Sid G & Erik

Timmy in Chains

Chapter One

The twelve-year-old lay on the bench and breathed the fresh steam deep into his lungs. He stroked his hairless, firm torso. As he warmed and relaxed his left hand took hold of his uncut three inches [7½ cm] and began stroking it. As is normal with most boys his age it didn't take long before he was a hard four and a half inches [11 cm].

Three things happened almost simultaneously.

"Oh shit," Timmy cried.

Timmy shot his load in the air and it fell on his chest.

The door opened and Roger walked in with his two best friends.

"Well, well, it's the little faggot?" Roger said.

"Shut up Roger," Timmy said.

"Which one of your boyfriends you dreaming of?"

"I was thinking I was fucking your pussy," Timmy said and instantly regretted it.

Roger picked him up by the throat and slammed his fist into Timmy's stomach knocking his wind out. The second punch knocked Timmy onto the floor gasping for breath.

"I'm sorry Roger, I didn't mean it," Timmy wheezed.

"You going to take that from the faggot Roger?" Billy said. Billy was Roger's classmate and as tall but broader than Roger.

"It's time to make him put up," Seth said. Seth should have been in Roger's class but had stayed back one year. He was lean and muscular and always bragging about his big cock. Timmy started to stand but Billy kicked him back down and put his foot on Timmy's still heaving chest. The young boy realized Seth was between him and the door.

"Please, don't beat me, don't hurt me. Don't do this Roger. Please I'm your brother."

"You're a fucking faggot, and that means you're no brother of mine. Now suck my cock or suffer."

Roger grabbed Timmy by the hair and brought Timmy's mouth to cock level.

"No, I won't, I can't," Timmy wailed.

"Billy, my father keeps his shaving strop right outside the door, get it."

"The what?" Billy asked.

"It's a thick leather strap about two feet [60 cm] long and an inch [2½ cm] thick."

The door opened and as the steam escaped Timmy looked pleadingly into his brother's eyes. Roger smiled, and then spit in Timmy's face. "I've been looking forward to this for a long time."

"Yo Rog, there's some rope and chain out here. Should I bring them?" Billy called.

"Just the rope, the chains will burn him," Roger called.

The door closed and Timmy heard a swish for a split-second before the strop slammed into his back. He opened his mouth to scream but Roger's cock filled it instead.

Roger held Timmy in place as the belt struck a second time. "You see, I knew you'd do it faggot. Now if you take your mouth off my cock before I tell you then you'll really suffer. Use your teeth and you may never sit again."

Roger started forcing Timmy's head back and forth, his six inches [15 cm] going deeper and deeper as he went along. Roger knew it wasn't going to take long, but he also knew this was just the beginning. Their parents were away for the weekend and he was 'in charge.'

His balls began to retract and with a smile yanked Timmy off of his throbbing cock and shot all over the boy's face.

"Oh what a bad little cocksucker you are," Roger said. "I didn't tell you to stop sucking on my cock. Did I you piece of trash?"

"You," Timmy started but a slap silenced him.

"From now on you only talk when given permission. Do you understand you piece of faggot shit?" Roger shouted, he was really getting into this.

"Yes," Timmy said.

A slap reddened his other cheek.

"Yes sir," Timmy said meekly.

"Billy, you were a Boy Scout. Tie its hands together in front of him and then to those hooks against the wall."

Billy walked in front of Timmy and Timmy just stuck his hands out with wrists crossed without being told. When they were securely bound a slight tug brought him to his feet and he quietly walked over.

"Get his wrists as close to the hook as you can," Roger said.

"But that'll leave its feet off the ground," Billy said.

"I know," Roger said.

Billy hesitated, shrugged. "Seth hold it up by his shoulders so I can do this right."

Seth picked Timmy up till his bound wrists were inches from the hooks. Billy took the rope, wrapped it around the hooks, wrists and under Timmy's pits.

"Any more rope?" Roger asked.

"No, there was some string out there."

"Get it and tie off his balls."

Billy did as instructed and by the time he stepped away Timmy was beyond crying or protesting.

"Seth, ten more on his back, ten on his ass."

"As hard as I want Rog?"

"That's the idea buddy," Roger said and began stroking his cock. "Timmy."

"Yes sir?"

"After each swat you will count. If you don't count then the swat doesn't count."

"Yes sir," Timmy said.

Seth reared back and let the strop fly onto Timmy's back.

"One."

"Two."

Timmy felt the strop hit his back. He screamed in pain as he felt the strop hit. The screams of pain got louder as the heavy strop dug into his back. Timmy thought a sword had cut open his flesh. The thick steam heightened the pain as the strop lifted off of his back, like someone was rubbing liquid fire onto the area that the strop hit.

It took thirteen on his back and seventeen on his ass before Timmy got to ten each time. His backside from his shoulders to the bottom of his rump was a mass of red welts. Blood trickled from some.

"You guys thirsty?" Roger asked.

"Sure, let's go get something to drink, my arms are killing me," Seth said.

"Just hang out here faggot and wonder what's coming next."

Once outside the steam room Roger turned off the steam. He knew what too much heat would do to Timmy and he wanted to do the torturing while the boy was conscious.

Timmy hung there, that's all, just hung there. Didn't try and move his legs up so he could support himself on the bench. Didn't even stretch his toes to the ground and try to support himself a little bit. Didn't cry. Didn't even think.

A half-hour after they'd walked out the three walked in. Roger picked up the shaving strop and did a quick ten against his baby brother's still red ass. "Faggot, it's time to get your ass fucked. Since mom and dad told me to take care of you I'm going to take your cherry. Or has somebody taken it already you faggot whore?"

"No sir," Timmy said, his voice flat.

"You want us to fuck your ass."

"Yes sir. Please fuck my ass and take my cherry sir," Timmy added unbidden.

"You going to loosen him up first?" Billy asked.

"With what? I'm not sticking my fingers up its ass," Roger said.

"One sec," Seth said, scooted out and was right back with a plunger. "Saw this in the john."

"You found it, the honor's yours," Roger said with a smile as he lightly stroked his cock.

Seth tried sticking the end into Timmy's virgin hole but the boy's legs kept getting in the way. "Rog, we keeping the steam off?"

"For now."

Wordlessly Seth left and returned with the chains. "It's cooled down enough where it won't burn." Seth put one length around the left ankle and tied it to a railing on one wall. He tied the second chain first to the right ankle and then to the opposite wall.

He wrapped one end of the third length around his hand and flailed at Timmy's back for a good ten minutes. It took one for Timmy to start screaming.

"Can you make a slip knot and put it around his neck?" Roger asked when Seth stopped.

Billy did and when he got it around the boy's neck he pulled it tight till Timmy started choking. At that moment Seth rammed the plunger handle eight inches [20 cm] up the boy's rectum.

Billy eased up just enough to stop the choking.

"How do you like the feel of the plunger up your ass."

"Feels good sir, but I'd rather have sir's cock up there."

Seth stroked Timmy's insides with the handle, getting another four inches [10 cm] inside the boy before he could go no further.

"Shit you little faggot, you took a foot [30 cm] up your queer ass. You sure you ain't been whoring?"

"Yes sir."

"Five," Roger said.

"Was that yes you've been whoring or yes I haven't been whoring faggot?"

"Yes, I haven't been a whoring faggot sir."

"That's good," Roger stood and walked over and started turning the handle buried in Timmy's ass. "But after this weekend I may make you a whore and I'll be your pimp and you'll give me all your money. Would you like that you piece of shit?"

"Yes sir."

As quickly as Seth had inserted the plunger Roger pulled it out and replaced it with his hard six inches [15 cm]. Not as long as the plunger, but thicker.

Roger started stroking, slowly pulling almost all the way out and then ramming his cock back in. Again and again he fucked the brother who'd finally become his sex slave. As Roger picked up the pace he thought of the six men he knew who would pay to fuck its ass.

As he felt his orgasm approaching he grabbed the choker and pulled tight and when Timmy's oxygen was cut off the boy clenched his ass bring Roger over the top and filling Timmy's ass with huge shot after shot with cum.

Finally spent Roger pulled out and Seth took his place and then Billy. After that each friend fucked Timmy's ass twice more.

While Billy was recovering from his third fuck Seth stuck his head out to check the time. "Shit, got to be home in a half-hour for supper. But I gotta take a piss bad."

"Well climb up and piss down its throat," Roger said.

Seth smiled, "always wanted to do that to someone. Really thought about pissing all over him."

"I'm a generous host, be my guest," Roger said with a wave.

Seth got up on the bench and straddled Timmy's face, rubbing his slimy cock over the boy's face. "Open up slave."

Timmy opened his mouth and Seth put the head just inside and started pissing. His ego said Seth's piss tasted awful and he should spit it out but his id overruled saying no. Spitting it out would only mean more beatings, and he could use the fluids. So Timmy swallowed every drop.

"Look at that whore, he actually likes drinking piss," Billy said in disgust.

Right then Seth pulled out and sprayed the hot liquid all over Timmy's face and hair.

When he was finished he got down. "That was great, I'm going to take a shower before I go home. Don't want its smells all over me.

"Yeah, me too," Billy said, "you want me to untie him Rog?"

"No, just get him onto the floor. I need him to be able to crawl. Can you do that?"

"No problem, just help me move him and I'll show you what to do."

When the three friends were showered and dressed, though all Roger had on was shorts, they dragged Timmy into the shower room and hooked the chain around his neck to the shower rod and turned the hot water on.

"Clean yourself up faggot," Roger said and walked his friends to the door.

When he got back to the shower room Roger found Timmy struggling to stand. A twinge of guilt surfaced and quickly fled. There was still a lot more he wanted to do to the bane of his existence, and he still had almost forty-eight hours to do it in.

"You clean faggot?"

"I can't sir, I tried sir but I couldn't get the soap and clean myself properly as you ordered."

Roger considered walking away. He knew that left alone that eventually Timmy would fall and the chain would choke the life out of him. Too many questions, even if he got rid of the body and made it look like Timmy had runaway.

Shucking his shorts he entered the shower room; turned the water off and unhooked the chain. When he dropped it Timmy fell to the floor and started to cry.

"Why Roger? I know you hate me but why are you doing this to me?"

"Because I want to, because I can and because I hate your little faggot ass. If daddy knew what a queer bugger you were he'd throw you into the street the way you are." Roger gave Timmy two quick kicks in the guts. "Now get on your hands and knees and crawl up to the kitchen, it's time for supper."

"But I'm still tied up," Timmy wailed.

"Your point?"

"I can barely move sir."

"Get used to it. Supper will be ready when you get to the kitchen."

Roger headed up the stairs and as he passed the hall mirror he was startled by his raging hard-on. He couldn't figure out what had caused it, shrugged and headed into the kitchen.

Roger took a small pepperoni pizza and threw it in the oven. He looked in the pantry and found an old can of beef stew, dumped it in a bowl, dusted it with chili powder and put it on the floor.

Timmy hadn't made it all the way up when the pizza was done so Roger grabbed him by the chain and dragged him up and forced his face into the beef stew.

"You've got barf stew for supper faggot. Eat it or not, I don't give a fuck, but if you barf you eat it a second time."

Roger released his hold on Timmy's head and got the pizza. He kept his eye on his younger brother while he ate with one hand and stroked his stiff rod with the other. Not even thinking about why he was so turned on.

After he finished eating he filled a bowl with water and put it on the floor next to the other. "Drink and wash yourself you piece of shit. I want your face and hands clean. You understand?"

"Yes sir," Timmy said reflexively. His brain was on automatic, responding to the stimuli it was supposed to without trying to make sense. Or think of a way to escape.

A couple minutes later Roger appeared with a coarse towel and roughly wiped off Timmy's face and hands. He stuck the towel in his slave's mouth, picked up the chain and led it into the family room and in front of a chair.

Roger sat and shoved Timmy into position and then put his feet on top of the boy. "Ah, nothing better than watching TV with your feet up. Right?"

"Yes Sir," Timmy said through the towel.

A couple of hours later Roger gets one of his father's porno tapes, put it on and started stroking himself as he watched "real sex you fucking faggot." When he felt himself getting close he got behind Timmy and rammed his cock home. Roger paced himself to the hunk on the tape but instead of pulling out shot another load up the tight ass.

