Little Sister's Slave 15
By Xhumil
xhumil@protonmail.com
Copyright 2022 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:
Shopping slave
Hi Sir
Just keeping you updated as I have been ordered.
Last
Saturday at work was interesting. Jed is starting to get some
regular customers who buy stuff at least once a month, but as they're
regulars he let's them try stuff on me without buying them first.
It's nice to see regular faces doing things to me, I get to know how
they are likely to treat me, and how they expect me to react too.
Obviously some things hurt, but that's part of the job, and I’m really
mastering my pain threshold now. No one is allowed to draw blood
though, that's one of Jed’s rules, and if someone wants to try a
particularly whippy cane, fine flogger, whips or flails then he makes
me wear a cloth on my back. He says its just basic hygiene. On
the couple of occasions people have paid to ‘practice’ without the
cloth Ben has been there to put cream and bandages on, patch me up and
comfort me after. Those sessions are normally at the end of the day
so I have a week to heal before returning to the shop. It sounds worse
than it is, he won’t let them go full power on me, and a maximum of 2
lashes directly to skin. Luckily that hasn't happened in a while.
I
spent a great deal of time wearing different ball stretchers for Mrs.
Fallon, who wanted to buy one for her nephew’s boyfriend. We don’t ask
what customers’ circumstances are, but I was intrigued. She fitted
them to me and had me jump up and down and sway about. The jumping was
agony I can tell you! Jed even allowed her to go round the mall with
me wearing a set to see what they were like over time. They ache like
mad over time, thats what they’re like!
As Mrs Fallon is a
regular customer she gets her own way, and pays for the extra time with
me too, so Jed is happy and she is happy.
She had me follow
her around the mall, obviously I was naked as always, but now with my
balls hanging just that bit lower. She went into the womens clothes
shops, these are mainly in the North wing of the mall, way over the
opposite side to where our shop is. We had to take the shuttle. I
haven’t been over there yet as casper, I went when I was free but
haven’t seen that side in months. I'm not really in the market for
clothes these days so have no reason to go there.
The shop
assistants were all very excited to see me. It's not like we have many
slaves where we live, and certainly no naked ones, so a defenseless
naked boy in their shop is an opportunity they won’t miss. We’re not a
super rich area, and the super rich don’t visit. I guess the
Dorringtons are the richest family, and they only keep E2 as a kind of
livestock, who's dressed more like a butler than a slave, so it's fair
to say that naked boys in the mall are very rare. I know these girls
have seen glimpses of me before, there are rumours in the mall that
theres a naked boy slave over on the upper floors of South wing, and
around lunch time a number of assistants go ‘on safari’ to South wing
near ‘that sex shop’ to see if they can get a glimpse of me. I see
them peering through the window, sometimes I’m on the opposite side of
the atrium bridge helping in the milkyBar while I'm on a break or
waiting for Jed's milkshake order. Our two shops are perfectly placed
for Jeds milkshake addiction. The MilkyBar assistants often point out
‘another hunter’ to me and help me hide while the hunters are all
looking the wrong way. Theres no reason I’m hiding, its just fun, it
feels like we win a point if I’m undiscovered.
Those
that do venture into the shop to find me often get scared of our stock
and their encounter is so fleeting it just fuels the excitement to get
another look. I don’t think I’ll ever get over being naked in front of
people, but I am kind of finding this exciting, and its a really fun
distraction. One day Ben spotted some hunters from the North wing,
they were all giggly and actually in our shop so he loaded me up with
some evil nipple clamps, a doggy tail butt plug, the tightest cock ring
he could get on me and hardened me up before he sent me to serve them.
I don’t know who was redder, me or them, but they got a bit of a
shock. A couple of them stuttered a lot, but one of the most outgoing
girls just grabbed my dick and told me she wanted a vibrator about that
size. The others giggled so Ben came out and showed her some. We knew
they weren’t going to buy any so he started on the range that was 2
foot tall and shaped like garden gnomes. I’m always dreading someone
buying one and asking me to test it, I really don’t think it will get
that far up me before I split.
We had some fun showing the girls
some of the stock, and they took it in turns to hold my willy and get
selfies. One of them took one of my nipple clamps off and played with
my nipple, Oh, wow! It was agony, it always is when the blood rushes
back, so the others were battling to get the other clamp off me, I
squirmed and tried to avoid them, but Ben then tapped my head and made
it an order. “Now casper, stand still for the nice ladies, and present
your nipple. I don’t want to see you flinch or I’ll punish you!” He
said, so I stood bolt upright and bit my lip. One of them removed it
and I squeaked while she tweaked my freshly filling nipple. They had a
good laugh but then they had to get the shuttle back to start work
again, so we both got a kiss and off they went. We just laughed when
they were gone and Ben gave me a big hug after tweaking my sore nipples
further.
So, back to Mrs. Fallon with me in the North wing.
When she was busy with one clothing assistant, one of the others would
be feeling me up. I gave them defensive looks, a kind of ‘get off me
please’ look, but they just took these as dares to do more.
Mrs.
