Foolish April Nutsac

Author's Note / Disclaimer - 'deadname' is a term for a transgender person's birth name and not their chosen name, it is typically a pejorative and offense to 'deadname' a transgender person. in this story the trans person being deadnamed has given consent to their Dominant to do this. Deadnames are very personal and specific to each trans person. if a trans person trusts you to share such information with you, please honor that person's boundaries around it. Thank you. And Enjoy the Story..

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"You have sixteen minutes, slave"

"Thank you, Mistress."

"Don't thank me."

The clacking of her stilettos as she circled him made his anxiety rise slowly.

He gritted his teeth.

"S-Sorry, Mistress."

Her hand struck his face and he cried out.

"Is that how we apologize in my House?"

"It won't happen again, Mistress."

"I may dock your time for that." Mistress Hannah hummed and moved away from him.

"Stay put while I go get your hood and try to make up my mind. You've been a pathetic but dutiful slave for me, your first months here. I can't decide if it's pathetic enough or too pathetic. Almost disgustingly eager."

Mistress Hannah looked at his kneeling form, his freckled skin, curly hair, and mostly scar-less body. His skin was free of scars except for his chest, two faint surgical scars on his flat pectorals. She clicked her tongue chidingly at him.

"You are a nasty, dribbling, nutsack. Aren't you, slave?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"So you will be treated like the disgusting nutsack that you are and get a proper bruising and beating, and you will not cum a single drop until you are told you can. And you may not be told you can. You may have to hold it til your day next year. Do I make myself clear, nutsack?"

"Yes, Mistress"

"Good."

The slave was still and quiet on his knees, wearing only his burlap loincloth and the rope that bound his wrists behind his back. He took as many deep breaths as he could before the hood was placed over his head.

The auction happens every year. Each holiday of the calendar, Mistress Hannah rents out one of her boys on their allotted holiday and they are granted a break from the brutal, never-ending service work of contracted slave hood to Her. They are granted erotic servitude with whoever Mistress Hannah has chosen for them..

The click-clack of her steps was returning. He took one more deep breath before he felt the tug on his arms and felt the damp, silky hood cover his head in darkness, the strong scent of fresh piss overwhelming his senses.

"Breathe that in, slave. I'm giving you to the Kennel tonight. You'll be the sorest piece of ass in this house for at least... oh I don't know, sixteen days? Consider it your holiday bonus, you pathetic April's fool. Of all my holiday boys, you really are the most pathetic, so far this year. So I rubbed your hood against my girlcock and took a piss as well to give you something nice to breathe in as you stand on that auction block."

The slave gritted his teeth from how much he enjoyed the scent of Mistress in his every breath, her wetness making a humidity within the hood, rubbing against his skin, too far away for his tongue to reach, to taste and suck clean from the fabric. It was agony, and it also just made him more turned on.

"On your feet, April Nutsack."

The slave, having got up to his feet, kept his head bowed, even with the hood on. He heard her walk around behind him and untie his wrists. "Hold them out in front of you."

Obeying without question, he felt her tie his wrists in front of him now and knew that the rope was now to be his leash. He remembered that she walked fast with a long stride, being over six foot five by an inch, maybe two, in those stilettos she was wearing. He prayed he could keep up and not give himself bruises from falling before he got to the Auction block.

____

The commute to the Kennel felt like an eternity as the slave lay curled up like a bag of flour in the trunk of the car. He felt every bump and sharp turn and was trying very hard to stay calm. When the asphalt gave way to gravel, he started to relax, and it wasn't long after that that he heard the key in the lock of the trunk, letting him out. She pulled on his rope and he sat up and carefully stepped out of the trunk and onto the gravel and grass ground on his bare feet. She led the way, walking them toward a wrought iron gate. Two alpha pups were standing there dressed in all black, with pup hoods on and standing to attention.

"Hello pups, I'm Mistress Hannah of the Holiday House. I've brought this foolish little thing for the Auction tonight. Care to let your Master know I've arrived?"

The left alpha looked to the right and nodded. The right hand side Alpha took out a walkie talkie radio. Turning it to a certain dial, he pressed the talk button and barked three times, then released the button and waited.

"Good boy. Parade Rest. I'm on my way down."

The radio walkie was replaced on the belt of the right alpha's hip and they changed into Parade rest position in unison, staring straight ahead. Mistress Hannah smirked, impressed.

