I had switched often between feelings of rage and panic for days after they'd stuck me in the cell. I had be reduced to a bitch in a matter of moments. I was strong, muscular and quite frankly the stud of my school. They'd stripped it all away. My khakis, boat shoes, expensive hats, watches. When they'd thrown me in the cell I was made to watch as several guards pissed on my clothes and torched my hats. What remained was a tiny blue collar they'd put on my neck whose purpose I didn't understand until Mary had come to torture me further. They jeered that I was just Frat Bitch except with none of the status or frat. Just all of the bitch. Days passed and no one would reveal what exactly it is they wanted from me or if I would die. I was forced to use the bathroom in a small bucket in my cell's corner. Most of the time I was naked and cold save for the few times I could manage to sleep on the small cot with the tattered blanket that laid on the stone floor. Day after day the intimidating black man would arrive at my cell with "milking material" as he'd referred to it as. At first I'd refused to eat. I'd dump the food in bucket for a sense of rebellion. This was quickly stopped after I was caught by Marcos and he slapped me across the face so hard my ears rang for an hour straight. After that I stared blankly at the cell wall wondering what it was these freaks had planned for me while eating whatever it was they demanded of me. Today twelve opens cans of pineapple tidbits and a small section of salami sat in the corner. I pushed my head up and stared blankly at the wall. The only time I had contact with anyone other than Marcos was when the prisoner in the cell next to me decided to speak. Although this largely consisted of incoherent babble and crying. I'd assumed he'd been driven mad as would I be.
For the first couple of days I'd beg, offer money, anything to make him let me go. He always replied the same way. "Shut up bitch. You belong to Marcos now." He'd jeer at my nude body and tell me how small my dick was before disappearing upstairs.
In addition to my new odd diet, a woman who referred to herself as Marcy came each day as well. She'd smile at me and sit in a corner right in front of my cell. Often I'd just stare transfixed by her. She didn't seem to be bothered by my nudity which initially surprised me. Often I'd ask why she was here and what their plans were for me. She'd giggle and cross and uncross her legs. Her brown hair neatly in a bun and her lips pursed in a wry half-smile Mary would begin to unbutton her blouse each day and touch her tits right in front of me. Soon my six inch dick would begin to spring forward and immediately a shock would jar me away from my horny reverie knocking me out of whatever position I had taken. With that the woman would giggle and leave and I'd try desperately to forget about how horny I was. It was all I could think to think about. Her tits, ass, tight pussy. However, the moment I let myself feel engorged by thoughts of women I'd be shocked until I cried. I was a captive to my own body and thoughts.
One day I noticed the sound of a key turning in my cage's lock. Two men with blank expressions and menacing frames stood shoulder to shoulder. They then proceeded to inch toward where I sat naked and red-eyed on the floor. A sudden pit in my stomach almost made me barf. "Are you going to let me go?" I said backing into a corner. Both men eerily smirked at one another as if they were amused by the question. One then took me by an ankle and wrenched me out of the corner. Jarred, and now more frightened then ever I started to scream even louder than I had before. Out of nowhere the other man picked me up effortlessly and pinned me by my arms to the wall. "Please just let me leave. I'll do anything!" I begged aware of the hopelessness of the situation. My captors reveled in our pain. The man pinning me began to smirk once more and stroking my face with the back of his hand. An uncomfortable tickling sensation near my asshole and the realization that his boner was poked against my own flaccid dick made me cry out even more. "GOD DAMMIT YOU FAGGOTS LET ME GO!" With that the man stopped smirking and began to choke me. I gasped for breath as the other guard gripped his shoulder tightly. "Stop it!" The man said firmly. However, the guard continued to choke me, although now his hand reached down and I heard the sound of a zipper descending. The furiousness of his gaze terrified me I cried out even louder in fear for my life.
