Despite the comforts of his room, Bernard did not sleep well that night. Maybe it was the anticipation of the following day’s events that kept him awake, the erotic fantasies and humiliations he had planned. Or, perhaps, it was that nagging fear in the back of his mind about his as-yet unseen benefactor, that youthful sounding voice on the phone that had made all this possible, and had promised more money to continue this adventure. Where was he?
Although Bernard had no desire to share his new toys with anyone else, he had not anticipated how difficult it would be to keep two young studs trapped in the basement while he carried out his ordinary life. Although it seemed like weeks had passed, it had really only been a couple of days since he first dragged their unconscious bodies to his underground lair.
Already, he was seeing the simple administrative problems associated with being a slave master. It was not just like keeping a couple of goldfish-He had to keep checking and re-checking their bindings, keeping them fed, watered and exercised, which cost money he did not have. He had to work out a way to make them shave their faces and shower (He liked them to be clean and fresh). He knew they would try to escape, and if they succeeded then the police would be at his door or, worse, the two young athletes would decide to take their own revenge on their abuser. This was not how he had envisaged his fantasy playing out.
What’s more, he had planned all his torments and pleasures around the idea that the two studs hated each other, and would find having sex with each other doubly unpleasant, however he had seen the truth now, that the two boys had begun to lust after each other, and he had to change his plans. He knew he could have some fun just by keeping the two boys apart, but he needed to find some way to turn them against each other again. A plan began to form in his mind, and stayed with him as he drifted off to sleep.
When he finally left his bed at around 10am on that Sunday morning, much later than he had planned, he had a throbbing headache and a dry mouth. Maybe he was coming down with something. Not quite the refreshed, energised state he had hoped for on this particular morning, but never mind. He knew as soon as he got back in the basement, his old passion and fury would be re-ignited. He dressed himself in jeans and a jumper, as the basement was likely to be chilly at this time in the morning. Coffee helped him, and he took a second cup downstairs with him to see how the two boys had held up from their night on the black box rig, as he called it.
As he entered the observation room, adjacent to the main room which held his two victims, he suddenly had a strange, nagging sensation that something was wrong. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly what... he looked around the room to identify the source of his concern, but everything seemed to be in its normal place... he put the thought out of his mind, as he had other concerns. Firstly, what kind of condition were slave one and slave two in after their long, painful night? He sat down in his chair by the viewing window, sipped his coffee and stared out at his two prizes.
Kraig and Tyler were not doing well. Both were physically exhausted. For several hours during the night they had managed to keep themselves active, managed to keep themselves erect, resetting Bernard’s fiendish machine to prevent themselves getting electrocuted, but even with all their virile young strength, they literally could not ‘keep it up’ all night. Tyler had faded first, despite all the whispered erotic stories that Kraig sent his way. Full of shame and guilt, Tyler had found himself unable to sustain an erection, resulting in him being unable to keep pressure on the kill switch, which ultimately resulted in Kraig receiving more and more intense shocks.
Kraig, interestingly, had managed to maintain the hard-on longer, but maliciously, for reasons of his own, he had eased back from resetting Tyler’s switch. Even though he could have hit the button, he claimed he was flaccid, and Tyler had suffered electric shocks to match his own. In fact, the sight of Tyler suffering seemed to rejuvenate Kraig’s hard-on, and even helped him blank out the pain he was feeling himself, at least at first. Inevitably, however, he was not able to keep it up, and for the next few hours, the room echoed every fifteen minutes to their painful cries.
It was now nearly nine hours since they had been first tied into the machine.
Bernard savoured his coffee as he stared through the one-way glass. From his perspective, both of the slaves seemed totally motionless. For a moment he wondered if in fact he had gone too far, but then the clocks counted down to zero again, and the two bodies awoke, groaning and shivering as the electrical pulses passed through their skin. The counters remorselessly reset, and Bernard considered letting them run through a few more cycles, just to see how much they could take. Instead, he finished his coffee, left the observation room and entered the torture chamber.
It didn’t take long for Bernard to release the boys from their bindings, as they were in no state to give any resistance – both of them simply flopped to the floor as soon as their bindings were undone. This suited Bernard perfectly, as he did not want to go through all the effort of drugging them. He consulted the schedule he had written for that day’s events against his watch, and grimaced. The milking machine was supposed to be from 10am to 1pm, and it was already coming up to 10.30.
There was a lot to get through today, what with the slaving ceremony, and the tattooing, and his oversleeping this morning had pushed everything back. He had planned to give the two slaves an hour’s break before rigging them up to the milking machine – oh well, never mind. In Bernard’s mind everything that went wrong was the slave’s fault, so they would have to suffer for it. He returned to the corridor, and started bringing the first parts of the milking machine into the room.