It wasn't long before Master Tavian came out, wearing a long robe, his hair unkempt like he just woke up. The gate opened by some sort of motion sensor as he exited to greet Mistress Hannah with two cheek kisses. "Good to see you."

"And you, Tavi. I hope your pups are hungry."

"Famished."

Sliding his eyes over to the hooded slave behind Mistress Hannah, shivering slightly in the brisk night, Tavian hummed, before he brought his violet-blue eyes back to Hannah's face. "How long?"

"Sixteen minutes."

"Tsk, well, that's longer than I thought we'd have. Septimius is here. I expect he'll bid high for time with thighs like that. Very well, bring him in. I expect you'll be playing voyeur tonight?"

"If you don't mind"

"Not at all."

Hannah tugged on the rope and started walking, following Master Tavian into his abode. There were sconces of low light on the wall down the entry hallway and the floor was hard wood with a carpet runner rug down the center. April Nutsack was walking measured steps to avoid running into either of the two Dominants leading him down the hallway. He was grateful he wasn't made to crawl this time.

The door on the other end of the hallway was opened and Master Tavian's presence made the room go instantly silent. Mistress Hannah led April Nutsack to the Auction block, tied his rope to the stocks, then left to go have a seat off to the side, to observe.

"Happy April Fool's Day, my beautiful bloodhounds and twink puppies. Tonight, as we honor the Trickster within us all, we have our quarterly auction with one of Mistress Hannah's Holiday Boyz. This is April's Fool and tonight is his only night for play and perhaps pleasure and orgasm out of the whole year." Master Tavian's eyes narrowed and he gave a slightly sadistic smirk.

The pups yipped and howled in response to that playful note in his voice.

"Let the bidding begin. The highest bidder gets the full sixteen allowed minutes to do whatever they so choose to April Nutsack. Bidding starts at five hundred thousand"

Master Lupin raised his paddle. "Million."

"Oh-kay, so we have a bid of Million, do I hear a million five? Anyone?"

"Million six." Master Sheridan said with his paddle.

"Okay, a million six. Do I hear a million seven? Million seven anyone?"

"Million eight." Master Lupin challenged again, glancing at Sheridan across the room.

"Million eight for Lupin. Anyone want to challenge that, up the bid to 1.9 million?"

There was a tense silence for a moment. "Going once... going twice..." Master Tavian warned.

"Two point One million." Master Septimius swiped in at the last moment.

"Okay, 2.1 Million, going once, going twice... any takers, going twice... and sold to Master Septimius for 2.1 Million. That is a lot of cheddar, I am sure Mistress Hannah can buy plenty more slaves with that lump of change, provided you damage April Nutsack beyond repair."

Septimius stood up and went to shake hands with Tavian. Before going up to untie the slave from the stocks, he went to Mistress Hannah. "Sixteen minutes, with such an unblemished product, is it my birthday?"

"I don't know, is it?" Hannah replied. She threw a dismissive caress of a glance at her slave but her eyes lost any sense of warmth when she looked back at Septimius, they were hard, cold and all business for him. "Now, he isn't to cum until he has my permission. You don't mind a voyeur, do you?"

"Not at all. I love a live audience to admire my handiwork. I requested one of the guest play rooms in the basement tonight, better drains to catch fluids and to rinse off for clean up and aftercare. I'm assuming any form of nullo-play is off the table."

"Septimius, if you can castrate this slave in sixteen minutes, I won't stop you."

Septimius sucked in a bit of air between his teeth. "Tempting but no, if I'm going to do that, I want to take my time. But Sixteen minutes should be ample time to bruise him and give him some lasting physical scars, his flesh is so plain, not even ink to adorn itself"

Hannah looked over at the slave and smirked. Septimius moved to go take the rope free of the stocks, and guide him down to the guest dungeon room in the basement.

"As for the rest of you, my fellow Canine Lords, the voyeur's box has ten available seats, as Mistress Hannah has claimed one of them by providing the product. The rest of you will have to survive the bidding war, the opening bid for the first seat, starts at forty five thousand..."

____

Master Septimius and April Nutsack were in the guest dungeon while the eleven voyeurs filled in the seats of the voyeur's box. Several of Master Tavian's pups were allowed in to service the voyeurs on their knees. Mistress Hannah had the only bitch that Tavian had at the moment. She sat in front of Mistress Hannah, waiting to be allowed to touch her or service her in any way.