Fallon was getting A+ service from the assistants just so they could
take it in turns to distract her with the others stealing a sneaky
fondle behind her back. I would have thought Mrs Fallon would wonder
why I was suddenly hard, when seconds earlier I was soft. But she
simply regarded my rock hard peenie as a convenient hook. She hung a
number of blouses on it before taking me to the counter to pay. She
must have noticed that when she looked around an assistant would
guiltily step away from me pretending to brush wrinkles from a shirt,
but I think she knew I was being fondled and stroked and she enjoyed
the attention.
Jed only allowed her two hours of ‘field
testing’ and she returned me on time. I have no idea what she hoped to
gain from the testing, no one measured my balls when I got back, and no
one asked me how they felt. I think I was simply pimped out to make
her happy. I imagine, knowing Jed, that he’s planning a naked shopping
buddy service. I wonder if he’ll ever make his son Ben do that, that
would be funny. I am totally loyal and obedient to them at the mall,
but Jed and Ben treat me more like a colleague, we laugh about the
customers when were alone in the shop, but obviously I’m the nude one,
and I do everything either of them tells me and they do actually punish
me for mistakes which isn’t something you normally get with
colleagues. I accept that they won’t ask me "could just….." They just
order me what to do very directly, but I'm a slave so expect it. I
also call them both sir, even though Ben is not much older than me, I
show him full owner respect. It kind of turns me on a little. Ben is
cute, I love it when we get him to try out stock and I get to play with
his privates, but we do all that in private, no customer gets to see
Ben naked. I am the shop dummy and I'd hate to see him get humiliated
like I do.
In the afternoon Jed sent me over to the MilkyBar to
get some shakes, it was pretty ordinary, There was a queue waiting for
the shakes to be made, but after I had paid I set about cleaning their
tables and mopping the floor for them while I waited as usual. I don’t
get paid to work there, but they get very busy sometimes, and as I’m
waiting it doesn’t hurt to help out.
So I had just finished
mopping when I stepped back and this bloke walked straight into me.
The poor man went flying. I didn’t mean to knock him over, I didnt
even know he was there. I went to help him up, I was very apologetic,
I brushed him off when he was back upright and knelt apologising. He
wasn’t very nice about it, he could see it was an accident, anyway, he
blipped my collar. I knew he had done something negative because as
well as making his device bleep, it give me an electric shock as
feedback. I guessed that was like a punishment thing that members of
the public are allowed to give. I seriously need to get access to all
these rules that govern me.
When I got home I looked up some
recipes for the evening and the Compliance Control site flashed a
warning that there was a demerit against me. There was loads of
information about demerits but I had a lot to do to get dinner ready
and the kitchen floor needed scrubbing too, as well as the beds
stripping, so I decided to go back to the info later if I had time.
That reminds me I’d better have a look sometime and see if I have to do
anything about it.
Slave
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From: Jim.jenkins@lorbar.com
To: Casper429@Slavemail.CC
Subject: RE Shopping slave
Boy
Get
and look at it now. Demerits aren’t something you want! Your dad has
been working on freedom and you've probably just screwed his hard work.
Mr. Jenkins
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From: Casper429@Slavemail.CC
To: Jim.jenkins@lorbar.com
Subject: RE Shopping slave
Sir, I’m in real trouble. This thing isn't going away and I'm scared.
Tuesday
night I got home and made dinner, Mrs. Berg gave me the night off as I
had moved everything that needed moving the night before. I emptied
the mailbox and there was a red letter from Compliance Control. I
didn’t like the look of it, but I put it on Dad’s place mat for when he
got home from work. I dreaded what was in it. Dad got home and I
served dinner, I had mine in the kitchen quickly while they chatted and
had family time. I served dessert, I’m not allowed dessert as it's
wasteful on a slave, so I washed up while they had theirs then went to
clean his car. While I was out there polishing the tyres Dad stormed
out with Carrie behind, he threw the bucket of dirty water over me and
waved the red envelope. “What the hell is this you useless little
shit!” He shouted then he dragged me to the flower border and pressed
my face into a muddy puddle from the car washing. I lay there with my
dick flapping about while he continued shouting at me about how
pointless I was. It kind of hurt as I was trying to be the best
slave. “How can we trust you if you assault people in public?” He
bellowed. I had no idea what he was talking about. I think he
realised this and grabbed my collar and dragged me inside the house.
“Mr Larisco was assaulted by your slave on Saturday 15th at the time
16:25:01.345 as registered by his own collar. You will either:
• make reparations to Mr. Larisco
• surrender your slave to CC (Compliance Control)
• or demonstrate a suitable punishment acceptable to Mr. Larisco.
Arrangements
can be made at……” Dad read “Have you any idea how hard its been
navigating your freedom process? Do you even care anymore?” Wow that
was an understatement, I think I’m the only one getting exactly zero
benefits from this current arrangement. He went on to read “Your
freedom application has been postponed for 2 additional months and
unless suitable arrangements can be made with CC this period could be
indefinite.” He let out a huge sigh then held my dick. He’s never
done that before “No one wants to lose you, but its starting to look
simpler just to surrender you to CC. Its obvious we can’t afford a
slave in real life so they’re making damned sure we can’t have a
slave! We certainly can’t afford to pay Mr. Larisco reparations,
unless you serve him for a while!”
