chadmc90 wrote:Wow...Eric is sure in deep trouble now. You think he would of learned his lesson the last time he escaped...
Well, if he did that where would the story be? Chapter Fifteen – Slave Training School
Eric’s senses reeled as he took in what was happening to him. First his friend and co-worker Kyle tricks him in coming home with him as a houseguest, only as a ruse for his younger brothers to have a new slave to dominate besides Kyle himself. And now, dis-satisfied with Eric’s natural reluctance to be dominated by a trio of teenaged boys and attempts to escape, they were trading him off to a different group of teenaged boys (even if only temporarily) in exchange for a slave of their own they had apparently been training for a considerable time in a confined area – at least as evidenced by his pallor and utterly servile manner.
To Eric this sounded exactly like a case of jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire!
Just as Eric was foolishly about to attempt to protest this developing situation, the boy with the glasses suddenly tugged on his leash. “On your hands and knees, slave!” he commanded with a voice that hadn’t quite deepened into an adolescent pitch as yet but which obviously would brook no nonsense from a recalcitrant slave.
Eric hesitated, with a protest forming on his lips. Then he saw the three biggest of the new boys close in on him with stern looks on their faces and suddenly realized how utterly easy it would be for them to beat him up to their heart’s content – especially in his currently utterly helpless situation. Even with his hands free and his feet unfettered, he doubted he could last long if all three of these boys ganged up on him. As it was, it would be a simple matter of tenderizing meat!
Deciding he didn’t want to be further tenderized, Eric suddenly complied with glasses-boy’s command as quickly as he could manage to do so.
“That’s better,” the tall, slender boy named Bill quietly exclaimed. “I thought we were going to have to explain the concept of immediately obeying all orders for a moment there. Okay, Bobby… mount up!”
“Oh, boy!” the smallest, youngest boy exclaimed cheerfully as he hurried to Eric’s side, swung a leg over him, and sat down on the back of Eric’s shoulders. “Up, horsie!” the small boy then commanded Eric; gently kicking at Eric’s flanks with his sneaker-covered heels as if he were a cowboy with a set of spurs.
Eric looked up, saw an expectant look on the other boys’ faces, and decided that it would definitely be healthiest for him to comply as quickly as possible. Fortunately, despite his arms being shackled behind him and his feet hobbled so that his leg maneuverability was way down, it wasn’t too difficult to stagger to his feet as Bobby was so small and light. He doubted he could have done it if one of the larger, heavier boys had decided to mount his shoulders instead. Even ‘glasses’ – or, rather, Brad – would have been too much for him, small and light though he was. As it was, a groan of effort and discomfort escaped his lips (and was not entirely muffled by his hood and gag) as he did it.
“We’ll see how things go the first few days and we’ll let you know how long it’ll take,” Ben told Clark and Kevin as the two groups prepared to go their own ways. “I think though that this guy’s going to take more time and effort than Kyle did. Say, two or three months instead of just one like your brother did. After all, at least your brother was already home and among family. Your newbie here hasn’t even gotten used to being a slave yet; let alone being with you. But I’m sure Larry there will serve you well enough for the time being.”
“Oh yeah,” Kevin replied happily. “I have a few scores to settle with gold old Larry here. Take your time.”
Both Larry and Eric shuddered with sudden fear.
“Don’t mistreat Larry too badly now, or we’ll have to charge you extra,” Bill warned Kevin mildly, but he didn’t seem too put out by the idea.
“I won’t,” Kevin promised. “I’m sure I’ll have plenty of time to settle with him gradually enough to allow him to make a full recovery by the time we return him to you.”
And with some amicable farewells the two groups parted and – with the exception of Eric on one side and Larry on the other – went back the way they came.
Deciding protest was futile, Eric tamely allowed himself be led on his leash as the five Jameson brothers returned home; with Brad still holding his lash, Bobby riding his shoulders, and the other three walking leisurely alongside talking and laughing among one another.
