Chronicles of a Slave Trader – Chapter 18

By PredicamentBondage

Joey is watching himself in the enormous wall-mounted mirror, 10 feet in front of him. It completely covers one wall of the room and reflects every curve and quiver of the stud’s superb musculature.

Our ‘sex-slave-in-training’ is standing on two concrete blocks, six inches by six inches, and twelve inches high, positioned three feet apart. He’s poised on the balls of his feet, nervous about the anal invader that has breached the outer defences to his anal cavity.

The intruder is a long tapered composite granite cone, about 18 inches high and 8 inches diameter at the base. Highly polished, very smooth, it’s truly a beautiful thing; one of my favourite toys. The cone is mounted on a 2 inch thick, solid steel rod, supported by heavy metal brackets fixed between the concrete blocks on which the slave stands.

The rod and cone rest on a pneumatic pump that can raise the cone through its full 18 inch length. For now, however, there is just an inch and a half inside the slave’s tight butt-hole, just enough to stop the victim raising himself off its assailant.

Keeping the slave upright, is a thick metal collar, welded to a horizontal steel pole, firmly mounted to the wall, three feet behind the captive’s neck. No other bondage is necessary, the prey is going nowhere.

The six inch flaccid cock arcs gently towards the floor, protecting low hanging loose walnuts in their pale stretchy hairless sack. The stud could take this opportunity to fondle his junk but, instead, his fingers claw at the collar in an ineffective attempt to find a way out. Tightly hugging the fuck-shaft, just behind the mushroom glands, is a solid plastic ring; reminiscent of a wedding band. A feint green glow permeates the plastic, indicating the device is active and the battery is fully charged.

Totally shaved, the swimmer physique looks magnificent in its bondage, and the temptation is to have some fun with the restrained body. The higher imperative, however, is to start the training, so I approach the captive to explain the “rules of the game”.

I position a small stool just behind and to the side of the lithe, very sexy specimen, so I can get up-close and personal. With my lips at his ear, I whisper as if imparting a secret. “Hello fucker.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath and the lungs trap the air in anticipation of what’s to come. I say nothing until the slave exhales slowly, and takes another gulp of oxygen. Again his body involuntarily holds the air, expecting the worst. “We’re going to play a little game….” I smile.

“You can see that titanic cunt corer between your sweet cheeks?” I nibble seductively on the slave’s earlobe, not expecting an answer. “When I turn on the machine, that pussy punisher will push upwards by just one inch. It will raise by one inch every twenty minutes. If you do nothing, your man-cunt will be totally destroyed in a couple of hours. In 6 hours, you’ll be gaping a full 8 inches wide. You’ll be leaking arse-juice for the rest of your life.”

Joey suddenly realises he’s been holding his breath and starts panting hard. I look over his shoulder and see, in the mirror, his stomach pushing in and out, pumping air into his starving lungs. God what a stunning sight. Toned abs forcing the smooth alabaster skin taut as the slave instinctively tries to escape.

“You DON’T have to suffer the pain.” I explain gently, comfortingly. “The ring around your dick is a sensor, designed to detect when you spill your seed. Every time you cum, the cone will drop by an inch. If you manage to ejaculate three times in the first hour you’ll be free. In fact, any time after I start the training, if you get the tip of the cone below the level of your arse-hole, the machine will automatically switch off and you can be released.

“All you have to do is masturbate and cum enough times.” I smirk.

“Here, let me help you….” I take out a small jar, scoop out some gel, reach around and smear it over the slave’s cock-head. “There… That will take effect in about 20 minutes. I would hope that it gives you incentive to do your best. Quickly!”

I stepped down just as Joey snaps. He remembers how the numbing cream worked last time, and he starts whimpering and begging “No, no, no, no. Please, no, please.”

Such handsome features are enhanced by tears pouring down the cheeks and I can’t help but stand and admire the exquisite sight. After five minutes, I walk across to the laptop in the corner of the room and hit the space bar.