Tavian turned the dungeon lights on low, but darkened the outer lights so that the voyeur box couldn't be seen but the voyeurs could see what was going on down in the dungeon below.

Septimius tied the rope to some dangling chain from the ceiling, and then took the hood free from the slave's face, throwing it somewhat dismissively on the floor. April Nutsack kept his eyes averted. He could feel the appraising admonishment in Master Septimius' stare.

"You really are quiet unremarkable." Septimius sighed, disapprovingly. "Explains the sixteen minutes"

Remaining silent, April Nutsack did his best to stay still.

"Sixteen lashes should warm you up, I think." Walking closer to the slave, Septimius whispered in his ear, "And if you don't scream or make pretty noises for me, I'll give you sixteen more. Do you understand me, canvas?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good."

Septimius reached to unstrap his cloak, revealing a leather halter top connected to leather slacks that belled over the tops of polished boots. His hair was long, but when he walked over to hang his cloak on one of the provided hooks at the back, he reached up to his ponytail and unwound what looked like a hand-made leather whip. He coiled it around his left hand, then stretched it out with his right and bowed his head, kissing the leather and whispering a soft prayer in some other language as he walked around the slave. He took deep breaths as he circled.

The slave got nervous from the intention in his steps - heel toe, heel toe, heel toe, heel toe, softer than the clack of his mistress, and heavier. Septimius was a very broad man, a figure of sculpted power, refined with time. He had to be at least double the slave's age, chronologically, but more than several lifetimes older spiritually. It was heady and intoxicating to be in his presence. And he wasn't even struck yet.

"Start the clock," Master Septimius commanded.

The lights dimmed and the sound of ticking flooded the room, like some buzzing of a wasp that the slave couldn't see but could hear. Before he had a chance to process that sound, the first strike with the whip cracked across his back.

April Nutsack screamed.

Septimius smiled. "Oh, that's nice. Can I hear that again?"

Strike Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

The slave screamed prettily for each blow and the pain of the blood weeping down his back as he gritted his teeth and defiantly held his actual tears back. His toes curled against the floor as he fought to stay standing.

"Very good. You scream well. Now... that you've got some stripes on this side, let's try those delicious looking, thick thighs of yours,"

Septimius took a few steps back as he appraised his handiwork, watching the blood weep down the Nutsack's body. "Hannah may kill me if I ruin your burlap and you have to put on something comfortable to leave here. So let's take this off... " He closed the distance to remove the loin cloth and tossing it aside, the nest of hair beneath was dark and damp, the dew from his sex and sweat was making the curls glisten. "Ah...," Septimius moaned as he looked him up and down. "If I knew you came with a bonus hole, I'd have bid more for you."

He whispered in April Nutsack's ear and the slave trembled, whimpering at the thought of being worth more for his third hole. Septimius took a step back - literally stepping backward, keeping his eyes on the slave. There was a measurement scrutiny in his gaze, before...

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve...

Nutsack slave was gasping now, blood down the thick of his thighs was almost a triggering sight for him, a reminder of a different kind of blood he hadn't had to bleed in three years. He felt the pain on both sides of his body now and he wanted to give into it, to weep and cry, and grovel for more.

"Look at you. Still trying to be strong and stay standing... it's cute."

Thirteen

Fourteen...

Septimius stepped closer to the slave to catch him before he fell over too hard and ripped the rope or strained a muscle. Holding the twitching, bleeding body was making him hard. His breath hitched at the scent of the slave's blood. "You're as turned on as I am," he whispered.

"You have five minutes left on the clock. I should leave you with my calling card, give your mistress a chance to properly deny you release or surprise us all and allow you release."

Lifting the slave up til he was straddling his hips, Septimius opened his pants and took himself out before he sheathed his hard length into the bonus hole of the slave. April Nutsack cried out.

"So fucking tight... are you untried in this hole as well?"

