The Alex Chronicles

He steps in front of me, still holding the leash, and knocks on the door. A naked man in a collar and cage opens the door and bows to us. Billy shortens the leash in his hand and pulls me over to where Master Leroy is seated, and immediately I fall to the ground and grovel before him trying not to shake or breathe too heavily.

“Slow your breathing, boy,” says Leroy. I guess these Masters all have the same technique. My familiarity with that command helps me feel more comfortable, groveling here naked before a stranger while a good number of very well built men stand around watching my humiliation. I remain where I am.

“Welcome to the ranch, Billy. I’m so glad you’ve been able to make it, and I congratulate you on acquiring a good-looking boy who seemingly has the right understanding of what it means to be a slave. I trust the training is going well at the cabin?”

“Yes, indeed, Leroy, as I was telling you last night. I’m quite pleased and with the proper discipline I believe this boy is going to be a good model to emulate for many a new submissive hoping for a deeper relationship with its inner slave. And I’m grateful for your invitation, buddy, and for the opportunity to give this slave some new experiences that will help it sink into what I believe to be its natural state.”

“Let’s see how well it cleans boots.” Leroy nudges my head. “Get to work, slave. Make My boots wet and clean.” He turns to address the other slave. “Cory, tend to Master Billy’s boots. Get down there and show our guest what a properly trained slave can do.” I hear quick motion. I guess cory rushes to obey. I can hear the rest of the crew speaking quietly among themselves, and distinctly hearing two of them speaking about spit roasting cory and then switching places. Obviously a lot more is going to be happening than basic farm chores around here. I hear cory licking, kissing and sucking Master’s boots and get more involved myself; Master Leroy stops me and orders me to kneel up. I do so, and He looks me over, reaching out for my nipples which, as I’ve learned, I push into His fingers showing that there is no part of my body that I keep back for myself and that any Master has every right to touch me in any way He wishes. Master L isn’t shy at all about working a new boy’s nipples, and soon I am breathing through my teeth and moaning as Master rolls and pulls and tightens His grip on me.

Master B speaks up. “I’ve made it clear to my slave that it is never to try to act brave or heroic, but that I always expect myself and anyone else around the be able to hear its pain. Nothing hidden.”

“I agree with you on that, Billy. I love the sound of a slave’s painsong.”

“Good word, Leroy, ‘painsong’. Make my boy sing for You, my friend.”

Master L’s grip on my buds is stronger than the most severe nipple clamps I have ever felt and my moans turn to outcries and Master chuckles in response. “Such sweet music. Allow me to have my own faggot sing for you in return. Cory, crawl over here and kneel up alongside this other slave.” Cory rushes into position, saliva still dripping from its lips as a result of the boot service it has been providing for my Master.

Master L gestures to one of the farm hands. “Clip this pervert’s hands behind its back and attach a chain to its collar. Make sure things are good and tight.” “Yes, Sir,” He answers the Master as He approaches cory who has already places his hands behind himself. Cory’s wrists are clipped and then together they are pulled up much closer to his neck and he grunts at the tight bondage which is obviously quite uncomfortable. “Look me in the eyes, slave. Repeatedly thank Me for hitting you.”

Master L begins to slap cory’s face, good and hard, back and forth, faster and faster and cory struggles to ride with the pain and his attempts to blurt out “thank You, Sir,” become more strained and actually ended up being cried out as tears form on his face and he is close to sobbing. Master L stops. “A different kind of song, perhaps, but this worthless slave has demonstrated its misery adequately, at least for the moment. alex, do not fear that you will be treated the same way. There is a world of difference between the two of you besides your ages and time spent in slavery. And unlike you, cory is carrying a heavy weight of guilt which must be dealt with continually until I decide it can be wiped away. that will take a lot of doing, and guys, don’t hold back today, but be careful not to push this novice slave too near its outer boundaries. Give it about one fifth of what you most likely will enjoy laying on cory. Understand, fellows?” They all indicate their understanding.

“Okay,” says Leroy. “Time for the next phase of our little welcoming ceremony.” Jackson, bend my bitch over the railing and pull its neck down as far as possible while keeping its arms attached. And Artie, please get the ankles and wrap straps around its upper thighs. I want as little movement as possible.” Finally cory is bent over and tightly bound in a way I have never seen before. Master L turns to my Master, “You have several possible options for setting up your property. Chose whatever you think best.”

Master points to a padded table and says to me, “All fours!” and I know what I must do. The table isn’t tall and once I’m bent over the way Master has ordered me to, He has easy and direct access to my butthole, or, I guess I should say, pussy. But before we begin, Master L still has one more thing to do. He asks two of the guys to “spread its cheeks” and they get behind cory and open him up, exposing his hole to all in the room. Master L approaches and takes a heavy wooden spoon and begins to brutally flog the slave’s hole and the sound of the blows echoes through the room along with cory’s cries of agony. I remember what Master told me about cory’s misbehavior and I have some idea why it is being treated the way it is. (Damn, I still find it strange to refer to a brother slave as an ‘it’—but I’m sure I”ll get used to it in time.)