“Please don’t surrender me. I
will serve him if I have to, or publicly punish me, but please keep me
with you, don't surrender me! Please!”
“It was a rhetorical
question!" Dad countered "You weren’t asked for your opinion!" He said
throwing my dick away. Carrie give me your paddle……...1!” Thwack “
Thwack Thwack Thwack “ 5!” Thwack Thwack “ 7!” Thwack “ Thwack
Thwack “ 10!” He’s never paddled me before, this was like a machine
gun, the whole situation is obviously getting to him. Maybe I should
ask them to cancel the freedom process if it will make life easier for
him and my family. I’m obviously causing stress. 10 swats on my legs
wasn’t enough to make me cry, but it was from Dad so I was blubbing
like a baby. More from the shame of disappointing him than anything
else. “Get out of my sight and finish my car!”
I carefully
completed the car and re-vacuumed it then tentatively re-entered the
house. Dad called me over to put his feet up. I knelt down in front
of him, removed his shoes and socks then laid on my back to receive his
feet onto my chest just how he likes it. He was obviously in the
middle of a conversation with mistress Carrie. I knew he was still
annoyed with me as he put both feet on my face “....See what the shop
will lend you, or take it out of his pay and buy it. It has to be good
and you’ve got to make it count. Take the Larson boy with you too.” he
said
“Doug?” Carrie confirmed
“Yeah, Doug. he’s good at
punishments, get some pointers from his mother too. We need to speak
to Linda about restarting this process.”
“Linda?” Carrie asked “you mean Lisa? Jenny and Doug’s mum? Mrs Larson?”
“Yea
her!... She’s deep in CC, she’ll know what to do. We’ll host a dinner
party with them at some point or something, the slave can make
something special for it, maybe he can serve them at their house for a
few weeks or something after, I don't know. We haven’t really thanked
them for their hospitality in Clandu yet, been too scared of her
position in Acquisitions to approach them”
“Serve at Jenny and
Doug’s house?” Carry asked with concern “What if their mum tries to
confiscate him? you know what the Acquisitions team does right? Its
the Aquisitions team that want to take him away!”
“yes, I know, and
she has a file on casper, yes, I know, why do you think I banned him
from their house in the first place. I've been living this shit storm
too you know! Its a risk we’ll have to take, I don't know what else to
do. Keep your enemies close eh? She wouldn’t stage a confiscation in
her own home anyway, she’d be shamed for the misconduct that caused the
confiscation in the first place surely?" He said exasperated. "Look
love, I do want my boy back at some point. A slave is good to have,
and as your uncle says, this way we have Scott without all the foolish
boy mistakes. If we want his grandkids we can just find a slave girl
we like to surrogate, get them together and keep the offspring. Sounds
great, and we’ll get exactly the grandchild we want and he can look
after then serve it as its personal slave as it grows up. It doesn't
even have to know casper is its father. But really…... As good and
simple as all that sounds I think I’d like to see him making those
mistakes, becoming a real dad or whatever he wants. He seems sweet on
that Doug, i've noticed, I'm not a complete moron. I don't care if he
doesn't produce grandchildren. I just want my boy back!" I wondered
if Carrie had told him about the child I'd already sired at the slave
farm, I wondered if it had even worked.. "Look, It's nice seeing him
develop.” Dad moved one foot and rested it on my willy. “but I think
I’ve seen enough detail of his development for one lifetime! And I
know you miss your brother too.”
“I don't know, I quite like having
casper just like this, but maybe if Scott wasn’t such a dick I could
put up with him again. I like having a slave though. Do you want me
to talk to Mrs Larson and invite them over? Jenny and Doug too?”
“Yea, all four of them.” Dad confirmed.
I
felt excited at having Doug over, I felt my dick twitch at the thought,
as it started to rise dad looked down disapprovingly. He grabbed it
“You’re old enough to control this thing better too!” he admonished as
he slapped it to one side. I then started thinking about what recipes
I could make, and hoped there’d be at least a week to practice and try
things out on the family. But the thought kept intruding into my head
about what this freedom delay, or complete stall, was going to mean for
me, and also what I had to do for Mr. Larisco.
Dad took his feet off
me. "Come here" He said semi-playfully. I stood up and moved in for a
cuddle but he held me back with an open palm. "Get that up further"
He said pointing at my willy. When I was hard he took hold of it "I'm
not finished with you yet" he warned as he fitted that cock-mounted
scrubbing brush you made. He kept it next to his seat. "You're not
clear with me yet boy, and a little lesson in erection appropriateness
is needed anyway! Get out and scrub the driveway clean. And dont come
back till its done!"
I fuck scrubbed until about 11pm, I'd done a pretty good job but will have to do under the car tomorrow before dad gets home.
I
went back into the house and Carrie immediately took me up and put me
in the bath. She didn't say a word, she wasn’t rough, just matter of
factly cleaned me like you would a tool or the dishes. She just said
nothing at all, even when putting me into bed. I still got a good
night kiss, the kiss that usually seems designed to clear the air,
readying me to serve the next day without bad feelings. But it was
almost robotic this time, she was worried I could tell.
