By Jackson Amacher

From the basement, all Dylan could hear was the thumping of the music and the noises of the party. He looked around the basement and tried to memorize where he was, everything around him.

Things grew quiet upstairs, suddenly. Dylan thought he heard a cheer. Then he heard the basement door. Slow footsteps came down the stairs.

“What’s up, slave,” Rex said.

Dylan grunted through his gag in response.

Rex was wearing the full Red uniform, casually drinking from a beer. He set the beer down on the floor near Dylan’s ankle cuffs.

Rex stared at Dylan’s naked, helpless body for a moment. Then he reached out to Dylan’s right nipple, and began tickling it, softly.

“This is how it was meant to be. You, a slave; owning nothing, wearing nothing, no choice in who sees you, no choice in who fucks you. And me, your master. You might think that your current situation is the product of just dumb luck on my part, or maybe the product of cheating. But you’d be wrong, slave,” Rex said.

Rex stopped tickling Dylan’s nipple and let his finger slowly slide around to Dylan’s back, then down to his butt.

“All that this competition has done is wash away our artificial civilized natures and revealed our true selves, like a hose turned on mud covering a beautiful statue. It’s purifying. It never made sense that you’d have freedom, independence from my will. All that competition between us was so wasteful. You ought to have recognized, early on, that you should simply serve me,” Rex said.

Rex walked over to a shelf and got a bottle of lube, then began pulling Dylan’s ass cheeks apart.

“You were meant to be my slave, Dylan. That’s always been the truth. That truth came through when I got first place on the captain exam and you got fourth. That truth came through when you found yourself obediently stripping naked in a parking lot in front of the entire senior class. Trust me, if this exercise hadn’t enslaved you, something else would have,” Rex said.

As Rex spoke, he worked lube into Dylan’s hole, pressing deeper and deeper. Then Rex stood in front of Dylan and stared at his naked body. He unzipped his uniform trousers and took out his own cock. It had started erect, and with a minute of stroking it became completely hard.

Rex walked behind Rick and gently placed a hand on his shoulders.

“Bend forward, as far as you can go, slave,” he said.

The feeling was totally unlike what Dylan was expecting; a rich pleasurable fullness. Not an angry, aggressive fuck, like he had given Ernie, but a slow, gentle, yet powerful and assertive fuck.

“This is a favor to you, slave. You’ll remember this. You’ll remember how much pleasure it brings you to be my property,” Rex said.

Dylan remembered what Mark had said and put the tip to practice. Dylan’s mind was racing with a thousand thoughts. Why was he enjoying this? Why wasn’t he more pissed off at Rex?

“So much planning, slave. The budgeting. Researching the bus route. Identifying a cop who would accept a bribe. Negotiating a sale price for… You have no idea, the work I’ve done for— augh!,” Rex said, crying out at the end.

For Dylan the sex was a mixture of pleasure and pain, and after Dylan withdrew the pain became stronger and his humiliation even greater. Gasping for air through his gag, his wrists still cuffed behind his back and his legs still shackled wide to the floor, Dylan felt lower than he ever had before.

Rex put his cock away and zipped up.

“Did you like that, slave? You can be honest. Nod yes or no,” Rex said.

Dylan nodded yes.

Rex trotted up the stairs and opened the door up there.

“Guys, get down here,” he ordered.

Rex was now joined by the other Reds, including Mark, who had been friends with Dylan before today. They were accompanied by Colton. Colton was still rock-hard; Daniel’s leather cock ring made sure of that.

The Reds were laughing at Dylan, seeing him still stripped and helplessly trussed up.

“It’s truly this slave’s lucky day. First, he had the honor of me taking his cherry. And now, he’s going to get fucked by the guy with the biggest cock in class. Slave, get over here,” Rex said, motioning to Colton.

Trembling with fear, Colton descended the stairs. Shy Colton, who didn’t even like to take his shirt off to run or mow the lawn, was naked and the center of attention of a room full of leering guys. His cock, which he now understood to be massive, ached with pain at being forced to be so erect for so long.

Laughter and cheers erupted as Colton, reluctantly, walked toward the center of the room. The Reds all knew Colton well. Knew how modest, shy, and conservative he was. For it to be him who had to fuck a guy on command, with an audience, heightened the pleasure even more.

“Get going, slave,” Rex ordered.

Colton did not know what do to. Colton had never fucked a guy before. Colton was terrified to have his first time here, with an audience.

