and he allowed hole # 83 to go with

two provisions: First that the needles remain in his balls until removed

by another master and secondly that he provide a small service. At the

mention of the latter hole #83 got a look of utter desperation on his

face. What more could the man possibly want from him. It turned out that

the man wanted hole #83 not to hurt himself, but Jamie instead.

While the order made hole #83 slightly less apprehensive, it made Jamie

scream with the anticipation of pain. What the man wanted hole #83 to do

was quite simple. Taking one testicle at a time he squeezed Jamie's

balls until Jamie fainted from the pain - which he only did after a

great deal of desperate screaming. He had wanted to flee from the

keening slave boy's outstretched, rubber-clad hands, but the man held

him by his neck and soon hole #83's hand closed around his right

testicle. Although the pain was unbelievable and mind-numbing, it took

forever before he fainted. And when he came to, hole #83 started on his

other testicle.
When Jamie came to the second time he was lying on the cold dungeon

floor. Hole #83 was gone and the man sat on a chair right in front of

him. Jamie's balls felt like they had swollen to twice their normal size

and they hurt unbelievably. Unnervingly a shiver of lust mingled with

extreme fear passed through him as he felt the pain and saw the man and

his member stirred. A cruel and condescending smile spread across the

man's face. Then he leaned forward and spoke, his voice calm and cool,

the very model of reason: "You are a slave now Jamie, whether you like

it or not. Since you belong to me, you might as well know my name. I am

Robert van der Graf, your owner." Jamie swallowed involuntarily and when

the man did not continue he was momentarily stumped. Then he realized

what was expected of him and said as humbly as he could: "Master, yes

Master," while bowing forward. Recognition was a long time coming, but

finally he heard the man, now Master Robert, say: "Late. Sloppy

execution. Lack of poise and respect. You are going to improve, boy."

The very tone made Jamie shiver with terror. The man was going to hurt

him badly. Jamie knew it and was unbelievably scared and to his own

surprise also aroused by his subjugation. "Boy," Master Robert

continued, "I have chosen you in part because you were asking for it.

You are too stupid and useless to realize yourself, but the second I saw

you, I saw what a useless little slave-shit you were and how you had

been waiting for someone to grab you." This time the man's pause only

lasted a few seconds before Jamie managed: "Master, yes Master." "In one

month your transition from your current profession as a well-clad whore

boy to full-time slave will be complete." Jamie shivered at the accuracy

of the man's description. After all that was what he was, wasn't it?

Just another whore, accepting payment for sex, even if he told himself

that he was only accepting gifts from lovers. Meanwhile Master

continued: "As I said, the transition will be complete in one month,

your job and apartment, all your acquaintances left behind. But only if

you are what I'm looking for." He lifted up Jamie's chin, looked him in

the eyes and said, in tones much harder than before: "This weekend will

be used to assess your willingness and quality of service. I require

absolute perfection and absolute sacrifice from my slaves. If you are

unwilling to do so I will discard you out of hand."

Jamie became desperate with fear as he heard the word "discard". It

could only mean one terrible and brutal thing in the current context and

Master proved that that was indeed the case. Yanking him to his feet he

dragged Jamie toward the center of the dungeon as he said: "If you do

not live up to my expectations I will discard you instantly, like this."

From the ceiling hung a thin rope with a noose at the end. Master pulled

the noose over Jamie's head and tightened the noose, but as he realized

what was happening, Jamie's time had already run out. The man pulled at

the other end of the rope and soon only the tips of his stilettos were

touching the cement floor as the noose pulled on his neck, reducing his

voice to rasping pleas. He could barely balance on his toes and his

pleas for mercy came out as nothing but gurgles. After watching Jamie

dancing around at the end of the rope for a few minutes, Master suddenly

pulled the rope again and Jamie now dangled from the rope in earnest,

his feet fighting to reach the floor only a couple of inches away, but

finding nothing. His breath now cut off completely, Jamie's struggles

became desperate and he twitched and spun at the end of his rope as his

vision gradually faded and the sounds of the world became faint.

Unbeknownst to himself his cock was rock hard and when Master touched it

he exploded in a fabulous orgasms, briefly increasing the intensity of

his struggling before his lost consciousness. His last thought was a

faint recognition that he was dying, almost completely drowned out by

the pleasure of the massive orgasm paralyzing his mind.

Jamie came to on the cold dungeon floor retching and coughing, his mind

paralyzed by a mixture of pleasure and panic. He had loved the orgasm he

had just experienced. His experience with breathplay was less than half

a day old and already he knew that he loved it almost as much as finally

submitting. Hence the panic. Loving something that would almost

certainly end up killing him was wrong and twisted, yet all Jamie could

think of as he slowly opened his eyes was that he wanted to try it

again. The man had him now. Jamie would not escape this and he suddenly

saw his own end clearly. With perfect clarity Jamie saw that he would

die at the hands of this man if he wasn't able escape soon.

Master was the first thing he saw as he opened his eyes. He face was

very close to Jamie's and an involuntary whimper, followed by a new

spate of coughing, escaped him as he saw him. "Dirty, little slut," the

man said in a low, menacing tone, "I knew you were a filthy pervert, a

disgusting little pig the moment I laid eyes on you. Maybe I should just

off you right now?" Before Jamie could answer him, beg him to live, the

man's hands closed around his throat and Jamie began struggling as the

man showed no signs of letting go. As he looked into Master's calm and

cruel eyes he felt himself grow weaker as his erection again grew

harder. Still the man kept on squeezing his throat and as Jamie's

struggling once again became erratic he exploded in yet another orgasm,

this time without even being touched.

Once again he came to in a haze of pleasure and panic, sobbing with the

realization of how lost he was. The man was going to kill him no matter

what; it was only a matter of time and the worst part of it was that he

was going to love it.

Presently the man stood up and kicked Jamie in the stomach - hard. Then

he kicked Jamie around until his head was where his ass had been minutes

ago. A pile of feces lay in a puddle of urine and with an enormous

feeling of hopelessness and disgust he realized that it was his own

waste, expelled as his bowels had given up. Now a command came from

Master, his voice booming down from above: "Clean up your disgusting

mess, you revolting little slave shit." Seeing no other options he heard

himself croak: "Master, yes Master. Master, at once Master." Then he

began eating his own waste. It was every bit as disgusting as he had

imagined, but he knew he had to do it. And not only because Master would

probably kill him if he didn't, but also because he felt that he in a

strange way had to prove his worth to the man.

When he had finally licked the floor clean of his own waste, Jamie lay

on the floor fighting to keep his disgusting meal down. Without a sound

Master's hand grabbed him by the hair and dragged Jamie, now completely

limp with emotional exhaustion and submission, to the corner of the

dungeon where there was a large washbasin made of stainless steel. Still

not speaking and clearly expecting nothing but docile obedience from

Jamie, Master washed his mouth with industrial strength soap. The taste

was truly horrible and burned his mouth, but Jamie was grateful for it.

Anything to rid him of the taste of shit.

When he had finished washing Jamie's disgusting mouth, Master led Jamie

to the opposite corner of the dungeon, to an arrangement of posts

embedded in the floor. "Since you are my property," Master began, "I

know that you love being tortured by me, that you love everything I do

to you, no matter how painful or degrading." The tone of Master's voice

alerted Jamie, already beginning to be in tune with his owner's demands,

and he knew what was expected of him: "Master, yes Master," he whispered

in terror, keeping his eyes down for fear of looking Master in the eye.

This was clearly not good enough for Master. He grabbed Jamie's chin

forcefully, brought his face close to Jamie's and shouted: "Useless

shit! Since you love everything I do to you, you will reply with

enthusiasm!" After first whimpering with fear Jamie managed to repeat

his reply, but this time with a greater degree of enthusiasm. Master

looked with disgust at his new slave boy and grunted: "Slightly better,

but you'll still be punished for your insolence." Then he unlocked

Jamie's handcuffs only to tie his elbows together, making them meet

painfully on Jamie's back. Pushing on Jamie's chest he then backed him

up against one of the posts, a sturdy wooden thing rising seven feet out

of the floor. Right in front of it stood a smaller post, about two and a

half feet high. At the end of it was a huge steel dildo and Jamie had no

illusions as to where it would go. On either side of it at a distance of

about two feet, even smaller posts rose out of the floor. These were

very solid looking and had shackles attached to their sides.

Master now lubed up the dildo and then pushed Jamie down until the dildo

pressed against his asshole. A warning look from the man told him to

relax his sphincter and with a gasp of pain and surprise at the size of

the thing, he slid down on it, feeling it filling him up in a way that

was both pleasant and most humiliating. Embarrassingly his cock was

again hard and needy and the intense humiliation of being exposed as the

slave boy he was did nothing to diminish his arousal. To make sure that

Jamie remained in place, Master secured his ankles in the shackles

attached to the two small poles. The effect was to spread Jamie's legs

as wide as they would go to either side and since he had to keep the

dildo inside his ass, he had to squat too. This was not a position Jamie
would be able to hold for long as his legs began to hurt from the

strained position (not to speak of his feet, trapped in small, sexy

stilettos bearing all of his weight). Soon he would have to stand up to

relieve the burden, but of course this was not part of Master's plan. To

insure that Jamie remained squatting, his legs spread wide, Master tied

a steel wire around Jamie's scrotum. The other end of this wire was then

secured to a ring embedded in the cement floor directly under his

crotch. Naturally Master made sure that the wire was taut and that any

attempts from Jamie's side at getting up would result in an unbearable

strain on his scrotum, if not in an outright castration.

When Jamie realized his predicament and his legs began to tire, he felt

a wave of desperation flowing over him. He was helpless, trapped in a

painful and humiliating situation. A small part of him liked the

submission, but a larger, more sensible part knew that this might very

well be the beginning of the end for him. The man who now owned him,

Master, would most probably torture him horribly and in time end up

killing him. But the prospect of dangling at the end of Master's rope,

his feet twitching as he came one last time not only scared him worse

than anything had ever done before. It made him hopelessly horny. The

realization was intensely humiliating and terrifying.

For now, however, he had to find a way of relieving the strain on his

thighs. Since standing up was not an option, Jamie had to squat further

down. This meant that the dildo would be pushed dangerously far up his

insides, but Jamie was perfectly willing to take the risk, especially

since it actually felt good being filled up, something that made him

whimper with humiliation.

Master, however, had already seen this coming and would have none of it.
Working quickly, he looped a noose of thin leather around Jamie's neck

and tied it off to a peg on the other side of the post. If Jamie

squatted further down he would now slowly strangle himself. He was

trapped. He knew he couldn't hold his current position, it was simply

too strenuous, but if he tried to rise he risked castrating himself and

if he slid down the pole (something that felt entirely too good) he

would be strangled. The fact that the situation had resulted in a

throbbing erection on his part did not improve matters.