There’s a gentle hum from below the captive, and the invader starts its assault. There’s a gasp, and the slave is on its toes. Suddenly, there’s a new focus in the slaves mind, and it starts tugging on the hose between its legs. It takes it less than a minute to get hard. Before he was entrapped, Joey used to beat his meat at least three times a day, so he’s a natural at this task. Five minutes later, he’s adjusted to the intrusion, and is back down on the balls of his feet.

Seconds later, I’m watching his muscular legs tense, his slim waist contract, his stomach retracts and is now concave, his pubic bone pushes forward and he stops stroking. His classically handsome face contorts and his neck strains against the encircling metal band. The pale skin flushes red and squirt after squirt of baby-batter is forced from the rigid fuck-pole.

I see relief in the slave’s face as the cone drops back to its original position. There’s a lustre of sweat over its torso, cum dripping from the end of the still hard cock. I couldn’t help walking over to take the maroon-tinted helmet in my mouth to suck out the remnants of man-juice. Sweet as heaven, I suck all I can from the leaking slit.

I raise my face to inspect those enchanting features and gorgeous emerald eyes. “Well done beautiful, and in less than ten minutes. Ok… you know how this works. Enjoy your afternoon.”

Now half soft, Joey starts tugging on his shaft again and is at full mast within a few minutes. Eyes closed, his face is a picture of concentration. Joey is in the zone now, long purposeful strokes slowly bringing him closer to an escape from the torture chamber. Too slowly, however, as before he reaches his goal, there’s a mechanical intervention as the granite warhead stretches the anal ring and there’s a surprised squeal from Joey’s pursed lips. The computer has reached the 20 minute trigger and Joey is back on tip toe.

At that instant, the luscious hypnotic eyes spring wide open and the slave starts to panic. It bites its lower lip and the hand pistons up and down its shaft, desperation radiating from its eyes. The numbing cream is taking effect and realisation dawns that the situation is critical.

Almost twenty minutes later and the entrapped gym trained musculature convulses as the cock erupts a second time. The semen oozes rather than squirts, but there is a good shot glass full of thick creamy ball-scuzz smeared between fingers and slicked down his joy-stick.

The intruder retracts an inch, and Joey visibly slumps against his bonds. His dick is almost instantly soft, red and sticky with cum.

“Please, no more.” He pleads in that authentically attractive Scottish accent.

Almost instantly, the 20 minute point is reached and the colossal cunt corer takes Joey by surprise and, once again punches up and rests against his prostate. Groaning in frustration, our human sperm-factory automatically grasps his sore, flaccid todger, and starts to wank vigorously.

No feeling! Shit! Anxiety floods across the victims face. Feeling nothing, he gives up and just stands there, strong hand cradling his balls. Twenty minutes later and the cone pushes towards home-base once more. Pain from the skewered shit-pipe shoots through the trapped tortured torso. Joey screams at the top of his lungs. Incomprehensible babble vomits from the slave’s mouth. It sounds like pleading but it’s easily ignored. My hard dick starts straining down the inside of my jeans and leaking pre-cum dampens the blue denim.

Joey’s gash is now stretched wider than it’s ever been before. Tears pour from those green, gorgeous eyes. A viscus stalactite of snot, hangs obscenely from the left nostril. Piteous whimpering emanates from the sexy mouth. The vision is too much and my cock erupts multiple spirts of molten jizz. The spontaneous hands-free discharge forms rivulets that run down between my leg and jeans, and eventually drip onto my boot.

Anxiety becomes panic and Joey starts beating his meat like his life depends on it. I can see my quarry retreat into a favourite fantasy, maybe a memory of passed sexual conquests, maybe the image of some celebrity sex-idol. Whatever the dream, the tactic seems to be working, because his cock is once again rock hard, the sensor ring digging into the sensitive flesh behind the glands.

