Poor Simon

*Hello again for part two of Poor Simon!

This is just a disclaimer from your author. The following submission includes non-consent, domination, gay activities, fear, and emotional stress. For those who think I am a sadist, you may be right, but keep hope, for brighter days are on the horizon for Simon.

All characters in the following piece are 18+.

This is a work of fiction from my erotic imagination, human trafficking is a very real and sick thing and I do not endorse it one bit.

With that said, please enjoy the second installment of Poor Simon...*

*

When I woke up I was blindfolded. I felt a surge of despair, but I was so frightened by the conditions in which I woke up, that I didn't really have time to dwell on it. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself, and then I carefully took stock of my situation.

I was in a warm place. My body felt clean, so they must have cleaned me when I was unconscious. I could feel light sweat from the warmth of the room on my chest and forehead and between my legs.

My body was in a vulnerable position. I was laying on my back on a reclining leather seat, like something you would sit on at the dentists; except at the dentist's, my arms were never shackled above my head. My wrists were in soft, padded shackles, and my legs were suspended in the air in separate shackles that swung slightly when I kicked.

Not only was I blindfolded, but a fat ball of rubber was jammed between my teeth and tied around the back of my head in a knot that dug uncomfortably into the back of my skull. I was not entirely naked this time, but that was no comfort to me because my one article of clothing was a piece of tiny, girlie underwear that felt insubstantial and flimsy.

"So you've finally woken up, Simon?"

A warm hand twined into my hair and I flinched a little. The new voice wasn't the reedy tenor of the Doctor, or the lewd sneer of Hanson; it was warm and low, like distant thunder on a summer evening. I was blind and gagged and trussed up like a damn turkey, but that voice, and that gentle touch, they soothed me, just a bit. Then he grabbed my cock.

I let out a strangled cry and tried to struggle away as his hand moved away the flimsy fabric of the girlie panties. His hand left my hair and I let out a muffled scream as something flexible and burning snapped against my ass. The man released my cock and whipped me four more times as I let out muffled cries of surprised pain. Tears came to my eyes to be soaked up by the blindfold.

"Don't struggle, Simon. If I think you should have pleasure, then you should enjoy it, not pull away."

He touched my cock again and I let out a humiliated, shocked cry.

He chuckled. "You are a very good find, Simon. If whipping you makes you so hard, then the most difficult part of your training is already over."

His warm hand curled around my swollen cock and I flinched. I was so afraid that he was going to whip me again that I gave a little sob of relief when he began petting my hair again. I had almost forgotten his hand around my cock, until he squeezed lightly. I whimpered and arched, trying to get away but only thrusting my penis even further into the warm cradle of his fingers.

"Poor Simon." He whispered as his fingers slowly slid up and down my shaft. "I know things must be terribly confusing right now, but I am going to answer your questions. Before I answer your questions you must follow certain rules about speaking."

I moaned. I could barely comprehend him. He kept stroking me and it felt so good and so bad and I was covered in sweat. I tried to listen. I wanted to know what was going on and why I was here.

"The first condition. Always address me as Master or Sir. If you are feeling especially formal, you can call me Master Anthony."

I whimpered as his hand left my hair, I thought that he was going to whip me, but then he touched my nipples. His rough fingers were gentle and I felt myself moving so my nipples and penis were more firmly in his grasp. I needed to come so badly that my body was almost reacting by itself.

"The second condition is very simple; only speak when spoken to, or allowed to. The third condition is to use your brain whenever you speak to me. You no longer have free will, or free speech. My colleagues and I can punish everything you say, if it is felt that it was disrespectful or stupid. You are just beginning your training, so for every mistake you make you will receive ten lashes. It will be more as your training continues."

I screamed through the gag and my body arched. His hand became slick with my come and he wiped me clean with a rough paper towel before adjusting the tiny underwear. Training?

"You have a nice amount of come. If you want to be able to speak, then you will have to eat it. Shh, don't cry Simon. There is no need for pride, or shame in your new life. It is best to lose those feelings as fast as you can. Now, can I trust you to be a good boy and lick it up? Or will I have to punish you?"