The group walked for about a half mile and then came to a clearing of the top of a tall hill. At the far end of the clearing was a large Victorian house surrounded by a neatly mowed lawn and a number of trees and bushes that were well trimmed. The house looked as if it were well maintained and had been freshly painted. There was a chicken coop to one side with some hens wandering around in an adjacent fenced-in area, and a barn beyond this and a pasture beyond that from which the sounds of various farm animals could be heard.
Other his other side was a garden with a number of people – farm-hands apparently, with one over-seer giving orders – tending to the young seedling crops. The evident over-seer – Eric couldn’t make out his age or appearance through his hood – waved to Eric’s escort as they passed, and everyone with Eric waved back (Bobby also calling out a cheerful and noisy greeting as well). Whoever the people working the garden were, they made no sign that they ever saw Eric’s escort at all; let alone that they saw anyone unusual in their herding along a shackled, hobbled, hooded prisoner along with them. Also, though Eric couldn’t be sure, he got the distinct impression that everyone he saw there but the overseer himself were entire naked except for shoes. At least, it sure looked like he was seeing all too much skin over there.
Beyond the house, Eric could dimly see what was apparently a steep drop-off and a marvelous view of the countryside beyond. He could see little of it through the eye-holes of his hood however; nor was he given any time to pause and admire the scenery. He was simply led up to the house without being given any time to stop and look around.
Eric was led to the front of the house and made to climb up the steps to a large, beautiful front porch. He was made to duck low as they crossed the threshold into the house so that his young rider would not have to either duck or dismount to avoid banging his head. He was then marched through a front hallway and a living room (which were otherwise unoccupied by anyone) up to a door that was kept locked. Bill unlocked it and swung it open; revealing a set concrete steps that led straight down into a large cellar.
Flanked by the other boys and with Bobby still seated on his shoulders, Eric was compelled to walk down the cellar steps. It was slightly awkward with his hobbles, his wrists bound behind him, and having a rider (however lightweight he was), but the other boys stood close by and were quick to offer support should Eric show signs of stumbling – though likely more for Bobby’s sake than for Eric’s.
They party reached the bottom of the cellar, which was apparently much larger and cleaner than the one Kyle and his brothers had. In fact, it looked something like a bomb shelter, with several lights built into the side walls rather than a single fly-specked bulb dangling from a string in one corner. This cellar was evidently kept clean and well-maintained.
It was also furnished… and occupied… as Eric found out when they reached the bottom of the stairs and continued forward.
In the very center of the cellar, nestled between two large, rectangular support pillars, was a rusted metal cage roughly eight feet to a side. Inside were three boys – all evidently in their early teens – who immediately fell to their knees and bowed their heads as Eric’s captors approached. None of them said a word, but merely knelt and bowed in evident respect to their owners.
Two of the boys were rather thin and pale of complexion, as if they – like Larry – had spent a long time locked away down here away from the sun. The third however had a deep tan and had evidently – at least until recently – had spent a great deal of time outdoors. All three looked quite fit, though the paler ones were quite thin of thin while the tanned boy seemed considerably more athletic and muscular. None looked ill-fed or ill however, and while locked inside their cage none were bound with any restraints like Eric currently was. All seemed clean and healthy; apparently they were able to wash regularly. Each wore a set of clean outer shorts and nothing more, but the cellar was so warm anything else might have been uncomfortable anyway.
Eric was led past the cage with the three boys kneeling inside it; none of whom looked up or (at least outwardly) showed any curiosity about Eric himself. He was taken to a spot just beyond the cage where a large hook dangled from the end of a chain that in turn dangled from a stout pulley that hung from the ten-foot-high ceiling overhead. The chain ran down the wall through some links that held it in place against the wall.
Bill casually walked over to the chain and did something to it that made the hook lower down to eye level. Meanwhile Eric was made to kneel while his little rider discounted. At the same time, ben and Brad removed the hood he wore and then the shackles on his arms and legs. His shackles were then replaced by large leather bands -each covering virtually his entire forearm – and then over these handcuffs locked around his wrists in front of him. Some light-colored leather bands were placed on his ankles as well, but these seemed to serve as mere decoration rather than as any kind of restraint.
