Bernard’s usual reserve and patience was exhausted by the spectacular show he had just created– he had planned to carry on into the night but what he had just seen had him balanced right on the tip or orgasm. Yanking down his overalls, he pointed his cock directly towards Kraig’s heaving chest. It only took a couple of swift rubs, and his spunk shot over the boy’s chest and face, a much more healthy spurt than he had seen for years. He loved the way the boy tensed up as the fluids hit, and he sat for a few moments, watching as the semi transparent goo dripped slowly down the boy’s chest, listening to the heavy breathing, the groans and the sobs.
He ran his finger along Kraig’s chest, gathering up a few fingers worth of semen, and, grabbing each boy’s hair in turn, he smeared it onto their lips.
‘Remember this taste’ he said. ‘This is the nectar of the gods, and you will learn to treat it as such’
He sat back on the floor, satisfied, and reached for a bottle of a chloroform-like substance – it was time to move the boys to a new position. He poured the solution onto the abandoned Speedos and, one at a time, clamped the Speedos over the slave’s faces. They struggled against the toxic smell, but soon passed into unconsciousness. They would be out for hours, and Bernard could spend his time moving them to their new permanent homes in the basement.
That night, no one slept very well. Tyler woke first from the drug-induced sleep, at first hoping it had been a nightmare, and then realising the truth when he realised he was bound and tied to a bed in some sort of dingy basement. He was lying on his back, spread-eagled, his wrists and ankles tied to the four corners of the double bed frame. The mattress beneath him felt clingy and cold, in fact the whole room felt chilly.
There were no sheets or blankets. He was still wearing his sweaty gym shorts and singlet, but they were no protection against the cold. What’s more, the whip marks on his skin were buzzing and aching with a dull burning sensation that caused him to twitch about uncomfortably, unable to find a place to lie where they did not ache. A row of bright 100w bulbs lit the room.
Across the room, he could see the prone figure of Kraig, lying on his back on a filthy mattress, also tied, spread-eagled to a metal bed frame. He noticed that both bed frames had shorter legs at the foot end than the head end, so they were not lying level , and he could see Kraig’s totally naked body clearly. He appeared to be sleeping or unconscious.
The details of what had happened began to come back to him, and he began to sob and wail, quietly to himself. He remembered the vivid experience with his enemy’s cock, and realised the dry taste of it was still on his tongue and in his mouth. He coughed and dry=retched, but it would not go away. He could also remember that finger, that sticky, callused finger, that had first explored inside the rim of his arse, and had later ... oh, god... later had brought a blob of its masters own sticky expulsions and smeared it across his defenceless lips. He realised while he had slept, his tongue had licked his lips clean, in fact the tongue was doing its job right now, dabbing its tip on his lower lip. He sucked it back into his mouth in disgust, but knew the damage had been done. He had now swallowed two men’s cum in one night. He felt ashamed and disgusted – he had to get out of here!
He began fighting his bindings, twisting and turning, trying to pull free. It was futile. But he was not going to give up yet.
Upstairs in the caretaker’s flat, Bernard also could not sleep. He was buzzing with adrenaline from the fun of just a few hours ago, but had told himself to ration his prizes, why stuff himself with sweets and feel sick when he could take them slowly, over weeks and months? Also, he had to work tomorrow, the mystery voice had said he should, to remove any suspicion from him when they come looking. It made sense, but at the same time, he wanted to get on with the Olympics he had planned downstairs.
He also wondered when the voice from the phone would contact him again. He was sure that the voice would want to get some of the action, but also the voice had promised him more money, to cover the costs of food and other expenses for this operation. Bernard did not want the guy to call again, but he needed the money, and soon.
A crackle and a buzz from his bedside cupboard brought him out of his waking dream. He had set up a CCTV camera and a baby monitor in the room, so that he could monitor his prize all night long on their first night. The lights on the baby monitor were now flickering, and a crackly, distorted noise came from the speaker. He flicked on the TV monitor, and, as the old tube TV came to life, he saw a birds-eye view of the basement room. He saw that the blond one was awake, struggling against his bindings. He looked at the alarm clock – 4.30am.
Fuck it, he thought. I’m not going to sleep tonight, anyway. Blondie hasn’t come yet, anyway, it’s time for him to join the party.
He grabbed some items from his box of equipment and marched downstairs.
Tyler was tugging and pulling at his leather wrist bindings when the door to the basement room flew open and the abuser stepped in, slamming it behind him.
‘Your sexy body has kept me awake’, he shouted, ‘And I have work to do tomorrow. It’s time for you to learn some respect’
Tyler stared over at the sweaty man, and all the humiliation, all the fear of the last few hours welled up within him
‘Fuck You!!! Get me the fuck out of here, you fucking pervert’ He screamed.
Bernard marched over to the bed, and quickly and roughly wedged a cloth into Tyler’s mouth, sticking it in place with gaffer tape.
‘You have a foul mouth, slave, and you haven’t learnt anything from yesterday’s session. Well, we’re going to have to go a bit further then, aren’t we?’
