Andrew suffers a severe punishment.

Andrew's Fate - Chapter 8
by David Smythe
Series: Andrew's Fate

Andrew's Fate CoverAs I lie spread-eagled on my belly I sense Abdul walking slowly round and round. Occasionally I feel the strands of his whip flicking over my buttocks and back. He says nothing as he continues to circle me, stepping over my outstretched arms and legs. I know I have been inspected by a rich Arab man and have been assessed for possible purchase as his slave. I know he owns slaves as is evident from the behaviour of the naked boy kneeling at his side, responding instantly to the click of his fingers like a trained animal, the expression of despair and sadness so evident on his face. It is clear that he treats his slaves harshly when I see the boy's buttocks as he turns. The sight of his battered, bruised and brightly striped flesh fills my mind. I can only imagine what punishment he has endured to become such a slave.

Nothing is happening as Abdul continues to circle me but then his phone suddenly rings. He speaks in Arabic. There is a long conversation but I cannot understand a word. Then he attaches a chain to my collar and orders me to my feet. He drags me from the room, across the yard to the building which I know houses Farook's quarters and pushes me inside. We pass several doors and then Abdul stops. He orders me to kneel. He knocks quietly on the door and I hear Farook's voice. Abdul opens the door and kicks me inside. Automatically, without thinking, I place my nose to the floor.

'Crawl to Master Farook slave and kiss his boots'.

The venom in Abdul's voice is clear as he kicks my ass again and I scrabble across the floor as fast as I can to where the man, whom I must call master is seated, a slave boy kneeling on the floor at his side. I hurry to lick and kiss his feet. Beside Farook, also seated is the man who has recently inspected me, his own slave kneeling, head bowed, at his side as before. Both men are completely naked. Farook kicks me away and orders me to kneel. Then he speaks. Unlike Abdul his voice is quiet and calm.

'You have disappointed me slave boy and embarrassed me in front of a very valuable customer. That is something I will not tolerate. You are not yet fully trained. I can assure you of that but you should have learned by now that any hesitation in obeying a command from a Master is unforgivable in a slave. But you hesitated when being ordered to the inspection position by Lord Hassan and also when ordered to suck his cock. You clearly have not yet learnt that lesson'.

Farook turns to Abdul. 'Rope him' he says.

Before I know what is happening Abdul reaches for the rope hanging from the ceiling and binds my wrists tightly together. Then he presses a switch on the control he is holding and my wrists are hoisted into the air. The motor buzzes until my feet are barely touching the ground. Next he spreads my legs wide, fastening each of my ankle cuffs to rings set in the floor. Now only the tips of my toes are touching the ground. He presses the switch once again and my body is stretched upwards until my toes leave the floor. Dropping the control he feels the tension in my body. He looks at Farook who extends a hand, moving it in an upwards direction. The motor buzzes again and I am stretched even more. Now the muscles in my arms and legs are really complaining from the tension in the rope and I feel I am being pulled apart. Farook leans back in his chair and speaks.

'Lord Hassan has kindly agreed to stay for refreshments before returning home and I have invited him to witness how we treat disobedient slaves here. You will now be punished for the disrespect you have shown to my honoured guest and we will both see how that punishment effects an improvement in your obedience. Proceed please Abdul'.

Abdul bows perfunctorily to the two men and collects a cane from a table at the side of the room. He swishes it twice in the air which serves to heighten my terror and then the first blow lands full square across my buttocks. My muscles recoil at the sudden searing pain but my body hardly moves; it is stretched so tightly. Within seconds the cane strikes me again and I cry out in anguish. I hear the voice of the Lord Hassan.

'I think the slave should remain silent don't you agree Farook'?

'As you wish my Lord' replies Farook. 'Slave you will be silent'.

Abdul continues with the caning as he lands stroke upon stroke across my increasingly tender buttocks. At every stroke I force my mouth tightly shut as my body recoils. I no longer feel the pain in my stretched arms and legs. Briefly I recall the purple and red stripes on the ass of Lord Hassan's slave kneeling at his feet but only briefly as the next flash of pain soon arrives. The punishment continues without a break and I lose count of the number of times Abdul strikes me with that vicious cane but somehow, I don't know how, I manage not to cry out. When he stops I am just grateful that it is over and I just hang there gasping for air, the sweat pouring from my body.

Farook and his guest are deep in conversation as their respective slave boys hold glasses topped with liquid refreshment within their grasp. I notice the discipline of their postures as they kneel exactly alike, their knees spread wide, very wide, their arms perfectly straight, raised above their bowed heads. When one of the men takes hold of his glass to drink the slave's hands remain exactly in position ready to receive the glass once more. They are motionless and I am beginning to understand what training they must have received to demonstrate this perfection in servitude to their masters. The fear on the face of man's slave was clear to see. The men's conversation suddenly ceases and Farook speaks directly to me.

'Those twenty strokes were punishment for your being too slow to adopt the inspection posture in front of my guest. You will now be punished for being too slow to obey his command when ordered to suck his cock. Please proceed Abdul'.