While the older boys tended to Eric in this manner, Bobby grabbed a bag of chips that had been sitting on a table and walked over to the cage with it. The boys inside immediately scrabbled on their hands and knees to the side of the cage facing Bobby and looked to him hopefully. Bobby pulled a couple of chips out of the bag and stuck his hand inside the cage; holding the chips out to the boys inside. The boys acted just like so many dogs begging for a treat – which is exactly what they were doing. Bobby giggled with amusement as he tossed to chips to the boy he deemed had begged the most cutely and then offered a couple more chips to them; awarding his chips to whichever boys he happened to choose. His selections seemed totally random. Even so, none of the boys in the cage protested nor even spoke a word; they merely made the same kind of begging noises a trio of puppies in the same situation would have made, and reacted to Bobby’s presence with the same evidently unaffected enthusiasm and happiness.
Eric was so distracted by the sight of this that he scarcely noticed what the rest of the boys were doing to Eric himself until he felt an upward pull on his wrists. Startled, Eric looked at his wrists, to see that the chain of his handcuffs were being pulled upward by the hook on the chain. Bill, Ben, and the tall oldest boy whose name Chad had not yet caught (Brian, as it turned out) were hauling downward on the other end of the chain to pull the hook upward – and Eric right along with it!
Eric rose to his feet – somewhat assisted by the insistent pull on his handcuffs. The hook was pulled higher, until Eric’s arms were held up above his head and he could not lower them. But to his horror the hook was pulled further upward – more slowly now that Eric’s weight was starting to pull down on it but inexorably as the three boys pout all their strength into pulling it ever upward. He was soon on tip-toes, and then, with another surge, even his toes left the floor and Eric’s body began to rise toward the ceiling.\
Eric’s captors relentlessly continued hauling on the chain; each haul causing Eric to rise another few inches off the floor. Eric began to squeal in pain as the handcuffs began to pull against his wrists; were it not for the leather padding that had been put on him first the pain would likely already be unbearable. As ti was, it was definitely far from pleasant as Eric’s 180 pounds pulled on his wrist in the opposite direction.
By the time his captors had finished pulling him upward and had secured the far end of the chain to maintain tautness, Eric’s feet were dangling three feet off the floor.
“Oww! Please, let me down!” Eric begged as his captors gathered around his and smiled up at him. “Please! I’ll do whatever you say! I’ll obey your every command! Honest!”
“You certainly well… once we’re ready to give you any,” Ben replied with a grin. “But you see; we don’t give a new slave any orders on his first day. We just torture him all we like. Then, when we tell him he gets another full day of the same whenever he disobeys an order or tries to get away, they give us very little trouble after that first day!”
“A day?” Eric wailed. “I don’t think I can stand this another minute!”
“Stand what? We haven’t even gotten started yet!” Brad cheerfully exclaimed as he walked over to a table out of Eric’s line of sight and came back with a horsewhip in one hand. He smiled as he saw Eric’s horrified reaction to the sight of it. He unlimbered the whip and gave it an experimental crack in empty air. Eric jerked as if he had been struck with it, which caused all of his captors to laugh. “You seem eager to get the preliminaries out of the way, so let me introduce you something your real masters were too gentle and too nice to teach you… proper discipline!”
“Ohhh nooo,” Eric shrieked – his legs thrashing uselessly in mid-air – as Brad proceeded with whip in hand to walk to a point behind Eric and out of his sight. “Please! DON’T!”
“Don’t be a wuss, or we’ll all take a turn with the whip,” Ben warned Eric as the sounds of the whip being whirled around experimentally tormented Eric’s ears. “Be glad it’s only Brad doing it. He’s still new at it, and still misses a lot and hits like a girl.
Eric took no comfort from this as the first stroke of the whip fell right across the fleshy part of his buttocks…
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...