By Taurus

Chapter 1 – You’re Paying

“Oh Gage, you’re getting punished today – some millionaire is losing their shit today and you’re paying for it.”

Gage could not question the guard who jeered at him. He may weigh 223 pounds, a fearsome strongman with lush carpets reverently adorning his chin and chest, but man-fur was not the only thing stuck to him; a very powerful shock collar was too. He was completely naked, and his cock – if absent all external reference, looking like a micropenis despite the help of a steel cock ring – dangled between his legs.

He knew better – he had six inches whenever he was permitted to.

Wisely, he stomached the mocking and walked with his head straight and his hands behind his back into the competition hall where his three opponents – identically dressed as him – had been stretching. He joined them.

“Slaves, the competition starts now. Proceed to the crosses.”

The phrases coming through the speakers was like a magic spell; almost by instinct, Gage found himself backing up against a metal T protruding from the ground, threading his arms behind the rounded side bars.

Like remoras tending to a shark, an army of guards began applying bondage to Gage and all his competitors.

To fix him to the cross, his wrists were locked in steel shackles, their connecting chain running just above his navel. Leather straps were applied to the biceps and were chained to a ring at the centre of the cross, preventing him from slipping off.

Then came the “heraldry” – unnecessary ornamentation that varied from day to day, depending on the exercise and the whimsy of the guards.

An anal plug was inserted. To the tune of pained and groaning pleading, a chain was run between the ring at the base of the plug and a ring on a lower part of the cross. Nipple clamps, a blindfold, and a bit gag were supposedly the last pieces to go on, but seeing how close the slaves’ hands were to the nipple clamps, fist mitts were also applied.

Needless to say, the guards were feeling exceptionally sadistic today.

Before competitions would start, the slaves were always left in place to contemplate the humiliation of having a camera crew run rings around them. Today, no doubt they had cameras taking closeup shots that misrepresented their dick size and invited mocking for their helplessly drooling mouths.

Suddenly, there was a whip crack that perked everyone’s ears up, and sent everyone’s legs into overdrive.

Gage was blindfolded, but he could easily visualise the dead straight track he had to drag the cross along – all 100 metres of it.

The distance meant nothing, however. The mechanism could be set up in such a way that he could sprint, or in a way that simulated ploughing soil.

Today, he seemed to be ploughing through solid rock. Every step was arduous and made him wheeze and slobber through that damned silicone bar in his mouth. His competitors, having made no better progress than him, suffered similarly.

This competition was always a slog. There was no explosive excitement of a sprint of the same distance, no marvelling at human tenacity of a marathon, no colourful bling of motorsport. Without the many camera angles that focused on the erotic details of saliva and sweat and struggling muscle, and the various graphics that gave details on each slave, the ploughing event had essentially no redeeming qualities.

Taking away the glitz and glamour of having naked strongmen compete in bondage, all one would see in the hall where the event was happening was a line of four men struggling and shouting on metal crosses for no apparent reason, and some of them would move ahead if they looked away for a bit.

***

Strongmen are not built for extended exertion. Indeed, no one is, especially when chained up every which way and having water constantly drip from the mouth and every pore in the body.

To prevent overheating, Gage and his opponents were misted with water using spray bottles constantly after 20 metres, with particular care taken to get some moisture back into their mouths.

The plug was not working as a pleasant distraction anymore. It still stayed in, but Gage could barely find the sensations.

Everything hurt.

Gage tried to grit his teeth, but all he found was silicone. Still, that would do.

“Slave Yuri, 50 metres.”

Immediately after, the announcement for Gage was given – he had lost the lead, though his lead was measurable on the order of fractions of an inch, most likely.

The destination was not a good thing to focus on. If he focused on the end of the journey, every step would be torture. No, he had to win with each and every tiny step.

“Slave Alec, 50 metres.”

***

Gage’s head was spinning. He had no idea where he was.

A particularly high pitched scream came from the far left – someone had slipped on a step, most likely from the misting water that had collected on the track. Frantic sounds of wiping consequently ensued.

Rhythmic beastly grunting had given way to something that more closely resembled the whimpering of a wounded animal.

Whips cracked on everyone’s backs.

“We know you’re fine, keep pulling!”

The body was still strong, but the mind was weak.

“Slave Alec, finish!”

The unmistakable clunk of a cross reaching the end of the track spurred on a second, perhaps third, perhaps thousandth wind.

They were all similarly strong. They must be near the end too.

