A SLAVE'S LIFE, Part 12
By Pete Brown petebrownuk @ yahoo.com
Read all of Pete's stories at groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories
We didn't have long to wait! The door opened and the owner's son and his friend came in and looked at us.
"Shall we take all three up? It would be fun to make them fuck the young guy whilst we watched - we could imagine what it would be like to be taken hard by them ourselves."
"No, we've seen that before on camera. He likes it, anyway - he doesn't mind them really going at his ass.
Let's save him for later for a little private session with just the three of us - we'll do that 'spit roasting' thing we've always wanted to try: you can rape his throat, and I'll fuck his ass. We need to practice that sort of thing so we don't feel foolish when we meet all the new lads at Uni. Let's just pick up where we left off - we'll fuck the two studs again, but you take the one called Craig and I'll take Jon. Then we'll both have fucked each of them, and we can compare notes."
I could feel the degradation of being a sex slave, now. I had no choice in any of this - they were just going to do what they wanted. And somehow, being in London, rather than on the estate, made it all so much worse - I knew that just outside this house, wherever it was in the conurbation, there was normal life. Men like me were going home, or to work, or out to meet their girl friends, or whatever, and all I had to look forward to was another brutal fucking by these young lads.
The owner's son called the guards over, and told them to get us cleaned up thoroughly inside, and then they left.
"Who's first, then?", one of the guards asked, although he wasn't interested in a reply as he unlocked our cell door and just motioned me out, waving his prod suggestively.
"Kneel!", he commanded, and I felt the cold concrete, hard under my knees. The other guard came up holding something metal, and the next instant I felt it, cold, around my neck. There was a little ratcheting sound, and I realised I'd been collared, and the guard was adjusting the "fit" of it so that it was tight, but not so tight that I couldn't breathe easily.
Each of my arms was then taken and moved by the guards behind my neck, where there were cuffs attached to the collar to hold my wrists securely.
"That's better...", one guard said. "Sometimes you slave are inclined to do silly things as there are only two of us on duty. But with your wrists cuffed like that, anything you try is going to fail. Now, get under the shower..."
He indicated an area in the corner where there was a grille on the floor and a shower head set in the ceiling. As I stood there he first of all told me to piss and crap, which I needed to as the last time I'd been able to do this was on the estate. But with my hands cuffed behind my neck I couldn't pull my ass cheeks apart properly, so I knew my ass crack would be a little unpleasant!
The water then came on, and one of the guards quickly stripped and came under the shower to join me. He was in his early forties, and in quite good shape - I guessed he was one of those men who tries to hang on to his fitness by working out regularly, whilst doing a dull, routine job as a guard that really didn't cause him to use his body at all. He had a nice sized, uncut cock, though, and as he came towards me he had an erection. His mate was laughing a bit as he watched this, and told him to get on with it, as he wasn't allowed to play with us.
As we both stood there under the sluicing water, I felt something different - water that seemed slightly cooler than the shower. I looked down, and saw that the naked guard was taking a piss, but he was using my thigh as a urinal - completely unashamedly he was standing there directing his thick stream of piss against my body, so that it splashed over me and ran down my leg. I moved away in disgust, but he snapped at me "Stand still! A man needs something to piss against."
Well, he's right, I suppose - I personally hate just standing somewhere and pissing, as I like to do it up against a wall or a tree or something (or, of course, before I was a slave, against the porcelain of a proper urinal). And I know there's nothing wrong with piss - it's sterile, after all. But even though we all used each others' bodies for sex, it wasn't the habit in our work group to piss on each other - we just did it down the grille - and this is something that had never happened to me before. Well, obviously, not in my former life - you don't piss on your mates in the Club showers, do you? I just had to chalk this up to yet another of the humiliations I'd got to learn to expect as a slave.
