PZA: 10 Shorts: Slave Boy Genesis

Thirteen year old Dave is barely rescued in the nick of time after having been sold as a slave and readied for shipment. But retuning home is not so great either.

16,500 words (33 pages)
Dave (small teen boy) (13yo)
One of Dave's abductors, The guy trying to sell him on the Internet
Mr. Black (30s), boy's eventual master
Dr. Chan
Ahmed (19yo) slave of Dr. Chan

It was my stupid curiosity which got me into so much trouble. OK, since I guess no one will actually read this, I can be a bit more honest – especially with my own self. It was MORE than curiosity; it had also a bad case of the 'stupids' which had definitely played a big part in bringing me to my present predicament. (My new step-Mom actually mentioned once that my name should be changed from David to Stupid). I also suppose that it was due to not just stupid decisions, but being 'too smart' for my own good as my Mom frequently states about me. Or used to state. Right now I was in total restrictive bondage and attached quite securely to a stout framework. There is also a small mechanical 'butt plug' being pushed slowly in and out of my tight boy anal opening, and a very small (and fortunately soft) rubbery 'bead' attached to a thin rod which was being pushed in and out of my (and fortunately lubed) urethral opening. And yes, all this had me totally 'sexed up' and begging for some kind of sexual release.

Just several months ago I had started my journey through puberty and even though I could only have essentially 'dry orgasms' by then, I certainly have learned very quickly just how 'horny' I could get when stimulated like now. And I was so worried about all kinds of things. Like what did this guy eventually mean to do with me? This had me terrified. I may be stupid at times but I AM informed, and certainly know the odds of a kid like me eventually being 'freed.' The very best I think I can even hope for is merely being sold to someone else when this guy is 'finished' with me. That idea I find I simply had to hold on to. Strangely I have – so far – not been hurt very much. Not really. Not like I can imagine being done to kids like me who have been abducted for sex stuff. This has given me at least a sliver of hope. At least this guy – so far – seems not to have a need to inflict pain. Sure, being trussed up like this is quite uncomfortable and even a few cramps caused quite a problem for a while. And that is another thing which gave me some 'hope.' The guy saw the pain I was in and my gurgled and muffled groans – I had quite a big gag in my mouth – and gave me some muscle relaxant. Wow! I even almost fell asleep in spite of all he was doing to me.

I tried to find out just why he was doing all this stuff to me – he gagged me right from the moment I was abducted saying he simply didn't care to answer any 'stupid' questions I might have. It wasn't until he set up several web cams that I realized that my naked and trussed up body was being sent to people on the Internet. He did mention that I was going to make him some good money. Was he going to prostitute me?

My abductor smiled for the first time when I had my very first orgasm after he had put those things into my butt and piss hole. I couldn't help it. I was totally astounded when I found myself responding sexually to all of this. Especially to the whole bondage gig. My upper torso was held tightly with a series of straps onto a frame and my legs were spread wide apart and secured to two beams which extended below. There were straps around ankles, both above and below my knees, and a last set at the top of my thighs. I was almost totally fixed in place. Though I did have to admit to myself that those pictures of bondage I saw on the Internet did excite me a lot though I didn't at first connect it to an actual sexual response. (OK so I'm naïve. And inexperienced. And I DID finally make the connection. Not only did I realize quite recently that I was 'probably' gay, but also 'probably' a 'sub.' But hell, I WAS so inexperienced).

Another orgasm went through my small body and for a short period of time I could ignore my predicament and just enjoy. I lost count several hours ago just how many orgasms I have had. Apparently I had been brought to multiple orgasms for the cameras. I sure wished I could have had all this great sex stuff and NOT have been worried about what was going to happen to me.

It was about an hour ago when the guy stopped all the machines attached to the things being thrust into my intimate body opening, and took out my mouth plug and gave me something to drink – Gatorade or something. Wow, I didn't realize just how thirsty I had been, and then suddenly I REALLY had to pee. When I started to beg him to let me go (and all kinds of other things) – he simply smiled and finally spoke.

This he said so quietly that I could barely hear him myself, so I guess it wasn't picked up by the mikes. (I had realized early on that all that was happening to me was being sent on the Internet somewhere). I tried then for merely some relief. "Can you loosen the straps binding my arms together? They are starting to really hurt 3; An' I gotta pee."

Mitten things had been tightened around my hands and leather straps around my wrists were secured to other straps around my upper arms just above my elbows behind my back. It really didn't hurt so much as just being so really uncomfortable after all this time. I guessed it to be at least four or five hours already since I woke up and found myself so completely trussed up.

This he said aloud. I got real scared the way he said it and because of the sneer he said it with. I tried to move my legs again as he touched my naked thighs right next to my imprisoned genitals, but I could barely budge them. I couldn't help squealing. It got me so sexy feeling all over again. I found I actually LIKED him touching me like that and seeing my expression – now that my lower face could be seen without the gag and straps holding it in place – he made an obvious comment.

"Kid, keep reacting like that and I will get quite a lot of money when you're sold. There are quite a few people out there just looking for a boy like you."

That word reverberated around in my skull. Sold?! I did not know whether to be relieved or even more frightened. I had been hoping for just that – as the best outcome I could imagine – but now a whole new set of worries plagued my mind. But somehow not my penis. The very idea of being 'sold' get me all sex-excited all over again.

He noted my reaction and smiled again. "Keep it up kid – you'll get me quite a good bundle." And as an almost afterthought he added. "Even if you prove later to be totally non-masochistic, just responding the way you are will be quite enough."

NOW I really DID get scared. I knew what masochistic meant and I could think of only one very obvious way for him (and the viewers) to find out if I responded sexually to pain. I couldn't help myself.

I wailed: "Please mister. I'll be a good boy. I'll do what you want. Just please don't hurt me. You really don't hafta."

"Clients?!" This was an ongoing kind of business? I thought this kind of thing only happened in forth rate sex stories. Of course that could mean that I wasn't going to be killed. Or worse. But then I started thinking about all the things his 'clients' could want with me. I think I would have peed myself if my penis wasn't plugged. That machine which had kept pushing that soft bead all the way into my piss slit – at least five or six inches [13-15 cm], and then pulled it almost all the way out – had been disconnected but that rod thing was still in me. And wow did it do things to make me all sexy feeling even without the machine. I was sure glad that it didn't really hurt. He used some lubricant stuff thankfully and the bead wasn't that big, even if the close up monitor had shown a definite bulge traveling up and down my little boy penis. (About 4 inches [10 cm] hard). I kept feeling that thing in my butt at the same time and couldn't completely NOT think sex thoughts, even as scared as I got from time to time thinking about possibilities.

He didn't really want an answer. He ignored my urgent reply, reached over to a shelf, and brought up to my mouth another kind of mouth gag. It seemed even bigger than the other one and I couldn't help whimpering in anticipation. Before I could yell very much he grabbed the back of my head – which was being held totally immobile as there were several straps around my forehead, and across my eyes – with small holes I could see out of, and even small things fixed right into my ears so I sure didn't move my head side to side. I accepted the inevitable and opened up. The last time he had squeezed my small genitals to make me comply, and I sure didn't want that again. Like the first gag, this one also was fixed by straps going behind my head and two more going up along both sides of my nose to a central strap which was fixed to something at the top of my head. One thing I noticed right away was that I could actually breathe through this one. It had a small hole in it. And it was also soft enough that I could even 'suck' on it a bit to help swallow my saliva.

But I sure didn't like the guy's smile. He went over to a computer console and typed something. I couldn't see what was happening but he smiled again saying something about part two. I shuddered realizing that something new was about to happen. And I was certain that I was what it was going to happen to.

I let out a very muffled sigh as that rod thing was totally taken out of my penis. I only then realized that it was getting a bit sore inside. I looked up – with my eyes only since my head was totally immobile – and saw him rip open what I recognized was a catheter. (Well I didn't remember the name but I knew what it was. My Mom – I mean my real Mom when she had been alive – had been a nurse). He coated it with some stuff and started pushing it into my piss hole. It was quite big and thick and I couldn't help squealing and trembling as I felt it being pushed seemingly impossibly far into me. I was surprised that I could even feel it all the way and even when it was pushed into my bladder. A bulb thing was inflated with a syringe of water and he then pulled on the tube to make sure it was held inside. It certainly was. The tube thing swung about five inches [12½ cm] below my small but still partly rigid penis. He then added an extension and when he brought the other end up to my mouth plug; I was suddenly squirming again. And frightened. I KNEW what he was going to do. I screamed but of course only a muffled sound escaped my mouth. He then took off the band that was around my eyes.

I tried to move my mouth away but of course, even with the small amount of freedom now given my head, it was useless. I could not stop what was about to happen. The tube was pushed into my mouth plug, and some plastic thing was taken away from the tube. Instantly I tasted a terrible and salty liquid enter my mouth. I had to swallow. I was being forced to drink my own pee. The guy smiled and then gripped my now totally rigid penis. I instantly orgasmed again. I realized that the entire idea of being forced into this was sexually a turn on. I stopped trying to resist and just 'enjoyed' the moment. I couldn't help moaning in the grip of sexual pleasure.

"Keep it up kid. Your price keeps going up. Someone is going to get quite a prize."

For a split second – I even surprised myself – I LIKED the very idea of belonging to some guy. And being used for sex stuff. In fact some of my recent fantasies had been about finding someone to 'love' me. OK, so I was too naïve for my own good. Someone using me for sex was definitely not 'love' as I imagined it, but even being 'wanted' seemed close enough right then. I was SO lonely since Mom died and Dad seemed not to care any more. I found myself crying myself to sleep too often wishing for someone special to 'like' me. I was totally inept at making friends it seemed. And I recently seemed to dream a lot about finding some special 'friend.' (Only much later did I ever realize that there was a certain sexual component to this idea).

I suppose I should fill in some things about myself. I am a precocious – yes, I do know what that word means – 13 year old. OK, not quite 14 and also quite small for my age. And just starting into puberty – I assumed. I barely stood 5 feet [1½ m] when in my shoes and was a 'trim' (don't dare call me skinny) 75 pounds [34 kg]. I had a small frame thanks to my Mom's genes – she was from Thailand – and even my Dad was lightly built being part everything but mostly from a heritage which gave me my dark skin, and rounded but 'delicate' features. My hair was straight black and my sex parts were several shades darker than my regular dusky skin. A couple girls have told me I was 'cute,' a thing I secretly liked hearing. But at least recently I realized I would rather have some boy make that observation. And also fortunately, my Dad was pretty 'liberal' and not at all 'religious' – at least not in that insufferable 'I am better than you' religious. So I was not real worried about being gay – at least not with my Dad. (My new Mom didn't count). I was much more concerned about how to get a boyfriend. (And as I said, it took me still some time to realize that my new 'need' for some special friend in my life was in fact a part of this boyfriend needing thing even if I never made the mental connection at that time).

Well, I was a generally smart – even if naïve – boy, nerdy some people would call it, and not especially popular, finding it difficult to make friends. I was very introspective and even if so totally needing a 'friend' could not seem to actually get one. (Girls don't count). I suppose an outsider would note that I was quite a contradiction – smart but really dumb as far as common sense was concerned. Outgoing, but still not able to make friends. Generally a happy person, but sometimes really sad and lonely. Good athletically, but too small to really compete with my peers.

Of course it was my combination of being smart and stupid at the same time which got me into the fix I was in. Because I was smart I was able to find a 'back door' into a 'secret' chat group mostly made up of – supposedly – boy lovers. Or less delicately – pedophiles or pedophile wannabes. To me it was a thrill to pretend to be one of them. Unfortunately, I did not recognize that this group didn't stay 'safe' by being totally unaware of 'unauthorized' computer hacking. I never did find out how I was discovered but that was immaterial. And it was only after I was caught when I discovered it was all indeed an elaborate trap. One which I fell prey to because of my curiosity and horniness. I had allowed my genitals to do my thinking. And I thought I was so smart when I used my dad's credit card when booking the suite next to one where I was made to believe there was going to be several guys being entertained by some 'bought' boys. I was so particular as I drilled the small hole into the intervening wall and set up a couple spy holes. (I wish I had the wherewithal to set up remote cameras but that was merely a fleeting fantasy). But I allowed my excitement and stupidity to rule. And I never actually knew anything was wrong until I felt my body go totally limp soon after feeling a small prick in my neck. I caught a small glimpse of a big white man as he carried me as if I weighed only 75 pounds [34 kg] – which I did. I quickly passed into unconsciousness and next awoke to find my body totally trussed up by a series of mostly leather straps to a large vertical wooden frame. I knew there had been at least two people involved but never did see anyone but the guy doing all that stuff to me. He chuckled when I awoke.

"Damn boy. I thought we were setting up some sting operator. But I see we got quite a bonus. And quite a cute bonus at that."

Damn! That word cute again but still from the wrong person. Unfortunately I was possibly more sex-excited than scared the way they had me totally naked and fixed to that frame. Tight enough to keep me upright with only minimal movement, yet strangely the straps about my limbs and torso seemed not to be causing any real pain. I guess there were so many attachment points that a lot of my 'massive' weight [that was a joke], was evenly distributed. (See how naïve I was? Of course I only learned later that I had been given some kind of drug to help deprive me of most of my inhibitions). I tried to look around as much as my restraints would allow.

So there I was. A slightly stupid 13 year old, 'too smart for his own good.' And in a world of trouble. Absolutely no one knew where I was. I was wondering what my Dad would think when I never came home from my supposed weekend at my 'friend's' house. An imaginary friend at that. I was wondering if somehow the police (or whoever) could use information in my computer soon enough to save me. What I did not know until later – when in fact I WAS rescued – was that my Dad DID in fact try to see how I was doing and had called my imaginary friend. The number I gave him of course did not work and when I still did not show up that first night, he did in fact contact the police. Two hours later the FBI started looking for me. There indeed was enough in both my computer, and in my notebook about what I had planned, coupled with my Dad discovering (actually the FBI discovering) that I used his credit card and for what, that gave them not just the impetus to start a group looking for me, but even know where to start. It also helped that I had hacked into a group they had already been investigating. That's why the FBI to begin with and no two day rule.

But I never did discover all this until two days later when I was rescued, possibly only hours away from being delivered to the person to whom in fact I was sold. (And don't think this story ends with my rescue. That's when it just starts getting interesting. And proves that I had a variable IQ).