As if to illustrate the point, Bernard picked up some of the items he had brought down from his special supply, and displayed them to Tyler’s angry and frightened eyes. The familiar riding crop was there, along with a strange plastic implement, difficult to describe, it looked like one of those long handled brushes you use to scrub your back in the bath, only with all the bristles taken off. Thirdly, he displayed a home-made item. Tyler had no idea what it would be used for. It consisted of two short pieces of wood, hinged together like a movie clapperboard, and about the same size. Two semi-circular cut-outs, one in each piece, formed a single circular hole when the two pieces were closed together, like a tiny medieval stocks. The hole was only a couple of centimetres across. There was also a catch to keep the two halves locked together once they were closed.
Bernard closed the mini stocks and put a couple of fingers through the hole, for Tyler to see. ‘Guess what goes in here?’ He leered.
Bernard had been looking forward to this boy most of all. The other boy was spectacular, no doubt about it, but this one, there was something about his rough, cocky demeanour that made him all the more hot. He put down his tools, and began to unwrap his new toy. First the singlet was torn up the front and opened, to reveal that rippling, strong torso. Next, the shorts. He pulled a knife from his pocket, made sure the boy saw it clearly, and then descended on the crotch.
The boy bucked and struggled fiercely, afraid of Bernard’s intentions with the knife, but Bernard just cut away the shorts roughly, and pulled away the material to reveal the slave’s cock, still long and impressive despite being flaccid. Bernard fondled and stroked the organ, ignoring the boy’s obvious protests. There was no subtlety in his approach, he just kneaded and rubbed at the flesh harshly.
After about ten minutes, Bernard was getting annoyed. He had got the other one hard so quickly, so what was wrong with this one? He looked at the boy’s face, but the eyes were closed.
Tyler was thinking about anything at all, anything to get his mind away from the sensation of the fingers manipulating his most private flesh. He would not give in to this abuser. He was a man, he would not let this pervert break him.
He was snapped out from his private mental state by a firm slap across the face. His eyes flicked open, to see his abuser, red faced, glaring down at him. The abuser rained another, un-necessary slap onto his other cheek. Tyler’s eyes blazed with anger and defiance.
‘You will learn to become immediately erect at your master’s command’ Bernard said, angrily.
‘Never’ Tyler thought. ‘Fuck you, your fucking fag’ he yelled through his gag
‘You will learn to obey eventually, but if you want to learn the hard way, that’s fine with me’ Bernard said, and picked up the mini-stocks. He reached down to the boys crotch, and wrapped the boy’s free-hanging balls tightly in his fist, squeezing. Tyler yelped and struggled. With his free hand, Bernard brought the stocks down and clamped them closed between the boy’s ball sack and the base of his cock. He locked them in place. The boy’s balls protruded through the hole in the stocks, red and defenceless. The hole in the stocks was too small to let them retreat. Bernard rubbed them gently with his fingertip. He picked up the plastic tool.
‘At any point, if you decide to get an erection, we will stop’ he said. He whipped the tool through the air above the boy’s chest. It made a whooshing noise. Bernard had looked into this next torture in detail on the internet. He knew exactly how far he could go without causing permanent damage
Tyler knew he was in trouble, but he refused to give in. He gritted his teeth.
Bernard placed the flat end of the tool gently against the boy’s exposed ball sack. He rubbed it over the surface, gently. And then, he pulled the tool back about six inches, and brought it back into contact, sharply, with the two red and hairless balls. The impact made a sharp slap sound.
Tyler yelled. He had once been accidentally kneed in the crotch when playing football, and it had doubled him over in pain. This was not as bad, but he would still have rolled up into a ball if he hadn’t been bound.
‘One’ said Bernard
He waited for the boy’s initial pain response to subside. Then, he lifted the plastic tool again like a paddle, about twelve inches away this time, and brought it down for another loud slap.
‘Say give me two, sir’ Bernard said. Tyler did not really hear him, he was too wrapped up in controlling the pain. He whispered out another curse under his breath
‘Say give me two, sir’ Bernard repeated, more insistent. Tyler, eyes clenched shut, simply shook his head.
‘OK them’ Bernard said, and he raised the paddle. He swung it harder this time, and repeated immediately with another blow of similar force. Tyler squealed.
'Say give me three, sir’
‘No, please no...’ Tyler coughed through his gag
Bernard raised his arm, and three powerful blows rained down on the helpless stud’s trapped balls. It was more painful than that football accident now, and this was just the beginning.
'Say give me four...’
Bernard continued the assault until he reached six, then he paused. He felt round the board to the boy’s cock. Still limp. The boy must be in so much pain, he thought, but he didn’t want to continue this particular torture much further, as he didn’t want to do any physical damage. Well, maybe a few more wouldn’t hurt.
He raised the paddle again
‘Stop hurting him. Leave him alone’
Bernard paused, arm in midair, and looked over to the other bed, where the voice had come from. Kraig was awake, staring across, anger in his eyes.
’did you say something, slave?’