He saw how hard Timmy's tied off cock was and started stroking it while he continued to hump the boy's ass. It didn't take long for Timmy to spew the largest load of his life onto the carpet.

"You fucking pig, mom taught you better than that. Now lick that mess up."

Timmy turned his head to show his master the towel and Roger yanked it out. Timmy yelped and started gagging.

"Heave and you'll eat that too," Roger said as he slapped his baby brother's back.

As intended the slap stopped the gagging and Timmy quickly lapped up his cum. What surprised him was that he liked the taste.

"Good boy, bedtime, follow me to my room."

"Roger, sir, please, I can't do the steps like this."

Roger picked up the leash and brought the chain down on Timmy's back and the boy collapsed at the foot of the steps.

"Forgive me sir, I'm sorry," Timmy said and Roger saw the pleading in his eyes and dropped the chain.

"I'm going to loosen your legs. If you try anything stupid you'll pay for it."

"Thank you master, I won't master."

Roger watched as Timmy slowly worked the kinks out of his legs and then dragged himself to his feet. His legs were still chained together but had enough freedom of movement for Timmy to climb up the stairs.

At the top of the stairs Timmy turned toward his room.

"Where you going slave?"

"To my room sir."

"My slave sleeps on the floor at the foot of my bed. Now get in there boy."

Timmy bowed his head and moved into Roger's room. Knowing his master was right.

The need to pee woke Roger up and as he stretched he heard Timmy moaning from the foot of his bed and thought about pissing in his mouth like Seth had but decided he didn't want to risk getting the piss on his carpet.

He got out of bed, walked behind his brother and kicked him in the back. "Time to get up boy."

"Yes sir," Timmy moaned.

When Roger returned he saw how swollen the boy's nuts had become. The cockhead was so full of blood it was purple instead of red. "You want to cum boy?"

"Yes sir, please sir, I need to cum so bad."

"Then lay on your back and jerk off. Remember last night, any cum that lands on the floor will have to be licked up and then you'll be punished for it."

Timmy didn't wait, he shoved himself onto his back and forced his bound hands down to his cock and took hold. He needed to cum fast, maybe that would ease the pain in his balls. The restraints slowed him down though and from somewhere deep in his mind the boy realized that he was gay, that he liked being tied up, abused and used. That whatever his big brother intended he could, would enjoy it.

With that understanding his body released the load of cum and his body started bouncing and twisting. He arched his back as the first blast exited his cock and with that the string tied around his ball sack exploded. Timmy screamed in pain as the cum shot out and the blood rushed back into his body shrinking his balls past normal.

The screams and convulsions had Roger concerned for the first time since he'd started down this path the day their parent's told them they were leaving him in charge for a whole weekend. The smile that gradually crept across Timmy's face relaxed him.

Besides, he had only a couple of hours before the second part of the plan started.

Roger had learned his hatred of homosexuals from his father who railed that those "flaming fucking faggots are the reason the country's become an immoral cesspool." And his scrawny, non-athletic runt of a brother fit everything dad told him.

The one thing he shared with the faggot was his Internet skills. He'd found several men-boy love chat rooms and would sneak in them and insult and spam them to his heart's desire.

But when his father told him about this weekend he'd seen an opportunity to free himself from the runt's presence. He'd found a new chat room and pretending to be curious had met several men. Six lived within an hour of his town. He'd emailed a picture of Timmy taken at the pool wearing his Speedo to one and when the guy responded made a proposal.

For two hundred dollars it was being rented for the afternoon.

Roger got off the bed and pulled Timmy to his feet. Taking hold of the chain leash he led the boy into the bathroom and pushed him down on the toilet.

"Take care of business and take your shower. Your first customer will be here shortly and I want you and your chains clean for him."

Timmy fell off the toilet onto his knees, he bent and kissed his brothers bare feet. "Please Sir, don't do this. I'll be your faggot slave but don't sell me."

"Too late little bro faggot, and don't bother begging for mercy from him either. I would really be upset if you did that." Roger spit and then kicked it in the chest before heaving the panting boy back up on the toilet. "You're running out of time whore. You'd better be done when I come to get you and don't think of leaving this room until I do." Roger spit again, walked out and closed the door.

Timmy stared at the handle as he listened to his brother walk down the steps. He knew he could stand up, walk to his parent's room and call the police or somebody to rescue him. He sighed, leaned back and after taking a dump took a long clean shower. Once he was dry he sat back on the toilet and waited.

His limbs cramped, muscles ached and his empty stomach rumbled. And he waited. When he heard the doorbell he forced himself to stand and go to the mirror. He looked at himself and tried to straighten his still damp hair as best he could. For reasons he couldn't even conceive of he wanted his brother to be proud of him and his first customer to be pleased as well. Several minutes later the door opened and Roger slid in, closing the door behind him. He spent a minute inspecting Timmy before nodding and smiling.

"Very good slave. Now you are to call the gentleman Captain and do everything he says."

"Yes Sir. I will make you proud of me," Timmy said head bowed.

This startled Roger. He knew Timmy was under his control, but that he would want to please his tormentor?

Timmy saw the surprise in Roger's eyes but didn't understand it. Roger recovered and took hold of the chain.

"Look, if he really starts hurting you, like he's going to kill you or break a bone then call me and I'll get you out. You may be my fucking faggot brother but I don't want you dead."

Timmy smiled and nodded. Roger opened the door and led the new whore to his first customer who was waiting in their parent's bedroom.

"Captain Morgan, this is Timmy. I hope you have a pleasant afternoon."

The man was sitting in their father's armchair in front of the 27" [68 cm] TV. He was white, appeared to be over six feet [1.80 m] tall with a slim frame. He held out his hand and Roger gave him the leash.

"You may go boy, stay downstairs and listen in case I need you."

"Yes Captain," Roger bowed, turned and hurried out. Any doubt assuaged by the two hundred dollars in his shorts' pocket. Roger stopped by his room to get his backpack, went to the kitchen and started doing his homework.

Timmy was learning as well. He was kneeling in front of the man as his nipples were played with. But he was so engrossed with the videotape now playing he barely noticed when the nipple clamps were put on.

There were a half dozen boys on the screen. Naked except for metal collars around their necks and various other chains and restraints.

One boy had his hands tied together and was hanging from a beam with his feet off the floor as another whipped his rotating body.

One was in a low stock with his head and hands stuck in the holes while a machine worked a huge dildo in and out of his ass. And a second worked one in and out of his mouth.

Another boy was chained tight to a concrete wall while the youngest boy spanked him with a big paddle. As the camera panned around Timmy was surprised. The little boy seemed younger than he was. From the top of his shaved head to the bottom of his feet there wasn't a hair on him, yet his hard cock was a good seven inches [18 cm].

Timmy's cock was hard as a rock; a fact not lost on the Captain.

The final boy was bound hand and foot, much like Timmy was, and was crawling around the floor sucking on whatever cock he could get at.

With a click the TV went off and the man lifted Timmy by the clamps. Timmy moaned in delight at the new pain.

"You like that boy, don't you?"

"Yes Captain, I do."

"Get the bag from next to the bed. If you can't lift it then drag it over."

"Yes, Captain." Timmy shuffled over and struggled to lift it inches off the ground and carried it back to the chair.

The man opened the bag, removed two small weights and attached one to each of the tit clamps. Timmy staggered but recovered quickly. Next the Captain grabbed Timmy's cock and slipped a chain over it to the boy's groin and tightened it behind the small balls. To that he attached a slightly larger weight.

"Ugh," Timmy whispered as the weight dropped. But he didn't lose his erection as it bobbed up and down.

The man stood and removed his shirt. Timmy quickly realized that the shirt was covering a slim but muscular upper body and when he was lifted off his feet he knew the legs were just as powerful.

As his young mouth was brought to the man's he smiled as he waited for his first real kiss. Their lips met and he returned the heat. When Timmy felt the man's tongue on his lips he let it in and savored the new sensations.

Captain Morgan carried the boy over to the bed and propped him face front against the backboard. Out of the bag he brought out a cat o'nine tails and gently stroked Timmy's back with it.

"See how long you can hold out before screaming boy. Make the Captain proud of you."

"Yes," Timmy's response was cut short by the first lash. He let out a gasp of surprise.

It only took five more lashes on the inexperienced back for the first scream to pierce the air. By the tenth they had stopped and been replaced by tears.

Captain Morgan sat on the bed and gently pulled Timmy onto his lap, brushing the tears away.

"Don't cry little one, you did very well today. Though our time together is not yet over."

Timmy sniffled and forced a smile. "Thank you sir, I'll try and do even better."

The Captain got a ten-inch [25 cm] dildo from his bag and put it at Timmy's lips. "Open up and swallow us much as you can so it's nice and moist for when I stick it up your ass."

Timmy opened his mouth and let the man guide it in. He grimaced at the rubbery taste and the scent of shit but quickly found five inches [12½ cm] of the fake cock working in and out of his mouth. The Captain left the dildo in Timmy's mouth as he placed the boy face down on his lap. He was amazed at how hard the twelve-year-old's cock was. How naturally he breathed with the toy up his mouth.

As he took the toy from Timmy's mouth he started to think of the possibilities the situation offered. When he saw how readily the boy let the dildo past his sphincter and inhaled the full length of the rubber cock the Captain knew he had to do something.

When he felt Timmy begin to hump his leg and the boy cock begin to twitch Captain Morgan knew it had to be sooner rather than later.

"Oh shit, I'm cumming," Timmy shouted and poured a large load of boy juice on the Captain's pants leg and the floor.

Leaving the dildo fully inserted the Captain pushed the still panting boy onto the floor.

"Look what you did whore, now lick my pants and your parents' floor clean immediately."

Timmy started at the tone. The man must have known what such a large object up his tiny ass would do, was still doing. Despite just dumping one of the biggest loads of his young sex life Timmy's cock was still rock hard. A fact the Captain noticed as Timmy bent to clean the floor and pants. As Timmy worked on the floor the Captain finally removed his pants, revealing his thick, uncut twelve-inches [30 cm]. He lay on the bed and slowly stroked his cock.

"Boy, it's time for your ass to get fucked by a man."

"Yes sir, thank you sir," Timmy said eagerly, then stopped.

"Surprised yourself?"

"Yes sir," Timmy said.

"Then get that hot sexy ass up here and straddle me. After I remove the dildo I want you to kneel and I'll aim my man cock up your boy hole."

Timmy was used to moving around in the restraints and soon had the full cock deep inside his ass. Without being told he started the knee bends and found the pleasure building up inside him.

Captain Morgan played with the nipple clamps and the weight hanging from Timmy's crotch as the young slut kept working on his cock. If what the boy's big brother had said was true Timmy was a natural slave. A rare find for a man like him.

"Faster boy, work your master's cock."

Timmy picked up the pace as he felt the huge tool inside him grow even bigger and begin to throb. He'd never imagined anything that big could fit up his butt. Timmy looked down at the man and saw the smile on his face and felt good about himself. He'd tell Roger that he could keep selling him.

A soft tone emanated from the Captain's pants and the man sighed. It was time to finish up and leave for the sex clubs he owned in Manhattan.

He held the boy in his powerful hands and pushed Timmy onto his back without pulling out. Captain Morgan started to pound the boy's ass with all his might and reveled at the ecstasy on the bound boy's face and the precum leaking from the pricklet.

"Oh shit slut, I'm close, I'm going to fill your worthless ass with my seed."

"Please master, please," Timmy moaned in response. He couldn't believe how good he felt being fucked hard by the massive cock.

"Now boy, now," the Captain yelled as he shot volley after volley into the upturned chute. Timmy came as he felt the first shot hit his insides.

It took both of them a couple of minutes to catch their breath. At which point the Captain pulled out of Timmy with a loud pop.

"Good work boy, you did good. As a reward you can keep the tit clamps and the weight around your balls."

"Thank you master. I hope to please you again," Timmy said and the man saw he meant it.

"Now your pimp wants you to go back into the bathroom, close the door and wait there."

"Yes sir," Timmy said and did as he was told.

When Captain Morgan reached the bottom of the stairs Roger was waiting.

"Was everything to your satisfaction sir?"

"Yes, he was better than I expected. I will use him again."

"That can be arranged sir," Roger said smiling.

