1. A SLAVE'S LIFE


    Date: 3/6/2015, Categories: Anal, BDSM, Gay Male, Author: klammer, Rating: 67, Source: xHamster

    and we'd soon hunt you down. So just continue to be silent and co-operative, and it will be easier for all of us." Well, what could I do? He was right - three against one was terrible odds, and even though I was fit and strong and used to a bit of rough stuff in the ruck on the pitch, all these guys looked as if they were used to taking care of themselves. "Elbow on the table, and brace yourself!", the guy who had chained me now said, and when I hesitated slightly as I didn't know what he meant, he impatiently pushed my left elbow on to the table and kind of flattened my hand on the area between my pecs. "Right, boy, no flinching!", he went on. "I'm going to tattoo your shoulder here with your inventory number, and your name, so that all the guards on the estate know who they're dealing with." He got a machine that looked like one of those label makers that usually squirt plastic tape out from his tool box, and fiddled with it, turning the dial on the top this way and that, and pressing a green button every now and then. He pressed the flat end of the machine against the flesh right at the top of the arm, and pressed a red button on the machine. I felt a great stinging sensation in my arm, and pulled it away. The man was grinning at me. "There, that wasn't bad, was it? That's your inventory number done - these new rapid tattooers are clever, aren't they - five digits all at once, and no need for a specialist to come in." I went to rub my shoulder as it was hurting, and saw ...
    bl**d everywhere! "Hey..." "Shut the fuck up, slave!", he snapped. "Haven't you learned yet that slaves only answer questions, and don't speak unless they're doing so? And don't touch! That's only bl**d from the needles - it will soon dry. Just sit still, whilst I dial in your name." He was fiddling with his machine again, and soon pressed it against my shoulder again. "Right, boy, you know what's coming - just sit still as we don't want it blurred...." There was that sharp pain again as the button was pressed, and he took the machine away. "Right, Jon, that wasn't so bad, was it? You're lucky your name's only three characters...." "But I'm not Jon, I'm....." The man looked at the two guards who'd brought me in, and the one who had hit me in the Range Rover came up and struck me hard again across the face, with his open hand. I fell off the chair half in surprise, and half from the sheer unexpectedness of the attack. "You haven't learned, have you?", he said. "Remember - you only speak when you're answering a question. Didn't I tell you that as we were coming here?" "Yes..." He drew back his leg, and went to kick me, just stopping so that his boot rested against my head. "And how do we answer guards? Remember? So you don't speak, unless spoken to, do you, slave?" "NO, Sir, no." I was terrified actually - as I say, you're not used to being hit, and to the casual use of f***e against you, are you? "Now understand, Jon", he went on, "As that's your name now! We don't care what you ...
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