Little Sister's Slave 10
By Xhumil
xhumil@protonmail.com
Copyright 2021 by Xhumil, all rights reserved
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* * * *
This work is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It may contain depictions of
sexual activity
involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to
view such material or
if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do
not save this
story.
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From: Casper429@Slavemail.CC
To:
Jim.jenkins@lorbar.com
Subject:
casper the Stud
Sir
Theres something
going on at Doug and Jenny’s house. We still collect them on our
way to school in the morning, but when miss Carrie goes and knocks on
their door, she leaves me standing out on the road with my hands on
my head now. This seems to be something Doug has specified. He said I
mustn’t go anywhere near their house. I thought me and Doug were
getting close. Certainly in Clandu, I think about master Doug a lot
lately.
When we arrived at school Lucy met Carrie at the
gate and they talked. Lucy is the other slave owner in the school,
she’s the one who owns Eetu, or E-2 as the Headmistress calls him.
Well, after talking for a bit Lucy invited Carrie to a sleepover one
night. Carrie said she’d ask mum. I guess it’s all to check if I
can be a stud like Eetu. I mean, I know I like Doug a lot and want to
be with him more, but I do like girls too as well. I nearly had a
proper thing going with Kelly too last year, so I know I can be a
stud, just as long as I can have Doug too.
The rest of
the day was the usual round of humiliation but generally uneventful
until the last break. Leaving English I found Storring standing there
with his hand open again. He had one of those “don’t make me say
it” looks on his face so I undid my loincloth, rolled it up and
handed it to him. He took it, grabbed my balls and led me out by the
art room doors.
I was nervous because he knows my real
owners can’t see me, and I suspected his demands were going to get
worse. Also after last Friday’s break with Dan I know my owners
don’t really miss me and seem happy to allow me some freedom to
roam. I’d prefer that freedom was with someone else though. I’d
actually prefer it if Doug was a little jealous of me spending time
with others rather than declaring I can never go to his house
again.
It seemed Storring intended to simply carry on the
training. As activities go it's not the worst thing he could be doing
to me I thought, but this amount of control is demeaning, especially
as he’s 4 years younger. He made me ‘sit’ then surveyed me from
all angles making sure it was exactly as he’d taught me. He then
gently held my balls and repeated the erotic whispering, brainwashing
me. Ordering me into different poses and punishing my balls for
failure. Sometimes the punishment squeeze is barely perceptible but
leads to an instant change in my behaviour, other times it's a
painful crush. One of these poses was ‘attack’, it starts like
‘Sit’ but then I walk my hands forward so I’m almost on all
fours with my back at a slight angle sloping down to my backside,
like a bulldog.
We go through all the set of phrases about him
being my superior and how I must do everything he says.
The
eroticism is so confusing, I don’t know whether I want to kill him
or kiss him. He was less than an inch from my ear drilling some
phrases into me, my answers were becoming quieter and quieter as his
aphrodisiac whisper wrapped itself around me, I couldn’t help
myself, I turned my head and kissed his lips. Why, I don’t know. I
dislike him with a passion, but then the passion took me over. He
grabbed my balls and crushed them. Squeezing each testicle
individually between his finger and thumb popping them away like mini
bars of soap. That was more painful than the crush. “I didn’t
tell you to do that” he demanded, looking pleased with himself for
the confusion he'd caused in me. “Only do what I tell you”
“No
sir, yes sir, sorry sir”
“Now…..Sit!” I immediately
pushed past the pain still in my groin and got into the position.
Bending down he returned to whispering into me as though nothing had
happened. “What do you do?”
“Only what you tell me sir”
He was as close as he was when I kissed him, but I didn’t feel like
doing that again, I daren’t anyway. Then he walked away. I stayed
there sitting, he walked almost back to the door leaving me at the
bike sheds.
He whistled and I ran to his side, he tousled
my hair, bent down and kissed my head and said “good boy”. Yes,
this was humiliating, but I felt an amazing sense of pride in my
achievement. I got it right!
The break ended, and I felt
more attuned to his needs. I understood what each instruction meant
and the consequences of failure, but I still didn’t understand the
purpose of this continued training. I would have been happier if he’d
just taken me and done something awful then laughed. At least then I
can see the purpose of the activity and an end to it. This feels more
sinister, moreso, how did I know not to follow him when he left me
sitting for so long, and how did I know to run to him when he
whistled?
Tuesday and Wednesday brought more development
in the Storring training. I’m starting to get bothered about why my
owners don’t miss me. I’m a little sad about it actually,
especially Doug not missing or needing me at all. So first break and
lunch break on Tuesday and lunch break on Wednesday I have been
caught by Storring and programmed now, carrying out his orders are
becoming second nature now and I’m well aware of the consequences
of failure.
First break was again pure brainwashing. I get
so hard with his sensual whispering, but the thing is so does he.
That little peanut peenie of his pushes his trouser fabric out. It
presses against my side sometimes, he gets that close to deliver the
brainwash whisper. Constantly drilling into me that carrot and stick
training; Do what he says and get stroked lovingly, refuse or
hesitate and get my balls crushed.