As soon as he'd finished he shook his cock to spray the last few drops of piss out, then started to wash me. He seemed to get a lot of pleasure from running his soapy hands all over me on the pretext of cleaning me properly, and he especially enjoyed rubbing his slicked fingers up and down my cock shaft, and then standing right behind me, putting one arm around me to pull me close to him, and reaching down to soap my crack. He paid more than enough attention to my pucker, and he seemed to get a perverse pleasure in continuing to pretend he was washing me as I wriggled and squirmed against him in response to the tickling and itching he was causing me! I suppose it's understandable - it is fun to have another man's soapy body sliding up and down yours, isn't it? And the guard did seem to be really enjoying it - perhaps the poor guy didn't get to enjoy this very often, as he didn't have a whole lot of close work mates as I did.
His cock was really hard by the time he considered he'd "done" me, and I thought he might be about to shoot. But no - I was made to bend over, and he took the shower hose, attached a metal fitting to it instead of the shower head, and I realised I was about to get my second enema.
Once I was painfully full and my stomach was distended, the guard didn't make me jump up and down as I'd had to on the estate - instead he came up behind me, wrapped both arms around my body and pressed himself so close to me that I could feel his cock nestling into my ass crack, then kind of "jiggled" me up and down. I suppose it did have the effect of moving the enema around inside me - or that was the excuse - but it also must have been giving him fantastic sensations. It was good for me, actually, and I liked the way our wet bodies slid over each other and I could tell from the way his cock was jutting and thrusting that he was really turned on by me.
It only took three changes of water before he judged me to be "clean", and by then I couldn't understand why he hadn't cum - his cock had been pressed against me so much that I really didn't know how he'd managed to restrain himself.
I was put back into the cell, and he told Craig to kneel whilst he was similarly collared and cuffed. The guard actually led Craig over to the grille using Craig's cock as a handle to pull him along with, and as Craig was crouched down, trying to crap, the naked guard called to his mate "Are you going to clean this one up? That one I've just done was spectacular - I've never had such a great slave body to feel. It's a pity I couldn't fuck him - but perhaps there'll be an opportunity when those two lads have finished with him. Hurry up, though - get those clothes off if you're going to do it...."
"No - you do him, too. Now you're all wet, you might as well carry on. And, anyway, I'm not sure I could stop myself shooting if I actually got to touch that slave."
"You're just shy, aren't you? You don't want me to see that body of yours - your old lady's been feeding you too well, and the way your belt is straining these days I think you're getting fat! There's no point in being shy about it - you need to get down to the gym, mate!"
"Well you're not the body beautiful you used to be, either! I think you just want me to get naked so that you can fuck me afterwards. I've had my bout of sex today, thank you, before I came to work. So get on with it - we don't want those lads complaining to the owner that we're slacking - there aren't many security jobs that pay as much as this one, you know, and I don't want to go back to patrolling warehouses all the time - this is so much more interesting, and the bonuses are great."
The guard who had washed me laughed, then led Craig over to the grille by his cock. I could see Craig hated it and tried to hold back, but when a man's got his hand wrapped around your cock and your wrists are immobile behind your neck, there's not a lot you can do about it, is there?
As the guard went through the washing, giving of an enema, and general exploration of Craig's body in the same way as he'd done mine, I could see Craig almost protesting - his whole body was taught and on edge, and he kept trying to move away from the guard, or make it difficult for the man to do his work by slightly twisting his body away from the man's hands. It looked to me as if Craig was very close to doing something stupid - kicking the guard, perhaps, or throwing himself at the man. But fortunately his ordeal finished before this had a chance to happen, and the guard again led him back into our cell using his cock as a handle.
The two of us stood there, humiliatingly cuffed and naked, and we watched as the guard towelled himself dry (no such luxury for us - we were shivering slightly as the water evaporated from our bodies) and dressed. The other guard meanwhile had used a telephone to call and say we were ready, but when he put the phone down he told the first one that they weren't ready for us yet "They've sent out for pizza", he said, "and have decided to eat first, before using these slaves."
I could hardly believe it. It was bad enough that they'd had us shipped here as some sort of sex toys for them, but then to prefer to send out for pizza rather than getting on with it - well, it showed just how little value was placed on slaves.
