Betrayed and Enslaved

Warning: this story contains a lot of cruelty, sadism, a tremendously homophobic dystopian society and other content that may disturb the reader. If you are very sensitive, it is better not to read it.

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I spent most of the afternoon preparing canapés and cold meats, as well as arranging drinks, tableware and glasses. The truth is that I took great care, I wanted Joe's friends to be happy. When it was almost time for the game, he said to me:

-Slave, I think I don't need to tell you that I expect exemplary behavior from you tonight. You will treat my friends, who will also be your masters today, with the utmost respect and you will obey them absolutely in everything in the same way you do with me. Any mistake or inappropriate behavior you will pay dearly for, understood?

I nodded nervously. I hoped I was up to the task. However, at that moment I was far from imagining the night that awaited me....

At last there was a knock at the door. I went out to open it, as I was supposed to. Fortunately, Joe had ordered me to wear my loincloth, though not out of consideration for my modesty, of course, but because he feared that my nudity might make his friends uncomfortable. As soon as I opened, I prostrated myself on the floor and kissed the shoes of the two men standing in the doorway. They were the same age as Joe (around 35) and, like him, they were tall and stocky. Their names were Adam and Bruce, although this I deduced over the course of the evening, as of course they were not introduced to me. They seemed to be in a very good mood and, as soon as they saw my gesture, they began to laugh out loud.

-Well, well... this is a welcome -said the one called Adam-, How well you live, Joe, with your own slave and all! And it seems you have taught him well, hahaha...!

They greeted each other effusively with Joe and he led them to the living room, where the TV was already on and the drinks and glasses were arranged on a side table. They sat down on the sofas and leaned back shamelessly, so I deduced that they had a lot of confidence between them. They began to talk about everything a bit, while I served them drinks, until the game started. Then I brought the canapés and all the snacks I had prepared. It was quite hot, so they started to take off their clothes, leaving only their shorts on. In addition, they both started smoking. I thought how lucky I was that Joe didn't smoke. I always hated smoking. The whole time they were ignoring me, as if I weren't there. Strangely enough, at that moment I was hurt by that indifference, as if I were a mere object (legally I was). Thinking back, how much I wish they had continued to ignore me!

At one point, while watching the game, Joe asked his friends if they would like a foot massage. They gladly accepted and it didn't take more than a gesture from my master for me to kneel down in front of one of those men and barefoot him. A strong smell of male feet invaded my nostrils. To my shame I have to confess that I inhaled it with fruition, I loved that manly scent! I began to massage his foot with all my skill, which was a lot. He moaned.

-God! Ummmmm... What a delight! Does he do this to you every day?

-He does this to me whenever I want, he's my slave -said Joe. And he added: -and he can do it even better if he uses his tongue...

Taking it as an order I began to frantically lick those male feet, making even more the delights of their owner. I was like that for a long time, continuing with those of his other friend, as well as Joe's own. The atmosphere, between the sweat, the smell of feet and the tobacco smoke was really charged. I couldn't help but get excited. That explosion of testosterone around me was incredibly erotic. My dick got hard and I was thankful I was wearing my loincloth. I don't know what the reaction of those guys would have been if they had seen the hard-on they were giving me.

Then Adam, while I was continuing to lick and massage their feet, said:

-Fuck Joe, you haven't put anything to spit. Between the tobacco and the drink I have a shitty throat...

-Well -Joe replied-, that's what the slave's mouth is for.

I shuddered. Adam smiled broadly and ordered me to open my mouth. Then he cleared his throat noisily and let out a huge, thick spit in my mouth. It made me incredibly sick. It tasted like tobacco, food, snot... I don't know. I struggled to swallow it, as I knew Joe wanted to when he did something like that to me. For the next few minutes the three of them were spitting into my mouth whatever they wanted, always trying to make the spits thick and disgusting; they even spit bits of chewed food into my mouth, although in the end Joe had me bring a bowl from the kitchen to serve as a spittoon and they kept spitting there.