But Colton concentrated. He pressed his cock between Dylan’s butt cheeks, realized he was off course, and lowered himself. Then he found Dylan’s hole, and began pressing in.

The Reds laughed, laughed some more, and were all practically crying with hysteria. It was incredible for them to see Dylan, the biggest man of big men on campus, being fucked by the biggest cock on campus.

At first Colton felt intense humiliation at having to do something so private in front of so many people. But that feeling receded, and Colton focused on the work at hand. Colton was surprised that he didn’t feel much. Probably, it was because he wasn’t deep enough in? Colton pressed in further, and further.

Dylan cried out in pain, muffled by his gag. The Reds were cheering Colton on now. Dylan had been friends to some of them, rivals to most of them. But now he was their entertainment.

Dylan, though, found himself actually enjoying it. He felt, keenly, the sense of humiliation of being used like this in front of his friends. But he realized now that part of him wanted this. And the feeling of Colton’s huge cock pushing into him was a new, delightful sense of pleasure and pain at the same time.

But, at the same time, Dylan looked at his friends laughing at him, and burned for revenge.

“Please, sir! Please… I’m ready to cum. Please let me take this thing off,” Colton said to Rex.

Rex smiled.

“Your pleasure isn’t my concern, slave. It suits my purpose for you to remain erect,” Rex said.

The fucking continued for a few more minutes.

“Now,” Rex said.

Two Reds grabbed Colton’s hips and pulled him backwards. Colton collapsed onto the floor, his dick slapping up to hit his chest. Exhausted, Colton half-sat, half-fell down onto the floor.

The Reds were cheering and laughing. Colton was filled with humiliation and regret. He hated his slavery now, more than ever. He hated the leering eyes staring at his naked body. He hated being turned into an object just because he was born with a big cock. Colton hung his head in shame, avoiding all eye contact.

“You’ve served your purpose, slave. Get back to the prison camp,” Rex said to Colton.

Panting and sweating, and still greased with Daniel’s baby oil, Colton stood and began to leave.

“But slave,” Rex said, “that strap stays on your balls until you are ordered to remove it. And, stay naked. It’s simply unfair to jock straps to ask them to restrain that massive thing.”

Colton hung his head, quietly furious, walked up the stairs, and closed the door.

Rex put his arm around Dylan’s helpless shoulders.

“Mark? You were friends with this slave, right?,” Rex asked.

“I knew him well, Supreme Leader, before you came along,” Mark said.

“You guys ever fuck?,” Rex asked.

The guys in the room laughed at that.

“No, Supreme Leader,” Mark said, laughing.

“Get over here,” Rex said.

More laughter as Mark, smiling, joined Rex, Dylan, and Colton in the center of the room.

“Now is your chance, Mark. Fuck him,” Rex said.

“Yes, Supreme Leader– uh, you mean, right now?,” Mark said.

“Of course. Why give him time to recover?,” Rex asked.

Mark knew what he had to do. He unzipped his fly and took out his cock, holding most of it in his hand so that the others couldn’t see, and started stroking it to make it hard enough to penetrate.

“No, Mark, that’s not how you do it! Take off your clothes, first!,” Rex said.

Mark laughed at first, but then realized his Supreme Leader was serious.

“Come on, Mark, you aren’t shy, are you?,” asked one of the Reds.

Slowly, Mark took off his shirt. He paused, hoping Rex would tell him he could stop. But Rex just stared at him, coldly.

Mark saw the other Reds laughing, though they were trying to hide it, covering their mouths with their hands.

Mark bent his legs up, one by one, and removed his shoes and socks. Stalling for time, a bit, he rolled his socks and put them inside.

Then Mark had to keep going. He unbuttoned his pants and unzipped his fly and pulled them down, revealing black boxer briefs.

At this point someone whistled. Mark blushed. Mark was a Red, one of them. The top of the totem pole. It was insane for Rex to humiliate him this way.

Quickly, Mark got it over with. He pulled his underwear down, and stepped behind Dylan, jacking himself off slightly in an effort to get hard.

“Wait a second. Let’s up the difficulty level for you, Mark. Using your hands would be too easy. Here, Mark, try these on,” Rex said.

Rex handed Mark a pair of handcuffs.

“But he’s already cuffed,” Mark said.

“Put them on, Mark. Behind your back,” Rex ordered.

“Rex– what did I do–?,” Mark asked.