"Mind you", he went on, "It's not all bad - they've said they're only going to use the two big studs tonight, and that we can use the young one, if we want to. So who's going first?"
The two guards then did that thing I remembered we used to do in my office when we were trying to decide who was to go out for coffee - they "spoofed" for it, jiggling the coins in their pockets, then holding their clenched fists out for both of them to see. It was another instance of the way in which the owner's slave-owning practices corrupted everything - I couldn't believe that if these guys had been ordinary security guards working on regular assignments in London that they'd ever be thinking of fucking a young guy as casually as this.
As it so happens it was the one who'd stripped and showered Craig and me who won. Both of them came into the cell and pulled Stu out, and all Craig and I could do was stand there helplessly and watch: not only were their prods at the ready, but our arms were immobile behind our heads.
They pushed Stu down so that he was lying on a crate with his ass over the edge, and "Our" guard quickly dropped his uniform trousers again . He didn't even bother to get naked - he just tucked his shirt up into itself a bit, wanked quickly at his cock to make it rock hard, then advanced on poor Stu. He roughly kicked Stu's legs apart to position the lad at the right height, then started to push himself in. Stu started to shout - the bastard had not even made the simplest attempt at lubing his cock or Stu's hole, and I knew how much it must have been hurting as the guard tried to force himself in. Craig and I joined in, screaming at him to take care of Stu properly, but the guard just looked around at us and said "Shut the fuck up! It's not often I really get a chance to plug a tight young hole - I'm going to enjoy this, and show the lad what it means to have a real cock up him, not some greased-up tool that just slips in. He's got to remember his trip to London...."
As he finished saying this, he thrust forward vigorously, and Stu screamed. We could tell from the angle of the guard's thighs that he'd rammed himself fully home. Stu carried on shouting as the guard fucked him, and we at first kept calling out to try to get it all stopped, until the second guard poked at us through the bars with his prod and told us that he'd be in to silence us if we didn't "keep our fucking traps shut."
There was nothing we could do except stand there helplessly and see Stu raped. Actually, it was exciting in a a way, and I noticed that it wasn't only me who had a complete hard-on, but Craig too. You know how it is - there's something special about watching a guy's ass as he thrusts backwards and forwards in sex: the way the skin tightens and loosens, the tendons flexing behind the knees, the movement of the big muscles in the ass and thighs - they all make you realise just how well designed the male is for fucking.
He didn't take long to cum - well, when you're not lubed, you do get a lot more sensation in your cock, don't you, and that makes it difficult to sustain a long session even if you want to. He pulled out of Stu, and the lad just lay there, chest heaving, and half-sobbing. Craig and I both knew that he tried so hard to be a real man that he must be really hurting if he was prepared to give way like that, and we really felt for him: if we could have, we'd have been comforting him, but as it was, we couldn't even shout a few words of encouragement.
"I've really loosened him up for you", the guard was saying to his mate. "And his hole's all slicked with my cum. Your turn next...."
"No, I don't think so. You know I don't like getting your cum all over me..."
"Chickening out, as usual! What's the matter - can't you get it up? You're always bragging about how many times a week you give it to your old lady... But when you've got a nice hard young ass here, you chicken out. Anyone would think you didn't like fucking.... Are you planning to become a catholic priest or something? They don't fuck, you know...."
"Don't be so stupid! I like a fuck as much as the next man. But I just don't like going up an ass that's already full of another man's cum...."
The first guard stopped pulling his uniform trousers back on, and instead bent down and slipped off his boots, then kicked his trousers off, and stripped out of his shirt. He grabbed hold of Stu and dragged him over to the shower, and now it was Stu's turn to get washed out with the shower hose! The guard was very quick, and a dripping wet Stu was soon sprawled on the crate again.
"There! Don't say I don't care about you. There aren't a lot of guys who'd do that for a mate. Now he's squeaky clean up there - will that be all right for you, you fastidious bastard?"