And, of course, then came the inevitable. Bruce said he was going to pee and Joe told him he knew where he could do it. Naturally, Bruce didn't have enough time to make me kneel in front of him, unzip his fly and put his cock, of more than considerable size, in my mouth. He then relaxed, let out a long sigh and a huge, foul-smelling spurt flooded my mouth. Despite the intensity of the piss, I began to swallow it without any problems. I was already very experienced in such matters. Meanwhile, the two of them burst into laughter:

-Fuck, what mastery in swallowing! You've got him well trained -said Adam, while he watched my work on his knees in front of his friend. It didn't take him long, of course, to want to do the same and in a second his huge cock was filling my mouth with pungent urine. As I swallowed his piss, Adam asked:

-Don't you want to piss, Joe?

Joe smiled and stood up, unzipping his fly. His cock, so adored by me in the past, immediately had its turn to relieve itself in my mouth. All this time I was hard as a rock, thank goodness they didn't notice. But the night's infamies were far from over. At halftime of the game, Adam, who certainly seemed the more sadistic of Joe's two friends, said:

-Well, we got the slave well hydrated, but the poor thing hasn't eaten anything -he bent down and took in his hand the spittoon, filled almost to overflowing with their saliva and sputum. I shivered as he continued: -You know that if there's one thing faggots love, it's swallowing jizz. What do you say we prepare a tasty cocktail for the dog?

The other two, already a little tipsy, welcomed the idea with enthusiasm. And pulling down their pants, they began to masturbate. Despite what I knew was in store for me, I couldn't help but be fascinated by the sight of those huge cocks rubbing vigorously in the hands of their incredibly virile owners. The situation was so arousing for me that I think I cum inside my loincloth without even touching myself. In a few minutes Bruce announced that he was cumming and Adam held out the spittoon, where he spilled a copious amount of sperm. He was followed by Adam and finally Joe, both finishing filling the bowl with thick white cum that mixed with the sputum and saliva that was already there. Then, as they put their pants back on, Adam stirred the disgusting mixture with a straw and held it out to me. I hesitated at the filth and immediately my necklace gave me a jolt. I looked at Joe:

-Swallow it right now! -he ordered me imperiously-. Or there will be consequences...

I didn't even want to know what those consequences would be, so I took the bowl and, closing my eyes, began to drink the filthy mixture of the fluids of those men. I tried not to breathe as I felt the thick, nauseating liquid pass down my throat. I finally gulped it down, making a superhuman effort not to throw up. God knows what Joe could have done to me if I had vomited! My feat was celebrated with enthusiastic applause from Adam and Bruce.

During the second half of the game, their team was losing and they started to get more aggressive. They started kicking and slapping me while I kept massaging and licking their feet. Even at one point, without warning, Bruce put out his cigarette on my arm. It was so sudden and unexpected that I couldn't help a yelp of pain as I felt the burn, which naturally triggered a shock from the collar. When Joe saw it he said:

-Bruce, don't do that

-Oh, come on, I'm just having a little fun -he replied.

-Yes -added Adam-, and where could I put out my cigarette? Ummmmm -he made as if he was thinking as he approached me and put, to my despair, his cigar in front of one of my eyes- what if I put it out here? All in all, a one-eyed slave can do the same as one with two eyes, can't he?

My heart raced so much that I thought I would have a heart attack. I don't know if he would have been able to do it, although even today I think he would, but, fortunately, he looked at Joe and Joe put on such a disapproving expression that he put away the cigarette and extinguished it in the ashtray, saying:

-Okay, okay! I get it. I won't hurt your little slave - I don't think I've ever loved Joe as much as I did at that moment!

Finally the game was over. I thought it would all be over, unlike me! Their team had lost and they were pretty pissed off, plus they had enough alcohol in their bodies. Fortunately Joe, although he was also a bit tipsy, was more sober. He used to drink little, as alcohol did not agree with him. Just as well, if he had been as drunk as his colleagues I don't know what would have become of me that night.

