Dirt

How To Cage a Boy

(And other things to do with cute boys)

Foreword

I would suppose that, in this instance, I should acknowledge that indeed real children may very well have been harmed, exposed, abused, and/or exploited in the creation of my devices and apparatuses.

My passion and occupation (in part) is the designing and creating of all manner of bondage apparatus and devices of restraint for those who wish to control, dominate, and/or even torment their sex partner. And although in the past I have always done such with the adult in mind, this time I'd be designing for a ten year old boy.

I usually commanded good fees for designing and building bondage apparatus for select clientele, but during this present economy I had to branch out and had even designed and built items more with torture in mind than strict bondage. I could not afford to be choosy. Hell, I even designed things recently for several lesbians – shudder. So when a certain Mr. Black (a not so subtle alias) asked for me to create a new and of course absolutely diabolical form of bondage apparatus for his new ten year old slave boy, I was quite easy to persuade. I'd rarely done anything involving extreme kid bondage before, but hell, I needed the income. OK, I could have resisted but I was also getting intrigued. Though I'd never before used any 'really' severe restraint or bondage mechanism on my own boys, I started 'wondering.' Of course I also wanted to maintain the extravagant level of living to which I had become accustomed. I would spare no expense. (And of course I would add all my expenses onto his bill).

However, after toying around with a number of esoteric and nefarious means of subjecting a 3; boy 3; to varying types of extreme (and harrowing) bondage apparatus, but not yet feeling that any of these new ideas were really worthy of my creative genius, I decided I needed some inspiration. I decided I would also need several subjects on which to experiment.

Besides, I'd just sold my last boy; at 12½ years of age he was getting entirely too old. I needed to find a replacement. I was usually quite selective as to my own boy's exhibited predilections towards not just both boy-boy sex, but also possessing a submissive disposition. Of course the boy should also possess a breathtakingly cute body and an adorably innocent face. Like my last boy. Think of a beautiful typical Latino with perfect bronze skin, smoldering eyes, and innocently seductive smile, sort of crossed with the typical rendition of a Japanese shota, and you'd come close. I must admit that my previous boy had been amendable to man boy sex, but he definitely was not of a submissive bent. He'd been quite a fighter when I'd first acquired him two years before. It was only with my will, finally outclassing his, by which I eventually succeeded in mastering the boy. But for my next boy I was determined to keep to my self established 'rules.'

I also can't seem to convince anyone that I am not a sadist but it is true. I don't actually get aroused by hurting anyone. Of course there comes times when the addition of at least some pain during a disciplining session becomes necessary. The boy must learn that only total servile obedience is to be allowed. By the time I sell my previous boy because he unfortunately got too old, it would never occur to him to ever allow himself to 'decide' what to do. There was only one thing in the boy's mind – how best to please his master. Of course I also firmly believe a 'good' boy should also be rewarded. That same boy, when I sold him, (besides obeying his master), had only two things on his mind, and that was sex and obedience. The guy I sold him to would definitely continue the boy's personality formation as a true sex slave. He mentioned that he most desired teens and only allowed them out of their cell in his dungeon after having exhibited absolute submission. But he was a good master. I knew that his last boy, on turning 17, was even sent to college and was well on his was to becoming a great master in his own right. He had tried to convince me that only previous slaves made really good masters. I smiled as I acquiesced to his opinion. I'd never been submissive or anyone's even pretend slave my entire life. Nor was I too concerned if a slave would ever be freed. (They are indeed natural slaves out there and it is only a kindness to make sure they remain slaves).

*1*

Aside from my own personal boy-quest, I would also be collecting boys for sale to several of my usual buyers. There were two boy brothels, one in a suburb of Washington D.C, and the other near Atlanta, who knew that I would provide them with not just totally clean boys, but ones very amendable to man-boy sex. These particular places guaranteed to their customers, boys who were clean, enthusiastic, and most importantly, prepubescent. Of the boys I would gather, those not quite up to the specifications required by these two establishments, there was an island resort in the southern Bahamas who were not as selective. And their boys would be used in all manner of bondage sex. The boy need not to be quite so willing. It was from these sales where I actually made a substantial percentage of my income.

The third, and more mundane reason for my trip, was to re-supply some items not readily available elsewhere. I occasionally worked in silver and even gold. (And for those items needing an extreme polish, magnesium). I also needed certain drugs and even some electronics not available to the average buyer.

It had taken almost a year of very careful inquiry in various chat groups and other Internet environments but I was finally armed with a list of 31 boys to choose from in Miami and nearby cities. I had 21 addresses. Being in the Miami area, the list was heavy with boys of Cuban or other Latino ethnicity, but there were also included a number of a Caucasians and blacks. And two Orientals.

There was one boy – a six year old – who I believe was originally from Malaysia, his parents having been killed several years before in an accident, who I was very interested in. I have to admit the objects of my sexual desire have so far most usually involved young boys between the ages of 8 through 12. Perhaps up to 13 if still small and prepubescent. But just recently some of my (very lustful and prurient) thoughts have occasionally included some younger denizens of the cute boy world. So I was not going to cross this young six year old from my personal list if he proved suitable. There were two separate kids in his group home who maintained that the boy had been quite easily coerced into giving them blow jobs. And that he'd even became quite adept. Well, I'd find out. And perhaps this time I'd introduce my new 'acquisitions' to the more serious and intense world of restraints and bondage.

My mind became fervently active along these lines as I flew my Cessna Citation CJ3 from the island of Dominica where I currently lived, to Miami International, where I had the plane refueled and parked, awaiting my return. I most often flew without a co-pilot, so I absolutely loved its full-authority digital engine controls. I also liked its amazing range, and, with the cabin seats removed, its ability to easily hold the twenty (boy) cages I'd brought with me. And it could fly at over 400 knots [over 460 mph]. It was nice to be wealthy. Now to stay that way. I rented a large motor home, and then went back to the parked Cessna where I transferred the twenty large animal (oops, I mean boy) cages. Fortunately they were equipped with wheels and a telescoping handle for easy mobility. I then confirmed the rental of a small warehouse space in a derelict area of the metropolis where no one would be snooping into my business.

So to the first group home I went. I primarily used children from a group homes for two main reasons. One, no one would spend any significant amount of time or effort to discover just what happened to such children, and two, I always made a determined effort to improve a child's situation if at all possible. All my 'acquisitions' would be consequently sold as slaves to very responsible boy brothels. And I also made great effort to 'recruit' those whom one would expect to have same-sex attraction. I wanted to make sure that any boy I would 'conscript,' would enjoy his utilization as a sex-slave, at as least as much as I will enjoy using him. And his little boy body.

Well, I eventually covered nine group homes in Miami alone. (Miami abounded in homeless youths). My methods of recruitment were quite simple: 1) I chose only those boys who were amazingly cute. 2) Since my clients wanted only prepubescent boys (and I was looking for the same) that is what I went out after. And 3) to discover if the prospective boy was amendable to same sex sexual response, I molested the boy to discover if he enjoyed it. Of course this could have wide variation depending on my take of the boy in question and my previous information about him.

At Claremont's Home for Boys I looked up one of my prime candidates, a delightful and vivacious black skinned 11year old named Binky. It was nothing to lure him away with the promise of a McDonald's burger and fries. In fact I too enjoyed this meal with him. The next stop was the old warehouse where I lay the now struggling boy onto an old discarded bed mattress, wrapped his small but wildly struggling body with a roll of the ubiquitous duck tape, making sure his arms were pinned alongside his small frame and his legs were tightly bound together. I finally convinced the boy to quiet down with a little invention of my own. It used microwaves and when the active end touched the skin it felt like a burn, but did almost no damage. After a heart rending scream as I touched it to his neck, he decided that he would cooperate. Tough kid though, hardly any tears.

I exposed the boy's penis – rigidly hard by the way – and only had to threaten him once as I pushed a catheter all the way to his bladder and explained his situation.

"Look kid. This is going to happen. Nothing and no one can help you. But if you cooperate you will not be harmed. I will be putting you into a small cage with a hole in the top where you head will be allowed to stick up free. But one loud yell and I tape your mouth shut."

I put the boy in the first cage, hooked up the catheter to drain through a hole to the outside, and then even freed the boy's arms. I closed the top with his head sticking up at one end. (I had no trouble modifying the cages this way and discovered from past experience that this was a better way to handle a lot of boys who needed to be fed and watered. And flown back to where I lived where they would be carefully evaluated. The warehouse was isolated enough that even if the boys started making noise, it would avail them nothing. And strangely, I discovered that the presence of many other similarly incarcerated boys actually had a calming effect.

I made certain that the locks were fastened and told him I'd be back in about an hour.

As I turned away he screamed out after me: "Don't leave me here. Please."

I looked back and replied: "Remember that friend of yours?"

A real hesitant "Yeah?"

"Well he'll soon occupy that cage next to you."

He looked about and finally noticed the other cages and started crying.

The exhilaration of the short but necessary struggle, along with the sight of his bound body sent quite a pleasurable frisson of lust through my loins. I hoped he would pan out. He was quite cute with a medium brown skin, and features possibly moderated by some mixture of Latino mix even if his hair were totally nappy. He'd been a very recent occupant of the home, his father having abandoned him about four months earlier.

At the McDonald's, while mentioning how much he really hated his pop for leaving him behind with not even a goodbye, I discovered he had a good friend there, a Cuban émigré's son. (Parents arrested for drugs). He was not quite 11. So I went back armed with a good description.

I got a bit lucky finding the boy coming down the block alone.

"Hay Julio?"

The boy turned about warily. "Yeah?"

"I have your friend Binky."

"Liar. No one knows I call him that."

Not the best logic since I had his name. "I just did. Get in the van and I'll take you to him."

"You crazy man," he said as he started backing away.

I tossed him a cell phone. "Look at the photo."

It was of Binky's head poking through the cage.

The boy started to shake. I realized from the boy's reaction that the two boys must have been really close.

Ten minutes later a crying Julio was pleading me to let his friend go. Once he even said he'd swap places. I was getting good vibes about this boy. I was hoping he'd be a good candidate for the Washington DC brothel.

It was so easy to get Julio to cooperate by threatening Binky. The day went quite well. Nine more boys from four different group homes. Hell, three of them I went right into the building and showed false papers – a honcho from Family Services. Two blacks, four Latinos, and three Caucasian, and all eight through 11. And all cute. Four other boys I passed on. One on looks, two on attitude, and one ran away before I'd even gotten close.

Good day, but very tiring. And I had been quite surprised by one of the smallest kids I kidnapped. (I mean 'acquired'). As I started opening the back of my rented van, grabbing him bodily off the ground, he started kicking and thrashing about as I was attempting to get him into the back of the van. He couldn't have been more than 50 pounds [23 kg] soaking wet and I had gotten careless. I had my hand over his mouth and he bit me. I almost lost him. I threw us both into the van and fell on top of him and he screamed. I almost started to panic even though we were in a place out of sight of traffic or people. Damn, almost ten years doing this at least twice a year without a hitch, and I'd gotten too complacent. I finally wound half a roll of duck tape about the boy's body, starting with his mouth. He was now breathing loudly and with difficulty and I then noticed an inhaler which had fallen out of his pocket. Damn again! All I needed.

I picked up the inhaler, took a gamble on taking the tape from his mouth, and squeezed a puff into his now open mouth. He clamped his lips down and I gave him another puff. He soon quieted down and looked at me with a bunch of fear and a lot of confusion.

I quickly took the chance to lock the door and turned to the boy who still hadn't spoken.

"You OK now?"

The boy squeaked out a yes.

This boy was a real looker. And had just turned eight. Oriental but possibly with a bit of something a bit darker which seemed to have produced the best of both races. I had also known that he had been getting spending money by sucking the dicks of some of the older boys.

"Please don't hurt me." He finally got back a bit of gumption. And voiced other similar pleas.

"Not to worry boy; you're way too cute. What do you say? I want a boy for my bed at night."

And damn if he didn't give me a quivering smile. "You take care of me?"

"Absolutely."

I looked out the curtained window and saw the coast clear. A near miss. I vowed to be more careful.

By this time I was plum exhausted. Kidnapping is hard work. I drove hack to the warehouse, and upon entering, several of the boys started yelling. I went to the first and touched his neck with the pain inducer. He screamed even louder but then quieted. There was momentary quiet in the room and I threatened them all. I then picked up a large pail, and proceeded to open their catheters and collect urine. I then gave all the boys a good drink. By this time many of the boys were talking to those near them, but nothing out of hand.

Eleven boys including the one still in the van. A damn good day. But I was pretty exhausted and still had a lot of work ahead of me.

I then addressed the group of caged boys. "By now you know that you will not be harmed. Just cooperate."

One crying boy asked: "What's going to happen to us?"

"You will find out after I have you all flown back to where I live."

That really got their attention. One boy inquired very loudly: "Flown?"

"Yes. And remember, you are very valuable. Cooperate and you will be treated well. In some cases quite well indeed." (The Atlanta place really pampered their boys). And well, I'm a good liar also.

With only mild gasps and mumblings I proceeded to load up the first six cages into the back of the van – all that would fit. There was still the taped up eight year old boy in the front. He stayed mostly quiet except for asking where we were headed.

"Miami airport little bit." (I'd forgotten his name. Bing, or Bang, or Bong, 3; or something. Whatever. A super cute Oriental). "I have a plane there."

His eyes got wide. "You rich!?"

I smiled at the now strangely composed kid for being all trussed up. "Way rich."

And that was when I saw his small boner trying to poke through between his wrappings of tape. I was thinking: "Damn, Bung, or whatever your name is, how about being one of my new slaves?"

It took another trip to get all the cages into the Cessna. All the cabin's seats had been removed and there was quite sufficient room. When I finally got all the cages secured, amid a lot of renewed noise, I started laying down the law.

"The next boy who fails to speak quietly get's his mouth taped closed, and no food."

And that was when I remembered the boy still in the van. By the time I'd gone back for him he was quietly crying.

"I thought you wasn't coming back for me."

"No way kid. You're way too special."

That was not a lie. I even unwrapped his body from the tape and, hand in hand, allowed him to walk to the plane.

"Wow! That's a big plane!"

"Yes." And against regulations, I'd be flying it back to the island without a copilot. (Well, compared to kidnapping (I mean boy acquisition, what's a broken regulation or two)? I was happy that where I'd be landing there would be no pesky authorities asking to check the manifest. Or more importantly, the interior of the cages.

"Well, yes, Mr. Custom's Inspector, let's see. Yes, twenty boys – that was my minimum target figure – ages 6 through 12." That would get a big laugh. (I was still hopeful of acquiring that super cute six year old).

Re-entering the plane the boy's eyes boggled and he exclaimed: "Holy shit!" As he looked at the huge cabin, and then a couple more choice words escaped him as he saw all the heads sticking out of the ten cages.

He started shaking, and crying again.

"Mister? Please don't put me in a cage."

"No cage boy. But how about you helping me feed them?"

This was another ordeal. I started one by one, opening each cage, taking the boy out and removing all his bonds, but then putting leather shackles on his ankles. (In earlier years I had used metal and some of the 'merchandise' had been slightly damaged by the time I'd got them interred in the sub-basement of my residence).

A trip to the john, and then back to the cage. There was a whole lot of grumbling about the catheters, and the tubes still sticking out of their penis slits. But again I laid down the law. Damned if I would have any pee smelling up my plane. Or even the cages. This time, besides having the boy's head above the cutout in the cage, there was a side hole where I permitted one of the boy's arms to be threaded to the outside. Again long experience. Easier to feed.

After everything was finally emptied, watered, and fed, I locked up the plane and started back to my van. Bung, (that was the boy's name I had learned) was with me again asking questions. I was not overly concerned about the ten caged boys already on the plane. There was a carefully measured out sedative in their food that would keep them quiet for at least the next twelve hours. As I've said; I've done this quite a number of times.

Only once in all those years had I even come close to someone sniffing on my trail. It turned out that one of those foster parents actually cared about one of their charges and had been doing some investigating himself. (The cops sure lost interest in a week or so). I so wanted to let the guy know that his ten year old boy was one of the more popular ones in a certain resort (boy brothel) on a certain island (private island in the Bahamas). And making more money (for the resort owners) in the few weeks the boy had been there, than the dad probably made the previous year. And definitely had more sex.

With real concern, and a little fear, Bung asked: "Those boys? What you gonna do?"

"Tell you what. Hold off until we are back at my motel room, and you have a good bath and some food, and I'll show you pictures."

The boy was now quite confused. Well he was barely eight years old. And kept vacillating back and forth from excitement to fear. But never once did he ask to be brought back to his group home.

"Pictures?"

"Yes. I'll show you pictures of boys I've done this with last year. I promise you will see them smiling."

Well only a small lie. Many sold to the two brothels were.

The next day I was in a quandary as to what to do with Bung. I finally decided that he too would have to be caged. He would not stop crying until I told him that when we got back to my home, he'd be one of my very special boys. A little naivety and ignorance went a long way to calming him down. The sedative I put in his breakfast also helped. He was fast asleep when I pulled down his boxers and inserted the catheter. What beautiful, dusky, brown-toned, little boy genitals. (And I prefer the circumcised look on my boys). I was hard pressed not to take them into my mouth and suck on them for an hour. Of course I also had to examine in detail his cute brown pucker. I sure hoped that he would respond well enough when I got him back home, that he'd become one of my own new slave boys.

