by John Dee Cooper
© 2021
Chapter 7
“Kurt, tell me again why you picked this one,” said Bruno, jabbing his finger in Danny’s ribs. “He’s skinny, can’t stand up straight and when you cradle his cock it just lies there in your hand doing nothing. Look.”
The pain in Danny’s shoulder was crippling and his raised arms were growing numb. He’d already let them droop a little but Zed had given him such a slap across the buttocks that he could still feel the smart. He was shaking too. He’d had to wait an eternity while they played around with Frank and now he’d got Bruno crawling all over him. It took all his strength not to thump him in the face.
“I just took a fancy to him, that’s all,” said Kurt. “I thought he would be fun to play with.”
“He’s scared,” said the Colonel. “He keeps leaning away from you. He needs a firm hand.”
He told Danny to straighten up then punched him in the stomach.
Danny shrieked out and dropped his arms.
“Oh, do something about this boy, Zed,” said the Colonel angrily pushing him away. “He’s out of control.”
“Yes Sir.”
Before he could gather his senses, Danny’s head was down and his legs kicked apart. Instinctively he grabbed hold of his ankles as he heard the swish of a cane followed by a sharp sting just below his buttocks. Once! Twice! Three times! He tried to scream but his throat had seized up and he’d lost the power to breath.
“No more than twelve strokes,” said the Colonel. “We don’t want to spoil him too early.”
It all happened in such a rush that it wasn’t until the beating was over and Zed had guided him back into position with his arms in the air, that the shock kicked in. A dull ache in his backside became a tidal wave of pain, crushing his stomach, ripping his lungs and exploding in his head. He sobbed uncontrollably until the pressure of Zed’s hand on his neck cooled him down enough to be able to breath again.
“Wow!” hooted Bruno. “Did you hear him wail?”
The sobbing had cleared Danny’s head enough for him to stand still again, with his arms up and his body stretched as tight as a bow string while the rich boys gathered round him.
“I see what you mean about his penis,” said Chad, who had slipped his hand under Danny’s cock in the way that the Colonel had shown them. “He’s not responding. Does that affect his value, Sir?”
“It depends what you want to use him for,” said the Colonel. “He looks old enough for breeding. Why not check him out for that?”
“They’re all bunched up,” said Chad after a few unsuccessful attempts to get a firm grip on Danny’s balls.
The Colonel handed Chad a steel ring and told him to slip it round the boy’s ball sac like Kurt had done with the other slave.
Danny had his eyes shut during this and his mind was shooting off in all directions. One minute the night sky was crashing down on him like the lid of a granite coffin, the next he was praying for Frank to come and rescue him. He was desperate. He knew he was just a slave, but there had to be a limit. Even after four years he hadn’t given up the hope that there was something better than this, that one day something or someone would come and save him from all this pain and humiliation.
A clumsy finger scraped his balls and brought him back to reality. He almost dropped one of his arms. It was only the slightest of movements, but it resulted in another swipe from Zed’s cane. This one caught him on the side of his buttocks.
“I can’t get them through, Sir” said Chad. “They’re not loose enough.”
“Let me show you.”
With the sureness of an expert, and with all three boys gathered round to observe, the Colonel wrapped his thumb and forefinger round the root of Danny’s scrotum, and with his free fingers gently teased the balls against the palm of his hand. After a moment or two he let them go and showed Chad how there was now enough movement to guide them through the ring.
“You make that look so easy, Uncle,” said Kurt.
“It’s just a matter of practice. I processed hundreds of boys when I was at Aschaven. You should use these slaves for practice. I’m happy to teach you. “
Kurt was already toying with the idea of asking his father if he could keep one of the slaves for his own personal use. Handling the older slave had been a revelation. He’d discovered a power so profound, and yet so natural to him, that he was almost scared of what it might lead to. This young puppy would, he imagined, be easier to control and less expensive to use as a guinea pig, and the fact that he was closer to his own age made the prospect even more intriguing. Admittedly the boy was a little underdeveloped, but he was compact and his skin glowed seductively in the pale light. Kurt ran the back of his hand over the boy’s tummy. It was satisfyingly taut with a fine moulding of muscle just below the surface. There was a pleasing harmony to the shape of his limbs as well, and the steel bracelet, once it had been pushed into place, fitted snugly round his balls.
“How old do you think this one is, Uncle?”
“Judging from the skin texture and the slightly translucent flesh around the nipples and the light trace of on the upper lip, I should say fourteen or fifteen or something thereabouts. Let’s look in the mouth. Examine the teeth. Yes. Certainly no more than fifteen. That’s a good age for a young slave, with lots of training potential.”
Danny hated it when they pushed their fingers in his mouth. There was a powerful urge to bite and it made him want to throw up. He hated it too when they got his age wrong. Why didn’t they just ask him? And he still had no idea why they’d dragged the three of them all the way out here in the middle of the night. He just wished they’d get all this chat over and done with and give them some proper work to do.
“So, Uncle, why can’t we get a reaction when I weigh his cock?”
As it happened, Danny had found the touch of Kurt’s hand on his cock quite soothing – not like Bruno’s rough handling – but it hadn’t been enough to arouse him. Instead it had teased some of the sleepiness back into his eyes, which was dangerous because he began to drift off and nearly lost control of his arms again. He could see that Frank and Jack were coping well. Their arms had hardly moved. They stood on either side of him like two colossal statues, their arms raised in a weird heroic salute. He took heart from them, gritted his teeth and tried to imagine that his finger tips were gripping an invisible rope. With all this on his mind, it was no wonder there had been no reaction to the fingers that were wrapped around his cock.
“Doubtless he’s a virgin,” said the Colonel. “He needs training, that’s all. We can explore that tonight. In the meantime I have a remedy which might help.”
By now Danny had lost interest altogether in what they were saying. He was thinking back to the days when he had been free to run around and play like other boys, before the military had come and taken him away. Every year on his birthday, he’d gone with his father to the top of the hill that overlooked their village and looked down at the two roads that wound away through the countryside and imagined what lay at the end of them. “One of those roads leads to your future,” his father had said. And all through his childhood he had dreamt of following that road to find his fortune. He was seventeen now – and he’d found no fortune. Only slavery.
On the verge of tears again, Danny tried to turn his misery into anger by bunching up his fists and giving the air above his head a good punch. He didn’t notice that the Colonel was filling up a hypodermic needle with a dark green fluid. He was only aware of the jab, when it came, at the base of his scrotum. He yelped and would have backed away if Conrad hadn’t had a firm grip on his genitals.
“That should keep him on heat for the next twelve hours or so. Try him again a little later and I guarantee you’ll see a marked difference.”
To be continued...
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