The other guard didn't reply, but dropped his trousers and advanced on Stu just as his companion had done. And it was just as bad for Stu this time, too, as he'd lost all the cum that might otherwise have eased the entry of the guard's cock to him. In fact, I suppose it was worse - he was already hurting from the first guard, and to have another cock doing the same thing where he was already sore and battered must have been even more terrible.
Look, I know a quick fuck's fun sometimes, but I can't believe either of these guards honestly enjoyed themselves all that much - it was all over too quickly. Personally I like a fuck that gives me time to "play" the guy under me - I like to vary the pace, and the stroke length, so he never knows what's coming next. Even guys very used to taking cock and who have been well prepared can be made to gasp and even shout if you "play" them properly, and as soon as you've got them doing that, you really know you're in control. That's part of the pleasure for me - sure, I love the feeling in my cock as it slides in and out of a nice tight hole, but it's not all that different from wanking. No, the difference is all about making the other guy respond to you, having him totally powerless to stop his body responding in some sort of automatic, animal, way as you fuck him. The guards had none of this pleasure - I suppose a quick rape is OK as a way of showing your power, but why make it so quick? If you have got a guy helpless and totally in your control, then you can really take your time and go the whole way to totally dominate him. Still, everyone's different, and I suppose I ought to be glad for Stu's sake that the guards basically just used him as a means of having a quick wank!
They pushed Stu back into our cell, and Craig and I both wanted to hug him - but with our immobilised arms, we couldn't. All we could do was press our naked bodies as close to his as we could, and gently kiss him and nuzzle his ears. He put his arms around us, and pulled us closer to him, and our cinched cocks beat against each other as we all stood there.
"Christ, what a lot of faggots!", one guard said to the other. "Look at the way they're kissing and fondling. It's just as well those two are securely cuffed, or we'd have some sort of orgy going on. I'm surprised the owner lets slaves behave like that - they ought to reserve their attentions for real men."
I felt Craig tensing as he heard this, and I thought he was going to shout at them, so I nudged at him with my cock to distract him. There didn't seem to be any point in antagonising these guards and risking a prodding. Nothing we said was going to alter things, so what was the point?
Even so, I think Craig would probably have done something if at that moment the phone hadn't rung. One of the guards answered it, and said "Right, you two studs... They've finished their pizza, there's nothing on TV, so they've decided it's time for their evening's entertainment.... which is you."
The house was so big that there was actually a lift up from where we had been kept - the basement - to the third floor, but it was one of those small ones that have been inserted later into the stairwell of a conventional staircase. The two guards and Craig and me were therefore squashed together inside it, and both men used the opportunity to reach down and fondle our cinched cocks as we stood there.
"Bastards!", Craig hissed at them, and one of the guards replied, quite conversationally "Watch it, slave! There's still time for me to prod you, you know - I think those lads that are planning to fuck you would probably like to see you twitching and writhing on the floor first: it might give them some ideas for how to treat you. That owner's son takes after his dad, I bet, and wouldn't be averse to a bit of rough stuff."
Fortunately the lift door slid open at that point, before Craig had a chance to reply, and the guards led us off down a thickly-carpeted corridor. Both of them used our cocks as "handles" this time, and I hated the feeling of the man's hot hand gripping me and pulling me along like this - for one thing it's really difficult to judge the pace properly, and you half-stumble after someone leading you like this.
The room with the two young guys was almost exactly like the one on the estate - big, with a bed, couches and a huge TV.
"Here they are, sir", the chief guard said.
"Undo their cuffs, then leave us."
"Sir, I don't think that's advisable... One of them is really stroppy. They're both very strong, and I'm a bit concerned...."
"Do you mean that they might attack us, or something? They are slaves, you know, and they've been properly trained. No, it will be OK - let them lose, they know their proper place."
"Sir, this is London! I've been to your estate, and things are different there - with those security collars, they know they can't escape. And there are lots of guards always on hand. Here, there are only the two of us, and if the slaves make a run for it, there's little to stop them. Please reconsider, and leave them cuffed.... Like that, provided you keep a prod handy, there's not likely to be a problem."