I was able to gather ten more boys the next day. I was one cage short but I decided to let Bung ride up front with me. He sure was angry when he realized that I'd drugged him, but being led to the co-pilot's seat stopped his tears.

This time I had put the sedative in the caged boys' drink. I sure didn't want to contend with twenty frightened and angry boys on the flight back, even if it were only about four hours.

Though several of the boys I had looked up were unsuitable on varying grounds, I must mention the amazing six year old I captured. Six year old Jamie Bradley was a strikingly cute white kid with large soulful eyes, tantalizingly luscious lips, and a dink of an upturned nose. His long blond hair seemed to wave as he laughed. And to think I'd almost missed gathering him in. The previous nine boys that day proved remarkably easy. One I even plucked right out of his foster home. (Nice those fast acting sedatives). No one even looked twice as I carried the small eight year old boy against my shoulder. One passer-by even remarked: "how cute." This day I was much faster with the sedation even of it was more physically tiring. Of those nine boys, not a one would awaken until they were in the series of cells I'd had built in my subbasement.

But back to little Jamie Bradley. He was a charmingly beautiful blue eyed blond. Ok, I know. The usual stereotype of a boy lover. But it was his shy smile, when I'd finally seen it, which took me in. Personally, as a connoisseur of boy flesh, I have a preference for blacks or Orientals. But Jamie would excite the lust of the most jaded boy lover – that is if you liked them that small. (My own preference was for boys in the 8 to 12 year range). I usually prefer to take eight year olds so that by the time they grow to proper size, I am really into them, and they are already well trained. Until trained, my boys only rarely leave my house, and commonly inhabit my dungeon. And of course find themselves in my bed at night. Occasionally I have them in my workroom where they get to see what I do for a living. (Aside from kidnapping and selling boys). I even try some of the things I make, on the boy. One of my previous boys was even enthusiastic in helping me, and in not just making the items, but in modeling them. A seriously beautiful silver and platinum collar – damned expensive – with its built in capture links and hidden lock, he cried when I was about to take from around his neck. After a seriously mournful plea, I found it easier to just make another. I still get an occasional e-mail from him when his current master allows. He proved to be a true submissive (especially sexually) and thrived as a slave. I always chided myself for being so easy on him. Barely disciplining him with strap or cane more than once or twice a day. And I had to really lay it on to make him realize that I was serious – on those occasions when I was. I also suspect he liked the fact that he never again attended school after I had kidnapped him at age 9.

Back at home, I landed, and guided the plane off its original runway and onto the prepared lane on my own property. It was quite a struggle to bring all twenty cages into my sub-basement even with the elevator. Bung was no help. He was too mesmerized by the beauty of my ground and then my home, even though to me, it was relatively modest. My workroom, study, bedroom, and kitchen, and sub-basement when in use, were where I mostly lived. I employed no servants. My slave boys did some of the minor everyday work and I used only occasional hired help for the grounds and everything else. And when necessary, and with rare exceptions, I kept my slave in the sub-basement or dungeon (basement) when anyone else was in the house.

Several of the boys were starting to rouse, so I hurried. One naked boy to a cell, with no direct way to communicate with each other. Each cell, six feet [1.80 m] by three feet [90 cm], was doubly insulated for sound proofing. And had a small light which was never was turned off. There was a slim but relatively comfortable cot, sink, toilet, and even a flat screen TV (linked to a DVD player). They had the choice of five channels. I had learned that that TV/DVD system alone took away half of all possible future headaches.

But no clothes. Only a blanket. I wanted to see early on how they responded to being naked in front of an adult. I only took out a boy, one at a time, for clean-up, and food. Of course they wanted that catheter out. It was sure fun and revitalizing, to see each boy as he was forced to take all his clothes off. But usually it took only a little prodding. Of course there were two boys I necessarily took such delight in divesting them myself they would not cooperate in their own disrobing. Fortunately they were a couple of the smaller younger boys. And damn I had a boner which would not quit. And most of the boys sported them too, especially after their showers – where I insisted on washing their cute bodies myself.

I insisted that I be the one to clean them in the large industrial sized shower. Most of the boys only needed a little prodding. (My prodding sometimes included a small microwave pain inducer, or when in a wet environment, a two inch [5 cm] wide leather strap on their naked bottoms). On their very first meander out of their cells I always informed them what was in their future. Many tried at first not to believe it. By the end of their naked shower, with a naked man, they started to believe. By the time I'd done the first ten boys I was too exhausted. And water logged. I took a break even though it was near midnight.

I used to like making a boy make himself naked right in front of all the other boys but I fond that scenario all too difficult to control. Now strictly one boy at a time.

As I went back up on the elevator, I started bringing back to mind a few of the really noteworthy boys that had gone through here. One of my favorite boys – I can remember him even years later – was a very very black boy originally from Jamaica. I can still hear his delightful accent. And see his delightful boy boner.

"Shi-ot mon. I knows all 'bouts slavery. My Mammy worked herself to death."

And later: "Shi-ot mon. Giv's me da man right now. I doo him good." He then turned and wiggled his butt. I had to keep him long enough to get back his HIV status.

He was a very sex-wise ten year old and did famously at the boy brothel near Washington DC. Last I heard some Senator's aide took the boy home and made him his 'house boy.'

(But I'm more careful now. I no longer take boys who had been used annually by any adult or even older teenager).

But it was inevitable that many boys cried, or showed anger. But only occasionally did a boy beg to be allowed to go back 'home.' And a surprising number merely accepted the inevitable. They were more worried about just how they would be treated.

Of course I lied. Though for many of them they would be treated pretty well as long as they cooperated. Especially those destined for the high end boy brothels. A few even said they looked forward to being used for sex (so long as the men were not old and smelly).

The one or two who refused to behave, I immediately re-secured them into their cages (with the usual catheter), put then into a storage room, and left them. By the next day, not wanting to foul themselves, they were pleading for both food and a toilet.

There was only one time, in past years, when a boy absolutely refused to cooperate. I tied him into a canvas sac with just his head sticking out, put the sac into a hole in the floor which forced him in an upright position, and attached to him a forced feeding tube mouth gag. Damn he never did cooperate, even after a week of whizzing and shitting himself. I eventually sold him to a buyer who said he liked hard cases. These days I am much more selective in the boys I 'acquire.'

*2*

I eventually want back down to the sub-basement.

By the time I'd gotten all the boys washed, settled down, watered and fed, and made them well aware that no contretemps or even shouting would be allowed, it was well after 2 in the morning. And I was bushed. This time the food I'd given the boys didn't have any sedative but it did contain a really strong tranquilizer specifically designed for children. And only one boy had to be locked into a muffling gag. (Seems like there's always one).

Now to take care of little Bung. (He alone of the boys still had his clothes on but not for long). When I got back to the first floor, I found him in the process of forcing an entire quart of chocolate ice cream – which he must have found in my stand alone freezer – into his miniscule tummy, while watching the small TV I had in the kitchen. And he looked up with only the slightest twinge of alarm. At 4 feet [1.20 m] even and 48 pounds [22 kg], I wondered where he was putting all the food. And he was quite small even for eight years old. And I was taken with him.

He was going to be the first boy 'tested.' I literally picked him up, and carried him to my bedroom where I started forcibly removing his clothes. I first divested him of his belt and proceeded to pull down his pants from waist to groin. It was during this phase of the operation when I noted the very first signs of capitulation and even a few moans of his own pleasure. His struggles had become merely pro forma. Even before I started any serious molestation, I was quite sure I had my first boy. But I continued not just for thoroughness, but also because I was so enjoying myself. My boner was almost as hard as the 3½ inches [9 cm] pointing straight upwards through the hole in his boxers. I turned him over, and then exposed his beautiful dusky light-brown colored butt.

By this time the boy had stopped squirming and lay quiet. Another positive sign that this was indeed an exploitable boy. But just to make sure, I turned him back over, forced my fingers passed his fleshy lips (with barely any resistance), and then gradually thrust my now wet index finger to the hilt into his tight boy sphincter. He squealed and moved under me but still made no effort to plead for me to stop. I then pulled his pants off, and then his underpants, and started masturbating him with several fingers and a thumb on his chocolate circumcised erection, as I lay across his small non-struggling body. In no time at all he was gyrating and almost lifting me off of him as his intense little boy dry orgasm struck. Strangely, or actually not, my own freed member, having made contact with his light tawny flesh, also enjoyed its own climax as they rode between his legs.

"Well boy, you enjoy that?"

He tried to pretend distress, but he could not avoid that look of wonder at his own body.

He finally croaked out a very weak and unconvincing "no."

But he simply lay there in near shock at what had happened and seemed mesmerized as he saw me use part of his torn clothing to wipe my own slightly deflating penis. (A modest 6½ inches [16½ cm] when engorged. I was glad it was boy-butt sized).

After a few different tries at meaningful communication, he finally asked: "What did you do to me?"

"That boy, is called an orgasm. Most boys want to have as many of them as possible."

"Ah. Can 3; I mean, ah, can you 3;"

"Sure boy. Boys your age can recharge quite fast."

This time I moved my finger around in his rectum until I got the reaction I was looking for and then engulfed his entire little boy genitals, penis and all, in my mouth. This time the boy lay back for a moment and then arched his back as he proceeded to sing to the rafters. (Well more a squeal then actual harmony).

This time he seemed to almost pass out. I took the opportunity to remove his remaining clothes. He wouldn't be needing them for the weeks to come. (Or possibly never). I took great delight in his beautiful body, my hands incapable of stopping their progress over it, concentrating on his trunk and groin area. I eventually brought myself to another climax.

I was a little lucky with this boy. Unlike many of the others I'd be looking into, this boy had no known history of sexual activity. Just some vague comments from the boy himself on the Internet which were vaguely suggestive. But he was so cute I decided to give it a try. I was quite thankful I did.

"OK Bung, here's the deal."

And I explained how I would be taking care of him. But he would have to learn that he was my slaveboy. (I made sure right away they knew they were a slave, even if many boys tried to rationalize their way out of it).

Of course I would be introducing Bung and the other boys to physical molestation pretty soon. I wanted to earn my commission. For now I needed cooperation while I was finding out which of the boys in the basement I'd be marketing to the two brothels I usually did business with.

I found it quite amazing just how fast Bung adapted to his new circumstances. I also learned a few things about him that next morning at breakfast. His mother was Thai, and his dad, whom he never knew, was mixed Thai and black. His mom had been a prostitute and he hadn't seen her since he was four. His face was quite undemonstrative while he filled me in.

He was also not that naïve. He came right out and asked me: "You want me for sex, I know. And all those other boys. Who gets them?"

"Yes, I acquired you for sex. You will live here with me. And I will be picking two more boys. The others I will be selling. It's partly how I make a living."

Then Bung did something totally surprising. He looked up at me and asked: "Can I help choose the other two boys? Since they will be like brothers? I always wanted a brother to take care of me. The boys in the home were always so mean. I never fit in."

How was I supposed to deal with this boy? I wanted a slave for sex. Not a son or a lover. He would soon have to learn his proper place.

I did use him to help with the feeding of the twenty boys in the basement. They were all starting to complain about having no clothes. Among other things. But eventually, one by one, I brought each boy into the shower and I made no pretense. I deliberately molested each and everyone of them. I needed to see how they reacted. Many I took into an adjacent room where was set up a big bed – with some manacles and ropes but they remained mostly unused. Well on those few boys who were totally submissive and allowed me total access to their boy parts, I did put into cuffs and pulled their four limbs to the four corners of the bed just to see how they responded. Then I next started shoving things into their butt holes while I masturbated them. I found three perfect candidates for that resort on that island where they specialized in bondage, control, and some light torture. I'd taken advantage of several free invites.

I finally determined that I had thirteen good candidates for the two brothels including Julio and his friend Binky, and the super cute six year old. I had taken extensive notes.

There were several notable occurrences. One boy, an 11 year old Latino of Cuban ancestry, totally froze as I was washing him in the shower. I quite remembered him from the day before since he had the absolutely longest penis I'd ever seen on a boy his age. Flaccid it was over 4 inches [10 cm] long! Not counting his foreskin. And boned up, it was a very well proportioned 6 inches [15 cm], and well proportioned for a prepubescent boy. His scrotum was about average. I waited until we were both dried off to carry the boy, still making no move to hinder what was happening to him, to the bed in the next room. Then over the next hour I thoroughly examined with both fingers and tongue every portion of his body. He even allowed me to invade his mouth with my tongue with no evasion.

After bringing the boy to a couple good orgasms, I then forced my own member into his mouth. He was a natural. I shot hard and long and he even made little effort to keep from swallowing.

He made a lot of noise during his audition but it was not until after I was just holding his luscious body after my own substantial orgasm when he finally spoke.

"I'm bad ain't I?"

"What? You were amazingly good!"

"I'm bad. That's why my mom gave me away. Billy and I liked to do things to each other."

I did my best to tell this boy he would be giving a lot of people great pleasure over the next years of his life. I tagged him for one of the brothels. Over the next four days I had him, I finally got him to where he very enthusiastically engaged in all but anal sex. I would let the brothels worry about training the boy in that particular art. He was too valuable to open him up too fast. He also had that totally perfect Latino look of boys his age. I would miss him. He totally cooperated even so far as my getting him ready for shipment – back into his cage for another flight.

Then there were the two boyfriends. That was the only way I could describe them. And so totally different from each other in size, ethnicity, and personality. They were both 11 years old, but the white one – with black hair and large build, and Italian name – was extremely domineering over the black boy, of small stature, though the same age, and a good 6 inches [15 cm] shorter. They said they slept together all the time – and were always in trouble for it.

It was the white boy whom I first 'worked with.' I had looked to my notes to familiarize myself with this boy before I released him from his cell. One Jeffery Fallini, age 11, no known parents. Found as a runaway at age 9. There were several barely visible scars on his back and legs. Obvious abuse. He never would tell authorities anything about his home or his parents. A long endured discipline problem. Until he came to the rescue of another boy who was getting his ass beat by his peers. After that they were never apart. One boy I'd exchanged information from at his boy's home said they were queer for each other.

Jaffrey was not quite 5 foot [1½ m] and already between 80 to 90 pounds [35 to 40 kg]. And strikingly beautiful. That was the only way to describe him. Black curly hair, an angelic face, and a body out of a boy lover's fantasy. And the very first thing he said upon being led to the shower room totally naked was: "Where's Jam? I know you got 'im; I heard 'im cryin'. Where's Jamal?"

"He then plopped down onto the cold floor and stated: "I don't do nothin' 'til I see Jam!"

I was a little flabbergasted. And taken by both the boy's fearless umbrage and his loyalty to his friend.

I looked in my notes and found Jamal's cell. I disobeyed my own rules and brought a crying Jamal Blackman over to his loyal friend. Jamal ran the last few yards and fell, literally, into Jeff's arms.

After some words between them, they both stood. Well Jeff stood and pulled the much lighter boy onto his feet. It was Jeff who spoke. A very timid Jamal literally cowered behind his friend, as if he thought he could hide.

"Please mister. Please don't makes us lose each other. We will do anything you want. Just let us stay together."

The other boy was nodding in agreement.

They were as good as their word. No matter what I asked, they cooperated. Even when I brought them over to the bed and proceeded to totally molest them. And then have one boy suck the other. They apparently were not unfamiliar with the procedure. I smiled when Jeff announced that they were not faggots, they just liked each other. A whole whole lot.

Over the next three days as I observed them, they seemed to come alive – I'd allowed them to occupy the same cell. I offered to put in another cot but they declined. And it was Bung who finally settled it. These were the two other boys he'd chosen for me. By the time I was readying the other boys for sale, they were out of their cells and helping, obeying all directions completely. And all the while running about totally naked. Little Jamal, though about the same age, was almost a head shorter and a good 30 pounds [13 kg] lighter. And with his extremely black skin, and severely Negroid facial features, was in total contrast to his 'just a good friend.' Together they were a delight to watch.

And damn how was I going to discipline them as I must after allowing them nearly the run of the place? And to think I'd acquired them partly to experiment on. I had envisioned their first month here in at least some manner of severe bondage. And except for having one or another in my bed at night, my rules stated that they would never be allowed out of my dungeon for their first weeks. And the cruel designs of near torturous restraints I had percolating about in my brain were to be their ever present adornments.

*3*

By the end of the week, as per my usual routine, I now placed two boys in the same cell and explained that there would be no TV, nothing to do, unless both boys engaged in sexual activity. Most took to it quite well. I experimented a bit in switching boys about until every boy was at least encouraged by the other to acquiesce. I liked to arrange, as much as I was able, to mix races. I delighted in the contrast of features and skin color as black or brown boy and white boy, intertwined and put white mouth to dusky penis. There were times I was even surprised with the enthusiasm with which a boy would attack the other's genitals and other (no longer) private parts.

Since all cells were equipped with a couple well placed cameras, I had many terabytes of boy on boy porn both to show my three main clients, and also to sell on the open market. I always went through two very trusted middle men who in turn were delighted to receive anything I could send them.

Many of the boys were surprised to feel my finger in their butt holes, or even more astonishingly, my tongue. But most of the boys stopped being concerned about that aspect of the act and were happy to experience the pleasure it gave them. But it took more time and effort to make the boys do the same to me. But eventually all the boys, even if through coercion or physical punishment, got over their sense of 'yuckiness' when commanded to reciprocate my own attention to their beautiful boy butt clefts and adorable butt holes. It was usually when I forced them to start licking my own butt, even going so far as putting their tongues right inside, that caused not a few rebellions. In one particular hard case, I eventually tied the boy into a head cradle, forced a ring gag into his (shouting) mouth, and literally sat on his face, only rising enough to allow an occasional breath. He soon got the message, especially when I threatened to actually use his mouth as a toilet.