I’m becoming more and more
obedient to him. I seem to hear and obey his commands very quickly
now. It's quite scary that this constant influencing is as powerful
as Carrie’s bathtime brainwash. I think I love him too, he’s
organised and clever, he knows exactly what he wants and has a plan
to get it always.
“I don’t see your permanent owners
anywhere and I have your loincloth. Who owns you now boy?” he
whispers, touching my ear with his lips and one hand stroking my
hair
“You do sir” earning a gently stroke of my testicle
with his thumb
“Who can stop you doing what I say?” Dick so
hard it was aching.
“Only you can stop me sir” I was totally
involved in this whisper world, it contained just me and him,
offering him my full obedience, and a full erection for both of us.
My latest reward has been him stroking the tip of my penis. Its nice,
its gentle, its loving. The usual taboo of a boy touching another’s
penis seems to be suspended for me, mine is there for touching,
taking, holding, masterbating. It's now a toy for anyone who can get
to it first. I get so focussed on Storring and his every word I have
no idea how others in the yard perceive us, does he look like he’s
seducing me? It feels like it, I am seduced, I’m his bitch.
By
Tuesday lunch he had me sitting in front of him in that ‘sit’
pose like an attack dog, while his cohorts brought other freshers to
him to extort credits and food from them. I think I was supposed to
scare them, maybe the threat was that I’d beat them up, or just
simply I was a trophy to prove what he could do to a near-senior, a
display of his power.
The truth is it was all bollocks
really, because if one of them got to me first at breaktime I’d be
their bitch and not his. But he’s a clever devious little bugger
and he always gets me first, whether he takes my loincloth at a
classroom door, or one of his gang does it, I end up his. It must
impress the youngsters seeing the control he has over me, so much
older than he is.
On one occasion he made me stand up as
his victim wasn’t playing along. That must have been pretty
intimidating, what with all the exercise at Mrs. Bergs and my very
regular shed pull-ups at home I’m getting quite a powerful looking
body. When I stood up next to this poor boy he nearly crapped himself
and instantly handed over his credits. The whole thing was finished
with “sit” and I instantly obeyed. I don’t know what would
happen to me if I actually did attack a free boy, I daren’t think
about the consequences. I hope I never have to.
This isn’t
me, but I’m powerless. The brainwashing is strong and it's easier
to succumb than fight it. If I fight Storring, I have to fight the
system. He knows how to work the system, he knows ECSO inside out,
something I don't have the resources to research. I have no Internet
access, and am only allowed to read what I’m given. I am unable to
wonder off to the library for instance as I’m immediately ‘owned’
when alone.
I was sitting with Storring being his bitch
when Bamber sauntered over and started sucking up to Storring. It was
the thug version of sucking up.
Bamber knows he can’t
just take me from Storring by force due to the ECSO rules, but also
knows that this boy is doing a better job on me than Bamber himself
ever could. By the end of negotiations a deal had been struck, and it
was a good deal for Storring. He was now associated with a
near-senior in a partnership. Storing gets the kudos and protection
and muscle of a gang 4 years his senior. Imagine the power that
affords him in his own year group, and in return Bamber gets access
to me. After years he's now back in the game able to humiliate me at
will, able to get constant retribution for that fight.
When
break was over Storring handed over the baton of my rolled up
loincloth to Bamber and I was forced to follow Bamber naked, hands on
head, to drama. It's a strange feeling to be in a crowd of people
being completely naked, other people’s fabric brush against my
privates and it's a stark reminder that I’m on display and have no
privacy shell.
I hate drama, if it hadn't been a mandatory
lesson I would have dropped it last year. It's especially awful now
that I'm practically naked. Bamber always ensures I’m with him in
his group for any activity too. All the humiliating exercises are
amplified 1000 times when I'm painfully aware that my cock is lolling
about as I'm pretending to be a log or a fly or a tree. This lesson
was basic dance. Oh god! We created, then rehearsed a small dance as
a set of groups then had to present our routines at the end of the
lesson.
Bamber and 2 of his female sympathisers ensured I
was in their group so our routing appeared to be tailored to
humiliate me as much as possible. As a slave it was also made totally
clear that I had no say. Our dance routine started with us moving
round each other closely, rubbing against each other, followed by a
rather vigorous almost body popping routine, with hip thrusts up and
down and in and out. Bamber made it clear to me that if I deviate at
all I would have my balls destroyed at breaktime. We had about 15
minutes to devise our routine and practice it before showing it to
the rest of the class. Our turn to present came round and we were
stood at the front of the class. our music started and we began. As I
pressed against the others, each one felt my dick. This wasn’t part
of our practice. By the time we got to the vigorous part I was
already semi erect. As I slid past Bamber he pulled the bow of my
loincloth undone meaning it was hanging down giving barely any cover.
