It Doesn’t Rain in Hell

Jack Scribe

Go no further if “X” BDSM fantasies offend you.

PROLOGUE

The country was mad. Fences, fines, and amnesty – all sides voiced emotional backlash of their dissatisfaction. As each political party waffled in their attempts to pander to the greatest number of constituents, a bill to address immigration concerns floundered. Even a coalition of the pasty, bloated Senator from Massachusetts and the old warrior from Arizona could not save the day. Finally, lame duck President Dubya, with his wilted whiz kids and the fading 110th willowy Congress, forged a hardnosed policy that fiercely monitored the borders and deported all illegal aliens.

Just as prophesized, the USA began to run out of unskilled labor to staff businesses, harvest agriculture and care for residences. The supply of workers to perform tasks that citizens didn’t want to touch simply dried up. At the same time, the prison system became increasingly overburdened with inmates who had been sentenced for minor crimes and offenses.

The 2012 smarmy election fight between a beleaguered President Hillary Rodham* and the former governor of Florida was a turning point in the United States’ position on civil rights and personal freedoms. Jeb - the Bush dynasty’s last hope – won the election on a platform that included developing a national indentured service system to create an adequate workforce. The legislation was also designed to ease the over-population of the federal and state prisons by permitting less-dangerous criminals to be transferred into an indentured service system. Citizens and elected officials jumped at the chance to ‘kill two birds with one stone.’

What congress and the administration didn’t anticipate was the creation of a secret slave trade industry. It served a small, BDSM sub-culture of dominant masters who thrived on nonconsensual subservient relationships.

Through a ‘good old boy’ network of corrupt judges and authorities, young, virile men who could be groomed to become sex slaves were quietly filtered through the legal system from over-crowded prisons and into the lucrative BDSM slave trade industries. This was usually accomplished by matching ideal prisoner candidates to masters with a sizable bank balance, but a black market began to flourish on the side. Within a year of the enactment of the national indenture system, young men – and a few women – began to disappear from schools, roadside stops, vacation destinations and nightclubs.

BOBBY

After completing a particularly strenuous work assignment, Bobby Reynolds was encouraged by his boss to take a month’s vacation before he burned out by immediately jumping into another project. Initially, Bobby wasn’t too thrilled about the idea. However, the more he thought about taking his first vacation in three years, the more Bobby warmed up to the idea.

He called his younger brother, Scott, and told him of his vacation plans of a solo-driving trip from home in Chicago to Florida and a then cruise out of Miami. Scott called back a day later and offered to check the house regularly, collect the mail and water the plants. Bobby thought this gesture was a bit odd because they had not been particularly close for years. He had long ago concluded that Scott resented his ‘older brother’ dominance when they were kids. Bobby also suspected that Scott was envious of the material wealth and career success that he had attained.

~~~~~

Bobby – an alpha male from very early age – had always been the one to suggest what the two brothers would do to amuse themselves while the ‘rents’ were busy with their adult lives. From the time Bobby was six, and Scott was two, Scott followed a path dictated by his older sibling. Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds never questioned Scott’s compliance to Bobby’s leadership and were relieved that the end result was two well-behaved boys.

The older brother was always considerate of the younger…as long as the younger one followed instructions. Initially, this was limited to playtime, household chores and personal hygiene. Later, when Scott started bringing homework from school, Bobby insisted on following a study regimen. Another pattern was established: Scott would often sleep with Bobby when both had finished their assignments. The brothers loved one another and each felt comfortable in their unspoken roles.

When Bobby reached 13, his prepubescent growth took the brothers’ relationship to a new level. At first, Scott was merely curious about the changes that were taking place with Bobby’s body. Being together without much clothing in the evening and intimate sleepovers in Bobby’s room gave Scott the opportunity to compare the marked differences between the two.

Both were used to being in the bathroom at the same time and neither bothered to knock before walking in. But the evening that Scott opened the door and discovered Bobby aggressively ‘taking care of business’ with his teen erection was the turning point to an expanded relationship. Bobby abruptly told his brother to come in, and lock the door – even though their parents were out.

“I…I don’t know, Bobby. Are you sure?”

“Yeah. This isn’t exactly how I thought we’d be talking about sex someday but ya might as well know what’s going on. It’ll be happening to you when you’re my age.”

“Um…okay.” Scott stepped completely into the bathroom and secured the door’s dead bolt as directed.

“You might as well strip down so you can see the differences between us.”

Scott nervously smiled and got out of his clothes. By the time he was buck-naked, his little peter was standing at attention.

“Go, bro,” Bobby said with a chuckle, in an attempt to ease the tension somewhat over of what his brother was about to see. “That pecker of yours will double in size by the time you start spurting. And I’ve still probably got a couple of inches to go.”

“Spurting?” Scott asked with a scowl on his face.

As he had always done, Bobby patiently explained what was happening to his body and how everything worked. When he asked Scott if he’d like to see the results of Bobby’s maturing functions in action, the younger brother eagerly nodded his head.

And so the brotherly friendship and mentoring deepened. Bobby shared all his experiences of a teen boy’s evolution into a young man. Over the next couple of years, their sexual exploration escalated from parallel masturbation, to touching each other, and to Scott learning how to pleasure Bobby orally. However, Bobby would never repay those favors.

After Bobby reached 16, he decided that it wasn’t cool for his 12 year-old brother to service him. One night, he told Scott it was time to check things out with his friends if he wanted any further intimate male contact. Scott hugged his brother, tearfully pleading with Bobby to change his mind. He admitted that he was gay and loved, really loved, Bobby.

“Bullshit. It’s time to move on,” Bobby said as he pulled loose – physically and emotionally. “Find one of your buddies to suck off.”

Scott was shocked and paralyzed with this rejection. The two brothers fell into a compartmentalized co-existence. The one time Scott asked a question concerning sex, Bobby abruptly told Scott to ‘fuck off’ and that their earlier intimacies were never to be mentioned.

A change from this arms-length relationship occurred one night during the Christmas break. Bobby was then a college freshman and Scott was a first year of high school student. Bobby came home from a party a little drunk and literally ran into Scott in the second floor hallway outside their bedrooms. Scott helped Bobby into the bedroom and watched while Bobby undressed.

“Hey, stud,” Bobby said, when he realized that Scott was leering at him and had obviously gotten hard in the process. “Looks like those two inches have grown a little. You wanna do something…like old times?” he asked with a slight slur.

“I thought you’d decided we were too old to mess around,” Scott replied. “You said it was too gay for you.”

“Bro, you’re all grown up and I’m more than a little curious to see how everything turned out. Plus, I think it’s time for your next lesson.”

“Lesson? Whaduya mean?”

“You’re gay, right?”

“Yeah…so what?” Scott said a little defensively.

“Have you ever taken a guy…inside you?” Bobby was now completely nude and sported a straining erection. “You know, gotten fucked?”

“It’s never gone that far.”

“Well, my man, tonight’s your opportunity to go to the next level. And who else better to teach you than your big brother.”

“Big in several ways. That thing of yours could really hurt.”

“Don’t worry ’bout that. I got lube and know how to loosen you up. My roomie at school is gay and showed me how to do it. Get undressed while I get the rubbers and lube.”

Scott smiled as he took off his clothes. That night, and for several nights thereafter, Bobby took care of his younger brother’s here-to-for unknown cravings. But, again, it became a selfish, one-way street and merely a way for Bobby to ‘get off’. When Bobby was ready to return to college in the new year, he told Scott that this would no longer occur between them. Bobby was coolly cordial before he drove away and had no idea of the broken heart that he was leaving behind.

