WEDNESDAY MORNING I breakfasted to the sight of Adam and Horse on the website's live video feed doing "squats". This involved them facing one another with barely an inch betwen them. They both had heavy weights in each hand. Adam would squat slowly, back straight, arms down. Once fully down he would press his tongue against Horse's erect cock and lick its entire length along the underside from balls to piss slit. Then he would slowly rise to standing. The move ended with him spitting in Horse's face. Then Horse would repeat the process. The exercise would continue until one of them either broke form or shot his load. As I sipped my morning coffee I noticed that the website forum had gone wild. Mackey's permanent enslavement to Cheveney was proving to be a hot topic. A few were complaining that they wouldn't get to see Mackey on the web site any more, though they tended to offer suggestions for who should replace him. The rest, however, were raving about just how turned on they had been by the sight of the stud on his knees begging for a lifetime's slavery. Would Adam or Horse be next, they asked. Perhaps most surprising was the number of cash offers made to buy Mackey. Least surprising was the number of suggestions to Cheveney for how he should treat his new possession. I also received a private message from an employee of Lomas Sr. They had spun tales of the outrageous, but money-spinning, events at the College's Rag Weekand how Adam was responsible for many of them. Adam's father had, apparently, been delighted at his son's entrepreneurial streak and had decided to patronize the event himself to congratulate his son. Logging in to Adam's email account I found a message from his father saying he would be over at 7pm after work. His father's tone about the "faggots" that Adam had arranged to perform made me realise that the apple had not fallen far from the tree with father and son. The hard part was to guess the tone that Adam would use with his father under such circumstances. I checked his outgoing emails to get some idea of the language he used and opted for a short message. "Hey Dad. Good to hear you like my little scheme. Have a freebie on me. Ill put Number One Faggot in a room just for you. G304 off the Gym. Coach will let you in. Txt me when youre done and Ill collect you." I clicked SEND and started to plan how to utterly destroy Adam Lomas' last traces of self-respect. On screen, Horse shot a huge load all over Adam's face. Horse was dragged off for the loser's forfeit - being the star of a very special Rag Week event. Adam was taken to the bed for his winner's reward and tied by the wrists and ankles to its four corners. He was also gagged. For his reward a woman was going to have sex with him, his first heterosexual intercourse since he was enslaved. I had contacted Marsha through a web site for men with a fetish for grossly obese women and to my eyes she was the most disgusting sight imaginable. She waddled into the room, discarding a tent-scale dressing gown as she came onto camera. Adam's eyes bulged with horror as she approached. Adam treated his body as a temple and took great care of it. His sense of aesthetics pushed him towards fit bodies in others. The monster preparing to mount him was straight out of his nightmares. As she climbed up onto the bed the rolls of fat hanging freely off the side of her body swung back and forth. Even her individual fingers were pudgy as she stroked his cock hard and rolled a condom over it. Ripples ran over the fat in her thighs as she knelt over Adam's cock, gripped lightly and pointing straight up. With a sigh of pleasure she sank slowly down on it, enveloping his upper thighs and lower abs in her hanging, flabby flesh. As she started working herself up and down on his mighty cock the look of pleasure on her face was matched only by the look of nausea on Adam's. I wondered how long it had been since a non-plastic cock had managed to make its way through her layers of flab. Marsha was definitely enjoying this treat. More than once the layers of fat shook with her orgasms before, finally after thirty minutes, Adam came himself for the first time that morning. The woman mounting him was a complete turn-off so it was taking him as long as it ever had to climax, but ultimately his cock would not be denied. And Marsha was not going to be satisfied with a single shot. She had been promised Adam until she had drained him dry. Horse, meanwhile was being treated to the loser's forfeit. A towel had been slung around his waist to move him to one of our public buildings where he had been taken down to an under-used room in the basement. He was tied, standing up and spread-eagled in the middle of the room, minus towel of course. For a ten pound Rag donation a customer could enter the room alone and do whatever he wanted with Horse for four minutes (other than damage him permanently, untie him, or fuck him without a condom). We made them strip naked too in the "waiting room" next door so they couldn't smuggle anything into the room. Afterwards, each would get the four minutes video footage sent to them and Horse would get a sixty second break, and sometimes a mouthful of water. Of course, four minutes wasn't enough to seriously abuse Horse at all but the variety drove him mad: gut punchers, arse fuckers, ball squeezers, plenty of cock strokers, glute spankers and many more all laid into Horse for their time in the room. This would last all day with only some ten minute breaks for protein shakes and the toilet. The customers flocked to the room. I had sent invitations out to a select group of people in addition to the gym rats. These people had then invited some of their hottest, cutest friends to come along for the short torture sessions. The waiting room was filled with naked men and, after some careful planning, the students had all gone first. By 10am the room was full of beautiful men who were happily stripping off and joking about what they might do to the poor slave boy. But none of these men were gym rats or website members; they were all the invitees of those gym rats and members. And at 10am all the hidden cameras in the changing room went live, streaming their content to the web site. The invitations I had sent out were quite specific. If you wanted blackmail material on any cute stud or studs now was the time to get it. The general nudity in the waiting room was available to all web site members but each member was also sent the video footage of each of their invitees torturing, teasing and tormenting Horse. The website discussion boards would act as a brokering service for people who wanted help bringing down their blackmail victims. Indirect invitations had gone out to amateur rugby clubs, soccer teams and other sportsmen. A group invitation had gone to one whole watch in the local fire service (sent by a member of a different watch). Construction workers used their lunch breaks to accept these wacky invitations handed to them by their foreman. None of them could believe just how sick the College's