I
was pretty tired at school on Wednesday, Storring and Bamber were among
my punishers again in assembly this week, and they seem to have lobbied
for summing punishments during a week which has been adopted. Meaning
there was no cap on the number of strokes a single person could give.
They were allowed 6 strokes per misdemeanor, but seemingly able to
register unlimited complaints. I have no idea if there was any fuss or
even objections to this plan, I’m not involved in anything like that,
i'm just the recipient of it. Storring paddled me 12 times in junior
assembly and Bamber 18 times in senior assembly. Surely there should
be a limit per session, or at least they should have to prove they had
legitimate claims against me. Well, whatever, I had bigger problems to
worry about. I just bent over in front of each assembly and received
my thwacks with dick swaying publicly on each hit for the audience’s
pleasure. Even after more than a quarter of the school year has passed
no one seems bored seeing me punished. Even those who have held my
dick and confided their problems in me appear to get a morbid pleasure
from this display. I’m getting a higher pain threshold now, but these
boys seem to also be getting a more accomplished swing.
I endured
the school roast dinner at lunch time too, I used to love their roasts,
they’re painful affairs now though, I just have to stand behind Doug
smelling the air while he eats. My apple just doesn’t compare to the
Wednesday roast. The closest I get to the food, after collecting it of
course, is wearing the gravy in my hair as Doug’s serviette. Yea, he
still does that! Just how an almost grown up boy can get quite so much
gravy and stuff on his hands is beyond me, but I must be getting
something out of it now as I got hard this time as soon as he smeared
it on me. I don’t know if it's the humiliation of the act, the fact he
is doing it, or the little kiss he gives me on my shoulder that causes
my rise, but it still never fails to embarrass me when it goes up.
Damien and George don’t ever miss a chance to tease me about it too.
“Up periscope!” one of them said as they both made a buzzing noise. I
half smiled, they're good at taking me away from my problems.
The
rest of the week dribbled away really, every day has a new humiliation
to it, sometimes its being grabbed by year 7 girls. It's a rare
‘treat’ for them to get hold of the school slave, so when one of them
manages to grab me in a dis-owned state they get very excited. I know
my real owners have seen them, but when I look over for help they wink,
or grin. They know the fun will be harmless, and I know they’re
watching, but some of the things these girls want to explore are so
degrading, their age doesn’t help either. I think it's the serving age
gap that's my biggest issue, that's the problem I have with master
Brad, I’m not sure if it's their immaturity or just the enormous
humiliation of serving someone so much younger.
I don’t know
what arrangements Miss Carrie has made with mr. Larisco in the Mall but
it's possible I won’t be able to make it to Sue’s this term holiday.
Especially if I have to serve him for any length of time at his house.
slave
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From: Jim.jenkins@lorbar.com
To: Casper429@Slavemail.CC
Subject: RE Shopping slave
You are expected at your cousin Sue’s for the week, don’t fuck it up.
Stop
worrying about the servitude age gap. You're a slave who has less than
one year of experience. You're lucky they want to 'play' at all. I'd
have thought endless punishment would be more fitting, given your
slavehood immaturity.
Mr. Jenkins
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From: Casper429@Slavemail.CC
To: Jim.jenkins@lorbar.com
Subject: RE Shopping slave
Hi Sir
While
I was at work on Saturday Miss Carrie and master Doug came into the
store and spoke with Jed. They showed him the letter and and he kept
shaking his head in disbelief looking very sad. I caught him looking
over at me a couple of times looking worried.
He took them to
the weapons area, Well they’re punishment implements really, but that's
what we call it, "the weapons". They kept looking over at me and I
tried to not notice. They eventually left the shop and I saw them
outside the milkyBar with Mr. Larisco in deep discussion. It was
approaching 4pm when a couple of people from CC came into the store and
showed Jed their badges.
“Name?” One of them demanded of me
“Casper”
“Primary owner?”
“Carrie Jenkins” I shudder every time I admit I belong to my little sister.
The
other one blipped my collar “Registration number….. Yep, correct.
Uniform….naked, Body style……..male, yep thats all correct. Slave
casper, put down anything you are carrying, hands on your head and
follow us” They then took me out to the concourse just outside our
shop. I had to place my hands on the glass balcony and spread my
legs. Everyone downstairs could see me through the balcony glass. CC
performed a full inspection on me. Then stood me up and inspected my
front, including under my foreskin. I have no idea why it was
necessary. They then did a medical, most of it was just zapped out of
my collar, but they still needed to take bloods for tests that the
collar couldn’t do. I was then walked around to the milkyBar. By
exactly 16:25 I was leant against the glass balcony wall near where
the incident took place and by exactly 01.345 seconds past Mr. Larisco
struck me for the first time across my back with the cat-o-nine-tails.
I screamed, it was agony. I saw a reflection of Doug sit down with his
head in his hands, and Mr. Larisco continued. I tried to make no more
noise for the remaining 9 strikes, but it was hard. Across the atrium
I saw both Jed and Ben watching from the door of our shop. Ben was
obviously distressed and Jed was comforting him.