As I flicked my waist as prescribed it flicked off my bouncing dick
to a minor applause and then I found myself flapping my dick
vigorously back and forth, in and out. It was awful, I mean I guessed
it would be when rehearsing, but I still had my loincloth then. My
heavily stimulated cock was poking straight out as we hit the section
with our arms going up and down and in and out, I was unable to cover
myself. On the final move I found myself sliding forward on my knees,
hands behind my head into the rest of the sitting class with a full
erection and a bright red face. As I came to a stop one of the girls
reached forward and gave it a little grab to a round of laughter.
Just awful! Miss Stesson clapped vigorously as we all stood up for
her conclusion. She sauntered over in that over-acting,
over-patronising way drama teachers have and held my near-erection
while gushing about our dance piece. The stimulation from her thumb
while saying I had clearly enjoyed the performance brought me to a
full erection. I had not enjoyed it one bit. She said it must have
been difficult for the others to include it so seamlessly and gave
all three of them an extra credit. She added that if I was to embrace
my nudity on stage as I was clearly trying to, then I’d need to
learn more control. She was very slow wanking me at this point, and
watched by a now tittering class she dabbed a bit of precum off the
top of my penis and pulled it out to a long strand. You See casper,
this isn’t going to be helpful on a set unless you are playing
spiderman, so to help you in your obvious ambitions I’d like you to
leave the loincloth and flipflops at the door before you enter my
class. Bamber looked positively bursting with excitement at this. I
think the more often you are naked, the more you’ll learn to
control yourself. “Now, we have about 10 minutes before the end of
the lesson, would anyone like to help Casper to climax before his
next lesson? Mr. Bamber, why don’t you relieve him in the style of
an interrogation?”
After 10 minutes of having my dick slapped
and wanked off in various demeaning poses I was glad to get to Maths.
My meat felt bruised and swollen, but Bamber seemed to really enjoy
the experience. In all the years I’ve known him I think he seemed
slightly at peace from actually touching my dick, no matter how
violently he did it. Obviously drama was a lesson, so he wasn’t
just simply given 10 minutes to beat my meat, no, others were invited
to replay some of his scenes in slightly different styles, but each
one required a firm hold of my member or plenty of slapping. The
final cum shot happened about one munute from the bell when Bamber
showed an unexpected soft side. He pressed his chest against my back
burying his face into my neck while interrogating me softly finishing
me off with a subtle reach-around. I swear he gave me a kiss as well
as I came, but he’ll never admit to that.
So, I
sat next to Dan again in maths, glad to be away from Bamber, and as
soon as I arrived next to him at the desk he just said “woooah
dude, your cock!!” It was pretty red, but at least it was soft! Dan
reached over and held it in his hand "Oh man, it's red hot!"
I knew he wasn't talking serially here, I nodded. Bamber had created
so much friction in our interrogation scene I was amazed it hadn't
started a blaze in the drama room.
Lunchtime I spent with
Dan. It was peaceful and chatty and gave a chance for my angry cock
to relax and return to normal, but his gentle handling of it left it
quite perky and ready for action again. This relaxation was followed
by geography, another class I shared with Bamber. He had me queuing
outside the classrooms hard and on show pointing straight into the
flow of people, he stared at it so intently like its sway is
hypnotising him, like he wanted to grab it again, clearly he hadn’t
had enough in Drama.
Every tap as people walk past kept it up,
kept it swaying, every tap is just another chip away at my pride. It
was a long wait for the Mr. Granger to finally arrive. A girl friend
of his stopped and gently pushed back the foreskin of my erect penis
while chatting to him. She then squeezed my balls, before
nonchalantly walking on. The sheer helplessness I felt unable to
protect my most private parts was humbling, standing there with my
hands on my head. The scariest thing was that she did it like it's so
perfectly normal to peel a boy's erection in a corridor full of
people.
By Wednesday I still hadn’t heard anything of
the plans to go to Lucy’s and was wondering if the deal had fallen
through. Doug and Jenny were now meeting us at the end of their
street, keeping me further from their home. On one level I’m not
bothered, because their mum was pretty creepy; offering to buy me in
Clandu and showing me off to colleagues in that video conference of
hers. On the other hand I want to be more a part of Doug, and being
in his house puts me kind of in him.
Bamber paddled me in
assembly that morning, as always, but Storring showed some mercy by
withdrawing his claim from the previous week. I think this is a sign
from him that I can earn less swats by being more obedient. Bamber
isn’t that clever and doesn’t understand that control is an art
form, however his comfort levels in front of the assembly and in the
presence of my dick has grown immeasurably. His swats were all
performed whilst holding my dick, something no one seemed to question
or comment on.
Wednesday lunch had me being bitch to
Bamber and Storring again, although Bamber’s influence meant that I
was now sitting in front of them, but facing them with my arms
outstretched behind me. Bamber had his feet on my chest. He’d made
me take both his shoes and socks off earlier while I was licking his
shoes clean. He now had both feet rested on my face. “You’re not
licking the bottoms enough” he declared as one foot went down to
press my balls up with his toes.
“Sorry sir” I grimmaced as
I licked harder. His foot lingered around my cock most of the time,
pressing and playing with it. The other foot firmly on my face being
licked.
