Hazing & Oscar
The cell light flickered on at dawn, jolting me awake with a groan that pulled at the scabbed welts on my back. Kai's arm draped over my waist, his cock soft against my thigh from the night's exhausted tangle, but the door buzzed before I could savour the warmth. Guards burst in—Jax this time, with a burly partner named Ruiz—yanking us apart. 'Hazing day for the newbie,' Jax barked, hauling me to my feet. My legs wobbled, feet still raw from yesterday's whipping, but resistance earned a sharp prod from his baton to my ribs.
Kai shot me a grim look, mouthing 'breathe through it' as they dragged him off to the beach again. I stumbled naked down the corridor, the island's humid air clinging to my skin, past cells where muffled cries echoed. The hazing yard was an open concrete pad ringed by palms, the centrepiece a wooden stockade: two upright beams with a hinged plank between, holes for neck and wrists, the base angled to force the body bent double, ass thrust out and head low.
They shoved me forward at 8:55, rough hands forcing my neck into the groove, wrists locked beside it with a heavy click. The plank slammed down, pinning me immobile—spine arched, face at crotch level for anyone standing, my ass cheeks spread slightly by the posture, hole exposed to the breeze. My cock dangled uselessly between my spread thighs, balls hanging heavy, the vulnerability hitting like a gut punch. 'Nine sharp,' Jax said, slapping my flank. 'Guards' plaything till six. Suck, fuck, punish, whatever—your job's to take it.' He laughed, walking off as the clock tower chimed.
The first taker arrived minutes later: Harlan from yesterday's whipping practice, uniform pants unzipped, his thick cock already half-hard and veined, slapping my cheek. 'Open up, fresh meat.' I parted my lips, tongue out, and he thrust in deep, salty pre-cum coating my mouth as he gripped the stocks for leverage. He fucked my face steady, balls smacking my chin with each pump, grunting as my throat constricted around his girth. 'Tight little mouth—better than the whores back home.' He held my head still, ramming until he swelled, then unloaded hot spurts down my gullet, forcing me to swallow every drop before pulling out with a wet pop, cum dribbling from my lips.
No break—Voss next, the precise one, circling behind instead. He spat on my hole, fingers probing rough to spread me, then lined up his cock, thicker than Harlan's, and shoved in without mercy. The burn stretched me wide, my muffled yelp vibrating against the wood as he bottomed out, hips slapping my ass cheeks. He pounded hard, one hand fisting my hair through the stocks, the other slapping my balls to make me clench. 'Squeeze it, slave—milk me dry.' I did, ass tightening involuntarily around his shaft, drawing his groans until he buried deep and flooded my guts with cum, pulling out to let it leak down my thighs.
Word spread fast; by ten, a rotation formed. Mills, the nervous rookie, made me suck him tentatively at first, cock twitching as my lips sealed around it, but he gained speed, face-fucking me sloppy, tears streaming as he choked me on his length. Then Reyes from the whips, bending low to force his dick past my gag reflex, holding till I sputtered, only to ram again. 'Learn to deepthroat, boy—saves your ass some wear.' Cum after cum—swallowed, or sometimes spat on my face when they pulled out laughing.
Midday heat baked my bent form, sweat stinging the welts on my back, muscles cramping from the unyielding pose. A senior guard, broad and bearded, dragged over a work slave—some lean kid from the kitchens, cock already stiff from orders. 'Suck him off while I watch.' The kid's dick slid into my mouth, hesitant thrusts turning eager as the guard stroked himself, barking 'faster' until the kid bucked and shot down my throat. Then the guard flipped me to anal, fucking me raw while the kid stood by, spent and shamed.
Afternoon blurred into a haze of use: three guards at once, two in my mouth alternating thrusts while the third reamed my ass, their cocks stretching me to the limit, cum mixing inside me till it squelched with every plunge. Another time, they ordered Kai—pulled fresh from the beach, sand still gritty on his skin—to fuck me. His eyes met mine briefly, apologetic, as he mounted from behind, cock sliding easy into my slick hole. He thrust deep, hips grinding, but the watching guards made him go harder, slapping his ass till he groaned and filled me, pulling out to reveal the creamy drip.
By four, my jaw ached, throat raw, ass a throbbing, cum-soaked mess—leaking steadily, cheeks red from slaps, hole gaping slightly when they weren't buried in it. Tyler joined late, making me rim him first, tongue delving into his musky crack while he jerked off, then flipping to fuck my mouth till he painted my tonsils white. 'Hazing's breaking you in nice—Master'll love the sloppy seconds.' Laughter echoed as they rotated, cocks of all sizes—curved, straight, pierced—claiming holes till I lost count, body reduced to a vessel for their relief.
Six o'clock tolled like salvation. The stocks creaked open, my limbs numb as they hauled me upright, knees buckling. Cold hose water blasted from a high-pressure nozzle—freezing jets scouring my skin, blasting cum from my ass and face, the shock making me gasp and shiver violently. They scrubbed rough with a stiff brush, soap burning my raw spots, rinsing till I dripped clean but chilled to the bone, teeth chattering.
