BIRTHRIGHT
by John Dee Cooper
© 2021
Chapter 9
“Can I do it, Sir?” asked Bruno.
“Alright,” said the Colonel. “But I should let Zed show you how.”
There was a moment of confusion while two pairs of hands fumbled with Danny’s backside. He kept his head down and tried not to make a sound. But when Bruno’s clumsy fingers began to poke and claw at the tender tissue, he couldn’t stop himself whining and wriggling. He got a sharp thump on the back and was told to keep still. Then an argument broke out. Chad said Bruno was being too rough. Bruno said Chad was a wimp and Kurt was just worried that Bruno was going to damage his property. No-one paid any attention to Danny who was sobbing quietly and just praying for them to finish doing whatever it was they were doing.
Finally, after a word from the Colonel, the boys calmed down and Bruno managed to get one finger inside Danny’s rectum. Zed showed him how to tease it open with two fingers and then slip the tip of the plug in.
“Use slave saliva to lubricate it,” suggested the Colonel. “It’ll slide in more easily.”
“Good idea, Sir” said Bruno, pulling Danny up by the hair and ramming the plug in his mouth almost choking him. The thing had a sour sickly taste and made Danny gag violently. He broke into a cold sweat and felt sick. But they didn’t take any notice.
It took five attempts to ease the plug in, and each time Danny screamed as though his guts were being ripped apart. Kurt looked worried, but his uncle assured him the boy was just making a fuss and showing off and would soon quieten down. Then he showed Bruno how to secure the plug by pulling on a small metal clip in its base.
“It inflates the plug so that it won’t slip out.”
The Colonel took control of the activating device for the time being, and suggested the boys got to work on the two older slaves.
Danny could hear their groans as they let their leaden arms drop and bent forwards to receive their butt plugs. He half expected them to put up a fight like some of the other slaves did in the work gang even though they knew they’d get a beating for it. Maybe they were just too exhausted. It must have been nearly midnight, and they’d not had any proper rest all day and soon there wouldn’t be enough of the night left to get any sleep. It was beginning to look very bleak.
A sudden gust of cold air, like a sigh of desperation, hit him in the chest and reminded him what a pathetic waste of flesh he must be. A useless naked object, his cock throbbing relentlessly, his flesh creeping, his stomach churning, his bowels heavy with the weight of the rubber plug that seemed to be burrowing ever deeper with each intake of breath. He couldn’t help thinking of that electric shock and how it was going to feel going off inside him. It was like walking around with a time bomb lodged in your guts.
As he stood alone and ignored, an overwhelming sense of his own physical presence, mixed with an agonising need to be touched, swept through his entire body. Maybe it was the drug working again, or maybe it was the work of some dark demon buried inside him, whatever it was, it made him want to throw his head back and scream. Instead he curled his fingers into tight fists and gripped the bare concrete with his bruised feet.
Visualising himself standing helpless and hopeless, a sad, frightened slave boy who needed rescuing, he allowed his hands to brush against his thighs and then creep inch by inch up onto his stomach. No one seemed to be taking any notice, so he lifted his fingers lightly onto his chest and dropped his left hand gently onto the stiffening shaft of his cock. For almost thirty seconds he savoured the sweetness of his touch... until he was spotted by Zed who gave him a sharp sting with the cane to bring him back to his senses.
“Don’t be stupid, boy” he whispered. “Master has his finger on the button. You want your insides fried?”
“No Sir,” mumbled Danny and bit his lip.
Frank and Jack were ready now and the three slaves were lined up, one behind the other with Frank in front and Danny in the middle.
They were told to walk, in unison, across the courtyard to the door in the basement of the brick building opposite.
For some unaccountable reason, the Colonel insisted that they keep in step and maintained an equal distance between them, and was forever stopping and starting them and striking their aching limbs with a cane. It was very tiresome, and Danny kept bumping into Frank, which made matters worse.
And then – whether it was the lateness of the hour, fatigue, or simply the effects of the drug – Danny began to cry. Not so big as to be noticed, but enough to sting the back of his eyes and tug at his throat. He drew the cold night air in through clenched teeth and tried to get a grip on reality by staring at Frank’s back.
But that was weird as well. It wasn’t like Frank at all. There was something different in the way he walked, in the way he carried himself. Danny had seen him naked plenty of times, but he’d never noticed before how smooth his skin was, nor how beautifully the muscles curled around his shoulders and spread across his back. And he’d never felt excited before about the neat way Frank’s buttocks rolled out from the little triangular v-shape at the base of his spine. Perhaps he’d never dared to look at Frank in that way before – after all he’d been a kind of father to him, or at least a big brother. But now it was as though a veil had been dropped and for the first time he saw his friend not as a mentor and protector, but as a focus of desire. He wanted more than ever to bury himself in those strong arms and rest his head on those bulky muscles but was sick at the thought of what Frank might think.
Danny carried these troubled thoughts with him as they stepped out of the chilly night into the cavernous hollow of the cellar.
To be continued...
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