I felt so low and degraded, but I nodded feebly and nudged my head more firmly into his gentle hand as tears leaked from my blindfold.

I felt his hands untie the gag and work it out of my jaws. The corners of my mouth felt sticky and stiff. Then his wet fingers touched my lips. His other hand began to softly pet my hair, teasing the silky strands. That was what gave me the courage to stick out my tongue and lick his hand like a frightened dog.

My semen tasted bland, with a faint salty-mineral taste. It was warm and I whimpered as my stomach heaved and I gagged.

"Shh, just relax Simon." I lapped my come from his hand and cried softly the entire time, nuzzling into his gentle hand for reassurance.

When his hand was clean he stuck his thumb into my mouth and I felt the urge to suck on it, so I did. "Good boy." He murmured quietly. "You may ask your questions now, just be careful.

"Wh-where am I?"

I realized my mistake a fraction of a second too late as his hand left my head, and I screamed as his lash hissed across my ass. I writhed and wriggled and struggled, but I was tied up well, and I couldn't escape his lash. By the time he was done I was shaking and crying softly, and even though I had just come, my penis was semi-erect. With no further stimulation it quickly died down.

"Wh-Wh-where am I, M-Master?"

I gave a little moan of relief as he began stroking my hair again.

"You are in a facility on a small privately owned island in Indonesia. This facility is known worldwide as the 'Fishers'. It was a name we got in the sixties and it stuck. We are a business that collects young men and women from across the world and trains them to be companions. We do very well. Our boss is rather old-school so all of the Fish that we collect are over eighteen. He has a reputation of being very classy, and trustworthy so we have a large clientele."

I was furious. Hopeless anger and frustration and humiliation bubbled up in a massive surge, and I screamed at him with all of the hate and fear and pent-up emotion of the last few days.

"How could you!" I screamed at him. "How could you do this!"

I wanted to be silent as he whipped me. I wanted to be brave and to resist him, but I was whimpering by the third stroke. By the eighth I was sobbing with pain. He paused after the tenth stroke and I was gasping in air. I wasn't braced or ready for the next set of lashes.

I let out an agonized scream as the eleventh lash landed on my relaxed and tender buttocks. I bit my lip as he hit me nine more times, trying to muffle the agonized sounds that tried to escape.

I could hear him breathing. "You had permission to speak, Simon. What you didn't have was respect. And you still need to call me master or sir. Try again after you get your breath."

I cried for a little while. It was too much; part of me wanted to ask him questions and find out what was going on. Another part of me wanted to crawl into a corner and sleep for the rest of my life. Another aching part of me wanted to huddle into my mother's warm arms and just cry out all of the hurt and shame and worthlessness that I felt.

I didn't want to open my mouth again. I was too afraid, and I didn't want him to whip me again. If you've never been whipped, you don't know how bad it is. You feel the shame suffocating you and it is impossible to breathe without the breath being snagged in your throat and you try not to cry but you always do and that just makes it worse. His hand nestled in my hair and I felt the soft burn of shame in my throat as I huddled into him, but then I was able to speak.

"Wh-why d-did they choose m-me, Master?"

"That's better, Simon. We have several Agents in countries across the world. Our Agent was actually looking for a sexy little minx that was in class at the U of Minnesota, but he found out about you shortly after your parents' death. You were a young, pretty, feminine boy who had no guardians, no relatives, and would not be missed. That is why you were chosen.

"Since we have found you it seems that our choice was a good one. You are unusually sensitive, you are a virgin, and you are the most beautiful thing I have seen in years."

My heart was still aching from the reminder of my parent's death. I was afraid and angry because I had been kidnapped by madmen who were going to do horrible things to me. But when he complimented me in his low, pleasant voice I felt warmth bloom in my chest. I was weirdly happy that he thought I was beautiful. My brain screamed with horror that I was reacting this way.

A terrible thought ran through my head. A thought that made me feel weak and dizzy and nauseous. "Will—will those m-men come back? Will I have to do... will I have to do things to them, Master?"

