A generous family man goes on a shopping spree when the local slave emporium has a major sale and a strict disciplinarian step-father punishes his stepson and enjoys it too much in the hot conclusion of Amalaric's "No Limitation on Use" series.

No Limitation on Use - Conclusion
by Amalaric
Series: No Limitation on Use


Bringing Home the Bacon

The white van pulled up in front of the spacious suburban home in the early afternoon loaded with the fruits of retail therapy. It would have been impossible to miss the advertising blitz, as the local slave emporium trumpeted its wares in full page newspaper spreads and prime time TV. Over the weekend, prices on young males had been slashed by up to 50% and the emporium was literally mobbed by ogling customers in a spending mood.

Since his wife had passed away, Roger Corning had spent a lot of time with (and given a lot of money to) his only daughter Debbie and her husband Steve. In fact, the spacious house in the suburbs was as much the result of Roger’s gift as the combined wages of the happy young couple who lived there. And, so, Roger had driven to the weekend sale at the slave emporium and retuned with more gifts. Debbie and Steve each got their own male slave; delivered in the nude, padded with hard muscle, guaranteed breeders in their prime. Debbie’s had to be hog tied since he discovered that the sale had included a no limitation on use clause and was carrying on something fierce. That one would take some long and careful training. Roger shook his head- he knew his daughter and, yes, she could be spirited…but certainly wasn’t a monster. He wasn’t so sure about Steve… As for himself, Roger had splurged and purchased one of the discounted males as well. He licked his lips, gazing at the strapping young stud he had just purchased, and considered all of the things he had thought about doing over the years… There really wasn’t much actual work to be done at his small place, but that didn’t really matter. Thanks to the no limitation on use clause, his young slave had taken on a kind of versatility that was only limited by his master’s imagination.


The Stepson

He’d never really liked his stepdad but reckoned if the oily guy made his mom happy, well he would call him ‘dad’ and more or less get by. Deep down, Chris Matthews, sorely missed his real father- dead now for the last nine years- and desperately needed a male role model to somehow fill that gap in his life. His stepfather, Ed Brody, was fully aware of that and vowed not to let Chris down. For that reason, as well as a few others that he kept to himself, Ed was a strict disciplinarian and, no matter the infraction, Chris could rest assured that he would be held to account.

Chris had recently turned nineteen and was a freshman at the local college where, he freely admitted, he had only gained entry because of his passion for baseball. A natural athlete, Chris had actually obtained one of the coveted sports scholarships and played for the college team; multi-tasking as both pitcher and star hitter he had led his cheering team mates to glory on more than one occasion already. ‘Hi dad.’ Something furtive in his stepson’s usually open gaze alerted Ed Brody to the always longed for opportunity. Like a shark sensing just the merest tell tale trace of blood in the water, his body tensed with delicious anticipation even as his mind raced from one possibility to the next. Finally, zeroing in, not on possibility, but probability he casually remarked, ‘Report card’s due soon, Chris…how’s your grades this term?’ The crestfallen look of pure dismay told Ed everything he needed to know and, keeping a straight face, he inwardly leapt for joy. ‘Let’s have a look then.’ Chris fished in a pocket and withdrew the damning piece of paper, handing it to his stepfather. After a quick perusal, Ed put on his best mock frown and intoned, ‘Those grades are completely unacceptable, Chris. You have not only shamed yourself, but your mother and I as well…’ Desperately interrupting, his stepson stammered, ‘It’s just that I’ve been putting in so much time with the intramural stuff, dad…I swear I’ll get every low grade back to pass or better by the end of the year.’ ‘I have no reason to disbelieve you, Chris, and you have never been one to lie to me or to shirk your responsibility. But there are consequences in the here and now, you do understand that, right son?’ Chris let out a heartfelt sigh, shrugged his broad, athlete’s shoulders in a gesture of reluctant defeat and whispered, ‘Yes, sir…I guess so.’