"I suppose you're right - but it will spoil our fun a bit - I like to bite a slave's neck in the heat of passion sometimes, and with that steel collar around it." He paused for a moment, then wnet on "I know..... "
The owner's son had a travel bag standing on the coffee table, and he went over and undid from the end of the zipper one of those tiny padlocks that you can use to keep them closed. They don't stop determined thieves, of course, but they serve to make it obvious that a bag's been opened.
He came over towards us, told Craig and me to face each other, then pushed our heads together. He reached up, and snapped the tiny padlock through our nose rings, then pocketed the key.
"There! That will stop them running anywhere. Now, uncuff them."
This was a totally new level of humiliation for both Craig and me, to be padlocked together by our snout rings! There was absolutely no distance at all between our faces, as our noses were almost touching, and as we breathed we could feel each other's breath blowing. Craig leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine, but we couldn't even kiss - there was no play in the padlock and snout rings, and we couldn't get our mouths at the right angles. All we found we could do as a measure of comfort was to put our tongues out and lick at each other.
Once our hands were free, the two young men dismissed the guards. Craig and I found that any movement affecting our heads was extremely painful, so we put our arms around each other to steady our bodies. Our cocks jutted into each other, and that was another measure of comfort. I marvelled at how far I'd come - at one time the thought of standing naked, embracing another man, would have been repulsive. And now I thrilled to the feel of Craig's cock as it pushed into my belly, and to the sensations I was getting as mine gently stabbed at his. As we stood there ,we started to run our hands up and down each other's bodies, and our tongues flicked playfully at each other. We were both erect and I'm sure that Craig was leaking pre-cum all down me just as I knew I was on him.
"Very touching! Two slaves in love!", the owner's son said. "Well you're not here for that... You're here for us to take up where we left off. Get over to the bed, and lie down!"
We shuffled towards the bed, but then what? We couldn't move apart, so we went to lie down sideways, facing each other.
"No! One of you lie on his back, with the other on top."
We rolled over, and I was pressing down onto Craig. I had to push my hands down into the mattress to take some of my weight off him, but our bodies were still in wonderful contact along most of their length.
"No! Get your ass down to the end of the bed.... The one underneath is to keep his legs together, and the one on top I want straddling them."
We did as we'd been told, and our cocks were now squashed together, but my legs were splayed apart and my hole felt exposed.
Both young men now started to undress each other, taking a long time about it, constantly stopping to kiss and caress as each garment was removed. As I've told you, they weren't bad looking and, if they'd had proper jobs, working hard, like Stu, they could have had really nice bodies.
I thought that I was going to be fucked dry, just as poor Stu had been. But as one of them advanced towards me, is cock swinging in front of him erect and throbbing, this companion rummaged in the travelling bag and threw a small bottle towards him.
"Here... Use this...."
"I thought you didn't like artificial lubes. You're always telling me that it's not 'organic' to smear the product of chemical factories on your cock..."
"Well this one isn't like that - it is 'organic'. It's as pure as anything can be - something new that dad's experimenting with. Instead of letting all the house slaves just wank and fuck away to please themselves, he's ordered that they're only allowed free sex when they're pleasing his guests, or he's using them as a living sex show. The rest of the time he has them 'milked', morning and night, and there's a little pasteurising and bottling plant been set up - this is the first of the production: pure slave semen, all sterile and hygienic, for use as a personal lubricant."
"You mean he's gong to sell it....?"
"Sure! He's already got big orders from the USA - especially from the West Coast! You know how they like anything new there, and particularly something that's natural and wholesome. It's wildly expensive, of course, and that only adds to the attraction. You'll never be able to find it in every drug store, but even if dad could get enough production going to be able to do so, his marketing plan is not to stock it there - you'll only be able to buy it in really up-market men's grooming outlets and so on. He says it will be a very profitable sideline - it costs a lot to run the estate, you know, and although he's really rich, he's always looking at ways of making the estate as self-supporting as it can be."