Jamie's position was already very painful, but of course Master did not

consider it nearly painful enough. First he strapped Jamie upper body

very tightly to the post, securing him to it, while making sure that he

still had to work at maintaining his strenuous squat. This trapped his

already bound elbows behind him so that they pressed into his back most

uncomfortably. This also meant that his arms and hands were pointing

aimlessly out to the sides. Master fixed this by connecting them with a

steel rod with shackles at each end. This in turn meant that Jamie now

held his hands a foot apart in front of his chest. Then Master tied a

string around each of Jamie's fingers at the first joint from the tip.

Then he pulled all the strings as far back as they could go without

actually breaking Jamie's fingers, tying then together behind the post

and thereby putting a terrible and permanent strain on them. To make

sure that Jamie couldn't just move his hands up or down to relieve the

strain, Master secured the rod connecting his hands to both the floor

and to Jamie's collar, so that Jamie had to hold his hands in the same

place in front of his body.

Master had one more thing to do to Jamie. He applied oversized alligator

clamps to Jamie's balls, cock and nipples, reducing the already

suffering slave boy to gurgling screams of desperation. The pressure on

his balls especially was horrendous and Jamie was afraid that he would

pass out from the pain. Master then applied the final touch as he

connected the alligator clamps to an electric generator, which in turn

applied electric pulses to Jamie's balls, cock and nipples at completely

random intervals. Displaying terrifying attention to detail Master

rigged a wire to the steel dildo in Jamie's ass. The electric shocks

sent Jamie into a state of panic as his whole being was being engulfed

by the terrible pain in his genitals, ass and nipples. He couldn't even

scream properly as his throat was continually being constricted by the

awful noose around it. He was completely trapped in the most

uncomfortable and painful position he had ever experienced.

As he squatted there, trying to scream, keep from tearing his balls off

and prevent strangulation Master pushed two rubber wedges in between his

teeth, preventing him from closing his mouth. Then he took out his cock

and began fucking Jamie's face. Jamie tried to use his tongue to try and

please Master so that he might be let off the hook, but the continuous

electric shocks made even his tongue spasm and all that happened was

that Master's cock pumped in and out of his face without any coordinated

licking on his part. After a good long fuck he shot his load, filling up

his slave's face with jism, but Jamie had to work long and hard to

swallow as it was nearly impossible to swallow constricted as his throat

was.

While Jamie sat there trying to swallow Master left the room. Now in

addition to the pain and the humiliation Jamie had to contend with the

fact that there was now no one to rescue him if he lost consciousness.

If he did he would surely be strangled and thus Jamie's entire energy

was redirected to maintaining his painful squat. He even forgot to

swallow (not that he was really able to get the cum past the noose) and

he now sat gurgling and twitching with jism running down his chin.

Master was perfectly aware that there was a good chance that Jamie would

not survive for any length of time in his current position. After all

Master had lost a fair number of potential slaves in similar positions

over the years. Nonetheless he thought the test was a good one, since

there was no fun in having a slave that gave up too quickly. Master's

slaves had to have a measure of stamina so that he could torture them

for considerable lengths of time. If Jamie could survive five hours in

his current position he was probably tough enough to provide the proper

amount of sport for his Master. If not - too bad. Jamie was after all

just property.

In the meantime Master thought he would go find hole #83. The little

black, rubber slave reminded him of his first real catch back in high

school. He still remembered the feeling of fucking the little bound

shit, of closing his hands around his neck and feeling his panicky

spasms as his life was squeezed out of along with his orgasm. He hadn't

actually killed the little shit, not then at least, but he had come

close several times during high school. The result had been that the

slave boy had been forced to drop out and become Master's fulltime

slave, completely cowed by Master. He hadn't really been a natural

submissive, but he had been beaten and tortured into the role as the

first of many. He had lasted until Master's fist month of college when

Master had pulled a plastic bag over his head and secured it at the neck

so that he could enjoy his struggles as he fucked him. Conditioned as he

was, the slave had shot his load just before his spasms stopped and his

facial expression behind the clear plastic bag, so much of it sucked so

far down his throat that it looked painted on, was a mixture of pleasure

and terror now frozen in place.

Master didn't have the same plans for hole #83, but he did think it

would be fun to beat his already damaged balls until a castration was

necessary. The manager of the club had mentioned something about a

request for a black sissy and hole #83 liberated of his balls could then

appropriately be equipped with a pair of massive tits and sold off. Fun

and profit at the same time.

After more than 5 hours in the extremely strenuous position, being

constantly subjected to electrical shocks, Jamie was almost ready to

give up. In spite of the shocks to his cock and balls his erection

refused to die down. He was as needy as ever, humiliated by the fact

that he found the torture strangely arousing. He still felt the need to

escape, but was confused as to why he found his position so arousing.

As Jamie thought this, Master came back into the room with a wicked

smile on his face. Had Jamie known that Master had just removed hole

#83's balls to the jubilation of the crowd in the main room of the club,

he might have been less pleased to see him, but probably not. His legs

were almost ready to give in and he felt that he was minutes away from

death by strangulation as his legs were probably too tired for him to

stand up and thereby escape, albeit without his balls.

As it was the pathetic slave boy gurgled with delight at seeing his

cruel Master. Master, however, did not set him free at once, but

proceeded to fuck his face. When this was done he released Jamie from

his bindings. After screaming with pain as blood returned to the parts

of his anatomy which had been cut off, Jamie collapsed on the floor.
But rest was not what Master had in mind. The night's sport was just

getting started at the club and Master thought that Jamie was in a

perfect position to learn a few things. Leaving Jamie unbound except for

his leash, he dragged his slave boy from the dungeon room and into the

main exhibition room/sport room. A large crowd was watching a whipping

contest between two masters. A bet was on as to which of their

respective slaves could take the most brutal beating. The slaves were

two boys in their mid-twenties and both hung down from the ceiling by

their wrists and both had had their legs tied wide to rings in the floor

so they could not spin away from the whips. The masters used bullwhips

and their strokes were synchronized so that each slave received the same

amount of strokes at the same time. The slaves were well past screaming

and their bodies were completely covered with angry red welts. As Jamie

watched in horror one of them finally lost consciousness, much to the

chagrin of his owner who had to pay up. As the slaves were taken down,

the winner thanking his owner profusely, Jamie had no doubt that the

looser would pay a heavy price for his disobedience.

Now the crowd lacked entertainment and so Master stepped onto center

stage, immediately grabbing everyone's attention: "Gentlemen," he

started, "I must ask you all a favor." This got the attention of the

crowd who knew Robert van der Graf as the most brutal of masters. "I

have just today acquired this useless, little slave shit and as such he

is in dire need of training, specifically sex training. I would be most

grateful I you could teach him a trick or two, the more brutal, the

better." Then he turned to Jamie with a sneer and whispered to him:

"Obey every command instantly and gratefully. Disappoint me and I'll

have your useless balls before the night is out."

With that he left Jamie standing very, very humiliated in the center of

the room with a crowd of brutal perverts descending on him. Had it not

been for an unspoken agreement not to damage the property of other

masters, Jamie would probably have been fucked to death that night. For

most of it he tended to at least two cocks at a time, one in each end.

But while two cocks seemed to be the standard, he also handled four at a

time on several occasions; one in his mouth, one in his ass and one in

each hand. After an hour Jamie's body was sticky with cum and after four

hours of exhausting, humiliating, painful, and degrading gang-banging

Jamie's face had received so much cum that his eyelids had been glued

together, the drying cum acting as glue. His hair had stiffened into

spiky formations held up with dried jism and the masters had a hard time

gripping his hips as the cum continuously deposited there made Jamie

slippery.

Jamie's belly felt distended and overly full from all the semen he had

swallowed and a stream of it ran down the inside of his thighs. In

addition to the fucking and sucking and the instructions as to how best

to perform them, most of the masters started and ended their turn with

Jamie by punishing him in some way. Jamie's otherwise amazingly

persistent erection had literally been beaten down by the many brutal

blows to his balls, now at least three times their normal size. His skin

was covered with welts and Jamie was afraid that he would never be able

to walk normally again because of the strain on his knees during the

fuckings and the fact that all those cocks seemed to have widened him to

a point where closing his legs normally again seemed impossible.

Finally, as Thursday night gave way to Friday morning the masters had

had their fill and let Jamie drop to the floor. Exhausted, degraded and
now irrevocably enslaved, Jamie was still unable to open his eyes and he

could feel how the cum on his skin was drying, leaving a disgusting

crust.

Of course Master could hardly take such a filthy shit home with him and

since he planned to continue Jamie's training at the very same club

anyway, he simply tied up Jamie and left him there to "rest" a few

hours. He filled Jamie's mouth with a huge penis gag, securing it with a

sturdy strap behind his head. Then he used plastic straps to bring

Jamie's elbows and wrists together behind his back. To make sure that

Jamie didn't get comfortable on the cold dungeon floor, Master tied

Jamie's knees together, then brought Jamie's knees as close to his neck

as possible before securing his knees to his collar. Finally he secured

Jamie's collar to a ring in the floor, thus insuring that Jamie would

"rest" gagged, bound and folded up on the cold dungeon floor,

effectively blindfolded by a mass of dried jism.

Chapter 3

Monday morning Jamie went to work as he always did, but he was

no longer the same independent young man he had been only four days ago.

He was dressed the same way and he walked, talked and smiled the same

way (or nearly the same way), but underneath he was a subjugated and

chastised little slave boy. He led a new life now. Friday and Saturday

had been filled with harsh training, brutal punishments and merciless

fuckings, but Sunday Master had taken Jamie back to Jamie's own

apartment to let him rest and to inform him of how he would live from

now on. Inside the apartment Jamie, still dressed only in stilettos and

a collar and with his hands cuffed behind his back, had knelt beside

Master, speechless with shock. His apartment, once filled with

comfortable furniture and all the nice things given to him by his rich

lovers, was now almost completely empty. In fact only three things were

in it. The clothes in his wardrobe, his bed and a large, flat wicker

basket on the floor beside the bed, the kind that dogs sleep in. As he

knelt there Master told him that the bed would be occupied by his

handler, a person assigned to train Jamie and to make sure that all he

did was as per Master's orders. The basket on the floor was for Jamie.

Jamie's handler fed Jamie in the morning (a bowl of dog food), drove him

to work and picked him up again. Then he drove him where Master wanted

him to be; whether that was in his apartment, practicing high-heeled

walking or providing oral service - to the handler of course. Jamie

would never again be allowed to handle cash or credit card outside the

store. He walked around with completely empty pockets, no money, no ID,

no keys. All was taken care of and Jamie was left helpless and trapped -

just as Master wanted it.