"Now if you can get him thrown out of the house, or entice him to leave on his own I would be willing to take him in if notified appropriately. For say two thousand."

Roger was startled this was turning out better than he'd expected. Yes he could probably make more money keeping the faggot around but he'd rather be rid of him.

"If my father finds out it's gay he'll throw him out in a second. I may be able to arrange that on their return tomorrow. Is there a way I can contact you in a hurry."

Captain Morgan and handed Roger a plain card. "That's my pager number. Call it and put in 666999 and then hit the star key. At the most it'll take us an hour to get here."

Roger slid the card into his shorts, not noticing how the man was studying his body clad only in a tight pair of shorts. His excited six-inches [15 cm] clearly outlined.

"Yes sir," Roger said.

Captain Morgan left and Roger headed upstairs after locking the door. The first thing he did was enter the bathroom and tie the chains connecting Timmy's hands to the shower curtain rod. Then he punched his brother hard in the stomach. Timmy wretched but didn't heave; the last traces of cum trickled out of his ass.

Roger cleaned up his parent's bedroom and bathroom. As he walked out he noticed the VCR was turned on and that there was a tape in it. He removed it and threw it in his room. Then he went to the bathroom, untied Timmy, took him to the slave's bedroom and fucked him. Which is when he noticed the tit clamps and the ball weight, along with the fresh whip marks. When he was done he chained Timmy to the foot of his bed and left the house for the evening. On Roger's return he moved his slave to his bedroom, fucked him again and went to sleep.

The phone woke Roger and Timmy on Sunday morning. It was almost noon.

"Up boy, Seth will be here in an hour and he wants to play. Don't know if he wants to fuck you, piss on you or just beat the shit out of you. And you flaming faggot slut I don't care which or all three. He's my friend and you will let him."

"Yes sir," Timmy said, his cock grown harder with each of Roger's threats. He struggled to his feet and waited for orders.

"Go to the bathroom and get ready. You smell like shit."

"Yes sir." Timmy turned and headed out the room.

As he sat on the porcelain throne he realized that he'd walked and moved almost normally since the phone rang. When he finished shitting and pissing he stood and looked at his back in the mirror.

"Amazing, the strop, the chains, the whip and there's hardly a mark," Timmy whispered and moved his arms. "And no pain. I know it happened, these ropes and chains aren't a dream." The door opening brought him back and he turned to see his brother.

"Yes sir?"

"How do you feel about yesterday? If we keep this up you have to cooperate."

"No problem sir. Just don't leave me totally alone with the guy. The Captain was a nice guy but who knows about other men."

Roger nodded and grabbed the leash. Timmy followed him, easily walking down the stairs. Examining his brother's ass in the torn running shorts. Wondering how Roger's cock would feel up his ass now that he'd accepted everything.

The doorbell rang and Roger opened it. It was Seth with his younger brother Jeremy who was in Timmy's class.

"Wow, bro I thought you were kidding me. Can I really fuck his ass?" Jeremy asked.

"Sure, you can even go first today," Roger said, "After Seth works his back over a bit. Little slut likes it."

"That strop still downstairs?" Seth asked.

"Wherever you left it," Roger said.

"Cool, I'll go get it."

"I'll come with you. Boy, take your classmate into the den and strip him. But wait till we get back before anything else."

"Yes sir." Timmy handed Jeremy the leash and pointed the way.

Once in the room Timmy quickly removed the few pieces of clothing his classmate was wearing. They'd never been friends but gotten along well enough. He also knew everybody at school would know by the end of school on Monday. And he didn't care, even if it meant he would spend every lunch being fucked in the boys' room.

Jeremy sat and pointed at the floor by his feet. Timmy lay down.

"Good doggie," Jeremy said and rubbed in back of Timmy's ears.

Timmy sighed at the tenderness.

It was several minutes before the two older boys returned. Seth was carrying the strop and Roger was waving a videocassette.

"Yesterday's client left this behind only half watched. I think we should take a look. Don't you boy?"

"Yes sir," Timmy said as his cock jerked.

Roger started the tape as Seth pulled Timmy up by the chain collar and dragged him behind the chair. "Bro, reach up and hold onto its hands. If he struggles tell me and he'll pay." Jeremy did as instructed and wrapped his hands around the thinner boy's wrists. His eyes were riveted to the screen and didn't notice when his big brother brought the strop down on Timmy's back for the first time and the gasp from the boy.

The scene had the youngest boy still whipping the same boy, except this time the boy was facing out and the boy was coming awfully close to his cock with the bullwhip.

Seth saw the scene too. "Jeremy let go for a second, slave turn around."

Timmy quickly obeyed and put his wrists back into Jeremy's hands and watched Seth look him over.

Seth grabbed the leash and pulled it tight. "Don't you dare close your eyes boy," he growled and spit in Timmy's mouth.

Seth took two steps back and to the side. He brought the strop hard against Timmy's stomach knocking most of the wind out of the slave and causing him to buck.

On the TV the younger boy twisted his victim around, pulled out his seven-inches [18 cm] from his spiked leather pouch and rammed it in hard and dry.

"Ready Jer?" Seth called as he continued to pelt Timmy's torso.

Jeremy looked down at his hard, untouched seven inches [18 cm]. "Hell yeah, let me at that slut's ass."

Seth grabbed the collar. "Let go and come over here. Now dog you will get down on your hands and knees. Face on the floor and that slut ass sticking up in the air. Treat my brother right and maybe we won't let every boy in both schools fuck your ass for free."

Timmy nodded and got into position, knowing full well that Roger wouldn't let that happen anyway. If Roger couldn't get rid of him then he'd use him to his advantage.

Jeremy almost shot his load when he pressed his cock against Timmy's hole. He took some deep breaths to calm down and slowly pushed his way in. Timmy reflexively opened his sphincter at contact and within moments felt the boy's small bush on his ass.

"Fuck me sir, fuck my worthless slut ass," Timmy said.

Jeremy was startled by the words but quickly did as told. What he didn't see was Roger taking pictures.

Roger was still trying to figure out how but if things went well the queer had spent his last night at home. The pictures would be a nice souvenir, and a way to blackmail Jeremy to taking his place at some point.

Jeremy was focused solely on the sensations flowing through his body as he pounded ass for the first time. His cock was twitching. Suddenly he threw his head back, buried his cock deep into Timmy and howled as shot after shot of boy juice filled the young slut's ass. When he was done he pulled out and walked around and shoved the cum and shit covered cock into Timmy's mouth.

"Clean it boy, clean it good or Seth will use the strop again."

While Seth was fucking Roger ordered pizza and right after he put the third load up his baby brother's ass it arrived.

As the three ate Roger once again used Timmy as a footstool. During halftime Jeremy and Seth fucked Timmy again. Roger made his last the whole third period.

When the game was over the two brothers dressed and left. As he straightened up the downstairs Roger sent Timmy upstairs to shower and clean himself out.

Roger found him in the bathroom, all cleaned and dry. Roger wrapped the leash around the shower rod and stepped back.

"Slave, I'm going to take the chains off now but that doesn't change anything. You are still a worthless fucking faggot slut and I am your master."

"Yes sir, thank you sir," Timmy said and held out his hands.

Within seconds he was free of restraints but knew he was bound with even stronger mental bonds.

Roger sent him to his room with instructions to do his homework.

It was almost six when their parents came through the door. Roger greeted them, smelling the alcohol lingering on his father's breath. The smell made up his mind to do what was better for his younger brother.

"Did you have a good time Dad?"

"You seen one wedding you've seen them all. Food a little better than some and the bar never closed."

Roger nodded at the obvious and took a deep breath.

"Dad I've got something to tell you that you're not going to like."

His father smacked him, "you break something boy?"

Roger winced but held back the tears, if Timmy could so could he. "No, just wanted to tell you that Timmy's a faggot."

"No," his mother said and clasped her hands to her mouth.

"Timmy, get your ass down here!" their father bellowed.

Timmy bounded down the steps like nothing unusual had happened to him over the last fifty hours. "I didn't hear you come in, I was doing homework. How are you? How was your," he was struck silent by slaps to each side of his face.

"Roger says you're one of those fucking faggots. Is he telling the truth?"

Timmy looked at his older brother in dismay.

"Tell him the truth, it'll work out. I promise," Roger mouthed.

Timmy knew how his father felt about people like him but he trusted his master. Besides, it was going to be all over town in a day anyway.

"Yes father, mother. I'm gay, didn't want to be and Roger tried to make me see the light this weekend but it's the truth." He reached out and took his father's hand. "I love you and I'll be a good son, I promise."

His father yanked his hand away and shoved his son to the floor. "I won't have no faggots in my house. I should throw you out of now but I'll give you thirty minutes to pack your backpack with whatever you want and then you'll get your whoring ass out of my house and life forever."

"Mom, please," Timmy said.

"You heard your father."

Timmy got up and ran upstairs, slamming the door to his room.

Roger ran to the den and picked up the phone as he pulled the business card from his pants. After leaving the code he rushed up the stairs and turned the knob to Timmy's door. It was locked and Timmy didn't answer his knock. He got the chair from his room and got the slender piece of metal that served as a room key from above the door and picked Timmy's lock.

Timmy was tying a length of rope to his bed and the other end was already around his neck.

"Don't Timmy, please don't do this."

"Why? Isn't this what you want? Me out of your life forever. So I'll be dead now and not from somebody who pays me for sex and kills me instead of paying."

"I don't want you dead," Roger was near tears. "Look, you knew how Dad would react when he found out and after today everybody was going to know."

"So, that was your doing." Timmy moved toward the window and Roger grabbed his arm.

"Your not my master any more."

"Look, last night, when Captain Morgan was leaving he said he'd like to buy you, take you home with him. He's on his way. You'll have somebody who likes what you like, will take care of you."

"You just don't want the shame of seeing me die."

"I swear it."

"How much are you getting?" Timmy asked.

"Two thousand, but that's besides the point. You'll be better off with him than whoring in New York. Please Timmy, listen to me."

Timmy nodded and removed the noose from his neck. "I can always kill myself later. What do I have to do?"

Roger glanced at the clock. "You've got twenty minutes to get out of here. Pack your backpack with whatever you want to take. Make a quick trip to the bathroom and leave. Slam the door behind you so Dad knows, then go hide in the garage. I'll sneak out about ten minutes later and wait with you. If he doesn't come we'll figure something else out."

Timmy nodded, picked his backpack up and turned his back on Roger. Roger watched for a long moment before slipping out of the room.

He lay on his own bed and stared at the ceiling as the minutes passed. Doubts began to enter his thoughts but he banished them with the thought that his brother was better off with someone who would take care of him rather than with their father, who he'd have to sneak around for years.

"Good-bye assholes," Timmy screamed and slammed the door.

Roger glanced at the clock and slipped his shoes and shirt on. After five minutes he slipped down the stairs and entered the garage through the connecting door.

"Timmy, you here."

"By the door, I don't see anybody yet."

"He said it might take him an hour, and if he couldn't leave right away it might be longer. I'll wait with you."

"Do you think he's really as nice as he was last night?" Timmy asked.

"Face it, Dad isn't easy to live with and he would be impossible for you to be around."

Timmy nodded and they turned to look at the street as a long Lincoln Town Car pulled to a stop.

"Wait here," Roger said and walked out as the door opened.

"Roger, where's Timmy?" Captain Morgan said as the front door opened and a giant black man emerged.

"In the garage, do you have the money?"

The Captain took out a wad of bills. "When he's in the car."

"You will take good care of him? Won't you?"

"Roger, it's a little late to ask that. Now get him out here."

Roger stepped back, turned and waved. Timmy ran out of the garage with the backpack slung over one arm.

"You came, thank God. I was so afraid I'd be homeless," Timmy said as he grabbed and kissed the man's hand.

Captain Morgan ran his hands through the little boy's hair. "You're fine now, we'll have to talk later and set down rules but you're fine. Now get into the backseat of the car. Do what Hercules tells you."

"Yes master," Timmy said and hurried off.

"Now Roger, I think we should finish our business in the garage."

"Sure," Roger said and led the way toward the back of the structure.

"OK, where's my money?" Roger said.

Captain Morgan drove a fist deep into the boy's stomach, doubling him up and if he hadn't caught him Roger would have been face down on the floor.

While holding the twitching boy with one hand he ripped the shirt and pants off with the other.