His hand paused for a moment and I cringed, but he continued the petting after a long moment. "The two men—Doctor Allgood and Ben Hanson—were assigned to you. However, they were deemed incompetent. You managed to run away from them, and you are a valuable find. It was thought that if we left you with them, that they would ruin you in a week. They will still be given assignments, but lower-risk items; such as strait women who are not virgins."

I let out a sigh of pure relief, and shivered as I remembered how cruel they had been.

"Master? What will the training be like?"

"You will be in training for about three months. You will be trained to satisfy men sexually, and to be a good companion, or a pet. This will include teaching you to give oral sex, teaching you to enjoy and withstand pain, teaching you to be subservient, and being penetrated with dildos. You will not be fucked by anyone while you are here so we can sell you as a virgin. Your training also includes a rigorous diet and exercise regime to keep you lean and fit."

Just the mention of food made my stomach twist in on itself, and I tried to remember the last time I had eaten anything.

"May I have something to eat, Master?"

He chuckled; it was a nice sound. "Yes, I think we should go get something to eat. When I untie you, you are going to get on your hands and knees on the ground. If you try to run away, the whippings I gave you will seem like mosquito bites."

I could feel my face getting pale and I nodded vigorously. What an idea! What a bad, horrible idea it was to run away!

I felt a faint pang as he moved his hand away from my head to undo my shackles. When my wrists were free I rubbed the soreness from them and waited for him to undo my legs. He stripped of the blindfold and I saw my master for the first time.

Master Anthony was a tall V of a man. He had broad, workman's shoulders that narrowed down into a trim waist. His head was a broad foxy triangle, handsome and intelligent. His features were regular except for how strong they were. His cheekbones jutted out in a powerful ridge, and his chin was strong as well, with just a hint of a cleft. His eyes were dark and deep-set under his eyebrows.

His hair was dark and his skin was tanned, but not the smooth look of fake tanning. It was a tan he had gotten from the sun. He wore dark clothes that looked like a uniform. The collared shirt buttoned to the right of his torso, like a chef's shirt, and both his shirt and pants were black. It was a very sleek, stylish look.

I could feel my face getting hot as I looked at him and I flinched away as he lifted his massive hand. The fingers touched my cheek.

"Get on the floor, Simon."

I felt my face flush with blood, and I crawled onto the floor with my face feeling hot and my mind screaming at me. I was getting a fucking crush on the man who had made me lick up my own come, among other things.

My limbs were stiff and a little sore after being in shackles for an extended period of time. When I finally saw the panties I was wearing, my blush deepened. They were dark blue, with little silver stars on them, and the lace was almost see-through. I could clearly see the outline of my limp penis and testes.

He got on one knee and fastened a plain dog collar around my neck. I flinched with shame as he snapped on a leash and used a small key to lock it in place. Was he really going to walk around with me like this? I remembered the topless blonde that had been crawling around next to the black man, and I just got more frightened.

He tugged lightly on the leash. "Come on Simon, we're going to go to the dining hall."

------

It was a new and humiliating experience, crawling around on the floor like an animal. The leash made me feel like a pet dog, and I was all but naked in the humid air. Temperature wasn't the problem, but when we passed an elderly Asian man who was vacuuming the rug, I felt like I would die of shame when his dark eyes looked me up and down.

We went down the long hallway, and Master stopped at a set of shiny double doors. When he opened them, I gasped and he had to tug on the leash to get me crawling again.

It wasn't a cafeteria; it was like a small five-star restaurant. Soft music played from artfully placed speakers, and a young man in a tuxedo walked around taking orders and serving food. A few of the large round tables were half-filled with elegantly uniformed masters and mistresses. The people like me knelt under the tables at their master's sides. As I crawled I saw a slender redheaded boy nibble at a morsel of food that his master held under the table. When the food was gone the boy licked his master's fingers with a look of adoration on his face. I tried not to stare, but it was impossible.

Master Anthony headed to another table with three dominants. One was a skeletal man with Eastern European features, like Russian, or Ukrainian. One was a shorter, chubby Indian man with a dark beard and a turban. The last was a heavy-jawed blonde woman with a lot of makeup and lidded dark eyes that made me feel sick with fear when she stared at me.