~~~~~

Once Bobby determined exactly when he would leave on vacation and confirmed his driving route, Scott asked him for one favor. It seemed that one of his oldest and best friends lived in a small town called Perry, South of Macon, Georgia. Scott said that it would be very much appreciated if Bobby would make a special effort to hook up with the friend and say ‘hi’. Bobby reluctantly agreed and got the name and a local Perry telephone number to call when he was close to the area.

Bobby gave Scott his house keys and drove away the next morning. He never made it beyond Georgia.

BOBBY’S DILEMMA

Bobby called Scott’s friend when he crossed the Georgia border. It had been steadily raining for the past two hours and he drove very cautiously on the Interstate. They arranged to meet south of Macon at the Perry I-75 rest stop around 10:00 p.m. The friend said that the town of Perry was only five miles beyond the rest stop and that he would be honored to have Bobby as his houseguest for the evening. Bobby was told to be on the lookout for a Ford Focus.

He arrived just a little after 10:00 p.m. and noted that there were just a few trucks parked with their running lights on. The rain was still coming down, albeit in lighter doses, and Bobby figured that the drivers were sleeping until the weather cleared. Not seeing the Ford, he decided to go into the men’s room and relieve himself. Bobby made a dash from the car and hopped around several puddles of water before he entered the deserted restroom.

As he shook the final drops of dew in the urinal, he turned just in time to see four men in ski masks storm into the room. He barely had time to tuck himself in and zip his fly before being grabbed, blindfolded and tied up by the unwelcome strangers. Bobby struggled but the attack was too swift for the 31-year-old victim. He yelled a disjointed stream of obscenities, pleas for help and threats of retribution before someone secured duct tape over his mouth.

He was roughly thrown into the back of an open-bed truck and secured by metal cuffs around his wrists and ankles. Bobby could sense that there were two men with him in the back of the truck and assumed the others were in the cab. The ride, over a series of different road surfaces – from concrete to gravel to rutted dirt – probably took no more than a half-hour. To Bobby, it seemed like hours…a hellish dream. During the ride, the temperature dropped noticeably and the smell became a blend of unspoiled nature and burning wood. Besides the tires on the road, there were no sounds other than the occasional branch of a tree brushing against the truck and faint country music coming from the radio in the cab.

The truck came to a stop, the marauder guards roughly pushed him off the back of the tailgate and he landed on the ground with a thud. Bobby was immediately stripped of his modesty along with the blindfold. He blinked and saw that this was some sort of encampment in the mountainous wilderness of Georgia. The only comforting sight was his Mercedes that was parked off to the side. He attempted to struggle but the whips and cattle prods wielded by his guards were too much. He quickly decided that he had to ‘go with the flow’ in order to survive.

The sight of the shanty-like barn, cabin and several more ‘hill country’ men of all ages and shapes sent shivers through his naked body. At this point, his captors wore no masks and made contemptuous remarks about him from time to time. He was sure, like Ned Beatty’s character in the vintage movie, ‘Deliverance’, that he would soon be squealing like a pig…just for openers.

‘Go with the flow’ meant rough anal play by most in the encampment. He tried to talk and reason with them, but each time Bobby was slapped into silence. Finally, a man who seemed to be the leader whacked Bobby really good and told him not to say another word unless ordered to by one of his friends. This went against the grain of his alpha male bearing, but Bobby finally clued in to keep silent. Later, he was forced to orally pleasure the remainder of the mangy, redneck, group. And that was just the first night. In retrospect, Bobby found it curious that the rain had stopped almost immediately upon arrival at the camp and that the temperature around the perpetually burning campfire was quite warm. In fact, it was hot as hell – especially after the cold of the trip to the camp.