However, there were several notable exceptions, boys who showed almost no reluctance to use their tongues. One particular boy, a delectable piece of Latino boy flesh at ten years of age was no more than 70 pounds [32 kg] of wriggling brown limbs and exploring hands, seemed to not only enjoy every aspect of man-boy sex, but the more I forced my butt crack and butt hole onto his brown face, the more he was sexually thrilled by the experience. Another 'A-list' brothel boy, definitely.

By this time Bung had become a whirling-dervish in my bed. I'd never seen a boy so totally relish sex – every kind of sex. I was quite pleased with his acquisition. I was wondering how well he would respond when I would get much more demanding. And when I would start training him as an absolute slave. I was quite looking forward to it. I had also decided that the other two boys I intended to keep, at least for the time being, would be introduced to the very extremes of bondage, both short term and long term. I was even toying with the idea of actually placing them into what I would tell them was a permanent incarceration of some diabolical sort. Just to see their reactions. (And even just a week or so could to a boy seem like a lifetime).

*4*

"Listen up boys." I had their quiet attention only after several uses of my microwave gizmo. "You all know that from this moment on you are slaves. Your new masters will demand total and absolute obedience. You also know that you will be used for sex. Most of you I know as a fact actually may enjoy that aspect of your new occupations. And I just want you to know that you have made me a whole lot of money."

Aboard the plane, I put another sedative into their food and drink. I made good use of Bung, and his obedient service, even if he started to wonder just what would become of all those boys. My first destination was a small private island in the southern Bahamas. No problem with authorities. As I taxied to a stop at the small building and awaiting truck at the end of the private runway, I almost felt a bit reluctant. I would be loosing five of my boys with whom I'd gotten so intimately involved. Even if for only a few days.

The five cages were loaded into an open bed truck and the boys looked about at their new residence. (These five I'd not sedated since the trip was so short).

I was welcomed by two men I well knew, one vigorous in his middle age, and the other barely out of his teens. They were both filled with exuberant expectations as they would be responsible for training the new five boys.

"Why, what have we here?" one of them exclaimed upon seeing a naked Bung shyly looked out from the open door of the plane.

"Come over here Bung." I ordered.

The naked boy suddenly turned shy. Except for sandals he'd not a stitch on. And I so wanted to show off my new boy.

"Bung, you know well what I will do if you disobey."

The boy finally tentatively approached trying to hide his newly sprung boner.

Finally I picked the boy up and started fondling his very responsive genitals and then proceeded to masturbate the boy right on the spot. He very soon squiggled in my arms trying to evade what to him must have been a totally embarrassing situation. He was pleading with me to stop. That was until I had him near climax and then he just reacted as nature intended. Quite loudly. A number of very strong shudders and it was over. His dry climax I thought one of his strongest. Both men totally enjoyed the spectacle amid several unseemly remarks. Eventually I set the boy down and he stayed there looking at the men with an expression of acute mortification.

"My new boy. Very special."

I then told Bung to return to the plane. I didn't want to disturb him with what the other five boys soon see, and with how they were going to be treated. It would involve extreme measures of discipline, and would no doubt become a necessary part of the boys' lives for many years to come. It was also quite possible that some of them would never know a life apart from slavery. Though one of the men before me, now an employee of this special resort, had been one of these very boys just several years before.

The five cages were quickly loaded onto the truck amid some whimpers and entreaties from the boys and we soon neared the beautiful villa and the outbuildings. It was one of these outbuilding at which he alighted. It was a training facility and would be the boys' abode for the next several weeks until they were sufficiently conditioned to obey.

The two men had momentarily gone inside and returned with a cart containing five collars and five leashes. And two slender and supple canes. Their sting was not debilitating but certainly imparted a pain that would not so quickly go away. They wanted each boy to remember its sting.

As each boy was removed from his cage and made to stand at a painted line on the warm concrete slab, they looked about in trepidation, or in some cases, a bit of excitement. Of course being totally naked in front of clothed adults brought back with resounding fury their sense of modesty. It was thus with a startling scream from a small eight year old black boy which captured everyone's attention.

The older gent explained, as the wheal from the cane on the boy's leg became quite evident: "Boy, no covering your boy parts. That goes for all of you."

The boy next to him was quite squirming, and I explained that none of them had been allowed to pee that morning. The ends of the catheters were still sticking out of their penises. It was quite arousing. By the time they were lined up there were, two brown, and two white, and one absolutely black boy nervously awaiting their futures. Two of the boys tried to object when leashed leather collars were fitted about their necks.

"No to worry boys. You will be soon getting permanent metal collars which will be more comfortable. And we demand and will get total obedience. The slightest resistance and you will be punished."

The black boy, only eight years old, started crying.

The trainer quipped: "Crying, along with screaming and yelling during punishment is permitted."

The boys didn't seem to see the humor.

Then there was more consternation as all five clamps on the five catheters were released. It was fun watching the five boy who were totally unable from being seen wetting the ground before them with their own pee. There were two more swishes of the cane and two additional screams getting the boys back in order. By this time each of the boys knew that an easy life was not in their immediate futures. Although the small black eight year old had stopped crying. His rigid 2½ inch [6½ cm] boner heralded his arousal at his treatment.

"Now boys. These collars indicate your status. You are slaves. Today you will be introduced to temporary training quarters where each of you will be confined until properly conditioned to complete obedience. And of course to your new duties, although the man who brought you here has indicated you already have had a good start."

The two men then began a very detailed and intimate inspection of each boy, making them open their mouths, fondling their genitals (while also removing their catheters), and having them bend over to inspect their butt holes. They were already too cowed to object to the gloved fingers which assailed the interiors of their rectums.

It was now the younger of the two men who spoke up.

"Boys. Just to let you know. I was standing right where you are now, not quite eleven years ago. I was a slave here for the next six years and then was sold to a single master. I was his slave for the next three years. Note the heavy gold chain about my own neck. I am still a slave and the man next to me is my master. If you obey and train hard, you too may be as fortunate as I have been."

The boys stood there stunned.

One boy then tried to ask a question, but stopped just in time.

The older man spoke: "Boys, you will soon be required to learn a set of rules. Among then is under what circumstances you may speak. For now boy," touching the boy's chest with his cane, "you may ask one question."

"Ahm, how long do we have to be slaves?" His very anxious face was springing new tears.

"You will soon learn to address any adult as master. Most of you will remain slaves your entire lives. There could be an exception here and there."

I could see all the boys tremble. One sank to his knees crying. A well applied cane and he was again standing.

Just then one of the boys, the oldest one there at twelve years of age, shouted that he was definitely not going to be anyone's slave, especially for life. He pulled away and tried to run. He only took two steps when he fell to the ground screaming.

His words were barely intelligible as he shouted for the pain to stop.

"Next lesson boys, the collars can shock you. As soon as that boy pulled his leash from my hand, it initiated a five second pulse. Another one will happen in ten seconds if the leash is not returned to my hand."

The boy on the ground struggled to his feet and handed the man the end of his leash.

"Good. Anyone else want to object to his new life?"

The older man then asked me a question: "Which of these boys kept giving you sass?"

"The boy on the left end. The Latino."

The boy in question became nervous. He didn't want to be singled out. Even though still 11, he was the biggest boy there. (Though not with the biggest boner).

"Perhaps we will put him to a cart. I think we have several bits which will keep him quite muted."

The boy looked up horrified. "What?"

He received two cuts from the cane before he became silent.

I wondered if it were timed. It was then that two remarkably fit boys, both with beautiful full body tans, though one probably came by it more naturally, pulled up behind us. All the boys were commended to turn about. What they saw unnerved them all. There stood two naked young teens, naked except for sandals and collars, and one in harness. The one in a full body harness was attached to the forks of a small wagon, with several straps of a bridle and bit wound about head and face.

He gave out a startling and a quite respectable whiney. All five boys were aghast. Attached to his bridle was a very obvious bit and attached to that were two reins which were held by the other boy standing off to the side. The one in harness was a beautiful blond boy, perhaps 5½ feet [1.70 cm] tall and with a nearly engorged penis sticking outward and a bit upward about 5 inches [12½ cm] above a beautiful set of testicles well into their journey through puberty.

The other boy, only a bit smaller and with the dusky brown of some mixed race though he looked mostly Caucasian, was smiling. Both boys then bowed their heads.

The older man addressed the boy with the reigns. "Billy. I see you've been rewarded."

Billy looked back at the speaker and replied: "Yes master. Master Quan said my last two customers were quite please with me. I've been given the day off, though this morning we have to pick up trash. But a wonderful day to be outside and wander about."

"And Terry here?" Pointing to the boy harnessed to the cart.

"Yes master. Both of us are being rewarded."

At that information several of the boys perked up, a bit perplexed.

The boy continued: "We flipped to see who could have the fun being harnessed up and I lost. It's a lot of fun pulling that cart."

The troop of boys was eventually marched into the building. The hallway was unremarkable with metal doors containing a large window, on each side about every four feet [1.2 m]. The boys were brought to a 15 by 15 foot [4½ by 4½ m] room with no furniture other than a large 55 inch [140 cm] HDTV on one wall.

"Boys. Watch and learn. After your training this is what you will be doing."

The screen came alive and panned about a scary room not unlike a dungeon out of a medieval castle. On a padded table was a small white boy perhaps 12 or 13 years of age. He was face up in a spread eagled posture, cuffs on ankles and wrist, holding him tight. One could see the palpable fear on his face. All the boys' eyes were riveted. Into the view came a mostly naked man with a handled thing with a whole bunch of lanyards about a foot [30 cm] long. Suddenly swipe after swipe had the small boy shouting and crying. He was pulling hard on his restraints to no avail.

Then the boy was released, 3; and turned over. His back side received the same treatment.

The man released the boy and mounted him from the rear. All 7 inches [18 cm] right up the boy's tender butt.

The next scene showed two boys, even younger, one black and one white, with opposite colored cuffs attached to wrists and ankles. Both were hanging by their feet, upside down on two ends of a see-saw. As one boy went up, a dildo was forced well into his butt, and the other dropped until his entire head was dipped into a vat of mud. (It appeared gruesome and dangerous but a mouth gag with a tube from a small tank of air gave the boy no chance of drowning). The scene was visually arousing. Later, each boy would be used by several men in that same vat of mud. Both mouths and rectums would be well used.

As the five naked boys were escorted to their 'rooms.' they were in heavy shock. Boy after boy was brought to one of the doors. Their shock deepened when they saw what was inside. On one side of the narrow room was a wood boy sized box, about 18 inches [45 cm] wide and only a foot [30 cm] deep. In the bottom was a thin soft pad, and the top was a Plexiglas lid. Each boy was dropped into his box face up. His feet fitted through slots in the back and his arms likewise through holes in the top end. Cuffs were attached to ankles and wrists which were then secured to bolts just outside of the box. Fear took hold of the whimpering boy as his was pulled taught.

"Boy, you soil that pad and you will get ten swipes of the cane. Your training will start in three hours."

The lid was closed and the man retreated and closed the door. The boy was alone in a bare room with his thoughts.

*5*

A very average looking man, in very average clothes, had jumped out of this awaiting van: "Beautiful boys you have here. Remember, we will probably need another half dozen in about six months. We have always been well pleased with your recruits. With only a little stick and carrot, they well become the delight of our boy brothel."

I replied: "Glad to oblige. The boy called Micky, a nice looking Latino, I believe will be special. Treat him nice."

The man replied: "The boys you bring are almost always very enthusiastic. Good luck."

Washington DC was always a problem. The nearest airport I could land with no questions asked was more than a hundred miles [150 km] away. Fortunately the boy brothel I supplied always had their own van waiting.

It was one of the principals who was there to greet me. "Good to see you. How're my new boys?"

"As well as could be, considering they've been in their cages over ten hours. Their catheters are still in and clamped. Just collected their urine an hour ago."

Well Bung did the collecting.

I expostulated: "You have two very special boys in this shipment. One is an 11 year old Latino named Julio. You have already had my comments but I wanted to emphasize just how special he is. His friend, whom he calls Binky, a cute black kid, is almost as good."

The man pointed to the open door of my plane: "He for sale?"

"That's my new boy Bung. Definitely not for sale." The said boy ducked back inside. I remarked: "He gets shy when naked."

It was not nearly so warm as my other two stops. I flew on instruments all the way back, landing at first light. I was so tired when I returned. I quickly checked on the boys in the basement, fed them, and then slept with Bung in my bed for ten hours. And only used his butt once – when I awoke in the middle of the day with him looking into my eyes straight on from 5 inches [12½ cm] away. I could not resist his implicit request.

*6*

As I looked through the window to their cell, I was struck again about the intimacy of these kids' relationship. There was Jeff sitting up on the cot with his back against the wall with the much smaller Jamal sitting between his open legs, and leaning back against him. They were intent on watching the TV across from them. I could not help but notice Jeff's hand fondling his friend's genitals. And though Jeff was watching with relative attention to what was enfolding on the screen, Jamal had his head tucked between Jeff's chest and arm with his eyes closed. I also could not help but notice the striking disparity in skin color. I also decided to make many of the restraint devices in a silver amalgam since I believed it would really set off the coal black skin of Jamal. The one for my client he wanted gold plated.

I was to rudely discover that designing for boys was significantly different than for men. Even minor differences in body type required extensive modifications in the finished object. Even though Jamal's size was quite close to that of my client's boy, their body shapes and configurations were sufficiently different that I would have to make, in large part, separate items for each. Oh well, I'd just charge more.

I opened the door to the boy's cell and was quite happy to see both boys, if not jump, at least move with deliberation into their recently taught 'slave present' mode. Their naked bodies were a delight to the eyes. And to the groin. And I was happy to note that their little boy fifth appendages were at full mast. And it was definitely time to make sure both boys knew they were slaves.

I brought both boys into the hall and gave orders. They were standing at (boy) attention.

"Boys, I will again emphasize. You are slaves. Most probably for the remainder of your lives."

Jeff looked defiant but Jamal shuddered. And started breathing a bit deeper. I pegged him as an absolute submissive. They had begged to be allowed to stay together. And just maybe there was a chance for these boys to remain 'close friends.' If they could last themselves through childhood and puberty, they might just be able to make it as a couple. Slim, but I've seen it happen. Making them slaves would help but only if they were allowed to stay together. And damn! When I sold a boy I never liked making conditions. Well that's what having rules are for. So you can make an exception. But I'll worry about that much later when the idea of selling these two comes about.

"You both have exactly 15 minutes to bathe and clean yourselves out."

They were well versed by now in using the enema equipment.

"For today, each of you will clean the other boy's genitals and butt holes. And give the other his washing out. Thus we can get around the total prohibition of ever touching one's own boy sex parts."

Neither boy seemed yet overly concerned, 3; yet. And Jamal's boy cock was bouncing up and down. They had time to get into the idea of being slaves, although neither boy had yet a true concept of that would actually mean for them. Yet.

"After the shower – no need for towels – you will run back to this mark and stand there in present mode until I tell you otherwise. Then I will take you upstairs – to the actual basement – where you will be locked into my dungeon."

I'd gotten their attention, and Jeff could not stop himself from objecting: "Locked? Dungeon?"

I immediately gave an order: "Jamal, bring back the strap on the back wall."

That stopped Jeff from adding to his troubles. Jamal only hesitated a moment looking at Jeff for 3; Whatever.

"Boy, you will move immediately when given an order." I took delight in watching the muscles in his butt as he ran. And I was amazed by just how black his skin really was. As he moved, there were parts of his body which seemed to disappear in the shadows of the room. He was also thin enough that his butt cleft was clearly on display as he moved. I could also see the fear inn his eyes when he returned.

And the defiance in Jeff's.

"Jamal, punishment position. One swat for your hesitation."

Jeff's muscles twitched and he barely stopped himself from doing something he'd have regretted.

Jamal immediately turned, and bent over with his hands on his knees, even though he was quite visibly trembling. I even saw a tear. And I was trying to gage just hard I could hit Jamal without having him collapse on me. One medium swat and he shook, but kept standing. And quietly crying.

I reversed their positions.

"Jeff, one swat for attempting to speak without permission, and two for the defiance I see in your posture and eyes. You must remember that I now own you. You no longer have the option to even resist in your mind."

By the third swat, a bit harder then the one I gave Jamal, and Jeff too was crying.

"Showers, now!"

They ran to the large shower room next door. I wondered how obediently they would behave. They were not to speak nor do anything not ordered. I had them on camera and also on record.

I never before had collars on my boys before but I think now might be a time to start. I was busy preparing temporary leather ones while watching the boy's shower two floors below. Amazing. Only once did Jeff make an attempt to speak and Jamal refused to reply, at least vocally. He did punch his friend in the arm and touched his lips. I was trying to figure how to play it. I'd never trained more than one boy at a time before. As my slave that is.

I had the first collar finished.

"Bung!" I yelled into the next room.

"Yes master," he breathed out, skidding to a stop. He looked at the collar in my hand and even smiled. I was quite impressed with not just his resolve to be my slave, but his seeming to actually like the idea. Too bad that his next month will be quite a bit harsher. We will then see how he responds. But I was optimistic.