I thought the punishment was over but now I realise it is just the start of something far worse. I have no time to recover from the throbbing pain in my buttocks before the cane strikes again. I don't think I can bare this anymore but I am hit again and again and again.

The cane strikes me relentlessly. First comes the sting of its contact with my flesh and then, within a microsecond, the searing flash as the pain registers in my brain. My whole body convulses in violent reaction to the pain but the ropes hold me firm suspended as I am just above the floor. I can no longer count how many times I have been hit; the blows just merge into one long agony of fire. The only thing I am concentrating on is keeping my mouth tightly shut. Tears fill my eyes but I can just make out the figures of Farook and the other man. They are talking, laughing, whilst I suffer strike after strike of the cane on my tortured buttocks. I think I am losing consciousness but then suddenly realise that my buttocks no longer feel the cruel cut of the Abdul's cane. But the pain remains, relentless, excruciating, burning and throbbing. The two men pause their conversation.

'You have five minutes to recover slave' said Farook. 'But it seems that earlier you had not yet learned your first lesson of slavery. It is that only instant obedience to a Master's command is acceptable. Therefore what now will follow is a lesson in obedience. After which you will demonstrate that new found obedience to my friend here. Understand slave'?

'Yes master' I reply in between catching my breath and my sobs.

Despite the pain that racks my brain I answer immediately and I see that Abdul is now holding a short multi-stranded whip in his hand. Instantly he slashes the whip across my chest catching my up-stretched arms and I cry out in agony. The Lord Hassan turns to Farook.

'I see the slave has still not yet learnt to obey an instruction' he says with a smile.

'It soon will my Lord' replies Farook.

I know I should not have cried out but the sting of the leather catches me off guard. I am determined not to repeat the mistake. Abdul swings the whip and strikes me again in exactly the same place but this time I am ready and grit my teeth hard. The whip's strands of leather sting as they lacerate my skin but the pain is over in a second unlike the deep seated throbbing that now spreads throughout my buttocks. The Lord Hassan and Farook break into laughter as the next blow lands across my chest just inches below the last.

'The whip is such an effective teacher don't you agree Farook' He remarks.

'Certainly My Lord, I expect a considerable improvement by the time Abdul has finished. When the slave is released please feel free to test it'.

Abdul applies his whip stroke after stroke, gradually working his way down the front of my body until he reaches my knees. For once I am glad that my cock is imprisoned in its steel cage, giving some protection to my balls but nothing is spared. Then, walking round behind me, he starts on my back. There is no relief as I feel the strands of leather high up on my shoulders. The ends of the whip sting my underarms and quickly I catch my breath forcing my teeth together. Now my two tormentors have an uninterrupted view of my suffering. They are clearly enjoying it, smiling and joking as, with blow after blow, the strands of the whip curl around my body. I know the torment will end sometime and I must not give them any excuse to prolong it. I know I am getting a punishment for my unacceptable behaviour. I know now that I must accept that I am just a slave and must serve these men in any way they demand.

Eventually the whipping stops and I hang limp, the sweat pouring from my body which remains tightly stretched by the ropes securing me to floor and ceiling. I hope that at last it is over but then I hear Farook's voice.

'Ten more please Abdul. The slave disobeyed my order to remain silent'

I now realise that with these men there is no room for compromise. My obedience as their slave must be instant and absolute. Abdul continues his onslaught with the whip, applying first five strokes to my chest and belly and then five more to my back. I pray to god that this torment is finally over not that I am in any way religious and I know that, whatever these men demand, I must instantly obey.

Farook now addresses me, his impatience clearly evident in his tone.

'I hope you now realise that you are now nothing but a slave and slaves obey their masters. You will now demonstrate your obedience to me and to my valued guest. I expect instant and absolute obedience, is that clear SLAVE'?

'Yes Master'. My response is immediate.

'Good' continues Farook. 'When released you will kneel, bow head to floor and crawl to My Lord Hassan, Bow to him and kneel nose to floor' You will obey any instruction he gives you, clear SLAVE'.

'Yes Master. I reply.

Abdul lowers the ropes attached to my wrists and my feet touch the floor again. He then unties the rope from my ankles and wrists. My muscles ache from the strain of the past thirty minutes or so and I almost collapse to the floor. But as quickly as I can I kneel, spread my knees, and bow my head to the floor. Then keeping my nose on the floor I crawl to Lord Hassan, bow as instructed and place my nose to the floor at his feet. I do not forget to spread my thighs as wide as I can with my ass raised in the air. I have learnt that it is the position of slave submission. My whole body feels on fire from the whipping I have just endured and I am trembling. These men have just proved that they can do whatever they wish to me, and they can order me to do whatever they demand. I must obey instantly without the slightest hesitation.