Rag Week had become but nearly half of these secondary invitations were accepted! Over the course of the day video after video was taken for future sexual blackmail and entrapment purposes. If you want to run a successful web site it's important to reward your loyal customers. At about eleven thirty Marsha finally finished with Adam and the camera feed from his room went dead. Adam was bundled off to the shower room to be hosed down and dressed for lunch. For lunch he was given two plated salads on a tray and told to present himself to the librarian. For the trip he wore a tight mesh tee that stopped mid-way down his abs and a pair of tight running shorts slit all the way up the sides, exposing his enticing bulge at the front and his glutes' bulges at the rear. I told him to give the librarian his blow job, obviously, but required him to strip off completely for it this time. On his return (minus tee shirt) he informed me that yes, he had given the librarian a naked blow job and had even been fed his own lunch while on his knees in front of the librarian. However, he had discovered - to his cost - the librarian's personal fetish. The librarian liked spanking people. Inside the librarian's office, with the blinds tilted to hide what happened, the librarian had tipped Adam over his knees and pounded his arse twenty five times on each buttock. He had made Adam keep two separate counts for each butt cheek and, because Adam had got it wrong once, had deprived Adam of his tee shirt. To punish Adam for his loss of an item of clothing, I sentenced him to spend the rest of the afternoon being butt-fucked. This was going to have happened any way, but this let Adam feel even worse. I had jury-rigged a device for Adam. It was a standard stock, holding neck and wrists, but low enough to force the body to bend over at the waist. There was a horizontal pillory attached to the rear of it to hold his ankles spread well apart. The special item was a big black curtain which covered the stocks, so that his head and hands were not visible to the person fucking him. I placed a blindfold over his eyes and some headphones over his ears playing a loop of the track of him begging to cum we had recorded some while previously. Finally I gagged him with a whistle gag. Every time he tried to speak, or even gasp hard, it issued a yazoo-style noise, stopping him from speaking. Next to his waiting arse I set up a long table carrying a slipper, a broad leather spanker, and a box of condoms (together with tissues and a waste basket). To check it was all working I spanked him once with each item and then fucked him, leaving the used condom in the basket. I didn't want any particular customer to feel they were first. Finally, I dropped a message to the gym rats letting them know of the treats waiting for them all afternoon - in room G304. Wednesday afternoon was quite peaceful. Adam had a series of anonymous fucks and Horse was driven to near madness by the unending sequence of brief torments, but I had nothing to do except answer the web site correspondence and get some paperwork done. Gym membership was at an all-time high, and that led to a revision of our risk register. I day-dreamed blissfully of entrapping a risk-register-demanding auditor in our honey trap as I worked my way through the meaningless drivel. At six o'clock I tidied away some of the life-size cardboard cut-outs of Adam, and took down some of the other incriminating photographs around the place. Just after seven, I got a text on Adam's phone from hiss father that he was just arriving at the front of the College. I texted back "room G304" and shooed away anyone else wanting to partake of Adam's delicious arse. Ten minutes later Lomas Senior appeared at the top of the stairs. He was in his late forties and, while not gym toned, clearly lived an active life. "Mr Lomas?" I enquired. "Adam's tied up with some Rag business. He asked me to show you the highlights of the money-making operation. I have to say, without your Adam we would never had made anything like as much as we have this year." Senior smirked but there was a look of genuine pride under it. "'S my boy. Brought him up not to compromise on anything." "Oh, there's definitely no compromise with Adam," I reassured him and showed him into the room. Question: Would he recognise his own son from the arm-pits down? Mr Lomas almost bent in two with the strength of his belly laugh. "Fuck. They weren't kidding, were they? Who is this poor bastard?" Answer: Apparently not. "His name for Rag purposes is Cocksucker Number One. You don't get to see his face. It's like a classical glory hole but backwards. Anyway, I'll leave you to it. Tease, spank, fuck, whatever you want." Lomas Senior watched me leave the room. On the website video feed, from a concealed camera, we saw him slowly approach his own son's magnificent buttocks. He started with the slipper but soon spent more time feeling up the muscular glutes between strokes than he spent spanking them. The whistling gag gave him a fit of the giggles, but he soon got back to spanking and fondling. One of his hands crept deeper and deeper into Adam's crack while another started stroking his dangling cock. Then, after a short hesitation, he pushed a fingertip against Adam's much-abused hole. Adam received it easily and his father wiggled it a bit inexpertly. Adam squirmed and the gag let out a pitiful whistle as he moaned. His father was turned on by this and simply pushed deeper with his finger and tugged on the erect cock. Then Adam's father stepped back and took his jacket off. He unzipped his trousers and pushed them and his Y-fronts to his knees. His cock was already hard and he pulled on one of our complimentary condoms. He glanced nervously over his shoulder at the closed door and then grasped his son's waist. Adam knew what was happening and arched his arse up provocatively. His father slowly, and rather nervously, pressed his cock home. The waiting sphincter offered essentially no resistance and Mr Lomas began a slow, patient fuck of his own son. Lomas Senior obviously thought this would be his only opportunity to fuck arse in his life and was determined to take his sweet time. His strokes were slow but firm. His hands ran all over the body of the bound teenager. The sounds coming through the gag showed Adam to be getting more and more aroused himself. All his previous fuckers in the stocks had been fast and furious. This one was taking his time and Adam was responding well to that. Adam's father started tweaking Adam's nipples, twisting them to and fro between his thumb and forefinger of each hand. He started licking Adam's back near the top his spine and let a hands drop down from the nipples. One went back to gripping Adam's waist and the other dropped to Adam's quivering cock. He began to stroke Adam's cock, determined to get an ejaculation from his bound, anonymous bitch. Marsha had drained Adam earlier, but he was a teenager and was capable of at least some cum. After fifteen minutes of being fucked by his