When Mr.
Larisco had finished I knelt and kissed his feet apologising for the
incident of last week. His exact words were “You only had to do that
the first time to avoid all this”
I was allowed to kneel for a
little longer to regain some strength, I could feel something trickling
down my back, I assumed it was blood. Miss Carrie helped me up as guys
in the milkyBar looked on devastated, I don’t think they’d seen
anything like that before. I was in pain, but strangely more
embarrassed at screaming so hard in front of the people I had been
cultivating as friends. One of the CC goons zapped my collar and told
me that the punishment was complete. I had my back lacerated just
because I didn’t kiss this man’s feet. I apologised and helped him up
on the day too, but I didn’t kiss his bloody feet! That's all this was
about. I thought about it and shook with anger, thankfully my fear if
it happening again overtook my anger and returned my shaky composure.
Too much anger and I’d lash out, thats what made my famly accept
slavery so easily.
Mr. Larisco asked me if I'd walk with
him. He didn't order and he didn't ask Carrie. He asked me. I looked
at Mistress Carrie who gave a bemused nod of approval and I left her
company struggling with each step and using the balcony for support,
but trying to stay dignified, just like Eetu would.
I walked a
short way with Mr. Larisco when it became apparent that he was
genuinely sorry for my punishment. The guy who just made me kiss his
feet and had me lashed for not doing that last week was now sorry for
the pain I was in. People are weird, I can see why Scott avoided
people now. He had some sense, I missed being him more than anything
at this point. He'd have found a cunning way to blame someone else and
get out of this mess. None of that is possible when you aren’t allowed
to use words.
We talked a bit and he said he didn't like the
punishment tool that my mistress showed him but she was insistent on
using the Cat as her uncle said it should be used. He asked me how
long they'd owned me and I explained our whole sorry story. Its more
embarrassing recounting the story of how I became my little sister's
slave because of the wrong photobooth than actually living the life I
think.
We rejoined the others, split away from him and they took
me back to the shop. Jed dealt with my wounds, Ben and Doug comforted
each other, who were both still upset, and Miss Carrie remained totally
apathetic. Jed sent me home after patching me up looking really
concearned.
I'm going to assume there is a good reason why you
both wanted my back cut to ribbons sit, i know its not my place to
question but it seemed unnecessarily cruel.
So I'm on my way to
Sue's now. Miss Carrie lent me the money for the ticket and said I'll
have to pay her back or work it off. I have no idea how I can do more
to work it off, I already do everything for her, and she already gets
all my pay. She said she wants me to learn to drive and drive her
everywhere now I'm 17.
Oh, I became 17 a couple of weeks ago,
yay me! There was no fanfare or gifts at home, despite me putting a
ring around the date on the calendar which someone then crossed out.
The date changed and my age quietly clicked up. I think I made
bolognaise that night and cleaned the windows.
My birthday
was marked better in school than at home. Damien wrote happy birthday
on my chest in first break, followed by George, Dan, Doug and Doug's
friends. Ok Doug also wrote his name on my cock too and the craze soon
took off, and by lunchtime I was covered head to toe in birthday
messages.
Kia, a year 9 girl I've been listening to stopped me
in the corridor with a couple of friends of hers. Kia usually talks to
me in confidence about a problem with a boy she has a crush on but he's
going out with a friend of hers, maybe one of these, normally she stops
me in the halls between classes. What sounds to me like a cute crush
is the end of the world to her. But I listen to her regularly, and she
holds my willy as she talks, just like everyone else who wants 'The
Ear', they all hold my willy when they talk. It's kind of like
twiddling hair only it's thicker. I still find it funny when I hear
myself referred to as 'The Ear' it's kind of nice, almost like i’m
important. I couldn't imagine Scott ever being called 'The Ear', he
only had time for himself. It makes me realise that someone living
through an issue which feels almost life or death to them can be
insignificant to an outsider. I wonder if my slavery nightmare can be
summed up the same way.
So anyway, Kia and her friends
stopped me and held my arms up while they read all the messages, I
mean, every single one. Gently pawing and brushing their hands over me
and pausing to laugh at some, most of these seemed hidden on my
bottom. Like "up yours casper, hopefully soon. Happy birthday Dan".
Kia removed my loincloth for a better view, and to stake her ownership
claim over me. One of the girls notice my willy was pretty clean.
There were some messages on my balls, the twins Lui and Loa claimed a
gonad each, but I only had 'Doug' on my willy, which to be honest is
what I've wanted since I met him. The girls all seemed to decide
simultaneously to put their names on it too which caused a bit of an
argument over who decided first until one of them said “Lets all write
our names on it”. Mel, one of Kia's friends, rolled it about in her
hand and said "I know its big but were not all going to fit. Melana,
Kia and Jillian won't all fit. Even if we do Kia, Jill, Mel"
"Make it bigger then" Kia said mischievously.
