Becoming Slave 172
by Tombscreen
19 Nov 2023 10995 readers Score 9.3 (54 votes) PDF Mobi ePub Txt
Chapter 8: Thanks Mate!
The Story So Far:
After being convicted on trumped-up drug charges, straight boy Noah has been sold into slavery.
Stripped of its identity and forced to suck cock, drink piss, and worship his owner’s hole, the last chapter saw the slave taking its first spanking and caning before being tattooed and whored out to Master Ross’ merciless best friend, Josh, until it passed out.
DAY 5 of SLAVERY
As slave 172 regained consciousness, it slowly became aware that it was no longer being throat fucked, although it remained tied to the fuck bench. The boy’s throat felt like it had lost a battle with a chainsaw.
“Hey, boy. Don’t worry, Josh has gone. Here, drink this; it’ll help your throat...”
Sir held a mug of hot tea to his boy’s lips to sip, infused with a generous helping of honey. Master Ross worked his way around the four corners of the bench, releasing his slave from its restraints one by one as he spoke.
“You did good, 172. Josh was always going to be rough, but you handled it pretty well, considering your inexperience. Shame you passed out, but you'll get there with enough practice.”
He helped the poor boy off the bench and guided him to the bed, securing the chain from the headboard to the boy’s collar.
“You’ve earned a chance to relax for a bit, boy. Drink the tea and get a bit of rest if you can. There’s someone else coming over later; then you can get an early night & some proper downtime tomorrow."
With that, Sir placed the mug of tea on the bedside table and left it alone in the dungeon to drift off into a light sleep as its shredded throat, new tattoos & bruised body competed for which ached more.
A few hours later, 172 awoke to the sound of the dungeon door opening and Master’s voice talking to the latest guest. As the voices got nearer, the slave was suddenly struck by something – the voice sounded familiar. Very familiar.
Slave 172 anxiously watched the bottom of the staircase but couldn’t believe who appeared in the dungeon.
Lewis Bannon was 172’s roommate and the closest friend it had made since moving to university a year ago.
At 5’8” and the same age as the slave, they could have easily passed as brothers before 172 was enslaved. His shaggy, curly hair was naturally light brown, but he often dyed it eccentric colours – this month, it was lilac purple.
Lewis was a typical uni student enjoying the freedoms of living away from his home in Liverpool for the first time – as interested in getting drunk & high as he was in scraping through his English Literature studies.
Lewis was one of 172's many gay friends. 172 had joined in with Lewis at last year’s Pride parade, marching shirtless through Manchester’s gay village in matching crop tops & short shorts for a laugh.
Lewis had jokingly admitted to finding the now-slave hot while drunk. 172 had to admit Lewis was objectively attractive too – his greyish-blue eyes were like bottomless pools, his button nose & rounded chin bookending his adorable smile that could put anyone at ease, and a slim, naturally hairless torso.
“Hey, mate, how you doing? Fucking cool ink, man! Your Master tells me you’re doing really well in your training”.
172 was mortified that his former best friend was seeing him like this yet acting so casually.
“Thanks for taking the rap for us, mate. We all got off with a caution once we agreed to testify against you. Not that we needed to go to court in the end”.
The slave simply sobbed, instinctively beginning to curl its naked body into a ball as the conscious part of its brain began to fail and shut down.
“We all went to your auction; we were gutted when we found out it was cancelled. But I’m so glad you got the opportunity to do this. Being a house slave suits you. It would have been such a shame for you to waste away down the mines”.
Opportunity!? Like a switch flicking in its head, the slave scrunched his face in rage and raised itself from the bed to its feet, primed to confront his former friend. This wasn’t an opportunity! He hadn’t asked to be treated like this. 172 had nothing against gays like Lewis or Master, but he was straight, and no matter what, that wouldn’t change. He couldn’t believe Lewis could act like this was OK!
172 opened its mouth to shout as it tried to approach its former friend as best as its chain leash would allow. But before it could come face-to-face with Lewis and before any sound could escape from its lips, Master assertively placed a firm hand on his shoulder, his fingers digging into the bare skin, simultaneously stopping the slave in its tracks and pushing it back to its knees.
“Calm down, 172. You should be happy your friends want to come and see you! Lewis here has come to cheer you up and help with your training. I think you owe him a thank you for being so good to you."
172 scowled, still quietly seething, determined not to give the backstabber the satisfaction. But after a few moments of silence, a forceful backhand across the face from Master Ross sent the boy tumbling to the ground and forced it to relent. Stumbling back to its knees and rubbing its cheek, as a single tear rolled down it, the slave forced itself to mutter: “Sorry, Master. Thank you, Lewis”.