"Boy, there's nothing I hate more than people who do things like this to family. If you had been a good brother Timmy wouldn't have this problem. Now you're going to get some of your own medicine.

"Please, you can keep the money," Roger cried.

Instead of a reply he was slammed into the car and held there. The next thing he felt was the Captain's hard cock pushing into his virgin hole.

"Please, no."

"You should have thought of that before," the Captain said as he shoved his twelve inches [30 cm] in all the way as Roger screamed.

The Captain smiled as the crying turned to moans and he felt the boy's spunk land on his shoe. That settled the rest of his plan.

He'd love to take his time raping this tight hole but knew it was risky, even in this quiet neighborhood. The Captain picked up the pace and quickly filled Roger's hole. He pulled out and threw the boy to the floor as he used part of Roger's shirt to wipe himself off.

"Hercules, your turn, and then bring him to the car."

"Yes sir," the big black man said.

Roger looked up and groaned as he saw the fourteen inches [36 cm] of thick uncut cock emerge. He shook his head. Hercules smiled and nodded. Picked the boy up and slowly inserted his already throbbing cock. When he was all the way in he looked down at the astonished boy.

"You are one hot boy. The customers are going to love you," Hercules said and started pounding all the way out and in. Roger was so torn between pain and lust that he didn't even think about what he'd heard.

When Hercules was close he pulled at and let his load shoot all over Roger's face. The boy started lunging his tongue out to gather it all in.

Hercules used a piece of shorts to clean up and then with a glance out the door hurried Roger along to the car and threw him in the back. Captain Morgan grabbed him and put plastic handcuffs on his hands, feet and balls before he could react. Then his new master punched him in the stomach forcing his mouth open and a ball gag was forced into place.

The car was moving by the time Roger recovered his bearings. He glanced at Timmy and saw he was trussed the same way. Except while he was on the floor his little brother was sitting next to the Captain.

"Timmy, Roger, this is what's happening. You are now my property and slaves. Among the sex clubs I own is one specializing in the torture and bondage of young boys as well as their being used sexually. Roger, you're going there directly. I am taking Timmy home with me for a while, but I'm sure you'll be reunited before you're finished Roger."

Chapter Two

Timmy looked at his older brother on the floor of Captain Morgan's limo. Naked, hands bound behind his back with plastic ties, another tie around his ankles and behind his balls. Plus a ball gag filled his mouth. Timmy realized he was trussed the same way. What surprised him was Roger's cock. As hard as his own, and it was leaking.

Roger on the other hand was dazed and confused. His perfect plan to rid himself of his faggot baby brother and make two thousand dollars in the bargain was up in smoke. He'd been stripped, raped twice and was now bound and gagged. Headed someplace, a slave sex club for boys the Captain had said. It wasn't fair, he wasn't a faggot; he'd just done those things to Timmy because the bastard deserved them.

But yet as he felt the bumps in the road as the miles rolled past he started thinking about everything since he and his two friends started on Timmy Friday afternoon. Yeah, he'd enjoyed beating and chaining him. But fucking the twelve-year-old's mouth and ass had really excited him, made him feel good. How hard he'd been the whole time. How hard, he suddenly realized, he was right then.

"Timmy, I think your big brother is beginning to understand the truth about himself," the Captain said as he stroked the youngster's tiny prick.

Timmy nodded, all he could do with the ball gag firmly in place.

"Oh dear, I forgot about that. If I take it out do you promise not to yell or cry."

Timmy nodded vigorously and the Captain removed the gag and gently massaged the boy's jaw so it worked properly.

"Now boy, do you think the one on the floor understands now?"

This time Timmy looked from his master to his brother and back before answering. "That he's gay too? I think so, it's what else is coming I'm not even sure of Master."

"Are you gay boy?" the Captain said and kicked Roger in the ribs.

Roger gasped and nodded.

"If I take your gag off will you scream or cry?"

Roger shook his head hard and the Captain removed Roger's gag. Roger started crying but forced the sobs down and was relieved not to be struck again.

"You said something about me going to a slave club and taking Timmy home with you for now," Roger said. "That's right, you both belong to me now. You will do as I, my employees or clients tell you or you will be punished. This will be your life until you're eighteen and the sooner you accept it the easier it will on you. I take care of my slaves and there are limits to what the customers can do. But you will be fucked, whipped, beaten, and tortured every day." "But won't my, our parents come looking for us?" Roger said.

"Oh I'm sure they'll call the cops tomorrow and tell them you're both missing and put up posters and all that shit. Then the police will get a letter accusing your father of raping and beating both of you. He'll deny it but the shame will cause him to kill your mother and then commit suicide."

"Cool," Timmy said.

Roger looked at the Captain and brother in shock. Then smiled. "How about our inheritances? I know Dad's got some life insurance policies, don't know how much. Plus the house and all."

Captain Morgan leaned back and laughed. "I think you'll do well boy, I may even have a place for you after your done being a boy slave. Not many of the slaves have as much education as you two. Had one whose mother sold him at three for drugs. Not to me, Cat worked other places first, but he's gone now."

"Dead?" Timmy whispered.

"Oh no, a customer went to far and he became useless to me so I sold him to a customer who's taking good care of him now. I told you boy, you will not be killed and you will be taken care of. But I tell you what, since this is the last time the two of you will be together for a while why don't you 69 on the floor," Morgan said and pushed Timmy off the seat.

When Timmy hit the floor he was face to face with Roger. "It's ok, everything will be ok. We'll be together soon and after I'm eighteen we'll be together again."

"I'm so sorry for everything I did to you, said to you. But for some reason not this. Do you understand?

Timmy reached forward and kissed Roger's lips, nodded, then turned around and licked the precum off his brother's cock. Roger gasped and for the first time in his life took a cock into his mouth.

It was Timmy's turn to gasp and swallow his brother's cock. Slowly working his small lips up and down his brother's hard six inches [15 cm]. Somehow it tasted different. It wasn't the cock that raped him but one making love to him. And when he felt his big brother's lips on his groin he felt feelings he'd never felt before.

Tears rolled down Roger's cheeks as he worked on his baby brother's cock. This was so good, so right. Why had he listened to his father's venom all these years? He started working on the small, hard, throbbing cock in his mouth in ways he didn't know he knew. Feeling his sperm looking for a way to escape from behind the plastic strap.

Timmy pulled his mouth of Roger's cock. "Master, please cut the straps, let us share our seed once with love."

Captain Morgan leaned over to where the glasses and snacks were and lifted a cover. He picked up a long knife, opened it and leaned over. He gently cut the two cock restraints and the boys went back to work.

It took moments before brother swallowed brother's load. Once spent they carefully cleaned the cock in their mouth before licking their lips clean.

"Boy's I have a feeling that a lot of my clients will like the idea of having brothers together. Especially two hot ones, especially after we get you shaved."

"I don't shave," Timmy said.

"He means your pubes and underarm," Roger said. "That'll make us look even younger than we are and I guess the client's like that."

"How old are you boy?"

"Fifteen Master and Timmy's twelve," Roger said.

"And you've always been top dog at school."

"Yes Sir."

"Well boy, you've got a lot to learn about being a boy slave whore but I don't want you forgetting how to be top dog. I need a boy with a brain in the slave quarters to be in charge, keep things in order without me or my staff having to do everything."

"Won't the others resent a newcomer taking over?" Timmy said.

"Oh they may baby bro, but if they don't listen to logic then they'll learn the hard way. Or have you forgotten how I treated you the last two days already?" Roger said.

Timmy leaned over and kissed his brother.

They sat in silence for the rest of the trip to Captain's Morgan secluded mansion. Timmy jerked his eyes open when they pulled off the road and rolled up the driveway.

"Are we there Sir?" Timmy said.

"We're home, Hercules will take your brother to the club once he has you in your cage."

Timmy heard the word and it didn't even bother him. A fact he didn't even find curious.

The car stopped and they heard the front door open.

"I'll be waiting for you Timmy," Roger said.

"I don't know how long it'll be, but I'll be there," Timmy said.

Neither boy noticed the Captain wipe his eyes as he left the car.

"Hercules, tell Bart to put Roger aside and call Sam Charger. Ask him to come in and start the training."

"You think the boy's up to that?"

"Has to be, if he's going to be what I think he can be."

Hercules nodded, leaned into the car, lifted Timmy out and threw the tiny boy over his shoulder. Timmy waved his bound hands toward the Captain and his brother as they proceeded around the house. Hercules opened a door and turned the light on revealing five cages, there was another boy in one. Hercules put Timmy next to one away from the boy and cut the plastic ties, then replaced them with a collar around his throat that he locked then hooked a chain to.

"In boy, this is your home. If you need to shit or piss pick one corner."

"Yes Sir."

"Actually there's a big bucket in there, now get a good night's sleep."

"Thank you Sir," Timmy said and entered the cage. He found he could barely stand upright as he heard the door close and lock behind him.

The lights went out and something like a nightlight went on. He spotted his bucket and peed. He curled up in another corner of his cage and fell asleep.

"Boy, boy, wake up," the noise was repeated several times before Timmy stirred and turned in its direction.

"What?"

"Good, bathroom quick before he comes for us," the other boy said in a thick Russian accent.

Timmy didn't question, a junior slave listened to his elder when no master was around. First he pissed into the bucket and then squatted over it. He'd just finished cleaning himself when the door opened and a man he didn't recognize walked in.

"Morning slave, are you ready for another day of work?" he asked the older slave.

"Morning Sir! I am ready to do your and my Master's bidding," the slave said standing at attention.

Timmy watched the man stroll down from the far end. Snapping to attention as the man passed the cage next to his own. The man was dressed in black leather pants and open vest. Solid muscle, smooth torso and blond shoulder length hair combined to radiate power and sex in Timmy's mind.

"So you are the new slave?"

"Yes Sir."

"Ears and something between them, very good. For now the one down there will be slave 1 and you will be slave 2. If no number is used both of you things will be expected to respond."

"Yes Sir," Timmy said.

"Slave 1."

"Yes Sir," the older brown haired boy said.

"You will instruct slave 2 on keeping his cage and this room clean. If he learns well you can fuck his worthless mouth. If not," the man shrugged.

"Yes Sir," slave 1 said.

The man walked to the wall and Timmy shot a glance at the other boy while his back was turned. The boy didn't turn but Timmy noticed the boy's hairless cock was hard.

The man returned with a set of keys and two leashes. He went to the other cage, unlocked it and replaced the chain with the leash. Slave 1 went to his hands and knees and led the trainer over to Timmy's cage where the process was repeated.

Timmy didn't have any problems until they went outside and his knees and palms hit the rocks and dirt. He had to struggle to keep up with slave 1 but was managing when he hit a big rock with his knee. "Ouch," he cried.

The leash handles came down on his bare back three times, each harder than the one before until the twelve-year-old collapsed to the ground only to be yanked back into position.

"That is a sign of weakness your Master said I would not see. Wait until your training starts for true pain."

"I'm sorry Sir," Timmy whimpered only to be rewarded with the handle across his balls.

"I do not ask for apologies, I expect obedience."

Timmy struggled back to position and nodded his head.

"Go."

Timmy made it to a building in the back of the yard without falling or yelling again, and was rewarded by a pat on the head for his efforts. The man opened the door and slave 1 entered and Timmy quickly followed. His eyes popped when he saw what awaited him.

"Welcome to the training room slave 2. In here you will learn how everything in here is used, and what it feels like when used on your worthless body. Your master seems to think you're a natural but I'm not to rush you. So I won't do the same to you as I will to slave 1, but watch if you can.

"Yes Sir."

"Today's lesson will be whipping. Have you ever been whipped slave 2?"

"My brother and his friends whipped me some over the weekend, and my Daddy spanked me loads Sir."

"Couldn't have been much of a whipping considering your back looks fine. Slave 1, tie slave 2 to the x- frame."

"Yes Sir," slave 1 said. The boy waved his hand and Timmy followed him to the far wall. There was a large open space and Timmy saw various frames he could be stretched out on, but one was clearly an x.

Timmy went to it and put his arms and legs into the proper position. Eventually the trainer held Timmy in place while slave 1 hooked the cuffs and straps into place.

"Don't go anywhere," the trainer said and slapped Timmy's ass before leading slave 1 away. "To the rack."