"STOP IT!" The other voice commanded. "If you kill or god forbid, if you FUCK him we're fucked! Understand? He will kill us no questions asked. Suddenly his grip lessened around my throat. As I gasped and coughed for breath the guard who'd choked me said, "I might not get to fuck him, but God I'm going to enjoy seeing Marcos make him suffer." With that the other guard placed a gag and hood over me and slung me over his shoulder as he'd done on that first day and we made our way out of my prison.
I awoke in a stark white room with one door with a gag in my mouth and damp hair. My brown hair lay swept across my face obscuring my vision. Several points of interest came into my mind as I began to take in the room. From what I could feel my collar had been removed which relieved me to no end. However, I was strapped to what looked to be an examination table. I wiggled my chaffing ankles and wrists as I realized that I was now fully clothed. Adorned on my body was a striped polo and brown khakis. I smelled of expensive cologne and soap which was much different than the smell of piss and fruit I had become accustomed to. While I sat pondering the strangeness of my situation three men stood in front of me speaking in hushed tones.
"5,000 dollars each is a lot of money let alone for a joint session." The older man said to Marcos.
"For three hours too? That's bullshit Marcos! Customers used to the older boys like Todd and Brent were charged way less last month and for more time at that!" The other man was younger than the first, yet still middle-aged with a ginger beard and a hard stance.
"Boys, boys! We've decided to step up our game at Straight Forced Men. We're a business and the only way to grow a business and make it better is by raising prices and improving the quality of our product. Todd and Brent are bland twinks we've had for years. Runaways who needed a home and hardly protested at their change of...surroundings. Greg is a straight frat daddy straight off the boat. He isn't lethargic and so drained that the fun isn't so fun anymore. He's fresh meat. With Greg features a transitory time in our business. We can afford to be bolder, more aggressive. Get the type of men that customers will want for at least a year and replace them when their services are no longer sufficient. Now if you don't want to buy into our business and test the newer ideas we have to offer that's fine too, but you'll be sorely missing out." Marcos smiled a brilliant white smile.
"Now that's all fine and good but I am aware of a security breach within your system. Some young man escaped? You have a small roster of about ten men going on. Expanding this business is risky. The more men you have here increases the likelihood of similar situations. You can't afford mistakes especially if our names are to be attached to it." The ginger bearded man in an expensive looking suit said sternly.
Marcos smiled apprehensively at the man. "I understand your concern Rhett however, I assure you the situation has been handled accordingly. In reference to that incident someone who had access to our systems managed to set him free. Although he did manage to escape to a local police station, we do have men on the inside who were able to recapture and relocate him to a remote village outside of the states. There he was auctioned off for about 20,000 US dollars as a sex slave for a prominent African ambassador. No muss no fuss." Marcos half-grinned an empowered grin. "As for the guard who set the man free we have yet to locate who he is or what his potential motives may be, however we will make an example don't you worry."
A lump in my throat appeared suddenly. They had shipped a human being across the sea like a damn slave. The police here couldn't even do anything to stop it either. I almost began to cry at the realization that they could and would do the same to me.
"Well sounds like you're prepared on that front. However, how do you know if your product is sellable?" The man with the Irish accent said.
"See this is why we are giving you as long as you need with Greg to decide for yourself. The first type of product we have is the idea of milking the straight frat boy which I'm sure you're rather familiar with. We'll set up Greg up as our "milk boy" of the month by feeding him only fruits and not allowing for him to cum. He's been put on 24 hour surveillance and every time he reaches for his dick other than to piss in his bucket a small electric collar shocks him until he passes out. It's actually quite amusing." Marcos grinned an elated grin at my expense.
"Enough talk I want to see how good this new way of doing things is going to save your business," said the Irishman.
With that the two grinned and made their way to my side. I tried my hardest to just close my eyes and pretend that this wasn't really happening, but a sudden rummaging in my pants forced my eyes open.
"Stpppp," I screamed through the gag. "Gt yur fckin hnds oofff me!" I bucked and screamed while the man continued to stroke my flaccid dick and the other stuck a hand up my shirt.