But right now I realized that I was in serious trouble. And the next several hours were pretty terrible. I very soon discovered that I did NOT respond very well to pain. In fact I hated any kind of pain. I was so totally unable to even understand just how anyone COULD be sexually 'turned on' by anything even remotely connected to pain – at least while being on the receiving end. (Nor did I get a charge out of inflicting pain on anyone else). But this did not stop the several hours of torture that I had to experience during the final stage leading up to my sale. (I realized only much later that what I considered 'torture' and seemed at the time so painFULL, was indeed only mild compared to what I would willingly accept several years later – but that comes near the end of this story).

It started simply enough. The guy scared me 'shitless' when he brought over to me a short heavy strap. Let me tell you that thing HURTS. I was crying almost uncontrollable after just several swipes. The gag had been removed from my mouth so my screams, and pleas to stop of course, could be heard to best effect. He methodically covered all of my exposed naked skin beginning with my shoulders and that portion of my captured arms that was still exposed. The area around my nipples REALLY smarted. By that time I could not really think at all. Just experience. I couldn't even think about pleading for the pain to stop. My mind was so totally all filled up with the experience of HURT. And damn – pain hurts! All sex thoughts totally evaporated. It was only during the small periods that the guy seemed to rest up when I could finally even think about pleading for him to stop. Of course I soon realized that this only made him more excited himself. I knew there were people out there who got off on causing someone else pain but it was still mostly incomprehensible to me. By the time he got past the main trunk of my body area I was in so much pain that I was totally unaware that the pain could possibly increase. But when that first wack hit my penis I thought I was going to pass out. Only I didn't – I just wished that I had.

I was a bit surprised when my legs were left totally untouched. But not for long. He now picked up a slender cane and proceeded to whip the hell out of my totally unable to move legs. Leather and metal shackles at the ankles and just above my knees kept them quite well anchored and stretched wide apart. Fortunately I was still able to support much of my weight on the floor even if my feet were far apart. But now this thing with the slender and innocent looking cane, if possible, was even worse. And it was only after it was all over when I realized that I was even bleeding where some of the welts crossed each other. Fortunately it was pretty minor but the pain from the cane was so NOT going away. My body felt like it was on fire above my legs, but at least it was bearable and even receding. But the pain in my legs kept me crying for possibly an hour after it was all over. The one thing all this did was for the first time stop me from being so embarrassed and self-conscious about being naked in front of a stranger. But for those moments when he would stop with the torture and start caressing my body, especially near my unmentionables, I just plain could not stop from getting the most rigid hard-on I've ever experienced. There was a couple times that I was certain I was going to cum, especially when he also slid a finger along my butt crack. Wow! I never understood before just how having someone else touch me in some of my sex spots could be so much better than touching myself. And I never understood just why a person's butt hole would be so much a part of making a person so sex excited. (Or whatever it's called). Several times I totally forgot not just about the torture stuff, but even the horrible predicament I was in and just let myself FEEL so good and so aroused. I wanted to cum so bad. But I think the guy knew just when to stop touching me. A single swat with that cane again and damn! All the good feelings evaporated.

It was during one of those latter times when he was caressing my body with both hands, his left hand rubbing all around my chest and belly, with his other hand fondling my genitals and sometimes my butt crack, when a sudden strange thought came to me. I thought to myself I now knew just why people thought being molested was so outlawed – because the person getting molested would never want it to stop! I couldn't help moaning through the gag he had strapped into my mouth, and flailing my body around as I neared an orgasm. MY boner was so inflated I was wondering if the skin might split. I had fantasies about something like this but of course it never would have occurred to me that it could or would ever happen. I remember just last week reading some story on the Internet where a boy was forced to undress in front of a rival gang and then was forced to suck them one after the other. That story alone brought me to orgasm three times before I even got to the end. I imagined myself being forced to get totally, butt-assed, penis-sticking-straight-out naked, suck all those hard cocks, and then even get my butt hole raped. I wasn't quite sure if I really wanted to be actually raped, but I pretended there was no real big pain involved. But I skipped over the butt and ass-hole licking, and torture parts near the end. I didn't know if I could actually want to lick a person's dirty butt hole, and I SURE didn't like feeling pain.

But now here I was almost in a similar circumstance and hot damn! Those stories were all so lame. Nothing could have even come close to feeling so aroused as I was now. And to actually have your genitals exposed in front of a stranger, let alone actually TOUCHED? HOLY SHIT!

CRACK! I screamed! Or tried to. I was suddenly brought out of my little fantasy and sex daze by PAIN. HOLY SHIT for real! I think I just pooped myself! For a short moment the pain was so amazingly insistent that I couldn't even think. Just experience. The guy had suddenly hit my entire back with something which first felt like liquid fire but quickly resolved itself into definite lines of pure pain.

I was suddenly into another bout of uncontrollable tears. All sex thoughts totally vanished. I tried to see what he used on me but all I could see was a short handle with a bunch of thongs about a foot and a half [45 cm] long swinging from the end. I seemed to recall from somewhere it being called a flog, or something like that. The only thing about it that was better than all the other things he did to me was that the pain was sudden and terrible but then faded.

I did not realize just how much my mouth and jaw ached until he undid the straps behind my head holding that big gag in my mouth. First the one which joined the ends of the two other straps going from the corners of the bar in my mouth and alongside my nose. It was that bar I finally saw which was also causing all that pressure on the corners of my mouth. But it was the big ball thing mounted onto the center of the bar and pushed into my mouth which I realized caused me the most discomfort as my jaws were forced really far open. Then the next strap going behind my head was released, the gag – with some difficulty getting it back out from between my teeth – allowed me to finally relax my jaw. Wow, was that a relief. I started pleading with him right away to stop hurting me.

"Please, it really hurts. I promise. I'll do whatever you want. Just please no more pain." And he even removed the strap holding my head.

I did not know just how torturing me would help 'sell' me as he stated he was going to do, but I guess he made a lot of money just letting people view the proceedings.

I was almost more curious than fearful as he then started rearranging parts of my trussed up body. Hands downward and affixed to some kind of strange board. The body harness now took on almost all of my weight except for that bar still running above my shoulders and where my upper arms, wrists, and neck straps were affixed. The wide straps about my upper arms dug in some more and the very thick and wide collar around my neck felt a lot more pressure. But my wrists and hands were totally free hanging downward. I tried to grasp one of the straps but couldn't reach it even with my lower arms free. The guy smiled.

I was now starting to get well more scared than curious. I heard that tone of voice before. This guy LIKED hurting me! But curiosity won out again when I saw him roll in what looked like a very small round table top with four cut-outs in its rim two close together on one side, and two others, maybe a bit larger, on the other side. And of course the inevitable straps and buckles.

The guy snickered. "Those watching really liked this the last time I used it. And of course the more excited my audience gets the more money I will get going in the bidding too. I suspect you will bring me enough to go on a big trip somewhere exotic. 3; Of course you also will go on a trip."

Then he had me look across the room into a dim corner where a very large crate stood. "Of course while I will be going first class, you will be going slave-class."

He then laughed outright. At first I didn't understand but finally it dawned on me. I was to be shipped in that crate! He watched as my expression changed into one of anxious understanding.

"Don't worry kid. Haven't lost a boy yet. Plenty of air in the tanks and you will be well cushioned. But now for the finale, before the bidding. Of course I will first have to get this persuader into place."

With that he picked up the small circular contraption and placed it against my back and butt. The hard wood hurt when it came into contact with my already well 'tortured' back and butt. I felt the extra weight on that part of the harness encircling my slim waist as it was somehow connected. I could feel the upper edge just below my shoulders, and the bottom edge just above my knees. But what happened next I was not expecting. I soon discovered just what those four cut-outs were for. My arms were twisted behind me so that my arms fit into the notches just above the elbows. Then each arm in turn was affixed by straps around each wrist. But not before he forced my hand flat with each finger and thumb being forced into their own set of metal rings, on the back side of the round wooden contraption. When secured, each hand was forced into a downward position and each was forced flat with the palm outwards. I could barely move each finger. Then what happened next got me almost in a panic. My ankles were released and the lower half of each leg was bent back so that the two legs at the back of the knee were positioned through the two bottom cut-outs. As each ankle were fixed into position again on the back side of the contraption, I started to panic realizing what was about to happen. Especially when each foot was affixed to a metal framework into which the toes on each foot were secured into their own miniature set of five connecting rings. Both feet were now held perpendicular to my leg with the soles of each foot facing upwards and outwards just below each of my hands. I started to understand and started whimpering. Four of the most tender areas of my body were now exposed and positioned for punishment behind me.

My position was then moved a bit to make sure my front and back were directly pointing to the different cameras. "Please. Please no. I'll do anything you want." I was so totally frightened. I remembered back quite some time ago to when I was little and I had tried to block the blow of my Dad's strap as he was punishing me for some infraction. Of course the strap only was swung at partial force and against my well clothed bottom. But my hand was much more sensitive and I think I damaged my Dad's hearing when I yelled as the belt slapped against the palm of one hand. Now I could anticipate something almost infinitely worse. Times four.

But the guy was evidently not finished setting the stage. He next brought over a small box which he opened to reveal a simple switch, two dials, and two simple old fashioned meters. From some compartment he took out two slender rods which were attached by wires to the box itself. It partly remained me of a battery charger. Except there were no obvious grippers at the ends of the rods. Instead there were two small rounded bumps near the end of the first slender rod which itself looked to be about 6 inches [15 cm] long. The other rod was much fatter, perhaps a half inch [1½ cm] across and again with two bulbous parts near the wire end. But these were much bigger, both being about an inch and a half [4 cm] across.

He smiled as he showed the rods to me. "I bet a boy as smart as you can tell me just where these two things go."

I did and started crying. And pleading. And begging. And then crying even louder as the first thin rod was lubricated and inserted into the slit of my now still throbbing hard 4 inch [10 cm] penis. And the damn thing was again being a traitor! I was NOT excited about the prospect of this new torture. But damn! Just the guy touching and manipulating my so sensitive penis – something which NO ONE else has touched probably since I was in diapers – had many of my innermost feelings and emotions at total war. I both wanted and didn't want that thing pushed into me. Of course I was totally helpless. And I think at least in some measure it was the utter helplessness of everything that also seemed to have me so excited. And even turned on. I started gasping instead of shouting and crying as I rapidly started toward sexual climax. Quite quickly the rod was inserted. It looked thin but was fat enough to totally fill and even partly bulge out my piss hole; the discomfort was inconsequential next to the erotic feeling of something being forced into such an opening. But here was a bit of pain when the two small beads-like projections at the very end were also forced into me. I could really feel the extra force it took to get them to enter my small piss hole. I couldn't help yelling. But at the same time I was still next to orgasm. The progress of the rod stopped with the two beads actually showing as two distinct bulges just behind the head of my circumcised knob. Then the guy brought out a small metal band about a half inch [1½ cm] wide and which opened on a small hinge. He placed it between the two bulges and I suddenly understood the reason for them. He quickly snapped the ring shut as it secured itself behind the head of my penis and between the two bumps. That rod was not coming out until that metal band was released. I yelled again at the pain of the closure. But I was also so absolutely sexually aroused that I was actually wanting the entire thing to continue. By now I was just whimpering as he proceeded to push the larger rod, which he also fortunately lubricated, into my butt hole. I was startled as the thing was pushed inside a hole which NEVER before had anything enter it from the wrong direction. I had always considered my butt hole a one way tube. The slender plug was not too uncomfortable until the first of the large bumps was being forced into my tight sphincter. And I yelled at the sudden pain of its forced entrance. But quickly the bulb was inside and my butt hole settled closed between the two big bulges. It was then feeling quite strange, and strangely it sort of excited me as the pain quickly abated.

"Listen up boy. These conductive rods and this machine are designed to cause the tissue and muscles in your butt and penis to convulse rather than to cause actual pain. Though at higher intensities there sure can be a lot of pain involved. Now I will start to see if I can get two very different types of sensations to compete for your attention."

The man reached over and picked up a strange leather strap off the low table. It was only about a foot [30 cm] long, maybe two inches [5 cm] wide, and seemed to be split into two separate strips towards one end and the other emerging from a short handle thing to which it was attached. Of course a person didn't need high intelligence to understand just what a strap can do even if it was quite short. I started trembling as the entire idea of what was about to happen filtered through my shocked brain. The guy seemed to take quite a delight in informing me about the setup and explaining things probably more for the attending audience on the Internet than me.

"Boy, this here is called a tawse. It's a favorite of mine. A lot of pain without any chance of permanently damage, particularly one this soft."

I know positively that the short periods of torture to my hands and feet were never more than a couple minutes each, and there were only 5 or 6 such cycles, but subjectively I felt as if I were tortured for several hours. (Of course writing this more than a year later I can attest to the fact that even the pain I experienced back then was minimal compared to what was possible).

After it was all over and I had recovered enough to think again, the uppermost thought prayer I was offering up to any gods I really did not believe in was to PLEASE don't let anyone buy me who was into torture. The sex part I was even sort of thrilled about. Even the bondage stuff turned me on quite a lot. But I was discovering right NOW I was definitely NOT into pain. But something which brought quite a smile from the guy abusing me occurred near the end of the torture. At that time I was just about unable to speak since I was so hoarse from yelling and screaming. I never understood until then just how much pain could be transmitted through skin contact. Sure, not nearly as bad as a trip to the dentist – I thought tooth pain absolutely unbearable – it still HURT!

At occasional intervals, he would stop hitting my feet or hands and instead start the current flowing in my butt and in my well stretched penis. The hands and feet so totally took all my attention that I had actually forgotten about the rods sticking into my two very tender holes. Holes which it never occurred to me until then could even excite a person when they were invaded in such a way. And I was suddenly screaming anew as the stinging jolts hit the interior of my tender boy places. But it was the absolutely impossible to control the convulsions of my muscles which spread a sort of terror through me. My body simple did not seem to know how to react. And in spite of the minimal pain, I was starting to get aroused at the amazingly new feeling in my most intimate parts. The guy smiled as I started getting aroused and then took perverse delight in hitting my feet and hands again. My sex thoughts totally evaporated as the pain seemed to get even more intense. Cycle after cycle of the tawse and then my penis and butt hole had me absolutely out of my mind with such conflicting sensations. But after a while toward the end he didn't stop the current from flowing into my private parts but even increased the intensity. Gradually the sensation in my penis and butt hole even took a measurable portion of my attention away from my hands and feet. Eventually the entire set of sensations became quite confused in my mind and it was almost as if I started only witnessing what was happening to me as if I was residing outside of my own body. And in spite of the excruciating pain, I started feeling a sexual excitement and arousal of a degree I thought not possible. Without the slightest compunction I started trying to thrust my pelvis forward in some totally futile attempt to reach orgasm. I was so totally taken by my inexplicable arousal than I was completely without inhibition. I started whimpering.