Once Master L has topped beating the slave, he turns to the ranch-hands assembled and says, “I need three volunteers to fuck the shit out of this fucking pervert.” Three quickly step forward. I notice that cory is quietly weeping to himself—oops, itself---and Master Billy steps up to me and lubes up His fingers and proceeds to open up my own ass (“pussy”) and, bless Him, He is doing the same thing He did the last time He fucked me—He’s making sure I can take it without any awful pain. Before he enters me Master L makes an announcement.

“It is important for all of you to realize what’s happening here. Billy and I are demonstrating to all of you that these two slaves, these two pieces of property belonging to us, are objects for our pleasure and need—notice what I just said—need to be reminded of what they are and how inferior to all of us they are and will remain for all time. In case you are wondering, I am not exercising my own right to fuck my slave because I am so angry with it that I don’t think it deserves to have contact with any part of my body at all. As usual, all of you are invited to take advantage of this pig should the mood strike you. Our guest’s slave is not available for intercourse but you are most welcome to make use of its mouth and throat, provided you don’t interfere too much with the work it is being assigned to do. In addition to that, when you have time, feel free to motivate these slaves with your own belts and whips but be careful not to break the skin. And, by all means, don’t hold back disciplining the slave you know so well, but go a bit easy on the other one since it is not yet accustomed to much corporal punishment. Slapping is encouraged if you are so interested. Thank you, all, for being here for this special “ceremony.” See to it that some of the most distasteful work, and the hardest labor, is assigned to both of these workhorses. And, now that I’ve said all I wish to say, gentlemen, please begin making use of the two, since their body positions are offering their back channels for your pleasure.” And with that, he actually leaves the room.

I am feeling so humiliated as I realize that my Master is going to bugger me like a common whore in front of all these seemingly straight farmhands, all of whom are well built as a result of the hard work that is part of their lives, lives that they have willingly chosen. As for me, this is most definitely something I would not choose for myself; I am surrendering to my Master’s wishes, and trying not to be overcome with anxiety. What is going to be happening? Suddenly I stop entertaining this train of thought and do what is expected of me by my Master: I focus on His cock as it penetrates me and, I must admit is sending waves of pleasure throughout my body as Master doesn’t simply fuck me; I don’t know if anyone else notices this, but it is clear to me: my Billy is making love to me and is very proud to be doing so even while we are hearing the grunts and squeals of the other slave who is being brutalized by three rather well-hung and horny young men. Better him than me. I hope I never, ever do anything that would warrant the type of treatment cory is receiving.

Master finishes with me and asks for a rag to use to wipe up the lube leaking out of my asshole. As for His load, I guess it will just either be soaked into me inside or it will end up dripping from me, making it even more humiliating and embarrassing. He orders me to get down off the table and then He holds me in His arms for a bit and I soak up the love which I know He has for me, understanding full well that His love is based on the fact that He has absolute power over me and that I belong to Him in all ways. After all, isn’t that why I am here right now and about to be used as a common slave laborer? The thought tickles my inner slave, but still I am a bit anxious to find out what happens next.

One of the men, a hunky blond dude probably a little younger than me takes the end of my leash and commands me to follow him. Without another word, He leads me out of the house, across the yard and into what I assume are the stables. In the distance I see horses roaming around in a corral, looking ever so much more free than I am. “You may call me Bret,” He says to me, “if you need to call me. Otherwise, ‘Sir’ is appropriate for me or any of the other men as well. I guess you’ve never mucked out a stable before, boy, have you?”

“No, Sir. Never been on a ranch before. Never been in a stable.” He comes over to me with a stern look on his face and takes his hand and slaps me across my face twice.

“A simple ‘No, Sir,’ would have sufficed. You’ve not hear to conduct conversations. Answer what you’re asked as simply as possible and keep your fucking eyes down as much as possible. I know I’m a blond god type; I’m not a faggot like you. I don’t cotton to you grooving on my good looks and if I think you’re doing that you’ll be feeling my strap across your well-fucked ass, boy. So eyes down unless you need to look somewhere else to get your work done. Now I’m going start cleaning up one of these spots. Watch my hands and arms so you learn what to do. Learn fast because I have other things to get to.”

“Yes, Sir.” He starts working and it obviously isn’t anything all that difficult, but shit, does it stink! He dumps what he picks up into a wheelbarrow, steps back, and says, “Go at it, slave. Let’s see what you can manage to do. this is idiot work so I’ll be shocked it you can’t manage it.”