"You are my slave. This is a symbol of that fact. I will make you a more permanent collar later."

I turned him about, measured, and then punched the right hole. And strapped his collar in place. It was merely a modified dog collar, but a relatively upscale and supple one which hopefully would not chaff too much. The silver one I had in mind would be a smooth oval in cross section and lock on.

"Thank you master."

"Thank you?" I queried.

"Master I was hoping. That's what you see in all the internet stories."

I'd worry about his grammar later. I popped his butt a good one with my hand and ordered: "Boy, I was wondering. Did I give you permission to turn on that TV while you were filling the dishwasher and cleaning up the counter?"

A suddenly surprised boy replied: "No master, but I thought 3;"

"Bung." I used his name to make this more personal. "You are not to think, except about how to obey and please your master. There will be exceptions in emergencies, and in other instances, but for now you will do nothing I do not specifically order. Eventually there will be times when you will be able to act on your own initiative, but we are not even close to that time. Understand boy?"

The boy was near tears. Either from shock about the severe parameters of his new life as a slave, or remorse, I was not sure which.

"Yes master. Sorry master."

"A very important question and I want a totally truthful answer. Why your tears?" I explained the reason for my question.

"Master 3;," he hesitated. "Master I think both but 3; I guess mostly I didn't think being your slave would be that hard."

I needed him to learn a very important lesson.

"Boy, it will even get harder. Being a slave is very difficult. But for a very few special boys, it can also be rewarding. I want you to be one of those boys."

"Yes master." His answer was tentative. He probably didn't fully comprehend.

"Boy. Another important question. When you do something for another which requires a sacrifice, and that person likes you that much better in return, how does that make you feel?"

"Good master."

"I want you to totally obey and submit to me. But he assured; I know how difficult this can be. And be assured, I WILL appreciate it."

"Yes master." He now had a tentative smile.

"But today you will accompany me down to the dungeon, which is the basement below us, and you will learn, along with Jeff and Jamal, just what being a slave is all about. For the next several weeks, you will spend a good portion of your time in that dungeon. You will still occupy my bed at night, and at times be my helper as I work. They, however, will be spending their entire time there. You all must learn that I control everything about your existence."

"Yes master."

Bung was now giving me a strange and worried look.

"Master, may I ask a question?"

"Yes boy."

With a quiver in his voice Bung asked: "Will you be hurting us?"

Too much Internet.

"Only if you deserve it. But as you will now experience, you will be disciplined as necessary. Now go to the back room and bring me a strap and a cane. Your choice. Bring one of each."

I smiled when he had returned. The cane was the slimmest I had in that room. And the strap the softest. Smart boy. But he didn't consider several other factors.

"Boy. Which of these would you choose?"

He looked back and forth and replied with hesitation, trying to read me. (Good slave. Very necessary to read your master).

"This one." The cane.

"Tell you what boy. One swat with the strap and one with the cane for your offense."

He assumed the punishment position and I first gave him a very hard swat with the strap on his butt. It was quite supple and the sting would not penetrate very far. But it could feel a bit like fire on his flesh. The cane is another matter; it can either really sting, or with more force or with one more stout, it can seriously hurt, and reach much deeper into the tissue. And if the swipes are crossed, it can even draw blood. And if a master uses it carelessly or with anger, it can debilitate.

I gave Bung a moderate swipe with the cane. Instant tears and he almost buckled. The first time it can come as quite the surprise. But even this thin one could not be as hurtful as the heavier canes used on school kids a century ago. Though it did bring a tear. And a formidable cry.

"Now what do you think boy?"

"Master, the cane was worse. But I know you hit me harder with the strap."

"As hard as I used the strap, I suspect the pain was just as bad, but it was spread out over a larger area. And the cane bites deeper, and the pain lasts longer."

"Now what do you think about being my slave?"

"I'm not sure master. I don't like pain." And then with a slight bit of 'Bung-ness' as I was starting to think of it, he added. "And master, pain really hurts!"

I smiled back. That small bit of contrariness I liked.

I reviewed the replay of the boys in the basement, fast forwarding it after they stood outside awaiting me. I was impressed. Except for that one time Jeff spoke, no deliberate misdemeanors. Only a bit of normal fidgeting. And though this will be addressed, it was still impressive.

I took the elevator to the sub-basement, and came up to the boys who now attained the present position as previously taught. I had their attention.

"Jamal, one reward for not responding to Jeff's speaking to you. Jeff, you know you were ordered not to speak. Did you forget or was it deliberate?"

He hesitated then answered with surprising insouciance. "Sorry master. I didn't think I'd be caught."

"Good. One reward for honesty." Jeff visibly relaxed. "But still three swats for the offense."

Jamal signaled he wanted to speak. I nodded.

"Master, can I use my reward to stop Jeff from being punished?"

I considered a moment. This was a bit new to me working with two boys at a time.

"Jeff must be punished because it was deliberate. But I will accept your reward for one of his swipes."

Jeff took it stoically for a young boy. And for once I didn't see his usual look of defiance.

Afterwards I brought them into the elevator and up to the true basement floor. The door opened and Bung was there obediently waiting, with his eyes roaming all about the large room, with its several cages, two kinds of crosses, padded benches, a special chair, and a full wall of punishment equipment. And several chests and carts on wheels. Some of the things were merely for effect. Like the iron maiden – it was real and had cost a small fortune – and the wrack which I had greatly modified for use on small boys. Instead of using cuffs for the ankles, the boy's feet would be fitted into boots which would spread the pull over a wider area. Same with the arm attachments which were special mitts containing the entire hand. There was also a tension control so that the boy would not be injured. He would be stretched just enough to enjoy it. (OK he would enjoy it only if he were that special kind of boy).

Most people do not recognize just how debilitating some of 'tortures' that can be read in Internet stories, can really be. I would never hang a boy by his arms without other substantial support. Nor do you ever hit a boy in the area of the kidneys. Nor the genitals. Not even as true punishments. I don't care how many times this appears in stories. Not my boy anyway. I want a boy trained, not destroyed. Besides, I always preferred passive torment. Like rigid bondage, though cramping can also be debilitating if not necessarily dangerous. I rarely disallow all possible movement. And I have a muscle relaxant on hand in case it is needed.

And I'm not as severe with my boys as those one the island resort I'd just visited. And the happenings in that video that was shown to the boys was not as extreme as it purported to show. Their boys are valuable property and they would never permit real damage to them. Though it could be a good week before a boy is readied to withstand his next torture session. And I also know that they carefully vetted their customers. And that they sometimes give the boys pain pills even before an event.

My own basement dungeon was quite a wonder to three young boys with their imagination concocting all manner of scenarios. I allowed them to wander about for several minutes and allowed questions. Then I lowered the boom so to speak.

I brought all three boys over to a wooden wall which sprouted chains and manacles. (I had to add a few the previous day). Both Jamal and Bung sprung instant boners as I attached their cute bodies and limbs to the wall. Jeff, however, was as afraid as I'd seen him in several days.

Metal (tapered and rounded) manacles were attached to wrists and ankles. Arms were positioned outward rather than upward. Feet about a foot [30 cm] apart – nothing crazy. Additional leather straps about upper arms, chest, stomach, and thighs. Nothing about the neck. Too easy to result in serious problems. Though I did attach very loose chains to the clip on their dog collars, more for atmosphere than effect.

And then I masturbated the hell out of their little boy cocks while exploring their butt holes. And other areas. This time I added just a little rough handling. I was also slow, methodical, and teasing. I managed to draw Jeff and Bung out a full half hour. Jamal spasmed only after a few minutes. He'd been already near orgasm merely by being attached naked to the wooden wall. I managed to bring him to a second climax at the end.

As the boys recovered I divested myself of all my own clothes except for sandals. The floor was actually a soft composite but heck, I liked comfort.

I next gave them all a tickle torture. I had several very soft feathers. It was Bung this time who nearly gave into hysterics, and all the boys started pleading for surcease. I deliberately pushed them all beyond their 'breaking points.'

I next took a very light flogger from the nearby shelf and asked: "Who wants to be first?'

Immediately Jamal spoke up: "Master, me?"

I was not too surprised. Jamal I believed could become a natural sub. If he isn't ruined.

I started on his belly and chest lightly. The thing barely hurt at this force. But I wanted more a sexual turn on and the message that I owned their bodies and can do as I wish with them.

I then went to his legs and then back again. He seemed to space out as I swung with more force. His boner finally started to deflate. The pain was getting too much even if he didn't realize it himself. I almost went too far. By this time I was ready to attack the nearest boy hole with my own raging boner.

I then did the same with Jeff. He screamed and yelled. And finally told me to stop. I hit him harder in response. He then pleaded. I stopped after several more swipes. He finally recovered and looked at Jamal with wonder in his eyes. "Damn Jam 3;"

He remembered his mistake, and looked to me for permission to speak.

"Too late boy." I merely gave Jeff one more good swipe on his stomach. He winced but did not yell.

Then Bung. He seemed mystified at the first swipes. But then screamed enough near the end.

"OK boys, relax. You have my permission to speak. Any of you learn anything?"

It was Jeff who asked: "Why you doing all this? That thing really hurt. What we do wrong?"

Bung spoke: "Maybe master is trying to show us who we are. That he can decide to do what he wants." Hell, for a boy his age he was sharp.

"Jamal," I prompted.

"Not sure. But I'll be a good slave."

At that Jeff looked at his friend and them back to me and with emotion exclaimed: "Master. Damn you really hurt him. A whole lot more than me even."

"Bung, any comment?"

"Master, ah 3;"

Then Bung him looked at the black boy and asked: "How come Jamal you never even cried?"

Jamal looked up in a bit of confusion. "Don't know. But after a while it was like I was watching it happen."

I finally explained that Bung was partly right about what I was attempting to teach them. I was the master and they the slaves, who obeyed their master. Or submitted to whatever I wanted to do to them.

And another thing I explained. "It's also about sex. A good slave-master interaction is about sex. I know many adults merely use boys for only their enjoyment, and don't care about the boy, but I do. In my own way. At least. Besides, I get a lot of my pleasure and enjoyment out of giving my boy pleasure. But of course it will ONLY be at MY discretion."

Then I proceeded to attach several very important items to their bodies. I already had the cuffs on hand. The chastity cages I had finally finished several days before. The mouth gags I would make later. Same with their butt plugs. All the boys tried to give complaint but I put a fast stop to that. They had to understand that their master held total control, even as to how and when they ate or relieved themselves. I also attached short hobbling chains to their ankle cuffs, and about a foot [30 cm] of chain between their wrist cuffs.

Jeff asked why I was doing this.

"I am limiting your ability to move because you must learn that I now control your lives. Along with your bodies. Another very important rule boys. You will always ask permission to eat, pee, or poop."

I didn't yet mention about their future plugs, in both mouth and butt hole.

It was the chastity cages which really got to them. I had to use the strap on Jeff to maintain his full cooperation. Jamal on the other hand seemed near orgasm all the while he was being fitted. Bung I was happy to note, smiled. He was responding to his situation quite well ahead of the norm. The devises were quite simple. Just a clear plastic sphere and a separate internal tube for the penis. The base had enough of an adjustment to secure it so that it could not be removed. There were a few holes for evaporation and an opening for pee. Some of the ones I'd envisioned for Bung would be more elaborate and even made of metal.

I then locked all three boys into their respective cells. I had to improvise since I was one cell short. Bung was placed into a large (and now cushioned) crate I'd moved down there a few days before. One side I'd replaced with a cross-hatched fencing so he could at least see the other boys. Again I needed to condition the boys to their now very restricted lives. Although this physical restriction would be eventually eased, it was a means of bringing this home to them in a very forceful way that they belonged to their master. They were my property. My slaves.

I thought Bung was about to cry. His lip was quivering as I locked the lid on his crate. That night, Bung, in my bed, was happy again. But he asked me if I still liked him.

"Bung, I'm only trying to make you really understand just what being a slave means. You must learn not to question whatever I decide to do."

Bung would be spending a substantial amount of time confined to my dungeon until he no longer questioned, or even reacted negatively, to what I expected of him. As for the other two boys, I'd changed my mind about possibly having three boys in my bed. I was so besotted with Bung. I had decided that their being out of that dungeon would not be in their immediate futures. Though I still may make use of their boy holes from time to time.

*7*

I decided first to consider, as complete as possible, a list of possible controls and restrictions. And the parameters which I would impose on myself.

First I tried to write down a basic set of rules and precautions:

1. No physical damage
2. No continuous pain
3. Limited discomfort – the idea is to excite a sexual response thus contribute to it but do not detract from it, and careful with cold and heat
4. Restrict movement and control body functions
5. Restrict and/or eliminate body senses
6. Psychological 'torments' (? not yet sure of this)
   • Make subject think some control measure is permanent
   • Make subject think subject is eating feces and drinking urine
7. Total sexual control and/or stimulation
   • Bring subject to brink of orgasm but deny climax
   • Stimulation of genitals
     • Scrotum
     • Penis
     • Urethra
     • Base of penis below abdomen
   • Stimulation of secondary erogenous zones
     • Nipples
     • Region between anus and genitals
     • Rectal orifice and rectum/prostate
     • Mouth and lips

This was just a sort of planning stage. I was only trying to list possibilities and parameters.

Next was a list of actual measures of control and restriction:

1. Total control of all body functions
   • Feeding - forced and controlled
   • Peeing - stent to eliminate bladder control (catheter)
     • Some kind of rigid plug and tube in body of penis
   • Defecation - butt plug/enema
   • Breathing - critical to allow unhindered but perhaps some king of nasal bondage/ring/septum (see #2)
2. Mouth and anal plugs
   • Mouth gag - total control of mouth and tongue
     • immobilization of lips
   • Anal stimulation (see #3)
3. Genital control/and/stimulation
   • Continuous sexual stimulation
   • Prevention of orgasm
4. Total control/or/delimiting of body senses
   • Sight - limiting and/or elimination of
   • Hearing - eliminate all but commands
   • Taste - ? forced feeding
5. Limiting freedom of movement/or/immobilization of body parts
   • Arms, hands, and fingers/thumb
   • Mouth and tongue
   • Head
   • Trunk of body
   • Legs, feet and toes
6. Other restraints and coverings
   • Wrist and ankle cuffs
   • Face muzzle and/or total head covering
   • Body bags or similar items
7. Night time confinement (? Different)
   • Need for some relief ?
   • Safety and/or health precautions
   • Need of some exercise of muscles
   • Avoiding cramping postures

Things on these lists had been percolating around in my head the past couple of weeks. I finally decided the entire thing should first and foremost be about the physical aspects of sex. Including restrictions, controls, and stimulation. The list in importance I eventually sifted down to this:

I first decided to devise something which would make sure that the boy would be in continuous excitation of his erogenous zones, especially genitalia, peri-anal region, butt-hole and rectum. Also his mouth and lips. And possibly his nipples. Whatever I came up with I figured this paramount.

I next considered control of basic body functions. Except for breathing which I deemed important to allow as much freedom as possible. (Breath control as far as I was concerned was too dangerous even to consider). But eating, peeing, and pooping, I deemed exigent to totally control.

Next I deemed the control, or partial control/elimination of senses, important. Sight and hearing definitely.

I next thought about control and/or freedom of movement. I listed what I believed in order of importance. Hands and fingers. Head. Legs and feet. (Possible the restriction of toes). Trunk of body.

And finally I thought of least importance were certain coverings. I pretty much ruled out any kind of body bag, but a face or head covering were still options. Although by now I mostly was thinking in terms of some kind of a full muzzle.

I finally decided that my overall approach would allow as much of the boy visible as possible, for several reasons. I know as an owner, I wanted to see my boy. Also heat control I deemed important. For example everywhere you hear in stories about mittens on a person's hands. Have you ever tried it? Have you ever experienced it? Well put your hands in heavy mitts in a warm room for hours on end. See how totally miserable it gets. And my basic principles included no continuous pain or even significant discomfort. I was definitely going to include some manner of hand and finger immobility but it would not be a full covering. Then it had to be practical. And feasible. And then I started thinking in terms of devices, controls, and bondage apparatus which could combine as many of the objectives as possible.

The very first thing I would construct the boy's chastity control. I decided to allow full (or very near) engorgement of the boy's penis, if I could devise it in such a way to prohibit climax when I wished. So this involved my first experiment. I definitely wanted the boy to have not only a continuous awareness of his genitals, and to stimulate the boy to a high degree of sexual arousal approaching climax but not quite getting there. And at the last minute I also decided I could include in this a bit of torment. The very first attachments would be a removable stent (and/or catheter) which would force the valve draining his bladder to remain open, along with an invasively wide rigid tube which would transit the entire length of the boy's penis and barely emerge at his piss slot. There it would be fitted with a valve only the boy's master would operate. This could do four important things. One, add to the boy's continuing awareness of his own penis. Two, allow for total control of the boy's elimination of urine. Three, allow the introduction of fluid into the boy's bladder. And four, make the boy feel a possible (near) continuous need to pee. I would then add a very tightly fitting penis covering, probably metal. The outer covering would be all of one piece.

On the actual day of preparations for the start of this project, I had suddenly gotten another idea. The inclusion of piercings. I would probably have thought about this with my original design plans, but I'd never actually used any on my previous boys and it had not been an automatic thought. And although Mr. Black's ten year old boy would not be getting piercing either, I decided that my own Jamal would. Quite a few of them in fact. I also decided at the same time to make some of Jamal's attachments permanent ones. It would be his friend Jeff who would be the experimental model for those without the piercing and his attachments would probably be all removable.