The guy smiled and both turned up the current and hit my exposed hands and feet with renewed vigor. I was totally incapable of any kind of rational thought. But my body exploded in what had to be the most intense orgasm of my short life.

The guy finally stopped his assault and yelled himself. "I knew it. I absolutely knew it. A perfect toy for those in the market for a boy slave. You will give some very fortunate buyer hours of enjoyment. And so trainable. So very trainable. You will make the absolutely perfect slave boy."

I had trouble understanding just what the guy was talking about. I sure didn't intend to be trained to do anything. Especially anything having to do what this kind of thing. PAIN HURTS. And in spite of having an almost life changing orgasm, I was now remembering all that horrific pain. And my feet and hands simply hurt so much I was crying all over again.

"PLEASE, whoever buys me please do not like giving me pain," was my mantra. It never occurred to me until later that I had so totally already resigned myself to actually being sold. Peculiarly, a small part of me even LIKED the idea. In fact I started hoping that the guy who bought me would be at least somewhat good looking, especially not fat or too old. I mean that instead of regarding my situation with total dread, I was intrigued at some level by the idea of being used for sex by someone. Just PLEASE no more pain. I would promise to do almost anything to avoid it.

I had finally recovered enough to pay attention to what was now happening. Apparently the bidding had started according to one of the monitors. And I was so totally astounded. Was that thousands of dollars?

The guy finally got my attention by simply pulling on my now sore penis. "As you can see people, this boy will so totally respond to whatever kind of training you have in mind. As you have seen he has reacted so perfectly to our little persuader. Now to hear it from the boy himself."

The guy turned directly towards me and instructed. "Now boy, you will encourage these men to increase the bidding. I want you to beg one of them to buy you. That you will be for one of them the perfect slave boy."

I have no idea why I reacted the way I did, but some perverse part of me complied. I tried to talk but my throat was so parched I could barely make an intelligible sound. He gave me something to drink from a straw and I finally spoke up.

The guy then prompted. "Tell them what a good slave boy you will be. Tell them how you want someone for your master."

"Tell them boy you want someone for your master. That you will make a good slave boy."

This continued for some time, with the guy prompting me. For the life of me I can not understand just why I simply complied. Perhaps a very small part of it was that the very idea of being a man's slave boy was somewhat sexually arousing.

But then there was a new bid by someone not heard from before. The name on the screen was totally new. And the price he offered was absolutely amazing. Even my tormentor was quite surprised. And with this last bid, it was quite obvious that the bidding had come to an abrupt halt. And with a loud whoop of joy the guy exclaimed.

Several hours later, after being taken down from my bondage, having been given some Aleve, and some soothing salves having been put onto my worst hurts especially my hands and feet, and a very, very welcome shower even if the water was barely tepid, I was again revived enough to get so very scared all over again. Especially as he led me over to the large crate. But struggle was useless. In spite of my most determined efforts to resist my final encasement, I soon found my body invaded with several tubes, including by that same kind of catheter in my pee hole all the way to my bladder, a really BIG plug in my butt hole, and a sort of squeezable thing forced into my mouth and held there with some mask thing which was impossible to dislodge. And I was also put into some kind of bag thing which was then inflated and I realized that my 'safe' transport was the point of it all. And DAMN it, in spite of being so totally all fired scared, my boner would simply not quit.

Just before the lid of the crate was secured the guy gave me some parting information. "Just be calm boy. You have plenty of air for the time you will be in that crate. And plenty to drink. It has a muscle relaxant so you won't cramp up. Probably make you drowsy too, so don't be surprised if you doze off from time to time. The guy you have been sold to will have a truck here soon to transport you to the airport."

I wondered all over again just who could possibly have bought me. And an airport? I supposed this guy was rich. But airport? I was also starting to wonder if maybe there was something more than a muscle relaxant in that water I was sipping on through that strange gag in my mouth; I was more intrigued than scared, and more sexually excited than even intrigued.

But as the time seemed to elapse without anything happening I got really worried. Finally I heard some very muted noises. And after what had to be an hour or more – OK so my sense of time was not too accurate – something was definitely happening. Try timing things from being ensconced helpless in a big crate why don't you? Well, I was then surprised when it seemed like my crate was being opened rather than being lifted onto some truck. Several minutes later the mask thing was pulled away from my face and some guy with bad breath smiled and spoke in a voice which scared the bejabers out of me, even if I suspected later he was trying for consoling.

"Don't worry kid. You're OK now. We'll have you out of there and safe in no time. The guy who put you in there is now in custody."

I had trouble focusing on his words and even more on his face. The light was almost blinding. But I finally realized – against all hope – I had indeed been rescued.

But it was not much later, when all the questions started, when I realized that I was still in real trouble even if of a very different kind. Try explaining to not just the cops, but to your Dad and step-Mom, just how you came to be in this predicament. Try explaining just how all this could have happened without making yourself out to be a total idiot. And even worse, try explaining about how all this could have happened WITHOUT explaining WHY you did what you did. Of course that was in last effort totally impossible. Soon it became apparent to my furious Dad and my shocked step-Mom, that I was, according to them, a total pervert.

"You what?" My Dad screamed at me, all too often during my interrogation. It was much more an accusation than a question. I had been trying to explain just why I had been at that motel room at the wrong time and in the wrong circumstances. I had been partly correct concerning my Dad. He was not that disturbed about finally being certain that yes, his son WAS gay. It was all the other circumstances which so angered him.

"Sorry Dad." I was very busy trying to make up a proper lie, not just to assuage my Dad's growing concern, but I also realized that it had to stand up to the perusal of the FBI – not an easy task. I sure wished I knew not just how the group caught me, but how the hell did the FBI even find me.

I tried to explain: "That I happened to hack into this particular group was more accident than anything else. I also tried to hack into other porn sites." So far, totally true. "It's just this one was the first one I had success with." (Well, close to the truth).

I'm sure the details would bore you to death. They were excruciating to me. Between the FBI, my parents, and then even the totally offensive TV people – it was a sensational story – I was questioned to death. I almost wished at times I was back on that wooden frame being tortured. At least then I DID have an occasional good moment when I was brought to orgasm. Strange, but as my memory seemed to 'rewrite' the events, I was almost tempted to wish it could happen all over again. Especially if it would also get me away from all the problems I now had at home. And at school where it was possibly even worse. The worst was when several of the supposedly straight boys automatically assumed I'd want to suck them off. Actually true in a few cases – for some reason I was REALLY turned on by that REALLY black guy on the track team – but I still rather it was MY idea.

Of course there was that one time when I was trapped in an alley by three guys from the football team who eventually did force me to 'do stuff.' I didn't even really understand my own reactions but when my face was being forced into the crotch of that Bo Jiminez, and seeing his beautiful brown 6 inch [15 cm] penis coming toward my mouth, the guy squeezing my own package wasn't even necessary. My mouth actually opened before then and I was so turned on by being 'forced' into this action I almost came as he continued to manipulate my own genitals. Even in spite of the minor pain. I was crying when it was all over, after being forced to suck off all three guys, and continued to silently cry as I made my way into the park – I couldn't seem to face my parents right then – but I was not exactly sure just WHY I was crying. Later, after my mind couldn't stop reviewing what had happened to me, I was starting to realize that the fact that I think I LIKED what had happened to me – the being forced part especially – I started worrying about what my Dad said about me, that I WAS a pervert. And I couldn't stop myself from not just reliving that moment when that brown penis was 'forced' into my mouth, but I seemed to get excited all over again when I conjured back the episode of being 'forced,' and controlled. It so got me amazingly horny. I WANTED that penis forced into my mouth. I WANTED to be controlled. I LIKED the idea of being forced to suck on that big brown penis. Sure I gagged a lot. I even almost puked once. But nonetheless, even through my tears, I was probably as hard as I ever was (with maybe the exception during that horrific torture session and electro-torture episode which also I couldn't stop thinking about).

Well a month later, after all the worst of everything had quieted down, I was still 'in trouble' with my parents. It turned out that it was not just myself who was pretty well convinced that I was a pervert. My Dad simply could not get that idea out of his mind. Of course I had to admit to myself that I LIKED when sex things happened to me. Especially as my fantasies kept getting even more and more centered around being forced into sex stuff by bigger and stronger men. I even fantasized about that guy who supposedly had bought me and was so close to making me his slave. (Of course I pretty well 'edited out' all the pain portions of what could happen).

But it was my step-Mom who finally caused the worst problems for me. Sure I couldn't ever look straight at my Dad any more, but at least he finally stopped looking at me like I was worse than any of the guys who had kidnapped me. It seemed like no one ever stopped to realize that I WAS THE VICTIM. Except the FBI who would not stop questioning me. It seems that although they found where I'd been kept, they missed by probably a few minutes catching the guys who had actually kidnapped me; they had only gotten that one guy who had tortured and sold me on the Internet and he was simple not talking. And I still didn't have much of an idea of how they found me except that it had something to do with my own hack into their system so that they knew the addresses and then somehow they got someone to infiltrate their bidding. I started getting the idea that the guy who had actually bought me was in fact an FBI plant. But it was one small remark by one of the FBI people which had me wondering a bit. He made some remark about the guy who finally led them to me and it wasn't the remark so much – the remark was nearly inconsequential, but it was the expression he had while he said it. Like he had no regard for this guy. In fact he seemed to absolutely despise him. That had me thinking. And was eventually to lead me to my next great blunder.

But that was another month off. Right now I was trying to weather the storm at home. School had finally ended. And I graduated from the 8th grade. I was both at the top and the bottom of my class. This is said tongue in cheek. Or more accurately penis in cheek. I did have the highest average, but I also had been forced into servicing a couple of the bigger boys in the rest room from time to time. They seemed to not care about associating with a faggot when it suited them. But in public I never heard the end of the terrible comments and slurs. The teachers seemed totally unable, and more probably, unconcerned about doing anything about the abuse. My step-Mom had been talking about sending me to some boarding school somewhere next year and right now I would have been all for it. I kept thinking about not just getting away from all the abuse here both at home and in school, but wondered if I could possibly find some special friend. And now I did understand just what KIND of special friend I was hoping for. And during the past month, I also had started having real orgasms – sperm and all. I was wondering if a boy could actually wear out his penis and genitals. (Just kidding).

As I said I started thinking. Just who the heck WAS this guy who had bought me? How did he have anything to do with the FBI? Was he someone they had coerced into 'cooperating'? When my fantasies hit ever more bizarre scenarios I told myself I had watched way too much TV. Bad TV at that. Could he find me? Would he even be looking for me? Was he even still interested in me? But I couldn't shake the possibility that this guy was somehow a someone who had some kind of inside track into the world of men who want boys. Or slaves. Or something in that vein. As I said the minor remark and blistering expression of that one FBI guy had me wondering. Too bad I probably never had any real chance of finding this guy. Of course there was possibly a real long shot. I still had the addresses of those groups which were composed of men who liked boys. I had only invaded one of them. I had a couple more which I also hacked into but never did anything with.

Of course I had to get access to another computer. My Dad had confiscated mine. I finally used the one at the library, easily got by all the so-called 'protections,' and sent a message to all three group's 'chat rooms.' I had gotten so excited and even sex-excited composing it. Although for the life of me I still had not really and truly decided just what I'd do if I actually found this guy. But it was something to do and it DID get me quite aroused.

So I was a bit melodramatic. Just the idea of this guy had me so aroused. I suppose my Dad was totally correct. I was a pervert. Of course to be able to get a reply you had to actually hit the send button. And I suddenly had an attack of the 'fears.' I was about to merely hit the erase tab several times. But the realization that it couldn't 'hurt,' finally allowed some perverse streak in me to send it anyway. It might be interesting if I actually got any replies. That one could be actually from the guy it was addressed to seemed so remote to the point of 3; of well 3;, OK so I can't think of the right word. But I realized that the probability of this guy even really being interested in me, let alone actually reading my message, was a flat zero.

That was why getting that e-mail on my 'secret' Yahoo address, which NOBODY around me knew was mine, was so startling. I wasn't even sure just what had prompted me to even access that 'mail drop' since I hadn't even used it since that catastrophic series of events which led to my abduction. The e-mail was simple and to the point.

I was both excited and terrified. I hated my life and was almost tempted. But how the hell did this guy get my e-mail address? I quickly accessed one of the chat groups and eventually found my message. I was correct – I did NOT include the information of this particular e-mail address.

But as I kept thinking about possibilities and consequences I realized that the idea of actually following these instructions had me so absolutely excited. Of course actually following them would surely be the most stupid thing I'd have ever done. But that I was giving them any serious thought testified not just to how I was so sexually aroused by the entire idea, but also the terrible amount of grief I was still getting at home. I felt so absolutely disconnected and alienated from not just my own Dad (my new step-Mom never was a significant part of my world), but I was starting to feel so bereft of any possible happy future. And the thought of someone 'wanting me' was somehow very poignant even if this 'wanting me' was so terrifyingly unusual.

I waffled back and forth for two days. It was what my step-Mom finally did at just this crucial time which finally propelled me into such desperate action. She had actually enrolled me in one of those absurd and horrific Ex-Gay Ministry things. Talk about abuse and torture. I suddenly decided that if I was going to be tortured, it would be for sex stuff. I was just hoping that the guy who was waiting for me was at least reasonably young and good looking. And not into too much pain stuff. But the very idea of being someone's actual slave was totally capturing my imagination. And besides, I'd convinced myself that if things turned out so bad, I could always 'run-away.' (So I already told you I was not very smart sometimes. Besides, it was my hormones doing most of my thinking at the time).

At exactly 5 pm the next Saturday I reached the counter at gate 10 in the small airport which only handled cargo planes and small privately owned passenger planes. And the guy smiled as he found out just who this mysterious S. B. Black was. I used my real ID to get into this area of the airport and hoped that by the time someone figured out where I had gone it would be too late. I was assuming that this Mr. Black had sufficient plans to make me disappear. I was not too surprised to see that the ticket had me going somewhere out of the US but where I still didn't need a passport.