Under his stylish suit he wore rubber shorts, concealing a very

well-packed ass and a cock imprisoned in a steel chastity tube, locked

in place with a steel wire around Jamie's scrotum, with three steel

wires crossing the head of his cock, preventing it from even expanding

in that direction. It had been the last two and most unpleasant

surprises of the long, long weekend. Jamie had been allowed to cum

during his training and punishment and Master's touch actually drove him

wild in spite of the fact that Jamie knew that those hands would

probably hurt him very badly eventually, but Sunday night as he locked

him up Master told Jamie that orgasms from now on would be very rare

occasions for him, if indeed he was ever allowed to cum again. Weeping

with loss and frustration Jamie kissed Master's shoes and thanked him as

enthusiastically as he could manage. His weeping seemed to please Master

who promptly pulled his property into his crotch and made him perform

oral service. The chastity device had been unpleasant surprise number

one. Unpleasant surprise number two had been his butt plug. Jamie had

watched and listened in horror as Master explained its function. The

plug not only had a GPS-transmitter so that Master could follow his

every move. The device was also equipped with a temperature sensor, a

special and very uncomfortable expanding head and an alarm. If the

device was removed an alarm would be triggered and his handler, never

far away, would come for him. This prevented Jamie from escaping the

constant surveillance. It could only be removed by his handler who

possessed the special codes needed and it would only be removed when

Jamie was being fucked or for his visits to the toilet, something he was

allowed once a day.

His handler was a huge man named Frank. Frank was stylishly dressed,

well groomed and spoke softly and in civilized tones, but Jamie had been

exposed to him during his stay at the club and there was only one man in

the whole world he was more afraid of and that was Master. Frank was

employed by the club and hired by masters for jobs just like Jamie.

Jamie had a horrifyingly vivid memory of Frank fucking his ass while

squeezing his balls and choking him with a piece of rope. He had come

closer that anyone but Master to killing him and Jamie was absolutely

terrified of him. He just knew that all attempts at escape would be

utterly futile.

And Jamie couldn't call for help either. In his suit Frank had installed

not one, but two cameras and two microphones so that he could follow

Jamie's every move. Jamie couldn't even write a note to the other clerks

or a customer without Frank knowing. Because both Master and Frank had
been quite clear about this point: they would not only take Jamie with

them if he tried to communicate his fate to others; they would also take

everyone who stood around him.

Jamie was desperate. He knew he had to escape or he would soon be

enslaved for the rest of his life, something that promised to be both

painful and short. Jamie had no illusions of Master's mercy or

compassion - he had none. He would fuck, beat, torture and even kill

Jamie just for sport and if Jamie didn't find a way to escape soon, this

was the fate that would befall him.

Not only was Jamie desperate to escape, but also terribly conflicted. He

did not enjoy slavery. Sure, he had enjoyed mild control games with some

of his lovers and there was no doubt that he had a submissive streak,

but what Master wanted to do was something else entirely, something from

which there was no return. And yet Jamie could not deny definite arousal

at some of the things

How being strangled could be so arousing was beyond his ability to

comprehend and the fact that Jamie had loved most of the gang-banging.

Not the beatings, but being taken by so many men at the same time had

been wonderful, if very humiliating. It was very confusing, especially

the fact that his trapped member tried to get hard every time he

remembered Master cutting off his air.

In short, Jamie was trapped. He wanted desperately to escape, but had no

idea how. At the same time he hated everything that had been done to

him, but got horribly aroused at the very idea of some of those very

same things. He told himself that for now he had to play along.
So when he left work, he walked straight to the car where Frank was

waiting. He got into the car and managed to avoid hesitating when Frank

pulled out his cock and drew Jamie's head down for service. When Jamie

had swallowed Frank's cum, he dutifully licked his member clean and put

it back into his pants as Frank drove off. This time their destination

was not Jamie's apartment, but a large and very expensive hotel

downtown. Jamie had no idea what was going to happen as Frank led him

through the very expensive looking lobby and into an elevator. On the

way Frank had exchanged greetings with the staff and from the way they

regarded him, Jamie had an idea that they knew what was going on. They

rode a glass elevator up and exited on the top floor, where Frank

knocked on the door of one of two penthouse suites in the hotel. Almost

instantly the door was opened by an impeccably dressed young, who looked

a lot like a Chinese edition of Jamie, except for the fact that this

young man exuded confidence. He invited Frank inside and Jamie followed

dutifully. They stood in a sort of hallway and without even looking at

Jamie the man said that "the slave needs to be naked and accessible".

Already terrified of Frank and of Master's retribution should he fail to

please, Jamie took his cue and quickly undressed, until the only things

he wore were his chastity device and his butt plug. Frank removed this

by first sending the proper codes to it, so that the head of it once

again became small enough for it to be removed. A sigh of relief

involuntarily escaped Jamie as the monster was retracted.

The young man let Frank out, agreeing on a pickup time for Jamie and the

turned to the naked slave in the hallway. Jamie waited docilely for the

young man to escort him and secretly marveled at the fact that his ass

now felt somehow empty and that this felt wrong. He couldn't already be

becoming addicted to being filled up to the max, now could he?

Jamie didn't have time to ponder this as the young man without any

warning grabbed him by the balls and used them as a leash and led him

into the main room of the penthouse. Inside on a large leather couch two

men sat in conversation. One was a middle-aged Chinese gentleman, very

well groomed and in an obviously expensive suit. The other man was also

middle-aged, an equally well groomed black gentleman, clearly the

manager of the hotel. At the feet of the Chinese gentleman sat the

object of their discussion. Or rather, he knelt. It was a dark-haired

young man of perhaps twenty-three, with perfect white skin now covered

in red welts. His hands were tied behind his back and his calves had

been almost fused with his thighs with very tightly tied leather straps.

In the corner of the room lay what looked like the remains of a hotel

uniform. He looked desperately at the hotel manager and clearly wanted

to speak, but despite being ungagged he was unable to, as the Chinese

gentleman had tied a leather strap very tightly around his neck. The

young man's face was almost purple and his tongue, which stuck out, had

an unhealthy dark blue color, his mouth working futilely to form words.

Every now and then the Chinese gentleman would pull on the strap and the

slave boy would twitch a little before the effort became too much and

was reduced to wordless lip movements.

The Chinese gentleman and the hotel manger were discussing the price of

the slave boy at their feet. The hotel manager argued that he had to

replace the young man, something which took time and effort and that he

had to receive extra compensation to buy calm among the other employees.

After all it could hardly be sad to be a safe work environment when the

customers could simply do with the employees as they saw fit. The

Chinese gentleman on the other hand argued that he price of such a

worthless specimen could impossibly be what the manager asked. Useless

scum like him were practically storming the doors of establishments such

as this to get a job and finding a replacement should hardly pose a

problem. As for the other employees, they could be kept in the dark and

for those who did find out what had happened to this boy, well they

could be sold off too, thereby increasing the hotel's revenues.

Jamie stood and watched in horrified wonder as the two men haggled over

the price of the young man on the floor, whose struggles became ever

more desperate as he realized that the manager was not playing some game

to get him off the hook, but actually selling him. When they finally

agreed on a price and the Chinese wrote a check, his struggles reached a

peak as he actually managed to produce a few half-strangled phrases

before his new owner tightened the strap and he fell unconscious to the

floor, twitching and letting his bladder go before the Chinese gentleman

loosened the strap sufficiently for him to breathe again. By the time he

came to again, the manager had thanked the Chinese and left and walked

past Jamie and his temporary handler without even a glance in their

direction.

As the new slave boy on the floor regained consciousness on the floor,

the Chinese gentleman finally turned his attention to Jamie. The young

man holding Jamie's balls, making Jamie painfully embarrassed as his

cock strained against its cage, stepped back and let the other take

over.

He let his eyes take in the now enslaved Jamie and his gaze was such

that Jamie had to look down in mere seconds. He was a man of obvious

power and influence as well as impeccable taste. Jamie saw that his suit

was probably from one of the most exclusive tailors in London and his
shoes from and Italian maker so exclusive that few outside the super

wealthy elite had ever heard of him. His shirt looked equally expensive

and the man's tie could be used as down payment on any apartment in

town. His watch also spelled extreme, yet discrete wealth. Like Master

the man exuded power and when his hand touched Jamie's thigh ever so

lightly, Jamie could not help but whimper. He was trapped, lost and

enslaved and even if he had been free to make a run for it, which he

definitely wasn't, the man's presence paralyzed him. Humiliating him

even further was the fact the raw undiluted power made Jamie hard, or at

least try to get hard, all over again, something the man did not miss

even if he said nothing.

He pointed to a door at the far end of the room and said: "Kneel by the

bed, facing away from it. Hands behind your head." Unable to offer even

the slightest resistance Jamie quickly jogged into the bedroom.

Meanwhile the man had once again grabbed hold of his new slave's

choke-leash and he now dragged the poor boy into the bedroom, the slave

emitting gurgling sounds before they were cut off and he was once again

reduced to airless spasms. In the bedroom Jamie knelt as ordered, hands

behind his head. His crotch was clearly exposed and easily accessible

and when the man had deposited his new slave, making sure that the boy

could breathe again, he walked up to Jamie and kicked him hard in the

groin without any warning at all. Jamie's world once again exploded with

pain so bad he didn't even think to bring his hands down to his crotch.

Instead he collapsed with a high-pitched whine, curling up into a ball.

He felt sick but stopped the bile he felt rising in his throat, as he

felt convinced that this would get him into even more trouble.

Before Jamie could pull himself together the Chinese began tying him up.

He folded Jamie's arms up and tied his forearms to his upper arms and he
then proceeded to tie Jamie's legs in a similar manner. Soon Jamie lay

on the floor, helpless and docilely awaiting the Chinese's next move.

The man's move came as a surprise to Jamie, who had been expecting

something like a fucking or a flogging. But the Chinese gentleman

instead scooped Jamie up off the floor and deposited him on a table,

commanding him to stand on all fours, completely still. Jamie of course

obeyed and so he stood still on top of the table, on knees and elbows as

the Chinese proceeded to secure him to the table. Before folding Jamie's

legs and arms up, the man had placed thin ropes in the crooks of Jamie's

elbows and knees, so that these now could be used to secure Jamie to the

legs of the table. He also tied a web connecting Jamie's legs and elbows

so that he was unable to move his limbs at all; he could only stand on

all fours on the table.

When this process was completed the Chinese gentleman s turned to his

new acquisition in the floor. He lifted him up from the floor and

deposited him on a high-backed chair; his legs still folded up, and tied

him to it. Then he removed the strap from around his throat and instead

shoved a huge pump gag into the slave's face and pumped it up until

pathetic whines once again escaped the slave's throat and his eyes

looked desperate above bloated chins. "Now, my little bitch, I have

decided that I want you as my soft, little fucktoy," the Chinese

gentleman told his new acquisition, "and that means that I would prefer

you to be soft and docile from the start. Tomorrow you'll be on your way

to my home in Shanghai and you must understand that escape is

impossible. Whether you like it or not, you are going to be a slave, a

fucktoy, for the rest of your life." The former hotel employee looked at

his master in silent horror he continued to detail his fate: "As I said,

I want you as my soft, little toy, not my pain-slave. I won't hesitate

to torture you for the smallest infraction, but you have been chosen for

your soft lips and cute ass, not your capacity for taking pain. So I

have a gift for you, slave, and I am sure that even a dumb bitch like

you will appreciate this one. I will give you the chance to learn what

happens to disobedient slaves without having to feel the pain." Jamie

saw what was coming and a whimper of fear escaped his mouth, something

the Chinese recognized with an evil smile. "I will demonstrate a few of

those things that can happen to unruly slaves in my household, using the

object on the table. It will only happen this once. After that the pain

will be inflicted on you. When I am done with the thing on the table you

will have the chance to tell me whether you want the soft and easy life

of a little, bimbo fucktoy or the harsh and demanding life of a

pain-slave."