Lewis smirked, “Good boy. But I was thinking you could thank me another way. I've been dreaming about getting your juicy lips around my cock since the day we met. I'm excited to see what Master Ross has taught you."
The rage within the boy was replaced with both shock and profound humiliation. Lewis had been like a brother to him, yet now here he was - instead of rescuing him, he was planning to *use* him as if he meant nothing to him. Did he seriously not feel even slightly sorry for him!?
The boy’s head sank, and its eyes fell to the floor. The slave couldn’t bring himself to watch Lewis unbutton his jeans to reveal a pink jockstrap and shuffle around with the bulge inside.
But it again felt its Master’s touch, this time firmly grasping the slave’s head, forcing it to look up and, for the first time, see the thin 6” cock that it had heard his former friend brag about so often emerging from Lewis’ jock, jutting straight out from a thick forest of pubes that marked a stark contrast to the slave’s hairless torso.
The boy whimpered as the jock fell to the floor, and Lewis stepped out of it, slowly walking towards his former friend, his hand wrapped around his erect member, slowly stroking it.
He came to a halt in front of the slave, just far enough away that the boy couldn’t reach the cock filling its frame of view without shuffling towards it on its knees. With a subtle, gentle push from Master Ross, the slave moved forward and tentatively opened its mouth to embrace the tip of Lewis’ dick.
As its mouth slowly closed around the intruder, it heard Lewis gently sigh from above, and the slave’s heart sank. 172 scrunched its eyes closed in humiliation as it began to take more of the cock into its mouth and brace for another face-fucking from the man it once loved like a brother.
But the onslaught never came. Instead, the slave felt Lewis’ hand on the back of its head, calmly guiding the slave’s head into a gentle bobbing rhythm. The contrast with Master Josh was startling. Rather than the tirade of humiliation it had been on the receiving end of earlier, Lewis instead gave the slave tips and pointers as he stroked its buzzcut head.
Eventually, Lewis’ gentle moans grew louder and breathy, his hands guiding the slave’s head deeper and faster until 172 felt its friend’s member begin to twitch. With an almighty groan, Lewis pushed his cock in up to the hilt, the slave’s lips buried in his pubes, and deposited rope after rope of cum into the slave’s throat.
“Oh fuck, that was even more fun than I thought. We should have fucked you up sooner, mate!” Lewis chuckled as he got his breath back.
Master Ross, who had been watching the spectacle from the bed as he stroked his own cock, now sat up and swung his legs around to stand up, a mischievous grin on his face.
“My turn, slave”.
Master Ross got up from the bed as Lewis stepped away from the kneeling slave, taking it by one of the rings in its steel collar and raising the slave to its feet before moving it back towards the fuck bench it had been strapped to earlier that day.
Master finished securing the slave and stood in front of its face, its mouth already open in anticipation of the duty it was rapidly becoming accustomed to. This time the pace would be all on Master Ross as he stuck the end of his thick cock into the boy’s mouth and thrust into the slave’s sore throat.
By now, the slave was too mentally exhausted to give any serious thought to its predicament and just let his Master take what he needed while he ran his hands along its exposed body.
172 didn’t notice the second pair of hands running along its body to its exposed rear until it was snapped back to reality when they ventured into its ass crack and brushed its tight, virgin hole.
It felt cold lube being applied to its hole by Lewis’ fingers, and attempted to whine a protest, but nobody heard it with Master Ross’ cock filling his mouth. For the first time, the slave’s virgin hole was being invaded by the probing finger of its former best friend, and all the boy could do was lie there and take it.
Lewis continued to probe at the slave’s tight hole, first with his fingers and then with a small, thin dildo from Master Ross’ collection. To Lewis’ experienced hole, it would have barely been noticeable, but to the virgin slave, it felt like being ripped apart. Only, the more it went on, the more the slave realised it wasn’t hating it. And that’s when its cock – untouched since his enslavement – began to attempt to get hard. Or as hard as it could in its tiny metal prison.
The slave was mortified, but it couldn’t deny that it was enjoying whatever Lewis’ toys were doing to it. 172 couldn’t explain it. It was like it was pushing all the buttons inside it.
Lewis noticed and smiled, signalling to Master Ross that their plan was working perfectly. Lewis continued working the slave’s prostate for a few more minutes, by which time it was moaning around the cock in its mouth and beginning to leak precum from its excruciatingly small cage.
And then, with the boy right on the edge, Lewis stopped. He withdrew the dildo and placed it down on the side as Master Ross withdrew his cock from the boy’s mouth.