Not
everyone has fully encountered me before, and although I'm often hard
these days, it's only a few people who seem to dominate my time, and
some people just don’t even consider making me hard for their own
entertainment. I think this is the first time Mel and Jill have ever
met me properly. Kim took hold of my dick, while the other two looked
on slightly shocked, and gently massaged me to an erection. It's still
massively awkward standing in a hallway naked being made hard by a
virtual stranger, and to make it worse I still had both arms up in the
air making me feel even more exposed.
As soon as I was fully
hard, Kia announced that there was now plenty of room and wrote her
name before passing the pen on. "Don't smudge it" she yelped
"I'm
just making sure he's as big as he can be" Jill giggled as she rubbed
me more looking up into my face before writing her name and Mel
repeated the process. Now deciding there was plenty of space they took
turns to draw love hearts and squiggles before kissing me and running
off giggling to each other, I couldn’t help smiling despite the
humiliation. I resumed my journey to my next class with my loincloth
in my hand and my rock hard cock bobbing out in front sweeping for
imaginary mines as I walked. I didn't see any point putting the
loincloth back on, I was going to drama and I'm no longer allowed to
wear it there.
Almost every message written on me came with a
kiss. Even miss Carrie wrote a message and master Doug took loads of
pictures of me at the end of the day so I could read them all. Scott
would never have had this, and its not just because I'm naked and they
can do anything to me or that they feel sorry for me, people genuinely
seem to care about casper I think. Maybe it's my vulnerability, I
don't judge (I can't bloody talk!), I'm non-confrontational (too
scared)…..I don’t know. Scott was only really friends with Damien and
George, no one cared about him, not like this.
I spent the
lunch break with Carrie, Jenny and Doug, after I served them dinner we
headed for the yard where they gave me a couple of presents all wrapped
up. I was still attracting people to write on me so it was quite a
well attended affair. Miss Carrie told me which one to open first. It
felt soft and squidgy, I guessed what it could be but it couldn’t,
Miss Carrie would never do that. I ripped into it excitedly and it was
exactly what I thought. A pair of underpants, trousers and a shirt.
It was just like one of the shirts I’d bought for Clandu. I couldn’t
believe it. Was I being promoted to a proper serious slave like Eetu?
I looked at Miss Carrie through a tear welling up. “Well, put it on”
she said excitedly, “I’m not sure if it’ll all fit you” I stood up and
quickly pulled the underpants on, they were nice and tight, hugging
against my balls. Now no longer swinging they were held firm,
confined, protected, safe. I adjusted my penis a little so it ran
horizontally to my right, it used to be my preferred dress side.
“Hurry cas” she encouraged as I was straightening the wrinkles out.
Next I pulled up the trousers and did them up. My legs were finally no
longer on show. My whole lower body now impervious to scrutiny. I ran
a hand down those too, they were slightly crumpled from the wrapping,
but it was nothing I couldn’t fix that evening with the iron. Finally
I pulled on my -shirt. I was now a properly dressed boy, apart from
the flip flops, but I’d come so far in 5 minutes we can ignore that
detail. My whole body was now my own. I twisted and looked down at my
bottom and my legs, now suitably covered. Its the start of a new era.
I was so happy, I can finally have basic privacy, my body can now
become my own personal secret, its shape can be for my own pleasure and
exploration, eventually I can choose someone to share it with and give
them the pleasures of shared intimacy. This was the best present
ever. I kind of forgot myself at that moment in the excitement, I
jumped up and down, and ran and kissed her, Jenny and Doug. I forgot
my speech protocol and thanked them. I ran through the group watching
us and around the school yard and back, showing off my new covering.
It made the awkwardness at home over breakfast worthwhile, there must
be a surprise waiting for me there too. A full uniform maybe, some new
clothes for outside chores. I can be like Eetu, dressed and
dignified. George spotted me and ran over feeling my collar between
his thumb and finger “Nice gear!” he said.
I ran back to the group in my clothes, followed by George, and hugged miss Carrie again. “Thank you mistress” I gushed.
“You can open the other presents in the afternoon break” she said as the bell rang.
I
walked into the building proudly sporting my new covering, flanked by
George and Damien, looking equally as proud for some odd reason. We
split and I queued outside my English classroom. No one bothered me in
the corridor, I think I was considered private now I’m clothed, just
like everyone else. English passed by without issue and before long I
was back in the school yard getting ready to open my next present. I
knelt down with them both in front of me, but before I could do
anything Miss Carrie, Jenny, master Doug and their friends insisted on
singing happy birthday to me as loudly as possible. They also chose to
sing at a different pitch and speed to each other. By the time they’d
finished there was a group of people joining in, each singing to a
different timing. It was an awful cacophony of noise, but equally as
funny as it was terrible.
When they’d finished I set to my next
present which was small and hard. I ripped the paper off and found it
was a small pair of round-nosed scissors, they were exceptionally sharp
too. I looked at them puzzled, and looked up at my mistresses and
master, but they were a gift, no more weird than my toy duck from Sue,
so I used them to cut the wrapping off my third present.
This
gift was quite dense, and slightly unwieldy. As soon as I’d opened it,
it was clear who had picked it. There was a carton of custard, a dozen
eggs, 2 cartons of soup and a bag of flour. I could feel the clouds of
doubt gathering in my head. Doug came round and crouched behind me.