But Rex cut him off by raising one finger.

Mark cuffed himself behind his back.

“Lock his ankles to the floor, next to his friend, here,” Rex ordered.

The Reds obeyed Rex, latching Mark to the floor.

Rex stared at Mark. The sight of Mark naked and handcuffed turned him on more than anything he’d seen all two days. It wasn’t that Mark was gorgeous naked. He looked fine naked, though he didn’t have anything on Dylan or on that swim team hottie who was crawling around upstairs like a dog. It was the humiliation in Mark’s face, the delicious sight of a powerful man suddenly being stripped of dignity, the sense that Mark was on the edge, begging, begging Rex not to do what he feared was about to happen.

“Supreme Leader, I beg of you–,” Mark began.

But the Supreme Leader placed a ball gag into Mark’s mouth and fastened it shut.

Rex slowly walked a circle around both Mark and Dylan, two naked men, now identically bound and gagged next to each other.

“Men, look at these two. Can you tell, from looking at them, which is the slave, and which is a master? They’re both pitiful, helpless, chained up, powerless. Right?,” Rex said.

“Right,” the Reds said.

“And yet, Mark here has a huge advantage over his enslaved friend. Because though Mark is naked and completely helpless, he’s one of us! He’s a Red, and the pathetic fuck-slave next to him is a lowly White! He’s a Red because he loves his Supreme Leader!,” Rex shouted.

“Right!,” the Reds said.

Rex put his arm across Mark’s shoulders.

“Had you scared there, didn’t I, Mark?,” Rex asked.

Mark nodded, looking relieved.

“Just a little fun. Let’s get you dressed,” Rex said.

Rex picked Mark’s discarded pants up off the floor. Staring directly at Mark, not at the pants, Rex turned them upside down. Rex still stared at Mark when he heard the metallic clang of a key hitting the concrete floor.

“Only, the thing is, Mark has been collaborating with his friend, Dylan the fuck-slave,” Rex said.

Mark started protesting into his gag, shifting from side to side.

Rex bent down, picked up the key, and showed it to the whole room.

“Mark had a restraining bolt key. He was planning on giving it to his friend, here. So that his friend could free his fellow Whites, and lead a revolt against us,” Rex said.

Mark violently shook his head “no.” But his fate was cast.

From a shelf Rex took a small cardboard box. When the Reds saw it, they started laughing and clapping. Mark got even louder in his protests through the gag.

Rex opened the box and removed a restraining bolt. He looked Mark in the eyes, reached down, and snapped the thing around Mark’s balls.

Dylan remembered the sound it made when his was attached to him: a click, followed by a ratchet, followed by a final, loud, click.

Mark screamed and started crying.

“Men, I hate having to do this. But for betraying us, I had no choice. Mark is no longer a Red. Mark is a slave. But Mark won’t be wearing the jock strap. He’ll be a White,” Rex said.

The other Reds laughed and clapped. Mark hung his head.

“Mark will work fifteen hours a day. Mark will clean the latrines with his hands, carrying the muck by himself. Mark will eat last, after every other slave has eaten. Mark will sleep outdoors, on a bed of rocks, tied between two trees. And Mark will be a designated fuck-slave. Blues can fuck him whenever they want. Even Whites will be allowed to fuck him, when they work especially hard and are due a reward. I’m sure the prospect of fucking an ex-Red will turn them all on,” Rex said.

The Reds were now forcing themselves to laugh, Dylan could tell. They were almost as terrified by this as Mark was.

“Someone go get the livery stable slave, have him complete Mark’s enslavement, and take him to the prison camp,” Rex said.

The Red who was standing closest to the stairs, a guy named Hugh, walked up the stairs to go get Daniel. But when he reached the top of the stairs, the door wouldn’t open. He pulled the handle and jiggled the door but it rested firmly in position. Hugh pounded on the door.

“Open up!,” Hugh shouted.

The lights went off in the basement, plunging Dylan and the six Reds into darkness.

It was the beginning of summer. But they heard the furnace in the basement rumble on, and felt the unwelcome hot air.

With horror, Rex realized what had just happened to them. What an idiot he had been—

Colton’s voice came through the door.

“Welcome to prison, Reds.”

In the darkness, the Reds shouted in confusion. But Dylan, no longer bent over from his fucking, laughed and laughed through his gag.

To be continued …

Metal would like to thank Jackson Amacher for sharing this story!