I start, rather clumsily, and when I go to dump what I picked up into the wheelbarrow, most of it falls on the ground. He smacks me hard on my ass. “Gotta do better than that, slave. Pick up what you spilled with your fucking hands and put it into the wheelbarrow. Be more careful the next time. Oh, and make sure you don’t put your fingers in your eyes or mouth after this, unless you like the taste of horse shit! Go on, slave, bend the fuck over and pick up that crap!” As I bend over, He smacks my ass again. I hasten to pick up everything I dropped trying not to think about what it is.

My next effort is more successful. “Okay, bitch. Five horses are bordered here. Clean up all their stalls. That should keep you busy for a while.” And He turns around and walks away, leaving me alone and trying with all my mental energy to lose myself in the work I’ve been assigned as a work of submission to Master, not merely to these cowhands.

By the time I’m finished with the second stall, I’m dripping with sweat. All I can do is use my arms to wipe the sweat off my brow. Flies are all over the place and I’ve been bitten once or twice. I swat the flies when I can, but that means I’m getting the horse shit over my body as well. And my ass is still dripping. Woe is me!

I’m just working on the fourth stall when the foreman walks in. I don’t know his name but I know he’s the foreman because he carries a small whip with him and Master had told me that back at the cabin.

He raps my back with the whip, but just gently. “Not bad, slave, not bad. Stop for a minute. Put down the pitchfork and raise your hands up in the air. I’m going to spray you with something that will protect you a bit from the flies.” I’m about to thank him, but then catch myself. I’m a dumb animal. Not much power of speech. I raise my hands and he sprays me everywhere, even down on my cage and balls and then down my legs. As soon as he’s finished, he says to me, “Now that I’ve been good to you, boy, it’s time for you to be good to me. On your fucking knees in front of me here. I’ve got something for you to take care of.” He opens His strap and jeans and takes out his cock and balls. Hell! Nice cock! “Balls first, faggot. Lick up my sweat.” Wow! Talk about musk. Talk about gross. Trying to be mindless, trying to bury my head in submission, I lick him clean and then as soon as I possibly can, stick his hardening cock into my  mouth and make believe I’m in love with him and give him all the loving attention I so willingly bestow on this Master. His moans tell me that He approves of my efforts. he quickly gets hard and fills my mouth and gets bigger than I expected and I begin to choke. “Easy, fucker. I don’t want you to choke. Not into that. Go down on me as far as you can without choking and use a lot of tongue. Tighten your mouth, cocksucker.” I go to put my hands on his ass and he yells at me “Don’t’ fucking touch me with those shit-covered hands, cocksucker,” and He lashes His whip down my back. I open my mouth to cry out and He hits me again. “I’m gonna keep whipping you, boy, until you get yourself back down on my dick and suck the spunk out of me.” Immediately, I go about what I’ve been ordered, and, thank God, the lashes stop falling on me. Finally he yells out, “Here it comes!” and pulls His dick out of my mouth and shoots His load down my chest and it starts to run down as it mixes with my sweat. “Not bad, kid. I can see why your Master thinks it’s worth the effort to keep you.  Now get your ass back to work and finish up in here. There are other things for you to do and time’s a’wasting.” He stands back a bit just to watch me get back to work. I’m filthy, sweating and dripping and now cum is sliding down my chest. I know for sure that when I think back to this day I’ll be turned on by the thought of what has been happening to me, but here and now, I‘m not really enjoying myself.

Finally I finish this dirty work and blondie comes back in to inspect the results of my labor. I make the mistake of gazing on his flaming blond hair and beautiful blue eyes and He catches me and starts screaming at me. “I fucking told you not to look at my face and perve on me, faggot!” He comes over to me and starts slapping my face, back and forth, harder and harder until there are tears in my eyes. “Go ahead little boy, cry for your Daddy, but he’s not going to be able to help you now.” He goes to a storeroom in the back of the stable and comes out with a fierce looking riding crop. “Now pick up that wheelbarrow and go where I show you to dump all that shit out!” I try to do so and find it to be very heavy. I struggle with it. “Here, faggot, let me help you!” His idea of help is to use the riding crop on me, which forces me to try to move as quickly as possible to get away from it. “That’s it, slaveboy, get that shit out of here and go dump it.” He doesn’t lash hard; he remembers they were all told not to break the skin, but the damn thing stings like hell. Not only does it sting my flesh but it also drives me deeper and deeper into a state of miserable slavery and I can’t possibly imagine how the poor African slaves managed to endure their fate, some of them suffering all of their lives. And suddenly, as I struggle to maneuver the wheelbarrow and suffer under the sting of blondie’s riding crop, I realize sometime that blows my mind: just for now, just for this morning, I am a REAL SLAVE! I am doing hard labor and being whipped while doing it by a Master who has nothing but scorn and disgust for me.