Screams jerked Timmy back from the quiet place he always went to when he was nervous about a new experience.

"Another you fucking dog?"

"Please sir, no, I beg of." There was a click, almost a popping sound and another long scream.

Timmy felt a long, hard leather tube across his back and sighed. "Don't let those screams bother you little one. Pretty soon you'll be making your own. And scream away, this cabin is soundproofed and miles away from anybody who'd care. At that point the new slave realized the tube was the whip's handle, then it left his back and he heard his trainer walk backwards.

Before he could think the whip cracked across his back. Ten times in quick succession, not giving the new slave time to scream.

The strokes stopped, Timmy prepared to finally scream, realized he didn't have to. Instead he took a couple of deep breaths while waiting for the next set.

On the twelfth stoke Timmy screamed as the lash crossed three others and drew blood for the first time. By the sixteenth he was begging for mercy. On the twenty-fifth he shot his load and the screams turned to orgasmic delight.

"Oh shit," the trainer said after walking around and seeing what happened. "You shot your load? Boy you are a natural at this. Just hang there for a bit."

"Yes Sir," Timmy said between ragged breaths. He felt the pain flaring across his back, the blood dripping down and reveled in it. Didn't understand that, just knew he was where and he was what he was supposed to be.

Out of the blue came twenty more across his ass and then the straps around his waist and legs were released so he was hanging by his wrists so he looked like a y instead of an x.

Timmy stopped screaming once the pain in his ass subsided then realized his cock was hard again. The throbbing ache in his shoulders distracted from his other aches and the whimpering coming from across the room.

An empty feeling in his gut gradually overwhelmed the other pains he was feeling and Timmy realized it'd been at least a full day since he'd eaten anything besides cum.

"Hello," he called.

"Quiet, no talking without permission slave 2," the other boy said.

Timmy's gut reaction was to yell at the other boy, ask him if they ever fed the slaves. Instead he remembered their trainer might be there, waiting to see what he'd do so he just hung there. Looking down he saw a railing against the wall and began swinging his hips. He slammed against the x-frame several times but his bare toes finally hooked against the railing and by rising up relieved some of the pressure off his wrists and shoulders.

"Very good slave 2. You obeyed your senior and found a way to help yourself. Now get your fucking paws off that railing before I whip them off."

Timmy pushed off instantaneously, bracing himself for the impact when he swung back onto the x-frame. Instead two powerful hands grabbed his waist. One arm snuck around him while the other untied his wrists before he was gently lowered to the ground.

He looked up at the trainer and smiled his thanks.

"Crawl after me boy so I can release slave 1."

Timmy pushed himself to all fours under the trainer's eye, biting his lip when his arms protested but when called upon he moved. Since he was behind his trainer he looked around at all the equipment in the room. Some he could guess their purpose, others not. One scared him to death; he'd seen it in a horror movie, an iron maiden. "No," he gasped.

The trainer turned with his hand beginning the swing, then saw what Timmy was staring at. "No boy, we never use that," he bent down and stroked Timmy's head. "That's just part of the Master's collection. I swear we will never permanently injure or kill you."

"Thank you sir, it just scared me. I seen one in a movie and," Timmy just shivered.

"It's ok boy, we will hurt you, punish you if you deserve it but you'll walk out of this alive. You ready now?"

Timmy got back into position and nodded.

Timmy watched as the big man slowly released the pressure on the older boy's limbs. What struck him was slave 1 screamed as much as the pressure was released as he had when applied. But he knew he would find out why.

Finally the trainer threw slave 1 over his shoulders and motioned Timmy to follow. In a corner of the shed there was a small table with one chair. The trainer lay slave 1 on the floor and pointed out a spot for Timmy. From the table he placed two large dog bowls in front of each boy. Without thinking Timmy dipped his hands into the meat bowl and began eating. At that point it didn't matter if it was dog food or dog shit for that matter. It was something solid to put in his stomach. Once it was gone he picked the other bowl up and drank the lime colored liquid, Gatorade. Finished he touched his forehead to the trainer's foot in thanks.

The man bent over and mussed his hair. "That's a good boy, Master will be pleased when I report."

After they finished eating the trainer led them back to their quarters, but put them together in slave 1's larger cage. "Slave 2, massage his joints and then listen to what he tells you."

Timmy nodded and helped the older boy to the ground. He rubbed and probed the boy's shoulders, knees, hips, and almost every place else. Without being told he knew that slave 1's crotch and ass were out of bounds. No matter how much he wanted to suck on the hard uncut six inches [15 cm] poking skyward he knew, and knew he had to resist the desire to do what was natural.

"That's enough slave 2, help me sit up," slave 1 said.

Timmy had to think for a second to understand what the boy had grunted in his thick accent. Then gently moved him to the wall and propped him up. "Is there any water in here?"

The older boy pointed to the back and Timmy found a spigot and a dirty pail. Remembering what he did in his pail he cupped his hands and carried a little bit back.

"Use the pail, they put new ones in every morning while we're at practice. Until you piss or shit they're safe to drink from."

Timmy filled the pail, drank from it and then refilled it before returning.

"My name's Timmy," he said.

"Egor, I'm from Russia."

"I'm from Queens, that's part of New York City."

"I know we had to study American geography at the training school along with English and culture. We were trained to be more than just sex-slaves, all-around slaves."

"How old were you when you were taken there?"

"About eight, six years I waited for someone to claim me before our Master came. But I made many movies and pictures before then. It was a good life. What about you?"

Timmy sat next to Egor and took a drink from the can. "I've known I was gay for a while even if I'd never done anything besides beat off. Then last Friday everything changed." He proceeded to tell Egor everything that happened since Roger and his friends entered the steam room.

"So fast this feels right for you? You cannot wait to be whore?"

"I guess I can wait for the whore part until the Captain's done with me, but then I'll be back with my brother. It's hard to explain really," Timmy shrugged.

Egor leaned over and kissed Timmy on the cheek. "I guess I should start teaching you the rules."

"I have one question first. Can we have sex with each other?"

"No fucking or putting anything, not even finger, up another slave's hole without our Master's permission. Why do you ask?"

"This is why," Timmy said and took hold of Egor's cock, masturbating it while he licked the uncut head.

"Oh yes, suck me Timmy. Feels so good boy."

Timmy moved in between Egor's legs and slowly swallowed all six inches [15 cm]. Slowly he began going up and down on the fourteen-year-old, the throbbing in his mouth telling him it wouldn't take long. Then he felt Egor's hand encircle his own cock, fist stroking in time with his sucking. Boy tools throbbing in harmony. Egor moved around and they started sixty-nining, unaware of security cameras recording every move and sound. Bobbing heads moved faster, tongues licking cocks, licking precum off slits. Hands caressed each other. Two boys doing what they do best, sex. Simultaneously both boys pulled out and shot their loads over the other's face. Then licked it clean. When they finished Egor kissed Timmy, then they shared some water. "Now it is time I tell you rules. If don't understand tell me."

Later that afternoon the trainer came and led the two slaves to a gym where they ran laps for over an hour in their bare feat. After a water break he gave them jocks before they did some weight work. After that session Timmy was placed in his own cage but Egor was led away. Timmy fell asleep only to woken by a poke in the ribs. "Suppertime, you've got to eat everything to keep your strength up boy."

"Thank you sir," Timmy said groggily and sat up as the trainer shut the cage door. "Where's slave 1?"

"He's busy tonight, he'll be back in the morning." Timmy nodded, understanding his comrad was with the Captain. He ate, stretched his aching body, took a drink of water then pissed and shit in the same tin. Then went back to his "bedroom" and fell asleep for the night. It was still black outside when the trainer kicked Timmy in the ribs. "Up slave 2, you have to take care of slave 1's wounds."

"What? How bad is he hurt?"

The trainer laughed, "nothing serious and get down to his cage. The first aid kit is in there already. Now move boy before you both need to be cared for."

Timmy shook his head and stood, taking three clean tins from the trainer. He shuffled behind him, then past into Egor's cage. He took one look at the bloody heap on the floor and fell to his knees. The door closed behind him and he heard the trainer's footsteps fade away. "Timmy?" Egor's faint voice brought Timmy back to life and he picked up the first aid kit and ran over to the boy. "Water," Egor said. Silently Timmy hands glided over the battered body. He could tell, how he didn't know, that there was nothing seriously wrong. He picked up the cans and filled all three of them with fresh water. Egor drank greedily, then turned over and heaved into the dirt. "Sorry kid," he said in his thick Russian accent, "you shouldn't drink cold water fast right after session with Captain. Just wash blood off and you see it not bad."

"I be gentle. You want to sip some water now?" Egor shook his head and moved away from the vomit. Timmy gently poured water over the older slave's left arm and wiped the blood away. Marks from different kinds of whips covered it but Egor didn't flinch. Timmy repeated the process over the rest of him until he was clean. The worst was Egor's chest. Captain Morgan had focused his efforts on the slave's nipples and ribs. Every square inch covered with marks. For the first time Timmy wondered what he'd gotten himself into. Would he be able to make it? Take what his trainer and master had in store for their slave? "I be fine, you be fine. Rack last morning hurt me more."

"I know that hurt a lot but you're a mess. He didn't miss an inch of you, even got inside your hole with the whip." Egor tried to shrug but ended up grimacing. "How soon did your back stop hurting earlier?"

"End of lunch."

"And you still new. Whipping hurts while it's being done but stops quickly. When you go to new levels of rack or some of the others it last a lot longer."

"Will you have training in the morning?" Egor nodded, "but he will give me less than usual. Now let's sleep."

Timmy nodded, kissed Egor and they slept cradled together. Sunlight streaming through the window told Timmy the kick to his ribs was later than the day before. He looked up and smiled at the trainer before shaking Egor awake.

"Time slave 1."

Egor groaned before letting Timmy help him sit up.

"On your feet slaves before I regret letting you sleep an extra hour," the trainer snarled.

Timmy scrambled to his feet and started to help Egor up but the trainer put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him back. Timmy looked up.

"He's got to do it himself so I can see how hurt he is. Your master's rules make sure nobody goes over the line. You'll appreciate that once you get to the whorehouse."

Timmy nodded and they watched Egor finish getting shakily to his feet.

"I'm fine Sir," Egor said.

The trainer nodded, turned and headed out the door. He led them into a garden area and pointed at a bare spot. "Piss and shit there, the ground needs fertilizer."

Egor moved and Timmy followed instantly. The older slave pointed at a spot and Timmy first pissed then shit on the ground. He looked over and saw Egor using his hand to wipe his ass and then rub it into the dirt.

"Enough, slave 1 show slave 2 where he should wash before going inside." Egor rubbing his hands on his chest and Timmy grimaced before doing the same with his shit and dirt covered hands. When Egor ran his fingers through his hair Timmy couldn't follow suit.

"Do it or you won't get to wash slave 2," the trainer said and swatted his back. Timmy doubted that but knew today's training would be hard and further hesitation would make it more so. Egor led them to an old swing set with the swings removed. Hanging from the cross bar were sets of chains which the trainer rapidly wound around their wrists.

"Feet apart," the trainer snapped as he picked up a garden hose and aimed it at them. He turned the knob and Timmy braced himself for a hard cold blast but instead it was warm and comforting. When they were clean the trainer let them there to dry. On his return he carried a bullwhip.

"Not for you slave 1, you just hang there and listen." The trainer stepped back and let Timmy see the long leather whip dangle by his side. He liked what he saw from the twelve-year-old. A little nervousness but no fear. He wrist flicked and the tip smacked right into slave 2's breastbone with a loud crack. Timmy felt the hit, heard the crack and thought his bones had snapped.

"Just sound of whip," Egor whispered and Timmy realized he was right just before the second snap almost took his left nipple off and the third his right. As the training progressed Timmy realized he was getting a taste of what his friend had gone through from their master. He ached, no hurt badly. But not that badly. The sight of his own blood streaming down his naked restrained body didn't even bother him. The ultimate was when he saw how hard his cock was and how it exploded when he felt the tip inside him.

"Holy mother of God," the trainer whispered. Egor just stared. Timmy just hung there breathing hard while waiting for the next hit.

"I don't believe it," Egor said. "I've heard of it happening but I've never seen it," the trainer said. "Can't even stay hard."