On the second day, after being completely shaved, except for his eyebrows, Bobby was systematically instructed to behave with full subservience to each of his ‘masters’. He learned to spend much of his day on his knees, humiliatingly groveling for the instructor’s approval. Anal stretching, endless golden showers and forced male sex of every form was standard. Frequent but tiny feedings consisted of nutritional food pellets and water out of dog bowls. Just as he became accustomed to crawling around on his knees, Bobby also became accustomed to avoiding spillage. Punishment was swift.

The compound consisted of the large main cabin that housed approximately 10 men, a barn and a heavily fenced shack that housed the slaves – over time Bobby visually counted six other victims. He soon found out that the barn contained a treasure trove of sadistic toys and training equipment for the kidnapped slaves to experience. Over his extended stay, Bobby painfully sampled several items in the ‘toy’ inventory.

In addition, there was a crude physical fitness course that he was forced to complete each morning before the Georgia sun took over for the day. It occurred to Bobby that someone in the Marine Corps must have designed this layout because going through it worked almost every group of his body muscles. Before returning to the kennel, he was routinely taken to a latrine to empty himself. The last ritual was to be tossed in a nearby creek to get cleaned. It seemed that these captors were intent on increasing his physical endurance and body tone as much as broadening his sexual experience with males. Bobby could feel the rejuvenation of taut muscles he had not exercised since college. ‘What a fucking way to get my six-pack back,’ he thought.

Bobby was pretty sure the daily physical regimen and sexual abuse was also designed to mentally wear him down. He decided to play the game and not succumb. Rather than resist the inescapable sexual assaults, even on a mental level, he gradually created a convincing subservient image. Through ‘hands on’ training and repetition, he learned the ropes of proper slave obedience. Throughout it all, his primary concern, though, was possible STDs from some of the cretins who shoved their cocks up his ass.

The most startling revelation was that realizing he rather enjoyed the sexual adventures with other males. Although this was a rough, painful learning experience, Bobby came to accept his sexual orientation. Late at night in his cage, he inventoried his life and the series of failed romances with women. Counter-balancing this discovery was the realization that he thrilled in being the leader when it came to weekend sports games in the park, working out with the guys at the gym and organizing stag outings. Bobby was happiest when surrounded by men, looking to him for direction.

Gradually, even while he accepted his capture and personal dilemma, he hoped that an opportunity might present itself to escape. Bobby decided not to reject dominance and submission as a life style, so he had to figure out how to reverse roles and become a master.

At night, he fondly remembered the early sexual experiences with his brother and wondered if Scott still felt the same way. He now regretted that he had discouraged Scott and cut off their intimacies. ‘If I had figured things out years ago,’ he thought, ‘my life would be different.’ Bobby didn’t yet appreciate just how ‘different’.

Bobby’s MIT graduate school education had honed his mental agility in developing and achieving life goals. ‘To hell with this short-term shit. I can take it.’ He was determined to bite the bullet and play a convincing role until the proper moment arrived: ‘Carpe Diem – when the time is right’ was his inner battle cry. Bobby developed a reverse mind-fuck strategy by sinking into the part of a subservient slave trainee, showing just enough fight to make his captors believe he was being broken.

Within a few weeks, Bobby’s Mercedes vanished and his other possessions had been distributed amongst his captors. The only thing that didn’t seem to be divvied up was his cell phone. Much later, Bobby found out that Scott was surprised and a little angry to learn that the head of the camp, Buck, had scrolled through Bobby’s cell phone address book one evening to find his brother’s home number. Buck, on an impulse, decided to call Scott to let him know that Bobby was successfully being trained as instructed and had ‘learned’ many sex slave things for his new master’s pleasure.

As far as Buck was aware, Bobby’s kidnapping was part of a very involved and extensive fantasy the two brothers had worked out. Scott said that having Bobby come back into his life as a slave was a fantasy they both shared. Scott insisted that nothing be mentioned about his involvement in the kidnapping – it would spoil the ultimate fantasy – and then requested that he speak to Bobby. Buck agreed and walked out to the compound. While he waited for Buck to get to Bobby, Scott reviewed what information he had. Pictures of Bobby had been taken over the past week that showed him in the phases of being trained. Images of Bobby’s ‘sessions’ had been sent to Scott’s computer via the cell phone. Much later, back in Chicago, Bobby found the pictures on his computer – a computer that Scott had confiscated along with everything else.

Out of the corner of his eye, Bobby noticed ‘asshole Buck’ walking towards him with a familiar cell phone in his hand. ‘Is that my phone?’ he wondered.

“Your brother wants to talk to you,” Buck said. He held the cell phone to the slave’s ear.

“Scott, get your ass down here and free me from this mess,” Bobby yelled into the phone, instantly revealing that he wasn’t nearly as submissive as he’d been pretending.

~~~ “Whoa, big brother. Seems like I’m in the driver’s seat. You forget about the sneering looks you gave my gay friends or your snide comments about my sexuality? Or how you screwed me and then left me hanging?”

“Aw, shit. I was only joking, bro,” Bobby replied. He felt worried that the conversation wasn’t going well. He knew that Scott was his only chance at salvation and needed to play him in order to get free. “I love you, an’ I really want us to be closer. Whatever you think I’ve done, I wanna make it up to you.”