Gage marched on with sweat in his eyes – the seal of the blindfold having proven ineffective at around 30 metres.

Dignity and pride? Gone the moment he got chained to the cross some 90 metres ago, but the intoxicating success of a select few steps provided fleeting illusions of agency and empowerment.

He was still a strong man. He could do this.

“Slave Yuri, finish!”

Third was the lowest he could finish and not get subjected to even more punishment. The race was fixed, but he had to try anyway.

Maybe more importantly, he felt as if he would die if he had to take even more.

“Slave Arthur, finish! Slave Gage is last and does not finish pulling the plough.”

Gage’s blindfold was removed, and out of the corner of his eye – most of his vision was temporarily inoperative because of sweat – he saw that he was mere seconds from the goal.

 

Chapter 2 – Standing

“Why the long face, Gage? I did tell you you’d come last and get punished.”

Gage made no response – he was not allowed to. The punishment for coming last was to have his ass chained to the floor and being forced to take the flogger.

The expected posture was simple but not easy in the slightest; there was no bondage aside from the plug and chain. Gage was required to stand straight with his arms to his side, fists clenched, head up, eyes forward, all while getting flogged.

The first strokes were to the back and buttocks. He made no sound.

“Well, if those were any surprise we’d have to train you all over again.”

Strokes to the chest and abs resulted in barks and grunts, but no words.

“Anything we tell you to do, you’ll do, is that right, slave?”

No response – Gage looked ahead as if he were a statue.

“Respond to me. Will you do anything we tell you to?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Ejaculate in five minutes, or you get more punishment in the future.

“You may think this is impossible. That’s because it is. Now cum.”

Silence.

“Say ‘yes, sir’.”

“…yes, sir.”

***

Five minutes passed and nothing special happened. Gage was flogged, did not speak a word, and failed to cum. For his failure, a weight was tied to his balls.

“The other slaves are getting a nice cleaning. We’re even using warm water this time. But losers don’t get showers.

“Take this time and think. Next time, do better, don’t lose.”

***

“Fresh face that’s looking real tired and nervous…you don’t get punished as often as Arthur does, do you? You’ll stay here, get fed, and then we’ll take you back to the sleeping cell. Capiche?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now, hands behind your back.”

A set of leather cuffs were fastened on, though Gage was surprised to see that getting punished did not make any difference to the feedings.

The plug was removed – with some difficulty due to a drying anus – and Gage was permitted to sit for the first time in what seemed like hours, though he opted to fall forwards onto all fours instead.

“Poor thing,” said the guard, ruffling through Gage’s hair. “Wanna sit like a dog? Go ahead.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Having the physiques they did, feeding took a very long time – in the pursuit of security, the slaves were fed bite by bite of torn off food by gloved hands, and there was a lot of it to be eaten. The food was always plain, seasoned with the barest minimum of salt and sugar that only served to reach the threshold for good health.

“Why so quiet? You can tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Thank you for your care, sir.”

“Arthur tells me he feels out of place as the only slave with grey hair and such a fancy name.

“In exchange I told him this: he’s here because he’s acting as a pillar of your little family. You’re the newest here, and already you’re trying your best to make him feel loved, feel important.”

***

“What else will they do to me? I’m scared of dying.”

“There are nanobots in your bloodstream that give us lots of data about you. Most guards use it to control themselves, make sure they don’t injure you when they torture you. Others like the doctors use it to build your physique and keep you healthy.

“There’s a lot to learn about this place, Gage. First thing you should know, all I do is feed you.”

If someone became a guard here, there was no chance he was not comfortable with the idea of causing the slaves unneeded suffering. Gage knew this. Everyone knew this.

“What should I call you, sir?”

“You call guards ‘sir’. My name is something you shouldn’t know.”

…but it felt so damn good.

 

Chapter 3 – Innocence

“Sleep well. The pain continues tomorrow.”

The cell Gage was brought back to would be humane if it contained one person with access to clothing, a toilet, and a bed.

None of the above held true. In reality, the cell was nothing but a concrete box with padded walls that accommodated four slaves, all completely naked. There was no toilet – the slaves always pissed and shit on schedule – but it was not enough. One could not sleep stretched out without intruding on someone else’s space.

At least the concrete floor was gently heated.

“Gage, you’re back!”

“No, I’m sweaty…”

Alec ignored Gage’s warning, and in fact went out of his way to rub himself against Gage.