In an uncharacteristic bout of organisation Bamber
had stolen boxes of eggs and cans of shaving foam to sell to people
to cake me in. It was another step towards total humiliation of me as
payback for the fight, or just continuation of our infants school
relationship. Anything dripping off my head and onto his feet
required me to lick off vigorously, doubling the awful humiliation of
this new chapter.
Look! I know I got into trouble over the
last few years, but this has nearly always just been high spirited
mischief. I’ve never been bad enough to hurt, mug or extort from
people. So although I am now the prime and only victim of this new
venture, I much prefer being part of this humiliating and degrading
activity than being complicit in Storring’s shady and destructive
schemes which only hurt other people. I'd rather have nothing to do
with these two clowns really, but as my owners no longer seem to care
I’m stuck.
Thankfully business was pretty non-existent,
I’m not sure to take it as a good thing or an insult. To be honest,
I think most people were just distancing themselves from these two
characters. Storring and his cohorts splatted most of the stuff on me
until Bamber came up with the ultimate plan. He offered an year 8 lad
the opportunity to splat me with eggs and get foam for free. The kid
refused, so Bamber asked Storring to cake this poor boy’s head.
Storring didn’t need asking twice, and with the protection of his
year 12 buddies, jumped at the chance. Before long the poor lad’s
shoulder length black hair was white with foam, then master Storring
mashed in a couple of eggs.
The boy was then held as a
kind of hostage-example for any others offered the deal. Business
annoyingly picked up after that as no one dared refuse. It's a weird
school, teachers saw both myself and the poor example kid, but chose
not to interfere. I could understand leaving the slave to take the
punishment, something they do all the time, but to not rescue the
poor example kid was pretty shocking.
Doug ventured round
to the old girl’s playground and saw me, he threatened to take me
away using his permanent owner power if they didn’t give him some
free stuff to splat me with. He also chose to get the example kid
with a couple of eggs too. Now I know that he knows where I am at
break time, and I now know he doesn’t care. Worse, he’s basically
given them a license to proceed humiliating me.
Doug saw
what Storring did to me on the 2nd day of term, and he must have seen
my fight with Bamber last year. OK he didn’t know either of us
then, but still, it was a big fight. Why hasn’t he just rescued me?
I want Doug to take me away. I just want him to ‘take’ me again,
I will do anything for him, I just want to be with him. I’m going
to have to risk a punishment and talk out of turn. What if he feels
the same way but is shy somehow? The walk to school isn’t enough
for me, I want some good private time with him again. Like Clandu,
the bedroom, the cuddles. The sex.
I was glad to have had
PE soon after lunch meaning I could have a shower and wash off the
mess Bamber left me in.
PE is now one of my favorite
lessons. I never used to like it, but since I’ve gone all out to
improve my body I now soak up anything physical. Mr. Griffiths seems
to have noticed this too and is all over me with techniques. He
insists I wear a cup for any team activity but cross country and
calisthenics are all done in the buff, I’m normally brandishing a
mean semi by the end of those. He likes to push me to the max
normally, and I employ my fullest slave sensibilities to push myself.
It was cross country today. I don’t particularly like running naked
through the town on our prescribed course, but it suited me now and
allowed me to burn off the pent-up aggression left over from dealing
with Bamber. I’m scared that I’ll lose control one day leaving me
face to face with Compliance Control.
Thursday morning,
after meeting Jenny and Doug at the end of their road, Miss Carrie
got both of them to inspect me, that's not happened before, so
something was up. I got so hard as soon as Doug laid his hands on me,
it was so embarrassing standing there like that on the street and so
obvious what caused it. All three of them pretty much escorted me
everywhere around the school that whole day, even waiting outside my
classes to intercept me, it must have really pissed Storring off. I
assumed the sleepover at Lucy’s was on and all this guarding was so
I didn't get messed up or have my bum filled with chocolate bars or
something.
Neither Storring or Bamber could get to me in
the corridors today and nor could the freshers. It was a bloody good
day.
With my ‘bodyguards’ looking after me so closely
it was good to actually be looking my best when Frau Zeug saw me.
I’ve had a crush on her for years. I think she likes me too because
she’s always trying to talk to me about my homework. I think she
sets difficult homework for everyone just so she can talk to me about
mine. So, normally I try and spruce up a bit if I can before her
lessons, wash the egg or food slopps off of me, that sort of thing,
nothing special, but a little effort just for her. Cleaning myself
risks a punishment for reversing something someone has done to me,
but they mostly forget they’ve done it. If I ever get a chance to
defend myself I could say that an owner or teacher ordered me to
wash. But, whatever…..a punishment is always worth looking my best
for Frau Zeug.
I was able to breeze into German looking
immaculate. My loincloth was still pressed too. German was the last
lesson, so I’d pretty much made the whole day without any incidents
at all which was a first.
On our way out Doug suggested I
use the loo in case there's loads of messing about at Lucy’s, and
suggested I wouldn't want to wet myself in front of her mum,
especially as I’d likely be naked, not a good look really. After
the nappy incident people unfairly assume I have a bladder problem.