~~~ “Your jokes weren’t funny, ‘bro’. However, I’m going to take care of you…but on my own terms. I’ll get you back to Chicago soon enough. As you can tell, they contacted me and I’m going to arrange to spring you. Give me your P.I.N. number at the bank so I can get the funds. I don’t have the kind of money they’re askin’.”

“If it’ll get me out of here, ya got it.” Bobby proceeded to give him the P.I.N and the access codes to his home computer.

~~~ “Thanks, brother. Now, mind these guys and learn something, ’cause you are goin’ to make it all up to me.” The phone went dead and Buck pulled it back from Bobby’s head.

Bobby was completely puzzled at the last statement. ‘Something’s off,’ he thought. ‘Scott seems to be dealing from the bottom of the deck.’

Within 24 hours, Scott had completed the money transfer to an overseas account for the abduction and training, and he gave Buck a Chicago suburban address where brother Bobby was to be delivered. What Bobby didn’t realize until later was that Scott was a master, active in the leather world, and had arranged Bobby’s abduction solely with the intent of making him Scott’s personal sex slave.

~~~~~~~

Bobby had been confused when Buck told him that he was being taken to a special facility near Chicago so that training could continue. He had fully expected to be released, per Scott’s ambiguous promise. ‘Oh, fuck,’ he thought as he tugged on his leather collar, ‘this is definitely something I hadn’t anticipated.’

“Sir, may I speak, Sir?” Bobby urgently asked while bowed in the slave rest position. He knew he was out of line by speaking at all and expected to feel the full force of a boot slam into his body. However, it never came.

“Slave, normally I’d beat the crap out of you for speaking. But since you are about to leave our hospitality, I won’t. You may ask one question,” Buck replied.

“Um, Sir. If my brother has bought my freedom, why am I still being treated as a slave?”

“Because, boy, you are now a sex slave and not a free man, however you were acquired. He bought you from me…but freedom isn’t part of the deal. What your new owner has in store for you is not my concern. I’m only responsible for getting you to a town near Chicago for advanced training. You are being trained so that your body will provide pleasure for a master and all those who will use you for their enjoyment. The ultimate fantasy, I suppose.”

“But…”

“Enough, slave.” Buck put his foot on Bobby’s kneeling body and roughly pushed him aside before walking away.

‘Keep your cool,’ Bobby resolved, ‘I will prevail in the end.’ He was confused by the turn of events and this new information. ‘What’s this “fantasy” bullshit all about?’

Sometime in the middle of the night, Bobby was given an injection. His head was hooded and chains secured him in the back of some sort of van. That was all he noticed before blacking out.

‘Where am I?’ Bobby wondered, groggily. He was only half awake and somewhat insensible. It slowly dawned on him that they were moving at high speed on a highway. ‘Guess I was probably drugged for the trip back north.’ As they swayed on the road, he could feel the discomfort of a gigantic butt plug up his well-stretched chute. Bobby was also aware that he was covered with some sort of canvas tarp, presumably to shield his nude, shackled body and hood-shrouded head from any unwanted observers.

The hood covering his head had only two holes: one for his nostrils and one for his mouth. He was thankful that he had a hole for breathing. Somewhat more uncomfortable was the catheter that had been inserted in his urethra.

The overheard snippets of conversation between the two men in the front seat, as he drifted in and out of consciousness, stunned Bobby. One man mentioned the “slave’s brother” who was going to be his master in Chicago. Later, Bobby picked up on another statement that startled him. The driver said, “I don’t ever want to piss off my brother to the point that he takes care of me the way the slave in the back was set up by his brother.”

‘So there it is,’ Bobby thought, as he lay on his side in the back of the vehicle, ‘fucking Scott conned me and I’m supposed to be his slave? What about our parents…my friends…the guys at work. How is that little ingrate going to pull this off,’ he wondered as he drifted back into his drugged stupor. ‘Oh, shit,’ he remembered, ‘I trusted him with my bank account and computer.’

Much later, finally awake, he faintly heard the car radio and an announcer reporting Chicago’s rainy weather forecast and felt a little better about being near his home base. Off in the distance, he could pick out the crackling sounds of lightning. ‘Must be a storm front coming in from Iowa,’ he considered.

Bobby felt them stop, leaving the engine to idle quietly, heard an electronic dialogue exchange from a speaker box and decided the other noise was the opening of a gate. He listened as the driver told his companion that their delivery was almost complete. They drove up a steep incline and came to a halt. The front doors opened and the vehicle rocked as the two men got out. There was a crunch of footsteps on gravel before the rear cargo door next to his canvas-covered body was unlocked. Bobby felt the tarp removed from his body, the chains released and the catheter quickly removed.

“Git ’im out, fast” commanded one man. ‘It’s starting to rain.” Bobby was grabbed, roughly righted and rotated around so that his cuffed legs dangled out of the vehicle. “Slide out, now.” He slowly scooted forward until his feet touched the gravel.

“On your cock suckin’ knees, slave,” he was told by the other man.

“Sir, it’s gravel, wet and I can’t see,” Bobby mumbled as the raindrops pelted his bare torso.

“Shut the fuck up. You’re nothing but an insignificant piece of shit and were trained to never speak unless you are ordered to. Those rules apply, always.” The handler roughly grabbed Bobby by his neck collar and pulled him down to the sharp, gravel surface.