"Did I do something wrong?" Timmy said.

"No slave 2, your master will be pleased when I report," the trainer said. "But what did I do that was special? I want to make sure I do it again."

"You shot your load Timmy, I mean slave 2," Egor said. He glanced over at the trainer, nervous because he'd broken a rule.

"I wasn't supposed to?" Timmy asked confused.

"Boy, I have been a slave, master and trainer since before you were born and I have never seen anyone come while being seriously whipped with one of these," the trainer said shaking the bullwhip in front of Timmy's eyes. "By the time a slave gets that much punishment they're either screaming or fainted, not shooting their load a mile."

"But you just started." The trainer looked at Egor and then his watch. "Almost forty-five minutes of nonstop torture. Just look down at your front. Timmy did as instructed and was amazed at the mass of blood caked welts that covered his torso and legs, and started feeling the pain now that the ecstasy was gone. His body started shaking as he cried.

"Take him down sir, he's, he's," Egor shouted.

"Shush boy," the trainer said as he grabbed hold of Timmy and unchained him. He held the boy while he used one hand to release Egor from his chains. Egor fell but scrambled to his feet. He wanted to ask the trainer how his new friend was but he'd violated rules at least twice.

"Run boy, go to the kitchen and get a blanket and the first aid kit by the stove. Then get a pail of warm water and towels. Go." Egor took off on his hard bare feet, limp cock banging from thigh to thigh as he ran faster than he ever had. The trainer lay Timmy on the floor in front of the stove and started examining him. Cursing himself as he went.

"Blanket." Egor held Timmy's shaking hand as the trainer wrapped the blanket around him and then went and got a cold soda from the refrigerator.

"Lift his head up so I can get this into him," the trainer said softly. His feared this could damage the older boy's usefulness as much as the younger by seeing this, but he needed him there. Egor did as told, "I think not shaking as much."

"Good, a little more soda and we'll lay him down to rest while I feed you." The trainer stroked Egor's hair as the boy ate and gave him the rest of the soda, a rare treat for the slave. "Are you ok slave 1? And be honest, I'm not going to punish you for anything this morning."

"A little upset sir, saw this happen to a young boy at orphanage but they didn't care about us like you and master so he died. I will feel better when slave 2 does, and I will continue to be good slave for my master."

"Good, I'm glad and you know we wouldn't let either of you die."

"Yes sir. Should I wash him now?"

"Are you finished your meal?"

"Yes sir."

"Then go, but get fresh warm water."

The trainer ate while watching one slave clean the other. Amazed how much tenderness a boy who'd never known any could give.

"Sir, come quickly please."

The trainer almost snapped at the implied command but moved. "What is it boy?"

"Look, look at him. I do not believe it."

The trainer looked, felt, turned him over and felt every inch of the boy's body. Even the private area where the last lash had gone. Not a cut, not a welt, not a mark of any kind from any of the beatings inflicted over the past week.

"Is he the one?" Egor whispered. "I don't know; it is a question left for our master."

"Only a supreme master like ours can know, but even in orphanage there were stories about the one slave who could endure almost anything and heal himself to his inner perfection. Never dream I come close to one who may be."

"Nor I, quiet he's waking up."

Timmy stirred on the floor and slowly opened his eyes. First he saw Egor. "What happened? Where." Before he finished he saw the trainer. "Forgive me sir for my weakness. I accept your punishment."

"You are not going to be punished boy. You did nothing wrong by fainting after your torture this morning. Much more experienced and older slaves than you have fainted long before you did. Are you ready to eat?"

"Thank you sir. Please sir, and to drink if I can?" He looked down at his body and realized it was clean and turned to his friend. "Did you clean me?" Egor nodded. "Thank you."

"Your welcome, now eat. You need your strength to become a good slave."

"Thank you slave 1, you are right."

The trainer gave Egor a second helping and both of them their own sodas. He sat and drank his own and tried to prepare his report. Captain Morgan had said this was a special boy. But this special? Could he have known? And what of the afternoon's training? He waited till both were finished and watching him. Silently he rose and motioned them to their hands and knees and signaled them to follow. As they walked around the estate he evaluated his own actions. A slip of discipline but making them walk like dogs reminded slaves of their place. Gone to long with the young boy? He shook his head. He'd report and his master would make the decision. They came into a fenced in heated pool and he led them in and pointed. "Twenty lengths, quickly now." The trainer took a chair at the end of the pool and watched his two charges begin their laps. Physical brutality had been part of his life as long as he could remember. As a baby he watched his father beat his mother and older brothers and sisters. He had felt the hand at three and the belt at five. Raped by his father's cock right after the first whipping. He'd taken it as a matter of course until he saw his father start on his younger brother four years later. After taking his father's gun he hot wired a car and blown his head off in a drive by. Four hundred miles later he pulled into New York City and worked the streets until the Captain had taken him in. That was a dozen years ago and until today he'd never questioned his life or seen anybody like slave 2. The phone next to him rang and he jumped.

"Dave."

"Why are they in my pool?" the Captain snapped.

"Captain, Sir, I can explain." After all these years the man made him nervous.

"Report."

He was still talking when the boys finished the twenty so he waved them to keep going. "And right now they're still swimming hard, well past the twenty lengths I originally told them," the trainer finished. "I can see that. You do know this changes everything."

"Yes Sir, though it's still early."

"Call them over and have them stand by the ladder at your end and slowly turn with their arms out until you tell them to stop," Captain Morgan said. Moments later the boys stood twirling around mindlessly. Truly mindlessly since they never considered why their trainer was having them turn endlessly. "Dave my boy, I think we may have found him."

"I know."

"He can't know, and make sure Egor knows he can't even breathe a word about the legend or he won't even breathe period."

"Understood. What should I do now?"

"The rack for two hours, a notch, no two more than beginners. Then have Egor prepare him for tonight."

"Yes Sir." The line went dead but Dave took a minute before putting it down. He took a look into the headset and put it down. "Stop, slave 2 there are towels in shed right by the gate. Bring three back fast." Timmy turned and walked away. "Slave 1, our master says you are not to say one word about the legend or that slave 2 might be the one. If you do you will suffer the consequences."

"Understand Sir."

"He is going on the rack next and then you will prepare him for the Captain's pleasure." Egor nodded. Timmy silently returned and handed the trainer and his friend towels and began drying himself, unaware of being examined by three sets of eyes

Back in his New York City office Captain Morgan flicked the remote camera off and scanned the bank of monitors behind his desk until he saw Timmy's older brother Roger being worked over by Morgan's old friend Sam Charger. A push of a button and the picture jumped to the large monitor, other controls turned on the volume and zoomed the camera in for a closer look. According to Sam the boy had remarkable recuperative powers for one so new to the life but it didn't take close examination to see scars and welts settling into place. Sam dropped the whip and picked up the cane and approached the dangling naked boy. A master trainer Sam had jumped at the chance to do the Captain a favor, especially with a truly fresh boy. His slave turned lover turned son and apprentice was still hot in bed but their torture sessions had slowly dwindled since they'd brought Hank into their home. Trouble was Hank was really Ray's slave so Sam supervised but didn't do much to either boy. And he missed it. And Roger was paying the price. Captain Morgan watched intently as Charger used the cane on every inch of Roger's body for twenty minutes. The blood flowed, welts rose into the air while the boy screamed. Like his younger brother he stayed erect until the cane came down hard on his boy cock. Morgan pushed a button and Hercules opened the door. "As soon as Charger's done bring the boy here and hang him up."

"Should I wash the blood off first?"

"Yes, but don't tend to any wounds." Hercules nodded and left. Morgan pushed the intercom, "Bart watch the monitors and I don't want to be disturbed by anybody except Hercules." Another switch and the sets went dark. "Is he the one? After all these years have I found the special boy? And if it is what does it mean?" One thing he knew was if it were true Timmy's whoring days were over before they began and even Roger would have a different role to play. "But in the name of all I believe what does it really mean?" There were several versions of the legend. What they said of the boy's physical purity never changed. Neither did the assertions that it would mean something important. Plus the boy would be in great danger. From masters and those who would destroy our world. But there were several variations of what the changes brought about by the one would be 3;

Meanwhile, the trainer and Egor were tying Timmy to the rack. "Don't worry boy, I'll keep a good eye on you once I get slave 1 started."

"Yes sir." The trainer started turning the wheel. Usually the first time it was just enough to raise the body of the table. In Timmy's case it took fifteen notches. After a deep breath the trainer turned two more. "Don't go anywhere boy?" he said with a grin that Timmy honestly returned. "Slave 1, go to the milking machine."

"Yes sir." Egor turned and walked away. "Are you ok slave 2?"

"Yes, I'll be fine," Timmy said and wondered at the question as his trainer walked away until the first muscle spasm shook his stretched body. At the other side of the room the trainer flipped a switch and a pump started moving up and down on Egor's cock. "I know you'll be thirsty when this is done so the more cum you produce the more you'll have to drink." Egor nodded and sighed as he approached his first orgasm. As he reached Timmy the trainer heard Egor's cry out and smiled. Then the phone on the wall rang. "Yes sir."

"Another two, quickly," the Captain said and hung up. The trainer did as instructed and Timmy screamed loud enough to block out the noise from Egor's second orgasm. Five minutes before the two hours were up the phone rang again. "Yes sir."

"At the mark lower him till his ass is just grazing the bed then whip him with the cat for a half hour before releasing him."

"Sir, if I may," the trainer said.

"I know what you're feeling, but this must be done," the Captain said and hung up.

After fifteen minutes Timmy passed out but the whipping continued. An hour later he woke in Egor's arms in a large bathroom located behind their cages. "Good, you wake in time to get ready?" Egor said.

"What? Why? Where am I?"

"Bathroom, we have to get you ready for the Captain."

"Tonight? Am I ready for him?"

Egor looked down at the younger boy's chest and didn't see a mark. "You are. Now the first step is an enema to get your ass clean for our master's cock. Have you ever had one?"

"My dad believed that death came through the colon so I had one every week."

"Then let's start and then you have to shower before the trainer returns." Timmy nodded and struggled to his feet.

An hour later the trainer came in with a bag. He slowly examined slave 2 inside and out and nodded his approval. "Good job slave 1, go to your cage and close it and I'll bring you supper when I get back."

"Thank you sir." The trainer turned to Timmy. "Tonight is important for you boy. Your master will make decisions based on how you behave. You must do and submit to everything and anything he demands without question or thinking."

"I know sir. I will make my master and you proud." The trainer nodded and opened the bag bringing out two sets of shackles. Rapidly he shackled Timmy's wrists together followed by his legs. Then he ran a chain from the collar through the wrist shackles and attached it to the leg shackles. "Follow me." Timmy walked carefully and was led to and through a long passage ending at a big oak door with a large brass knocker. The trainer opened the door and stepped out of the way. Timmy shuffled in and looked at the dungeon. The door closed behind him.

Chapter Three

"I don't want to be disturbed until I ring for you."

"Yes sir," Hercules said and departed.

"Forgive me master. I don't know what," Roger started pleading.

"Silence boy or I'll think that you did do something wrong."

Roger shook his head furiously until Morgan put up his hand.

"I have some questions and you have no choice but to answer truthfully. How is your training going?"

"I've never experienced anything like it, never hurt like this, even after the car wreck. But I'm learning to be a good slave and a good slut and I know it's the life I was meant for."

"You will be able to be the leader in the barracks?"

A smile flickered across Roger's bruised face. "My trainer is not alone in beating me, but I don't think the other boys will try it again."

"So that's really what happened to Amos," the Captain said.

Another smile.

"You mentioned a car wreck. Tell me about it. Who was in it?"

"All four of us. We were driving home from a Met's game at Shea Stadium when Dad swerved into the next lane and we got smashed by a bus and the car rolled over one and a half times."

"He was drunk?"

"Of course, but he was so trapped and injured that by the time they tested him he was just under the limit."

"A shame he survived."

"If he'd died I wouldn't be here so it was for the best."

The Captain smiled and pressed a button that lowered Roger just enough so his feet were flat on the ground. "That's your reward, you can just as easily be punished."

"Thank you Master."

"How about you and Timmy?"

"I broke my left leg in two places and they had to remove my spleen. Lots of bruises. Doctor was amazed at how quickly I healed though, was out of the casts in three weeks."