Basically Doug ordered me to take a piss.
While in the
toilets I had a bit of a joke with myself. Checking out my look in
the black stained mirror and fired both my finger guns at my
reflection laughing “ ...hey there ssstud!” I’m not allowed to
joke with anyone else, I can’t get to my friends these days, so the
mirror is pretty much my only audience. I adjusted my collar, which
took all of a fraction of a second, so that the CC logo was bang in
the centre.
Despite what this collar represents, I like
it. It looks cool, it's a kind of silvery gold, it's neither silver
or gold, but somehow both at the same time. It's only about an inch
thick too so you can lift it to wash under it, and there is good
movement. Very handy considering how often people like to mess me up.
It's got a smooth curvy cross section which is very tactile, it’s
quite relaxing to run your finger round. Even the D-rings are stylish
somehow. I even like the CC logo too, it should make me mad when I
see it, but it's a nice design and the CC isn’t really in your
face, anyway I see CC back to front in the mirror. The tech in it is
nicely understated, the wallet functions were obviously designed with
nudity in mind. I wonder if Carrie can make it blow my head off if I
burn her toast or something… I hope not.
As we got to
the school doors there was a bit of a comotion. E2 was standing to
attention next to a huge black van, everyone had stopped to watch.
There was a weird air about it. I think because Lucy is so aloof this
was a rare view into her world. There are tonnes of rumours about her
too which fuels anything Lucy-related. I was going to float down the
steps and be whisked away like a celebrity. Shame about the bare arse
and loincloth, but you make do with what you can, and this was to be
my red carpet moment.
Even Frau Zeug was watching from a
good vantage point, she was with the Sociology teacher and a couple
of others from the language lab. Lucy breezed in with Carrie and her
mum got out and kissed her. I waited a moment and descended the
steps.
Halfway between the steps and the van, Eetu
blocked me with an open palm. I tried a bit of slave telepathy-style
eyebrow semaphore but I had no idea what my face was really doing. He
was much more eloquent as he just looked at the ball gag he was
holding up and I knew exactly what he was signalling. I opened my
mouth and he popped it in, securing it before removing my loincloth.
He folded it and slipped it in his top pocket. It poked out of his
immaculate tweed suit like a handkerchief. I wasn’t sure if he was
aware that the sight of it there and not round my waist was taunting
me so much. Frau Zeug could see me naked with a ball gag in my mouth,
and I’ve already started dribbling. Shit!
By the time
that was done a couple of goons from the van had set a cage down in
front of me and opened the lid. It was tiny, wide but really low. One
of them just said “get in” I had to climb in from the top and
laying on my front but in a kind of squat, with my legs splayed out
sideways. What the hell was supposed to fit in this thing on a normal
day. It's a good job I’m supple!
So by the time they’d
crammed the lid down, my legs were folded and splayed out on either
side, my arse was winking at the school and my chest was pressed
against the bottom as was all my junk. I could feel the cold steel
mesh and the concrete against my chest and balls both at the same
time. I probably looked like a squashed oven ready chicken in a
grilling basket. I hoped we weren’t going far, the splits were
killing me.
Worse still, as they lifted the cage I felt
one of my balls slip out through the floor mesh, it just kind of hung
there swaying. By the time we’d got near the van the other ball and
my cock had managed to somehow pop through as well. I suddenly
realised when they put me in the van my bits were going to get
squashed. Or worse still, what if they slide me in? All my best bits
will just get sliced off!
All I could do was stare at the
bottom door edge as the van loomed closer. I grunted as loudly as I
could through the gag. They ignored me. I screamed through the gag
and shook my head. They span my cage round so they could slide the
back in first. Oh no, this was the ultimate nightmare scenario. I now
had a perfect view of Frau Zeug and to my horror she was looking
straight at me and chatting amusedly. AMUSEDLY!
Has no
one noticed my junk hanging out the bottom of the cage? I mean its
big enough. Did everyone think it was a set of castor wheels or
something? If they slip the cage back now and slice off my stuff I
can forget about being a prize stud! Again I grunted and screamed as
hard as possible though the gag.
“Look if you don’t shut up
we’ll drop you and drive over you….little shit” the goon
grumbled.
They rested the back edge of the cage on the van floor
and I screamed as loudly and shook as hard as I could.
Frau
Zeug looked a little concerned at the nose and my obvious discomfort
and started to move towards me….to save me. She was going to rip
the cage open, drag me into her bosom and then take me home and look
after me forever, but then she stepped back again, she was just
brushing some fluff off the sociology boffin’s jacket.
Just
then the goon said to his mate “Get it in the grooves.” as they
jiggled the back end to get it lined up he braced the bottom with his
huge palm, taking an unintended handful of my junk. “Hang on,
there's something stuck” He shouted, as he gave my balls a rough
squeeze. I made a pathetic whimper.