They drove in uncomfortable silence for the better part of an hour; Brody at the wheel, his stepson staring contemplatively out the window in the back seat. Finally, approaching an abandoned industrial complex, Brody pulled over and switched off the ignition. Maintaining the solemn silence, they both stepped out of the car and, Brody guiding his stepson with a hand placed firmly on his shoulder, led him to the entrance of an underground passage. Stepping inside there was still plenty of light from the doorless entrance, but plenty of shadows as well and an oppressive sense of unassailable privacy. ‘You know what you’ve got to do, Chris- strip. Everything.’ The terse command had been issued many times before and Chris sullenly obeyed from long habit, burning with shame as he shed shirt, shoes and socks, jeans and shorts…until, finally, he stood naked before his stepdad, magnificent nineteen year old physique under minute inspection. Once he had dared question the terse order to remove all of his clothing and was rewarded with a stinging backhand across his face. Ed had informed him that when he reached the legal age of manhood, now two short years away, he would be treated like a man…but, for now, he would do as he was told. And he did. After a few moments of leisurely inspection, Chris was fitted with slick leather cuffs and strung up in a tight spread eagle. Near tears already, his handsome head was bowed in expectation of the fast and searing punishment that Ed had proved himself more than capable of dishing out. He wasn’t disappointed. For the next forty minutes the rhythmic tattoo of the strap, first slicing through the still air then landing with a satisfying snap against helpless muscle, filled the cavernous space. Chris’ low groans of distressed agony gradually increased in volume and tempo, interspersed with the occasional plea for mercy, stammered apologies for anything and everything, and breathless promises to improve himself in any way that his stepdad might see fit. After ten minutes his young nude body was bathed in sweat, which mixed with the heady aroma of masculine fear and the almost palpable sense of captive adrenaline. Ed took a short break at the half way point- both in order to let his stepson catch his breath, and to once again survey the fine sight of the young athlete’s magnificent body.

It was during this examination that Ed gleefully noted his stepson’s fine penis; thick, well-shaped, and of very considerable length, had stiffened ever so slightly during the first twenty minutes under the strap. Immediately taking advantage of the situation (he knew perfectly well that it was a completely involuntary reaction to the stress of being whipped), he grasped Chris’ cock and balls, which dangled freely between his spread legs, and remarked, ‘This might be part of your problem, boy; I suspect you need to be drained in order to calm you down a bit and, um, help you to stay focused.’ ‘Please dad! Don’t…it’s not right…’ Ed merely smiled and, wrapping his meaty palm around the warm shaft of his stepson’s captive cock delivered the first slow stroke from hairy root to the tingling rims of the reddening head. It took a while, but eventually Chris was brought to erection and, finally, coaxed- to his own shocked dismay- into delivering a strong ejaculation. His young body tensed and, shuddering, Chris thrust his narrow hips forward, spraying ribbons of pearly cum onto the floor of the passageway.

‘I’m sure that feels much better and I reckon we might need to repeat the procedure on a regular basis.’ Ed was all business and didn’t really expect a reply. For his part, Chris clenched his jaw in an attempt to stifle his sense of rage and burning shame. He was, however, unable to blink back all of the tears that stung his eyes, some of which now ran down his face to splash onto the floor and mix with the glistening trails of semen. Twenty minutes later Ed Brody cut him down, solicitously handed him back his clothing and waited patiently while Chris struggled to dress. Guiding his beaten stepson back to the family car, Ed delivered his closing lecture. ‘I know that you do your best to please your mom and myself, Chris, and we both appreciate that.’ Chris limped by Ed’s side in silence. ‘And I also know that young men your age just can’t help themselves sometimes and get up to all sorts of mischief…it’s just the way of things. That’s why I will always be there for you, son, with a firm hand and whatever else is needed…to do all that I can to help you in your efforts to navigate the straight and narrow. Is that understood?’ ‘Yes, sir,’ Chris nodded and got into the back seat of the car.



  1. terrapin16 - May 22, 2017, 6:18 pm

    Hey, thanks so much for reprinting these stories, appreciate reading them again. Missing, though, one of my favorites. It was similar in theme to “Stations of his Shame”. Young husband & father, unemployed “drain on society” selected by the bureaucracy and collected at home before being shipped off to the fields forever. Would love to see it again if possible. Thanks for your many awesome creations over the years.

  2. Amalaric - May 24, 2017, 3:12 am

    Hi- I’ve combed my files looking for the story and can only find one that seems to fit. Was the title of the story ‘Reduction’? If so, I will send it to the webmaster and re-post it here.

  3. terrapin16 - May 24, 2017, 5:39 pm

    Hmmm. Might have been. The only other details I can recall are that when they came to collect him, he was given a few minutes to say his goodbyes to his kids. His wife was untroubled, as she would be receiving a large financial aid package and probably be able to upgrade to a higher quality husband as well. Husband was destined to work as a field hand, following his non- punitive welcome flogging at the depot. Thanks again, Amal.

  4. Amalaric - May 24, 2017, 10:09 pm

    That’s the very one- It s called ‘Reduction’ and I have sent it in to the webmaster for posting…

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