*8*

During the periods that Bung was permitted to speak, his mouth gag and muzzle having been removed, he was quite the budding sadist in suggesting ways to make the attachments as confining and tormenting as possible. Several times I'd attach additional restraints on his own body just to impress on him that he too could be subject to serious controls.

And that brings me back to the mouth and butt plugs for my own three boys. The mouth gags, of only moderate dimensions and made of a soft plastic, received the most complaint. Even Jamal complained the next morning after he was forced to endure its insertion the entire night. But they were not nearly so formidable as the ones I envisioned for my experimentation. Their original mouth plugs consisted of an inner bulbous portion which seated behind the boy's teeth, and a smaller portion which extended outward with a wide flange fitting between teeth and lips. When the boy's mouth closed onto the gag, the lips were only forced open about a half inch [12 mm]. (There was a hole for breathing in the middle of the gag). The outer muzzle, which was made of leather, merely strapped onto their heads extending form the nose to well under their chins. It would not permit the mouth to be opened any further. I thought this manner of control over my boys most arousing. The butt plugs were another matter. These I'd already had on hand. I was able to start all three of my boys on their opening up procedures. Again the items were simple. A series of expandable plugs and a belt system to keep them in place. And I sure enjoyed fitting each boy with his own plug. And then expanding it.

Jamal's butt hole was amazingly black in color and I was surprised to note that even his interior sphincter was also black. (His body's extreme production of melanin made even his lips and gums totally black; and his palms and feet were much more affected than on the average black person). I loved how each boy squirmed as I gradually inserted their plugs. All the boys by this time were sufficiently into being used for sex, that they merely understood that this was their normal regimen. Even Jeff barely put up a resistance and easily succumbed to the arousal it caused. Of course after I pumped up the expandable plugs just to the point between discomfort and pain, I also masturbated their little boy penises to the point of climax, first with my hand, and then with my mouth and tongue. I certainly wanted all their attachments to become a source of sexual arousal. In fact, as much as possible, I was trying to make their existence one of a constant awareness of both sex and their own sex parts.

Because of my change in plans about the fitting of the new restraints on Jamal, which would now require a serious number of piercings, I arranged for an expert to come out and prepare him. Jamal seemed to recognize that morning that something very different was about to happen. Especially when I did not reinsert his mouth and butt plugs after his morning cleansing. After attaching Jeff to the wall so that he could watch, I had Bung attach him securely to the special chair which was central to the entire dungeon. (It was where I took so much pleasure in attending to the ministrations and special torments of my boys).

Jamal's entire body was securely attached, wrists cuffs to extending arms by rings on both sides of the cuffs. Then straps about waist, chest below his nipples, and then around each shoulder, coming from under each arm and then over the shoulder. The chair was then tilted back about 20 degrees, and his legs, this time, brought upwards and outwards and attached to vertical poles which I put in place on each side of the chair. His lower legs, now sticking almost straight upward, were secured at both ankle and knee so that he was permitted almost no movement. Finally another band was secured about his forehead making sure that he could not move it off the head rest which extended from the top of the chair. His body was so positioned that there was full access to his groin and butt hole.

The way he was so tightly affixed to this chair had my passion going. I ordered Bung to kneel and bring me to orgasm. By this time he was even able to swallow my modest endowment with minimal gagging. I had also taught him how to use his hands on my genitals and butt hole to increase my own pleasure. Just as I was about to climax I ordered him to insert several of his fingers well into my own rectum. He knew exactly where and how to stimulate my own prostate.

Bung, by now, understood that one of his main duties was to attend to his master's sexual needs and desires. And I could recognize that he even applied himself to learning the proper skills necessary with good zeal. He even snickered several times one evening when he informed me that he'd brought me to climax in record time. From then on it was occasionally a contest – my attempting to hold back my own climax, and he doing his best to make it happen. I was really starting to have strong feelings for my new boy. Especially as I discerned his own efforts to please me more were more out of his own desire than being coerced into it. I knew I would have to be very careful to maintain my position as master.

Seeing that there was still a while before the person for Jamal's piercing would be showing up, I removed Bung's harness, deflated his butt plug and pulled it out, and lay the brown body of my special boy onto the padded bench. I then strapped him down, legs pulled well down onto his upper chest with his feet sticking upward, and with his arms at his side. (Bung liked being affixed like this; he said it made him feel even more sexy). I then proceeded to do my best to give full meaning to the concept of molestation, although in this case my actions were definitely not unwanted. My hands and tongue roamed over his entire body. I eventually twisted two fingers into his butt hole, massaging the interior of his rectum, and sucked on his stiff brown boy stick until his body spasmed enough to shake the bench.

After Bung had cleaned us both up, he allowed me to reinstall his harness, butt plug, and chastity cage, and then brought me his chains. I attached the hobble chain to his ankle cuffs, and another to his wrists. Another chain extended from his hobble chain to a ring on the end of his penis tube. A fourth chain, about a foot [30 cm] long, extended from a loop on his collar to his wrist chain. I then allowed him to put on sandals since he would be running errands the entire day outside the dungeon. I laughed at his contortions at times necessary to accomplish this task, as he was impeded by all those chains.

*9*

By this time I could see that Jamal had become quite fidgety. And Jeff became a bit alarmed as the clothed stranger came into the room carrying two large cases. It was well that he had in his mouth plug so that he would not be disobeying his rule not to speak without permission. Bung, on the other hand, with no current instructions, was kneeling at my side as his normal routine when I was with a visitor.

Since we had never actually met before I introduced myself and my three boys.

His eyes roaming over the bodies of all three boys, he commented: "Damn. Beautiful. They cost you much?"

I laughed: "I kidnapped all three only a short while ago. Bung here has become very special to me in just this short time."

The man smiled. "Wow. My own boy I purchased just last year and he was a bit expensive. But I don't take chances on grabbing my own slaves. Also the boy had been screened, well examined, and even partially trained. I need my time for other things."

"He not with you?" I asked.

"No. He's being punished. He's locked in a small box half filled with wet plaster, and all his rings are attached to the sides of the box so that he can barely move."

My visitor, a Mr. Bud More from another of the islands, explained that his own boy was an eight years old Chinese boy from Hong Kong, spoke relatively good English, and had been with him about a year. And that the boy did not know that the plaster was so designed not to set to full hardness. Just enough to make the boy wonder.

"Besides, the boy likes wallowing in mud and the like."

Mr. More expounded: "Chung, that's my boy's name, now has nine piercings and five permanent rings. Two rings through his nipples, one through the end of his penis, one through his scrotum, and one through the septum of his nose. The others contain bars for future attachments. He's responded quite well, but I've been taking things gradually. I do not want to break his spirit. That young you have to be careful. I plan on at least twenty more piercings and possibly another twenty attachments, both rings and bars."

I was watching Bung and I could see his interest. And his chastity tube was bouncing up and down. Jamal on the other hand was struggling not to speak.

"Jamal, I suspect you now know what is about to happen. You may speak."

With anxiety quite filling his voice Jamal asked: "Master, you doing that to me?"

"Yes boy, but don't be too worried. You will be sedated."

I further explained that he would not have to experience any of the pain associated with his piercings.

I had Bung stand and watch the procedures.

"Just don't get in the way boy. And by the way, this afternoon you will be helping me to finish the three metal collars."

This had Bung smiling. He seemed to like the idea of getting affixed with a permanent collar. He'd mentioned several times that this was the very first time in his life he felt really wanted.

I had all I could do to maintain a proper master-slave association. The scamp was really worming his way into my emotions.

Four long hours later Mr. More was finished up and explaining in detail how to care for the piercings as they healed. They were currently fitted with temporary bars. There were three in the boy's tongue, ten above his top lip, and ten below his bottom lip. One through the septum of his nose, one through each nipple, and three horizontally through his penis, one immediately below the glans, one just above his scrotum, and the final one immediately below his scrotum. His scrotum also had three piercing spaced between its two small orbs. There were four more laddering the line from anus to scrotum, and six more encircling the outer portion of the ribbed flesh of his cute butt hole.

Jeff was made responsible to make sure all Jeremy's piercing were well cared for. He'd been given instructions and necessary medicinals. Jeff stopped being as concerned about his friend when Jamal, now that it was all over, seemed actually excited about what had been done to him. Of course I would also attend to the boy.

That evening I stretched Bung out on my bed, attaching both loops on each of his wrist cuffs to the headboard and cinched a wide belt about his waist. From the belt two heavy straps connected it to the two far corners of the bottom of the bed. I pulled my boy very tight. I then brought his legs up over his body and I affixed straps from his ankle cuffs also to the head of the bed. I allowed enough slack so that his knees could bend naturally. I then removed both gag and butt plug. For the next hour I tormented him by bringing him close to climax again and again, seeing just how I might design the chastity devices I needed to develop for Mr. Black's boy, and of course Jamal and Jeff.

Finally I so aroused Bung that against his slave protocols he started begging for release. I resisted his pleas and eventually came myself as I ran my own engorged member between his legs. After a small period of recuperation I finally had mercy on my boy. I released his chastity tube and cage and very slowly brought him to a very intense and extended orgasm.

Except for a loud sequence of moans and other strange noises my boy finally relaxed and said that he was happy to be my slave. I released him from his bondage and we cuddled together. And just as we were drifting off to seep I thought to myself I'd never felt this way about any boy before.

We awoke several times that night and repeated our lovemaking. And that was when I recognized that it was lovemaking rather than mere sex. Damn! I did not know yet exactly how to have a boy who had become much more than just my slave.

Over the next week I expanded on the designs of the attachments for both Jamal and Jeff, and, using the provided measurements, those for Mr. Black's Oriental boy. At this same time I finished making the permanent metal collars for all three boys. Their collars were significantly different from Bungs which I fitted that very day.

Bung became my ever present companion. And the fitting of his permanent metal collar was very emotional for him. (And me, but I will never admit it).

As I held out the collar to my kneeling slave boy, Bung, I could see his high arousal even with his fitted chastity cage.

"Bung, this permanent collar represents out master-slave relationship. Tell me that you willingly accept it."

"Master, I do."

I took off his dog collar and placed the simple but elegant silver and platinum circle about his neck. In cross section it was an oval about an inch by a half inch [2½ by 1½ cm]. Quite heavy. It came in two halves which went forced together could not be parted merely by trying to pull the sections apart.

Jamal and Jeff spent some time in cages or other kinds of separate training confinements, but as they eventually came to accept their situations I allowed them to have most their time together. When I fitted them to their permanent collars an oval braided web work of bronze and carbon fiber. Quite striking on both boys. And as I locked the one 1 inch [2½ cm] bands about their necks, their reactions were somewhat different. For Jeff, it was as if it had finally come home to him that 'yes indeed I am a slave,' with the permanence of the collar announcing to all who looked at him that he a slave and it was forever. It was possibly the first time that Jeff had finally conceded the fact that he WAS a slave. Jamal, also cried, but for him it would seem that merely because it was such an emotional issue. His emotions were much more complex. There was at least a small part of him who perversely accepted his slavery as a preordained fact of his life.

I eventually allowed Jeff and Jamal a few hours every day out of the dungeon on easy domestic chores. Unfortunately I was to discover a completely deliberate breach of discipline one evening, after having felt a bit of mercy and allowing them some time free of their mouth gags and muzzles. Jeff was speaking softly to Jamal as he held him in his arms. Totally forbidden. I had so emphasized that speaking to the other was allowed but must only occur with their master's permission. I was determined to make sure they'd never forget their punishment.

The very next day, I had both boys strapped down on tables. Their heads had been tilted back and were held immobile, as were their limbs and bodies. I always got a significant thrill of arousal as I took such absolute control of a boy, 3; and his body. (And his sex parts). I forced open their mouths quite widely with an oral speculum. Jeff was trying to voice his objections with loud invective. As I separated his jaws, he started begging. I hadn't told them specifically what I was intending, but their imaginations were probably concocting more dire things then I had even considered. Jamal was not crying, and in spite of not resisting the inevitable, I could see a measure of fear in his demeanor, and a measure of excitement in his manner of conduct and his ragingly stiff black little boy penis. I was almost mesmerized as I watched it tick up and down.

As I approached each boy with a small vial, an aspirator, and specially prepared tool with an absorbent tip, their agitation rose and their movements against their bonds became almost manic. Even Jamal's fear seemed to take ascendancy. After spraying the intended target with an analgesic via the aspirator to deaden the area, I then very carefully coated their vocal chords with a drug I'd found very useful in the past. I did this procedure with slow deliberation. When I'd finally released them an hour later both boys were crying – albeit silently. Their vocal chords had been paralyzed. Though the boys didn't know it, and I was not about to tell them, the treatment was only temporary and would wear off in several weeks. But I wanted them to learn their lesson well.

*10*

Jeff stood totally naked before me. As my hand too possession of my slave, delicately exploring the flesh along the back of his thigh and moving across his butt, my fingers lightly touching the radiating folds of flesh surrounding the dark hole, his 3½ inch [9 cm] dusky hued cocklet jutted forth not unlike a metronome. I took great delight in perusing, and then exploring his beautiful 11 year old body, with its flawless dark Mediterranean complexion. My hands felt his small quivers as they explored his most intimate boy parts, a finger invading his rear hole and several others lightly masturbating him. He knew well that I owned him, was requires to make his body, and all its parts, available to me. I was happy to note that he had finally acquiesced, making absolutely no movement which would indicate any resistance.

I had better get down to business or I would soon be attacking his boy holes. I regarded my slaveboy with satisfaction and addressed him with my rightful authority: "Jeff, you will be fitted with several items today. I demand and expect total submission."

The fearful boy nodded acceptance.

I attached Jeff into the chair, with his limbs firmly strapped into their immobile positions. His arms were attached to the strong arms of the chair, and, after tilting it backwards, his lower legs were bound to the upright poles just as had Jamal been pinioned the week before. His genitals, and anal region, were at the same time shoved upward where I had good access to them. I now thought it a shame that Jeff could not make a sound.

I first showed him the special catheter I'd put together. I'd made sure that it was entirely sterile since the rigid metal portions I had handled quite a lot of course as I had machined it myself. I lubed its entire length, and taking Jeff's circumcised penis in hand – the feel of a stiff boy cock always titillating, I started pushing the tube inside his piss slit. Many boys wonder where all that tube can fit, but Jeff had at least some experience. But he still squirmed quite a lot as the tube gradually snaked its way towards his bladder. There was some good resistance since I used the largest diameter tube I thought could possibly fit. There was even more resistance when the solid metal portion – a highly polished magnesium alloy – started its journey into the boy's body. Jeff made a gasping movement (without vocal sound) as the metal portion made its way inward. The metal portion was 4½ inches [11½ cm] long with a small bend after the first inch [2½ cm]. When the thing was fully seated I wanted Jeff's engorged penis to jut out horizontally. The small internal valve in the interior of the tube was currently closed. Finally, the tip pushed through into the boy's bladder, as the other end of the tube became flush with the opening of the boy's urethra. While in the boy, the valve from his bladder would be forced wide open. When the bladder is full and this valve is open, many experience feeling of peeing even when nothing is flowing. (What I had planned for Jamal would be even more interesting in this regard).

Next came what looked like an open metal tube with a substantial widened bulge down most its length. This I fitted over the boy's exposed penis. There was an interior ring which needed to be maneuvered part way down the length of his penis which at first caused a bit of trouble since it fitted so snuggly. But I finally seated the thing. It appeared that except for the very tip and base of the boy's penis, that it was now well more than an inch [2½ cm] across. By this time Jeff started shaking quite violently. I looked at the boy and asked Bung to get the medium cane. Jeff stopped his unwanted gyrations. Bung, shuffling along with his hobble chain, eventually brought the cane anyway and Jeff started shaking his head no. I put the cane where he could see it. I might possibly need to use at least to threaten, when I started fitting the boy's butt plug. The portion which had to be seated into the boy's rectum was of considerable size and was again metal. (A much more complicated plug, of even larger size, was being engineered for Jamal).

At the base of this bulge of Jeff's penis tube, where it would be just above the boy's scrotum, was an important fitting, but I would attend to that later. Bung, with mounting enthusiasm, handed me the next item. It was a metal cage with small grill-like openings but solid in construction, which would fit over the boy's scrotum and connect rigidly to the above tube. The very base of this cage was a metallic oval shaped ring of which would close very snuggly at the base of the scrotum. Its attachment was quite simple. The thing was hinged. I placed the thing over the small scrotum, and then closed it. It forced the boy's testicles apart from the bottom of his scrotal sac as the small opening locked about its base. Jeff squirmed a bit but made no attempt at resistance. I then twisted a small ring at the base of the penis tube and it mated rigidly with the scrotal cage. I stepped back to admire my handiwork.

I addressed the well strapped down boy: "Anything causing pain boy?"

Jeff shook his head, a bit hesitantly, "no."

"No pinching, nothing very uncomfortable?"

Another "no."

"Need to pee"

A vigorous "yes."

I had Bung hand me a plastic container, and I fitted a very slender key, not unlike a small hex wrench, into the very end of the catheter tube, and turned it a quarter turn. The boy urine flowed into the container amidst a seeming sigh from the boy. Four hundred fifteen cc's [14 fl oz]. Well filled bladder for a boy that size. Must have really needed to go.