Mrs Dorridge was
getting impatient and called out from the back seat. The Goon had to
explain “He’s waving his cock out the bottom, do you want us to
cut it off?” I started screaming again as he gave my balls a
playful squeeze. The goons lifted the cage onto one long edge and
proceeded to use their fat fingers to poke my bits back through the
grille where they’d come from. No matter what they did it seemed
pointless, what's worse my cock was definitely plumper now than when
all this started, straining itself against the wire square it was
stuck through. I’d managed to turn the whole cage into an enormous
enveloping cock ring.
Mrs Zeug was waiting obviously for
the right moment because then I saw her step forward to effect her
rescue of me, her warm hands on my junk will sort this out. Oh... no…
she took a photo then stepped back. Oh come on! She was zooming in on
it and laughing with that Sociology nerd teacher thing, I can see her
fingers do that pinchy zoom action. I bet I can guess exactly what
bit they were zooming in on too.
The commotion and my
noise seems to have drawn quite a gathering. All they can see is the
bottom of a cage with my balls and cock poking through and my face
bright red dribbling gallons of spit through this bloody gag, and why
does everyone have to look at everything through their phones??! I’m
so glad I can’t get on the Internet, I never want to see this view
of me.
These goons were now my only salvation, if they put
the cage flat my balls are squashed, if they turn me over I’ll
probably hang and rip my junk off, I was totally in their fat hands.
Mrs Dorridge comes round and has a poke, Carrie and Louse
have a poke and even the physics teacher is having a poke. She
jiggles my helmet. Is this to ‘tickle’ away an erection?? Is that
even a ‘thing’? The only one who hasn’t had a poke yet is Frau
Zeug, and I don’t think I’ll let her touch my willy now anyway,
ever! I can’t believe she’s laughing at me. I’m mortified, the
one teacher I thought I had a real connection with is not only seeing
me at my lowest point but laughing at it through a zoomed in photo.
This is devastating, and its not over. How will I ever look at her
again! Or her look at me the same way, she'll never want me anymore
now. Still, I guess if she no longer needs an excuse to keep talking
to me, German homework is going to get a lot easier!
I
picked out Doug and Jenny in the crowd, Doug looked more concerned
than Mrs Zeug did and Jenny was just laughing and pointing with her
friends. I like it that Doug was concerned, that's an encouraging
sign.
At last someone has made a decision, I had no idea
who, but E2 arrived with a bucket of cold water and a sponge. He
makes an arm gesture and Mrs. Dorridge and the teachers step back,
then he pours half the freezing water over my head, and then uses the
sponge to trickle more of it onto my junk. After the initial shock
I’m now breathing again, but my balls feel a bit numb. He starts to
work at me with his far more sensibly sized fingers until he’s got
my cock back up. Then gently he feeds each ball through one at a
time.
With the disaster averted my cage is slid into the
transit rails and I take one last sad look at Frau Zeug’s amusement
before the doors slam shut.
We only travelled about 15
minutes I could probably have walked it quicker and saved some
dignity in the process. But we got there! I was offloaded and poured
onto the floor as a heap in a kind of concrete barn. I’m shackled
and hung up by the arms. I can hear Lucy talking to Carrie about
sanitizing new slaves, and contamination and crap like that.. 2
people in hazmat suits spray me down with some foamy soapy blue
stuff, it smells like a urinal mint and it's in my mouth! And why
hazmat suits? I’m not a radiation leak, I’ve just spent a day at
school for goodness sake, oh...school... maybe hazmat is right.
Once I’m foamed up they scrub me down with brooms,
working into each crack and crevice. This seems to be a proper
working farm, a girl and a lad walk into the barn as I’m getting
scrubbed and retrieve some horse bits, then quietly walk out, both
watching me intently, I dip my head and pretend not to see them. One
of the hazmat men in his massive gloves pushed back my foreskin and
sprayed it with something from a small bottle. Pulling the skin back
over he continued lathering my peenie and my balls, I was fully hard
by the time he was done. Hard and hanging by my wrists. I felt like
meat.
A hose was put on me, its force caused me to swing and
spin as the suds drifted down my skin and off onto the floor. I was
left hanging for a short while as the water drained off so too did
the blood in my engorged member leaving it limp and listless.
Mrs
Dorridge, flanked by Lucy and miss Carrie stood in front of me, she
opened my eyes wide with finger and thumb and peered into them. She
then pushed a finger into my mouth. I obliged and opened it fully as
she ran it round under my lips, exposing my teeth and gums inspecting
each one. Working down she looked over my body, studying the skin for
blemishes, running her fingers over every part of me, but barely
touching. She examined under my foreskin and my scrotum, turning me
round she brushed my bottom with her hand while gently strumming one
of my nipples. “Beautiful” she whispered to herself, returning
her hand to hold my shaft. Honestly Jim, she did say that,
‘beautiful’. “And he has no slave lineage?” she asked Carrie.
“I don’t think we have any slaves in the family tree” was
Carrie’s response directed to Mrs.Dorridge’s back who was already
leaving at speed, waving to a man in a white coat.