Then the Chinese gentleman turned to Jamie and began his demonstration.

To start it at the proper level and to show his seriousness, he started

out by squeezing Jamie's balls until Jamie had screamed himself out and

nearly fainted from the pain. After squeezing them for a full five

minutes, Jamie was completely red in the face, all the tendons in his

neck stood out as a silent scream was chiseled onto his face. He just

knew that he would never again be able to use his genitals as this

treatment was simply too brutal for them to withstand. As the Chinese

gentleman moved to open one of two suitcases full of torture implements,

Jamie realized what he should have all along; that the squeezing had

only been a mild prelude.

Four hours later the session was finally winding down. Jamie's balls

were about five times their normal size, the skin which was now streaked

bluish welts, stretched in a decidedly unhealthy way. His body was

bruised and beaten and in his ass resided a dildo so monstrous that
Jamie had been reduced to an almost silent scream as the Chinese

gentleman had forced it in. For the final attraction a clear plastic bag

had been pulled down over Jamie's head and the Chinese now made sure

that the seal to Jamie's neck was tight as the poor slave boy struggled

futilely. All the muscles in Jamie's body trembled with effort and lack

of air as real struggling was impossible for him. Not only was he too

tightly tied, but also he simply no longer had the strength. This was

the tenth time in a row that the Chinese had used the plastic bag to

choke him with and as with the other times he carried on until right

before Jamie became unconscious, reducing him to a mass of panic. Panic

and lust that was. Jamie's cock still tried to get hard each time the

bag was pulled over his head, something the Chinese had mercifully not

noticed.

Finally the bag was pulled off and the Chinese turned to new

acquisition, for whom the demonstration had been. The gentleman's

attention shifted completely and Jamie now stood on the table as some

forgotten and discarded toy. The Chinese removed his new slave's gag and

looked inquisitively at him. He didn't have to wait for long before the

former hotel employee, who had wet himself from fear during Jamie's

torture session, blurted out: "Please Master I'll be ever so good.

Please keep me as a fucktoy, please don't hurt me, please�" The pathetic

little creep continued to cry out his new found devotion to the Chinese

gentleman, who simply smiled and took out his cock, showing it into the

slave's mouth and thus silencing his pleas. Jamie then recognized the

eager slurping sounds of a cocksucker trying too hard to please and saw

the Chinese gentleman's hand grab the back of his new toy's head.

After that the Chinese gentleman, his lust for inflicting pain
temporarily sated, lost interest in Jamie who was released from his

bonds by the young assistant who had received him. He also saw to it

that Jamie, now almost unconscious from pain, was handed back to Frank.

Frank, however, would not tolerate Jamie's resting and soon the

whimpering slave boy was limping in front of Frank out of the hotel. The

size of his badly mangled balls made walking extremely painful, but of

course there was no respite for him. Soon he was "home", kneeling in

front of Frank to provide oral service before being tied up and finally

allowed to sleep.

His last month of "freedom" went like that. When he wasn't at work he

was being fucked or punished by someone, either Frank or some other

Master, until it was time for him to be tied up and allowed to sleep.

Every minute not used for either work or service Jamie spent practicing

walking properly in heels or other vital slave skills. By the end of the

month Jamie no longer thought escape was even an option. Escape was

impossible and although he didn't want a (short) lifetime of brutal

slavery and would rather be allowed to live normally as before, he was

beginning to enjoy both the fuckings, the punishments and the slave

attire (or lack of same) entirely too much for his own liking. He now

found his regular shoes clunky and ugly, preferring his sexy stilettos

and the seductive way they made his ass sway. Jamie was no longer able

to recall the feel of cotton or silk on his ass, since all he had felt

on it for a month had been either rubber or nothing. Jamie feared

becoming a slave more than anything, feared being taken away by Master,

but in reality he was already well on his way to becoming a full-time

slave of both body and mind.

Chapter 4

The day had finally arrived. It was now exactly one month
since Master set him free after the "test weekend" and Jamie was in a

state of high terror. His options were fast diminishing and his chances

of escaping a lifetime of slavery were running out. In spite of a cock

straining against its cage at the delicious prospect of being fucked by

Master, Jamie did not want this. He knew that if once Master took him,

it would be for good. That was too much. He had learned a great deal

about his own submissive tendencies in the last month, learned how much

he loved being strangled, how he could enjoy submission and even pain to

some extent, but if Master took him it would be too much. Too much

control, too much torture and submission without end. And it would be

final. Jamie had learned to embrace his own submissiveness, but had

found that the domination offered by Master, and the level of submission

he demanded, was far too much.

This posed an enormous problem. Master hadn't asked him if he wanted to

submit; he had demanded it. This meant that Jamie would have to run for

it in order to escape. And if he ran and got caught his situation would

probably be so much worse than if he simply submitted, even if it was

hard to imagine for Jamie, he had no doubt that it was so. And besides,

how was he going to escape when Frank was watching his every step,

escorting him at all times? Jamie had left his apartment this morning in

Frank's company and now, as he left his job after saying goodbye to his

colleagues, he sat in Frank's car on his way to becoming Master's slave.

How was he going to escape? Although he sat absolutely still so as not

anger Frank, Jamie felt completely desperate, trapped and alone.

He broke out of this depressing train of thoughts when Frank stopped the

car. Jamie had expected them to be either at the club or at Master's

home. They were not. Frank had parked the car in an alley in one of the
seedier neighborhoods of town. There was no sign of Master. Frank told

Jamie to get out of the car as he came around to his side of the car.

Jamie obeyed instantly, just as he did when Frank ordered him to strip.

Soon he stood naked in the alley, wearing only his butt plug and his

chastity device. Then Frank removed Jamie's butt plug, threw him a pair

of white, ankle high stilettos boots and told him to put them on. Of

course Jamie complied instantly, loving the feel of the much too small

six-inch stilettos on his feet, squeezing his feet painfully but

improving his posture immeasurably. When the boots were on his feet,

Frank secured them there with a padlock and then placed a white leather

collar around Jamie's neck, also securing this one with a padlock.

Taking Jamie by the arm he then marched the naked slave boy around the

corner and into the street. Here even a slave as comparatively well

trained as Jamie balked. His enslavement was bad enough, but to be put

on public display! His resistance was short-lived and soon Frank had

dragged Jamie, now sporting a pair of very red cheeks, in to full view

in the street. He dragged Jamie all the way out to the curb. Here he

used a spray can to draw up a small square, two feet by two feet, on the

pavement. He placed Jamie inside the square and hung a sign from Jamie's

collar. It said: "Property of Master van der Graaf. No touching!" Then

he spoke: "You will wait here until you are picked up. Keep your hands

behind your back and do not move outside the square I have drawn!" Then,

without another word and without looking back he walked away, leaving

Jamie alone at the curb.

Jamie had never felt more embarrassed and exposed than he did now.

Except for a collar, a pair of stiletto boots, a chastity device a small

sign, not even reaching past his nipples, he was completely naked. He

wanted to run and hide, but he didn't dare move. Even after he had seen
Frank's car drive away he didn't dare use his hands to cover his front.

He realized that this was his last chance to escape. The butt plug with

the tracking device had been removed and Frank was nowhere to be seen.

If he waited for the pickup his fate was sealed and only a life of

slavery, brutal and harsh, awaited him. But if he ran he might be even

worse off. If he was caught he was sure to face extremely brutal and

prolonged torture and his life would in all likelihood be even shorter

than the already short and painful slave existence he was looking at.

And although he might not be able to see Frank, he could be parked just

around the corner. Other guards could be posted just to test his

obedience. The dilemma made Jamie whine with desperation. If he stayed

put he was doomed, but if ran he might be in even worse trouble. He

cried with desperation as he thought about this, trembling as he sobbed,

but still so well conditioned that his hands remained at his back.

After thirty minutes it became apparent even to Jamie that he was too

well trained and too afraid of Master to try running. He still stood at

the curb with his hands clasped behind his back, his feet in the exact

same position as when Frank had left him. His fate now apparently sealed

he began to look around. He had been so absorbed with his dilemma that

he hadn't really seen where he was. It wasn't just any old street that

Frank had deposited him in. The street was full of sex shops and seedy

strip bars and there were prostitutes everywhere. One particular type of

prostitute in fact. The street was the place for the shemale whores. All

around him were shemales, some very feminine and almost

indistinguishable from real women and some more obviously showing off

what they had once been. Until now they had kept their distance to the

crying slave boy, but now a couple of them moved closer.

"Are you alright honey?" one of the asked Jamie. She was small and

extremely curvy shemale with big tits and long, smooth black hair. She

was wearing a strapless leopard skin dress, clinging to her skin and a

pair of leopard skin stilettos. Her big brown eyes looked concerned and

her full, red lips wore a pout expressing similar sentiment. Jamie

blinked away his tears, but didn't know how to answer at first. Then he

simply said in a tiny hopeless voice: "I don't dare run, but if I stay

he's going to take me away and do terrible things to me." The leopard

skin whore nodded her head as her friend chipped in: "We know honey,

it's hard. If what we've heard about Master van der Graf is true, you're

in a tight spot." As she mentioned Master's name the leopard skin whore

shivered visibly. Her friend, the one who had spoken last, was a huge,

black, muscular shemale. She wore a very short and very tight black

leather mini skirt and a very tight white sweater, accentuating her

truly enormous tits. On her feet were shiny black stilettos. Unlike her

friend in leopard skin, who had a deep and sensuous voice, the muscular

shemale had a high soprano. The shemale in the leopard skin dress spoke,

her voice now much shakier than before: "Master van der Graf is

certainly a strict master," she said as an involuntary shiver underlined

her statement, "but you did the right thing in not running." Jamie

lifted his head as she continued: "Maybe there are none of Master van

der Graf's men around, but this is Master Antwan's turf and he would

most certainly catch you and deliver you to your owner. And then you'd

have been even worse off."

Jamie's spirits lifted ever so slightly at this and she continued:

"Estella here and I belong to Master Antwan." A look passed between the

two shemales and then they lifted up their miniscule skirts, the leopard

lady first, then a little later Estelle. The leopard lady was extremely

well endowed, but her big cock was imprisoned in a chastity device
exactly like Jamie's own. "Master Antwan caught me six years ago and put

this cage on me and he hasn't let haven't cum since then, the evil shit.