Seven hours and two plane connections later I made my way into the airport in San Juan, Puerto Rico. There I was not especially surprised to see a guy holding a sign with my name – I mean the name S. B. Black. I was totally disappointed however. This guy looked fat and not very good looking. And way too old – probably even in his 50s. But I was soon relieved to find he was only a driver hired to take me to another part of the island at some small private airport.

I was dropped off seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Just a small building alongside a small paved runway. Soon a small plane landed which I thought for a moment was going to run over me. It came to a halt only several yards away. It was a small plane although big enough to need two engines. The side door opened and I thought I would die of fright. The entire thing was suddenly all too real.

For the past two days I had been fantasizing about all manner of sex scenes. All of which finally allowed me sexual release but only after prolonged restrictions and weird bondage situations. Of course the guy who was doing all these things to me was invariable handsome – OK not handsome exactly, but the type of guy which to me is the ideal sex partner. A trim youthful looking man but one who exudes authority. A person not bulky with muscle, but getting what he wants with the force of his personality. And oh yes, not white. I seem to find non Caucasians much more sexually stimulating than white guys. Someone even darker and more stereotypically non-Caucasian than myself. Sometimes my fantasy involved a guy very obviously Chinese or Oriental but with a darker than average complexion. Sometimes it's a black man. Sometimes it is even a very dark Arab, but always someone who takes total control of me. I soon realized that my fantasies had escalated not to just bondage stuff but all the way to total control of my life. But throughout all of them there never was any real pain. I hated pain. And had no idea how anyone could possibly be a masochist. I knew they existed but I was definitely not one of them. So suddenly when I saw the guy who had emerged from the small plane I got so very frightened. This guy looked like he would have no trouble hurting someone. Very big, very mean looking, and very real. And marching towards me. I suddenly suspected that I had done something incredibly stupid. And as the guy took hold of my arm I was certain of it. I didn't even feel attracted to him in the least. All my fantasies evaporated upon the reality of the situation.

And then he spoke in an incongruously high pitched voice: "My boss sent the plane for you. He's expecting you for luncheon at the Carleton Hotel on Bona Island in exactly 45 minutes. We can be there in time if we hurry. I was told you would have no luggage; that everything is to be provided. An appropriate summer suit is there for you to don."

"Summer suit? To don"? This guy's speech and demeanor so totally contradicted his looks. And I was glad that he was not the guy who had sent for me. But shit! I was realizing just how stupid I was being. And so totally confused. A hotel? Luncheon? (Not lunch but luncheon?) And I wasn't even quite sure what a summer suit was. But I was somewhat reassured that this guy – whoever he was – was someone who DID 'luncheon' at a hotel. And when we arrived, wow, was I surprised at just how elegant and so upper crusty this hotel was. And the guy I was brought to was absolutely stunning! And his skin a very dark chocolate color.

I was tempted to look around but a certain fear stopped me. And something about this guy – not imposing physically but he had that something about him which I responded to. I mean I was not just so physically attracted to him, but there was something in the way he commanded my attention. In spite of being so afraid I answered in a clear voice.

"Good. I also like what I see. But of course I've already seen you on camera. All of you in fact. It is always good for master and slave to be mutually attracted to each other. I see in this respect I have chosen well."

This time I did look around a bit. He was saying this kind of thing and I was so afraid someone would overhear.

And that word 'slave.' I was so completely frightened and thrilled at the same time. And so damn aroused. My hard-on was sudden and unmistakable.

The guy noticed and smiled. "That reaction is also very good. And of course what I expected."

This guy was reading my mind. And I was absolutely thrilled by the way he seemed to be so normal. I mean he made me think that what he was implying was a normal everyday thing. To be someone's slave. I suddenly wondered if he had a slave before. Or another thought quite disturbing and so totally un-thought 'til now. Did he already have a slave? Maybe a few? All kinds of disconcerting thoughts started upsetting me. I was now realizing what a stupid fool I had been. I now did look around and was a bit relieved that I was pretty sure that even now I could still simply walk away. And damn he read my thoughts again.

"Sit down boy before your manhood attracts attention." He put just the right inflection on the word 'attention' to deliver the double entendre. I sat.

Then so did he but not across from me but in the seat adjacent. And I felt his hand touch my upper thigh. I almost came right then and there. The entire thing was so erotic for me. He again smiled as he brought his hand away.

"So boy. You seem to be as advertised. And to relieve your mind, IF I decide to take you back with me as my slave, be assured that I only want one slave. And one totally willing to BE my slave. But do not get the idea that you will ever again have any say in what happens to you. Once you accept me as master, there will definitely be no other choices you may make that I will be interested in, at least in regards to our basic dynamic – that of master and slave. I will expect your continued choice to serve and obey. This is no game. Nor something to merely elicit some occasional sexual thrill. Though that will be definitely be an important part of our relationship. But know right now. From this very moment only I will make decisions concerning your future. Only I will decide whether you will become my slave. And if I do so, it will be a very permanent and all encompassing situation. You WILL be a true slave. I will make sure of it boy."

I was thrilled and even more frightened. Did he mean than I no longer had any options? I mean that somehow I was already trapped even if I suddenly decided to run from this room?

"Yes boy. I can see the fear in your eyes. I own this restaurant. And the hotel. And those guards over there are paid by me. And if I tell them to detain you, they will do exactly that."

I looked at this guy and discovered that in spite of my fear and palpable anxiety, there was some underlying sexual desire in me which LIKED being in this situation. LIKED what this man was doing. And in spite of his seeming being a bit older than my fantasies imagined, his looks and demeanor and very presence was almost too good to be true. And I realized that probably very soon I would be having sex with this man. And I realized right them that I had absolutely no intention of tying to escape.

"No you don't boy. Not really. But you will learn just what it means to be someone's slave. But keep to your fantasies boy. They too are a legitimate part of the equation. In fact very necessary. It is the way you react sexually after all which makes your being my slave something you will eventually totally accept. Even when you finally discover that being a slave is going to be very different in many ways than you can now imagine."

I couldn't believe how he seemed to understand how I was thinking and feeling. But this was somehow reassuring. The guy was not just someone who wanted a boy for sex. To make anyone a slave meant that there was a kind of commitment. Something very much more than a sexual encounter. I was starting to be even more relieved when he now smiled.

"Yes boy. I think I've finally found my perfect slave boy. In fact, I fully expect to take you with me when I leave this room and from that moment on you will BE MY SLAVE. I have had a doctor friend of mine go over the tapes of you that I have and he has also reviewed your profile. And in fact he will be joining us soon to make a final assessment. But just seeing how you are reacting right now has just about convinced me."

I was surprised to see in fact not just a person who so LOOKED the part of a doctor, but he had a companion less then half his age. Who for some reason seemed to totally defer to the doctor. Now I know I'm naïve and sometimes pretty slow on the uptake – in spite of my IQ – but it was not until half way through the meal when I realized that this forth person was indeed the slave of the doctor. And when I realized this I could not help reacting.

I was looking at the older boy who seemed to not just defer to the doctor but who was so attentive to his personal needs. And he looked at me directly for the first time and smiled. He then looked at the doctor and I could see some kind of silent communication. "Yes Ahmed. You may explain."

The name Ahmed totally fit the boy's simmering dark looks. As I looked with new eyes I realized just how stunning he was. Almost as stunning to me in a sexual way as Mr. Black. Who I realized never did introduce himself to me by name. I was wondering if that was indeed his real name.

By the end of the amazing meal – a meal I could probably not describe in any real detail the next day – I heard some very fateful words from Dr. Chan.

"Yes Mr. Black. Yes indeed. You can totally remove any lingering doubts. Dave here will make an excellent slave. And those modifications you want, I can begin them tomorrow if you wish. Ahmed here can assist. There is nothing too invasive after all for the first series of changes. Local anesthetics will certainly be enough."

I was now so totally re-frightened. In fact my level of scardness had been propelled to the sky. Modifications? Invasive? Anesthetic? As he watched my reaction, I could see Mr. Black's personality suddenly change from that of a congenial host to that of a master.

"Boy. As of this moment you are my slave. And a slave has absolutely no say in what happens to him. Or his body which I now totally own and control. But this one time I will pay attention to your perceived fears. No, you will not be castrated. I want a slave fully functional. Sexually I mean. Your genitals will be modified but I assure you they will still be in a very workable condition. And this will be the last time I will make any concession towards your fears or misgivings. From now I expect total obedience and total submission. And total has absolutely no wiggle room."

I was both relieved and so suddenly aroused. And I felt tears running down my cheek. It was a so totally mind blowing situation emotionally as the very idea of BEING a slave was starting to sink in.

'Ok Davie boy. You certainly did it this time.' That was my thought at the time. What I said was barely audible but spoken so absolutely.

"Yes master. I will obey." Maybe. I was now totally confused. Did I really want this? Was it even too late to back out? Damn!

Both the doctor and my new master smiled. The doctor was the one to speak next. "I'm absolutely envious Mr. Black. It took Ahmed here four weeks to be trained to that degree of submission."

Then my master said something which sent waves of fear and excitement down my nervous system.

"I fully expect my slave's training here to take much longer than that. The degree of total submission and obedience I desire will tax both of us. But I am totally committed. And I am a patient if demanding man. But my boy here WILL become the perfect slave. Eventually he will be obeying me without any reflection but that needed to determine just how best to please me."

A chill went down my spine. And my boner got almost painfully hard. I started looking around me in an almost reflex mode of looking for an escape. What the HELL have I done now?

I was really getting worried. OK, so I said that several times. It's just that I think my levels of 'worriedness' kept escalating.

"Ahmed, please inform the new slave here how long you've been your master's slave?"

I looked at Ahmed in complete puzzlement. I was trying to add up two numbers but it didn't make any sense. That would make Ahmed 19. But he was almost as small as me! And he was still a kid!

"But that's impossible." I exclaimed. I looked closer at the boy. At the very most he was no older than 14, maybe 15 if he was a really late bloomer. I was even not too sure if he'd started through puberty. He was soA 3;, it was hard to explain, but he sure LOOKED like a little kid yet. Maybe not that young but definitely NOT mature. Definitely not sexually mature. And he barely had any muscle.

Mr. Black admonished me: "Boy, you will have to be disciplined for not addressing me in the correct manner, and with due difference."

I gulped – literally. "Yes master. But how can this be? Sir? Ahmed can't be more than 14 or 15."

The doctor smiled. "Ahmed will be 20 years old in two months. Of course physiologically he is about 12. Exactly how I like my sex slave."

I looked at everyone back and forth. The doctor, and then my master – I shuddered as the idea was sinking in – were both smiling. I then looked at Ahmed, and damn, he too was smiling.

"Master how can this 3;" and then I gasped and probably when pale if my countenance at that moment reflected my fear. "But you said that I would not be castrated!" That was the only explanation I could come up with.

My master seemed not at all concerned about either my expressed fear or my outburst. In fact my master calmly addressed the issue.

"Boy, you will learn to totally trust your master. This is a very basic framework for our relationship. I said that you will be functional. And you have now implied that your master is lying. For that you will also be disciplined."

But I could see that he was not really angry. In fact he seemed to take delight in this apparent mental torture.

"Please master. Could you please explain? I'm sorry for doubting, but I'm scared."

"Yes sir." He looked at me. "There is nothing to get excited about. My master gives me regular shots. They stop me from maturing physically."

I looked at him not knowing what to believe. I didn't even know that this was medically possible. My master than spoke. "Doctor, do you have the medication with you?"

The doctor picked up a small satchel and opened it to reveal two vials and a syringe. I was almost as intrigued as scared.

There was some more conversation as the doctor filled the syringe from first one and then the other small vial. He then had me take off my shirt.

I looked around wondering about how those near us would react to this. My master spoke seemingly reading my thoughts. "Look boy. All the people in this building at this moment are my employees. Take off your shirt."

I complied even though I was so self-conscious. I did not really understand my hesitation. It wasn't as if I were totally undressing, and we were at a seaside resort after all. Maybe because the place seemed so formal and all the other people were totally clothed.

The doctor immediately took my arm, swabbed it with alcohol, and thrust the needle into my upper arm. Before I knew it, it was all done. It barely even hurt. I shivered with the realization that somehow I had just crossed some kind of no-going-back situation.

The doctor spoke: "This shot is a mixture of several drugs. It contains nafarelin acetate and two other hormone inhibitors. You will be tested on a regular basis to make sure that your system hormone levels are so maintained to keep you at your current physiological age. Even physical growth will be essentially eliminated."

I was dumbstruck. They were absolutely serious. It had never occurred to me that this were even possible let alone happen to me. I didn't know whether to be stricken by this development or merely intrigued. Just a bit of reflection and I realized that it didn't seem too bad. Heck, it might even be nice staying a kid.

My master got my attention. "You don't think I'd go through all this trouble to obtain a slave who would only be sexually attractive to me for a few years, do you? I've been searching far too long, and spending far too much in money and resources for only that. You will be my boy for a long, long time. In fact the good doctor here believes that you can be maintained at your current age – so to speak – indefinitely."

I was still stunned but I was starting to actually be thrilled by the idea. And definitely encouraged. I mean if my master had gone to such lengths – he must want me, well, forever. I sort of liked that idea. Even if it scared me at the same time. I also realized that another part of my anatomy was indeed thrilled. I started squirming as my boner seemed to be totally uncontrollable.

But the very next words had me dumbfounded. And quite fearful. Well not fearful exactly but well, had you ever had a dream about being naked in front of everyone right outside?

My master commended: "Boy, take off the rest of your clothes, and place then in that trash disposal container next to that last table. You will not be needing clothing for quite some time. Certainly not for the next half year or so while you are being trained."

'Trained?' I thought. 'No clothes?' 'An entire half year?; I wanted to say something but my master's look was so suddenly severe. I was both frightened and cowed. I looked around again and cringed. Suddenly I screamed as a searing burning pain crossed my entire naked chest. I was startled to note a short slim leather thing in my master's hand. Where did that come from?

Apparently not even the few people nearby seemed to think anything was amiss or even strange. I started slowly loosening my belt.

"Now, for several misdemeanors you have already earned four swipes with this tawse later tonight. Your evening punishment for the day's failings will be a regular routine. Now for every second over 20 seconds you take to become totally naked will add another swipe."