The
coated man repeated her survey of my face and body but then then took
hold of my shaft and pushed a swab up my pee hole, it hurt like hell
and another one was shoved up my bum. Both packaged up into tiny
jars, labelled and boxed away. He then proceeded to measure me. First
my chest and waist, and then focussed on all the proportions of my
penis. He was really slow and deliberate, he’d gently hold my
peenie and take a measurement, then walk to a pad and write it down,
return and repeat. I could hear the pencil slowly scratching on the
paper for each description and dimension, sometimes a little drawing.
I mean, who uses paper these days anyway? But its soporific erosive
sounds were not lost on me, I drifted in and out of a doze-like state
throughout, feeling the touch and hearing the scribble, I could hang
there all night experiencing that, and still want more.
He
took multiple circumference measurements up my shaft, and checked for
curvature and foreskin length, slowly scribing each finding into his
book. He even used something to measure the size of each of my
testicles and the elasticity of my scrotum, scratching their
dimensions onto his page too. He gently massaged my cock and repeated
the whole set of measurements while I was erect. Far too soon he
gestured and I was lowered into another undignified heap on the
floor. He crouched and took some blood samples from my arm then left
as quietly as he arrived.
Eetu filled the void standing
over me “get up, I have to fit this” he said holding a cock ring.
This is the first time I ever heard him speak. He’s got a deep
chocolaty voice, totally unexpected. He crouches as I stand and he
deftly slips the ring over my cock and then pops both balls through.
I’m taken, dripping wet out to a field and told to run
round it. I’m a stud not a bloody racehorse! I thought, but I do it
anyway, of course, that's my life now, just do what I’m told. When
I got back to the group, all the bouncing and the cockring meant my
dick looked like a rolled up sleeping bag jutting straight out in
front, it was huge and more blue than white. I’m made to stand on a
box, crucifix pose, and a screen is displaying all my vital signs. I
guess it's tapping into the collar. I mean, why only have a slave’s
privates on show when you can scrutinise his insides too? Nothing is
sacred, I bet all my vitals are as public as my dick. A couple more
people check me over, running their hands up and down my body,
brushing my butt cheeks, weighing my shaft in their hands, squeezing
it and lifting it, then they walk into the house. No one says a word
to me. They barely even speak to each other.
Eetu beckons
me down off the box and into a grey building. We enter a room with a
double bed, a table and some clothes hanging space. “This is my
room” he said.
It really was not what I imagined. I asked him
if this is where he did his studding. He laughed and said sometimes,
most of the time the owners want to see, so there's another room set
up with a viewing gallery. I’m slowly going off the idea of this.
Food is delivered to our room, it looks nice and there's a bowl of
porridgy pudding. He takes the main meal to his table and I wait for
mine to arrive. He points at the porridge stuff and says “thats
yours.” He explained I have a lot of tests to do this evening and
it’ll keep my counts up. Whatever that meant.
We had a
great talk, apart from Dan I hadn’t talked to anyone like this for
over a month. I can ask questions and everything. Apparently the
female slave catalogue he gets to look through isn’t as glamorous
as I imagined as female slaves are pretty rare and only really used
for breeding so he doesn’t get that much choice. He can only reject
those he really wouldn’t be able to get hard for. The issue with
mating slaves is the risk of inbreeding due to the limited number of
slaves in circulation. Only the rich can afford slaves after all. As
appealing as it might be to fuck your slave no one wants their own
offspring to become a slave. To avoid inbreeding within the limited
stock, the super rich insist on pedigree slave studs which helps keep
Kelly’s farm going, along with training, correctional services and
horses! Slavery is more of a sideline to horses currently, but as
Eetu can work on the farm he has a double role.
I’m not
sure what pedigree I am. Eetu isn’t pedigree, but from an obscure
lineage, meaning currently his genes are not at risk of inbreeding
yet, not in this part of the world anyway.
Do you think
this is why CC is keen to enslave free boys like me uncle Jim, to get
fresh genes, or just more slaves?
Eetu laughed about the
cage incident earlier, and said the adult cage got run over and the
only thing available to bring me today was the kids coffin cage. He
said they were lucky I fitted in otherwise I’d have had to sit
loose on the van floor. He then asked if I was OK now. I told him I
was fine and it was just one more humiliation in my life of shame. He
kind of agreed and said he thought I had it pretty bad at the moment.
Up until a month ago I never thought I’d hear a slave tell me that
I had it tough. Bloody hell, only 1 month, and its 8 weeks minimum
for my freedom papers to come through. Have you heard anything from
dad about that uncle Jim?
Eetu explained that his mum was
a slave to a lovely family. They loved his mother and as a gift for
her on his 7th birthday they filled out the freedom papers for him
and were going to raise him themselves so his mum could watch him
grow up. His mum would tell him the plan every night. It seemed to
take ages for the papers to be authorised, but before they were
processed people from CC came and confiscated him with charges of
improper slave management. When I asked what the CC people were like
he just said there were 3 of them, but he’ll never forget the
woman, she was the leader. When I asked what she was like he said it
was hard to describe her, but think of a kind of older version of
Jenny.