The frustration drives me crazy; especially since all I ever do is have

sex. I'm a fucking whore, getting screwed all day long and I never get

off! Never!" Her voice filled with tears as she spoke and then she

added: "But I'm fortunate." She nodded at Estelle who had lifted up her

skirt by now. In Estelle's crotch hung her tiny and now useless member,

completely limp. Estelle had been castrated and through the head of her

useless cock a very large, steel ring had been placed. "I loved Master

Rick and went into slavery willingly," she said in her high and squeaky

voice, "I loved him when he bound me and fucked me and I even loved him

when he turned me into his sissy bitch. I was his slave for a year. Then

he tired of me and sold me to Master Antwan five month's ago. Master

Antwan promptly took my balls and sent me out on the street as soon as

the wounds had healed."

This crushed Jamie's spirits again and he began crying. What had

happened to the two shemale was terrible and it was apparent, at least

from the leopard lady, that they thought his Master was brutal. He was

lost! The only positive thing was that he had been right in staying put.

Running would undoubtedly have been worse if what they said about Master

Antwan's grip on the neighborhood was correct.

As if to confirm this a man stepped out of the shadows and approached

the two whores and the slave boy. The whores had been very careful not

to touch him, just as the sign around his neck told then to, but they

stood close and tried to comfort him. When they saw the man approaching

both jumped away with a look of pure terror on their faces. "Getting

cozy with the little bitch-boy, are we?" the man drawled dangerously. He
was a huge black man, more than a little fat and with him came a whole

group of his bodyguards and such. Looking over his shoulder Jamie saw

that they apparently had been sitting inside the building right behind

them where the windows were open. Fear leaking out of their voices both

whores replied: "Master Antwan, no Master Antwan." They had dropped to

their knees and were worshipping Master Antwan's boots as they spoke.

"Now Roxy," Master Antwan said as he addressed the whore in the leopard

skin dress, "I believe you expressed unhappiness at having your needy

cock restrained. Unhappiness about me as a person?" Roxy whined with

terror as he assured Master Antwan that she had never meant to express

dissatisfaction, that she loved her master and that she loved everything

he had done to her. Master Antwan smiled at her when she had finished

her assurances, a smile of such malice that Roxy actually screamed with

fear. Master Antwan nodded his head and soon four men held Roxy down by

her arms and legs, spreading them as wide as possible. A fifth man knelt

down and pulled up her dress. Then he removed her chastity device and

when this happened Roxy went hysterical with fear, screaming and crying

for Master Antwan to stop, that she'd be a good girl. None of it helped.

Master Antwan turned to Estelle who stood completely still, frozen with

fear as a stream of piss ran down her leg. Smiling at this sign of her

terror, Master Antwan addressed her: "Now Estelle, you are a good bitch,

aren't you" Estelle was hardly able to form the words, but in the end

she did manage to squeak that she was indeed a good bitch. "Alright then

Estelle," he continued, "then you'll have no trouble following every

little order I give?" In the background Roxy was screaming for mercy as

Estelle answered that she would indeed follow her master's orders. "Good

girl," Master Antwan said in his most condescending tone, "then I want

you to step on that bitch's balls as hard you can." Roxy's pleas reached
a new high as Estelle swallowed hard. "Pierce her balls with your heels

and when you've managed that, use your heels to scrape out all that is

inside." Estelle keened with terror at this command, but was completely

unable to disobey. Trying not to look at her friend's face, she stepped

in between her legs and lifted up her foot. Roxy's pleas were now even

more desperate, but there was no way around it. Estelle brought her heel

down on Roxy's left testicle as hard as she could. Judging from Roxy's

scream it was very hard indeed, but it wasn't quite hard enough to

pierce the skin and so Estelle had to do again. It took her ten tries

before she pierced Roxy's left testicle and by then Roxy had been

reduced to bubbling wreck, sobbing and screaming when she wasn't

vomiting from the extreme pain. With her heel inside Roxy's testicle,

Estelle, who looked sick also, started to scrape the contents out of it.

This naturally made Roxy pass out, but that didn't stop Master Antwan.

One of his helpers had a small vial of smelling salt and soon the by now

completely desperate Roxy was once again conscious, able to bear the

full brunt of the terrible torture inflicted on her.

Estelle's stomping around in Roxy ruined crotch continued until Roxy had

only threads of skin left where her balls had been and Master Antwan was

satisfied. She was still screaming weakly, lying in a pool of vomit

mixed with blood. "Estelle, you useless bitch," he spat at her, "go make

money for me, you worthless cow." Estelle scampered off down the street

to try to pick up a customer. He then turned to the guys holding the

ruined sissy and said: "Take her to doctor Jacobsen and get her patched

up." Two of the men stopped the bleeding in Roxy's crotch with a rag and

dragged her into a car. Just before they closed the door, Master Antwan

shouted after them. "And get him to pump up her tits. 52 DD at least!"

Then the car door closed and they drove off with the castrated
sissy-slave.

Jamie had watched in horror, but without moving an inch. He had pissed

on himself, but his hands were still clasped behind his back and his

feet had not moved an inch. Neither Master Antwan nor any of his men had

paid even the slightest bit of attention to him and they displayed

absolutely no interest as they walked away, leaving him in the same

place Frank had put him, but now right beside a pool of blood and vomit.

Soon the street was empty, except for the other, now horrified, shemale

whores. They were all no doubt the property of Master Antwan and the

castration had undoubtedly also been a display of power for them to see.

They kept a healthy distance to Jamie as they strutted their stuff.

Occasionally a car pulled up and one of the whores got in. The cars also

cruised past Jamie at slow speed, but when they saw the sign and the

pool of blood right next to him they sped off.

After a couple of hours it began to rain and soon Jamie was soaked. It

became very cold for the naked slave boy, who now stood shivering with

chattering teeth. The only good thing about it was that it washed away

the traces of Master Antwan's display of power.

Evening became night and still the rain fell on the paralyzed slave. The

shemale whores had retreated into doorways and only came out if cars

cruised by at low speed. Jamie had been standing at the curb for at

least seven hours when a police car cruised by. Jamie's heart leapt and

hope filled him once again, but he was too cautious and too cowed to

move his feet or to use his hands. As the police cruiser pulled up, this

proved to be a good thing. The window of the car was rolled down and a

chubby white face looked out at him and his sign. The police man took it
all in, turned to his partner and said something before the car took of

with a howl of laughter.

Finally, in early hours of the morning and with the rain still pouring

down, a huge limousine and a big, black van pulled up and as the window

of the limousine slid down Jamie could see Master sitting inside. He had

lost. Master had come to get him and he was never going to let him go.

Jamie felt a brief and perverse moment of pride when he saw that Master

had a grim smile of satisfaction on his face, clearly satisfaction that

his slave had remained in place. Two large men came out of the van

following the limousine. One carried an umbrella which he opened right

before the limousine door opened and Master got out. The man held the

umbrella so that it covered Master, but not Jamie. Master took in his

shivering slave boy and spoke briefly: "It may be possible to train even

a useless shit like you." Then turning to the two men he continued:

"Take him and wait for me at the van."

The man not holding the umbrella moved quickly and exceedingly

efficiently and even if Jamie had tried to resist it was highly doubtful

if it would have made any difference. In a matter of minutes his arms

and hands had been sealed inside a white, rubber armbinder tied so

tightly that his elbows touched. A massive white ballgag was forced into

his mouth and then he was taken to the van. As the backdoors opened he

stopped in shock. Inside the van, sitting on benches along the sides,

torsos, legs and feet strapped to the van, were at least ten other slave

boys dressed and tied exactly as he was. The fact that Master had

seemingly taken so many at once and was subjecting them to the same

treatment at the same time, because he had to assume that these slave

boys had been through the same things he had, boggled his mind.
He was so shocked that he didn't even notice the men strapping him down

and soon he sat with the others, waiting for whatever terrible fate

Master had in mind for them. On the floor of the van were two more

slaves. These were tied up just like Jamie and the others, but seemed

much more desperate. Whereas Jamie and the others sat docilely awaiting

their fate, these two struggled futilely against their bonds, crying and

begging behind their gags. The reason for their desperation became

apparent as Master came to the backdoor. Sharing the shelter under his

umbrella was now Master Antwan. The two slaves on the floor were pulled

to their feet and as he handed them over Master explained: "They tried

to run. This can of course not be tolerated." Master Antwan made an

understanding sound as he looked at the two slaves put before him. "I

understand that you are about to make one of your special movies,

Antwan?" Master asked. "Indeed I am, Robert," Master Antwan answered,

"and I think it most appropriate that these two are excellent candidates

to star in it. It'll be a long and painful shoot my bitches, but at

least you'll have the pleasure of extended and very, very realistic

strangulations, which I understand both of you love." The two runaways

screamed behind their gags as Master Antwan's men took them away as

Master and Master Antwan laughed. "It's been a pleasure, Robert," Master

Antwan said as they shook hands, "I'll keep a lookout for more

candidates for you." The last sentence was accompanied by a glance at

the bound slave boys in the van, suggesting that more than one of them

had been picked out for Master's attention by Master Antwan.

With that the two masters said their goodbyes and shut the door to the

terrified slaves, who were then left in darkness. Jamie then felt the

van accelerate as they drove off. By now he was almost numb with terror

and completely paralyzed. His will to flee had been removed and although
the prospect of a lifetime of slavery loomed before him, he no longer

thought he could escape.

The drive took a long time, during which there was complete and utter

silence among the slaves in the van. It was as if no one dared even sob

or breathe loudly. Finally the van came to a halt and the doors were

opened. The two men came in and began removing the straps securing them

to the van after which the slaves were lined up outside the van. There

were no attempts at escape and Master was nowhere around. Jamie was one

of the first ones out of the van and he tried to see where he was.

Although it was very dark, he did manage to make out that they were

standing at what looked like the back entrance to a very large house, or

more accurately a castle-like structure.

When all the slave boys were out of the van, they were led into the

house and into a small room with no windows and a cement floor. There

was no light in the room, at least not one that was turned on and the

slaves stood close right inside the door looking bewildered at the dark

and completely bare room. One of the men said: "Goodnight, bitches.

Sleep tight." He then chuckled before closing the door and plunging the

room into complete darkness. The darkness was complete, not even a tiny

ray of light creeping under the door. Jamie couldn't see anything, but

he clearly felt the smooth bodies of the slaves standing next to him. A

few could be heard uttering muffled sounds behind their gags and at

least one was crying, but even after an extended period of time had his

eyes had not adjusted enough to see anything. The darkness really was

complete.

Eventually the slaves got tired and one or two tried to sit. This
resulted in a domino effect and soon they had all fallen over and lay in

large tangle of bound bodies, smooth legs and stiletto-clad feet. But

all were tired and needed to rest and even if there wasn't enough room

for all of them on the floor and everyone had someone else resting

against them, many, including Jamie simply fell asleep bound and gagged

lying against his fellow slaves on a cold cement floor.