Now the hard part – the fittings for the boy's butt. Well easy for me, hard for the boy. If he wasn't already mute, I might have considered a muting mouth gag. I had attempted to engineer something around this but I was stumped. No way but to force a relatively large cylindrical metal object into the boy's butt hole. I was at least thankful that I'd already been resizing the boy's rear opening over the past week or more. Or I should say the boy will have been thankful. The object which would soon make its presence known inside the boy's rectum was mostly cylindrical with a maximum diameter of 1.7 inches [4.3 cm], than tapered to slightly less an inch [2½ cm] across where it passed through the boy's anal sphincters. The intruder ended in a widened flange which would sit snuggly against the radiating flesh of the entrance to the boy's butt hole. The interior end was rounded to aid in its insertion. The one interesting feature on this otherwise smooth object was a large ring with totally encircled it. Along most the length of the interior cylinder were also several machined groves along which this metal ring would be guided. You might possibly now guess what this moveable ring was for. To help hold this thing in place, a curved but rigid flattened extension, about a half inch [12 mm] wide, less than ¼ inch [6.4 mm] think , was just long enough to reach from the boy's now attached scrotal cage back to the edge of his butt plug. I was hoping that with this rigid connection, along with the seating of the cylinder, this plug would be fixed in place. I was trying to avoid using some kind of waist belt contraption.

At the base of the tube was an important fitting which will be explained later.

At the last minute I decided to sedate the boy. I now just hoped that I could insert the thing without tearing the boy's delicate opening. Mr. Black's boy's butt hole had already been resized to fit the girth of his own slightly bigger than average endowment.

Jeff struggled, fruitlessly, as I covered his mouth and nose with a small cloth. He was soon asleep. But I had to work quickly. The mixture I used was not long lasting. With a lot of patience, a liberal amount of lubricant, I finally managed to open the boy's rear opening enough to admit its intruder. I had been very careful to make sure there was no tearing. I then, as quickly as I dared, pushed the thing home until the thing was seated. A perfect fit. I didn't realize I'd been holding my breath during the last part of the insertion. The boy moved a bit but did not awaken. I then attached the last bar between butt plug and the base of the scrotal sac. Again a perfect fit.

Bung congratulated me.

But I was exhausted. This kind of boy molestation was hard work. I would take a break for a while. Well a sex break. I was quite aroused and a perfectly good boy hole – the upper one – was there right beside me. And it was not only available, but willing. (I couldn't wait until I had his other hole sufficiently opened).

I left Jamal in the upright boy enclosure next to Jeff, with a remote, to let me know when Jeff aroused. Also if he were experiencing any difficulty.

The next hour I used Bung's ultra cute boy body as nature intended it to be used. I think I also redefined the word molest. After ravaging every inch of the boy, with special attention to butt hole and genitals, I had him minister to my most important parts with his hands and tongue. Bung was getting very good with both his tongue and mouth. The entire area of my own genitals and butt hole were liberally explored by Bung's hands, mouth and tongue. He had been a good student. And after getting over his aversion to putting his mouth to my butt hole, quite adept in bringing me to intense orgasm. (It helped that he was the one who cleaned me giving special emphasis to my own anal opening including its interior). Also, for the very first time, Bung was finally able to swallow my entire penis without gagging. I was quite impressed not just with his skill, but with his willingness to pleasure so me.

After five orgasms – two of mine and three of his – Bung and I washed up and went to the kitchen for lunch. Bung towed both of us off and while I was dressing, he retrieved his fittings and brought them to me, kneeling as he awaited my attention.

I fitted his cuffs, chains, chastity cage, and his inflatable butt plug.

"Master?"

"Yes boy."

"I think you can make it bigger."

There were actually two valves on his butt plug. One to seat the thing, the other to expand his sphincters. Bung was referring to the latter. I obliged him. I gradually pumped in air until the boy started grimacing. Then added on more small stroke. This time he yelled.

"Good?"

He looked at me with a slight frown and a tension in his voice: "I think so. Maybe as I walk about it'll ease up."

"Good boy Bung. I'm quite proud of you."

And I was. And I was wondering if my affection for the boy was starting to rival my lust for him. I decided that to help keep me grounded in what was important; I implement more stringent controls over his body and bodily functions. Definitely a mouth gag, even if not a severe one, and perhaps a head and neck cage. Well I must now attend Jeff. The small remote Jamal had activated a short time ago. I had Bung get some headache medicine from the cabinet and accompany me to the dungeon.

Jeff was awake and I offered him the medication which he readily accepted. Sometimes being sedated they method I used brought on a headache.

"Have a headache boy?"

A nod of the head.

"Bad?"

Negative.

"Ok Jeff, in a short while I will reward you for being such a good boy."

He brightened up.

And Jamal too. Later today, after this experiment is done, I will allow both of you in the same cell and without your plugs and chastity cages. I will even have Bung here bring you something you both like to eat. I know you both like lemon meringue pie. Bung will also bring you new sheets for your bunk and even key on the TV.

Jeff nodded his head vigorously. And I could see Jamal in his upright enclosure also nodding. I would also probably allow them some quality time outdoors tomorrow. I believed firmly in total control, but still I did not want a broken boy. Only an obedient one. I totally believed that reward was even more important than punishment.

Now to see if the thing actually worked. I brought out a small electric motor and its connected gear box which I had specially designed. The two cables which protruded from the end of the gear box were color coded to make sure I got them right. They would be operating at different speeds. I squeezed a bit of lubricant into a valve on the penis tube, attached the cables – not unlike the ones attached to a car's break peddle – to both the penis tube fitting and that on his butt plug, and the other ends to a motor which would move the interior wire of the cable back and forth. The ring in the boy's rectum would hopefully stimulate its interior, and especially the boy's prostate, while the ring on the boy's penis would masturbate him. I would experiment with the speeds to make sure I could get the desired results.

I started first the one connected to the ring on the boy's penis. It seemed to work beautifully. Jeff's face and eyes lighted up in amazing surprise, and quickly he was panting. I could see that he was quickly nearing climax. I touched a control and the mechanism stopped.

It seemed to take a bit of time for Jeff to become totally aware that I was trying to communicate.

"Jeff, you with me now?"

A nod "yes."

"Good. Did you enjoy that?"

Both a nod "yes" and then a "no."

"You want it back on?"

A nod "yes."

"In just a moment, but now something different."

I switched on the other cable, the one which moved that ring up and down in his rectum. Jeff immediately struggled in his bonds shaking his head back and forth. I slowed the thing down. Then slower. Finally Jeff stopped his forceful movements and started sighing. I sped the thing up just a bit. Jeff started breathing very erratically and opened his mouth. I then turned the penis ring. Jeff very quickly was brought to climax. Success!

Now to see if I can use it for its other function.

After Jeff regained his composure I asked him a series of questions. I finally gathered that it was one of his greatest orgasms. I also learned that he had to pee again, badly. Only a small amount of urine was released and he was a bit perplexed. I was more than a bit pleased. I released one of his hands and arms and gave him some juice.

By this time Jamal was looking on with avid interest. I went over to him, opened the top portion of his enclosure, removed his mouth gag and muzzle, and had Bung bring him something to drink. I also had Bung give him a container in which he could pee. The chastity cage he had on had a hole where needed. The boy was finally able to pee in public without his bladders freezing up. I was also happy to see that the boy's piercings were healing well with no apparent problems.

Back to Jeff. I reaffixed his arm and hand, and then turned on both systems, although with the penis one at a very slow pace. During the remainder of the afternoon I finally devised the right amount of action to finally keep the boy at the brink of orgasm but not allow him any climax. There was one very frustrated boy!

I was ecstatic with my success. I would be fitting Jeff's other 'attachments' the next day. I was sure that Jeff would like them not at all. If all went well, I would also fit the boy into his very special standing cage, along with his severely restricting head harness.

That evening I had to discipline Bung again. I suppose it was really my fault; I'd been letting him almost act as if he were a free boy at times. We'd had dinner – Bung bringing over the food and then kneeling at my side as usual until I allowed him to eat. He cleaned up as usual, but by the time he was finished I'd already been in my workshop finishing up the remainder of Jeff's 'attachments' and standing cage. I'd been so engrossed in my work, looking at the screens occasionally watching the two in the dungeon, when I realized I hadn't seen Bung since dinner. I went into the family room and to my amazement Bung was curled up on the divan and watching some movie on the big screen.

I probably was more disappointed than angry. And then I also realized that it was partly my own fault. I'd been entirely too lax on the boy.

As calmly as possible I spoke one word: "Bung."

Bung looked up and it took him several moments to sort of 'remember' and then quickly stood in 'present' mode. I had to make sure that my lustful interest in his beautiful brown body didn't interfere with what was necessary.

"Bung, why didn't you present yourself to me in the workroom after you finished in the kitchen?"

I could see the extreme nervousness in his stance.

Bung anxiously replied: "Sorry master. But you were so busy and you let me watch a video yesterday."

I had. Probably my mistake.

"Bung, get the medium weight cane that I left in the study and meet me in the dungeon. You have exactly 30 seconds."

I took the elevator and I could hear Bung on the stairs. He actually bet the elevator and was awaiting me. I could see the curious faces of the other two boys craning their heads to try to get a glimpse of what was happening. I closed the outer door to their cell and then ordered Bung over to the punishment bench.

I bent him over lengthwise on the bench on his stomach and positioned his limbs downward with his legs bent at the knees. The arrangement allowed his arms to drop down just missing the floor. His knees I rested on separate rises on either side of the main bench. His feet extended backwards, and fitted into their own small notch. By the time I had his body situated he was heavily crying. I proceeded to strap him in, cuffs at ankles and wrists attached to pinions and anchored tightly. Then straps around the thighs and upper arms. His face was resting in a cradle which looked like a slightly elongated donut affair. A small framework fitted over the back of his head and was latched down. By this time, those small portions of his body which could shake, most definitely were. I especially liked watching the twitching muscles of his cute brown butt. I decided to remove the plug temporarily. I would be aiming at the same butt momentarily and didn't want the possibility of any real injury. The strap over the small of his back also had pads protecting his kidney area.

"Bung, do you understand what is happening and why?"

A quivering voice answered: "I think so. I 3;" The donut affair allowed him to easily breathe and speak.

"Quiet boy." I interrupted. I said it soft and serious, trying to keep my own emotions at bay. I was truly getting to like this boy.

"Bung, you just failed to address me as 'master.' That in itself would seem to adequately describe what has happened. You obviously forgot that you are a slave in all that this entails. And you will remain one far into any foreseeable future. Do you understand boy?"

"Master. It's hard. I mean I know what you want but forever?"

"Bung, by the time I will have you properly trained, perhaps in a year or so, you will have no thoughts of any other life. But that has partly been my fault. I allowed you too many actions which resembled those of a free boy. You are not. You are a slave. And you must never ever have any doubt of this. I, at least currently, am your master. And as much as I would lament it, I will sell you if you do not conform to my wishes. You understand boy?"

"Sorry master. I'll be good. I promise. Just please let me stay."

"Very well. But you must be punished. And I recognize now I will need to take more severe steps to make sure you keep remembering that you are a slave well into the future. Now before we start I want to make sure you know exactly why this is happening. Can you tell me that boy?"

"Yes master," Bung spoke haltingly. "I forgot to get your permission before watching the movie."

I was quite disappointed with Bung's unsatisfactory response.

"Bung, I believe you have just committed an even more serious offense. Tell me now so not to compound your misfeasance. Exactly how did you misbehave? I want to know exactly what you were thinking at the time."

"Master, please. I'll be good. Don't hurt me."

"Answer boy."

A heavily weeping boy finally replied: "I saw that DVD in the case last night. I really wanted to watch it. I thought you were so busy you wouldn't get bothered that I never came to you after I cleaned up."

I sighed heavily. He was a boy after all. And eight years old.

"So you deliberately didn't get permission, and then lied about it?"

A tremulous voice answered: "Yes master."

I picked up the heavier cane and hit him a good whack on his bottom. He wailed, 3; after he could get his breath. I allowed that stroke to 'settle in.' It is amazing how a heavy swat with a cane can keep hurting. I gave him another just below the first almost near the upper part of his thighs. An even higher pitched scream.

I left the room recognizing that I was getting too emotional. I came back with two ice cold bottles of water.

I then released the boy's straps, and helped a very shaky boy to his feet. My lust rose in me looking such a magnificent boy body, stunned to see his also quivering brown cocklet sticking out straight. I quelled my lust ruthlessly. There were more important matters at hand.

I pulled the quivering and crying boy into my body and hugged him tight. My own very mixed emotions were soaring.

"It's OK boy, it's all over. You disobeyed and then were punished. It's done."

"That's all? Only two?"

I almost laughed. "You think you need more?"

"No master, they really hurt."

Even with his brown complexion I could see the two fiery welts. He'd feel them for a good while."

Boy, you need to understand one very basic fact. You are now a slave. I will take good care of you but you are my slave. You must never forget that."

A few hiccups and then a reply: "Yes master. I promise."

I decided to take additional steps right then to make sure my boy would not be so tempted to misbehave. I call them body reminders. All too soon, the fact that I kept him naked had lost its ability to tell him his life has changed.

"Boy, those two bottles? Give me one and take the other. You can use something to drink."

"What? 3; Oh, thank you master."

I was distressed not to see anything but a sorrowful and mournful face. But I had to take steps before it got worse.

I went to a large drawer and looked through its items. And then opened another. I finally took out small leather mittens and then a much more severe chastity attachment. This one came with a belt. And on a last whim I took down a severe posture collar I was hoping would be small enough. I hadn't used the thing in years. And then in another drawer a set of size small knee pads. My boy would not be walking upright for a while. Except foe when I needed him upright.

"Come here boy and present."

With alacrity he positioned himself, and looked with more curiosity at what I had in my hands than alarm.

"You may speak boy until I say otherwise."

"Yes master. What's all that for?"

"For you boy. To help make you remember."

I first had him put on the small mitts. They would force his fingers into a curl yet allow space so that his hands did not overheat. His thumbs were also immobilized. He needed help to get them all the way on. I secured the straps.

"Master. How will I do things? I can't use my hands now."

"I will take them off as needed."

Bung's 3½ inch [9 cm] stiffie was still stiff. And most alluring. I was hating to have to do what was coming next. I take so much pleasure seeing my boy's penis. His previous chastity cage was transparent and allowed the penis full extension. This one surely did not.

I started with the wide leather belt which buckled in the back. Bung gave out a small "oof" as I tightened it. There were straps which hung down from it. Two in the front were eventually attached with a metal ring which would just fit over the boy's genitals. The back of this had a heavy cord which would then be threaded through the boy's butt cleft and be secured in the back of the belt. There were several different attachments which could then be used. The chastity tube I picked out was severe. It was barely more than a ½ inch [12 mm] in diameter and about 2 inches [5 cm] long including its extension. The piss end was totally closed off. For the boy too pee it had to be removed. He'd have to ask permission each and every time. A variety of butt plugs could be used. I chose a moderate sized one with a relatively large bulge, about 2 inches [5 cm] across, followed by a diameter I was hoping the boy could now take, keeping his sphincters dilated to about a full 1¼ inches [3.2 cm]. The plug was quite soft and could even be compressed a bit.

Even so my boy cried as I forced it into his butt hole. He never made a slight move to resist as I placed his body over my knees and started pushing it home. The lubricant finally allowed it to slide its way and Bung gave out a big "ah" as it seated itself, allowing his butt hole to at least relax around the narrow portion of the plug. I then pulled his hardened penis and scrotal sac through the small ring shaped fitting attached to the dangling straps of his belt. He only moaned a few times as I was manipulating his immature nuts. There was a hardened groove in the back of the plug through which I fitted the cord. Then I pulled it upward and it too attached it to the waist belt. I made sure it was fitted securely and there was no pinching of his genitals. Damn his penis seemed about to burst the seams. I was going to have a good time shrinking it.

"Hold that plug in boy," I quipped. "Walk about some."

He complied.

With very serious eyes he objected: "It's too big." He came back but kept wiggling his butt, trying to get more comfortable. But made no more complaint. And his fifth appendage was as stiff as ever.

I'd been sitting in a stool so I made him get the other things I needed.

"Boy, in the second drawer over next to the sink you will see some alcohol. Bring that over to me along with a small bowel and a cup of ice."

Bung looked at me with several questions near his lips but did not ask them. It was amusing to see him work with the mitts on his hands. But he seemed to be determined. The alcohol was not too difficult. The drawer he improvised using his toes to open. The bottle he clutched with two hands. He next went for the cup and tried to fit it under the ice filler on the fridge. He only dropped it once. I couldn't believe it. By the time he'd finished he smiled in satisfaction at his efforts.

I filled the cup of ice with the alcohol, and set it down to let the liquid get cold. Very cold.

"What's that for master?" Bung pointed to the cup of ice.

I picked up the small cup, pulled him to me, and pushed his very stiff worm into the freezing mixture. He yelled but didn't try to pull back. It quickly wilted and just as quickly I pushed the small penis tube onto the now very small fifth appendage. There was a groove for the scrotum as the other end clicked into the base ring already in place.

Bung looked down almost in astonishment. It was almost comical as he wiggled some more.

"Go on, you have my permission to touch it."

He did so. He wiggled it all about with his mitted hand and then started to moan.

Soon the boy looked at me accusingly and lamented: "Master. It's too small!"

I laughed. "First you complain that your butt is fitted with something too big, and now that you little peepee with something too small."