Dripping and shivering, they marched me to the main house, a sprawling villa overlooking the sea. Master Raymond waited in his study, seated behind a mahogany desk, shirt open to reveal tanned chest, eyes sharp as he gestured me forward. Naked and trembling, I stood before him, guards flanking. He rose, circling slow, gloved hand tilting my chin to inspect my bruised lips, then parting my cheeks to probe my sore hole—fingers dipping in to feel the looseness. 'Well used,' he murmured, satisfied, withdrawing to wipe on a cloth.
Officer Lane handed over the tablet. Raymond scrolled the report—whippings, inspections, today's hazing tally: twenty loads taken, half oral, half anal, plus the ordered slave uses. 'Progress solid,' he said, voice smooth. 'Endurance building, obedience noted. No major infractions.' He nodded, decision made. 'Reassign him. Cell 7 with Oscar—my nephew's due company. Keep him motivated.'
They led me out, the cold water's chill fading into evening warmth, to a quieter wing of the barracks. Cell 7 was similar—two bunks, sink, but with personal touches: books stacked neat, a small radio humming jazz. The door opened to Oscar: mid-twenties, lean and toned like a swimmer, dark hair tousled, naked as me but with a casual grace, cock semi-hard swinging as he turned from the mirror.
'Ethan, right?' His voice was warm, accented faintly—family ties showing in the easy confidence. Guards locked the door and left, leaving us alone. He stepped close, eyes tracing my marks—the fading welts, the hazing flush on my skin. 'Rough first days. Uncle Ray's thorough.' His hand brushed my arm, gentle, then trailed down to cup my balls, thumb stroking my softening cock. 'Get acquainted proper? Lie back—I'll make it feel good.'
I nodded, sinking onto the bunk, legs parting as he knelt between them. His mouth enveloped my cock warm and skilled, tongue lapping the underside while fingers teased my hole, still tender. He sucked deep, humming approval as I hardened, hand joining to stroke the base. 'Taste the day on you,' he murmured, popping off to lick my balls, then back up, bobbing faster till I arched, spilling into his throat with a shudder. He swallowed, grinning up. 'Welcome to the cell, roommate.
I sat up a little taken aback at the reception from Oscar. I asked about Raymond being his uncle.
‘Yes, the motherfucker is my uncle. Took me into slavery two years ago just because he likes my body. I went through hell my first week here. Raymond had to prove that he would not show me any mercy. The bastard whipped the shit out of me. My feet, my back beaten so badly the medics were quite concerned. I was no more than a piece of meat to him. I still have nightmares about the first time he rammed his cock down my throat and fucked me. I was his favourite nephew but not because he loved me but rather, he wanted me as his slave. He wanted to see me submit, to have me kissing his feet, worshipping him. Now, I suppose I really am his slave, two years of service and no sign of him showing me any mercy, not that I would accept it anymore. I am sorry if I came over too eager, I just wanted to help. I know how you feel Ethan. You feel lost, hopeless and powerless. You are right, you are, in so many ways. But there is always hope. The one piece of advice I can give you is to accept your slavery. You are owned; you belong to Raymond. Lay low, work hard, avoid being a slave that that is always getting whipped and beaten. Serve with humility and always be obedient and take your punishments without struggle when you get things wrong. Then your hope of freedom will come true. You have a nice body Ethan and you are a good fuck. You will be a favourite sex toy for the guards. So, watch yourself.’
Oscar shook my hand, I gave him a hug and we settled down for our first chat over a coffee. It was then that Oscar told me that we had both been allocated to be the only two slaves working tomorrow. We were on service duty for Master Raymond while everyone else enjoyed a Sunday free from work.
The cell door buzzed open at first light, pulling me from a deep sleep tangled with Oscar's limbs. His cock pressed soft against my hip, our bodies slick from the humid night, but the intruding guard—Reyes this time—snapped us alert. 'You two, Sunday duty. Master's villa, now.' Oscar stirred with a resigned sigh, his eyes meeting mine in the dim glow. No surprise for him, family ties or not, but my gut twisted. Rest day for the others—locked away, safe from the grind—but us? Serving Raymond all day, naked and exposed as always.
We shuffled out barefoot, the concrete cool under my soles, still tender from past whippings. The path to the villa wound through palms, morning sun filtering gold on our skin, cocks swinging free as we walked. No words from Reyes; he just prodded us forward with his baton if we slowed. The villa loomed white and sprawling, ocean breeze carrying salt and hibiscus. Inside, cool marble floors chilled my feet, and Raymond waited in the atrium, lounging in a wicker chair, robe loose over his muscled frame, a coffee steaming beside him.
'Ethan, Oscar—perfect.' His voice rolled smooth, eyes raking us both, lingering on my fresh marks from hazing, then Oscar's smoother form. 'Fetch my breakfast. Kitchen's that way. Move.' We hurried, bare feet padding silent, finding the spread: fruits, eggs, fresh bread. Oscar loaded a tray steady-handed; I balanced juices, our cocks brushing thighs as we worked. Back in the atrium, we knelt to serve—me holding the plate while he plated bites, Raymond's fingers grazing my arm as he took a mango slice, juice dripping to his chest.