Chapter 5

Jamie was neither prepared for nor rested when the light

suddenly came on and a voice blared through hidden speakers that it was

time for them to wake. A groan, or more like a whimper, went through the

mass of enslaved and feminized bitch-boys. Jamie felt moisture on his

cheek and as he looked up he caught the embarrassed look on the face of

the slave boy whose crotch he had been resting in. The slave's chastity

device dripped pre-cum and Jamie could see his cock straining against

its imprisonment.

Then the door was opened and two huge men began pulling the slave boys

to their feet. In a matter of minutes the all stood in the hallway,

shivering and afraid. An order was given and the slaves were marched

off. After a bit of walking they were led into what was unmistakably a

dungeon. It was huge and from the looks of the rack and shelves filled

with torture equipment, it was also terrifyingly well-equipped. It was

clearly Master's private dungeon and Jamie had no doubt that he would

spend far too much time in it. The column of slaves was brought to a

halt after which the two men placed the slaves kneeling in a

semi-circle. The slaves offered no resistance whatsoever and the job was

quickly done. Jamie knelt at the far right end of the semi-circle and as

such had the chance to count the number of new slaves. Counting himself

there were twelve new slaves in the semi-circle.

Twelve new slave boys. Twelve young men who had presumably all been

selected and trained for to be Master's property. And these were only

the ones who had made it this far. Jamie remembered the two slaves from

the night before and wondered how many had been dropped before that

moment. It was staggering and absolutely terrifying.

Jamie's thoughts were interrupted as Master van der Graf entered the

room. With him came three slaves, but for the moment Jamie's was too

preoccupied with Master to see the others properly. Master was not a man

to mince with words and so he began straightaway: "Stupid, worthless,

pathetic bitch-boys," he bellowed to the cowering slave boys. "You exist

for one thing and one thing only: to please me." Master looked at all

the slaves and the continued: "You are here for one thing: the race to

become my new favorite slave." This got the attention of all the slave

boys and although no one looked up Jamie could feel the tension rising

among them.

"If you should win, you will take the place of Manuel here." Master

indicated a slave boy standing on his left hand side, his head demurely

bowed. As Jamie saw the slave boy he gasped behind his gag, as did all

the other slave boys. Manuel was a slight and very sexy young man

completely hairless, bald with only hair in his eyebrows and fine,

smooth skin. Or at least it would have been smooth if it hadn't been for

the many marks of systematic torture: old bruises and scars competed for

the space on his skin. But that wasn't what scared Jamie and the others.

No, the scars were the least of it. Manuel had no arms. His shoulders

were smooth and looked almost as if he had never had any arms. Almost.

He was naked except for his chastity device and a pair of fierce ballet
boots reaching all the way up to his knees. They were shiny and black

and looked at least two sizes too small, with a heel of nine inches or

more. They were so small in fact that they hadn't been put on like

regular boots, but rather assembled on Manuel's feet by bringing the

upper and lower half of the boot together around his leg and the

securing them in place with severe looking clasps. The effect was a very

sexy and very severe compression of the foot and leg and wonderful

posture for the armless slave.

His waist was compressed too, by a surprisingly narrow corset, which

constricted his waist down to an almost absurd diameter. Jamie guessed,

correctly, that Manuel would have to breathe in small, shallow gasps.

Manuel stood absolutely still at his owner's side, not even wearing a

collar. The reason for the absence of a collar was apparent in the

severe bruising, both by rope and by hand, around his neck. Master's

favorite was obviously subjected to severe breathplay on a regular

basis.

Manuel was devastatingly sexy and as Jamie noticed a single drop of

pre-cum glistening on the tip of his chastity device, Manuel probably

thought that his position was desirable, even if he had no arms.

The fact that Manuel's position was to be preferred over any of the

other positions "offered" by Master was confirmed as he continued: "If

you fail to take Manuel's place you might be lucky enough to end up like

number 59 here." An involuntary whine of terror went through the

forcibly assembled contestants as number 59 stepped forward.

Number 59 was a faceless rubber doll and a severely restrained one at

that. On his feet were tiny, black, ankle-high stiletto boots with

seven-inch heels. The whole rest of him, save for a few, small,

strategically placed holes, was covered in thick, white rubber. Like

Manuel, number 59's waist was compressed by a small, black corset as was

his neck, but other than that every square-inch of his body was covered

with red rubber, from his legs to the top of his head and all the way

out to the tips of his fingers. On his forehead, his chest and his back

the words: "Slave #59" were printed in black. His ankles were connected

by a chain of no more than six inches, as were his wrists and the chain

connecting his wrists was secured to a chain around his waist.

The suit had tiny holes at his nostrils and an opening at his mouth, but

this opening had been plugged by a giant, black penis-gag. His eyes were

hidden behind smoked glass lenses, which were an integral part of his

suit. The biggest opening in the suit was at his crotch where it could

be seen that his ass was plugged by a something so big that a handle

almost a full foot in length stuck out. All of this was terrifying in

itself, but what made the slave boys scream was number 59's genitals, or

rather lack thereof. Number 59 had been castrated and the space once

occupied by his balls had been taken up by a massive steel slave-ring.

His cock, now tiny and limp, was held and compressed by a small steel

tube, which was held in place by two steel rods piercing number 59's now

useless cock. Number 59's cock had been pierced through the head and a

heavy steel ring carrying a one pound lead weight for good measure hung

from it.

While keening in terror along with the other new slaves, Jamie wondered

how number 59 might possibly be considered lucky. Master answered the

question for him: "If you displease me, however, you will share a fate
similar to this bitch." The third slave was pushed forward, landing at

Master's feet. His feet were clad in stilettos, but other than that he

was completely naked. His arms were tied in a very severe back-prayer, a

binding they would never recover from since they had been tied using

barbed wire. Where the barbed wire didn't cut into the flesh it had

turned blue from being tied too tightly for too long. He was gagged with

what looked like a dirty rag and his entire body was covered fresh

bruises and welts. It looked like he had been whipped with just about

everything Jamie could think of, including barbed wire.

But he was still alive and he was scrambling desperately to kiss

Master's boots, to plead and beg him. Master ignored him at first and

instead turned to Manuel: "Blowjob," he simply said to his armless

favorite. Instantly Manuel dropped to his knees in front of Master and

began opening Master's trousers with his mouth, a task made even more

difficult by the fact that he had no teeth. Manuel, however, had had

plenty of practice and soon his soft lips enveloped Master's huge cock.

A look of pure blissful submission was painted on his face as he sucked

his owner's cock eagerly.

His cock inside Manuel's soft and talented mouth Master turned his

attention to the beaten and tortured slave in front of him. Taking his

time he stood him up and removed his gag, so that he could hear the

slave's pathetic begging. He didn't listen for long, however. With a

look of evil pleasure he closed both hands around the slave's throat and

began squeezing. Instantly the sound of begging stopped and the slave's

feet began to move frantically. Soon the slave's stiletto-clad feet were

doing a desperate dance almost a foot off the ground as Master lifted

him up while he squeezed. The slave boy's struggling reached a frantic

peak, his feet kicking wildly, hitting Manuel in the head and back. This
didn't stop his devoted sucking and as Master's pleasure mounted, so the

slave's struggles began to subside. His frantic kicking became weak

twitching and as his feet twitched for the last time he lost control of

his bladder and bowel. At that moment Master came and Manuel was quick

to push his head as far down over his owner's cock as he could, making

sure that he swallowed everything he was given. His orgasm over Master

threw the dead slave away and had Manuel close his fly before getting up

and taking up position right behind him.

Jamie and all the other new slaves were absolutely terrified and more

than one, including Jamie, had pissed themselves with fear. All waited

in terror for Master's next words. First, however, Master called for

number 59 who scampered over as fast as his hobbled feet would allow.

Without speaking a word Master removed number 59's penis gag, which

proved to be both outrageously long and wide. Number 59 knew what was

expected of him and he dropped to his knees as gracefully as the chain

connecting his ankles would allow, which wasn't very graceful, more like

a nasty fall. He then leaned forward and began licking the floor clean,

not only eating the shit and piss from the now dead slave, but also the

piss spilled by the terrified newcomers.

Only when number 59 had finished cleaning the floor and was once again

standing behind Master, his gag strapped securely in place, did Master

speak: "You exist only to please me; nothing else," he said, "remember

that always. If you are very, very good you might replace Manuel, but

you will have to prove that you are a better cocksucker, have a more

inviting ass and that you are a better slave than him in order for that

to happen." Jamie swallowed involuntarily. Having seen the superbly

graceful and skilled slave boy in action Jamie thought that was nearly
impossible. "If you fail at that you might be good enough to become one

of my devoted house-slaves, like number 59," Master continued, "but you

will have to be very skilled and obedient to be allowed to join them."

The prospect of becoming a castrated rubber-slave as a reward for good

behavior was hard to swallow, but the alternative Master outlined was

even worse: "If you fail at both your fate will be like the bitch I just

strangled. Only you can't expect to get off that easily. Be good,

bitches."

With this final admonishment, Master left his new batch of slave boys in

a state of acute fear. All of them, including Jamie, thought that the

best they could hope for was to become a castrated, shit-eating

rubber-bitch, a fate none thought attractive in the least way. Only it

was far better than the alternative most thought. None thought they

would be able to best or even match Manuel.

Chapter 6

After Master left the dungeon, his men came to prepare the

slave boys for their new lives. The first step was to remove all of

their body hair - permanently, something achieved with the application

of a very nasty smelling cr�me. Jamie was convinced that the cr�me would

burn his skin, but when it was rinsed off, his skin was smooth and

hairless and it remained that way. The slaves were then fitted with

their new uniform: white, ankle-high stiletto boots, with a seven-inch

metal heel. They were much, much too small and hurt Jamie's feet

horribly, but still he loved them. Jamie couldn't admit to himself

loving most of what was done to him, but he had to admit that he loved

wearing heels, the higher the heel, the better; the smaller and finer

the shoe, the better. When he felt them squeezing his feet in a

deliciously painful manner, his imprisoned cock once again strained

against it's cage.

Next came a corset. It was made from steel reinforced leather and

extended from just below his ribs, to just above his hips. When it had

been tightened Jamie's breathing had been reduced to labored gasps. Then

a collar was secured around his neck. It was more of a neck corset

really, again from steel reinforced, white leather and it kept Jamie's

chin up and insured that he only looked straight ahead. A large steel

ring dangled down the front.

Finally his ankles were connected by a chain no more than eight inches

long and his wrists, which had been fitted with semi-permanent manacles,

were secured to steel rings in the sides of the corset.

Jamie was somewhat surprised that he was left ungagged, but his surprise

soon turned to sheer horror as he was lined up in front of a dentist's

chair together with all the other new slave boys. One by one they were

strapped down in the chair and two of Master's men removed their teeth

none too gently. Like all the new slaves Jamie cried and whimpered with

horror and just like the others he was far too afraid to run or even

object. Soon he too stood in the line of crying, toothless slave boys.