own father he shot a small load onto the wood of the stocks. Two minutes after that his father shook as his own orgasm swept over him and he shot a load into his son's bowels but he didn't pull out, obiously savouring the novel experience. Lomas Senior liked to talk after sex, and he lent down low over his son's body and started talking. I switched the sound feed so Adam would hear the voice of the man who had just fucked him: "Oh you gorgeous fucking bitch. You were just made to be fucked by real men like me and my son, Adam." Adam suddenly started and desperately started to squeeze his father's cock out of his hole. The whistle gag began a non-stop shriek of yazoo piping. His father was delighted by the sudden extra sensation on his cock and completely misinterpreted the situation. "Oh yeah, my son is Adam Lomas, Rag organizer and you're his bitch. You'd better be worried because if this isn't a perfect fuck, I'll ask him to make you suffer even more. I'm sure Adam will forgive me if I break a few rules and come round to the other side of that curtain to fuck your face. You had better make this the best fuck I have ever had or I'm going to expose you to the world!" Adam, clearly desperate to stop his father from discovering the awful truth started to press back against his father and give him a good fuck. Over the days and nights of his slavery he had learnt how to give ultimate pleasure to a firm cock clenched deep within him and he started to use all those skills to keep his father in ecstasy, and on the far side of the curtain from his guilty face. Now that Adam was cooperating again, his father took the time for a second long, slow fuck. Adam didn't get to cum again, but his father did after ten more minutes of sexual bliss. I used the time to grab Owen out of the gym and to arrange some other assistance for later. Then, as I saw the signs of him cumming, I tapped on the door. "Mr Lomas, everytihng OK in there?" Mr Lomas was still straghtening his clothes as he emerged from the room. With a cocky grin on his face that he had clearly passed on to his son he thanked me and enquired after his son's whereabouts. "Nearby," I told him truthfully. "He's going to meet you in the cafeteria. I'll get someone to show you the way." Owen happily took Mr Lomas away, bubbling over with praise for how much money Rag had raised from Adam's efforts. I went in to see Adam. I untied him and pulled him into the showers where we hosed him down with warm water. As he was sobbing and could barely stand with the horror of what had happened. We held him still and dried him off with rough hands as I explained the situation to him. "How could you? He's my father..." Tears poured down Adam's cheeks. I slapped Adam round the face for talking without permission. "Slaves don't have families. They share genetics with some free men." We let our hands run all over his exquisite body and he squirmed at our touch. "Slaves don't have friends. They just have people who abuse them less than others." I had him put on a pair of dark purple jogging pants. "Slaves don't have any choices. They just have orders to obey." We dressed him in a matching hoodie and zipped it up to his neck. "Your orders are to get your father to regale you with the tale of his gay encounter with Cocksucker Number One." I slipped a small voice recorder into his pocket. "All the hot, juicy details. Now get to the cafeteria. You shouldn't keep your Dad waiting." Owen rejoined us ten minutes later having spent the time chatting to Mr Lomas, explaining to him that the most useful thing he could do for Rag was to explain to Adam what aspects of "the cocksucker show" had worked and what could be improved. Owen had enthused to Lomas Senior about how Adam could get the cocksuckers to do almost anything, no matter how depraved, to keep their identities secret. Owen had said that he was convinced the cocksuckers secretly enjoyed the humiliation and abuse, and Mr Lomas had ageed, being a fervent believer in people having a "natural position" in any human society. Owen hadn't mentioned that Adam's natural position seemed to be on his knees, sucking cock. The gym carried on that evening, almost unnaturally calm in the absence of naked slaves to abuse or to compete for. At closing time we retired to the showers and I had Horse fetched to bring his day of torment and torture to an end. At roughly the same time Adam came back to face me. Horse and Adam were both stunned into silence, with blank looks in their eyes of men who couldn't take any more. The entire gym turned to laugh and to jeer as they entered. I unzipped Adam's hoodie and slipped it over his shoulders to fall to the floor behind him. I pulled the voice recorder from his pocket and checked the time elapsed. He had left it running for the entire time with his father. I would upload it later. I watched as the class started stroking and fondling the two slaves. Adam's jogging pants were pulled down and he was left as naked as Horse, his exposed cock and arse getting their fair share of the attention. I pointed them both at the gym class, surrounding them. I told the class to discard their towels for a moment. "Do you see them? They are naked too, but they are free men. You exist only to serve them. Only to please them." Almost to a man, the gym rats were stroking their cocks, staring greedily at the two slaves. "They get to cum when they want. You get to cum only when - if - given permission." I led the two slaves into the showers and had them lie on the ground, arms and legs widely spread. "They get to cum wherever they want. Slaves get told where." I faced the following men. Most of them were ready to pop within minutes. "The free men are going to take turn standing astride your bodies and wanking. They are going to cum all over your faces and bodies. After each cum shot you will thank them. You are going to lie there, lifting your bodies to us and telling us how hot it is to be our cum dump slaves. Make it hot, make it slutty, and make it real or be punished. You are going to do this because you are slaves and I am ordering you. You get no say in the matter." "Yes, master," they both replied, their voices dead. I took position over Adam and waved for Owen to stand over Horse. "Please Master, let me feel your hot cum on my face," Adam began, poorly faking enthusiasm. "Again. This time with feeling," I told him. He repeated the line, louder at least, if not more passionately. Horse followed suit as Owen took position over him. I had been stroking on and off all day waiting for the glorious moment when Adam discovered that his own father had fucked him. Within a minute I shot a full load all over his face and a second load over his chest. I shuddered as I popped out a little more cum, and shook loose the last few strands hanging from my slit. I walked over to a sink and quickly washed my cock and hands. Behind me I heard Adam start his verbal encouragement for my replacement. Owen was my A/V tech support and I wanted him clear of the action before I started my next