By Bikermike
Alex was left to recover for an hour or so; resting his bruised and cut body lying on his front on his makeshift bed, made out of wooden pallettes. He was milked once again; this time his captors needed to attach toothed clamps to his nipples in order for him to gain an erection so soon after his ordeal.
His life settled down once again into its routine: food then milked first thing in the morning (often fucked in the process), working the generator, milked again, food, generator, milked; every other day made to do various physical exercises and so on.
Even though he was beaten on occasions when he had not produced enough sperm, he was quite enjoying his life as a slave. Thoughts sometimes came into his mind as to what was going to happen to him when his ejaculate was no longer able to produce testosterone B? Would he be released? Did he want to be released at all? He needed to get answers from his captors but he was forbidden to initiate any conversation with them on pain of severe punishment.
That said, didn’t he enjoy his beatings? In fact, he was becoming quite fond of James, Steve and Andy, even cruel Al, who visited (and fucked and abused him) every so often.
One morning after his milking and while he was still hanging by his wrists he asked James and Andy ‘Masters, no doubt you’ll punish me for speaking but what will you do with me once I am no longer producing testosterone B?’
‘You will be no longer of any use to us,’ replied Andy, ‘And yes! You have earned yourself five lashes for speaking to us! However, in answer to your question, we told you when we first caught you that we would release you where we found you. You may speak again but it’ll cost you five more lashes!’
‘Couldn’t I stay here with you three Masters? I could perhaps be your permanent slave, cleaning the house, maintaining the garden, anything?’ replied Alex.
‘Well slave, we will discuss it with Steve and Al.’ Replied James, while Andy had selected a whip from the rack on the wall. ‘Prepare yourself for ten lashes and count each one, boy!’
Alex had got to really love the feel of the lash against his bare muscular back. His cock once more becoming as hard as India rubber. ‘Harder Sir!’ He gasped, writhing in his shackles. Andy of course, obliged.
The following day, just prior to Alex’s first milking James said, ‘It is not for you to know that yet, Slave! In the meantime, just produce enough sperm for our purposes. By the way, we can tell you that you have fathered seventeen children!’
That night, just before sleep overtook him, Alex thought wistfully about his biological children and how it would be extremely unlikely that he would ever meet any of them. To even ask his captors if he could see even a photograph of any of them would risk earning him another beating. In any case, as much as he would relish more punishment, what would be the point? Maybe he could ask once he was released in a few years’ time and no longer a sex slave.
The End
Metal would like to thank the author, Bikermike, for this story!