"Excellent, and Timmy."

Roger shook his head. "He'd been out on his feet on the way back to the car so Dad threw him over his shoulder and then into the backseat without strapping him in. With the swerve he came toward me and when the bus hit he was thrown through one of the windows face first. I saw blood gush out and he had to be hit by the car as it rolled," Roger took a breath, "I knew he was dead."

"How long did it take him to recover?"

"They loaded me into the same ambulance he was in and he stood and hugged me when they put me in. There wasn't a scratch on him, not a bruise nothing."

"Amazing, can you remember other times he'd been hurt or cut and healed remarkably?"

"Is Timmy OK?"

"Because he's your brother I'll forgive you, but if you dare ask a question of me again you will be punished. Timmy is fine and doing remarkably well. Now answer the question boy."

"Thank you my Master. Last year, no the year before he fell out of the tree in the backyard. I heard the bone snap and he was screaming his fucking head off. I ran in, called 911 before calling Mom at work. We got to the hospital and they rolled him into the emergency room. Fifteen minutes later they called me and Mom in and started yelling at us for the prank until the EMS gal said she'd felt the break. There was no sign of a break, of any injury."

"You told me the truth about what you and your friends did to him last weekend?"

"Yes sir, and more after you'd gone."

Captain Morgan turned on the big monitor and Timmy stretched out on the rack quickly came into focus. "That's a live shot Roger. Since he started his training he's been whipped several times, including this morning with a bullwhip for forty-five minutes. Do you see a mark on him?"

"No Sir."

Captain Morgan hit a button on the phone. "Yes sir," a voice Roger didn't recognize said. "At the mark lower him till his ass is just grazing the bed then whip him with the cat for a half hour before releasing him."

"Sir, if I may."

"I know what you're feeling, but this must be done," the Captain said and stabbed the button.

Minutes later a large white man in his twenties appeared and followed the Captain's orders.

"That's your brother's trainer, one of the best in the business. Watch."

Master and slave watched. The slave in awe as the young boy took the punishment. The older brother unnerved seeing the result of his actions. But unable to move his eyes away, even after Timmy passed out.

When the whipping ended Morgan turned the monitor off. "I will be with him tonight and he will suffer even more. I will cut him deeply with a knife and by the time you see him in the morning there won't be a mark on him. Do you agree? The truth."

"I'm sure you're right Master."

Morgan pushed another button on the phone.

"Yes Sir," Hercules said.

"I'm ready to go home and we're bringing Roger with us. You and Dave can have some fun."

"Yes Sir, I'll be right there."

Timmy stood where he'd been left. Free to move around the dungeon but knowing better. From the other side of the room he heard a door open then footsteps before Captain Morgan finally came into view. Unlike the first times they'd met his master was dressed in tight fitting denim shorts and an open light denim short-sleeve shirt. As he approached Timmy saw Morgan's erection straining his shorts then his eyes moved up to his muscular arms and realized that he was in for a lot of torment even if Captain Morgan never took him near a machine. And he wanted the man to hurt him, abuse him, torture him and most of all fuck him.

"Your trainer has given glowing reports of your training," Morgan said and punched Timmy in the stomach.

"Thank you sir."

"He said you have special talents as a slave," a kick in the balls and Timmy sagged to his knees.

"Even Egor and Roger seem impressed," a knee to the head and Timmy sprawled face downward on the floor.

"And so is your master," a kick to the head sent Timmy into unconsciousness.

When the young slave woke he hung spread-eagled in the center of the room. Every inch of his body exposed to his master's whim. What he felt wasn't pain but hands gently feeling every inch of his body that a finger could touch. Including those most private areas. Well private for a free person at any rate. Timmy sighed.

"Ah, you're awake. We can begin. You are being tested my young slave and how you do will close some doors for you and open others. More questions will arise than will be answered." Timmy listened to his master but it didn't make sense. If he failed would he be kicked out on the street? He had to be good enough to be a slave whore. "You have quite a remarkable body, so smooth and fine. Not a mark on it. How is that possible my boy? Are you an alien or some kind of mutant?"

Morgan left the confused boy and walked to a stand and picked up a cane and showed it to Timmy. The twelve-year-old gasped. Metal spikes ranging from an eighth to a full inch [3 to 25 mm] lined the barrel. Timmy watched his master step back, bring the cane back like a baseball bat and swing it full force into his chest. The force of the blow knocked his wind out and embedded the spikes into his skin. Morgan had to yank it to get it out. Timmy screamed. Captain Morgan smiled. Then hit him again and again. Slowly covering every inch of Timmy's body except his eyes. Blood flowed freely. Morgan finally dropped the cane and got a chain and wrapped it tight around the boy's cock and nuts, then hung a five-pound [2¼ kg] weight on it. This was followed by a twelve-inch by six-inch [30 x 15 cm] vibrating studded dildo shoved up his ass, while it was vibrating.

"Comfortable, good," Morgan laughed, "don't go anywhere cause I'll be right back with another toy." Morgan's eyes went wide when Timmy nodded his obedience. He walked around to the hanging slave's back and looked closely. Some of the shallow cuts had almost disappeared without a trace.

Timmy tried tracing his actions and words from the time his master picked him and his brother up. What action put his future as a slave-whore in doubt?

A click and a motor starting up broke his concentration. Seconds later he realized he was on a vertical rack and the chains around his wrists and ankles were stretching his twelve-year-old body.

The bat crack on his ass forced the vibrating dildo further and further up his anus, past the prostate and into his intestines.

The pain in his muscles distracted him every muscle and bone stretched to its limits. Timmy wanted to cry out, scream, beg his master to turn it off.

But didn't. If he'd displeased his master, or even if it was just for fun, if his master wanted to tear him apart he accepted it as his place.

Special sensors in the room turned off the motors moments before the first muscle and ligaments would have torn free from the bone.

Morgan dropped the bat and rammed a plug well inside his slave's ass so the dildo wouldn't slip out. Then he slipped a hood over Timmy's head and tightened it. Leaving the boy, blind and deaf but with plenty of air, though the boy didn't know it. The hood was made of soundproofing material so the Captain wouldn't hear the boy's screams, not that they would have bothered him a bit.

The slave master sat on a table, pulled his cock out and flicked a switch. Six mechanical whips pelted every inch of the slave. Four bullwhips plus two cats took their turns. One cat attacked his face and neck. The other his cock and balls.

After five minutes Morgan turned the intensity up followed by a speed increase five minutes later. Then repeated the sequence twice more until both where on ten.

At the beginning Timmy struggled to stay still but that was impossible. Not knowing his master couldn't hear him he bit his lower lip hard enough to draw blood just as a blow hit the spot.

Periodically he screamed but never begged. Eventually he gave in and passed out. His body kept reacting so it took a while for Morgan to notice. He hit the kill switch and the whips stopped and withdrew. Morgan pushed himself off the table and led by his ranging, leaking hard-on walked over, checked the boy's pulse and took the hood off.

After checking the knifes' sharpness he walked out of the room.

Down the hall Roger waited in a smaller dungeon. The fourteen-year-old rode from the boy-slave club in lower Manhattan to his master's mansion in the limo's trunk and by the time Hercules pulled him out his master was out of sight. A flick of one big black finger and Roger followed the man. His only thoughts were not to fall and embarrass his trainer or his master.

And Timmy was somewhere inside.

Once inside the dungeon Hercules locked him in a wooden stock. Roger's head and wrists were immobilized and Hercules put leg irons on each ankle before disappearing.

Sometime later Hercules returned with the young white man Roger had seen on the monitor in his master's office.

"Slave, this is your brother's trainer."

"Good evening sir."

The man took one step and delivered a hard slap to Roger's face. "Nobody gave you permission to talk boy. You've got a long way to go before you're half the slave your little brother is."

Roger hung his head. Hercules and Dave lowered the stock's crossbar forcing Roger to bend and stick his naked ass out.

"We're going to fuck your worthless boy pussy, but first you've got a new toy to play with.

Roger smiled.

"You're as bad as your baby bro. He just loves being tortured," Dave said.

Roger sobbed and raised his hand.

"You want to know how he is?" Dave asked.

Hercules' big paw stopped Roger's nod and made it a shake. "What you really want to know you piece of white trash is when your torture's starting."

Roger smiled and nodded vigorously.

The two masters laughed.

"Well, when I left him in shackles in our master's dungeon he was fine. But that was a while ago," Dave shrugged, "to answer your other question."

Dave jabbed a button and Captain Morgan's Enhanced Spanking Machine sprang into action. The first blow followed the basic model, right across both cheeks with a paddle. The next four followed the next model with several other paddles set to attack ass and thighs from all angles. At the end of the first five Roger's firm butt shone pink.

The sixth blow was the Captain's special addition. After a pause a board popped up from between Roger's spread legs and whacked his exposed cock and balls with a carved out piece of granite.

"That's your first taste," Hercules said as he adjusted some knobs. "The full session will be at least thirty minutes and you won't be able to guess when or where the next hit will land. But then it won't be long before you don't care."

Roger nodded and his balls got smashed again. To honor his trainer and masters Roger did everything he could not to scream, cry and most of all beg for mercy.

He succeeded for a long time, mainly because that was the last hit on his cock. His ass and thighs went from pink to red to black and blue.

The slave cried and screamed for the last ten minutes but he never begged.

"I'll go first," Hercules said as he placed his cock at Roger's rosebud."

"But you had him once," Dave said.

"Oh, all right. Why does the black guy always get sloppy seconds? Just don't stretch him to badly with that itty-bitty thing of yours."

"You mean this?" Dave said as he rubbed the head of his eight hard inches [20 cm] on Roger's lips. He let the boy lick the head for a couple of minutes before taking Hercules' place.

Without word or warning Dave thrust one hard stroke until his pubic hair was resting on the slave's cheeks. He immediately started a long slow fuck. Each thrust in lifted Roger's bound feet off the platform.

The tool sliding back and forth on his prostate soon had the boy hard and leaking. When Roger realized that he panicked because he didn't have permission to cum. Fortunately his fright killed the erection. Slowly it returned, harder than he'd ever been.

"You have permission to cum boy, as often as your puny body can," Hercules said.

Roger sighed, smiled and shot his first load all over the floor. He never lost his erection and when Dave finally filled his innards he came again.

Hercules used Dave's cum to ease his ten hard thick inches [25 cm] into the moaning slave. No boy, not even the most experienced slut could take the monster tool hard, fast and dry. The real reason Dave always went first.

Like his lover the big black man took his time screwing the slave who was clearly enjoying every second. Didn't even flinch when he dug his coarse pubic hair into the slave's still red-hot cheeks.

Roger didn't believe how big the cock inside him was. Nor how good it made him feel. How hard it made him. How close he was to coming for a third time. All without anyone touching his prick.

As Roger shot the load he screamed, clenched his ass muscles around Hercules's throbbing tool and brought the fully inserted man over the brink.

Meanwhile back in Captain Morgan's dungeon Timmy stirred and sensors beeped in Morgan's office while he watched goings on at his clubs on secure closed-circuit monitors. A VCR attached to each one. A glance revealed Timmy looking around. He zoomed the camera in and saw most of the marks were gone. So only three steps left, and the third scared even him.

The final test to prove or disprove if Timmy was indeed the one. A slave with talents a master might kill to possess.

And he knew at least one who would try.

As the slave owner entered the room he anticipated the first part to be the most pleasurable for both him and the youngster. Neither would get any pleasure from the second, while the boy might not mind he wouldn't like it.

Morgan knew neither would like the third.

Timmy heard the door open and watched his master, the owner of his body and soul, approach. He called upon his waning strength to straighten up in his hanging rack. Every muscle and joint ached and he knew another notch meant serious injury.

But the only thing concerning him as his master undressed was could he please his master in whatever came next.

Once naked Morgan ran his hands over the remarkably smooth skin. How many males had he tortured or seen used? Couldn't remember. He knew of hundreds who'd endured a quarter of what this small boy had and been scared for life. More, including grown and experienced men who'd broken emotionally and physically with less than half.

Without being psychic or asking Morgan knew the only thing on the boy's mind was pleasing his master.

A man who ranked among the greatest trainers and slave owners in the eastern United States slowly reduced the pressure on his newest slave's arms and legs before letting Timmy hit the floor. Instantly the boy got on his hands and knees and looked up like a dog waiting for his master's signal. Morgan scratched behind his ears and Timmy sighed at the small sign of approval.