Their mouths were rinsed with a liquid closing and disinfecting the

wounds and then they were finally all gagged with huge penis gags made

from white rubber.

Thus prepared their training and selection began. The method employed by

Master and his men was simple and extremely brutal. The new slaves were

tested for a number of qualities: devotion, stamina, obedience and

endless variations of these themes.

Tests and training sessions for stamina were invariably outrageously

brutal, painful and protracted: electrical torture to the most sensitive

parts of the body a favorite of Master's. In one such test Jamie was

placed on his back on a metal "horse", a bar about two feet long and

eight inches wide. It stood on four sturdy steel legs or posts and Jamie

was placed so that his back was supported only by eight inches of steel.

His arms and legs were secured so that his arms were tied to the posts

closest to his ass and his legs to the posts closest to head. The

position was strenuous and painful in itself, but that was far from the

end it. Large alligator clamps with strong springs were placed around

his balls, making him scream in pain. He didn't scream for long,

however, as Master forced his giant cock down Jamie's throat and began

fucking his face, deep and hard.

Jamie was now in great pain; his back felt like it was breaking and his

balls were being crushed, but the presence of Master's cock in his mouth

and throat focused Jamie's mind. Since arriving in Master's dungeon

Jamie had undergone a change. He no longer thought of escape or of how

short and brutal his life was going to be. He now focused entirely on

how he could please Master best. And he absolutely loved sucking

Master's magnificent cock. Since seeing Manuel please Master

cock-sucking had become an obsession for Jamie. Not only did he strive

to replace Manuel, the fear of castration was always with him as it

indeed was with all the new slave boys, but he had found that having

Master's cock in his mouth was intensely pleasurable for him even if he

was unable to cum. He was beginning to love Master and was already well

on his way to being supremely grateful for being captured and abused.

Meanwhile Master's cock pumped in and out of Jamie's throat, cutting his
breath off for quite long periods of time. This invariably made him

thrash and twitch as he became ever more desperate for air and the

thrashing only made his position worse. To make matters worse Master had

picked up a large wooden paddle and was now using it to beat Jamie's

balls in rhythm with his strokes in and out of Jamie's mouth and throat;

every time Master had pushed his cock all the way in a blow would land

on Jamie's exposed balls and every time Master had pulled his cock

almost all the way out and stood ready for another thrust, a new blow

would fall. After just two blows the pain became unbearable and Jamie

began screaming a squirming beneath his owner, while still making sure

to keep his lips and tongue on Master's cock at all times.

Jamie's world narrowed down to the intense pain in his balls in

particular and his whole body in general on one side and the intense

pleasure of being allowed to blow his Master on the other.

Unable to focus on anything else but this combination of pleasure and

pain, Jamie's affection for his owner grew and he actually tried to keen

with delight as Master's load filled his mouth and throat, almost

drowning him. Jamie took great pride in the fact that he had managed to

swallow all of his owner's load, not spilling a single drop.

As Master withdrew it was to the sound of profuse thank-you's from his

slave boy. Gratitude, however, was secondary to Master whereas the

ability to take pain, while still screaming and squirming properly was

of much great priority. So while Jamie babbled his devotion out, Master

connected the alligator clamps on Jamie's balls to a generator and as he

turned on the power, sending current through Jamie's balls, Jamie's

babbling turned to desperate screaming and his squirming turned to

thrashing and jerking.

Then the current was cut off and Jamie's screams again turned to inane

babbling only to turn into screaming again as Master began whipping his

slave boy's front with a rawhide strap, systematically covering his

front with angry, red welts. After that he used electricity once again

before he finally stopped. There was, however, no relief for Jamie as

three of Master's men took over, switching between fucking his face and

punishing him. They kept this up for hours, until Jamie's voice broke

and he fainted.

There were endless punishments and equally endless and brutal fuckings,

all part of Master's testing and selection program. When Jamie and the

other weren't undergoing some particular test or punishment that had to

do with their selection, they functioned as house slaves and followed

the silent, faceless, sexless and rubberized slaves around, doing what

they did. Jamie never heard any of the house slave emit any other sound

than small, breathless moans and soon Jamie began to suspect, correctly,

that all of them had had their vocal cords removed. Jamie never saw any

of their faces either and indeed the only uncovered part of any of the

house slaves that he saw, was their open mouths and on occasion a

glimpse of buttock when the brutal plugs were retracted. The house

slaves lived as silent and faceless rubberized ghosts endlessly used and

abused and never acknowledged.

Jamie counted ten of them in all, their numbers ranging from 42 to 67.

There was no indication of what had happened to the missing numbers but

Jamie could easily guess. Pictures of Master strangling rubberized

slaves, holding his cock down their throats until they stopped twitching

or simply fucking them to death flashed before his inner eye.

The house slaves did all the domestic work around the house and one of

their functions was being a toilet and toilet paper. For one week at a

time a house slave would be shoved down a transparent plastic tube, have

his head tilted upwards and a funnel inserted into his mouth. For a full

week he would then function as the communal toilet, servicing both

Master and all of his men, eating only shit and drinking only urine.

After a week he would be shifted to another tube, this time with his

head sticking out and his mouth left ungagged so that he could lick the

asses of the ones who had just used the toilet clean. After a week of

this he would then be shifted back to less disgusting duties and a new

one would take his place.

When it was Jamie's turn to function as a toilet he nearly cracked, but

already his conditioning was nearly unbreakable. He docilely accepted

his assignment and after a few minutes he was locked inside a plastic

tube completely unable to move. He looked straight up through the clear,

glass funnel that was the toilet and which was locked into his throat.

Eating shit was easily the most disgusting and degrading thing he had

ever done. He had been reduced to an object; forced into a painfully

cramped position where his mouth was constantly filled with shit. Master

or any other man taking a dump would look down at him with scorn as he

dropped his pants. Then Jamie's world would go dark as Master's ass

blocked out most of the light and then warm and revolting shit would

fall into his mouth and he would be forced to swallow all if it. Many

times several of Master's men would take up position around the toilet

and take a leak in his mouth at the same time. In the beginning Jamie

came close to drowning a few times, but by the end of the week he had
become an expert at gulping down the disgusting, salty liquid.

After a week he was let out of the tube for a brief period of time, just

long enough to exercise his joints a bit before he was once again

stuffed into a tube, this time as a piece of barely human toilet paper.

While not quite as disgusting as his duties as a toilet, Jamie time as

toilet paper was intensely degrading, perhaps even more degrading as his

duties as a toilet. As toilet paper he was faced with an endless parade

of asses which he then had to lean into and give the best licking he

could possibly produce. When the ass was as clean as he could possibly

get it, he had to thank the man who's shit he had just eaten.

If Jamie hadn't already been thoroughly broken the two weeks in the

toilet would have done. Now they merely reinforced his by now super

submissive personality and thus made him a better slave, or rather a

better object for Master's evil machinations.

Chapter 7

The twelve new slave boys didn't even know each other's names.

Speaking was strictly forbidden and impossible most of the time. The

slaves wore their uniforms 24/7 and this included the gags. The gags

even had small bore holes in them so that the slaves could be fed

through them. Only once a week was Jamie's uniform removed so that Jamie

could be washed thoroughly. This of course included a series of brutal

enemas, even more brutal than the three daily ones he had to endure.

Often Jamie would be filled up with water, his ass plugged so that he

couldn't expel the liquid, while he was forced to blow Master or several

of his men. This was extremely unpleasant, making Jamie sweat and moan

with exertion, something which of course only enhanced Master's

enjoyment of the scene.

At night the slave slept standing up so as to conserve space that could

be used for other and more worthy purposes, wider hallways for instance.

The slaves were led into a tiny room where a large number of dildos on

telescopic poles rose out of the floor. Jamie would be positioned over

one such dildo and the pole would rise until Jamie was properly impaled.

When the dildo was all the way in there was no way that Jamie could lift

himself off it. A chain hanging down from the ceiling would then be

secured to the back of his collar and he would be blindfolded and left

for the night. Jamie had no chance to talk to any of the other slave

boys at any time and he never knew any of their names, since they were

all just called dirty names by Master and everyone else. As he fell

asleep after yet another exhausting day of abuse and humiliation he

could heard the soft whimpers of his fellow slaves as they too drifted

off into their respective nightmares. Jamie's own nightmares, which were

probably about the same things as all the other slave's, were roughly

about two things: inadequacy and frustration. He dreamt about trying

desperately and failing to please Master, a type of dream which made him

deeply unhappy and which ha endless variations: failing to swallow all

of Master's load, not being a good enough shit-eater and so on. His

other main dream was always the same: Jamie, wearing only a pair of

stilettos and completely unrestrained, was standing on all fours as

Master took him from behind. Master's strokes were deep and hard and his

expert hands were stroking Jamie's rock-hard cock. In the dream Jamie

was moaning with pleasure, screaming out his love for the evil man who

was fucking him. A deep sense of well being flowed through Jamie as his

orgasm approached. Only he couldn't cum. No matter how hard he tried, no

matter how hard Master tried, Jamie could never cum in his dream and he

always woke up crying with frustration, futile and useless pre-cum

dripping from the cruel cage holding his cock.

Soon the twelve new slave boys were reduced in number. The first to go

was a slave who drowned in urine while serving his duty as a toilet and

only two weeks later another one drowned in the toilet, this time in

shit. Jamie saw this slave, shit standing several inches high in the

transparent funnel, the slave's lifeless eyes looking up through the

glass.

Two more were quickly eliminated from the race to become Master's new

favorite. These two were not deemed unworthy or disobedient. They were

good slaves, but obviously lacked that extra something required of

Master's favorite, so they were turned into house slaves. One day they

were taken away only to return a few weeks later as faceless, voiceless

rubber dolls, number 63 and 64.

This meant that they were down to eight slaves in the race, a number

that was soon reduced further.

Testing the slaves' stamina was a continuous process and one event

designed to test the slave boys was a gangbanging at Master's club.

Jamie was taken there along with another slave and strapped to a wooden

horse in the central punishment area. He lay across the length of the

horse, his hands and feet tied to the horse leaving free access to both

his ass and his mouth. A whip was placed on his back so that unhappy

"clients" could vent their anger immediately. Then the fucking began.

Jamie lost count after sixty blowjobs and since there were no windows

and no clocks in the dungeon, Jamie had no way of knowing for how long

he was fucked in both holes, but it felt like days. It felt like his ass

would never be able to close again and it felt like his jaw had been
dislocated and his tongue was numb.

When it finally stopped, Jamie's eyelids were glued together with dried

cum and a steady stream of primarily cum was leaking out of his ass. He

had trouble feeling his hands and feet and his body was coved with welts

and bruises, since everyone had seemed dissatisfied with something in

his performance - or at least they had pretended to be so that they

could whip him. Jamie's bonds were removed and he was dumped on the

floor, landing as limp as a doll. Then a stream of piss landed on his

face, washing away most of the cum. Just before he lost consciousness

from the exertion, Jamie's eyes fell on the other slave who had been

gangbanged. He was still tied to the horse and he was completely limp.