'Clean that,' he ordered, pointing. Oscar leaned in first, tongue lapping the sticky trail down Raymond's sternum, lips sucking gently at the skin. My turn next—he guided my head, my mouth tracing the path, tasting salt and fruit on his warm flesh. His hand fisted my hair, holding me close as I licked lower, tongue flicking his navel. 'Good boys. Now, massage my shoulders while I eat.' We flanked him, hands kneading firm muscle through the robe, thumbs digging into knots. He sighed approval, robe slipping open to bare his chest, cock stirring half-hard against the fabric.
Morning bled into tasks: carrying linens to his bedroom, folding them neat while he watched, then oiling his skin as he stretched on the balcony. Barefoot on the warm wood, we worked in tandem—me rubbing his calves, Oscar his thighs—fingers sliding slick up legs, brushing his balls when he spread wide. 'Deeper,' he commanded, and Oscar's hand cupped his sack, massaging gentle rolls while I stroked inner thighs, our own cocks twitching at the proximity. He hardened fully under our touch, thick shaft curving up, pre-cum beading at the tip. 'Suck it clean, Ethan.' I bent low, mouth enveloping the head, tongue swirling the slit to lap the salt, then taking him deeper, cheeks hollowing as I bobbed. Oscar continued the massage, fingers teasing Raymond's hole lightly, drawing a low groan that vibrated through me.
By noon, heat built, and he led us to the poolside cabana—shaded lounger, towels spread. 'Entertain me. Oscar, fuck Ethan slow—let me watch.' My pulse raced as Oscar positioned me on all fours, ass up toward Raymond's gaze. He spat on his cock, stroking it rigid, then pressed the blunt head to my hole, pushing in steady. The stretch burned sweet, his girth filling me inch by inch till his hips met my cheeks. He thrust deliberate, pulling almost out before sliding deep, balls slapping my taint. Raymond stroked himself lazy, eyes locked on the join—my hole gripping Oscar's shaft, slick sounds filling the air. 'Harder—make him take it.' Oscar obeyed, pace quickening, one hand pinning my shoulder, the other reaching to jerk my cock in rhythm. I moaned around the fullness, body rocking, until Oscar tensed and pumped hot cum inside me, flooding deep. He pulled out slow, seed leaking down my thighs, and Raymond beckoned. 'Your turn to clean.' I crawled to him, tongue delving into Oscar's spent cock, lapping our mixed juices, then back to rim Raymond's ass as he demanded, probing the musky ring while Oscar sucked him off.
Afternoon shifted to lighter service: fanning him with palm fronds as he read by the pool, our arms aching but steady, sweat beading on bare skin. Bare feet planted firm on the tile, cocks semi-hard from the exposure. He called for drinks next—fetching chilled rum from the bar, kneeling to hold the glass to his lips, ice clinking as he sipped. 'Spill a drop, and you'll lick it off the floor.' None did, but the threat hung, my tongue ready. Then, a whim: 'Whip play, boys. Oscar, take the crop—give Ethan's ass ten. Make them count.'
Oscar's face tightened—nephew or not, no favouritism—but he fetched the leather crop from a side table, supple and stinging. I bent over the lounger, ass presented, cheeks clenching in wait. The first crack landed sharp across my right globe, fire blooming instant. 'One,' I gasped, voice steady. He swung again, left side matching, the snap echoing. 'Two.' Raymond watched avid, cock in hand, directing 'Lower—hit the thighs.' Lashes four through seven striped my sit-spots and upper legs, welts rising hot, tears pricking my eyes. Eight and nine crisscrossed the centre, my hole twitching exposed. The tenth landed full on the crease, jolting me forward with a yelp. 'Ten, sir.' Raymond nodded, pulling me onto his lap. 'Good. Now ride me—earn the rest.'
Straddling him, I sank down on his cock, the thickness splitting me wide, cum from earlier easing the way. He gripped my hips, guiding the bounce—up slow, down hard—my ass slapping his thighs, prostate grinding with each drop. Oscar knelt besides, ordered to lick where we joined, tongue flicking my stretched rim and Raymond's balls. The dual assault built fast; I rode frantic, cock leaking on his abs, until Raymond thrust up deep and erupted, cum pulsing hot into my guts. I followed seconds later, spurting ropes across his chest without touch, body shuddering.
Dusk cooled the air as service wound down: bathing him in the outdoor shower, soaping his body reverent—hands gliding over cock and ass, rinsing clean. Then drying with towels, soft and careful, barefoot on wet stone. He dismissed us with a wave, sated. 'Solid day. Back to cells—rest up.' Reyes escorted us silent through twilight, the path now shadowed, my ass throbbing from crop and fucks, cum still warm inside.
In the cell, door locking behind, Oscar pulled me close. 'Survived it, sorry I had to beat you' he murmured, hand soothing my welts. We collapsed together, bodies spent, the island's rhythm pausing till dawn. Sunday service—relief for some, relentless for us—but in the ache, a twisted bond formed, bare skin to skin.