“Bring him over here,” said Arthur, who was sat in a corner.

…and at least the slaves were very okay with touching each other.

Powerless to resist, Gage fell into Arthur’s arms. More than 200 pounds of strongman was far too much for human arms to handle alone; they settled for sitting Gage up against the corner of the cell while Arthur circled an arm behind his neck. Meanwhile, Yuri rested his head on Gage, and Alec sat a small distance back, stroking Gage’s legs, which were trembling from fatigue.

“First time getting punished like that, huh? You holding up okay?”

“Arthur, they hit you and fuck you and make you suck dick, right?”

“Worse than that, but I can take it, and I feel bad for you. You get born and the first thing you learn is how you’re always going to be tied up and tortured, all because people want to see big white men in pain.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be.”

A hand reached up and stroked Gage’s beard, so luscious it was it engulfed the hand.

“You’re the youngest but you’re already thinking about old man things,” Yuri laughed, “how about we try and make you young and stupid again tonight?”

As if accepting a challenge, Gage latched onto Yuri with both his arms and fell backwards onto the floor. When he detected the faintest desire to break free, Gage clutched onto what he now decided would be his toy for the night – a giant, naked slave, with the plumpest and roundest everything and an almost Mongolian mug.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you smile.”

Gage took a moment to take stock of his face muscles. Indeed, he was smiling. It had been a very, very long time.

“Or maybe it’s this.”

Yuri tried to keep a poker face, but he started laughing along as he tickled Gage on the neck.

Gage was not releasing his catch. He tightened his python grip, even if it meant squirming and giggling uncontrollably with a slab of meat crushing him into the ground.

Then, the tickling stopped.

In front of Gage was still exactly the same Yuri that had been teasing him. Now, though, Yuri seemed more cuddly.

***

Between sniffing and stroking and gently humping against Yuri – now sitting against a wall – Gage observed Alec and Arthur, who were stretching and massaging each other.

His mind went back to Yuri’s remark.

“Youngest” here meant the equivalent of having a 35 year-old body. It meant nothing. But Yuri was right – naïveté was important.

Alec was actually bald and had wrinkles on his forehead. Yet he seemed so much more youthful, so much more spritely than himself, just from how he could forget about everything and laugh. If not for any normal reason, then just to keep himself sane.

“You smiling or frowning? I just see a big black cloud on your face, brother.”

Yuri’s words were the reminder Gage sorely needed. Summoning the last of his brattiness and taking inspiration from Alec’s cheery golden cloud, Gage pulled Yuri to the ground and snoozed away, his arm caressing Yuri’s waist.

 

Chapter 4 – Bots

There was a variety of things the slaves may see after they wake up. Most days there would just be guards who would take them to get cleaned. Some days a nurse would be there to have human confirmation – in addition to confirmation by the nanobots – that the slaves are well.

Then some days, large electronic palllets – only used to transport the slaves to and from somewhere they would never go otherwise – would accompany the guards.

Today was one of those days.

These were the stuff of myths to Gage – he had only ever heard stories from Alec that those pallets never meant anything good – but they were evidently very real.

With heavy, quickly beating hearts, the slaves submitted one by one, lying face up onto the pallets. Gage stole one final glance at his fellow slaves before he too was blindfolded and shackled spreadeagle to the corners of the pallet.

***

Like a scene change in a story, Gage awoke after what felt like mere seconds.

The blindfold was off, and he was relieved to see that his brothers were still here. Still chained to the pallets that had moved them across this facility. Prison. Hellscape. Whatever it was.

It was a room of white – white ceiling, white walls, white flooring, white coats, white trousers, white hats.

And curious machines.

Gage did not know the names of the machines, but he knew what they did. One spun vials of his blood round and round, another made an image of his insides while he was tied down in it, and another prepared vials of drugs.

All the space was fully utilised – server stacks filled every corner where there was no other machine for it.

Nurses examined the slaves, checking their temperature, eye movements, mouth dryness, and whatever else caught their interest. When it was determined that all was well, one of the nurses – Yuri’s – hollered for a guard.

“The nanobots did the job, they slept when we wanted them to.”

“Good,” replied a guard, “let’s prepare them for chastity.”

“No, please,” Arthur protested, speaking as loudly as he dared with the little strength he had accumulated across many years.

The protest was followed immediately by a blood curdling scream.

“Please sto – aaaargh!”