“That's what she looked like” he said “I get
chills everytime I see Jenny”. He got conditioned in some awful
place, it was brutal, and finally sold to the stud farm where he was
trained to serve Lucy, and eventually, when old enough, was tested
and made into a stud. It sounds like Lucy’s family is nice
though.
By the time he’d told his story someone came and
took me to the main house. I was made to stand hands on head with my
back to a big fireplace facing Jenny, Louise and the others all
sitting at a large dining table looking straight at me. It looked
like they’d just finished eating and had dirty plates in front of
them. I don’t know what they ate, but it smelt a lot better than
mine for sure.
A young girl was positioned next to me, she
was wearing a bikini type thing. One of the men that inspected me
told me to remove her clothes and breed with her. I was a bit lost
really, it seemed weird. Louise said in a kind of loud whisper
“Casper, have sex with her on the rug” It was all a bit odd. With
them watching. I know I was standing naked in front of a dinner party
which is odd for most people, but now I had to go one level odder
than that and have my first ever intercorse with a girl in front of
them too.
“We’ve got a charged cattle prod if you’d
rather have sex with that” the man said. I turned to the girl and
started running my hands up her body, she had really soft skin. I
glanced over at Carrie who gave me a pleading-encouraging-appologetic
smile.
The girl held my dick and gently squeezed it. It
was slowly whirring into life and hardening up,
She was quite
pretty after all, but the environment was just so wrong. I unbuttoned
her bikini top to the sound of plates being cleared from the table
and then we knelt. We cuddled for a bit, I was desperately trying to
clear the idea of the dinner party out of my head when dessert
arrived and the bowls and spoons all clanked again. The only thing I
could do was close my eyes and bury my face in her neck. The sweet
smell helped transport me somewhere else a little, but far enough to
forget this surrounding.
Through all the distractions I
slowly became erect. I decided to position her like Yurgen had me in
Clandu. I held her hands above her head, and lowering gently smelt
her cleavage. It was warm and sweet smelling too, as I swung slowly
forward I was ready, I positioned the end of my penis against her and
slowly pushed it into place. I carefully probed it pushing a little
then retracting, just as Yurgen had to me. With each probe I reached
deeper, and deeper then eventually I was fully in. It was warm and
soft, I retracted a little then thrust. I repeated, then kissed her
gently and repeated again, and again, each time with more distance, I
lost myself in the rhythm, the feeling of her wrapped tightly around
my shaft and eventually I tensed and moaned and it was over. It was a
wonderful feeling, but not how I expected my virginity to be
broken.
There was complete silence from the dinner table,
not even a whoop, or ‘well done’. It was deafeningly quiet for a
few seconds then a boring voice said “so what do you think of the
new farm in….” no cheer, no fanfare, no fireworks, no parade, not
even a comment about my performance! I looked up and no one was
looking, well apart from Carrie and Lucy, but Lucy quickly lost
interest and looked away. Carrie looked because she had nowhere else
to look, she was as out of place as I was. The fact that she was
there at all on this milestone activity in my life was partly
comforting, but mostly mortifying.
I was led back to
Eetu’s room. He was now in just a pair of briefs. As he washed me
down he said its not always that bad, its normally quiet and set up
for them to have sex easily. He thought they were testing to see if I
can perform in a bad environment. That was a horrific environment. He
explained we’ve got a broken night ahead so needed to get to sleep,
motioning that we must share a bed. This was fine by me.
This
is a night of firsts, first voice from Eetu, first girl-sex, and now
first time I’ve seen him out of the tweeds. He has got an amazing
body. We got into bed and he let me cuddle up to him. We talked a bit
more and then he killed the light and we slept.
An alarm
went off at 2am and I awoke to Eetu shaking me telling me we had to
get up. He led me down a dark corridor to a room and flicked on the
lights. My eyes were bleary and the brightness stung. He sat me on a
table and said “This should be quick, they want another sample from
you and then we can get back to bed.” I guessed exactly what the
sample would be, and had already got myself hard before he’d got a
sample jar. A little more shuffling and it was filled and the lid was
on. He stood in front of me, gently cleaned my dick then pressed my
head against his chest and kissed the top of my head. “It's nice to
have you here” he said. After a minute or two holding each other we
dropped the sample in the fridge as we made our way back to his bed.
Cas
---------------
From:
Jim.jenkins@lorbar.com
To: Casper429@SlavemailCC
Subject:
RE Casper the stud
boy
Oh you little stud! E2’s
story doesn’t sound very nice, can you see why you must always
behave and not give CC any chances to take you? Learn to do what you
are told and obey everyone. That goes for the Storring boy, he sounds
like he could cause you a lot of trouble if you’re not careful.
If
Storring’s empire is busted you will be the first, and probably the
only one to face CC and it will be bad. Try and be cleverer than him,
I know you are. Get out while you can, but obey him while you’re
trapped.
We should be getting the results of your tests
soon which will be interesting.
J
(End of File)