“Hey Cas, why don’t you open it all?” pointing at the cartons. I used
my new scissors to cut the top off the custard, soup and flour and
simply opened the lid of the box of eggs.
“Please don’t sir” I
said to Doug, apprehensive of ruining my new clothes. He put one arm
around my shoulder and kissed my cheek. The other hand was down the
back of my trousers, I could feel his knuckles against my coccyx.
“I’m
not going to cover you in all this my lovely slave. You are!” he then
whispered “And Slaves don’t celebrate birthdays silly.” With that he
stood up pulling the waistband of my new underpants with him, leaving
me on the ground suffering the worst wedgie I’ve ever had as they
ripped through the seams pressing tightly against my balls and
vanishing up my crack. “Well, put the soup on” He instructed, and I
reluctantly complied. In front of all my well-wishers I slowly and
humiliatingly poured a carton of soup over my own head. I nearly
gagged. Doug let go of my underpants and pulled the front of my
trousers out. “Go on” he encouraged, and I poured the other carton
into my pants. His hand went in and massaged the goo onto my dick, it
had anticipated his touch and was semi-hard before his hand had even
entered the safe space inside the front of my clothing. Squidging
firmly he brought me to a full erection, leaving the head of my cock
poking out of my waistband in view of the gathering. I looked at him
hoping he’d hide it again but he didn’t, he just dripped custard onto
my helmet then smeared it in with his finger. My cock responded with
sticky goo of its own latching onto his digit in the hope of extending
the attention.
Doug looked me in the eye and directed my gaze to
the flour which he tapped “come on, don’t waste it” very reluctantly I
poured the flour onto my head too “Well, mix it in”. This was utterly
humiliating, the head of my cock was now in full view of everyone
gathered while I destroyed my own hair and clothes for their
entertainment, mixing and rubbing the now gooey mess in my hair.
“Look
what you’ve done to your new clothes” Miss Jenny said. “you naughty
slave!” With that she ripped the front of the shirt open and pulled it
down off my arms dumping it in front of me. “Look at this mess on it”
she said as she poured custard over my head, it sploshed onto the
shirt. “Thats going to stain if you don’t get rid of it quickly“ she
instructed ”Here, get rid of those splodges” she instructed as she
handed me the scissors. I wasn’t sure what she wanted, so she
manipulated my hand to cut my new shirt, my favorite shirt bought for
Clandu, and somehow rescued from Brad. As I set to work cutting around
the splodge she rubbed the custard on my exposed helmet with her finger
just as Doug had. He was busy mixing the mess on my head, I could hear
it squelching as the dough thickened on my head. “Here” Jenny pointed
to a line straight up from my newly developing hole to the collar. I
followed that line with my scissors destroying my new shirt. More lines
were instructed with a simple “here” and point, and I obediently cut.
Finally she pointed to the waste of my trousers, delicately kissing my
lips she pulled away and said “here”. I paused for a second, but with
my spirit crushed I cut the waistband and followed her finger down
below my knee and round to my inner leg. “Here” she pointed to the
opposite side and line. She then flapped down the front of my trousers
exposing the shape of my hard cock strained against the front of my
stretched and torn underpants, its helmet clearly visible to all and
still poking out of the waistband. “Here”, she pointed to the
waistband of my underpants. I looked at her questioningly, this was
all that was keeping my privates hidden, protecting the majority of my
privacy. Her stern gaze back threatened me not to hesitate as she
prodded the position again “Here” she repeated. I cut and my erection
sprang forth into full view. I closed my eyes with shame as she
grasped my hard-on and massaged it. “There, that feels better doesn’t
it. Nice and free, free at last! Can you feel the air on this?” She
asked stroking her fingers loosely down each side. I looked at her and
nodded. Feeling the air on it was the problem, its always been the
problem. I was happy clothed, shielded and private, now I’m fully
exposed to the world. The 1 hour respite I had from nakedness made me
dependent on privacy once more. The safety of concealment is addictive
and healing. Its was like the 6 months of nudity never happened, the
awful memory sealed away, but now I’m bared to the world the sensation
is raw once again, the feeling of humiliation was as powerful as the
first time. That awful assembly of degradation. I want to cover
myself with my hands, but I know what will happen if I do, so I pull
the trouser flap up to conceal myself. “Here” She points to the
flap and I cut another slice down from the waistband to the knee,
“here”, “here”, “here”, before long the front of my trousers and upper
trouser legs are sliced into a comb of cloth. Theres no way of taming
any of it into a privacy shield.