There was chaos in the medical ward insofar as there was a lot of noise. Not that the slaves could do anything but tug on their chains and scream as they got shocked.

Gage had not said a word, but the heinous act of protesting a guard’s decision rendered everyone punishable.

They must have removed the shock collars during their sleep and replaced them shortly before they awoke – the electrodes sat differently than before – but sweat had built up again.

Every muscle in Gage’s body contorted involuntarily during the shocks, and he wheezed – trembling – after each round.

 

Chapter 5 – Walking is Hard

There was the occasional chuckle in the gymnasium, but mostly there was just grunting as the four slaves carried on their shoulders a large metal pipe two feet in diameter – two slaves on each side.

Running along the inner wall of the pipe was a barrel an inch in diameter, in which a ball bearing was placed. Every second, it checked the slaves for any deviance from absolute perfection in balance and harmony.

“Stop!”

Gage sighed through his bit when he saw the cursed steel ball on the ground in front of the procession. Unlike a normal accelerometer, the bearing did not self-right after a correction.

Getting paddled on the ass was not so bad, but they did have to stop roughly once every 50 to 100 metres for this.

One lap down, two to go.

The pipe was not as heavy as Gage feared it might be, since it was hollow and borne aloft by four extremely strong men. Given how the exercises and punishments have been nothing short of backbreaking however, he had learnt to expect the worst.

What sucked was the bondage.

The slaves wore chastity cages made of stainless steel and most crucially, had urethral inserts. Each slave had custom cages that fit perfectly when flaccid, though flaccid was difficult to maintain when they also had vibrating anal plugs.

Gage racked his brain for the chastity training he endured before getting here – deep breaths, distracting himself with any thought other than whatever was going on, accepting the feeling of being stuffed into a tube…

None of it worked. This place had all the resources to make sure each slave got his own vibrator that stimulated his prostate. In fact, his cock felt as if it was being crushed in a vice from within and without.

And that damn bar in the mouth. Why were they always gagged?

“Uuurgh!”

Being at the back of the procession, the electric shock buckled Gage’s legs for a split second, but that was all it took for the ball bearing to roll out the back.

“Stop!”

A round of paddling for everyone.

One and a half laps left to go.

“Hmmph!”

The pipe obscured Gage’s view to the left, but he could clearly see Arthur’s legs buckling the same way his did. The ball bearing rolled forward out of the barrel very quickly.

Another stop. More paddling.

A few steps later, a growl came from in front. Alec had screamed through the pain and kept the ball bearing inside the pipe. It took unbelievable willpower, and it sure looked impressive – yet more sweat dripped from his smooth scalp.

A sense of victory washed over Gage – they could do it, end this nightmare.

…until the screaming started again, and did not stop until Alec had been brought to his knees, his left hand desperately clawing into the pipe even as he begged and panted.

“Put the pipe down.”

 

Chapter 6 – Bonding Experiences

“Don’t bother,” Arthur said to Gage, “those knee traps are stainless steel.”

Dejected, Gage rolled onto his back, his legs still just as folded up as they were a minute ago from what the guards dubbed “hobblers”; a thin, straight metal bar traps the leg against a large contoured ring that encircles the knee, locking it into a folded position. Gage’s fingers were no match for high quality steel.

“At least they gave us knee pads,” Alec muttered to himself, curled up much the same way Gage was.

Gage looked at his body; his useless legs, his inaccessible cock, his overworked muscles, his nipples pink and round and so inviting of pain. In any other world, he would grace magazine covers standing up straight and proud.

But he was right here.

Gage slowly shuffled his way over to Arthur and Yuri, who at least seemed calmer about the prospect of sleeping with folded legs. On closer inspection, Arthur was the only one coping well; Yuri being slightly bigger was the difference between crawling being an big inconvenience and borderline torture.

Gage soon realised – the only reason Yuri was sat against the wall was because it was one of only two positions he could hold without exerting himself.

“Everything will be fine,” reassured Arthur, gently tweaking Yuri’s cheek, “these should come off soon.”

Pushing off gently such that he now balanced on three points, Gage extended his one free hand and wiped away the sweat on Yuri’s brow.

“I’ll be here for you, brother.”

“And I hope you’re right.”

Arthur and Gage paused to confirm that Yuri and Alec were asleep – or perhaps passed out from sheer exhaustion by the stark reality of it all. Both had adopted a variation of the fetal position, where they spread their weight out across as much of their backs as possible, spreading wide their asses.