It took a little while to get the slaves in position, but the milking machine was ready to operate by 11am.
Kraig and Tyler were secured, on their hand and knees, within a sturdy metal frame. Neck, wrist and ankle collars held them securely in place. The frames were fitted with wheels from old supermarket trolleys, one wheel by each hand and another next to the boy’s bent knees - so that the boys could be moved around the room easily while locked in position within the frames.
The metalwork of the frames was designed to force the slave’s body into an uncomfortable, fixed position, with their naked butt raised up, their backs uncomfortably arched, and their heads tilted back. Seeing the slaves locked into place, Bernard had a mental image of a child’s toy he had once owned - a small wooden horse, with wheels instead of hooves, that he had ridden around his childhood nursery. He wished he had something he could shove into the boy’s rear to resemble a horse’s tail, to complete the image. Maybe he would look into that later. He was suddenly curious of how it would feel to ride one of the slaves as if he was a horse, so he climbed onto Tyler’s back. He felt with pleasure the solid warmth of his slave’s muscular back between his thighs, and he wished he had bought himself a jockey uniform and a saddle to go with his riding crop, so that he could ride this slave for real. He made do with slapping the riding crop against the slave’s thigh a few times. It was such a pleasant sensation, with the slave bucking and twisting beneath him, that he was tempted briefly not to use the milker today, but after a few minutes he decided to stick to his plans.
He left the room to get the next piece of equipment - a short metal stand with a double-ended electric vibrator attached. Using the wheels on the frames to manoeuvre them, he pushed the two boys together, butt-to-butt, with the double ended vibrator between them. Carefully, he inserted one end of the double ended vibrator into the first boy, and then (after struggling for a few moments with the positioning of the boy’s legs) pushed the second boy in on the other end of the vibrator, pushing them tighter and tighter together until the whole length of the device had slid inside both of their arseholes, and their naked butt cheeks were pressed up against each other. The vibrator was long but not very thick – he didn’t want to apply undue pressure on Kraig’s virgin hole, not yet anyway. He next wrapped a short length of wire round each boy’s ball sack and looped the ends together, tying the two boys ball sacks together in a tight bunch and preventing the boys from moving apart. He reached between the flesh of the two boy’s butts, finding and turning on the switch for the vibrator’s motor, and the device began slowly, automatically stimulating the boy’s asses. The groaning and begging for mercy started immediately, but their tiredness was apparent. They were now approaching 36 hours awake.
Bernard had found, to his amusement, a couple of toys in a joke shop, which would increase the humiliation of this particular setup. The toys were stubby cans which, when tilted, gave of a ‘moo’ like the noise a cow would make. He had decided to milk the boys like cattle, so why not make them sound like it too? The ‘moo’ tins were just the right size to fit in the boy’s mouths, and Bernard inserted one into each boy’s face, taping it in place and muffling their cries for mercy. Now, any movement they made, or any attempt at talking, would activate the sound effect.
Bernard laughed to himself as the two naked studs began mooing like farmyard cows. He had also found a couple of cow bells, which he hung around the boy’s necks. Finally, to complete the setup, he had managed to acquire a stubby three-legged milking stool, which he placed next to the studs, and sat on it, ready to begin the task.
He had created an automated machine to pump and suck on the boy’s organs, a machine he called the milker, but he wanted to get the first juice himself, the old fashioned way.
‘There’s nothing like a milking session in the morning to get the most out of your animals’ Bernard said, out loud, to his two slaves. He held up two glass bowls.
‘I am now going to milk you both. I expect two young studs like you are swollen with cum and can produce several loads each. To make it more fun, we will make this a contest. The one who produces the most loads in the next two hours will be excused from tonight’s playtime. He can have a whole, uninterrupted seven hours sleep. The other one, however, will not find it nearly as relaxing. Oh, by the way, I expect each of you to give me at least four loads. If not, you will both need another full night of training. Shall we begin?’
Bernard rolled up his sleeves, leant forwards, and took hold of the boy’s limp organs -Tyler in his left hand, Kraig in his right. He began the process of manipulating their flesh. After their night on the electroshock machine, neither boy was in any fit state to resist – they had both had firm hard-ons for much of the night, but the machine had denied them the release of climax. Surprisingly, Tyler’s organ was the first to react, beginning to swell in Bernard’s hand.
‘Looks like slave two is the first to accept his master’s help’ Bernard gloated.