“Hey pup, how about sharing all
these lovely presents with your friends eh?” Doug said into my ear,
squeezing my shoulders and lifting the egg box to a point just above my
head. I reach out and hold the box, the position becomes an offering
stance, and instinctively the gathering selects an egg each. “Good
boy!” He patronises. As I lower the empty box, the first egg is
smashed onto my head followed by a coupe more. Some are simply thrown
at me leaving a bloodied welt where they smashed on my flesh. I endure
the full box of shame, hands smearing the egg not only on my head but
over the whole of my body. My cock becomes a popular target. Before I
realise the change in tempo my arms and legs have been seized and I’m
stretched out for the bumps. The group fling me high into the air and
let me drop down, controlling my fall by my arms and legs. The end my
softening willy hasn’t been informed of the change of plans and is left
momentarily in mid air as I drop, snatched back down by the shaft like
some comedy cartoon character. 17 bumps, each counted out by the
group. At the top of each ‘bump’ I feel more exposed than ever, my
arse is fully on view to the world underneath, and in my descent my
willy takes the attention, waving to the onlookers like a party
streamer. The bell rang and I was deserted once again. I shuffled to
the bin to dispose of all the detritus of my anti-celebration. No one
told me I was allowed to remove the trousers, so I shuffle into the
school building with my lower legs still inserted into the tormented
leg-wear. I enter the German class where Frau Zeug regards me with a
degree of pity. As my loincloth hadn’t been returned to me and the
trousers are unwearable I’m left standing on display at the front of
the class for the entire lesson. She tried to turn the situation into
an advantage and revise body parts with the class. Pointing straight
at my penis she asks the class “Was ist das?” But the reply was the
same for every body part she points to; “Das Ei”, “Die Suppe”,
“Vanillepudding”.
We arrived home later, I was again totally
naked, my trousers had been discarded before we left the school
grounds. The atmosphere at home was weird, like they were
uncomfortable pretending that I didn't have a birthday, especially with
all those messages on me. Well I assume there were still some visible
messages on me, mum just stopped Carrie coming into the house and told
her to scrub her slave clean. Which she did on the front drive with a
hose, washing up liquid and a stiff brush. A couple of the neighboring
girls helped. All those messages of love scrubbed away before tea
time. And wow did those girls scrub my willy! I didn’t even get my
bath that night, presumably the driveway scrub-down was my evening
ablution. I wanted to ask Carrie why my birthday was turned into
something so unbearably cruel and humiliating. I could only really ask
this type of thing when she’s washing me in the bath, her guard is much
lower when she’s babying me, especially when she’s on her own.
Perhaps
the atmosphere was awkward at home because they just didn’t know what
gift to get me. I mean, what do you buy the boy who has absolutely
nothing? …..I’d suggest some underpants, but not after today.
cas
‐-------
From: Jim.jenkins@lorbar.com
To: Casper429@Slavemail.CC
Subject: RE Shopping slave
Looking
at the mall incident, the Cat-o-nine tails seemed the obvious choice
for a public punishment. That bloke didn't ask for service days from
you did he?! So you got off lightly. Don't question me again.
I had a nephew once who's birthday was a couple of weeks ago, but he turned bad and the family was happy to get rid of him.
It's
good you have a biological age allowing a normal boy to drive now, as
a slave you could have driven with a biological age of 15. Thats a
perk you missed!
Why would anyone want to celebrate when
their slave was born? You wouldn't celebrate when your vacuum cleaner
plopped off the production line would you? As a slave you have less
than one year's experience. We could either age your slave usefulness
from the day your collar was fitted, or your first conditioning which
was when you were named.
I guess if you were a truly
exceptionally useful slave we could possibly celebrate when the family
accepted you as a slave and first named you. Maybe we could have a
nice conditioning party for you with the whole family and your
mistresses friends who conditioned you originally, an annual reminder
of who's boss. I'm sure master Bradley would love to help re-condition
you, we could make it a multi-day event, you can prepare lots of food
and we’ll have lots of conditioning games.
Well done young
slave you've given me a great idea. I'll organise something for your
first 'naming day' in a few months and will come up with a few new
conditioning ideas. If your mistress bought that Cat then it could
come in handy for your party too if you’re found to be lacking in your
first year. I bet Brad would love that, he’s going to make an
excellent master to you sometime, maybe he'd like to take you on when
Carrie has had enough of you.
Mr. Jenkins
‐----------
From: lady_Carrie@Freemails.com
To: CuteSue@Freemails.com
Subject: casper visit
Hey Sue
I'm
going to Clandu again at the end of term holidays with my friend. Dad
doesn't want casper to go just in case CC use an excuse at customs to
confiscate him.
Mum and dad also want some time to themselves so we wondered if you'd like to have casper as your slave for a week?
If you don't want to I'll understand and see if Tilly wants him or maybe Brad, but I think Brad would send him over the edge.
Carrie
-----
‐----------
From: CuteSue@Freemails.com
To: lady_Carrie@Freemails.com
Subject: RE casper visit
Hey cazza
I'd love to have him. Is there anything special you want me to do?
Sue
‐----------
From: lady_Carrie@Freemails.com
To: CuteSue@Freemails.com
Subject: casper visit
Oh that's so cool, thanks Sue.
There's nothing special really, Maybe he could be useful to you with your psychiatry course, perhaps you can help each other.
But
remember what a naughty boy he was and can be, so he needs a firm hand
on him. I find public nudity and erections really keep him in his
place, so if you could ensure at leat one walk or act of degrading
humiliation each day you'll be able to keep him in his place.
Most of all he's there for you and your friends to use in any way so have fun.
Carrie. Xxx
**Thanks to Hooked6 for reviewing and providing the birthday clothes idea.
(End of File)