Morning in the Cage
Cody woke to a sharp kick in the ribs. His body ached like after a week-long army drill, but there was no sergeant barking orders, no smell of barracks; only the stench of sweat, piss, and shit mixed with the metallic tang of raw fear. He lay naked on the bare concrete floor beside a dozen other naked slaves packed around him. Gray morning light filtered through the bars overhead. Beside him, Jax breathed heavily; the skinny nineteen-year-old with the mop of dark hair who had pressed against him last night for warmth. Cody instinctively scooted away, then felt the thick leather collar bite into his throat when he moved, and suddenly he wanted that warmth back.
“Hey, kid, quit snoring,” a hoarse voice rasped from the left. Cody turned his head. A bald slave in his forties, body crisscrossed with old whip scars, sat hugging his knees. “Market’s waiting. Wake up, bitches, or the overseers’ll hose us awake and I ain’t freezing my balls off because of fresh meat.”
Jax stirred, eyes swollen and red. Nineteen years old, built like a rail, but even soft the cock swinging between his legs looked like a horse’s; thick, heavy, veined. Cody had noticed it last night in the dark, and something hot and shameful had twisted in his gut. “Fuck… where am I?” Jax mumbled, sitting up and looking around. The rest of the slaves were dragging themselves upright too: young guys like them, a couple older bulls, one with steel rings through his tits. In the next cage the mares huddled, all collared, all naked, bodies bruised and scratched.
“Slave market, puppy,” the forty-year-old snorted, picking at his ear. “Third time they’ve dragged my ass here. I know the drill. Don’t struggle, fresh meat. You wanna get sold? Show the goods. Twist, bend, stroke that cock if they tell you to. Stare at the bitches if you need to get hard. Keep your mouth shut unless you’re begging ‘please, Master, buy me.’ They love humiliated young studs.” He grinned, lazily tugging his own dick. “Humiliate yourselves, boys; or you rot here.”
Cody clenched his fists. In the army he’d obeyed; sergeant screams, you run, salute, do it. That had always justified everything: “I’m a soldier, I follow orders.” But this… The army had sold him out after one stupid bar fight, the only time he’d ever snapped. Bastards. He chewed on that hate every night: “I served, I was good, I did everything those fucks wanted.” Now he just wanted to survive. No more rebellion. He wanted a fair master who’d protect him. Jax sat beside him, eyes burning with rage. “We’re not animals,” he whispered. “We don’t beg like dogs.”
“You will beg, kid,” the scarred slave with the tit rings laughed. “You’re not running anywhere. This is your life now. On the block you spread your ass, lift your cock, show your hole. We’re livestock. Even those” — he jerked his chin at the overseers — “even those brain-fried dogs think we’re trash. First owner fucked me every night till he got bored, stretched me wide. Second was a farmer; hauled loads all day, stretched my balls till they hang like this. Now third time on the block. Probably end up as a draft mule… or dog food. But you pretty young bulls? Tight holes? You’ll sell fast.”
Jax curled up, knees to chest, trying to hide that monster cock. Cody felt ice crawl down his spine; still a virgin at twenty, fuck, nobody better find out. “Fucking hate them all,” he thought, glaring at the old slave. Broken old whore. But he kept it locked behind calm eyes.
The others started whispering. A kid with a shoulder tattoo, voice shaking: “I saw it yesterday… guy didn’t sell in a week. They called him unsellable trash. Nailed him to the platform right there. Blood ran between the planks… he was still breathing when they dragged him to the pit, eyes wide open… Work it, boys, smile till your teeth fall out, or they recycle you.”
Jax swallowed hard, throat burning. “My own parents sold me for debts… like a fucking dog.” He’d decided fast: he wasn’t going to fight. If he was a slave now, he’d be the best damn slave, give body and soul to his master, no pain, no rebellion. He just wanted to be led down that path without the whip.
“Wanna live? You’ll bend over like a bitch,” the old slave rhymed, reading Jax’s thoughts. Jax shuddered.
Overseers approached with food; same collared slaves, but wearing leather shorts, crossed chest harnesses, whips on their belts. “Line up, whores!” the redheaded one growled, slamming tin bowls of slop onto the floor. Cody gritted his teeth and crawled forward. Hunger won.
He couldn’t help staring at Jax on all fours, completely exposed, that huge cock dangling as he lapped at the mush like it was his last meal.
“Eat up, puppies!” the redhead laughed, kicking one bowl so slop splashed across the concrete. “Masters want strong meat, not skeletons! Lick it clean, bitch!”
The stink of piss and shit now mixed with sour gruel. Slaves slurped noisily. A drop landed on Jax’s cock; Cody almost choked and buried his face deeper in his own bowl.