Bung looked at the small metal tube and then asked suddenly: "Master? How do I pee?"

"You don't. Until you ask me permission." I was actually looking forward to it. I liked handling one of my most important pieces of property.

The Bung almost gave out a keening noise. "Master, it HURTS!"

His penis was trying to refill. I laughed. Look boy, I know that how it feels. You just have to get used to it. This is punishment you know."

A sorrowful boy finally conceded: "Yes master. How long do I have to wear it?"

"We shall see boy. Depends on how good a slave you are."

Bung walked about some more trying to adjust to both plug and tube and then abruptly asked: "Master, I just thought. How about tonight? You know. In bed?"

I pretended ignorance. "What about 'in bed'?"

I couldn't believe just how shy my boy could be. After all this time and all the times I brought him to dry orgasm. And all the times I ordered him to bring me to orgasm by varying means.

"You know master. Sex stuff."

"Exactly what sex stuff boy?" I was trying to keep a perfectly straight face.

"Master! When I get a good stiffy. How will I get a stiffy?"

"You don't."

Bung liked at me with reproach. "But master. Then I can't 3; you know!"

"No you can't. Remember this is punishment."

A mournful reply: "Yes master. How long I got to have this on?"

"Again boy. We shall see. Surely until I know you can be a good slave boy."

"Yes master." There was a short pause and then Bung asked: "What now master?"

"We're not quite finished here."

I put the knee pads in the boy after momentarily detaching one side of his hobble chain. He looked at me questioningly. "What's them for?"

"Get on your hands and knees boy."

Bung complied, still not sure what I was about to do. I decided not to use the posture collar. But I did pull up each of the boy's lower legs in turn and using the clips on the side of his belt, fastened his ankle cuffs to the sides of the belt. He'd now have no option. To move it would be on all fours. I then retrieved a leash from the drawer and clipped it to the front of his collar.

Bung got the message and even started to make like a dog.

"Woof! Woof!" He even smiled as he turned his head to look up at me.

"How long do I have to be a dog master?"

"Bung, this is important. You most definitely are not a dog. No more woofing. You are a delightful boy. A boy! Obviously you will only be on hands and knees from time to time. And I must admit you are quite cute that way."

After taking care of Jeff and Jamal for the night, cleaning up their dinner dishes – right now easier than having Bung do it – I led my boy into the elevator and had him at my feet (on hands and knees) as I finished the items for Jeff.

I released Bung from the clips to his ankles but nothing else as I cuddled next to him in bed. "Boy, you know your duty."

He did. He stinted not at all as he used his mitted hands and talented tongue on my own tender parts. He eventually mouthed my ragingly stiff penis and this time actually managed not to gag as he swallowed my entire load. And an hour later did it again. And only once did he complain about his 'poor, cramped' penis. His words.

The next day I was interrupted during breakfast with a call. Bung, I'd allowed out of his mitts, plug and chastity tube for morning bathing and hadn't yet refit the mitts. I used the same waist belt. However, I used a much more friendly tube, one which was less trouble to fit. But I decided not to allow him any orgasm for at least several more days. Bung was getting good at serving meals he helped me prepare.

"Damn. Who's calling this early?" I grumbled weekly.

It was Mr. Black. After the usual pleasantries he came to the point "How's my order coming?"

"Finished just last night. Testing out another set on one of my own boys today in fact. If all goes well, the entire package will be in route by currier later today. You should have them tomorrow."

"Fabulous. I will be looking forward to it. Will my boy have fun with his new attachments?"

"Definitely not, if his master so chooses. But whatever the scenario, I'm sure his master will. Your boy? You will be able to make him one very frustrated boy. There is also a specialized upright boy cage which is part of the package. Nothing too severe. I wanted your boy to be able to enjoy things without any undo pain or even severe discomfort, if his master would so choose."

We then talked about possible future projects if he liked what he purchased this time. I described what I was shipping and explained about adjusting some of the items for his particular boy.

"Mr. Black. All boys react a bit differently to certain stimuli. Let me know if you need help with the adjustments and settings."

I essentially guaranteed him success. Damn. Now everything had better work.

By the time I'd finished breakfast I told Bung not to worry about clean up. There was the usual weekly team today that cleaned the entire premises. They could do the clean up.

"Bung, get your leash and knee pads. No mitts, not clips."

He did and I escorted a boy to my workroom where I retrieved quite a collection of newly designed items. I put them in a cart and we took the elevator down. Bug seemed all smiles again this morning and seemed to pick up on my own excitement.

I took Bung off leash and had him get Jamal his morning meal. (Jeff would be doing without). I again checked Jamal's piercings, and had him clean up their cell, showing where the cleaning things were. Quite soon he would be in no condition to do any work. At least for some time. I had not yet decided just how long. I would keep him in bondage but it would possibly be more than a week. At least he would have Jeff for company.

*11*

I put back in his catheter, drained his bladder, and then attached his penis tube. He seemed more excited than anxious. He had a bit of little boy body odor for not showering for a day but nothing unpleasant. I was happy to see that his butt was clean as I pushed inward his butt plug. He stoically hung on and grunted a bit but did not yell as I finally pushed the thing into his awaiting rectum. Finally I asked him if there was any real pain.

He shook his head "no." I could see that he was quite frustrated in not being able to speak. I was too. I could have used a bit more feedback. I should have only used mechanical means to muffle the two boys. I suspected it would be a good week yet before any noise would be generated by their vocal chords.

Finally I was satisfied that the attachments to penis, scrotum, and rectum were secure. I pushed a finger between the connecting piece from butt plug to scrotum cage and I was satisfied in its tight secure fitting.

"Bung, bring over the cabinet we brought down."

"Yes master."

Both boys looked with curiosity as I proceeded to set up Jeff's standing cage. It really wasn't that complicated. First the heavy base. It was a heavy oval slab of hard wood about 2½ feet [75 cm] across. It was quite heavy and could also be anchored if necessary.

"Jeff, step onto the block of wood. You will see outlines for your feet."

Nervously he complied. He almost tried to hold his heavy penis tube until I swatted his hand with a slim strap.

"No touch!"

He knew what I meant. I didn't get in a punishing mood, however, since it could be seen that he was only trying to move without discomfort to his precious boy parts. Little did he suspect that his precious parts would soon be sending many other messages.

The bottom part of the cage, up to the boy's neck, came in four parts. It was constructed very carefully by contouring, and then welding together, slender metal rods and bands. There was no opening more than perhaps 4 inches [10 cm] square. Of course there were strategic pieces which fitted quite tightly to the boy's body but in most part there was just a bit of space. The back portion extended from the feet to the neck and would fit the contour of the boy's body very closely.

I set the back piece in place. Extending portions of the framework fitted into holes in the base. I anchored the bottom with several bolts. Jeff fortunately stood still as portions of the frame snuggled against the base of his feet and the base of his butt. I made sure the contours at these places fit his body contours very closely. The fit about the base of his cute butt was perfect. I also made sure that the neck portion fitted exactly below his metal collar. His arms were still outside the confining cage. These will be enclosed separately.

Next was the front piece. This would need to be secured to the front of his body yet make room for his attachments, and the cables not yet attached. As I maneuvered it into position I was quite pleased with the fit, especially around his feet and toes. Each toe fit into its own compartment. The framework over his feet allowed almost no movement upward, or in any other direction for that matter. The front neck ring latched to the back, and in four other places latches were engaged. Next the arms and hands. These were a bit trickier. The boy's fingers and thumbs would be fitted into their own compartments. The inner portions of the cage for his arms, hands and fingers, were already in place on the outer portion of the already fitted portions. I pushed the boy's right arm against the frame and fitted the outer part over it, making sure his digits were properly placed. The same for his left arm and hand. The boy was now totally trapped. No portion of his body below his head could move more than a quarter inch [6½ mm], yet his entire body was visible. Nor could any part of his body touch another part. Not even his fingers or toes.

Unfortunately, Jeff started getting very uneasy. And tried to test his bondage. Obviously not a natural one for bondage. I suspected that by now Jamal, on the other hand, would be in quite a state of arousal.

I put my hand heavily onto Jeff's head and explained: "Look boy. There is nothing that will hurt you. This is just a test. But you WILL cooperate if you do not want any punishment."

Jeff seemed to settle down, but still tried to move portions of his body. I decided to take no chance. I attached an external cable from a ceiling pulley to the upper back portion of the frame. At east now he could not tip over. I was concerned about the possibility of his going bonkers as I fitted his face and head portion of the cage.

I had debated quite a lot about how much of his vision I would eliminate and compromised by making several additional attachments which could produce different results. The basic frame for his face, however, would only have one ½ inch [12 mm] band immediately across his eyes, giving him some vision, but seriously limiting it at the same time.

As did the bottom, the head and face portion came in two main parts. The back part actually attached rigidly to the base just below his neck. In that way, after the entire thing was put together, his head would be severely limited in movement in any direction. For this next procedure, since I expected a lot of resistance, I attached a wire to the base of his butt plug and attached to this a small source of current. Quite enough to sting but not disable.

Jeff looked on anxiously.

"Jeff, I will now be fitting you with the top part. Do not panic. Nothing will hurt you. But I must have your total cooperation. You will make absolutely no effort to resist. Do you understand?"

A now frightened 11 year old boy tentatively nodded "yes."

The back portion fitted closely to the back of the boy's head covering it from the forehead to the nape if his neck. The openings here were less than 2 inches [5 cm] square. The piece had to be brought down from the top and then secured at the neck. It also fitted snuggly against the base of and behind his ears. Now for the part he would most assuredly not like.

Though the boy could not now move his head it would still take effort to complete his imprisonment. I showed Jeff his intricate mouthpiece. It too was made of metal but it was also heavily coated with rubber – the only piece that was. It was precisely engineered so that it would totally fill his open mouth when it was about half open. Thud it would not force it open severely.

"Open your mouth boy."

Jeff looked at the strange thing and refused.

"Look boy, you've been fitted with mouth plugs before. Now open your mouth."

Jeff again hesitated and I touched a remote. His entire body spasmed. A few tears ran down his cheeks.

"Open."

He complied with fear in his eyes. I pushed the gag inside. There were several components, each quite precisely executed. When I allowed his mouth to close as far as permitted, there would still be about an inch [2½ cm] from lip to lip. The interior bulb would then fill the entire interior behind the boy's teeth, just allowing him to swallow. What disturbed the boy was the fact that his tongue fitted into its own slot. A bolt-type projection still extending outward from his mouth. Next came a piece which fitted between his teeth and lips. I pushed this part forward onto the bolt first pulling his upper lip over it and then the bottom. By this time he was trying desperately to swallow. Finally came an exactingly form fitting piece which essentially formed the large muzzle portion, extending from the boy's nose, over the entirety of his lips and much of his cheeks, and well under the boy's chin. It was molded to caress every contour. A simple wing nut was turned onto the machined portion of the exiting bolt. I twisted it closed until the muzzle portion fit snuggly against the boy's lips and face.

Damn! I wished the boy could vocalize. Oh well. The remainder of his body was sure making 'noise.'

Now the face plate. This portion had to be pushed a bit upward since there were small projections which actually extended into the boy's nose about a half inch [12 mm]. The ears would also now be covered. The piece fitted closely about the contours which had remained open. There were only two more fittings. These fitted into slots and were made to fit precisely into the boy's ears. Made of a soft plastic they were maneuvered inward and just about would fill the entire ear canal being sure not to touch the delicate drum membranes. The boy could now hear very little. His mouth and entire head was almost entirely held immobile. A half-inch [12 mm] bar covered his eyes very closely greatly limiting his vision.

Jeff was now entirely at my mercy. And I intended to take full advantage of it. I was also glad to notice that he tears had stopped and in fact he no longer had that look of fear.

I decided to reward him in spite of my previous plans. I'd allow him one orgasm. I drained his bladder one last time, injected a bit of lubricant into the penis tube fitting, and hooked up cables and motor.

Bung was gaping at my creation, walking all about looking intently at every portion of Jeff's enclosure.

I gave him permission to speak.

"What do you think Bung?"

"Wow! Master, will you be doing that to me?"

"Do you want me to boy?"

Bung looked at me, then back to Jeff, then back to me. "Does it hurt?"

"No pain boy. Not even especially uncomfortable. But very frustrating. He can barely move. And I can keep him in that for quite some time. You saw the way I can allow him to pee. There is also a part of his butt plug which can be removed so his poop can get cleaned out. There is a hole in his mouth gag where I can give him liquids. And he can also help breathe through that same hole. Just think. I can even wash him from time to time."

I looked at Bung who was still wide eyed. "I was just thinking boy. Maybe I'll keep Jeff like this for a month or two."

Bung looked at me with horror. "Master, please don't!"

"I was only joking Bung. I'll probably take him out of it by at least this evening."

I would also be keeping good tabs on the boy. I did not want him to panic. I had a fast acting drug in hand just in case. It would take too long to remove him if that happened. Even when I went upstairs to work I would bring the boy with me.

But now for the climax. (Pun intended).

I switched on the motor and adjusted the control to bring the boy to slow climax. The boy's breathing and his entire carriage changed. He started moving in an erratic manner. I had Bung clean up the dungeon while we awaited the inevitable. I was also timing it. Yesterday, at these settings, Jeff had an orgasm in about twenty minutes.

Jamal was again cared for and I again gave him permission to watch some movies. He too appeared quite agitated about not being able to speak. He finally knelt and tugged my hand. I allowed it. He then showed he wanted to write something.

He asked about Jeff. I told him Jeff would be back for dinner and was OK. Jamal finally relented and, positioning his chains, sat down on his bunk. But I had a surprise for him. Between each of his movies I had inserted a 15 minute video of some extreme man-boy sex. He needed to be educated after all.

"Boy, I will quiz you this evening about what you watched today. You better pay good attention."

A seemingly puzzled boy nodded "yes."

Bung yelled from behind me: "Master. He's really moving!"

I took several steps toward out caged boy to see that he was twitching all over. I looked at the clock. Twelve minutes. Fast. I would eventually inquire about his experience when I could finally communicate with him. Damn! I should not have used that drug to stop his voice. Oh well. I learned from this mistake.

I then reset the controls so that he'd be fully sex charged but without climax. I hoped. Well it was an experiment after all.

I soon discovered that the settings I used yesterday were off. He again climaxed in about 30 minutes. During the day I had to reduce the settings twice until I could get the results I desired. But from 12 noon, until 6 o'clock, Jeff was a perfect picture of frustration. I sent an e-mail to Mr. Black with my new findings. And collected his own boy's cage and attachments and had Bung carefully package them up and placed in a crate. A currier picked it up and assured me they would be in the late afternoon's flight.

*12*

"Master. I can't say why exactly. Just, they seem to excite me."

I was glad that the drug had finally worn off. But probably not nearly as happy as Jamal himself.

All Jamal's new jewelry – all silver – had finally been fitted. Where it could be seen, it contrasted beautifully with his very dark skin. Small bars, with equally small ball ends, were fitted right through three places near the end of his tongue. For a while he kept sucking on them. Likewise ten small bars were fitted just above his upper lip and another ten below his lower one. In the right light it looked positively macabre. There were two delicate rings through his nipples, and a large ring, about an inch [2½ cm] in diameter through the very bottom hole punched through the flesh of his scrotum between his two small boy balls. The remaining two holes in his scrotum, above the one mentioned, sported bars with large ending balls. Jamal said that it was hard for him not to think about his boy parts. Of course that was a good part of just why I had this done. There were six small bars now radiating outward from the black pucker of his butt hole. Quite delightful to see them move as his rectum is plowed with my own member.

Jamal's penis now also sported larger bars through the holes below and above his scrotum. Through the horizontal hole just below the glans of his penis was a substantial ring about an inch and a half [4 cm] in diameter. It was spectacular. Jamal was punished a couple of times when I noticed him playing with it.

The first time Jamal objected to his punishment: "But you never said. It's not my penis I was touching!"

I laughed but then still gave him two swats with the supple cane. I realized that I would also have to be careful. When I used only minimal force with light floggers, canes, or paddles, Jamal seemed not in the least bothered. He'd cry and scream, but he still seemed to accept it with a smile. Ok, the smile would come after he recovered from the minimal pain.

The only piercing which Jamal seemed not to like was the one though his nasal septum. I finally just had the hole fitted with a sizeable grommet. It would have an important future use.

And Jeff was also finally cooperating without any of his previous willfulness. He responded to rewards with enthusiasm. In addition, he was becoming quite skilled with his mouth and tongue. I discovered that Jamal had a lot to do with this as he directed his friend during the times I permitted their congress with each other. It was delightful to watch and I sold a good number of videos.

Bung was adapting quite well. He was now very dutiful in his relationship and I'd not have to punish him for the past four days. I now usually had him in full slave harness – he really liked this – together with his usual cuffs, chains, and plugs. He was now never without a butt plug, and the occasional mouth gag and muzzle. He mentioned several times he even liked what he called: "Being gotten up like a slave boy."

(Not only were these things intended to emphasize the fact that he was a slave, and that his body and special parts were owned by his master, but they also were to make the boy feel like a slave. And of course be conscious of the fact that his body was designed for, and to be utilized for sex).