The slave could only grit his teeth to keep from cumming on the thrusting cock inside of him. His body hurt, and was bleeding with fresh wounds. He felt like he was being torn apart. Septimius's thrusting was merciless, hungry and delved deep. His hot breath felt like acid against his skin and still, that pressure and need to cum was rising inside of him. He wanted to let go, he wanted permission to let go and cum, because he wouldn't be allowed another chance all year. He wanted to cum on this man's cock, coarse stubble scraping against his shoulder and neck - the ticking was getting faster and faster and April Nutsack's cunt was starting to tighten around Master Septimius's cock, and only then did he stop. He stopped and pulled out.

Shaky, bleeding legs struggled to hold up his body as the Nutsack felt one thigh starting to cramp and his arms starting to ache from being held up for so long. He looked up through bleary tears at Master Septimius, stroking himself off, staring at him with a hard, objectifying look. He had black nail polish nails and a diamond ring on his left index finger as he stroked faster and faster. Stepping closer and gripping the scruff of the Nutsack's curly hair, he held the slave's head back roughly "Open that maw..."

The Nutsack's maw opened and his eyes closed, only to get cock slapped. "I didn't say close your eyes. Look at me, nutsack," Septimius commanded. When the slave's eyes opened again, he growled his orgasm, as his load splat and sprayed all over April Nutsack's lips and nose and some even got on his forehead and in his hair. Once Master Septimius was done, he reached for his whip again and struck the slave with the remaining two lashes across the chest, an X mark right between his pecs. It hurt as the tip of the whip nicked his nipples.

"Can I cum sir, please?"

"No. Your Mistress hasn't given word, and I'm not granting it to you. I've had my fun with you. Also... you're out of minutes for the year, I think.."

As Septimius said that, the clock beeped and the house lights rose. "You should have asked earlier, you really are a foolish one," he added as a tease, salt to the wound, as it were.

In the voyeur's box, many puppies were servicing the Masters who bought seats for this show. Legs were spread as maws were pumping up and down on exposed cocks. Mistress Hannah was deep-throating the bitch's maw and pulling on the pigtails that were sticking out of her hood like handlebars. Once the minutes were over, she pulled the pup's mouth free from her body, the action almost dismissive, and she turned to watch Septimius, instead with his dick still half hard, sticking out of his pants, the whip in his hand, her slave nearly kneeling with shaking legs barely holding him up, naked and bloody, arms bound and held up toward the ceiling.

"Time for aftercare, and then you get to go home with the taste of my cum in your mouth. Aren't you a lucky one? I guess that is your gift for the year, isn't it? April Fool..." Septimius said with a low chuckle.

_____

The clean up and wound care was done by Septimius himself, who knew enough medical knowledge to do so, and there was no need to call any sort of emergency services. The wounds were treated so they would heal without infection and the only thing that Septimius avoided was applying any sort of balm or ointment that would prevent scarring. He wanted the slave to be scarred, to be adorned with the stripes and marks of his whip.

Replacing the burlap loin cloth and the piss scented hood upon April Nutsack, Master Septimius then handed over his rope leash to his Mistress. Septimius gave a slight bow of his head respectfully, "You're a lucky woman to have such a slave. I hope to have another opportunity with him in some year or so in the future, unless I can persuade you to sell him to me, perhaps?"

Mistress Hannah didn't reply with words but she gave a slight smirk that didn't reach her hard, vacant eyes as she regarded Septimius. He held up his hands in surrender and took a step back. Hannah tugged on her slave's leash, "Time to get you home and to bed," she said, leading him out of the wrought iron gates, past the two Alpha pups on guard duty, and out to her car. The slave went back into the trunk before she got into the car to drive them back home.

The slave had fallen asleep in the trunk on the way home and he didn't wake or realize he'd been carried to his cell until he felt the cold metal of the handcuffs on his bedpost. He was about to drift off again before he felt a weight over his body and a familiar scent. He almost dismissed it as a dream until he felt her push inside of him. His eyes snapped open and he saw his Mistress looking at him, as she thrust in him slowly. Their eyes held - his wide and hers hooded.

"Your April Cunt feels so fucking good."

Wincing at the use of his deadname, he lay there, passive as she fucked in his hole, slow but heavy. He could feel she was holding herself back, trying to last. It made it hard to keep her gaze, that slow slide of girlcock hitting his g-spot just right. He whimpered pleadingly, "Can I cum, Mistress? Please?"

"No. I need to cum first. You need to shut. the. fuck. up. And be a good wet hole for me, understand? I had that bitch's mouth around my girlcock... thinking about doing this as soon as I got you home."