‘I said leave him alone. You’ve hurt him enough’
Bernard walked over to the other bed. ‘Unlike you, the slave has refused to get hard at his master’s touch. For this his organ must be punished. Unless you wish to take the punishment on his behalf’
Kraig blushed, embarrassed at the memory of his recent forced wank. But he was determined to speak up to his captor.
'You’ve been beating and torturing him. How can he possibly be expected to go hard?’
‘You did’
'Leave him alone. Please. You keep smashing his balls with that stick and he will never be able to get hard ever again’
‘Do you want to take the torture on his behalf?’
Kraig shuddered at the thought of what he had just seen being repeated on his manhood. He initially shook his head. Then, he tried bargaining
‘Let him go. You can... you can do what you want to me, just don’t hurt him any more’
Bernard smiled. There was something so sexy about the idea of one stud offering to sacrifice himself for the other boy. There was obviously more to this rivalry between the boys than met the eye. He walked back over to Tyler. The boy’s balls were red and swollen. Maybe he had been a bit too harsh this early in the game, Bernard thought.
‘Hear that?’ He said to Tyler. ‘Your bitter enemy will give himself to me if I let you go, how about that for a turnaround?’
Tyler did not respond. He was still struggling and twisting in pain from the last assault.
‘Well, this is not a negotiation’ said Bernard, ‘neither of you are going anywhere. I was going to rig him up to the electric shock rig today while I’m out at work, as punishment for his failure to get erect for his master, but I think Blondie here has reached his limit. So, the two of you can spend the day together, discussing how you are going to learn to serve me. But I will be coming back later, and I expect Blondie to have learnt some manners by then. If not, he will spend the whole night on the electric shock rig, and believe me, he will not want that. Oh, and by the way, on the subject of electric shocks...’
Bernard picked up a couple of black leather dog collars. Each one had a strange small black box strapped to it. He fixed them round the boy’s throats, one each. He took a small padlock and locked each one closed.
‘These are shock collars for training dogs’ he explained, ‘Only they each have been adapted to my special design. They have five shock settings from mild to severe. If you try and take them off, you get an immediate severe level 5 shock. If you walk within five metres of the door of this room, you will get a severe level 5 shock. I can remotely shock you from anywhere in this building. Let me give you an example’
Bernard pulled a remote keyfob from his pocket, and pressed the button. Both Tyler and Kraig’s bodies went rigid in their bindings, backs arched for a few seconds, before dropping back onto the mattress.
‘That was level 2’ Bernard explained. ‘Level five is the equivalent to a stun gun, it will immobilise you totally for thirty seconds or more. Now. I am going to adjust your bindings a little. If you try anything, I have just moved the dial on my remote up to five. Don’t force me to use it’
Bernard had a clever system for adjusting the position of the slave’s bindings, without giving them the opportunity to break free. By attaching chains and wires, attached to a complicated counterbalanced pulley mechanism hanging from the roof, to the boys’ wrist and ankle bindings, he could release the boy from the bed, one limb at a time, and immediately the free limb would hurtle skyward, like the arms of a marionette puppet . The boy could just about pull the arm or leg back down, but the weights and the difficult position made it like an extra-hard workout. Some of the pulleys were motorised, so they could pull whatever is attached to them across the room, if necessary. He moved around the bodies until he finally had them rigged how he wanted. He took off Tyler’s crotch restraint and gave the balls a quick, physical inspection. No permanent harm done, he decided.
The new bindings gave the boys some freedom of movement within the room, although a chain attached to their collar ran up to one of the motorised pulleys handing from the roof. Their wrists were now securely tied behind their backs, and a chain linking the wrists and the neck collar made it impossible for them to straighten their arms out. A short chain between their ankles meant they could walk a bit but only stumbling, short steps. Bernard left the room briefly, and returned with two dog bowls, full of some sort of foul smelling muesli type food, which he placed on the floor. He also provided half a dozen two litre bottles of water, but cruelly kept the screw caps on – that would be fun for two boys who have their hands tied behind their back, he thought. He turned to survey the scheme he had created. Kraig was sitting on the side of his bed, looking miserable. Tyler was curled up in a ball, weeping
‘That red light on the wall’ He pointed at the object in question, ‘when you hear a buzzer and that light comes on, you will both immediately carry out 50 pull-ups. I can see you through the CCTV camera, and I will be counting. You don’t need to be told what will happen if you do not comply. I will be back in eight or nine hours. There’s a toilet over there, also a shower which you will use. I expect you to keep yourselves clean. There is soap and shampoo but no hot water. Think about what I have advised you today and start thinking about how you can better serve me’
Bernard turned to leave and then, on an impulse, turned back, adjusted the remote back to level 2, and pushed the button. He loved the way the electricity made the boys' bodies’ tension and freeze, as if they had just been turned into stone statues. He released the button, paused, and did it again. He smiled. He would carry the remote with him all day, and whenever he felt like it, he would give them a quick level 2 blast.
He knew he would not be in the mood to mop the floors or replace light bulbs today. He would definitely turn down any requests for him to do overtime. He knew the next eight hours were going to seem like twenty, as all he wanted to do was finish work and get straight back down here to continue his fun.
Next chapter