"My God!" The Irishman said. "He is so much feistier than the little twinks you had in here before." Slowly the man palmed my dick through my shorts.
"Well when you've kept a bunch of queens around for a couple of months you tend to get a much different reaction than if you pluck one right from Frat Boy Island," Marcos smiled and handed a pair of scissors to the Irishman's companion. "Come on men sample the product! His body is the best we've gotten in so far." With that the two began to cut my clothing to pieces so fast that within moments was nude.
"We will provide a variety of options for our select clientele. Some will want to molest their straight boys in silence hence the gag that we've used on Greg while other more sadistic members of our club will opt for a more.....vocal performance." Marcos did little more than grin once again as the two began molesting my body farther.
The redheaded fag began to lick my nipples with one hand stroking my package through the material of the black boxer briefs they had dressed me in. The other sniffed and licked heartily at my armpits while slowly twisting the other. The more I screamed curses through the gag and threatened the louder the men slurped and pawed at my body. Suddenly, the massages to my dick began to make me grow harder. The man's friend yanked my boxers off over my ass in one swift motion until they fell around my ankles.
"God he's gorgeous Marcos! Even semi hard his dick is just amazing to look at. As tan as the rest of his body and oozing precum from weeks of not cumming." The man was practically salivating. To my horror the man began to lick the precum from my slit while cupping the balls. The other man continued to pry my nipples with his hand and mouth while feeling down my body. Marcos just stood in a faraway corner watching and smirking.
Oh god oh god oh god oh god! I kept repeating the words in my head so as not to give him the satisfaction of my torment. As my dick began to grow harder I wrenched my body harder against my restraints. They were turning me into some kind of bitch faggot. The Irishman slurped readily while my dick betrayed me and grew harder. Admittedly all of the attention to my dick was sending me into sensory overload begging me to cum and give into their pleasures, my entire being was repulsed.
"His balls are tightening already. DAMN!" The Irishman said raucously. "He's ready to explode. At this rate he could be milked for hours. We could charge upwards of $20,000 per group just to force, edge, and deny his orgasm for hours."
"I know," said Marcos smugly. "As tempting as it is to do it now I say we wait. Let him unload now and wait for an additional month. Charge thousands for a main event! Tabling him for that long gives us a chance to garner inventory."
A month? I repeated the word in my head. I let out a stifled moan of confusion and disdain as the man's tongue began to slide up and down my shaft. Soon he was gripping the shaft with his left hand in an endless tunnel motion bringing me closer and closer to the edge. The Irishman even tickled my asshole with one of his fingers as he sucked me harder. My face contorted in rage! No way was a fag gonna fuck me. I began breathing heavy as he continued to encircle my hole with his forefinger.
"My god his ass is tight! If we stuck a dildo up there his load would be phenomenal!" The man whispered in awe.
"Don't tease him too hard! Marcos sneered straight boys hate having their asshole played with! The man eased his pressure of my asshole and began to swirl my cock head with his tongue. I When I finally came it was as if every molecule in my body exploded all at once. Ropes and ropes of cum dribbled out of my cock as I let out a long sexually frustrated grunt. As I laid there defeated the Irishman lapped the semen off of my dick and wiped his mouth with a handkerchief in his pocket like he's just eaten a goddamn steak dinner.
"I-I honestly don't know what to say! His cum was fucking delicious as was the rest of his body. I felt such an overwhelming lust for his body. Like...like I had to fuck him. Greg and anyone like him can be an incredibly innovative way to make money off of the "straight man". If you can get me more straight, little slaves like him you have all of my support." The Irishman quivered and wiped more dribble from his beard.
"I don't need your support Rhett, Tom. I require your funds." Marcos let out that signature grin that I had grown to despise and extended his hand. "What do you say?"
The two men smiled as they both shook their hands vigorously. "You have a deal Marcos. Anything you require shall be given to you." And for the second time in that day I lost consciousness.