stage. Once he had cum, washed and left we pulled on a pair of shorts and grabbed a couple of video cameras from my office. Then we went into the shower room to record the action. I've commented before how used the guys were to cameras now, even when they were nude. They knew the slaves were the focus of attention, and indeed they were, but the gym rats didn't care if they drifted into view from time to time, or if their abuse of the slaves was captured, including their bodies and faces. I had had huge numbers of requests for more pictures of the rest of the gym studs. There had even been suggestions for voting on a new slave to replace Mackey. I wasn't quite ready to open up a new section of the web site, but I thought a little material like this might help, just in case. In the end, they took an hour to all cum on Adam and Horse. The two men were utterly covered in male juices and we let the video pan over their glistening bodies to capture every drop. But I wasn't done yet. I had them stand up and each one had to smear the cum over the other's entire body, back as well as front, legs and arms as well as torso. Towards the end of this I had them hug each other close, their legs, groins and torsoes pressed firmly together, and their mouths in a sticky french kiss. Then I had a long catering roll of cling-film brought in and we wrapped them together from the ankles to the necks. "They say cum is really good for the skin. Let's see what six hours of it does to yours." Two of the guys who had pulled on some clothes picked up the double mummy and carried it back to Adam's bed. THURSDAY I had arranged for some of the early birds to start the day with the grand unwrapping. They brought a small bowl of water to Adam's room and peeled the cling-film from their disgustingly sticky bodies. The cum, mixed with their overnight sweat had remained moist as we had hoped. They looked longingly at the water, praying that they would soon be allowed to wash, even if it was simply another entertainment for the camera. Interestingly, after a night of pressing their hard, sticky bodies against each other, they were still both quite hard. The water bowl was slid forward and they were given their orders. "You are to lick each other clean, taking turns with one lick per turn. You can run your tongue along the other's body for a single stroke, though it can be as long or short as you want. You then swallow whatever you have licked up. This will be fairly salty. At any point you may skip your lick and lap at the water bowl for five seconds instead. Once you think you have licked the other person clean say so. If you are wrong you lose. Otherwise, the first person to successfully lick the other clean wins. Oh, and you don't want to lose. Really, you don't want to lose. So make sure you clean each other well." They were set to work, and they discovered to their horror that this process can take over two hours. The camera captured every moment of it, as people woke to a relaxing pair of tongue baths on their computer screens. Pictures of Adam licking between Horse's toes, of Horse sucking out Adam's ear, of Adam wiggling his pointed tongue in Horse's navel, and so on flew across the internet. Horse was the first to finish cleaning Adam, having worked out the trick of building up a decent amount of saliva in the mouth before each lick. And, after he pulled his tongue out from Adam's arse, Horse declared that Adam was clean. To give him a prize we had Adam finish cleaning him off and then put Horse at the window, tied hand and foot at the four corners. His prize was Adam tonguing his arse hole for a full hour or whenever he came, whichever came first. Well, Horse shot his load after only twenty five minutes, giving a great show to the live watchers in the lay-by opposite the window, some of whose camera lenses were becoming quite impressive. After that we swapped in Adam at the window, placed Horse behind him and had Horse rest his rigid cock vertically between Adam's butt cheeks, and to very slowly and gently stroke Adam's cock. His goal was to edge Adam for one hour. If he felt playing with the rest of Adam's body would help then he could do so but must never remove his cock from the grip of Adam's firm glutes. Adam's agonies were beautiful to behold. Horse was something of a master tease and Adam was soon writhing under Horse's touch. Of course, his movements pressed him back against Horse half the time and his butttocks squeezed and relaxed around his assailant's rigid member. Hore's fingers squeezed and pinched Adam from ear lobes to scrotum. He stroked Adam's shaft with exquisite gentleness, lubricated by Adam's non-stop feed of pre-cum, as the cock twitched and shook with the need to burst. He took his liberally lubed finger tips and started circling Adam's nipples. Horse knew what he was doing. Horse came before Adam did, shooting a small load up the small of Adam's back. We gave them both a thirty minutes break. We fed Adam some water to make up what he had lost in sweat and tears. It took twenty minutes for his cock to even begin to go down. Horse's went down much faster, so at the end of the break, we had Horse stroke himself rigid again, wipe the cum off his hands in Adam's hair, replace his cock in Adam's arse crack and start again. We didn't need to worry, though. Horse had seen Adam cum often enough to know his tells intimately, and was able to get Adam hard but not cumming within minutes. Then we had Adam edged for a further hour and a half. Owen set up a video feeed from the lay-by to give the web site clients a perfect face-on view of Adam's torment and mixed it with the audio track from the room itself as Adam became increasingly hysterical about his need to cum. Adam was disappointed. After the second session we fed them some more water, had Horse carefully sponge down Adam's tied body and apply ice to his desperate cock. We pulled Horse back all the way. We all had rigid members after the show and needed them sucked off. And as number two cocksucker, we reminded him, he needed the practice. Once the three of us in the room had all been sucked off, we returned to Adam. I had him untied and dressed in very loose jogging shorts and muscle-T. Gerry tied Adam's wrists behind his back and led Adam off to make his last payment to the librarian. Gerry took the library book for Adam to return, but was really there to make sure that Adam didn't cum before his appointment. Even before Adam left the room, though, we could see the pre-cum staining the front of his shorts. If the librarian endulged his love of bare arse spanking then he would be in for a sticky treat, I was sure. Gerry came back ten minutes later confirming that he had untied Adam's wrists just outside the library and seen him proceed directly into the librarian's corner office. The librarian had flipped his sign to "closed", locked the door and tilted the blinds shut. Gerry was optimistic. While we waited for Adam to return, I set Horse to stand in the window, feet spread shoulder-width apart and to start "cock dancing". This involved shaking and twisting his body in an erotic fashion, running his hands all over his skin and shaking his hips so that his huge cock kept swinging. Adam was a while coming back and we fed Horse his lunch as he danced. We finger-fed him pieces of cold roast chicken and raw carrots, having him suck our fingers clean, even as he danced. We gave him orange juice to drink from a novelty dispenser shaped like a huge cock. After an hour and a half, Adam came back, in tears. He was topless once again and was liberally splattered in cum from his waist band to the crown of his head. Judging from the stains in his pants the cum had gone all the way down to his groin. This time the librarian had quickly stripped Adam and made him lie back on a desk to take the librarian's cock inverted down his throat. He had even tied him in place. The librarian had been unable, however, to resist fondling Adam's balls, and Adam had almost immediately shot an enormous load over his abs, chest, face and hair, and even on the floor beyond. Looking up, Adam could see that the librarian had mounted a Go-Pro video camera on his ceiling, directly above the desk, catching every moment of Adam's humiliation. Adam's real shame was that once he had started cumming he couldn't stop. More than half a dozen times he had shot a ribbon of sweet, sticky man juice over his body as the librarian started laughing. As soon as Adam had finished shooting his loads the librarian had stuck his cock into Adam's mouth and had started vigorously throat-fucking him. The librarian hadn't made Adam swallow, but had added his load to the mess on Adam's face and chest. He had then left Adam to simply lie there, "to let it set", as the librarian ate his lunch and pottered around the office, tidying things up as if there was nothing unsual about having a naked, cum-covered stud roped to a desk in the middle of his office. Clearly there was more to our librarian than I had realised. The librarian then asked for the story behind the writing on Adam's chest. Adam had tried to evade the question but the librarian had simply taken Adam's left testicle between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed. Adam had then very quickly told him everything, up to and including his own account details on the web site. He had then been untied and given his clothes below the waist. The librarian then sent Adam back with a message for his master: "first, check that the slut is still covered in cum when he arrives, and second, send me an account so I can join in the fun." I set him an email with the cum confirmation and account details and almost immediately Adam's office humiliation video was uploaded in return. Thursday was always a quiet day in Rag Week. So, to give the slaves a rest that afternoon we simply set them up in some new glory holes and left them. The novelty of these glory holes was that either side of the cock hole were a pair of holes with sleeves attached on the far side from the customer. This would let the customer stick his hands in and grip the head of his cocksucker, while still not breaking the confidentiality of the cocksucker. Her Majesty's Government believes that Higher Education establishments should be the engines of innovation. Who are we to say 'no'? FRIDAY Friday started well when Prof Cheveney made a reappearance, accompanied by his new slave for life, Mackey. Mackey was wearing a pair of brown chinos and matching leather loafers. His thick cotton shirt had three buttons open at the neck to reveal a heavy chain and medium padlock on clear display. Pinned to the shirt was a round badge saying simply WHIP ME IF I DISPLEASE YOU Cheveney explained that while he did want to keep Mackey mostly for himself, he had no objections to friends helping demonstrate that slaves had no rights at all. At this, he gestured for Mackey to approach. His slave approached and dropped to his knees before me in a fluid, well-practiced motion. His widely-spread knees fell either side of my feet, leaving his face mere inches from my groin. "Thank you for enslaving me, master. Please may I suck your cock?" I smiled and reached to unzip, but Cheveney gestured from behind Mackey that I should not do anything. Instead, Mackey leant forward and teased out the pull tab with the tip of his tongue. He nipped it tightly between his teeth and drew it down. Nuzzling in slightly he probed with his tongue until he reached my boxers. He had clearly been practicing as he found the opening and my cock behind it almost directly. His tongue curved round my sniffening member and poppd it out, onto his waiting lips. Slowly, he ran his tongue down the length of my shaft, using his time at the bottom to make sure it was clear of any danger from my zipper. Then he sank his head down onto my cock head, swirling his tongue around it. He was clearly very sensitive to my reactions because he focussed on my preferred spots almost immediately. Then he started swallowing more and more of my cock's shaft in a series of ins and uots, each going deeper and deeper. By the time his face was pressed against my slacks my cock was pressed firmly against the back of his mouth andinto a waiting, relaxed throat. When I finally came, he kept his lips gently, but precisely closed around my twitching rod. Not a drop of my cum spilt, though I could tell he was swallowing barely any of it. He tipped his head back slightly as he opened his mouth. As he pulled back slowly from my cock I saw his mouth was still full of my cum. Cheveney smiled. "He's gone two and a half hours with a mouthful of cum before. But it does stop him licking your cock clean." "Swallow," I told him. He did so and almost immediately returned his tongue to my sticky cock to lick it clean, and my second shot hit him squarely in the face. BUGGY RIDES One of my privileges as coach is to book College facilities. This includes some of the College's lesser used buildings, like a barn used as part of the agriculture course. It's a bit weird for the coach to book a barn but the system just treats staff as a single group. We had decided to hold some Buggy Races. Entrants pid £10 for a go. They would sit in buggies (adapted trollies pulled by a naked slave) and three of them at a time would race once round the track. The winner got to fuck the slave who came last and the entrant who came last had to give a blow job to the slave that came first! This encouraged both the slaves and the drivers to go as fast as they could. I had been briefly worried that this would put off too many people, but it gave the races an edge which seemed to capture the imagination of enough people who were prepared to take part. They wouldn't have been part of the web site if they weren't up for a bit of humiliation and sex. The slaves wore boots and gloves to rotect their feet and to hold the wooden poles firmly. They also wore a "bit" in their mouths which was essentially a ball gag. Finally they were put in "blinkers". These were specially painted goggles do that they had tunnel vision