It was clear to Jamie that he had been fucked to death.

Jamie soon became a favorite among Master's men for his smooth and

willing mouth, but Master showed no signs of having picked a favorite

among the seven remaining slaves. This made Jamie desperate with

submissive lust. He longed to please Master; to be his favorite and he

tried oh so hard to please him with every little move he made. Master

showed no signs of noticing.

Not too long after Jamie's gang banging two more of the new slaves were

turned into house slaves, numbers 65 and 66. At the same time house

slaves number 57 and 63 were "retired". Jamie was strung up and a St.

Andrews cross, his genitals, desperate from months of forced abstinence,

a pincushion and his body a crisscross pattern of red welts, when number

57 was "retired". The slave followed Master docilely into the dungeon

and stood completely still as Master calmly announced that it had

reached the end of the line; that it was no longer useful. Number 57's
body tensed up and his feet did a tiny dance of desperation as he pissed

on the floor with fear. Although it was ungagged no sound escaped its

mouth, its vocal cords long since gone. At Master's nod it dropped to

its knees and licked up its own piss, before standing up to face Master

again.

While number 57 was on the floor Master had gotten a length of rope and

looped it around one of the beams near the ceiling. On one end was a

noose hanging freely while Master held the other end. Jamie could see

number 57 start when it saw the noose, but it was too well trained and

too harshly controlled to even try to escape. Master the looped the

noose around its neck and tightened it. He then pulled on the rope until

number 57 hung almost a foot off the ground, its feet twitching

uselessly. After watching this for a little while Master took out his

cock, making Jamie sigh with longing, and shoved it up number 57's ass,

lowering it onto his cock and reducing the pressure on its throat. He

took his property from behind, fucking number 57 vigorously while

playing with its breath. Number 57 twitched and danced like the puppet

it was; fucked and strangled for the enjoyment of Master. Strangling

number 57 was a prolonged affair, by finally, after what seemed to Jamie

like hours, the rubber doll hung limply from the rope around its neck, a

thin stream of Master's cum dribbling down the inside of its thigh.

Jamie was completely terrified, so terrified that he had briefly

forgotten about the torture he was being subjected to. As Master turned

his attention to him, hooking up the needles in Jamie's balls to an

electric generator, Jamie soon focused on his own situation. Number 57

now hung as an almost forgotten reminder of Jamie's own likely fate as

Jamie himself screamed and begged as electricity coursed through his

balls.
All five remaining slaves were now in a state of intense fear, fear even

deeper than when Jamie had realized for the first time what was his

likely fate. They all knew that the fate would be decided soon and that

it was supremely unlikely that either of them would replace Manuel at

Master's side. The armless favorite still followed master everywhere he

went, his head bowed in silent devotion, his mouth always ready and his

imprisoned cock constantly dripping frustrated pre-cum.

Jamie was there again as Master reduced the number of new slaves

further. Master was fucking a gorgeous black slave boy's head while

Jamie stood close by, holding Master's drink while he received the

blowjob. As he came he grabbed the slaves head tightly and showed his

cock as far down his throat as possible and held it there. At first the

slave didn't struggle, conditioned as he was to deepthroating people for

protracted periods of time, but soon he began to run out of air.

Involuntarily his limbs began to twitch and his eyes acquired a huge,

panicked look as he realized what was happening. Soon his struggles were

desperate, his eyes almost ready to pop out of his head and his face was

turning blue. As he lost bladder control and died, his feet drummed

unevenly against the floor and his bloodshot eyes stood out of a dark

blue face. Master spent a few minutes fucking the face of his dead slave

boy before shooting his load and dumping the useless and broken toy

unceremoniously on the floor. Then he looked towards Jamie, his eyes

more predatory than ever, sending a shiver of acute terror down Jamie's

spine. But Jamie was by now every bit as well-conditioned as he had

could be. As the other slave had died Jamie had remained stock still,

looking straight ahead making sure not spill any of Master's drink. As

Master now scrutinized him, looking for flaws in his conditioning, an

excuse to strangle Jamie too. Finding none, he instead grabbed his drink

and left the room, the ever devoted Manuel in tow. Jamie had narrowly

dodged the bullet. Master's bloodlust, however, had not been sated and a

couple of hours later Jamie saw Master's men remove the rubber-clad

corpse of number 65. It had been impaled, a huge steel rod forced into

its ass and out of its mouth. Number 65 was being carried away still

impaled on the pole, its lips closed around the pole as if it was

providing service.

Soon the number of slaves was down to two, Jamie and a sweet looking boy

of Asian decent. The two others had been turned into house slaves number

67 and 68. Jamie was clearly in the running to become Master's new

favorite, but he still had trouble believing that he could replace

Manuel.

Master was clearly not convinced either and so he subjected the two

remaining contenders to a barrage of new tests, many of them now

involving oral or anal service under extreme conditions, either while

they themselves were being tortured or while Master tortured others.

Jamie spent several weeks as a doggy slave sucking and fucking for all

he was worth, including two nights as a suck-puppy at Master's club.

When the decision finally came it was almost a letdown. Master simply

plunged needles into Jamie's and the other slave's shoulders and

announced that he had made a decision, but he didn't inform them of what

that decision was.

Jamie found out when he woke up in the very exclusive clinic Master used

for modifications on his slave's bodies. He woke up naked, strapped to

the bed, lying under a black rubber sheet. Unable to move anything but
his head, it took some time for him to decide what kind of slave he had

been turned into. Crying with joy he felt how pre-cum dribbled from his

imprisoned cock, smearing the inside of his thigh. He hadn't been

castrated! His arms were probably gone, but this meant that he was

Master's new favorite!

A nurse in a white rubber uniform with truly enormous tits came into the

room to check on him and when she pulled back the rubber cover Jamie saw

his own smooth and armless body, perfectly healed. Dimply he was aware

that he had probably been out for months while his body healed, but it

didn't matter much. He had been selected as Master's new favorite!

As if to confirm this Master entered the room as the nurse respectfully

retreated. In tow, as usual, was Manuel now looking decidedly miserable.

Master sat down on the bed and absentmindedly signaled to Manuel to

begin blowing him. As he talked to Jamie Manuel opened Master's trousers

and expertly began blowing him. "Well, Jamie," Master began, "I've

decided to make you my new favorite." A hopeless whimper escaped

Manuel's throat, something Master promptly reacted to by shoving his

cock as far down Manuel's throat as possible and keeping it there until

Manuel was nearly unconscious. Then he went on: "Being my favorite will

be much harder than anything you've endured during your training and

selection. You will not only constantly be held to a higher standard

than the rest of the slaves, and as such punished harder as well, but

being my favorite means not only being my favorite hole to fuck, but

also being my favorite torture doll." Now fear mingled with pride in

Jamie's increasingly devoted mind as Master finished: "Don't fail me.

You've seen what happens to slaves who fail me. I promise that if you

fail me in your capacity as favorite, it will seem like nothing compared

to what I'll do to you."

Jamie thanked Master profusely and promised to live up to the honor of

being favorite slave. To this Master nodded with a quiet smile and

slapped Jamie's face leisurely with one hand, while using the other to

fixate Manuel's head while he shot his load.

Jamie trailed his beloved Master closely, making sure always to be ready

for whatever he wanted, whether it was sucking, fucking, punishment or

shit eating. Jamie complied with a smile, relishing his role as Master's

favorite. Manuel was no more and now Jamie also knew how his own life

would end once Master found a better slave boy or simply tired of him.

Jamie's head and entire body was hairless, his mouth toothless (of

course) and naturally his ever excited member was imprisoned in a cage,

constantly secreting pre-cum in the futile hope of being allowed to cum.

His waist was compressed to an impossible degree and he had constant

breathing difficulties, something Master liked, being a devotee of

strangulation. His feet were compressed impossibly by his new ballet

boot with nine inch heels. Jamie's toenails had all been removed, but

still the boots were so small that when they had been put on for the

first time, almost all of the bones in Jamie's feet had broken. After

walking around on crushed feet for a month his feet had taken the shape

of the boot, but the boots were still very, very painful to wear. But

Jamie knew that it would get worse as Master had shown him three new

pairs of boots, getting progressively smaller. In time he would wear

each of them and each new pair would crush his feet all over.

Like his predecessor Jamie wore no collar. Instead a deep blue bruise

encircled his neck, the result of prolonged breathplay with a piece of

coarse rope. It had been a year since he had replaced Manuel and in that

time-span his body, like Manuel's before him, had been covered with

scars and semi-permanent bruises. Being Master's favorite meant bearing

the brunt not only of the fucking, but of the torture as well.

As Master came to a halt so did Jamie, making sure to stand at a

respectful distance behind his owner. As a matter of course he kept his

eyes down, but he couldn't help noticing that Master was addressing a

new batch of slaves, all tied up just like Jamie had been when he first

came here. Although Jamie had lost his sense of time a long time ago, he

guessed that it had been more than a year since he had knelt before

Master like these new slaves. That also meant that it had probably been

more than two years since he had last been allowed to cum. He

successfully suppressed a shiver at the thought. Jamie knew what his

only chance of cuming was and it was not an attractive option.

Epilogue

Jamie had successfully held on to his position as Master's

favorite for four years, but finally his time had come. Master had

picked a new favorite, a beautiful black boy who now stood before Jamie,

poised to take over his position.

Jamie was straddling a narrow, triangular steel beam. A huge dildo stood

up straight from it and Jamie was impaled on this. His feet didn't touch

the ground, but were tied to rings in the floor, putting an unbearable

pressure on Jamie's crotch area. His upper body was strapped to a steel

pole so the only bit of movement Jamie had left was the ability to shake

his head.
He was still corseted and his feet were still in their impossibly small

boots, but for the first time in years his cock was no longer

imprisoned. It stood straight out, twitching desperately.

On his knees right in front of Jamie was the new favorite slave. He had

been teasing Jamie's now liberated cock for more than twenty four hours

straight without letting Jamie cum. Meanwhile Master had appeared at

regular intervals to play with Jamie's breath, reducing him to a

frustrated, panicky wreck.

Now finally Jamie had come to the end of the line. Master stood beside

him as Jamie moved inexorably towards a glorious orgasm and as he saw it

coming in Jamie's eyes, his hands closed one last time around Jamie's

throat. Jamie jerked and spasmed as much as his bonds would allow him as

he struggled futilely, his movements becoming ever more erratic and his

bloodshot eyes moving further and further out of his face, which was

turning blue. The sounds of the world became faint and his vision

narrowed and the last thing he felt was the most glorious orgasm he had

ever had. His limbs twitched a little and Master's old favorite had been

retired.

THE END

If you liked the story drop me a line at story_2nn@yahoo.com

Review This Story || Author: 2nn

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