Once painfully on his knees, Bobby was about to assume the learned slave position. However, he was grabbed by the head and heard a zipper releasing from the back. Immediately the hood was ripped off. He started blinking rapidly while he attempted to compensate for his sight being returned. It was evening and he saw that he was at the rear of a large house with a large awning-covered patio. The entire area was bathed in artificial lighting. Instead of looking around after the brief glance, Bobby focused on two pairs of legs in front of him. As he moved into the slave position, he noticed that one of the men was in shorts and wore construction boots, while the second man was naked except for a thong. Bobby raised his butt to the heavens and moved his arms forward as he had been trained.

“Well, ‘it’ has been trained in the basics, I see,” said a strange, deep voice. “Although he does seem to be a bit slow at them.”

“Yes, Sir, Master Trey. The boy is ready for your further instruction and detailing. Here are the documents and the slave’s progress reports. If you’ll sign the transfer sheet, me and my friend will be gittin’ back. We’ve got another delivery in two days.”

“Business must be good, but, of course, this is a special case,” Master Trey replied with a hearty laugh. “I appreciate your promptness. I’ll assume transfer of the property so you can return right away. I and my senior training slave are anxious to groom ‘it’ for it’s new master, Scott.”

Bobby mentally processed this official confirmation against what he had heard earlier during the trip. Aside from being in the Chicago ’burbs as expected, it seemed like he was being further trained to serve his brother in a master/slave relationship. ‘What the fuck,’ he thought, ‘I was aware that Scott was into guys and had gay friends. But a master? Jeez, how little I really know about him.’ This new information set off a brainstorm of new ideas in his quest for escape.

“Slave, welcome to your new, temporary home. Training slave Marcus and I will look after you and get you ready for your new life,” Master Trey said. “Follow Marcus to the door. Be very careful when we go down the basement stairs. We don’t want to damage Master Scott’s property. Marcus, take the boy down to his quarters.”

“Yes, Sir,” said the second, softer voice.

Bobby figured out that this voice must be the training slave, Marcus. Upon reflection, he appreciated that first view of the amply packed thong and strong legs. ‘Wonder what the rest of him looks like?’

“I’ll be down in a little while. Get him douched, showered and shaved in the meantime.”

“Yes, Sir. I’ll take care of the new slave. Move,” Marcus barked. He walked to the door and opened it for Bobby to crawl through.

While Bobby was negotiating the best route down the stairs, he heard van doors slam and the engine starting. ‘Well, there’s two assholes I’m not going to miss,’ he thought. ‘Sadly, it seems I’ve acquired two more already. Master Scott’s property, indeed.’ With a struggle and a few wobbles, Bobby arrived on the cold basement concrete floor with no scrapes.

“Well done, slave. The fantasy continues, eh? Let’s go over to the wet area and get you groomed for my master. Oh, you have permission to speak to me now. This is considered ‘free time’ and I’m sure you have many questions. Ask them wisely because this is probably the last time for a while that you’ll be allowed to speak.” Marcus led Bobby to a large tiled area that included a separate small locker area and a walk-in multi-head shower room with a commode.

“I do have many questions, Sir,” Bobby said slowly and in a low voice after they had arrived in the locker area. In the adjoining shower room he saw a couple of hoses with smooth plastic, phallic-shaped attachments at the end in addition to the normal showerheads.

“One question at a time. By the way, you may have heard that my name is Marcus and I’m the training slave for my master. The reason I’m referred to by name is that I am a free man who is voluntarily my master’s slave. He took me in at a real low point in my life and I’ve been with him for several years.”

“Master Trey?”

“Yes. You’re in his training facility here in Hinsdale. It’s all very quiet and secluded. Most of the neighbors haven’t the foggiest idea what goes on here. They think my master is a doctor who retired early. Um, get up on your knees.” Marcus bent down and inspected Bobby’s body. There were several ‘hmm’s and ahh’s’ as the training slave’s hands moved over every square inch of Bobby’s body.

“Training facility? I realize I’m here for further instruction. That’s all I know. But I still don’t know why I’m in this mess overall, and how Scott is involved. With all due respect, I know nothing about any fantasy.” Bobby decided to play the game for a while and only bring up basic information he’d officially heard. He felt himself getting hard as Marcus’s hands gently rubbed his penis and nut sac. “What is this fantasy you’ve mentioned, Sir?”

“Ha. Scott said you’d deny any knowledge of a fantasy. I think it’s an odd ordeal to put yourself through but…different strokes. The master is very respected in the master-slave community for his results in training slaves and free ‘sub’ men who wish to please their masters. Master’s jeweler will be installing quality items that Master Scott has requested for you. I’ve been told to play along with this fantasy.”

“Play along with this fantasy? What is this fantasy supposed to be? And you know my brother?” Bobby started feeling comfortable talking to Marcus although the more he found out the more nervous he became about the whole situation. He estimated that the training slave was probably five or six years younger than himself. He also observed that Marcus only wore small nipple rings and probably a PA, from the outline behind the thong. The vision of a tanned, well-hung, young man was very erotic to Bobby. ‘What a mind-blowing thing to find out about myself,’ he thought. ‘31 and discovering I’m gay as a goose.’

“First, slave, understand that you will no longer refer to him as your brother in front of anyone, ever. How you address each other in the privacy of his home will be his decision. He is your master and you are his slave, and will do only his bidding in this fantasy. To answer your question, yes, I know him...intimately. Master Scott’s part of a group of men, including Master Trey, who enjoy sharing their slaves to satisfy a variety of sexual appetites. But you’ll learn more about that later.”

“So, um, my bro…Master Scott is really into this stuff?” Bobby asked as he thought about the implications of the term ‘sharing’. ‘Might as well see all the cards I can,’ he plotted. ‘This game is my life and freedom. I have no intention of losing it, no matter how stacked the odds.’