And finally I was now able to use the boys' butt holes for which nature intended! Bung's only difficulty was forgetting that service of my sexual needs came first. He would get so engrossed in some of his activities, and his own feelings, that he had to be reminded. I had to break him of the habit of telling me just how to plow his boy butt hole and rectum with my own penis. He'd discovered that a certain spot craved contact. Jamal on the other hand seemed to be the quintessential bottom. And submissive. That black body would seem at times to automatically respond as the one using it wanted. Jamal seemed to effortlessly remember just what pleased the user the most (both myself and Jeff), and never seemed to need direction. Jeff, on the other hand, would sometimes try to be the aggressor. Perhaps later in his life he might possibly become a good master. But for many years to come he'd be the slave I trained him to be.

As for the boys I'd delivered to the boy brothels, they'd all became quite a hit with their customers. And as for the island boys, all but one eventually 'cooperated' with whatever their clients wanted of them. And to do to them. Unfortunately that one boy, a 12 year old cute Latino, was quite a disappointment, since he seemed to like boy-boy sex. Just would never give in to what his customers wanted to use him for.

I remember the call I received just a few days ago from his trainer.

"Just wanted to mention, just how pleased we are with the boys you sold us."

He went on to describe just how, with only a short training time, each of the boys became perfectly good and obedient slave boys.

"Of course there is that boy who would not submit. We decided that it wasn't practical to have to punish him so severely, that he was unusable for a day or two. So we sold him to Jacques."

I was a bit sad for the boy. Jacques made extreme modifications on his boys, subjected them to literally weeks of severe bondage, and them posited them in his own boy brothel in Martinique. There it didn't matter how uncooperative was the boy. In fact his customers preferred a boy who fought them. I asked about the boy.

"As he does with all his boys, he puts them in permanent chastity, takes out all their teeth, and keeps them in some form of bondage. They are chained to a stanchion in a suite and never leave until they start to mature. The only good thing that can be said is that he makes sure the boy's health is maintained. He then sells them to a brothel specializing in teens. Whatever happens after that, the boy, even as a man, is never released from slavery."

I told him that my next assignment of boys would include a free one to make up for this disappointment.

"Not to worry. This is the first in years who did not prove tractable. You have a knack of picking up the right boys."

It was not a knack, but took a lot of research on each boy. But whatever.

Bung was kneeling next to me awaiting my next order. He had proven to be a very good slave. I just had to be strict with him. And give him a reminder now and then. But what really captivated me was his smile. He was a naturally happy boy. Even as a slave. Of course, compared to most, I was a total softy with my boys. A friend of mine in the States remarked that he couldn't understand why I allowed my boy to have any orgasm at all. I told him that it pleases me. However, what I must confess, I wanted a boy who eventually responded positively to his master-slave relationship. And I have been pretty fortunate in my choice of boys over the years.

That brings me back to Jamal and Jeff. It was finally time fore Jamal to be 'caged.' And I will have Jeff watching from his perch atop a nearby shelf where he will have been anchored by his four cuffs. He was also sporting his usual chains, chastity cage, and two plugs, one in his butt and the other in his mouth. Except for the mouth plug and muzzle, these items had now become the normal slave accoutrements for Jeff and Jamal.

Even Jeff came to accept, and at times, even enjoy, his times caged and hooked to the stimulators. But now it would be Jamal, and it was Bung who would, as expected, help me to 'cage' him. What neither slave knew was that I fully intended to keep Jamal in bondage for an extended period. At least a week. But I'd be merciful. I would allow him a good orgasm from time to time. And Jeff's presence. In fact I had decided to have Jeff tote him around wherever I had him go.

Jamal would be fitted and 'caged' much as had Jeff. But his attachments, however, would make use of his piercings. The penis tube included actual pins which would be inserted through both tube casing and the penis within.

As the beautiful black boy stood totally obedient in front of me, he only evinced curiosity as I took hold of his strainingly rigid black penis, and used an invention of mine to push a stent up into the interior of his urethra. This would be permanent. He would never again be able to control the emptying of his bladder.

"This might hurt just a bit boy, but don't be concerned. You will not be harmed."

"Yes master. Master may I ask what it does?"

Yes boy. Remember when I put that long tube into you?"

"Yes master."

"And remember you couldn't stop your pee from coming out?"

"Yes master. A lot of the time it felt that I kept having to pee."

"Well this will do the same thing. It will make you unable to stop your pee. And it's permanent."

This finally shook the small black boy. "Permanent, master?" he asked with emotion.

"Yes boy. Remember you're a slave. Your master wants to control when you pee."

The boy shook and reluctantly replied: "Yes master."

I pushed the stent along and finally felt its entry through the bladder's valve. The boy cringed at the small pain involved in spite of all the lubricant I used. I positioned it and then released the trigger. The thing instantly expanded and anchored itself with the valve now wide open never to close. Jamal screamed at the sudden momentary pain. Fortunately it was fleeting.

Bung had a container waiting as the yellow urine flowed emptying the boy's bladder. After it was finished, an occasional drip would drain down from the opening of the boy's 3 inch [7½ cm] draining tool.

"Master, I need to pee but nothing is coming out. Only drips."

"Not to worry boy. You'll get used to it. Now another attachment. It will be how your master will now control your peeing."

The boy looked at his own penis with some dismay. He sure hoped that the new tube thing his master now held would work. A similar metal tube which had been the last portion of the catheter that was pushed into Jeff's penis was now pushed into Jamal's. This one differed in one very important aspect. The very end was also threaded on the outside and would be held in place by being threaded into the penis tube. (I was in the process of designing a small simple valve I'd be able to place in the boy' penis, for when I wanted control in my hands).

As his penis was being manipulated and the metallic tube was being inserted into his piss slit, Jamal started to climax. Both the boy and his master were surprised. Being handled like this was apparently quite a turn on by the boy. Jamal himself could not exactly understand why but the entire idea of things being done to him – sex things – over which he had no control, just did something to him. Even the idea that he could no longer have control over his own peeing.

Next came the penis tube which Bung handed to his master. I had to get Jamal's penis to fully engorge to complete its fitting. This would be much more difficult than the one I put on Jeff. I had to line up two pins which would transect both penis and penis tube. The middle portion of his penis would be allowed free, over which the inside ring would travel. I placed the tube over the black penis. It contrasted nicely against the silver of the tube. The first pin through the penis immediately under the glans took some time to match up with the interior piercing. But amid several gasps and yelps from Jamal, I was finally able to push the thing through. The one side already had a stop. It just took another one on the other side of the tube to be screwed on the small threads. The next pin went through the very base of the penis immediately next to the boy's scrotum. It took a bit longer but was finally put into place. Next came the covering for the boy's scrotal sac. Jamal only yelped once as I pushed his marble sized orbs through the small openings and secured the bottom ring tightly about the base of his scrotum. But this cage was a bit different from Jeff's. The central portion was quite flattened separating his orbs, and three pins helped to secure the cage to his scrotum down the center of his sac. I could see Jamal intently follow everything I was doing to him.

Next came the boy's rectal invader. This time there was no need for sedation; his hole was quite well opened. Of course the body of the elongated plug was slightly wider than Jeff's, but I readied it to force it into Jamal's rectum, pushing the rounded end through the radiating folds of his cute butt hole. It was interesting to see the six radiating bars still adorning the boy's flesh surrounding his rear boy hole, flex along with the boy's anus. Jamal screamed as I pushed the cylinder home, and gasped with relief as the narrower portion was seated between the interior of his rectum and the black outer ring. The flange of this intruder was somewhat different from Jeff's. This one had six openings into which were fitted the six bar piercing still adorning Jamal's flesh. A twist of the bottom of the flange and all six bars were locked into place. The rectal plug was secured.

The final brace, a bar between butt plug and base of the scrotum cage, was then rigidly snapped into place. But this time there was one additional feature. Near the base of the boy's scrotum had been a piercing through the base shaft of his penis. At that spot the bar widened and curved downward over the base of the boy's penis. A long bar was fitted through the exactly positioned holes in those downward projections thus anchoring the connecting bar in the meat of his penis shaft.

Jamal looked down at his encased penis and scrotum and felt the portion of the plug which exited his rectum. He was in a strange state of mind with measures of fear, wonder, and excitement. The excitement was winning. As he was ordered to step onto a big plank of wood he noted the outline of two feet and positioned himself as indicated. It felt strange maneuvering without his hobble chains. His ankles felt bare without the ubiquitous cuffs. And his excitement soared as he felt the back portion of the 'cage' press against his legs, butt and back. He seemed to automatically lean back into the web work of metal. As the front portion was put into place, Jamal felt he was near another orgasm as his body gradually felt the confinement of his 'cage.' He looked down as his feet and toes were snuggled to their individual confinement, and automatically raised his arms as the 'cage' was pushed against his slim black body. He especially delighted in the fit of the curved bars immediately below his butt. The snapping of the latches on the neck ring, and those down the sides of the framework seemed to send a frisson through his loins. He tried to move, not out of frustration or as an attempt to free himself, but to better take delight in his bondage.

I was surprised to hear Jamal laugh as I snapped into place the last latch joining the two large halves of his imprisoning 'cage.' I could see his black eyes stare with intense concentration watching as his hands, along with all fingers and thumbs, be emplaced into their separate dividing grooves along the sides of the entrapping metal work. As I completed the main portion of Jamal's enclosure by securing Jamal's upper appendages, I saw not a boy who was fearful, but one who wanted this to happen. I almost snickered to myself contemplating his reactions when he discovered his confinement would last days rather than hours.

As with Jeff, the back of the head piece limited almost all movement of Jamal's head. And as he started pushing against various portions of his cage he finally started mouthing sounds of what I thought were distress. But had misinterpreted. It was a boy in heat.

"Ready for the final piece Jamal?" I asked.

Through his now heavy breathing Jamal replied: "Wow master. Just imagining something like this can't even come close."

"I thought there for a minute boy, that you were getting afraid."

"No master, just 3; just 3; I can't think of the right word. The cage almost made me forget my butt and penis for a while."

I was quite pleased. I wondered just how Jamal will feel as he is tormented over the next week or so.

Finally for his face. Jamal readily accepted the mouth piece. He opened wide and almost seemed disappointed as he was able to partially shut his mouth against the invader. But unlike the one I'd fitted into Jeff's mouth, this one had three sets of holes, above and under the slot into which I had him force his tongue. I had a lot of trouble inserting all three pins but the trouble was well worth it as I could see Jamal's expression when he couldn't retract his tongue. The rest of the mouth plug was the same. There was the portion which pushed down the bolt and resided between his teeth and lips. Lining the top and bottom of this small cushioned plate were twenty small pins which I needed to line up with the twenty piercings in both top and lower lip. Jamal made a high pitched moan as I proceeded to line up and push through all twenty pins. This was the first time that the boy seemed to resist what was happening to his totally vulnerable body. His continued shaking of his 'cage' along with his loud noises attested to the struggle he was having accepting the inevitable. I finally breathed a long sigh of relief as I finally completed the difficult task. Jamal also gave out a long sigh, his in near perfect imitation. He tried to say something but couldn't. I found that after some kind of mouth gag was inserted into a boy's mouth it almost seemed that they refused to admit to themselves that they could no longer make themselves understood.

"Stop trying boy. Just accept the fact that for the next period of your life you will not be able to make yourself understood."

I then pushed the confining muzzle onto the bolt again lining up all twenty pegs. As the restricting metal plate was put into place, covering his face from just inside his nose, across his mouth and lower cheeks, and under his chin, I could see that even Jamal found this kind of restriction difficult to accept. He struggled for a short while as I spun the large wing nut onto the exiting bolt. With a final twist I heard a long moan deep within the boy's throat. But there was one additional feature of this muzzle. The small portion of the plate that entered the boy's nose had two small opposing extensions which were to join each other through the grommet in the septum of the boy's nose. I inserted a small tool into a prepared slot and twisted. Jamal I knew disliked intensely that particular piercing and I was rewarded with another loud drawn out moan. I smiled. I imagined a corresponding grimace as he tattled his cage. It was a pure delight to see the boy totally futile struggles. I so enjoyed feeling such domination over my slaves.

Fastening the face portion of the head encasement was almost anticlimactic. This part was much more form fitting, and I could see Jamal's eyes trying to adjust to the severe limitation to his sight as his eyes flicked up and down. A half inch [12 mm] bar crossed his vision no less than a quarter inch [6½ mm] from his eyes. This time there were no nose projections but there were still the soft plastic ones for his ears. Jamal again struggled against his confinement as I pushed the invading spires into his ear canals, I tried similar ones on myself and could barely hear anything below a loud shout.

Bung brought over the cables and motor. And a variable transformer with two sets of wires exiting their posts. I was caught up in my own excitement as I hastily attached the both cables and wires to butt plug and penis tube. Not only will my slave be subjected to the movement of rings against his rectal wall, and along the meat of his penis, but a small trickle of current will also invade these tender regions. The current would be quite small. I tested the thing myself and I didn't want the snapping bite of any current above the absolute minimum. I merely wanted to excite, not give pain.

I decided to start with the current. As I turned the switch almost nothing happened. The boy's eyes seemed to open wide but there was no significant response. I then gradually turned the rheostat increasing the current. Now that had a definite effect as I thought the boy would shake loose from his 'cage,' as he emitted a deep keening from deep in his throat. His eyes seemed to flicker all over the place. I lowered the current and was finally satisfied I was not hurting my slave as his merely seemed to try to rock back and forth in his 'cage' and sounds of high pitched moaning escaped his muzzled mouth. I only had to wait several more minutes as a seriously intense orgasm gripped the boy' s body. I quickly cut off the current and started the pistoning rings. The one in his butt was much slower than the one on his penis. I had discovered that pattern gave the most salacious results.

I was now quite satisfied that I had absolute control over my slave and his sex. This time it took about twenty more minutes for Jamal to achieve orgasm. I then ran the sets of controls through a sort of mother board which was connected to a computer. The timing of both current and cables were now controlled by a computer program and would give the boy a continuous series of orgasm by mechanical stimulation, a short rest period, orgasm by current stimulation, another short rest, and then orgasm by a combination of both. I would later set up a continuous feeding and bowel elimination procedures by way of tubes entering mouth and butt hole. The bowel elimination I had experimented with and had finally perfected it. It forced a series of buffered solutions into the boy's rectum on a daily basis. The valve in the end of his urethral tube was allowed to continuously drain as a tube connected it to a plastic container. Feeding likewise was accomplished by putting a tube into the boy's mouth via his mouth plug. The boy himself could decide when he would suck in nourishment.

*13*

That last day he was back to unlimited orgasms. But with a small twist. I experimented for nine hours seeing just how many orgasms I could induce. Jamal averaged one every 21 minutes! I stopped it at nine hours when the period between orgasms started to significantly lengthen and his heart rate – I had him totally monitored – started to fluctuate.

Jamal was on constant monitor and it was Jeff's duty to bathe him twice a day. Jamal seemed to really like being washed down. I always made sure that Jeff was with him at all times. I even allowed the large HD screen out into the main dungeon area on the second day to be turned on, although for the most part Jamal did not watch.

When I finally released the boy from all bondage and controls he totally collapsed into my arms. I was frightened for a moment until I saw that his breathing showed a deep sleep and his heart rate was nominal.

Jamal took ten hours to awaken and another three to finally be able to communicate. He started a series of crying and shivering for a couple hours as he tried to speak. He was barely understandable. Eventually I could decipher his words.

"Please, no more. No more 3;"

Then several moments later: "Thirsty. Very thirsty."

By the next day Jamal was walking about but would at times just pause and stare at nothing. His communication was still minimal although he did respond adequately to commands. It was on the third day when he and Jeff were finally having near normal communication.

I was finally able to get his side of what seemed to be happening.

"Master, the first several hours were totally mind-blowing. Good mind blowing. But then it seemed to overload. I mean I had to try to stop it. But I couldn't. Even the pleasure parts were getting too much. I wish I could have much longer rest periods between 'gasms. By the third day it almost felt like I was dreaming most the time. Almost like I was not me anymore, but still could feel the good parts. Then the next several days were terrible. That was horrible what you did to me. I sooo wanted to get to 'gasm. And again I started to dream all the time the last few days. Even the last day was almost too much. I kept zoning out."

What I finally discovered was two main things. To really make it enjoyable for the boy, small doses were best. No longer than half a day. But even scarier was the ever lengthening periods where Jamal was in what he called 'dreamland.'

"So Jamal, now that you have recovered, when do you want to do it again?"

Jamal's eyes got wide and he started shaking.

I quickly added: "Just say for five hours."

Jamal eyes beamed. "Ah 3; tomorrow?"

Epilogue

And just this past week I visited the metropolitan area of Vancouver, BC, and recruited another twenty boys. About 50% Chinese, 40% Caucasian, and 10% everything else. There was a good demand lately for small, dark complexioned, Orientals. I had also expanded my business to include much younger boys. I was missing out on the demand for 5 to 7 year olds. I filled one shipment of twelve such young boys about four months ago, to another of the seeming explosion of Caribbean resorts utilizing cute boys.

And I still have Bung. Bung has become a very obedient and enthusiastic slave. I still keep him in chains, butt plug, and chastity, when not using him for sex. And I swear that he can now read my mind, seemingly able to anticipate my needs and desires. And in bed – I would not trade him for a harem of boys! He has also proven to be a great asset in handling all the boys I kidnap. (I mean recruit).

But a small snicker of worry has recently reared itself. Just the other day I had a spurious thought cross my mind. I had actually been thinking about keeping Bung past the normal period of a boy's pre-pubescence. I always sell my slaves by the time they started to sexually mature; don't I?

The End