As his right hand coaxes his manhood to another climax, his left gravitates to his right nipple, and finds the tiny, pink, perfectly styled, rubber nub at the bottom of an impeccably formed slab of pec muscle. Tweaking the sensitive nib of his man-tit sends jolts of electricity straight to the head of his engorged fuck-stick. The sensual nipple play overrides the numbness of the hefty sausage in his hand and propels the sweat drenched stud towards another point of no return.

Suddenly, there’s a buzz from the machine and punishing pain detonates around the tightly stretched twat. Adrenaline surges through Joey’s sexy body, promoting a verbal outburst “Oh my God. Oh my God, I can feel my cock, I can feel my cock, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, Oh my God, I’m cumming, I’m…..” His body stiffens and his face contorts once again. Tremors run the length of his legs, up and down through his daily trained muscles.

Bang! A long continuous stream of creamy white ball juice erupts from the dilated piss slit and arcs like a fountain to hit the floor at least six feet away. One solid arch of thick man-seed extruded by a single gut-wrenching contraction.

The slave’s third orgasm leaves it completely drained and I know the fun has only just begun. The next orgasm will be dry and extremely painful and I can’t wait to witness it. I duck down to get a view of the slaves tortured snatch. Spread least 4 inches, it’s a splendid sight. My quarry is now on the very tips of its toes, muscular legs vibrating like guitar strings.

Totally spent, the slave’s fate is now sealed. I know it can’t cum again for at least an hour. That means three agonising incursions of the butt-busting bollard.

The jizz down my leg has dried like glue, so I peel off my jeans, tugging at my leg hairs in the process. Staring sympathetically at the slumped slave, its arms hanging inert at its sides, I let the timer run down to the next invasive thrust. When it comes, an agonising scream assaults my ears as Joey is brutishly lifted off his feet by the unkind mechanics. His arse-ring now inelastic, stretched taut around the unyielding cold granite, his weight rests on the stone mountain embedded in his guts. Having lost his footing, knees bend and feet gyrate uselessly, looking for purchase. No leg support means his body-weight forces him down even further onto the cruel polished assailant.

Joey’s feet eventually find the concrete blocks and he manages to stand again and relieve the discomfort of hanging from the steel collar by his neck. Verging on insanity, some part of his brain must believe that he still has a chance. He starts masturbating again, this time using both hands. I have no doubt that he’ll climax again, undoubtedly painfully dry, but he has no chance of avoiding the slow destruction of his man-cunt. Masturbation will only serve to prolong his suffering.

Over the next two hours, our hapless hunk tries to ejaculate three more times, each one completely dry. His frantic trashing about just helps to loosen his newly stretched out pussy still further. The laptop stops pushing when the remodelled hole strains to a magnificent seven and a half inches in diameter.

I stand on my stool in front of my wrecked property. Looking into its eyes, but there’s nothing there; no consciousness at all. Just a dribbling, shell. If I extract the cone now, its hole might recover, eventually. That won’t do. I need to leave the slave perched atop the intimidating expansion tool for at least 12 hours. That way, the cavernous gash between muscular buns will stay open permanently.

….perfect for the slaves new Master who ordered a pretty slave hole that can be double fisted.

 

To be continued …

Metal would like to thank PredicamentBondage for this story!

Dream Boy Bondage

5 thoughts on “Chronicles of a Slave Trader – Chapter 18”

  1. As usual the great use of language and storyline wants me rush in and rescue the slave from the outrageous tortured whilst at the same time become the Trader having that cum pumping down the inside of my jeans as I enjoy watching his suffering. One of the best here

  2. What a great Story i loved to read every chapter ans experiences of each individuum/object.
    Please write on.
    Sir and if there is realy such a trainings- and traidingcenter i would offer to be trained, molded and saled Sir.

  3. I love this series and still hope it will be updated some time.

    I keep going back to the chapters of Marco as a urinal, that gets me off every single time! i love his first person description of his descent into slavery as a piss drinker. You do it so well!

    Also Gavin-the-dad aka Sweet-Cheeks, would love some more time on him as a father turned slave!

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