It was strange. It was fear and the memory of that searing pain which propelled my compliance. But at the same time I seemed to be thrilled at what was happening. But I had no time to really think things through. Everyone around apparently thought that everything that was happening so far was totally normal. I took well less than 20 seconds and stood there covering my privates with my hands. I was both supremely embarrassed but somehow also thrilled as my master made me move my hands to my side.

All eyes seemed to bore down on my naked body. My penis was a raging hard-on, sticking almost straight outward its full 4½ inches [11½ cm]. (It had recently grown a bit). It was several shades darker than my dark tan skin tone, and its head and the small wrinkled sack underneath even darker. My nipple rings, or araeolae were also quite a lot darker. And I once used a couple mirrors being curious about my butt hole. Sure enough, that entire area was also darker and in fact my 'rosebud' was not only more a dark 'brown bud' but not really a 'bud.' It was much larger than I expected after seeing some pictures of guys on the Internet. I didn't know whether to be more embarrassed about being naked in front of everyone, or about my lack of development. I mean I was barely 14 for heaven's sake. (My birthday had not been celebrated this year).

"Mr. Black, you sure know how to pick 'em. He's absolutely stunning. And even perhaps almost as dark as Ahmed. Of course the skin tone of Ahmed is of a slightly different hue. Where Ahmed is more a dusky brown, your boy is more a regular brown, even if a bit darker. But delightful. I can see we have similar taste. Of course Ahmed's penis, though still mostly undeveloped, is very slim and only 3 inches [7½ cm] when hard. Of course I've operated on it to make sure that it would never get larger. Even his testicles will remain quite undeveloped and will never produce sperm. And besides, I do not allow it to get fully erect too often."

I was surprised at this other boy's apparent easy acceptance of his status and his apparent complete submission.

Now I was wondering, and again the images of all that bondage stuff came to mind and had me even more aroused. But I was yet worried. I was really hoping that I would not be forced to wear any chastity thing. I read that it could be REALLY frustrating. But a part of me was insistent on being traitorous. A part of me was wondering – and with a sort of thrill – just what it would feel like. My thought were suddenly interrupted as I felt a hand caressing my leg and butt. And wow, did I like it. And to think just several months ago I seemed to be totally oblivious to sex things.

"Boy, there are several very necessary modifications, which will need to be made. Do not be alarmed. Nothing extreme. I just want my slave to be ever mindful of his station in life. And of his duties and responsibilities. And of his sex parts. Not only had Ahmed's genitals been modified to maintain their seeming prepubescent condition, they are now so enervated that even without his chastity device, their physical existence is forever in the forefront of Ahmed's thoughts. Right now boy you will be taken by the good doctor here to his private clinic, and a similar modification will be performed on you. The good doctor here tells me that even engorged, he will be able to reduce the size of your own penis to a mere 2½ inches [6½ cm] with a commensurate girth. Your testicles will be likewise reduced and made incapable of producing sperm. But in addition to a chastity tube, your penis will be fitted with several rings just to make sure you will never forget who owns your sex parts."

I was barely able to consider what my new master was saying. I would not have thought any of this possible. I started to say something but after the word, "Master," no coherent words were forthcoming.

My master smiled: "I will greatly enjoy not only taking possession of my new slave, but in demonstrating that you no longer have any say over what is done to you. You, and your body, and every portion of it, are mine to do with as I see fit."

I was new getting pretty scared. I was realizing that I had done it again. But this time there might be no escape. Or rescue. My master must have been reading my thoughts. Or at least my body language.

"Too late boy. Running right now will only get you a severe punishment. Everyone you see right now is in my employ."

I was led out onto the veranda, down the steps, and over to an awaiting van. There were four guards (I assumed they were guards) flanking me. I was looking for an avenue of escape but before I understood what was happening I felt a prick on my neck and was fading quickly as they placed my now limp body onto the floor in the back of the van.

When I awoke, I was quite surprised at how well I felt. For one thing I felt not only well rested but even buoyant. I was feeling so well I wondered if I had been drugged. I looked about and noticed that I was in some kind of hospital room with several monitors, a tube sticking in my arm, and several wires stuck to me. I recognized the relatively simple hospital monitoring equipment.

Then my next though was one of dread. I tried to throw off the light cover to look at my genitals, but there were cuffs about each of my wrists connected to straps from behind and my hands had limited movement. I was frightened all over again and desperately grabbed the cover and after several pulls finally uncovered by groin. And then started to panic when I saw a bandage on my small (and now flaccid) penis.

Fortunately that same doctor (along with his slaveboy – now almost entirely naked) came toward my bed. I tried to sit up but was restrained by some webbing about my shoulders and attached to the frame of the bed. I cried out in anguish: "He promised!"

As I tried to again sit up the doctor spoke: "Stop thrashing about or I will have to sedate you."

But it was the slave who actually was able to get me to calm down. He was now at the other side of my bed and, laying his hand on my shoulder, spoke a single word: "Look." He pointed towards his own genitals.

"See? Your's will be similar. And it even makes you feel sexy much of the time."

The boy's penis was poking outward in all its 3 inch [7½ cm] glory. There were three silver rings. One, more a band about ¼ inch [6 mm] wide and not quite as thick, tightly encircled his hairless genitals at its root. A similar one encircled his small scrotal sac immediately below his penis. But it was the third one that had me fascinated. It was fully two inches [5 cm] in diameter, perhaps an eighth inch [3 mm] in diameter and hung from the very end of his penis. What was amazing was that it actually pierced horizontally the entire width of his penis just behind his slightly bulbous glans and seemed to even swing about as he moved.

The doctor then got my attention. "Boy, if you cooperate, I will remove your restrictive bonds. You have been out for two days as you have been healing. But rest assured your boy parts are in perfect working condition. Your master is not a cruel person. And he wants a slave to be trained. Not one cowed or broken into submission."

I looked back and forth and wanted so much to believe him. But I was still frightened. My penis felt dead.

"Just temporary boy, from the medication. A drug is presently doing away with those cells which would produce sperm and I removed most of the erectile tissue. Furthermore, the holes in your penis and testicle sac need to heal. Same with the ones in your nipples."

Only after the doctor finished taking off the restraints on my wrists and upper body was I able to see the two small rings that now adorned my nipples. But I was warned not to touch them. I was also surprised now that I could just allow myself to relax more that my nipples felt so sensitive. I was to eventually learn that this was a good part of the very reason why my master had me sporting these rings. And I even got to enjoy their feeling. I found out quite soon that it was the other things that I had to 'wear' that caused me to understand – I wasn't a normal boy anymore! But it was strange. I was more excited than distraught.

I was brought 'home' by my master the next day. It was when I was forced to craw into that small transport cage – a converted dog transport – and had to endure not only the feeling of being treated as an animal, and furthermore, the method my master immediately implemented to 'instruct' me, that convinced me that before now I never REALLY understood what being a slave actually meant. By the time I had finally been 'led' by collar and leash into my new home – I mean my master's home – I was learning to absolutely dread that diabolical leather strap which my master was want to use at the very slightest infraction.

And my master claimed that it was instructional only. That these were not punishments.

"Boy, you will surely know when you are being punished! But I will give you time to finally understand just what being a slave means."

My master then led me into a small chamber off the bedroom and I shook in horror. There before me were a very similar mounting frame as the one to which I'd been attached a couple months ago.

"Boy, you know fully well how this feels. But it is a teaching device. For mistakes. But remember, any deliberate failure on your part will be punished using this frame you see here before you. And each successive failure will be dealt with more severely. Of course there well become a time, when I might use that frame for my own amusement. But that is in the future when you can freely accept such a thing."

My master was so right. It seemed that I really DID not know what being a slave was really all about. But after the first couple of weeks of training I was eventually made to understand that my master's concerns, my master's will, and my master's desires, held precedence over my own. It was only after the first couple of months before I realized that MY concerns, MY will, and MY desires not only didn't count, but I had to make every effort to ignore them.

But quite strangely, it wasn't until near the end of the first half-year before I recognized that it was the master-slave relationship itself from which I needed to derive my life's sustenance. (And indeed it was my master who would see to it that those things really important to me were fulfilled). This is quite difficult to explain to anyone not a personal slave. But it's like I was finally recognizing three main truths. One, in his own way, my master really cared for me. True I was a slave. But that was the second thing I gradually learned. BEING a slave – at least for me – actually 'felt right.' And that was the third thing I discovered. I discovered that my enjoyment in life derived from my very slavery. No, not quite that. Better said is that my enjoyment in life came from being my master's slave. It was the synergy of our relationship which was important.

But as with all relationships, it was a journey. One in which I eventually found myself thriving. But all journey's start with those first steps. And my true master-slave relationship was soon 'started' with that first moment when I realized I WANTED to please my master. (Of course the sex was also sensational)!

7,500 words (15 pages)
Jim Legitt (30s), police officer
Peter Lasgand (40s) aka 'the bastard,' and human trafficker
Billy Legitt (9yo), Jim's son, kidnapped and sold by 'the bastard'
Lim Chong (50s), billionaire and the one who purchases Billy
Kiambang (9yo), sex slave of Lim's brother

Mb bb – non-cons/cons oral anal – slavery interr

As the woman shrilled through the cell phone, the now anxious cop could almost smell the alcohol fumes coming from his very ex-wife's breath: "How the fuck should I know? And who gives a rat's ass anyhow?"

"Look Miriam," the now near panicking policeman tried his best to remain civil if not calm. "Please just tell me. Have you seen our son recently?"

"OUR son? Since when's its 'our son'? Since the last time you've been 'round to see him, say a year ago? And where's the last support check?"

Jim Legitt tried to stop from hammering back at his son's mother. She did at one time actually care. Though he had a difficult time remembering back that far. They'd been divorced now for five (blessed) years. Since just after Billy's fourth birthday. And how the judge could have awarded her custody could not be imagined. But now he was only concerned about his boy, even if he had to admit he'd not actually seen him in over six months, he thought. (Surely not a year). And that was partly due to his wife suddenly being 'away' on those few days he could be away from his Special Victims Unit workload. Of course he's also been so busy with the job.

Unfortunately, after a long and even more exceptionally aggravating conversation – if it could be called that rather than an accusation match – Jim could only ascertain that his ex-wife hadn't actually seen their son since he'd gone out to play more than six hours ago. And he never returned for lunch. But he rarely did.

"Doesn't that give you a clue?" he thought. Without making further comment, Jim called Jason's number. No answer. Some six very long hours later Jim Legitt, along with the other members of his unit had to conclude that that 'bastard' was true to his word. Two days ago, that 'bastard' – the focus of a recent investigation – had warned that perhaps he'd 'recruit' Jim's own boy, if they didn't stop trying to gather evidence against the 'bastard' – the sobriquet the unit had given the person who had just recently come to their attention as being the leader of the human trafficking ring that operated in their city. (Or one of them).

Jim sank down into the not really soft chair as the full realization had finally sunk in. If everything they knew about this group were true, his own son could very easily be out of the state if not out of the country by then.

Two days later, with no new leads and very little hope, (and still trying to break the security codes on the computer they'd been able to confiscate at a warehouse and where they'd barely missed catching some of the ring), there was a surprising call to his precinct asking for one Detective Legitt. The 'bastard' had the gall to bandy words with his the kidnapped boy's father.

"I have the boy. His boy. If you ever want to see him again, get that fucking Legitt on the phone right this fucking instant."

With a sour lump at the pit of his stomach, Legitt answered. The 'bastard' seemed content to just goad the detective on. Several minutes later Jim Legitt was barely able to contain his temper as the 'bastard' continued to evade the man's questions.

The 'bastard' kept taunting the detective: "Do you know, like a good number of boys his age, Billy loves being molested? Quite a lot in fact. We also find that 9 to 10 years olds are the most easily conditioned to their new lives. Of course we've not yet trained him in any anal sex yet. And fuck it all to hell Detective Legett, he even said he likes it better with us than at home. What kind of 3;"

The caller simply hung up. Jim was totally frustrated. They didn't even have time to get a cell tower location.

Ten minutes later the same caller was back. "Don't make any further recriminations or we'll never speak again. You will never see your Billy again. And I will make it my personal concern to make sure he is sold overseas where he will never be heard from again."

Jim tried his best to stop fuming. A little earlier he'd almost assaulted his supervisor when he was taken off this case. Now he envisioned some possibilities.

"Oh I don't know. Perhaps to bring home to you that you will never be smart enough to catch us. In fact we've already relocated to a different city."

Jim was barely able to contain his frustration, and guilt. "How about Billy? I swear that I will totally stop pursuing you if he is returned."

"Tut, tut detective. Please no lies. I've been very forthcoming. And as for touching any hair on that supremely cute boy of yours, he has no hair where we've been touching."

Suddenly the tone of the voice changed. The 'bastard' now seemed all business. "Here's the deal detective 3;."

Directions were given for Jim to obtain a certain 'throw-away' cell phone whose SIM card had been tampered with so as not to retain any information of the number or location of the caller. The police did this time get a cell tower location from the call but it was 100 miles [150 km] away and soon totally worthless. Jim could only see one way to get Billy back. That was to follow directions.

Three hours later Jim Legitt finally was again talking to the 'bastard.' The 'bastard' was again deliberately verbally tormenting his perceived antagonist.

"Your boy claims that his parents don't care about him any more. Such a shame really. Billy here said 3;"

A small shy voice came over the phone. "Is that you Daddy? How come you never visit any more?" he asked mournfully.

Jim never had the chance to actually reply to his son. The 'bastard' retrieved the phone.

"See, detective?" The tone of voice added extra vitriol to the word 'detective.' "Billy is enjoying himself, aren't you boy?"

A loud shout came through the phone. "STOP. I'm five seconds away from deciding to sell your son anyway. Will you stop with the useless recriminations?"

"Good. Now where was I? Oh yes. His beautiful blond looks and small perfectly shaped body would fetch quite a good sum of money in many countries where blond blue eyed Caucasians are at a premium."

"Did you know that your son is exactly 4 feet 5½ inches [1.36 m] tall and weighs exactly 52 pounds [23½ kg]? That's totally naked of course. Even if the digital recording of his little naked body, with his jutting 3 inch [7½ cm] boy dick, can't possibly do him justice. And such a cheerful boy when he finally gets over his shyness at being naked in front of adults. Of course two of our other boy's currently in advanced sex training helped bring the boy out of his shell – or perhaps more exactly – out of his clothing. And we usually have the boy's learn about sucking dick with each other first. Once they realize the possibilities, they can really get into it."

"Please, just tell me what you want," the detective tried to stop the psychological torture.