directly ahead but little else. Navigation came from the buggy driver who was given a long, slender cane to control them. Smacks to the sides of the buttocks gave instructions for turning. Smacks to the back or the rear of the buttocks meant to go faster. Contestants were given five minutes to get the hang of the controls before the races started. Gambling is strictly regulated in the UK so we had to be careful about any side betting. We set up a system for each race where members of the audience could put their names into pots for Mackey, Horse and Adam. At the end of each race we would combine the two losing pots into one. Then I would pick a name from the winning pot and then a name from the losing pot. The winner of that pair then got a blow job from the loser. Those people who came with establihed partners tended to bet privately between themselves, but most of the audience came as singles and were keen to have a "dangerous" gamble. Each race started with two laps of the inside of the barn, to get the slaves warmed up a bit. Then they would emerge onto the concrete yard out the front to navigate a course laid out with pairs of flags and white chalk marks on the ground. Then they would move onto solid but rough ground as they rode round the perimeter of a field. They would then come back to the yard and then back into the barn for the finishing line. The course was deliberately winding until they got to the fields and, given their blinkers, they were naturally hesitant to go at any speed. This is where the cane came in. The slaves were forced to run far faster than they were comfortable with and to put absolute faith in their masters' ability to direct them safely. The three slavs finished the first race shaking, not from the cold, but from the terror of having run blind at such speed. The winner was Horse and his rider, though that was more due to the rider's skills than Horse's running speed. Mackey came second and Adam last. Adam was bent over his buggy, had a horse blanket thrown over him to stop him catching a chill and then the winner started to fuck him. The loser walked over to Horse, standing at the front of his buggy with a blanket of his own. The loser knelt down and stuck his head into the blanket and fulfilled his end of the bet to the wild cheers of his friends in the crowd. The audience members who didn't have their mouth full of cock cheered at the scene in front of them and there was the usual flurry of flashes from cameras. The inter-race pause was scheduled to be ten minutes long but the man fucking Adam shot his load after only seven minutes so we drew it to a halt then. The three slaves were led to a trough to kneel down and drink some water before being set back at the buggies. The next set of contestants took their places in the buggies and we were off. Between each race we slightly changed the outdoor course to stop the slaves learning the way. We wanted them to become absolutely dependent on their masters' blows to know where to go. This mind game was reinforced by the increasing amount of grime building up on their goggles, decreasing their vision each turn. After three or four races they were still being driven fast but with no idea of where they were going. By the end of the eighth and final race Horse had been fucked four times, to Mackey and Adam's two each. All three were near blind through their goggles and they couldn't get their bearings given the laughter and baying from the audience which was echoing from all directions off the barn's hard, flat walls. They were complete nervous wrecks. As a final treat for the audience we tied up the slaves spread-eagled, facing the audience. We removed their goggles to let them see what was about to happen and to see how many people were watching live and also their gags so we could hear them squeal. Then, to rapturous applause, Vince, one of our agricultural students, wheeled in a portable milking machine and attached a teat cup to each of the slaves' rigid cocks, leaving the fourth switched off. The slaves started to beg Vince not to turn it on. None had any experience of what it would be like and were fearing the worst. Vince was having none of it; flicking a switch he powered it up and the throb of the pulsator could just be heard over the crowd's cheering. "Sixty cycles per minute at a 50% suction ratio," Vince announced. I doubt the audience understood what that meant but Vince had explained it to me earlier: each pulse of the milker would last one second. During that cycle, the suction would be on for half a second. This, he believed, would be the best milking setting for the hapless studs. They in turn were surprised that it wasn't causing them pain. I wouldn't say it was comfortable but it was certainly stimulating. Within two minutes they were all starting to twist and writhe uncontrollably as their cocks got a non-stop massage. They were only tied at four points so they had mobility to show just how aroused they were by the machine squeezing and releasing their cocks. From their heads rolled back and groaning mouths down to their clenching and unclenching toes they were studies in frustrated sexual tension. "Gentlemen," I announced to the audience. "Please do come down and take a close-up look of our three prize horses - currently being put out to stud. Touching the goods is not just permitted; it's encouraged. Please note that Adam and Horse will suffer an additional punishment for each time they orgasm, so please look out for any unauthorized ejaculations." The crowd didn't need any further prompting. Fifty-plus people descended on the bound men and started to stroke, poke, tease and tweak their helpless flesh. After quarter an hour of teasing things settled down to people taking photographs of one another standing between pairs the milk cows, often with hands on the bare flesh to either side. We pulled out their horse tails but asked people not to fuck them to avoid any unwanted stimulation of the prostate. We wanted to see what the milking machine could do on its own. What it could do, apparently, was make Adam cum first. Less than twenty minutes of the evil machine's sucking at his cock was enough to make him shoot his first load of the show, despite his attemtps to hold it in. "And Adam cums first!" I declared. He gets to pick one picture showing him with face exposed, clearly being treated as a slave which I will post to a public mailing list. Each time one of the gym's two slaves cums they will have to pick an additional picture, each more extreme than the previous." Both slaves let out tiny sobs of panic and I saw them both double down on clenching up against any more orgasms. The audience's cheers turned into a brief chant of "cum! cum! cum!" but after a further five or so minutes Horse shot a load and then there were just cheers and jeers. I waited until Adam and Horse had recovered their wits and were focussed on not cumming any more than they had to. Then I handed round the bottles of baby lotion for people to start rubbing over all three tight, muscled