Kraig’s fevered mind began to rage against his rival. He had suffered so much, and his thoughts had flipped backwards and forwards so many times between lust and hate of his beautiful counterpart that his mind seemed to have overloaded. He stared at the floor below him, which seemed to have burst into extreme high resolution before his eyes. He didn’t know if it was sleep deprivation, or some kind of post-traumatic stress, or if in fact he had simply cracked and was going mad, but he was now just thinking of one thing.
It was not his captor’s firm grasp on his cock. It was not the pain of the cold plastic vibrator which was intruding into him, or the metal harness which bit into his wrists and ankles. All thought of humiliation, or shame, or the coldness of the room left him. There was just one objective ahead of him.
It was the thought of Tyler, and, more specifically, the thought of Tyler’s firm, pert butt. The image filled Kraig’s mind, like a holy grail, and burnt itself permanently into his mind’s eye. He had just one mission now. He would take that Stud, firmly and forcefully, he would pound away at that butt like no man had ever taken another. That was his mission. He would fuck that blond cocktease until he had practically fucked him in half. He was no longer a poor little rich kid, following society’s rules. He was now an animal, and he would chew and bite and tear his way to getting what he wanted, and god help anyone who got in his way. The thoughts of what he had planned fed through to his cock, and it reacted.
Bernard felt Kraig going hard in his hand, and smiled. Now both boys were erect at the same time, and the contest could really begin.
He jerked the two boys off remorselessly, taking occasional breaks to rest his own tired muscles, before returning to the job at hand. He loved the way the two boys looked, forced together, butt to butt, and the way that they still strained and pulled against their bindings. He loved the fine sheen of sweat which began to cover their broad backs, and the way countless little muscles beneath their skin seemed to be fighting and struggling against their master’s touch. And he loved the artificial sound effects which burst from their mouths, every time they flicked their head from side to side.
Bernard’s head cold from that morning was now forgotten. In fact, all Bernard’s problems had vanished into thin air as soon as he started fondling those two proud cocks. He knew they were fighting him but he was in control. His new power was intoxicating. Just the very act of sitting there was creating new images in his head, more ‘pleasures’ which he could force his new possessions to endure.
He got his first load, from Kraig, within about fifteen minutes, a good two or three spurts into the glass bowl. In Bernard’s twisted view, he boy had seemed to be actually enjoying it – he was panting, and moving his hips in time with Bernard’s palm, his body bathed in a fine layer of sweat. Bernard smiled. The blonde was definitely more rebellious, but the dark haired one was going to offer pleasures of a different kind. He had chosen wisely for this afternoon’s ceremony.
He dragged over the Milker, and rigged it onto Kraig’s cock.
A clear plastic sheath enclosed the whole of the boy’s organ, and a lightweight plastic wand topped with a cold metal ball bearing extended to touch lightly against the underside of the boy’s cock head. He had salvaged the vibrating parts of an old mobile phone and rigged these to the wand, so that, when switched on, the wand would begin vibrating the ball bearing, which would begin tickling and stimulating the boy’s sensitive skin. A low frequency electric current to the ball bearing added to the sexual stimulation effects of the device. A separate pulley would slide a rubber sheath up and down the slave’s cock shaft, alternately pulling and retracting the stud’s foreskin. It took a few adjustments to get the equipment properly aligned, especially as he had kept rubbing Tyler’s cock throughout the whole process, but he was pleased with the results. The machine began to auto-masturbate the helpless slave. Bernard left the glass bowl beneath the boy, mounted on a couple of old bricks, ready to receive the next few loads.
He managed to finish the installation on Kraig just in time, as now Tyler was heading towards an uncontrollable finish. Bernard had just enough time to raise the other glass bowl before, with a sigh and a shudder, Tyler let loose with a spurting jet of his own. Bernard squeezed off the last few drops before rigging up Tyler to the milking machine also. After a few minutes work, the whole process was automated, and Bernard could sit back with the two samples he had already taken, as the boys began working towards sample number two.
Bernard felt he could watch this show all day. The two studs were perfectly confined, unable to move apart or even adjust their positions to make themselves more comfortable. The milking machine was working perfectly, the rubber sheath impassively sliding up and down, manipulating the boy’s erect cocks, the ball bearing tickling, electro shocking and tormenting their now-doubly sensitive cock heads.
Although he loved to torment the boys with his own hands, there was something appealing about an automated machine molesting the studs, reducing them from arrogant young studs to no more than components in a sex machine, squeezing out load after load without stopping or granting any merciful reprieve. Bernard knew how hard it was for him to obtain a second or third ejaculation, plus the additional sensitivity incurred after ejaculation, so he could imagine the torment these studs were going through as the machine ran ever onwards, forcing out more and more from the boy’s tired muscles. Bernard’s own cock was rock hard during most of the process, and he rubbed it through the material, but he somehow resisted the temptation to release it from its denim confines. He wanted to save that for later...