"What's the matter mister detective? I'm only describing how well your boy, and the others I train, really adapt so well to their new roles in life. Why one boy we had several months ago could experience more than a half dozen orgasms a night before exhaustion would finally claim him. He's in a very upscale boy brothel in Hong Kong right now. Quite popular."

As if totally ignoring the man's pleas, the 'bastard' seemed to take great delight in his continued antagonistic bantering. "Your cute boy is really starting to respond very positively to having a lubed finger stuck up his small butt hole. And having his 3 inch [7½ cm] stiff pecker engulfed in my mouth. He's had at least a half dozen dry orgasms already today. About ready for his graduation into the next class. This of course involves reciprocal activity."

"What do I want? You know, I'm not exactly sure. Of course part of what I want I already have. Revenge. I want to punish you for coming after me."

Jim Legitt was approaching apoplexy. If anger alone could kill, the 'bastard' would be totally disintegrated. Trying to get control of his rising temper he attempted to be conciliatory.

"Good. Punish me. I'm the one who came after you. Not my son. Whatever you want you can have. Just let my son go." He tried to add the word please but his will failed him.

"You know, I'd let you son go but it turns out he's a natural. He's one of those special boys who can actually thrive being the property of an older man who can give a special boy like him the proper guidance. He obviously responds to his same sex, and 3;"

The 'bastard' decided to get to the point of the call: "OK. Here's the deal. That computer your men took from my former base of operation. Make sure the feds don't get it. Nor any copy of the hard drive. They may just get lucky and break my security. It would compromise many of my good contacts. And quite bothersome. And if we get it back we will know if its been copied. The computer in exchange for your son. I'll give you an address to send it FedEx. If you try to stake out the address, you will never see your boy again."

(The delivery address was bogus. He had a man in place who will actually intercept the computer before delivery).

He continued: "The sooner I have that computer, the sooner you get your son back. And just remember, your son's training will continue."

"Of course. Just in case you do something stupid we'll proceed as if he'll eventually be sold. We'll start him on the smallest of anal plugs tonight. Don't want to injure the merchandise of course. Usually takes a month to open them properly, maybe a bit longer since your boy is a bit small for his age. We find that a boy who enjoys his sex is much more cooperative. And as I said your boy's a natural. Almost certainly he'd have gotten into boys anyway when he matured."

Finally, after an exchange of information, and barely believed assurances, Jim Legitt heard a strange high pitch moaning sound in the background."

Jim was horrified as his imagination went riot. And there seemed to be some strange security measure since attempt to copy the computer's hard drive seemed to fail in copying the entire contents.

The speaker commented with amusement: "Wow. Did you know that your boy sometimes can pass out after a seriously intense orgasm. Like when a practiced finger is also stimulating his butt hole?"

After several desperate attempts by Jim Legitt to gain better treatment of his boy, the caller became seriously annoyed. So he deliberately egged on the boy's dad further.

"You know Jim, the record I believe is over 300 orgasms in a seven day period. Of course much of that was done by putting the boy on a machine. I intend to break that record with your boy if you fail to deliver. By tomorrow, if you fail me, we'll also have your boy sucking for lengths of time on a very realistic imitation penis. Part of the training."

"You have my word. You'll get your fucking computer. Is that really my boy? Can I speak with him?"

Instead of getting a reply, the next thing Jim Legitt heard was the voice of his little boy. "Daddy? That you?"

"'Course Daddy. Uncle Pete's been showin' me special sex stuff. He says if I'm a good boy he'll even show me some more. It's really really great!"

Jim Legit almost went ballistic, barely keeping reign on his anguish and temper.

At this same time, the 'bastard,' aka 'Uncle Pete,' smiled as he continued fondling young Billy's immature genitals. The nine year old's little boy penis was again jutting out stiffly. The man sighed; if only he could recharge that quickly.

A trim and good looking black man was sitting in the large couch opposite 'Uncle Pete' and Billy, with another small naked boy in his own arms. This one was near the end of a month's training period and being readied for sale. They already had several prospective buyers who would soon be bidding on him. This other boy too had been responding quite positively to engaging in all manner of sexual activity with other boys his age and has been for the past week been introduced to all aspects of man-boy sex. His own tight anal orifice was now riding the black man's own (fortunately for the boy) relatively slim 6 inch [15 cm] black penis. The boy seemed to be in his own world as the his own 3½ inch [9 cm] stiff rod was being massaged by the man's right hand while the boy was being bounced up and down on the man's black rod. As much as possible they encouraged the boys to want this manner of physical intimacy.

The 'bastard' watched as his business partner, along with the 10 year old boy, were both soon brought to climax. The black man had timed it perfectly with the boy moaning quite loudly as his tight sphincter clamped down on the man's now erupting member.

Several minutes later, the man pulled the boy off his penis and told him to go clean himself up. The boy, looked up, and then across to the new boy he'd been helping train a little earlier.

Uncle Pete, still holding onto the naked Billy, answered mildly: "How about taking Billy with you too? Jake and I need to do some grownup stuff."

The boy, a cute 10 year old Latino who had been 'rescued' from his group home five weeks earlier, was quite cooperative. He and Billy had made instant friends a couple of days before and they in fact had slept together the previous two nights. (Part of the training).

"Sure Uncle Pete." He grabbed Billy's hand and started pulling. "Come Billy. We can have our own fun in the bathroom."

As soon as the boys were out of sight Jake spoke up: "You really don't intend to give the boy back I assume?"

"Hell no. Especially since the boy's so much a natural. With his looks and age, along with being so cooperative, I believe I may already have a buyer. Remember Lim Chong?"

"Probably closer to billionaire. And he's from Kuala Lumpur. He's been looking for a blond white boy whom he can train in man-boy sex himself. And he want's a willing boy. Could be worth a hundred thou or more."

"Billy's nine, but small for his age. I'm pretty sure when I send the video and explain just how Billy has been already responding, he'll grab him up. And if I also happen to get that computer back, that's just a bonus. Besides, they will no doubt have copied the drive and they just might be able to have figured out how to copy the entire thing. It would be very bad news if they break its security. But we can't take any chances. Have to notify all kinds of people and change much of our regular communication links."

Several hours later a full description of Billy, along with a short CD of him naked in various positions – sporting an 'outstanding' circumcised penis – and with an amazingly happy smile, was sent to a secure server where it would almost immediately find its way to Lim Chong's attention.

Uncle Pete so enjoyed introducing young boys like Billy to the very first portions of their training sessions, especially when they responded so positively as had Billy. In fact, his enterprise had the reputation of finding those few special boys who readily enjoyed their initiation into man-boy sex. It was crucial that the boy enjoy the experience all the way; hence they were very careful to open up the boy's butt holes very slowly. But in Billy's case, further training would be in the hands of his buyer. Thus, in spite of his words to the boy's father about starting Billy on an anal plug that very night, they were in fact allowing all the boy's anal training to be done almost entirely by his new owner.

About noon the next day, a very anxious Jim Legitt finally received the call he'd been waiting for – the one giving him instructions where to pickup his son. He'd been able to switch computers in the property room and it should have already been in the 'bastard's' hands.

"I was quite happy detective Legitt to see that you actually sent the computer. Apparently you're a man of your word 3; But I'm not. I'm afraid that I've already sold your son. In fact at this very moment he's on a transport out of the country. (Not quite true). A boy like yours is a rare find. The buyer had been waiting some time for his perfect boy."

The conversation did not last much longer. A despairing father threw the phone across the room to smash against the opposite wall. The FBI, along with members of the local police, were already following leads which would eventually lead them to the 'bastard' along with other members of his human trafficking ring. What the 'bastard' didn't know was that his computer security had already been breached by the FBI computer forensic experts, and a copy of its entire contents were being reviewed at that very moment.

However, also at that same moment, a very scared little boy was being prepared for overseas delivery. He'd been told that he would be getting a new guardian who would cherish him very much and would take very good care of him. The boy was trying to keep a small measure of hope. So far during his short life he'd been pretty much ignored by his dad, and foisted off on friends for the large part when with his mother. He so much needed to be really wanted, and was quite surprised to learn that his new guardian lived half way around the world in a country called Malaysia. He'd been shown the exact place on a world map and a very strange sounding name of the city – Kuala Lumpur. The boy couldn't understand just why it took someone half way around the world to finally want him. But at the same time he was excited. Life seemed to have become a big adventure. Unfortunately for the boy, he never did enjoy his trip as he had expected. He felt a small prick in his neck just before he fell to sleep. It was probably just as well that he stayed sleeping the entire way. He would have been quite frightened to have learned that during his transport he was secured inside a large specially designed crate that mimicked a coffin.

About ten hours later the crate, along with its precious cargo, was on its final leg of its trip aboard a truck speeding down the coast just south of the capital city of Malaysia. Lim Chong, who had a fondness for blue eyed blond Caucasian boys, was quite thrilled, anticipating having his own boy snuggled up in his awaiting arms. Naked of course. Though he so wanted to take immediate advantage of his new possession, he realized that he'd have to take things slow. He wanted the boy to be a willing participant. He was only hoping that the organization he was dealing with was as good as their reputation – and that the boy he was being sent was indeed predisposed to man-boy sex. The video he'd been sent of course did indeed show the boy thoroughly enjoying being molested by an adult male. And even enjoyed sucking on that older boy's light brown slender 4 inch [10 cm] penis. (Of course his own was so much larger, even if very close to the same shade of light brown).

By mid afternoon, Kuala Lumpur time, a small boy, fully clothed, subsequent to his 'rescue' from a strange looking large crate, was loudly complaining. "I wanted to SEE everything! How come they made me sleep all the way?"

Billy had been quite surprised when almost the very first thing his new 'owner' did – at the time he couldn't REALLY convince himself that he could possibly be OWNED – was to pluck him out of his crate, disconnecting from the tube which he was amazed (and a bit disconcerted) to see coming out of his penis, and carry him into an opulent bathroom where he was washed quite thoroughly. A process at which he was first shocked having his naked body being so handled by a stranger, but which soon sent through him thrilling waves of pleasure as even his most private boy parts found themselves the object of such intimate caress. He was also surprised by the apparent display of special care his new 'owner' gave him. During the entire time he was being washed (and fondled) his new 'owner' kept regaling him of how amazingly cute and wonderful he found his little boy's body. And as a boy who had been so bereft of care and attention during the past number of years, he soaked up all the kudos and almost immediately started feeling a reciprocal liking of this very strange foreigner. Billy was also delighted in the aspect of this man's strong lithe body. For some reason the boy had just recently found himself having some strange visceral attraction to Orientals that he couldn't quite define. Especially those like his new 'owner' with a trim but well defined body with his black hair and dusky dark hued skin. And quite a lot of it he was viewing as the man had shucked himself down to odd looking underclothing.

Lim Chong was positively ecstatic as he noted the quite positive response of his new boy to being undressed and then bathed by his own hands. Though at first the boy seemed quite frightened at his new situation and objected to the idea that he was now the man's property, he soon allowed himself to surrender to the delights of being so intimately handled. Lim suspected that the boy himself didn't even understand exactly why his body was responding in such a manner, but there was even more than his purely physical response. The boy seemed truly excited about his new 'situation.' Of course Lim Chong was being exceedingly careful to be as friendly as possible under the circumstances.

Billy had been quite disoriented when he had been awakened while still in his delivery crate – of course with the lid taken away, along with the air bladder protecting layer, and the mask delivering him oxygen. The boy, however, unusually self-possessed for his young age, quickly assessed his situation. Totally unable to mask his thoughts, the boy's face expressed quite a mixture of conflicting emotions reflecting his perceived situation. Seeing the smile of the total stranger looking down at him, he asked a few obvious questions: "Who're you? Where am I?" As he struggled to sit up and look around.

Lim Chong looked down at his new acquisition with delight. In the flesh the boy surpassed even his own desires for the ultimate in blond, blue eyed delectable boy body.

"I'm the person who just bought you. You now belong to me. But rest assured I will take very good care of you. You are exactly what I've been looking for."

Billy didn't know whether to be thoroughly frightened, or happy to start a new adventure somewhere he'd be wanted. But being "bought"?

Lim smiled at the boy's naïveté. But didn't want to antagonize a boy he intended to make his sex partner. "You will be my very special boy, and I will do everything I can to make your time with me a very happy one."

"At least for a number of years. I hope you will enjoy it enough here with me that you will want to stay for quite some time."

Lim Chong did not want to broach the subject of how much actual 'freedom' his new boy would be allowed. He also wondered just how the boy would react when he met the only other boy – just about the same age – who also lived in the sprawling residence. The other boy, by the name of Kiambang, also an amazingly cute boy, but from this same country, has been the sex partner of Lim's twin brother, and Lim's close business associate. (Though the brothers had similar sexual proclivities, they had slightly different 'tastes.')

As the boy looked about the quite opulent room he couldn't contain his curiosity. The amazing salt water fish tank – at least 15 feet [5 m] long – occupied his time for quite a while, and Lim was quite happy to explain just what the creatures were who inhabited his tank. Soon he got even more excited when he looked out from a large balcony over at the most wonderful beach and ocean views he'd even seen, including pictures. He knew the man must have been wealthy but on learning that he actually owned almost all the property that could be seen from that balcony, and the huge mansion which was attached to that balcony, he started wondering why one man needed such a huge house.

"Besides four servants whom you will meet tomorrow, there are my brother and another boy just about your age. They are away for today, but you will meet them as soon as they return."

Billy was quite excited about actually living with another boy his own age. He hoped they could become very close friends. And then a thought came to him. "Do they also speak English?"

The man smiled. "You can help Kiambang, that's the boy's name, with his English. I expect you two will get along quite well. And hopefully, he can teach you his own native language."

The more Billy learned about his new life, the more he got 'happy excited.' After a remarkably normal conversation considering the situation, Lim explained to his boy that he most definitely needed a bath after his long 'trip,' to which the boy exclaimed that he had no other clothes.

"Not to worry boy; I've already got some here for you and your closets will be full soon enough after we get time to get your measurements and go shopping."

Everything the boy saw and all he heard went a great way to ameliorate any of his vaguely formed misgivings. He felt a small degree of loss about not seeing his friend Markie (for however long) but about his totally uncaring parents (as he conceived it) he had little concern.

As the boy was brought into Lim's bedroom (which was reached by an actual elevator right there in the big house) he was astounded at the size of the room, at the absolutely largest bed he'd ever seen, and at the two huge side rooms containing desks and other furniture along with all manner of electronic equipment including computers.