bodies. The combination of the milking machine and the oiled hands rubbing over their bodies left them no option. They were going to orgasm multiple times tonight. And for at least two of the slaves, pictures were going to spread. At about seven o'clock the orgasm score was Adam: 3 and Horse: 2. To keep things going I moved on to the paying guests' next treat. We had them put their names into a pot for a raffle. Three tickets would be pulled from the pot. These lucky winners would get to fuck the bound slaves tied into the milking machine for an hour. However, we would also pull a loser's card from the pot and the unlucky person there would take the fourth slot on the milking machine! The odds were three-to-one in each contestant's favour, but how brave were they feeling? I don't know if they were brave, but they were certainly horny and horny people make bad choices. Name after name was handed to me. In the rush they didn't see me crease the edges of some card with my thumb nail as it went into the pot. Hot, sexy men I wanted to see stripped naked and milked got a crease. Plain men had their card put in undamaged. I walked next to Adam and let my hands wander over his straining body for a minute. Then I reached into the pot and called out "Martin Parsons!" Martin was a business man of about the same age as Adam's father. He had already hung his jacket up on a hook and removed his tie, and his trousers and underpants fell to his ankles almost before he got to position behind Adam, so keen was he to claim his prize. I moved to Horse and repeated the process. David Segal was a local fireman and recently the proud owner of blackmail material on another watch at his station. He was more calm as he moved and was rather proud of his body as he slowly stripped behind Horse. He rolled on a condom and very, very slowly slid into Horse's shaking hole. He took his time with a slow thrusting motion, letting his hands feel every ridge of Horse's slick, muscled body. Next to Mackey I called out that we were grateful to his owner that Mackey was also available for the night. Cheveney took a bow and I offered him the chance to pull the name from the pot. The winner was Graham Allison, a local farm worker and neighbour to my friends Greg and Kyle. He was another patient man, politely thanking Cheveney as he stripped off to the cheers from his co-workers he had come to the show with. Casting my eye over them I noticed that four of the eight hot guys were in that party. With Graham balls deep in Mackey there was a three in seven chance that it would be one of them plugged into the milking machine. I stood next to Mackey, at the end of the line of slaves. "Are we ready for milk cow number four?" I asked the audience. There were forty-odd cards in the pot. The constestants looked at each other, some nervously, some cockily. They all thought the odds were forty-to-one. Actually, for a select seven the odds were much closer. "Matthew Harriman!" I shouted. Another of the farmers was grabbed by his laughing friends and pushed to the front. I gestured to the rig where we had three slaves tied up being milked by machine and fucked by human. He hesitated and was almost immediately jumped by the people around him. Laughing, they pulled his clothes from him and marched him to the ropes. They worked on a farm and knew how to operate the milking machine. Within moments Matthew was squealing in the grip of the suction pump. What was particularly telling was that once that was done they picked up his clothes and dumped them into a bag. "We'll keep these," they said. I suspected Matthew might be in for a longer forfeit than he had expected. They took the baby lotion and started applying it to their bound buddy too. It took an hour for the fucking to finish and both Adam and Horse had orgasmed more times, under the pressure of the cocks pounding their prostates. By midnight the two slaves were drawing at seven orgasms each, the last of which had been dry in both cases. Farmer Graham had moved from fucking Mackey to tormenting his colleague. Sandwiches and tea were provided and the audience fell back to good-natured teasing of the four bound men. Vince removed the suction cups from the four sore cocks as I announced the "Adam vs Horse tie breaker": "The winner gets to keep his seven photographs off the public web. The loser gets seven added. The competition will be a single bout of no-holds-barred wrestling, with the winner being the first one to fuck the other." As the slaves hung there, we threw a tarpaulin over some hay bales and poured the remaining baby lotion over it. Then we untied the two slaves who were to fight and took them to opposite sides of the tarp. "Loser's full name will appear on the public web site for the search engines to find," I told them as we pushed them forwards. The match was erotic and farcical in equal measure. Neither party had any experience of real wrestling. The oil, as intended, made any gripping almost impossible. Hands slipped over slick skin layered over firm muscle, with no fatty layer to give any purchase. Bodies slithered through encircling arms and slid over each other. Horse tried to grab Adam's bollocks only to have them slip through his oily fingers. In return, Adam tried to grab Horse's cock only to have it slide through his fist, hardening as it went. Neither was willing to let their shame become public so both were motivated to keep wrestling long beyond the point where they would have been exhausted normally. We tilted the camera recording the milking and fucking down slightly to take in the glistening bodies writhing for the viewers' pleasure. More than one of the live audience popped their cocks out and were stroking themselves to orgasm, entranced by the scene before them. The oil and sweat was eventually mixed with the audience's own cum, and the two slaves ended up slithering about in a mix of lotion, sweat, spit and semen. But neither could spare the distraction of recoiling in disgust. We were well into Friday morning before Adam finally exhausted Horse and caught him in a full-nelson which, this time, Horse couldn't escape from. Adam's cock wasn't hard and he couldn't afford a free hand to stroke it himself, so he flicked it between Horse's buttocks and started rubbing it in the crack. Between the baby oil and the sweat he had precious little friction to work with and it took him five minutes to get hard. All this time, of course, Horse knew what was coming and tried his best to wriggle free. All that did was add to Adam's erection efforts and after the five minutes, Adam lifted his pelvis and slid his cock in. "We have a winner!" I shouted, as the audience applauded Adam's efforts. I turned to Adam. "You will now fuck Horse as hard as you can. You may not stop until given permission." Adam needed no extra encouragement. While both parties were victims of their evil oppressors, their competitive streaks had shown through and Adam din't see Horse as any sort of peer at the moment. He started slamming back and forth inside Horse's