"And, as dad says, this is a fantastic product: the slaves were wasting it before: eating it, wiping it over everything, allowing it to dry on their skin, letting it wash down the piss holes... you know, all the sorts of things that happen to cum when you've been wanking. So it's totally free at source, but sells for enormously high prices once its been bottled. Packaging doesn't cost much, and shipping costs aren't very high either, as it's never going to be sold in gallon sizes!"
"Anyway, this is the first proper production. So let's experiment."
Like all medical products, the little bottle had one of those security seals on it, and they broke it open and shook some out. It certainly looked like cum, as far as I could tell, and it felt like it when they pushed a finger up my hole with it on - except that it was cold, and you're used to a guy's cum when it lubricates you being warm, aren't you?
It wasn't so bad being fucked this time, with some lube. And, anyway, I hardly thought about it. I focused on Craig lying under me, and made myself think about the way my body was in such wonderful contact with his, the way his cock was pressing into my belly and mine into his, the way he magically tuned his breathing to mine. Of course I couldn't totally ignore the flood of sensation from my hole - who can, when a thick, firm, warm cock is fucking it? But I was close to Craig, and that's what really mattered to me.
When he'd finished, he stood there looking down at us and playing with his detumescing cock, and said to his friend "Well, it was certainly different! But with them snouted together like this there's one problem..."
"What's that?"
"I like the slave I've fucked to clean my cock afterwards, to lick all the cum, sweat and ass-juice off it.... And there's no way I'm going to be able to get my cock into the slave's mouth with them like this."
"Oh, quit moaning! Let me have my turn, and then we'll bath together - I've got a big bath here that we can both get in. I'll clean your cock, and you'll forget that you wanted a slave's mouth around it after I've soaped it and used a wash cloth in interesting ways...."
"Right, slaves! Move your asses - I want you the other way up. Get moving...."
Craig and I rolled around and shuffled, and now it was me lying on my back with Craig's body pressing into mine. As he'd done, I pressed my legs together and Craig straddled them, and we wriggled a bit to get our erect cocks as comfortable as they could be, sandwiched between us.
Although Craig hated being fucked, I think having me there was a real help to him. I did my best to make soothing sounds, and to run my hands up and down his back as his fucking continued. And, thank goodness, it didn't go on for all that long! I think both young men found fucking on top of two slaves to be a real turn-on, and they just couldn't hold their cum back for very long.
They left us lying there, wrapped up in each other, whilst they went off to the bathroom, and we could hear water running into what sounded like a huge bath tub. Then there was lots of general splashing, followed by the sounds that two guys make as they lie together in a bath and start to make long, passionate love to each other.
Craig and I were still both erect, and hearing these two guys enjoying each other did nothing to help us lose it. But as we lay there listening, I saw their clothes lying in a heap where they'd discarded them, and remembered the key!
Craig seemed particularly stupid, and as I tried to manoeuvre us off the bed, he thought I wanted to try some strange sort of sex where we were going to use our bodies to wank our cocks as they lay trapped between us! I had to whisper to him, very, very quietly, to make him see what I wanted to do.
We inched ourselves off the bed, terrified that the men would hear us in the bathroom, then snuck across the floor to the clothes. It was difficult, trying to go silently through trouser pockets when you have to hold them behind the back of a guy you're pressed intimately close to, but finally my fingers had it. I reached up and opened the lock, and we were free!
We crept to the door of the room, and I was planning to open it quietly and make a run for it, but Craig pulled me back. Pressing his ear close to mine, he whispered "You go on... Get out of here... I've got unfinished business...."
"I'm not leaving you. Don't be a silly fucker, Craig.
Let's get out, whilst the going's good. As soon as we're out of the front door we can go to the police...."
"You do that. In the meantime, I'm after a little payback.... If we go to the police, all that will happen is that these guys will deny everything and get off with a fine or something!"
Well I knew that once Craig had made up his mind about something there was almost no stopping him, and I knew he was so headstrong and hot-tempered that he might do something really stupid if I left him alone. So I gave up on the idea of escaping.... just yet.
End Of Part 12