Things were bad enough. Morale did not need to go any lower.

***

“Did you ever…?”

“Yeah, they made me wear these for two days straight during the test run. Had guards watch me round the clock. Cancelled my workouts. Made me pull toy carts around.”

“What happened?”

“Photo sales went up but audience numbers went down, so they went back to keeping me upright. It also causes really bad cramping, but at least now we have nanobots that dose us with relaxant when we need it.”

“‘At least’? You too? This is insane.”

“What can we do? I tried saying no to the chastity, now…well.”

“Arthur, I…feel like a monster. I get here, and everyone gets punished again and again, then there’s the chastity and our legs…”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I hope I bring you a miracle, not even more torture.”

“More torture is a given. Just stay alive tonight.”

 

Chapter 7 – Rest Day

“Rest day! Aren’t you happy?”

The slaves disguised their disdain as moans of appreciation – the supremely condescending tone the guard used was one typically reserved for infants.

At least the hobblers came off – Yuri was on the verge of tears when the screws came loose. In comparison, being blindfolded and ballgagged felt downright comfortable in comparison.

Gage contemplated the mystical theory that he represented a significant change to the state of affairs – it seemed now that the electronic pallets to which slaves were chained spreadeagle were standard fare, given how the guards seemed to use them for even mundane tasks where having slaves walk would arguably be more convenient.

He had all the time in the world to think – and rest – as the pallets whirred about to the clip and clop of their escort, and even as they pulled into a noticeably more humid and warmer room.

This prison strived to objectify its prisoners as much as it could, but it relented when it came to matters of cleaning. Outside of extraordinary punishment, every area the slaves went to was cleaned up after, and the cleaning area itself used soaps and shampoos fit for a human five star hotel, albeit unscented.

It still smelled of comfort though.

Expecting to be released, Gage’s heart sank when he was moved from a supine spreadeagle on the movable pallet to a standing spreadeagle, with a limb chained to each corner of a large metal frame. A guard in latex gloves and coveralls approached with a bucket of cleaning materials – liquid soaps, shampoos, conditioners, plus a sponge with which to apply those with – and a stool.

“Alright, stay still, wouldn’t wanna get soap in your mouth…”

The cleaning process was extremely thorough, to the point of discomfort.

The first step was to remove the chastity cage. To Gage’s surprise, this was far from the ordeal he had imagined. Perhaps his urethra had adapted, perhaps the cage was simply friendlier than he thought it would be, but it did come off, if very slowly and carefully.

Gage’s body – minus the head – was hosed down. Then soap was meticulously applied – every contour, every fold, every finger, every toe, every gap between every digit, between the ass cheeks…

The guard worked silently, unfazed by Gage’s pleasured moans as he took the sponge and scrubbed down his pubic hair, his shaft, his balls, his glans…

“Mmmph!”

Cleaning was cleaning, not time for sex, even if he had a raging erection; for his thrusting Gage received a punch to the stomach.

After getting his body hosed down, it was time for a rather more delicate process. The guard removed the gag, and worked only using sponges to apply water. Specialised shampoos were used for the scalp and the beard – such was the attention to detail. A face cleanser was carefully applied onto the exposed skin.

After rinsing out all the products (with the guard holding Gage’s head down to prevent cleaning products from getting into his mouth), his anus was thoroughly cleaned out. After roughly drying him, separate conditioners were sprayed onto his hair and beard.

Finally, Gage was instructed to hold a silicone ball in his mouth.

It felt exactly like the ball gag.

“The ball comes out, your balls come off.”

“Hnngh…”

“Bored? Alright…”

This time, Gage was left constantly whimpering – the guard had given him a butt plug that shocked him at random intervals.

 

Chapter 8 – Deep Massage

Though the slaves remained in bondage as they always did, they were relieved of their chastity, thus fulfilling the promise of a “rest day”.

Until one of the guards revealed the last event on the itinerary.

“Let’s get some excitement going, slaves!”

The excitement in question involved chaining the slaves to large boards spreadeagle and gagged, just as they were for cleaning.

Gage’s heart jumped when he saw the tools the guards had wheeled out for their suffering – automated dildos.

Oh how he loved a good ass fuck.

The slaves were arranged in such a way that they stood facing each other. Gage could see the sparkle return to his brothers’ eyes; no doubt they will have observed the same for him.

“Last to cum gets punished.”

***

The fucking felt amazing, even if it was so slow and gentle that a virgin man would find comfortable.