"That area over there has your own personal desk and computer. And these closets are yours boy." Lim showed him two walk-in closets that Billy thought almost as large as his bedroom at home. (At his old home).

Billy was pointing first to a couple other closets, and then to one of the large side rooms that had a very large desk, and three walls covered with magnificent bookcases with thousands of books.

Billy looked at the strange man beside him, looked at the other closets and desk, and then back at the single oversized bed. Finally his mouth opened its fullest extent as he realized the implication. Of course he remembered what his Uncle Pete had said about man-boy sex and having started his 'training.'

"OH! Oh gees." That was all Billy could put into words as his face grew red at the implications.

Billy was again both excited and frightened at the future prospects. Of course he did so much enjoy the very limited experiences with Uncle Pete and especially with that other boy with whom he 'slept' that last night. But he was still too shy to actually voice the thoughts which were swirling through his mind. He looked up at the stranger whom he realized still never mentioned his name.

"Look boy," Lim Chong tried to explain in a manner which would not totally frighten the young boy, "you do realize that I want a boy to sleep with and with whom we can experience the joys of intimate fun. I've been informed you liked that kind of thing very much."

"Look boy. I want you to be as happy with me as I expect to be with you. We will take things slow. You need not worry."

Billy thought back to several of the DVDs he'd been shown with men actually putting their big penises right into a boy's mouth. And even up their butts. As shocked as he'd been at the idea, he also felt a visceral thrill he could not quite understand. And he sure liked it when Uncle Pete and that other boy took his own small penis into their mouths. The resulting feelings were nothing he'd ever experienced or even realized could exist. He sure wanted more of that to happen. He was wondering just how much of that kind of thing this man wanted to do. Then the image of actually putting this stranger's penis into his own mouth had him wondering. He suddenly wandered just what this man's 'stuff' looked like. He also realized that he was excited at the prospect of seeing this man totally naked. A frisson of excitement went through his entire body as he imagined being 'forced' to take off all his clothes right in front of this stranger. (He supposed that they would not be strangers to each other for very long). He sure hoped the guy would like his slight little body. He was so light and blond, whereas the man was a nice shade of light dusky brown with black hair which Billy thought of as so much better looking that himself.

It was at that very point when the man spoke about a bath. As events transpired, Billy's excitement and embarrassment both rose to great heights as he realized the man intended to actually undress him and 'help' him with his bath.

That very night, after having three amazing orgasms himself, and even getting the nerve, with a lot of 'encouragement,' to bring his man to orgasm first with his own hand, and then with his mouth, even liked best the cuddling afterwards. And wow did the guy shoot out a lot of cum. And the taste wasn't too bad. Of course he was so in thrall to his own stimulated boner and his own climax that swallowing all that stuff from the man's huge penis was definitely secondary to his thoughts at that time.

Lim Chong was determined to make sure his boy would be so taken with his own sexual arousal that experiencing his own substantial pleasure, that he would be upset by what was occurring. He was later quite happy to note that he'd been able to time things pretty well – their climaxes just about overlapped, even if the boy's produced but a few drops of fluid. Lim was quite happy to note that his boy responded quite positively to all the caressing of his lovely slim body and the fondling of his little boy sex parts. The boy's penis was rod stiff for the duration. At the entry of his lubed finger into the boy's butt hole, the boy lay back panting and squirming, seeming to take delight in being so molested. Lim was taken with the boy's pale skin and bright blue eyes. He enjoyed sticking first his finger and then his tongue into the boy's pink hole. The boy went quite passive allowing the entry but then went wild at the sensation. The man was happy that his boy had seemed to have taken such delight in the experience. Lim was determined to eventually get the boy's butt hole opened up enough for anal use as soon as possible. (For once he was quite pleased that his own 6½ inch [16½ cm] penis was a very modest average in size). But he would wait until the next day to start that process along by fitting his boy with an expandable butt plug which would soon take up residence in the boy's rectum soon enough. For now the boy had seemed to respond well enough to his exploring finger.

Billy didn't quite understand all that was happening except that he certainly enjoyed all the amazing feelings he was experiencing. Especially the two climaxes he eventually felt. For some time he could not seem to control himself as he just wanted the feelings to continue. He was a bit frightened when the man maneuvered his body so that his mouth was put in line with the man's monster penis. He liked what he saw. The guy's dusky skin also seemed to enhance his experience. In fact when he first was brought into that huge bed and saw his man totally naked he was quite excited. He sure liked what he saw, and was a bit surprised that the man exclaimed this he also took such delight in seeing and then cuddling his little boy body. Merely the exposure of his naked body brought a strange sort of perverse delight. And that very first full body contact was absolutely thrilling. Even more so that that with that other boy back in his own country – was it only the previous day? Somehow the very fact that the man could move his small body around so easily and so completely dictate what was going to happen seemed to add to his excitement. And he sure liked the fact that the man seemed to take such delight in 'boy handling' him – (pun intended). The boy chuckled at the thought.

And the simple cuddling afterwards with his small body totally intertwined with that of the man was even more satisfying.

Lim could simply not get enough of the boy. The boy seemed to bring him back to his teen years when his libido was at an all time high. And he could not remember that last time he'd had five amazing climaxes in a 20 hour period. During their first sexual congress, Lim spent much of the time merely exploring every square inch of his boy's smooth body. And he was happy to note that the boy spent his own time exploring his own still compact body even if quite a bit larger. Lim was glad that he had kept himself in good shape even if he were not overly muscular. At just 40, he still could pass for ten years younger.

After another shower where both boy and man took delight in washing each other, and especially their most intimate parts – Lim was starting to teach his boy just how important it was to clean thoroughly both the genitals, butt crack, and even into his butt hole. Lim decided that the very next day he would also show his boy how to clean out his insides with buffered enemas. (Buffered to avoid any cramping). He wanted to make this entire sexual experience between man and boy a very pleasant one.

After dinner that night, Lim took satisfaction in feeding his boy a selection of seafood the boy had never seen before. And later that night – the boy was verging on collapse after the physical rigors of his past two days – the boy quickly succumbed to sleep after a short but torrid period of oral sex. The boy later succumbed to the intimate ministrations of his man during subsequent waking periods over the next 12 hours.

After another bath, Billy finally felt awake near noon the second day. He thought about his adventures with the recent events and was so certain that he wanted things to progress between himself and that very strange man who seemed to think that he was something quite special. But he was just a small boy, whereas it was the man who was so special. He wished he could have had someone like that in his life years ago. He quickly dressed – clothes were laying out for him even if they were a bit on the large size – and was surprised when another man – all dressed up in some fancy suit, claiming to be the man's servant, directed him to the kitchen where 'luncheon' had been prepared.

For some reason Billy could not quite fathom, when he saw his 'owner' in the kitchen that second morning he felt emotions he could not remember feeling in a long time.

Billy looked over at the servant wondering if that guy knew what went on between man and boy since he must have known that they had slept in the same bed.

Over the next week, Billy had a difficult time figuring out just how the man, Lim, thought of him as being owned. His life was an amazing repetitions of great body feelings with his 'master' – he giggled at the very thought – going down to their private beach, playing with all sorts of games with his new 'brother,' and being totally spoiled. And wow, Kiambang and he seemed totally made for each other. They even swapped tales about their respective 'sexcapades.'

During one of their recent conversations, Kiam finally asked: "Billy, does your man use you butt hole yet?"

Billy suddenly got a bit pensive. "Well not yet. But he keeps putting that plug thing in me. But it hurts when he makes it get too much bigger."

After explaining all about anal sex with his new blond haired compatriot he tried to explain that eventually he'd be opened enough that it wouldn't hurt any more.

Kiam then asked to see the thing in Billy's butt hole. In actuality he was more interested in seeing what a white boy's penis and butt hole would look like. Eventually both boys took off all their clothes so that they could examine each other's bodies.

Eventually Billy, enchanted with Kiam's dark toned and uncircumcised penis examined it close up and then started reaching out for it.

Billy was startled to see that Kiam took the idea of being a slave so literally.

Billy wondered. His own master never told him anything like that. Maybe he'd ask him later that evening when they were in bed together.

Soon the two boys became almost inseparable, except when their respective 'masters' were enjoying their companionship, (and of course their lithe bodies).

Several months later Billy considered his life almost perfect. Too bad his 'master' made he and Kiam take classes on the Internet. Well even the life of a sex-slave wasn't perfect he thought. Billy giggled at the very idea of being a sex-slave. And wished he could touch his own pee pee. Damn, why did he have to ask? In fact his 'master' put the thing in a cage for quite some time until he promised not to touch himself.

Back in the US, about a year after Billy's abduction, a combination of arrogance and some bad luck brought one Peter Lasgand, aka Uncle Pete, aka 'the bastard,' to justice. In a cooperative effort with the FBI, Jim Legitt's team eventually found Peter Lasgand, and arrested him along with a number of others in his employ. They even were able to rescue a number of the abducted boys. But even after sifting through a mountain of confiscated records, not a single clue was ever turned up about the possible whereabouts of Jim Legitt's own son. The only good thing, if it could be claimed that, was that in all the movies they recovered of boys forced into having sex with older men, none of them showed his son.

During the evening of 'the bastard's' interrogation. Jim Legitt had to be restrained by several of his fellow officers. The yelling could be heard in the Lieutenant's office down a long hallway.

"Look, I honestly can't tell you. Yes, I most certainly remember your boy. Quite cute and responded quite positively to being molested. A natural 3;"

Jim launched himself at 'the bastard' intent on destroying that arrogant sneer. Fortunately, for both men, he never quite made contact.

Jim Legitt never was able to discover the whereabouts of his lost son. He cringed at the very idea of what a torturous life his boy must be enduring – if he was still alive that was. The very idea of 3; Well he refused to entertain such perverse thoughts.

It was not quite six years after 'the bastard's' arrest, when Jim Legitt, now occupying the Lieutenant's corner office, received a strange call from the station's Desk Sergeant downstairs.

Sergeant Kennedy spoke in his usual sober manner, never getting excited about anything: "Hay Lou, there's a coupl'a teenagers down here lookin' for ya."

Jim Legitt had remarried a few years back and later adopted his new wife's teenaged son. The boy and his friend Jamal had been joined at the hip for the past year. But why the hell would the boy not simply call?

"Nah! Both quite well dressed and one's an Oriental. Says he's from Kuala Lumpur, wherever the hell that is 3;"

Eventually the Sergeant spoke again to the Lieutenant. "One of the boy's says you know him from a number of years ago."

"Ah 3; Kiambang and William Chong. But certainly don't look like brothers to me."

After some insistence on the part of the teens finally Legitt acquiesced: "Damn, of all the times 3; Ok, give them IDs and have Kowalski bring them up."

A few minutes later, two boys were admitted to the Lieutenant's office. Jim thought to himself that although so dissimilar in looks, both boys seemed quite self possessed, exceptionally good looking, and apparently dressed in summer suits which would probably have used up much of his last month's paycheck. But Jim was taken aback when the blond boy lost his composure and started quietly crying. The other boy grabbed his shoulder, leaned in close, and spoke in some foreign language.

It was Kiambang who then made a short bow and addressed the Lieutenant. "Encik Legitt, we are very happy to greet you. My name is Kiambang Chong. And this is William Chong."

By this time the other teen and the Lieutenant were both staring intently at each other.

Two officers, longtime friends of Jim Legitt, who were spying through Legitt's open door, watched as Jim tried to stand and then collapsed into his chair.

In a tremulous voice Jim Legitt finally found his voice: "My god! 3; Can that really be you? You're 3; you're alive?"

4,000 words (8 pages)
Ronaldo (13yo), abducted and enslaved
black man (30s) , would be master

Mt – reluc – bond tort chast spank

I could not believe that it had only been just over two months since I'd first laid my eyes onto what I considered the acme of boy sex on legs. And although I first noticed this boy at play on a ball field almost a half mile [800 m] away, I was to soon discover that he lived less than two city blocks from my own sprawling home and grounds in this very upscale neighborhood. (Fortunately, its ethnic makeup was quite diverse so that my black skin did not merit any attention). It just so happened that the run down mansion in which the boy lived had been a seized property by the government and eventually turned into a relatively upscale group home for homeless children in this part of the city. I thought, however, that the chances of this boy actually reacting positively to my advances – these days with Internet and much less naivety – was less than probable. But hormones keep one hoping.

The boy, at least I assumed, had to know what motivated my sudden interest in becoming 'friends.' Though the boy appeared to me to be about 11 or maybe 12 years old, I soon discovered that he was 13, and at the end of the summer, to be enrolled in the local High School. (He would never see the insides of that school). I also soon learned that his positive response to my not very subtle approach, 'accidentally' bumping into him as he was walking through the park area behind his own group home, was motivated by a streak of rebellion, a very real need for some close human attachment, and his own feeling of alienation from his own peers who frequently bullied and teased him because of his late development, and his inability to really mix in with the kids which he could only seem to watch from a distance as they engaged in all manner of fun kid things and only able to dream of not 'being so different.'

But I have to admit that neither of us at that time could possibly have envisioned what would be happening just eight weeks later. At this eight week mark, I was looking with mounting lust and passion at the small very dark skinned Latino boy, presently naked and confined to a wooden cage in the subbasement of my own rambling home. His leg shackles and its 15 foot [5 m] chain, which I could now attach to various stanchions throughout my home, had kept the boy near me for the entirety of his previous six week confinement.

And the local authorities had not the slightest idea that the boy for whom they had searched, having seemingly disappeared without a single clue, was less than ½ mile [400 m] from his previous residence. And on the two occasions I had entertained 'official' visitors, I voiced my own (false) remorse at the boy's possible dire situation, and sat with smug certainty that they would never find the boy who was currently concealed in a subbasement no more than 30 feet [10 m] from where we were seated. (They were searching all nearby residences and I gave them my permission to search my own, so they could check it off their list).

I shivered with a sudden frisson of desire as I looked at the now totally helpless boy. It was still almost impossible to believe that I had a boy in a cage in my own basement. His final abduction took place only after an impetuous desire to possess the boy who had instilled in me such a monumental lust. But even that would not have been enough to have even contemplated such a outrageous undertaking. It was that serendipitous moment when we later met in Clyde's Newspaper and Book Emporium, when I had discovered that he had hunkered down behind the back series of shelves and been leafing through a magazine that he'd pilfered from the back room – an adult's only back room. I was about to remonstrate with him until I noticed it was a magazine of gay porn.