He followed his owner through the dungeon, not flinching at the scarier pieces of equipment he'd never seen or experienced. When his master stopped Timmy stopped at healing position and sat on his haunches.

"Up you go boy, get on the table and lay flat on your back," the Captain said.

Timmy did it so fast he didn't notice the nails until his ass landed on them. As he lay back he looked around for something that could come down on him and press him onto the nails like the iron maiden but didn't.

Morgan's yanking his heels up and thrusting his cock into Timmy's rosebud refocused the boy's attention. "Son, there are two more tests after this one. I know we could go directly to the last but I don't think either one of us wants to skip this one."

Timmy felt the Captain continue pressing through his sphincter and smiled as he ignored the nails digging into and dragging through his back. Sighed when he felt his master's pubic hair rub against his tenderized butt. Morgan slowly stroked and watched the boy's blood drip between the nails. As he listened to skin tear he felt tears on his cheek and wondered what was happening to him. He'd never felt this way about a slave. Never called one 'son' even to make a badly injured slave feel better.

He picked up the pace, torn between wanting to make it last and make the worthless piece of trash suffer and getting it over quickly and let the special boy he was making love to off the bed of nails quickly.

Morgan pounded the slave's ass, faster and harder. He felt his cock grow and throb as the boy screamed in lust and pain. The master looked into the slave's eyes and saw love, lust, pain and trust. He reached over and caressed the boy's face and filled his ass with his seed.

"Did I pass the test Master?" Timmy said.

"Yes my boy, you know you passed it. Now can you get up or do you need help?"

Timmy gritted his teeth and pushed himself off the bed of nails. Ignoring the further ripping of skin and flow of blood. He knelt in front of his master.

"Stand and walk behind me slave. You've earned the right to be a boy-slave not a dog."

A smile bigger and prouder than any that ever crossed Timmy's face appeared as he stood up straight. The pain that permeated from his neck to ravaged asshole disappeared.

When they reached the regular rack Timmy jumped up and got into position. "Is this the second test?"

"This is where it's going to take place," Morgan said as he attached to the restraints. "You're going to spend the night stretched tighter than you've ever been and with a kicker attached. In the morning there'll be a surprise and the final test."

Timmy nodded and waited as the Captain pushed the button that started stretching the young slave. He turned a knob so the sensors would stop the machine three notches past normal. Further to six.

When the machine stopped moving Timmy was completely off the table. Morgan checked the restraints and turned away.

When he returned he held a large sharp hunting knife in his left hand. Wordlessly he cut the boy deeply above each breast, through and below the rib cage.

The look in the boy's eyes was puzzlement.

"Timmy, listen to me boy."

"Yes Master."

"In the morning I will explain everything to you. Just know if things go like I expect it will only prove that you are one special boy. I know you don't understand now but you have to trust me."

"I do my Master."

Captain Morgan kissed Timmy's forehead and walked out.

After he regained his composure Morgan walked down the hall and into the second dungeon. Hercules and Dave were whipping Roger who was now hanging from the rafters. Feet nowhere near the ground.

"Let him down and release him," Morgan said softly and was instantly obeyed.

Morgan pointed to his feet and Roger crawled over and kissed the foot.

"Boy, if things go well tonight we are one test away from a miracle. And you are going to be part of that miracle. Now, Hercules is going to lock you in here for the night unchained. Don't do anything stupid and get a good night's sleep."

"Sir?" Hercules said.

"Do as I say. We are so close, so damn close that it scares me. This one's going to go through enough in the morning so let him have a good nights sleep."

Morgan turned and walked out the door.

Dave entered the Captain's dungeon the next morning carrying a dog dish full of food and two bottles of Gatorade. After placing Timmy's first meal in almost a day on the floor he walked over to the rack.

Once again he shook his head in amazement, there wasn't a mark on the boy, not a sign of a scar. Shock when he realized the settings. Stretched out as far as if not further than the most experienced slaves the twelve-year-old was sleeping without an inch of his body touching the table. Dave reached out and shook the boy's shoulder.

Timmy came wide awake, looked around and saw his trainer.

"Sir."

"It's morning and I've brought you something to eat. I've got to let you down slowly though, too fast and I will injure you."

Timmy nodded and sighed as the first pressure came off his shoulders, hips and knees. He felt exhausted despite knowing he'd slept.

"Sir, am I healed?"

"Haven't seen your back but not a mark on your chest from where our master cut you. You're an amazing boy."

"Thank you Sir. Master hinted at something last night. Another test, something special. Do you know what he was talking about?"

"It's not my place to say anything. He is as much my master as yours. Nor is it our place to expect him to say anything before he is ready," the trainer said.

"I understand Sir," Timmy said and moaned as his rear finally touched the table. Ten minutes later the trainer helped the slave boy off the rack and led him over to the food. It took twenty for the boy to carefully eat and drink everything so he wouldn't throw up like Egor had.

"May I use the bathroom Sir?"

Dave realized the expected mess hadn't been on the rack. Somehow, no forget somehow he realized. This boy was special. He motioned Timmy to stand and led him to a small bathroom in the corner and let him have some rare privacy.

When Timmy emerged Dave led him to the center of the room where the hanging rack had been. Almost immediately Captain Morgan entered followed by Roger in shackles and then Hercules. Both boys successfully fought the urge to run to the other. Just glad to see each other was all right.

Morgan walked over to Timmy and examined the boy. "If I hadn't done it myself, if I hadn't seen the blood and cuts with my own eyes."

"How are you boy? Strength ok?" Morgan asked.

"Fine Master," Timmy said.

"Is that the truth? You had a hard night."

"Yes Sir."

"Sir, when I arrived to feed the slave per your instructions he was sleeping soundly," Dave said.

Morgan nodded and walked over to the table. He looked at the bloody knife from the night before and picked up its twin. Slowly he walked over to Roger then quickly slashed his chest before stabbing him in the stomach.

Roger screamed as blood poured from him. When Morgan nodded Hercules released his grip and the boy fell to the ground writhing in pain.

"Why Master?" Timmy said.

"This is your final test. Heal your brother."

Timmy walked over and knelt next to Roger. "You promised never to tell."

"I swear I didn't. I told our master about the accident and your recovery, but that's it. I'm sorry Timmy. But I need you to do it again."

"It's ok," Timmy said and sighed, laying Roger on the floor.

Timmy put one hand on the stomach wound and the other over his own heart then closed his eyes. While Timmy and the three men remained silent Roger continued to moan and writhe in pain. Pain which appeared to worsen rather than vanish.

"The blood's stopped," Hercules gasped and Morgan slapped him without turning an inch. But the big black man was right.

Several minutes later Timmy moved the hand from the stab wound, no from where the stab wound had been for no mark remained. He slowly moved his hand over the deep chest slashes. With the first touch the blood stopped, the second and third healed them. The fourth and final removed all marks. Timmy continued in silence removing the other marks from Roger's face and body. His last step was to take hold of each shackle and gently pry it open, freeing his big brother. Roger took Timmy in his arms and they both cried. Morgan knelt besides the boys, put an arm around each and brought them close to him. "Master, I know it is not my place to ask but you said that if I passed the tests you would tell me what this is all about."

"Normally I'd string you back up and have Hercules and Dave spend the morning whipping you for that, but you've earned it and more than that you're entitled. It's just that I've waited over forty years to meet you and there are older masters who are still waiting to meet someone like you. Hercules, bring sodas for all of us, and when you return I'll begin. Dave, bring Egor."

"Timmy, Roger," Morgan began as soon as they were alone, "when I'm finished you have the choice to remain with me as slaves or free men or to leave my home and return to your parents or wherever you choose. But I will be honest, whether as slaves or free men you will be better off and safer under my care. And no questions or interruptions until I'm finish. Ok?" Timmy turned to his older brother. "We will listen master and then make our decision together. Can I ask one question while we're waiting?" Roger said. "Yes."

"This means that our days as whores are over?"

Morgan nodded as the doors reopened and Hercules entered through one and Dave and Egor through the other. Timmy saw Egor's hands were handcuffed behind his back. He brought his own wrists together, then apart. Morgan nodded and Dave removed them. Hercules handed out cans of soda and joined the others on the floor where he could instantly lunge between Morgan and anybody else. Though he knew that that precaution was unnecessary. Morgan finished one can and took a second from Hercules.

"I've stalled as long as I can, it's now time to explain. As you can well imagine I'm not the only slave master in the world, nor the only one specializing in boys. There are two others in Manhattan alone. This is an old and proud tradition. Roger, your trainer is the tenth in his family to be a master and he's training his adopted son to be the eleventh. In parts of the world there are groups hundreds of years old.

"We are all connected in one way or another. We trade slaves and if another's customer arrives at my door with the proper sign I welcome him right away.

"As is normal with a community if you will that has lasted so long various traditions and legends arise. One tradition is to release our slaves on their eighteenth birthday, or if they choose make other arrangements for them. One of the legends is that of the chosen one. A very special slave."

Timmy squirmed as the Captain looked at him. Timmy took a sip of his soda and moved closer to Roger, taking his older brother's hand.

"The boy is said to appear every generation or every century depending on which version. The first criterion is that he's young and is brought into the world of bondage and torture suddenly and quickly. Roger took care of that last Friday. That's right, it hasn't even been a week yet.

"The second is the boy is a natural slave. Not just submissive but willingly so. He knows that slavery and being bound and tortured is his place in the world and wants to live in our world. You've certainly proved that Timmy."

Timmy smiled and nodded.

"Actually in many ways you met those qualifications too Roger. Except you also like to be in charge. Even now you're looking after your little brother. Even though you were willing to sell him to me and walk away."

The smile on Roger's face vanished, replaced by sobbing. Timmy took his brother's face in his hands and kissed him on the lips. "Brother, you told me why you did everything and it's come true. I'm far better off than staying with father. If he'd ever realized my healing abilities he'd have sold me in other ways. Don't cry, don't feel bad." Timmy kissed him again.

"And that is the third sign. This innocent masochist can endure extreme physical abuse and then heal himself. No matter what is done to him, internal and external injuries heal almost instantly. Leaving no physical or emotional scars. Your trainer can permanently scar a grown man with one flick of a bullwhip and yet you show no sign of forty-five minutes of hard abuse with the whip less than a day ago. And you shot your load at the end of it. You fell asleep on the rack when most men would have screamed the night away.

"And the final test is healing someone else."

Egor crawled over to Morgan. "Slave 2 can heal the scar on my back?"

"May I Master?" Timmy said.

"It's an old scar slave 2, from when I was first taken to the orphanage. They burned their brand into me."

Morgan nodded and Timmy motioned Egor over. He examined his friends back, traced the brand and some other old marks. He put one hand on the brand and the other on his own heart. Minutes later Egor started crying and Roger cradled the Russian's head. Ten, fifteen minutes later Egor's breathing returned to normal and he sat up. He reached around and found smooth skin where the brand had been. "It's a miracle." He moved over to the Captain. "See Master, my old owner's mark is gone. I belong only to you now."

"Well done Timmy, you are truly the chosen one," Morgan said.

"This feels so weird. A week ago I knew I was gay with some special healing powers Roger and I never ever talked about. Now to find my true place in life and that I was predicted in a legend. Too much," Timmy said.

"Too cool," Roger said.

Morgan looked at the three boys and knew they'd never leave his care. He'd known there was something special about them from the first time he'd met each one. While he cared for all the slaves in his care these were special. Timmy leaned over and whispered in his big brother's ear for a minute. When he was done Roger closed his eyes for a moment then nodded. "We will stay as slaves for that is what we are meant to be Master. There is no doubt in Timmy or my mind and heart that this is where we are loved and meant to be."

"I'm glad. But there is something more you want to know." The brothers nodded. "You will live here and be educated and continue your training as slaves. That includes you Egor. Timmy, when I need you to heal a slave I will either bring him here or bring you to him. But that will only be for serious injuries, most customers like their slaves to look experienced. I have to reveal your existence to fellow masters and some may ask to test you for themselves."

Timmy nodded, "I understand and will comply my Master."

Morgan smiled back, "but boy, that's the rub, that's the rub."

The End? To be continued?