I fall once onto the dirty ground and He actually kicks me in the rear end and spits on me. “Go ahead, fucker, roll around in the dirt!” as He continues to lash me and kick at me and finally I just give up and straighten out my body and roll around, letting my sopping wet body pick up more dirt which starts to turn to mud. The foreman comes by to see what’s going on and reprimands blondie for going too hard on me. He helps me up off the ground and orders blondie to finish taking the wheelbarrow to where it has to go. Blondie picks it up as if it were nothing and laughs at me that I’m such a weakling that I couldn’t manage it myself. “That’s enough, Eugene!” the foreman says, and picks up the end of my leash and leads me back to the stables.

“You’re a fucking mess, boy. Gotta get you cleaned up some or your Master is going to be furious at you.” That really gets to me: I’m a mess and he makes it out as if it’s my fault! Oh well, what the fuck comes next? He leads me back to the barn, making me walk and stumble as he drags me by the leash. He takes me to the back of the barn where I see a hose and faucet. “Close your eyes and put your hands out in front of you, boy. Gonna rinse you off before bringing you back to your Master. I reckon you’ve had enough for one day.” He turns on the water. There is a spritzer on the end of the hose and he uses it to power wash most of the dirt and spunk off my body and the water is not too cold, but cold enough to increase my own misery, especially when jets of water hit the places where I’ve been whipped. I cry out and howl and start to cry. Finally he stops spraying my body and works on my hands which are caked with horseshit. He doesn’t get me completely clean, but clean enough. Once he’s finished my “bath,” he takes some rope and ties my hands together and once again pulls me with the leash out to the clearing in front of the house. Using the rope, he binds me to the stockade fence and walks away leaving me out the in the blazing sunshine, and as he approaches the house, I hear him (I can’t see the house because of the way I’m bound) speaking to Master: “Of course it’s up to you, Sir, what you want to happen to your slave, but it is my humble opinion that it has had enough for one day. It did a good and far amount of hard work, and also serviced a couple of our guys. I did my best trying to hose off most of the sweat and dirt and cum that was on it. My suggestion is that you bring it home and give it a hot shower and maybe a little bit of time to relax before making any more demands on it today. I have to say that I am actually impressed with the amount of work it got done, considering it’s never been on a ranch before. It did piss off our of my men, I must admit, but that guy it pissed off has it in for fag slaves and you’ll see the result on its body. It’s got quite a bit of welts—well deserved, certainly. All slaves deserve whatever discipline they receive, of course. If you agree with me, Sir, we can wrap it in some rags and toss it into the back of your van so it doesn’t dirty the seats. But at this point I encourage You to take it home. Next time you bring it here, we’ll get some more work out of it, to be sure, and I’ll make it my mission to supervise it well and keep the guy who abused it so much away from it.”

“I appreciate your wisdom, Sir, and take your advice. I thank you for looking out for it and for trying to get most of the filth off it. I agree it would be good to just wrap it up and dump it in the back of the van. I’ll take care of things when we get home. Tell me, has it had any water?”

“I can’t say for sure, Billy.”

“Well then, why don’t you get your guys to package it up nicely and I’ll go into the house to get some water to give it.” The foreman agrees. I never did catch his name.

A couple of ranchhands approach me at the fence and unbind me. “Nothing out of the ordinary here, kid. We have slaves coming here all the time for some hard work and discipline. You did good, kid.” they wrap the ropes around me so I cannot move my hands, and throw some kind of thing that look like a dress over my head and then let it hang down. Master comes out of the house with a bottle of water. “Kneel, slave!” I kneel before Him. I’m happy to be taking orders from Him now, instead of the others. He opens the bottle of water, drinks some Himself, then fills up His mouth and puts it to mine and dribbles the water into my mouth and down my throat. A couple of the guys never saw anything like this before and chuckle at the sight. Master turns to them. “I almost always have My slave drink right from My mouth to emphasize the fact that everything in its life comes from its Master and that it has nothing on its own.” “Impressive!” One of the guys says. “I’m gonna tell Leroy about that. Maybe He’ll start doing it with cory once cory’s punishment time is over. Until it’s over, cory will be lucky if it has anything at all to drink, the fucking chicken hawk pervert!”

Master gives me a few mouthfuls of water and notices how dazed I am at this point. He asks the guys to load me into the back of the van and they do so. Leroy comes out of the house and Master goes to talk to him for a good long time, while I’m lying there bound up and in a filthy dress and quite miserable, but already I’m starting to react to what has happened as something that will be an arousing memory for a long time to come. What a fucking slave I really am, realizing that eventually I’m going to get off on all this. Could I possibly feel any lower?