I came up behind the boy and made my presence known. The boy suddenly tried to hide the magazine, but I grabbed it from his hands. He froze, looking about to see if anyone else was nearby.

"Please don't tell no one. I get picked on too much already. And who knows what the proctor would do."

"Tell you what boy. You know where I live. Say I buy this thing and how about early tomorrow morning you can come to my house to pick it up?"

The boy seemed not to be able to believe me. But hormones and desperation won out.

And so it was arranged. I spent most of the night building a cage and locking a set of hand made shackles with some chain salvaged from an old set of tire chains. (I would later upscale my arrangements to keep my boy where I wanted him in more relative comfort).

The actual capture was almost anticlimactic. He was so engrossed in the DVD the next morning that he never suspected anything wrong with his spiked drink. Twenty minutes later he was totally naked, except for leather cuffs about his ankles, and was sleeping soundly in a large cage in my subbasement. A room I'd not even known was there myself until almost a year after I'd moved in.

Hell, I didn't even know his full name. Ronaldo something. He was exactly the kind of boy who drew out my moat lustful obsessions. In spite of having his 13th birthday three months before, his trim but shapely boy body probably hit no more than 100 pounds [45 kg] and barely reached to my own chest. Since I barely reached 6 feet [1.80 m] myself, I guessed his height barely over 5 feet [1½ cm]. And the pleading black eyes of that small dark skinned boy, a stunning mixture of African American and Latino, with its mop of curly black hair, and deep dusky brown skin, looking through the wooden slats of the homemade cage, sent shivers of desire down my spine and lodged themselves in my stiffening member. Its 6½ dark brown inches [16½ cm] strained to escape the confine of the leather chastity codpiece which held it captive. (So I liked the feeling of the thing). At least I could take the thing off whenever I wanted.

Whereas the boy in the cage, whose own metal-ringed chastity cage kept his own penis straining against a much more stringent confinement, kept the boy grimacing as he fought against his own sexual arousal. I could see all this just in his pleading eyes. Of course the wickedly abusive mouth gag, a metal ribbed device which not only filled his widely stretches mouth, but also imprisoned his tongue with a spike impaling a recent hole punched through its end, kept his moaned vocalizations totally muted and impossible to be articulated in actual words. Of course the metal and leather muzzle, fixed to the front of the gag and tightly encasing his lower face, with its own tightened straps, made his attempts to communicate just that much more impossible. I smiled with the memory of his ineffectual struggles as I forced the metal cage into his mouth and used a boot hook to snag the end of his tongue and stretch it so that the prong near the front of the gag was forced through the hole and imprisoned with the locking hub which I snapped into place. The attachment of the muzzle, which conformed tightly to his entire lower face, was almost anticlimactic. I was quite happy with the workmanship of the muzzle which did not interfere with the wide smoothly finished metal collar which had been previously fitted to his slim neck. Later, after I had locked the small boy into his five by five by five foot [1½x1½x1½ m] wooden cage, I laughed at his comical efforts as he first struggled to relieve the confinement of his own small penis forced into a series of four rings with their two connecting bars with his useless hands. His subsequent stare seemed to communicate to me that IF he could ever be freed, my own physical condition would suffer so much worse at his own hands. I laughed as I could so easily read the boy's thoughts.

A short time before, his own circumcised penis, which stretched rod-like to its full 4½ inches [11½ cm], had been forced to wilt when plunged into an alcohol and ice bath. It was then quickly trapped into the four ringed chastity device. The largest ring, more oval in cross-section, fully ½ inch [13 mm] in thickness and about 1½ inches [4 cm] across was locked into place as its two hinged halves were literally locked into place about the root of the boy's wilted penis. The next three rings were quickly pushed down and around his temporarily limp member, and snapped into place. The boy, totally confined by restraining straps to the chair-like contraption I had also built myself, allowed him only a feeble movement as he watched the proceedings with a series if very muffled sounds coming from his encased lower face. A slightly louder moan was elicited as I forced a small two inch [5 cm] rod right into his piss hole. To the top of the rod was soldered a small flattened cup which made the thing resemble a small umbrella. I smiled at the boys reaction as he felt the metal cup cover his very sensitive glans and then snap into place connecting it to the very small 1 inch [2½ cm] diameter ring which was forced into place just behind the hood of his penis. He moaned even louder as his penis now struggled to expand against the confining rings and the connecting bars barely two inches [5 cm] long.

Next I forced his small caramel colored hands into their own specially made mittens. These I was quite proud of. I started with two pieces of PVC pipe an inch and a half [4 cm] in diameter and just long enough to fit the width of his small hands. To each of these pieces of pipe I glued the fingers and the very tip of the thumb of simple leather work gloves to the rounded outside. I then forced his hands into each glove. His position on his confinement chair allowed his hands to be individually released and dipped into a prepared epoxy mixture. I simply told the struggling boy to curl his hand about the pipe and dip it into the bowl of black epoxy. His refusal was soon addressed by the simple expedient of hitting his naked legs with a supple hand made tawse. He lowered his hand until the uppermost portion of the form fitting glove, several inches above his wrist, was mostly immersed into the rapidly hardening mixture. Ten minutes later both hands were immovably encased within hardened glove-like coverings which could be used as attachment points by putting a chain or even smaller pipe through their openings.

I next had the boy squealing even louder as I shoved the end of a butt stretcher into his little boy rectum. I was quite aroused as I pushed the rounded end against the ribbed brown flesh surrounding his cute hole – a hole which before this moment, had been invaded by nothing larger than my own modestly sized black penis. The well lubed invader was no more than an inch [2½ cm] across and six inches [15 cm] long, but not for long. To the end I attached a small air needle and started pumping. As it expanded so did the muted decibel rating of the boy's squeals. I quit when his ineffectual struggles had his entire body straining against his bonds, which at this time totally entrapped his small, slim and quite cute body, head, and limbs, with a series of fourteen tightened straps. (OK, so I exaggerated; he actually could move his toes).

I then led the boy into his cage, a cage with which he was quite familiar. At that time, the boy knew, at least generally, what was about to happen. He had noted the pole which has been set up like a trapeze on a motorized winch and cable. He was also quite familiar with the 3 foot [90 cm] bar which would soon replace the 1½ foot [50 cm] chain which was currently attached to D-rings on his substantial shackles. (I reminded my boy on several occasions that I did not want to unnecessarily injure his legs and hence the shackles were well padded). For the past twenty minutes I had deliberately gathered the other necessary implements with which I would be soon using to abuse his so cute little boy body. He also knew how much pain he would soon be experiencing and also its ultimate aftermath which included me totally molesting his cute boy body and invading his both 'love holes' with my own (fortunately for him) average sized penis. I quite enjoyed the contrast of my slightly darker member as it plowed into his light brown toned skin making up the radiating ribbed flesh which surrounded his rear entrance. This was not the first time I had impaled his butt on my rigid member. I was amused at the very first time I raped his boy hole when he remarked that was where he pooped from. He eventually learned that once accustomed to the feel of his hole being so ravaged, he too could actually enjoy the impalement, and his own subsequent orgasm. (The boy was just starting his own journey through puberty and could orgasm with relative frequency even if he could only produce a small amount of fluid). But this time would be quite different since I would not allow his own penis any freedom. He might very well spill out his own very small amount of boy juices, he would most definitely not experience the full enjoyment of orgasmic climax.

Once I had everything ready, I extracted my boy from his caged confinement. I attached a short leash to a ring on his neck collar and guided his slight frame onto a rubberized mat immediately below the trapeze bar. He knew better than trying to oppose what I wanted to do with him. I then lowered the suspended pole and soon had the boys arms raised over his head with the pole passed through the openings of his hand encasements. His hands were now placed about two feet [60 cm] apart as small pins going through the pole kept his hands from sliding any closer. Next his ankle shackles were placed at two ends of a heavy three foot [90 cm] spreader bar. I relished the sounds coming from him as he felt the strain in his shoulders and legs. I allowed his feet to barely touch the mat; I really did not want to injure his slight body. Only cause it substantial pain. His head swiveled about as he watched my every move. I had deliberately lined up on a small cart where he could see the implements of his future torture.

The first thing I picked up was a small hard rubber paddle. He started shaking his head (to the small measure it was able to move) and started trying to evade the inevitable. I laughed at his useless antics. I started out with small measured swats against his cute butt. His muffled cries were music to my ears. I gradually increased both the force of my swings and tempo. Though the first ten swats were relatively weak, by the end of the first twenty swats had the boy crying uncontrollably. And the next two swings onto the back of his render legs had his swinging. And of course 'shouting' as much as his gag and muzzle would allow.

I then allowed his legs to again take up much of his hanging weight and his tears to stop running down his cheeks. But he again started to struggle as I picked up the very supple leather strap. It was about 15 inches [40 cm] long and four inches [10 cm] wide. It was quite supple and with only measured blows, it would barely even mark the boy's smooth skin. But it would certainly sting. And bring a 'fire' to most of his body as I wielded the thing for the next ten minutes. I was careful to avoid his small genitals, his face, and his kidney area. I certainly did not want any injury. After the first twenty swipes the boy again was crying with abandon, but his energy was running out. By the twenty-fifth blow he was barely even trying to avoid the strap. I decided to give us both a rest. I even squirted a small amount of water through a hole in his muzzle and gag. I was careful to do this slowly since I did not want his gagged mouth cause the liquid done the wrong 'pipe.'

Before the final event I allowed my hands to roam about the entirety of his small hanging body. He was not aware that my left hand was gloved and had been liberally covered with lidocaine which would help sooth his abused body. I was quite happy to see that his reaction to my touch was somewhat positive as he could not dismiss his own sexual reaction. Then he seemed to gasp and tried to move his body away. I looked at his confined penis and quickly realized that his penis was again trying to engorge. Of course this would lead to further torment.

Then I attached another cable to an attachment in the middle of his spreader bar and soon had the boy hanging from his four extremities. He again started vocalizing and moving his head 'no' as I picked up a short and supple cane. By the second swat on the bottoms of his so very tender feet had his crying anew and probably the loudest of the evening coming from his muzzled mouth. I decided to have mercy on my most precious boy and stopped after only ten light force swipes. Just enough to make the boy know that I had full domain over his own body. It belonged to his master.

I let the boy hang for a short while as I divested myself of my own minimal coverings, including sandals and cod piece. My own dark brown penis, which stretched out to its own full measure, seemed to attract my boy's attention. He was quite aware of where it would soon find 'residence.' I could even see the boy starting to clench his boy hole around its invading stretcher and touched a control which brought instant reaction. The rectal invader was fitted with a quite forceful vibrator. I took mercy on the boy. I released the lock on his chastity device and with a small pull, removed the rings from his boy penis. He seemed to voice relief and stopped his wild contortions as his penis immediately inflated to its full measure. I could not help from fondling one of my most precious possessions – my boy's genitals. Small sounds came from his gagged mouth as he was quickly brought to climax.

Ten minutes later I had my boy divested of ankle shackles, butt plug, and even hand encasements. (Several snips with heavy scissors allowed me to open the boy's hands and remove both gloves and plastic pipe). The boy was soon flexing his fingers with obvious relief. His feet also were attended to again with lidocaine. Of course as I literally threw his slight body onto a king sized bed which I had installed in my subbasement, he knew what was going to happen. I was so aroused I could no longer delay. I quickly lubed my boy's rear butt hole and my own penis. My boy knew by now to allow me to position his body exactly where I wanted it. As he lay on his back with his hands lying obediently alongside, I lifted his legs and gradually entered his still very tight butt hole. He seemed to moan but his own stiff member attested to his own arousal. I liked to see my boy's eyes as I gradually picked up the tempo. And I knew how to make sure I kept hitting my boy's 'joy button.' Soon my boy's eyes closed and his breathing matched my own as he was eventually brought again to his own climax. I was again amazed that he could climax without the slightest touch to his own penis. But his clenching sphincter brought me to my own long and intense orgasm.

Eventually I sagged down onto his now totally unresisting body. I allowed us both to rest and enjoy the afterglow of our intense physical enjoyment.

A while later I lifted myself off my boy's barely moving body. He opened his eyes as he felt the release of the weight and looked toward his master. He started touching the muzzle covering his own stretched mouth. I smiled and quickly took off his muzzle, released his tongue, and disengaged the gag.

As my boy moved his jaw trying to reduce the strain which had been pout on by the gag and muzzle, he smiled and lifted his slender light brown arms. I picked up my boy and cuddled him close, again recognizing the contrast of our different skin tones. I then lay down on the bed myself with my boy pulled tightly atop his master. After several attempts to use his strained mouth my boy eventually voiced his reaction to his treatment over the past couple hours.

"Wow. That was the very best yet! And thanks for being very careful especially with those swipes to my poor feet. They were still a bit sore from the last time."

I was quite happy that I did not cause the boy any more pain than he could easily endure. It was still quite sufficient to give rise to my own most amazing arousal.

After a bit of intimate conversation we both cuddled together and eventually fell into a restful and enjoyable sleep.

The next day, as my half naked boy, dressed in only sandals and a shirt not even reaching to his navel, was serving his master breakfast – I still had to help him prepare the meal – I was intent on reading an article in the local newspaper.

"Listen to this boy. They have finally given up looking for you." I started reading the two short paragraphs.

I was currently home schooling my new 'son.' It was the only thing he fought me about, but I was making headway in convincing him that he needed to pursue some kind of education. (Getting a birth certificate was simple enough for someone of my means).

But then my boy gave me 'that look.' And I knew that I would give in to almost anything close to a reasonable request.

"Well, I was looking at those vacation spots in the Caribbean. You know the ones you'd been looking at? And I always wanted to learn how to scuba dive. Can a kid my size be allowed?"

Three weeks later we were on the island of Dominica enjoying what we believed to be a well needed vacation. (Three weeks – so that my 'son's' body no longer had marks of our more 'strenuous' love making).

As my boy and I were cuddling after one of our 'less strenuous' romps my boy asked one of his uncountable questions.

"Master, I was just wondering. How come I'm the slave and you're the master, yet it seems I'm the one always telling you what I want to do?"

Dirt

10 Shorts
Slave Boy Genesis

Contents

#5

Capture, Rescue, & 3; Rescue

#6

Perceptions Can Differ

#7

Master and Slave