“This ‘stuff’, as you put it, is now your life. Although Master Scott’s only 27 or so, he’s totally comfortable in his chosen role. He started as a sub and asked to be trained to be a master. From the conversations he’s had with Master Trey, I know he feels very strongly about the way you dominated him sexually when you were both boys. I guess that is what this fantasy of yours is all about. Turnabout, letting him become master to you and all that goes along with such a leather relationship.”

“Sir, I intentionally dominated him. I tried to help him understand how to move from being a boy to manhood. I admit it was a bonus to be taken care of sexually by my younger…ah…me being a horny guy. But this fantasy, as you call it, Sir, is not my doing nor anything I agreed to, or want,” Bobby replied. ‘Scott must really be carrying a huge chip on his shoulder,’ he concluded.

“Your master remembers that the ‘messing around’ was a one-way street for you only. Whatever arrangements have been agreed to are for you two to discuss because I’m just the trainer.”

“Um, will I be here long?” ‘Arrangements?’ Bobby wondered, ‘what the fuck is that all about? And there’s that fantasy thing, again.’

“Depends how you respond to our training. I know that the plan is for you to move to Master Scott’s house when he feels you’re ready.”

“House? What the fu…what do you mean, Sir? He lives in a studio apartment in Bucktown.” Bobby was definitely confused by this latest revelation.

“You must know that Master Scott has moved into your town home. He told Master Trey that he met the neighbors and introduced himself. Apparently everyone was pleased to know that he’ll be your roommate…or, the other way around. You were very generous to give him your town home to enjoy. He’s adding a few devices such as embedded metal cleats in his home so that you can be secured when you are moved there.”

“Sir, I am pleading with you and Master Trey to understand that this is not some fantasy that has been arranged between the two of us. From what I have pieced together, Scott had me kidnapped – against my will and knowledge – so he could steal my money and possessions, and dominate me. You must believe me…there has been a horrible misunderstanding on Master Trey’s part. What Scott has done is concocted and downright criminal.”

“You’re serious? This really isn’t part of some big fantasy? I must admit that it seems very complex. This denial is on the level?”

“On the level and I’m very serious. So help me, God,” Bobby replied. ‘Man,’ he thought, ‘my fucking brother has gone too far. He’s taken my house and I’m going to be chained to cleats? No fucking way. I admit, though, that maybe I shouldn’t have sexually used Scott like I did, but I’m not going to apologize…now. Scott has burned these bridges with the crap he’s pulled.’

“If what you say is the truth, this is disturbing news.”

“I need to speak with Master Trey. You know, the only good thing to come out of this horrible situation is that I’ve figured out my sexual orientation. I know I like guys and want to be a master. I was always dominant and that is my destiny.”

“You’ve given me much to think about.” Marcus took hold of Bobby’s hard erection before moving down to his scrotum. “However Master Trey has a special ‘jeweler’ scheduled who will fit you with ornamentation that Master Scott ordered. Maybe we will only do the nipple rings and PA while we investigate your charges.”

“Please inform Master Trey, Sir,” Bobby said. “If any sort of master/slave relationship is going to be established, it needs to be the other way around. My bro…Master Scott has always been more comfortable as a ‘sub’ around me. I am a free man and he must understand that he has been tricked into being part of a criminal plan.”

“I will speak to my master…once I’ve figured out how to approach him. However, in the meantime, it will be the training program as ordered.”

“Sir, I would appreciate your help. In the meantime, I don’t have much choice in the matter, do I? I need to know more techniques, anyway.” Bobby bowed his head and started thinking about how to make lemonade out of the bushel of lemons he had reluctantly acquired.

“That’s the proper outlook. Until told otherwise, your role as a slave is to please everyone in proper fashion.” Marcus replied as he took hold of Bobby’s hard, dripping erection. He began to tenderly massage Bobby’s glans and the ‘G’ spot below. “Slave, your attitude pleases me greatly.”

“Oh, fuck, I haven’t gotten off for a while,” moaned Bobby.

“Consider this your housewarming gift and a reward. Enjoy. This is your last release for a while. I don’t know how long it’ll take to check out your charges if I even get Master Trey’s attention in the matter.” Marcus increased his strokes on Bobby’s tool. “Nice equipment, by the way. Must run in the family,” he said with a laugh.

“Ieee, oh Christ…I’m…shit,” Bobby yelled before shooting a respectable initial load. Stream after stream of semen volleyed on the tile floor until the final dribbles oozed out and slid down his shaft. Marcus’s gentle touch seemed to be communicating something more than welcoming a slave. Marcus held onto his dick until it became soft. ‘Fuck,’ Bobby thought, ‘Once I get this problem behind me, I might enjoy knowing this guy better.’

“A happy camper, I see. Looks like something else is genetic. Master Scott is also quite a shooter.” Marcus walked into the shower and looked back to verify that Bobby was following. “Now take out your butt plug and put it aside. After you relieve yourself in the corner commode, insert the hose up your bung and turn on the special water blend while I straighten up the locker area and perform a few other chores for your stay, however long that may be. You know the drill by now. Give yourself four douches and I don’t want to see any crap on the floor when I return.”

“Yes, Sir,” Bobby replied with his head hanging low.

“I’ll shower you later. Oh, there’s a toothbrush and some paste in there for you to use.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Bobby felt a little extra suck-up was in order.

“I think I’ve got a possible approach that I’ll try to discuss with my master. Don’t get your hopes up, however. Okay, get busy.” Marcus pointed to the plastic dildo hose nozzle and added, “By the way, there are security cameras throughout this area. It would be wise not to do anything that would piss off the master.” Marcus pointed to the closest camera and walked away.