"So you ended up with the little blonde boy?" the woman purred. "It's probably for the best. That brainless Hanson would have torn his cherry to shreds in under a day." Her voice was deep and throaty and her eyes were cold. "Well, let's see him, Tony, we haven't got all day!"

I looked up at Master Anthony and he was giving the woman a polite smile. He looked down at me. "Well, you heard Janice, stand up and let them look at you."

Master still had the whip in his hand and he lightly drew it across my back, so I timidly got up and nearly fell over from the rush of light-headedness. I felt so bare and exposed as they stared appraisingly at me. I unconsciously tried to cover my scantily-clad groin with my hands and I cried out as master lashed me once with the whip.

"Don't hide yourself, Simon. Your body is no longer your own and anyone who looks at you has all the right in the world to do so."

The Indian man looked up as I let my arms drop limply to my sides. "Simon? You should know better then to let your Fish keep his original name."

He was very polite, but I was so close to him that I could feel him tensing slightly.

"I have never agreed with that part of the process. It seems counterproductive to give someone a silly name if they are trying to be sexy. Something like Kitten, or Mercy, or the ever-popular Sassy doesn't seem sexy to me."

The Skinny man leaned in. He is a very good looking Fish; perhaps I can borrow him for an hour of two when he has more training. Pity that he's a virgin."

"I have never liked boys, but I wouldn't say no to that if there were no girls nearby."

"All you need to do is remove that little blemish between his legs and he could pass for one of my girls."

They were commenting on me and I felt like I wasn't even there, except for their hungry, greedy eyes on me. I was trembling with fear and uncertainty when my Master casually put a hand on my head, and started stroking in little massaging circles. I let out a small, involuntary croon, before blushing and firmly shutting my mouth.

Master was more than a head taller than I was. "Sit down Simon, and dinner will come soon."

I quickly dropped to my knees on the left side of his chair, glad to be out of sight of the dominants. Then I saw their submissives.

I felt my face flush bright red and I tried to cover my groin with my hands as three girls on leashes looked right at me and up and down. They were unashamedly looking over my bare body. I let out a little moan of humiliation and discomfort. I tried to hide behind my Master's black-clad leg.

The one at the feet of the European guy was a short, busty redhead clothed in a pale green thong and a matching bra that was so lacy I could see the aureole of her nipples. Across from me was a brunette with a lanky, athletic sort of body. She had small, high breasts and slender hips and muscular legs and arms. She was clothed in nothing but a pink thong, and her clear blue eyes were red and swollen from crying. The girl next to Janice was Dark-skinned and tall and supple, like a dancer. She was clothed in a long, purple sari that was almost completely transparent. I felt so clumsy and exposed, they were all so beautiful, so why was I here?

Master cuffed me with the whip; it was a soft blow, but I could tell that he was annoyed. I crawled from behind him and knelt, covering my groin and praying for them to stop looking at me before my face caught on fire with shame. The young waiter came to take Master's order.

"I'll have the Steak, well done. And get a light meal and some mineral water for my Fish." The waiter nodded and the others placed their orders.

I slowly got used to being naked in front of the girls. They were just like me, and each one was in a different stage of their training. At the beginning they must have all felt like this. The Redhead had given me a small encouraging smile and a thumbs up. The brunette had given me a weak smile. The black girl had given me a contemptuous sneer, but the other two girls had glared at her for that.

The food came. My mouth watered and my stomach gave a growl of hunger at the smells of filet mignon, steak, and some sort of spicy dish that made my nose tickle. Then the waiter put my dinner in front of me.

It was so small that the tiny part of my mind that still believed in fairness and equality thought that it must be a joke. On the plate was about half of a chicken breast that wafted fragrant steam to my nose. There was also a small spinach salad with no dressing, and chunk of yellow cheese about the size of a domino. The waiter also set down a wide bowl with water in it.

When I looked up at my Master I knew that it was no joke. I reached for the cheese and let out a small cry as he whipped me.

"Watch how the others are eating."

They were all eating with their hands behind their backs, and their faces in the plates. The brunette was slurping water with her face in the bowl. I shivered a little and leaned down. When my face was less than an inch from the plate I nibbled some of the salad leaves into my mouth.