From the girls’ cage came a scream. Overseers yanked out a young one, bruises on her thighs. “Rebelled yesterday, cunt? Time to calm you down!” They threw her to the ground. She fought to her knees, tits swaying, shaved pink slit flashing. The whip cracked; across her breasts, leaving a red stripe. She moaned, bit her lip, tears rolling, but swallowed the scream.
“Look at this bitch,” the second overseer snarled, shoving three fingers straight into her cunt from behind. “Flow for us, slut. Shame we’re not allowed to fuck garbage like you.”
She jerked, sweat shining, nipples hard from pain. Another lash across her thighs. She tried to arch away, but the fingers rammed deeper, cunt visibly wet now.
Jax stared; and his horse cock started swelling, thickening, head turning dark red. “Fuck… what’s wrong with me?” he thought, burning with shame and something new. He tried to cover it with his hand; too late. Cody saw the fat shaft rising and something hot and confused stirred in his gut again. He swallowed and looked away, horrified. “No. I’m not like that. It’s just fear.”
The old slave noticed and slapped Jax’s cock hard. “Easy, kid! Save that hard-on for the block. You’ve got a prize cock; buyers will love it, but you gotta raise it on command.”
Jax flinched; the cock bounced even higher, a confusing jolt of pleasure-pain shooting through him. “Why does it feel… good?” He hated everyone in that moment; the overseers, the broken old slave, himself.
Cody kept eating, thoughts racing: “Bastards sold me like trash. I obeyed in the army, I’ll obey here. Survive. But that wench… fingered like a rag. Fuck them. I’ll find a master who protects his property.”
The overseers kept beating the girl; her moans turned to howls, juices running down her thighs. Most slaves looked away and slurped, only the fresh meat stole ashamed glances.
Suddenly a roar: “Enough eating! Up, you motherfuckers! Wash and to the platform!”
Slaves were herded in groups toward the far wall.
“Bend over, cunts!” the redhead barked.
Veterans dropped to all fours by themselves, asses high, heads down; dull obedience in their eyes.
An overseer shoved Cody forward. “Ass up, whore!” A cold rubber hose rammed into his virgin hole without warning. “Take it, bitch, gotta be clean for sale.”
Water blasted inside; barely warm. Everything inside clenched. Cody squeezed his eyes shut, teeth grinding. Cold and burning at once. Then the hose yanked out; dirty water gushed down his legs, over his balls. His cock shriveled to a tiny nub, head hiding like it wanted to crawl back inside. The wet collar chafed. He felt like an open sewer pipe being flushed for inspection.
Beside him Jax whimpered, shaking. The hose twisted inside him; the overseer deliberately fucking him with it “to clean deeper.” That long horse cock swung between his thighs, half-hard from cold and shame, head glistening. Jax bit his lip bloody. Cody suddenly felt a stab of pity for the humiliated kid, brushed his hand; then jerked away.
The old slave stood calm, water running over hairy chest, low-hanging balls, ancient scars. He even spread his cheeks wider without being told.
Cody hated every second: the pressure inside, the laughter, his helplessness. But deep down the old army reflex whispered: “Endure. Not worse than field hosing. Hold on, soldier. Survive.”
Cold water lashed, washing away dirt, blood, old cum, sweat. Slaves squealed and howled, asses red, cocks shrinking to pathetic stubs, clits hard little peas, spread slits shining like they’d just been fucked.
Cody stood hands behind head as ordered. The jet hit his chest, his big virgin cock, the shrunken head, balls drawn up tight like they wanted to hide. Jax shook beside him, monster cock shriveled but still heavy, water dripping from under his sack. The old slave took it without flinching, wet hairy tits gleaming, balls swinging low.
“Move, trash!” the redhead laughed, blasting the hose. “Masters like clean meat. Spread those holes, boys!”
Cody hated every second; water in his eyes, ice in his balls, soaked collar. But army showers had been the same; line up, freeze your ass off. “I obey like a soldier.” Jax trembled, shame eating him alive: “They see everything and laugh. I’m goods, but… I’ll survive.”
Washing ended. Overseers lined them up: “March, cattle! To the block!”
Naked chain shuffled through corridors past empty cages and cages still full of human livestock. Cody walked behind Jax, staring at the skinny back, trying not to lose the only familiar face; and that huge cock that for some reason wouldn’t leave his mind. The old slave was led the other way. Ahead; light, fresh air, the market, their new fate.
“Hold on, kid,” Cody whispered to Jax’s back.
Jax nodded without turning.
They marched into their personal hell, wet, shivering, thinking they were ready. Two virgin young bulls, water still dripping from their holes, led out to the platform. Sunlight blinded them. Jax took one step forward and spread his legs a little wider than ordered. Cody noticed; and did the same.
Two collared virgin studs, wet, exposed, stepping into the rest of their lives.
To be continued..