He slowly reached behind and rotated the butt plug to loosen and remove it. “Ohhh,” Bobby audibly uttered with relief. He examined what he had just removed and shook his head with amazement that such a large ‘toy’ could go inside him.

Bobby crawled over to the commode and squatted above the porcelain bidet-shaped device. After finishing expelling his waste and seeing no paper, he took his hand to wipe himself. Next, he moved over to one of the hoses. From his time at the training camp, he indeed knew the drill about douches. ‘Man, after that large plug,’ he thought, ‘this is a piece of cake,’ as he inserted the eight-inch penis-shaped nozzle into his asshole. Bobby was tempted to massage his prostate but thought better of abusing the tentative trust between Marcus and himself.

Bobby was ready to turn on the water system when he heard the wet area door close and a lock engage. ‘Well,’ he considered, ‘so much for trust.’

By the time Marcus unlocked the door and re-entered the shower a half-hour later, Bobby had completely cleaned out his insides and brushed his teeth. He was satisfied that he had properly straightened up the shower area when he assumed the slave kneeling position.

“Very good, slave. Now, rise to your knees,” Marcus commanded.

As Bobby obediently rose, he touched Marcus’s semi-hard cock with his nose. He knew exactly what was expected of him and took the head of the impressive fleshy instrument in his mouth. ‘This is going to give me as much pleasure as I plan on giving to him,’ he decided.

“You learn fast, slave. Let’s see if you can handle it all the way down.” Marcus grabbed onto Bobby’s ears and eased his eight-inch cock into the new slave’s willing mouth.

Bobby almost gagged before remembering to open up his throat at the last moment to admit the hard, thick hot erection. He tentatively began moving back and forth, allowing his tongue to manipulate and excite the flared glans whenever it approached his lips. Bobby was enjoying pleasuring the training slave. Somewhere down deep, he felt a special bond developing.

“Oh, yeah, slave. You’re doing great,” moaned Marcus. He grabbed Bobby’s head and started forcibly fucking the willing mouth. The pumping continued with abandon until Marcus’s body tensed and he shot volleys of semen into the slave’s orifice.

Bobby greedily accepted the hot male seed and was a little disappointed when Marcus left his softening cock buried deep in the mouth beyond the tasting area of his tongue. When Marcus did withdraw, Bobby lapped and kissed the glans as a sign of respect.

“I think I’m going to have fun training you, boy,” Marcus replied as he roughly squeezed Bobby’s nipples until they were hard and alert. “By the way, I did speak to the master about your allegations. My hunch is that he believes you and is working on a plan to check it out as we speak. However, don’t get your hopes up for an early solution. What Master Scott is accused of is very serious and needs to be thoroughly investigated.”

“Thank you, Sir. I’m in Master Trey’s hands.” Bobby decided that after the ordeal of the kidnapping and the camp, a little more time under the tutelage of this hunky training slave wouldn’t be so bad.

“Get up and turn on the shower. It’s time I got you cleaned up, shaved and put away in your new quarters. Master Trey will be visiting us soon with further instructions. Tomorrow will be a busy day.” Marcus helped Bobby up to his feet and steadied the slave. This was the first time in a few days that Bobby was allowed to walk like a free man.

As instructed, Bobby turned on the water and was pleased that he was allowed to wait until the temperature was very warm. Marcus gently offered the waiting pulsing showerheads to his new charge; Bobby smiled when the warm pellets of moisture bombarded his backside. Taking a loofah in one hand and body gel in the other, the training slave carefully and thoroughly washed every part of the new slave’s body. This time Marcus ignored the raging erection wanting attention.

“Oh, Sir. Could we do it one more time?” Bobby mewled while Marcus washed his balls.

“You are a horny one, aren’t you? Marcus replied with a laugh. “The orgasm earlier is definitely your last one for a while. Maybe if Master Trey is happy with your training progress, I can relieve you again soon. I would really enjoy taking care of your needs.” He licked his lips and seductively raised an eyebrow.

“Sir, I’ll be good. Whatever you do to me I’m sure we’ll both enjoy.” Bobby smiled with a dreamy look deep into Marcus’s eyes. The role-playing was quickly changing into a real feeling of affection for the training slave.

“Be still and enjoy the brief shower. This is the final part of my welcoming gift. Rinse off and I’ll dry you before Master Trey joins us.”

“Th…th…that’s it, Sir?” Bobby asked. He knew that everything nice up to now was too good to be real and any further freedoms would be out of the picture until this mess was resolved.

“Very perceptive, slave. Now stay still.”

Bobby decided to be a model slave trainee while he figured out revised strategies of survival based on all the information gathered. ‘I’ll have no problem following this hot dude,’ he considered as Marcus toweled off the water from his skin. ‘But I hope that Master Trey resolves this travesty.’

“Follow me, slave.” Marcus pointed to the tile floor and without a further word spoken communicated that Bobby was to assume the slave crawl. As if on cue, Bobby lowered himself to the floor and followed his new trainer out into the confines of the basement. They stopped as Marcus opened a previously closed door.

“Sir, where am I going?” Bobby asked nervously. He looked into the new room and saw a small cage surrounded by much of the same slave training equipment that he had experienced in Georgia.

“Fucking home, slave. Playtime is over. Get your well-used ass over to bed.” Without missing a beat, Marcus became a dominant slave instructor and disciplinarian. From behind, there was the sound of a large man descending the basement steps.