The man who is Farook's guest, Lord Hassan, orders me to kneel up and in a split second I am keeling, knees spread wide, arms locked tightly behind my back. I see he is smiling as he turns to Farook beside him. He speaks a word in Arabic and the slave at his side hands the glass he is holding to his master. Then another few words and the slave places his nose to the floor. A short pause and he clicks his fingers. Now the slave moves like lightening to kneel before Farook, bow, crawl forwards and take Farook's cock immediately into his mouth. Lord Hassan addresses me.

You see, slave boy, how my slave reacts instantly to the click of my fingers. It has learnt that I expect nothing less and of course it responds to commands whether in English or Arabic. That is what is required. You are expected to respond in the same way so now we will see what you have learnt, Suck my cock slave'.

Before I know it I am kneeling with my nose to the floor. I know I must wait for the click of his fingers but I am almost impatient to begin what, a few hours earlier, I would have found so revolting. I force my thighs painfully apart whilst keeping my ass raised. The position is a painful one and I actually hope that he clicks his fingers soon. But I know he is testing me and I must be ready. I know I am thinking like a slave now though I can hardly believe it. Then I hear his fingers.

I move instantly and in a second my lips are closing around the thick plum head of Lord Hassan's cock, my tongue lapping up the pre-cum oozing from the tip. Lord Hassan settles back in his chair, a sigh of contentment issuing from his lips as I flick my tongue across the underside of his cock head.

'Mmmm' He says 'there is nothing quite like the pleasure of a well trained slave boy sucking your cock. Do you not agree Farook.?

'Certainly My Lord; replies Farook. 'let us relax and enjoy the delights these infidel dogs provide'.

I try to remember what Abdul said in the training room the day before. I know I must provide slow continuous pleasure by keeping my lips and tongue moving but not too quickly so as to bring the master to climax before he wishes. It was made perfectly clear to us in training that, if the master climaxes before he desires, then we will be punished. Slowly I take more and more of the man's cock into my mouth, licking and sucking all the while and begin to move my head slowly backwards and forwards. I must not allow his cock to escape from my lips but at the same time I must pay attention to the cock head, which brings the most pleasure, with my tongue. A few short weeks ago I could never have imagined I would ever be doing this and here I am having been whipped into submission now performing the most intimate act of servitude of a sex slave. But that is what I am. I must accept the reality that I am in the hands of ruthless slave traders and have no means of escape. I will be forced to comply with whatever they demand and am now being appraised by a rich Arab with the possibility of being sold to him as a slave. Whether I become one of his slaves is immaterial. I know that I will be sold as a sex slave at auction to a master within the next few weeks. I will be displayed naked in front of a crowd of men, rich enough to own and purchase men as their slaves for their pleasure and perverted desires.

Lord Hassan and Farook are clearly enjoying the sexual pleasure provided by us slave boys kneeling between their thighs. And yes, I now accept reluctantly that I am a slave boy, forced to provide this pleasure for a future master. They laugh and joke, mostly in English, to humiliate us further, discussing the delightful sensations we are providing and how long they will require us to worship their cocks. I am afraid that I will fail to provide the erotic sexual pleasures required and will be further punished and feel the whip again so I continue to eagerly suck and lick despite my revulsion.

Eventually I hear The Lord Hassan's instruction.

'Now slave boy, when I click my fingers you will bring me to climax. You will not allow my precious cum to escape your lips and you will continue to lick and suck until I click my fingers again'.

Now I redouble my efforts. I must make this master cum as quickly as I can. Already I sense his excitement increasing confirmed with a long low moan of contentment. Before long I feel his cock pumping and his cum squirting to the back of my mouth. I close my lips tightly and swallow as the spasms keep coming and coming. It seems to go on forever and I keep sucking not daring to let a drop of his cum escape my lips. Then gradually the spasms of his cock subside but I remember to keep sucking and sucking. Eventually he clicks his fingers again.

'Make sure my cock is perfectly clean, then kneel slave boy, bow and then lick my feet' he commands.

Quickly I comply, hoping that my efforts and obedience to his will has pleased him. Glancing to my right I see that Lord Hassan's slave is licking Farook's feet. He was not ordered to do so and it crosses my mind that this must be normal routine behaviour demanded of a slave after sucking his master's cock. For endless minutes I continue to lick Lord Hassan's feet desperately hoping he is satisfied with my demonstration of servitude. Then eventually he kicks me to the floor.

'Prostrate yourself slave' he says, 'arms and legs spread wide'.

'I see some considerable improvement in the slave's performance Farook and I expect it to be up to your usual standard when I see it on the auction block in a few weeks time' he commented.

'Thank you My Lord, I can guarantee that it will' replies Farook.

'Might I suggest that it is placed in painful restraint for at least 6 hours later today so that it realises that this improvement must continue' Lord Hassan adds.

My heart sinks even deeper when I hear Farook's reply

Lord Hassan's slave resumes his position beside his master, raises his arms to take the now empty glass and bows his head. The men's conversation continues in Arabic for some time before, suddenly, they stand and order their slaves to dress them. They leave the room and I remain spread-eagled with only Abdul standing by my side, the strands of his whip flicking gently across my ass.


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