Gage mostly just revelled in this pleasure, enjoying every moment of a rare opportunity that could very well never come again. In the few fleeting moments of sobriety, he saw only slaves gyrating their hips, trying to have that dildo dig a bit deeper – his brothers surely felt the same euphoria.

Every so often, a guard would approach, taunt them about claiming to be desperately horny when denied sex yet “refusing” to cum when provided, and leave having added some element of bondage. In order: posture collars, rope around the cock and balls, nipple clamps, and finally vibrators and tubes connected to syringes. A rope was tied around the waist, which kept the vibrator in place and made thrusting yield no benefit.

The vibrator – set to medium – signalled the beginning of the end as the slaves were pushed to orgasm. Someone was not cumming tonight.

Speak of being brothers all they want, slaves were still slaves. Sex-hungry, desperate slaves.

Slaves who cannot remember the last time they had a sanctioned orgasm.

Though at first the slaves coordinated wordlessly to keep away the orgasms (which meant more pleasure for longer), something snapped, and before they knew it, they were jiggling their clamps and sitting down on the thrusting dildo.

Imperceptibly, the dildos’ speed had been slowly increasing over the past 15 minutes or so, eventually plateauing at a typical pace for sex.

Gage drooled and sweated, but he did not care. All he wanted was to not be last.

He had moments where he was not lost in reverie, when he would look at his brothers and feel happy for them.

Those were also the moments where he lost touch with the stimulation, and he would have to at least mentally restart the process of arousal.

The four slaves, otherwise so manly and imposing, were reduced to grunting and squeaking and whining every which way, trapped like flies on films of honey, bound and abused like cheap dolls.

Gage had hardly enough time to react as he realised he was on the edge, but the machines gave him the time – the vibrator suddenly cut out for ten seconds, before reactivating at the highest setting.

Giant wads of cum, seemingly pent up since the day he was made, shot into the collection tubes. Gage tugged as his chest and abs rippled and jerked about uncontrollably, but the chains held.

The others did not envy Gage though – Gage was the unfortunate guinea pig who discovered that the stimulation would continue until the end of the session. Even if the intensity was lowered, it was still torturous, and Gage kept panting and moaning as if he still had cum to shoot.

But at least he came.

Arthur was the next to shoot. His noises were rather more intriguing during the post-cum stimulation – he let out what seemed like a mix of laughing and crying, but he eventually settled down and smiled at Gage.

Wordlessly, he seemed to celebrate that he was not the one getting punished.

Meanwhile, there was a tense battle of sorts going on along the other axis. Alec and Yuri were both trying the same technique of artificially further increasing the rate of fucking by backing onto the dildo.

Both slaves moaned in the same happy tone. Gage knew, and Gage knew Arthur knew that someone was going to be very, very frustrated.

Gage also tried his best to brush away the feeling of guilt that followed his wish to have his dildo – now stopped at as high a height as it could go – exit his ass. How dare he think this while his brothers beg for more pleasure?

Gage carefully monitored the moaning from both sides. To his right was Alec, the always cheerful golden slave. To his left was Yuri, his favourite hugging toy.

The moans grew at the same time, but the sound from the right perked his ear – it had a sharper, more desperate edge to it.

And that edge soon cut – it quickly became a cry of pain as Alec came, his cock choked by the loops of rope. Meanwhile, the moans of pleasure from the left became a protest – Yuri’s toys had shut off.

Gage could only watch with a wrung out little heart as Yuri’s board tilted back to lay him flat, and as the various toys were removed from them. He bid them farewell – who knows if they would ever get to have sex again.

The supports Yuri was just now standing on were removed, before his board slowly tilted forwards, stopping at 25 degrees.

240 pounds of muscle were now hanging from Yuri’s wrists, and he focused every effort to keep himself breathing.

“Here’s the cum you could’ve made, but didn’t make.”

The slaves’ cum was consolidated into a 30cc syringe, which the guard connected to a cam mechanism suspended from the ceiling. Drop by drop, the syringe released the cum onto Yuri – now blindfolded. It was aimed for the forehead, but miniscule variances in the air and in the ambient vibrations meant the entire face was fair game. In the end, the mechanism was adjusted so the cum would land on the beard, gag, and occasionally the chest, from which it dripped down.

It was a marvel, a marvel too beautiful for Gage’s eyes. He averted his eyes, but he could not block out the tender whines of that animal, so bound and broken.