“Do we have ‘it’ ready for the next phase of instruction?” asked a booming voice.

“Yes, Sir. The new slave is ready.” Marcus sounded happy and relieved to issue this report.

“Very well, Marcus. Allow the new slave a good night’s rest. Tomorrow he will be fitted with the first phase of body jewelry.”

“Yes, Sir, most definitely. Are we still planning to start training first thing in the morning?”

“Absolutely. I promised Master Scott that we would have his new slave properly trained within two or three weeks. However, I will be investigating the charges that the slave has leveled against his master.” Master Trey laughed before he added, “Training begins at 0600.”

“He’ll be ready, Sir.”

“You’ve got the new butt plug?” Master Trey asked.

“Yes, Sir. I’m going to lube the slave and insert it right now.”

Bobby saw, out of the corner of his eye, Marcus retrieve a much larger, flared butt plug. “Oh, man,’ he thought, ‘this is not going to be fun.’ He closed his eyes and felt a sudden rush of coldness when some sort of cold lube was squirted around his pucker and up his chute.

“Breathe in, slave.” Marcus took at least three fingers and roughly inserted them up Bobby’s asshole. After rotating the fingers inside for a few minutes, the tip of a large, cold, plastic plug replaced the warm fingers. “Now, push out.” Without saying another word, Marcus plunged in the entire, ass-splitting butt plug.

“Urmph,” Bobby uttered as the plug entered its new home. He knew that this was the longest and fattest object he had yet to have inserted up his bung. ‘Something tells me that I’m in for more new experiences,’ he thought grimly.

Marcus pushed Bobby forward to crawl to the cage. The door was opened and Bobby entered his new home. Except for a cotton blanket and small rubber mat, the cage was bare. Once inside, Bobby was slightly alarmed when the door clanked closed and Marcus inserted a heavy padlock on the door hasp. “Sweet dreams, slave,” Marcus tenderly whispered. “Save your energy for tomorrow. There’ll be several changes in your life, boy. I want this to be good for you. I feel a friendship developing. The rain has stopped so we’ll be able to go outside and ‘play’.”

Bobby turned inside the cage and maintained the slave bow until he heard footsteps ascend the stairs. ‘What the fuck is really going on?’ he questioned himself. ‘There are lots of games being played here, on several levels. I’ve got to trust Marcus and Master Trey to find the truth.’ Bobby was determined to keep his cool and wait for a favorable situation to present itself. No one realized that they were fucking with a hardcore alpha male.

As they got further into the training over the next week, Marcus was very strict and refined on every part of the basic training experience in Georgia. Not once did a spark of warm feelings surface. In addition to the piercings, Bobby was forced to endure weighted ball stretching, flogging, electro-sex stimulation, and an unforgiving fuck machine.

The living Hell his brother Scott had put him in was shocking and whatever remorse he felt about the way he had dominated their boyhood relationship was negated by Bobby’s current predicament.

*****

A week to the day he had been brought to the house, Bobby was abruptly awakened in the early morning hours. Marcus ordered him to crawl to the wet area for a shower and douche. As Bobby went through the cleaning routine, Marcus seemed to be unusually upbeat.

“I think the master has concluded his investigation of your charges. He wants to talk with you,” Marcus said as he toweled off Bobby.

Rather than risk speaking out of turn, Bobby looked into Marcus’s eyes and smiled. ‘If I get out of this mess,’ he decided, ‘I’m going to get permission and spend the night with this stud.’

“Do we have him ready?” asked a booming voice from above.

“He is ready, per your orders.” He turned to Bobby and whispered, “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Bobby mouthed. He was encouraged that Marcus had allowed his veil of sternness slip, further.

“Very well, Marcus. Let him sit on the bench and bring a chair for me.” Master Trey lumbered down the rest of the stairs and walked over Bobby and sat down.

“I think that a just resolution may be reached in your charges. But first, describe to me the past month of your life.”

Over the next hour Bobby repeated his experiences from the time he left for vacation to the moment he arrived in Hinsdale. He also filled many of the blanks in his life of which Master Trey was unaware. Not only did he contritely confess the early, dominant relationship over Scott, but also the recent discovery of his sexuality and all the nuances. Bobby was very careful to always be respectful to Master Trey throughout the briefing.

“Well, well. That’s quite a story. It coincides with my investigation. That you, as a free man, were forced into this position is a travesty. I hold Scott completely responsible.” Master Trey laughed before he added, “I think he needs to come over for a visit tonight to inspect his ‘slave’. A progress report is in order…and a celebration, sort of.”

“What do you have in mind, Sir?” Marcus asked.

“Here’s the plan.” Master Trey ran through a series of things that needed to be accomplished before Scott’s arrival and how things would go once he arrived.

*****

“Time to get ready for the meeting,” Marcus said quietly with a smile. They went back to the dungeon and stopped before the spotlight-bathed bench. “Mount it and get on your back.”

Bobby stared at the bench and looked up at Marcus. The training slave silently nodded and helped Bobby onto the bench. As he had done many times this past week, Bobby lay down and allowed his wrists and ankles to be cuffed and locked.

When Bobby saw Scott come in, he couldn't believe that this was the same man that he knew as his brother. Gone were the sloppy sweatshirts and baggy jeans. He was dressed in expensive clothes that used to be Bobby’s wardrobe. Scott made eye contact and had a confident, superior smile on his face. He slowly walked from one end of the bench to the other, visually inspecting every square inch of his older brother’s exposed body. Bobby looked back at his younger brother with a blank, neutral look while he seethed inside.