Bernard left the room several times over the next two hours, as he had a lot to prepare, but he knew everything was still working, as he could hear the surreal noise of the moo toy and the cowbells. After two hours of torment, Kraig and Tyler had each managed to produce four loads. It looked a pathetic small amount in the bottles, especially as the last loads had been little more than an agonising squirt, but Bernard was satisfied. He intended to make the milking session a regular occurrence in the games room, and he was satisfied it had worked as well as it had. Untying the wire round their balls, Bernard wheeled the two boys apart, the vibrator flopping free with an audible sound. He removed the moo toy from the boy’s mouths, and each one immediately began begging, pleading to be released.
‘You have both done well’ Bernard sneered. ‘But there will be only one winner today. I will let you know later who it is who has produced the most milk today. Now, we must not waste our precious harvest, so it is time to taste the milk, to make sure it is still fresh’
Bernard took Tyler’s bowl, and took it round to Kraig’s face. He produced a spoon from his pocket, and scooped up a good spoonful of the sticky, still warm fluid. He put the spoon to Kraig’s lips. Kraig gagged, and tried to move his mouth away, but the restraint held him too firmly.
‘This is the fresh juice of your fuck buddy. Drink it’ Bernard commanded. ‘You were all too keen to suck this direct from the source yesterday. Drink it all now, or you will be punished’
The distinctive, fishy smell filled Kraig’s nostrils, and he felt dampness where the spoon brushed against his lips. He cautiously opened his mouth, just a quarter of an inch, and immediately Bernard pushed the spoon inside. Now there was nothing Kraig could do. He felt the spoon turn in his mouth, and felt the unfamiliar taste of the fluid as it poured slowly over his tongue. It felt strangely warm and salty. His initial response had been to gag, to spit out the vile fluids, but as it began to coat his mouth, he was overcome with an urge to swallow, to take the liquid into himself. He swallowed it down, and savoured the unusual flavour.
Bernard leant down next to Kraig, and whispered in his ear.
‘You’re probably wondering why I haven’t taken you yet, like your little fuck buddy friend. Well, don’t worry, because your time is coming. You see, the two of you have very different purposes in my scheme of things. I view Blondie as a sex toy, plain and simple. He’s like the dirty little secretary that you fuck in the ass after work. You, you’ve got a different path.’
Bernard scooped up another mouthful from the bowl, and fed it to Kraig. This time, Kraig did not resist. It was strangely not as disgusting as he had expected...
Bernard continued to whisper to Kraig, as he scraped the remnants of cum from the bowl.
‘Sure, I want to fuck you hard, but I’m not taking you yet. First, I want to perform a little ceremony, where you and I become linked forever. Like a sort of marriage, if you like. I will be the bridegroom and you, of course, will be taking the role of the bride. I don’t believe in sex before marriage but I certainly believe in it afterwards. There is a marital bed set up next door. There’s even a place for your little buddy to watch from, just out of your reach, of course.’
This last remark led to a brief curse from Kraig. Bernard smiled; yet again he had read the situation correctly. He decided to twist the knife a little.
‘Blondie really is the beautiful one, isn’t he? Sure, you’ve got muscles and strength, but his are just so much better. Even his cock is stronger and more powerful than yours. I know how much you must lust over his body, so I’m going to let the two of you get as close as possible, so close that you can smell him. But this little taste you are having today, that is as close as you will get. You will never get that cute little ass of his. I may let you get within a few inches of him, so close that you could almost reach him with the tip of your tongue, but I will never let you two rut, ever again. Instead, you can watch me fuck that ass, and jerk that cock. I will enjoy fucking him in front of you, and vice versa. You may get another taste of his cum, but only if I allow it, and I prepare it for you. Lick the remains from the bowl’
Kraig stuck out his tongue, and slurped up the few remaining smears. He realised he was still hungry – he wanted more, but the bowl was dry. He could not believe how much the taste of those fluids affected him – for the first time in several days, he almost felt pleasure.
Bernard put down the now licked clean bowl, and reached over for the bottle of chloroform.
‘Now, I mean to do this properly, so I am going to go upstairs and put my suit and tie on. There is some special bridal wear for you, too, so I need to put you to sleep while I redress you’
Bernard placed the chloroformed Speedos against Kraig’s face, and let him have one final thought to pass out to.
‘It’s going to be a beautiful ceremony’ were the last words Kraig heard before he faded into blackness.
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