The slave looked up, confused and frustrated, as Lewis joined Master Ross in front of him and leaned in to kiss the boy’s owner, leaving the boy to whine with the pent-up sexual energy it had been on the verge of releasing still clouding its mind.
Breaking away from making out with Lewis, Master Ross looked down at his slave still chained to the bench: “I was enjoying that slave, but I’ve had a better offer tonight.”
Lewis chuckled, and between them, they unchained the boy from the bench before Lewis guided it to a corner of the cellar it hadn’t noticed much before. Master Ross approached them and pulled back some black dust sheets to reveal a stockade.
In theory, the boy could be restrained so that it faced the bare bricks of the cellar’s wall, just inches from its face. Perfect for when Sir wanted to store the slave away and inflict hours of tedious and seemingly endless corner time. But tonight, it would be facing the other way – forced to kneel and stare into the cellar, directly facing the bed.
While Master Ross secured the boy into the contraption, Lewis lay back on the bed and lubed his hole. Master Ross was hands down the sexiest man to have shown any interest in him, and that was saying something. It would be a crying shame if only the fucking slave of all things got to enjoy him!
Master Ross stood back and smiled at the boy, padlocked into a kneeling position in the stockade, before turning around and walking over to Lewis on the bed.
So many thoughts should have been running through 172’s head at that moment, but there was only one. As Sir walked away from him, his plump muscular ass subtly swaying as he walked, all 172 could think about was how fucking sexy his owner was.
Master Ross mounted the bed, positioned himself over Lewis and passionately made out with the young man lying naked in his bed. Eventually, Ross couldn’t hold off any longer; he took hold of the young man’s ankles and raised them to sit on his shoulders. He positioned his meaty cock, still glistening from the slave’s saliva, at the entrance to Lewis’ tight, pink hole.
Gently but firmly, he pressed forward, impaling the boy on his member. Pausing just for a moment to allow Lewis to adjust to the intruder, the slave had no choice but to look on as its owner began to piston in and out of his former best friend, Sir’s beautiful round buttocks tensing and relaxing with each forceful thrust. Their moans and grunts echoing off the brick walls of the cellar.
Lewis & Noah used to joke about overhearing each other’s conquests when they lived in their shared apartment, but nothing about the slave’s new life seemed funny anymore. Stored away in the corner like a possession, humiliated and in agony from being forced to kneel on the bare concrete yet again, the slave was forced to watch their primal fucking. And the worst part was, its goddamn cock had swelled to fill every crevice of the chastity cage to bursting point.
172 was forced to look on as the two changed position, Lewis getting on all 4’s facing the slave as Master Ross positioned himself behind him doggy-style. As Ross resumed pounding, Lewis couldn’t help but bury his face into the bedsheets and the slave couldn’t help but wonder how that felt; it had nearly cum just from Lewis using the dildo on it. The slave knew it would find out soon enough.
In contrast to Lewis, Master Ross made eye contact with his slave as he resumed pounding his new fuckbuddy & slapping his ass. A sinister smirk on his face as he looked forward in his head to how it would feel to fuck his property’s tight, virgin hole. And at that, he toppled past the point of no return and pulled most of the way out, pumping copious amounts of his seed into Lewis’ hole until it spilt down his crack.
Lewis collapsed onto the bed on his front, his arms and legs sprawled out beside him, as Master Ross finally pulled out of his creamy hole. After catching his breath, Sir paced over to the slave in the corner and stuck his cum-covered cock in his slave’s immobilised face to clean as he undid the padlocks of the stockade. When satisfied that his dick was suitably cleaned, he dragged the slave over to kneel next to the bed.
“You owe Lewis a thank you for pleasing your Master, boy. You can start by cleaning up my mess for him.”
The slave looked around for a towel or something he could use to wipe the puddles of cum that were forming at Lewis’ hole and trickling down his crack and balls, but it couldn’t find anything before Master Ross spoke again:
“For God’s sake, boy, use your tongue, you’re a fucking slave”.
He grabbed the slave’s head and pushed it towards Lewis’ cum-covered ass, as Lewis shuffled backwards towards the edge of the bed to meet it.
This felt like a new low for the slave. It felt another part of its former self dying inside as it slowly lapped the cum from its best friend’s used hole. It listened to Lewis giggle, as much from the slave’s tongue tickling his sensitive rim as from his new fuckbuddy Ross laying on his back next to him, making humorous jokes at the slave’s expense.
When Master felt it had done a good enough job, he ordered the slave into its cage and padlocked it shut without saying another word, heading back to bed with Lewis. The slave would have to fall asleep curled up on the cold, steel floor of its cage, surrounded by bars, listening to the whispered sweet nothings of its owner and its best friend as they fell asleep, spooning in the warm, comfy bed