In fact, Adam said getting up:

-I'm really pissed off with this fucking team. How about we go to the dungeon with your slave and do something? -he asked. Joe agreed and ordered me down the stairs, followed by them. It was clear that at least Adam knew about the existence of the dungeon and what was in it. I later learned that he had sometimes tortured someone there along with Joe. That "someone," however, had always been a submissive or masochistic girl. Joe, very prudently, had kept her activities with men a secret.

You can imagine my state of mind when we arrived at the dungeon. I was so anxious that my head was spinning and my heart felt like it was about to burst out of my chest. Joe undressed me and tied me face up on a metal table. They began with the torture of the wax, which I found no less unpleasant for being familiar with it. Each one took a candle and between the three of them they filled my whole body with boiling wax. Adam even, at one point, put the candle flame on my glans. I thought I was dying of pain. Fortunately, Joe pulled his arm away at once, shaking his head sternly.

However, what came next was much worse. They started practicing bastinado on me. I don't know if you know what it is. It is a torture that consists of beating the soles of the feet with a stick. You can't imagine the pain it causes. Each blow is like an electric shock, but even worse, it goes all the way up your body to the base of your skull. Adam went at it with an enthusiasm that denoted his immense sadism. And, as if that were not enough, Joe reserved another particular torture for himself, which he could do at the same time as that one: he put an insulating tape over my mouth and began to cover my nose, pinching it with his strong fingers, preventing me from breathing. When I couldn't take any more and was about to choke, he would let go of my nose for a few seconds and let me take a small breath of air, and then immediately plug me up again.

They kept me like this for a long time. Between the terrible pain of the rod in my feet and the torture of breathing I was on the verge of collapse. I lost consciousness a couple of times, being awakened both times by Joe pouring a bucket of water over me, to continue the torture. Bruce did not participate in the games, it was obvious that they were unknown to him, but he was fascinated watching them.

Finally they let me go and, in a real mess, they tied me face to the Saint Andrew's cross. Then Joe handed them both whips and began to beat my back. Here Bruce joined in, hitting me with enthusiasm. The whipping was not excessively painful, as those whips were special for BDSM games and were designed to produce pain, but not to tear the skin, as if it had been a real whip. However, Adam took advantage of a moment when Joe had gone upstairs to substitute the whip for the cane with which he had whipped my feet, and then it really became terrible. Fortunately he hadn't given me more than three or four strokes when Joe returned and angrily stopped him:

-What are you doing, don't you see that with that you can get him marked? It could make him lose a lot of value if I ever sell him.

-Well, well, I understand -said Adam, dropping the wand-. Anyway, it's too late now. My wife is going to kill me. We'd better get going.

I don't think I've ever been so happy to hear those words in my life. I stayed there tied up while they went upstairs. I still heard them talking animatedly for quite a while until they said their goodbyes. Finally, Joe went back down to the dungeon and untied me. By then I was nothing more than a real human wreck. Joe laid me down on the table and proceeded to dress my wounds. I noticed that he did it very carefully, almost with care, so as not to hurt me.

-I don't think there are any marks left -he said, I don't know if it was for me or for himself-. He could only have given you a few scratches. Sometimes I forget what a beast Adam can be. If there are any scars, they won't be very visible-. I wondered if he really intended to sell me someday, for I did not believe that these reflections were the product of his concern for my condition. I was terrified by the prospect and, between that, the trauma I had just experienced and the terrible pain, I began to cry convulsively. Joe took me in his arms and comforted me:

-Come on, come on... it's been a hard night, I know, but you've been really good. I'm really proud of you.

I don't know what his words provoked in me, if it was contentment, relief, indignation, fury... at that moment my head was not working as it should. Joe lifted me up, still in his arms - I couldn't walk, my feet hurt as if I had fire in them - and so, almost on his back he led me to the stairs.

-Today you're going to sleep in the guest bed -he said smiling-. You've earned it...

To be continued...