hole, the oiled flesh making slurping noises as it pressed and separated. Owen tapped away at his laptop and announced that the "public horse" part of the website was now live, and that he had picked some suitably humiliating pictures. For Horse's benefit he put the laptop in front of Horse's face as Adam tilted it up to show him the selected pictures, and an advert for the comnmercial site. He also showed him an email page with a message ready to go to a long list of email addresses with the subject line "Blackmail material" and the URL of the public pages as the sole content of the message. Horse would recognise some of the email addresses as friends of his from home. As Adam fucked him, Horse began to beg. He offered blow jobs, he offered his arse. We pointed out to him that he was a slave and that we could demand all these things anyway. He had nothing to bargain with. Horse wept, his eyes locked on the unsent message and Owen's finger poised over the keyboard. Owen looked up and me and I gestured for him to wait. "We won't send the message if you agree to be a more wretched slave than you are at the moment," I told him. I pulled Adam off him and turned him over to look at me. "The public web page, and the photos and your name all come down and the email gets deleted unsent if you agree to the same terms as I offered Mackey: lifetime enslavement." I reached down and grabbed his limp cock. "And this will go into a chastity cage. For ever." That was too much. Horse chose differently from Mackey. "Send it," he whispered. I nodded to Owen who clicked the button and Horse's shame was transmitted to his old friends from home. Many of them would avoid a subject line like that, assuming malware or spam. But some would follow through and when Horse went home for Christmas he wouldn't know who knew, or what they might demand to keep quiet about it. The audience cheered, their sadistic hearts warmed by the latest degradation. As they filed out the Rag collecting bucket rattled non-stop with additional donations from very happy customers. Cheveney took Mackey home and Matthew's "friends" tied his hands behind his back to march him out naked. Owen, Vince and I packed up the kit while the two remaining slaves knelt on the tarpaulin, covered in slime, barely able to stay awake. In the end we rolled them up in the messy tarp and carried that back to the college between us. They could wash off in the morning. SATURDAY The Rag Committee were worried about our plans for Adam and Horse. The tradition for Saturday was to set up everything in a single large marquee and give it a carnival atmosphere. Unfortunately, this gave us very limited scope for our usual money-raisers without drawing unwanted aattention from the "normals". The male members of the committee all came visiting to discuss the issue with me. The negotiations took an hour as there were eight of them and only three slaves' mouths, but by the end we decided that we would run three glory holes tucked behind thick curtains. The curtained off area would be unmarked. Unless people knew where to go there was precious little chance of a disaproving busy-body coming across our little bit of fun. Adam looked relieved. He knew that he would never get away without at least sucking cock and having it take place behind the anonymity of a glory hole to mask his shame made it bearable for him. He knew that a number of his father's employees would be coming to the fair, though his father would be in the final stages of flying out of the country and would be driving his wife to the airport while the carnival was in full swing. Adam would have been less relieved if he knew the truth. Each of the three boxes we had locked the slaves in came equipped with a small camera. Outside, unbeknownst to them, were three monitors, one over each hole. The anonymity would only run one way, and each customer would see exactly who was sucking his cock. Each visitor would also get a glossy print from the camera feed with a time stamp marked on it next to the URL for the website, should they choose to join up. Truth be told, most of the cock suckees were already members but I was hoping that they might share the printouts with some like-minded friends to boost our numbers further. Adam's horror would have been complete had he also known that his father, ever keen to encourage his children's efforts, had recommended a visit to the Rag carnival to all his employees. There was a queue that day for glory hole number one as every man Adam would be working with that vacation got an early taste of the pleasures to come. Of course, all good things must cum to an end, and the Rag Carnival finally wound down around midnight. Our punters left with the warm glow of knowing they had contributed to charity and the feeling of utter relaxation that comes from expertly given blow jobs. Normally, the students would do most of the tidying up on the following Sunday, taking away only what had to be on the Saturday night. But this time we had three slaves, all stiff from their day sucking cock. We lay back and shouted orders as they did all the heavy lifting and scurrying around. By about five o'clock on Sunday morning the inside of the marquee was all packed up and ready to be collected. The marquee itself would be taken down by professionals on the Sunday afternoon. Cheveney took Mackey away for his personal use and the dozen Rag guys and I were left alone with just two slaves. Rather than let the slaves sleep we had an idea for one last "event". The Rag committee's men laid back on a sheet in two rows of six. Each pulled out their cocks and started stroking them hard. I put a box of condoms at the end of the two rows. Adam and Horse were assigned a line each. They would have to roll a condom onto a cock, and then lower their arses on to the cock and fuck themselves with it until it came. Then they would move on to the next cock and do the whole thing again. The winner would be the first to make all six of his men cum. but the winner would still hve to complete his row. At the end, the loser would have to swallow the content of all twelve condoms. We had packed up the cameras so we couldn't record the event, but most of the twelve recorded their personal turns on their own phones. Adam beat Horse by a cock and a half, after an hour and a half. We had Adam squeeze the condoms into Horse's mouth one at a time for Horse to swallow. Adam was then told to invert each condom on his fingers so Horse could lick it clean. By the time he was finished it was coming up to seven in the morning and Adam was told to run back to his room for one, final camera show before he left for home for the winter break. As the Rag guys went back to their rooms for bed, I held on to Horse for a little longer. Horse was scared of going home and was putting it off until the the last possible moment. I, on the other hand, wanted some of the personal service Cheveney was getting. I was dog tired and the thought of going to bed with a naked, fit and obedient slave seemed very appealing.