GayBondageFiction

A short but sweet story about a dominant cash master and his slave by Alan Baker Charlie.

My Sick Relationship
by Alan Baker Charlie
Story inspired by DomGymMaster. Check out his video at the bottom of the […]

A ginger slave begins his training with a strict new SIR in this series from new author boy erik. Art by Amalaric.

Bootblack Chronicles: Parts 1 & 2
by boy erik
Art by Amalaric
Series: Bootblack Chronicles

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR: boy erik lives in Denver Colorado, and is the Colorado Bootblack Title Holder for 2013; He has won the Leather Brotherhood award for both 2012 & 2013. He won the International Brotherhood award at IML in 2014. His Sir was killed in the line of duty, was a Police Officer for a major Police Dept in the USA. He is currently un-collared and hopes to find a SIR to re collar him some day. The stories presented here are a collection of events which happened to him while collared to his SIR.

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PART 1

This morning started as any other morning for the boy although something was different. For one thing, he had a leather hood on. He could see out and his mouth was uncovered. The boy realized, he had an arm over him, turning it came back to him. This was his new SIR, he remembered being collared the night before. Ah yes, last night was awesome. He arrived promptly at 19:00 keeping his never late track record intact. In his hands he had the Patrol boots his soon to be SIR gave him. The boy was a Bootblack, when his SIR found out, he gave him his boots as a test to see how good he really was.

The night before was spent polishing, and fretting over how the boots would pass final inspection. Each boot was carefully polished and placed in a plastic bag which was sealed to prevent anything from happening to the boot. This evening would be to pass all his “tests” and become a boy to a very handsome SWAT Police Officer. This man stood about 5’11” had about a 32” waist nice muscular arms and blond hair. On their initial meeting at 01:00 in the morning the boy could recall how cold it was that night as he sat in this man’s Thunderbird with the engine running for heat. They talked for about an hour, before the boy left to go home, he was given specific orders and the boots to take care of for Thursday night’s dinner.

Upon entering the home, the boy was ordered to place the boots near the sofa, strip and kneel with his head bowed down to the floor. He complied with the orders given and for what seems like forever, waited. Sir S as he was to refer to his SIR at that time inspected the boots taking his time to look over each boot properly. Then his voice (that sweet manly voice) told the boy to look up. Instantly the boy got hard at the sight in front of him. There was SIR S in his uniform with the boots on. Tears started to form in the boys eyes. “What’s wrong boy?”

“SIR nothing SIR, your just an awesome sight to see.”

“You may stand and place your hands behind your head.”

SIR S started to inspect the boy. “Nice dick boy, although not as big and thick as mine, very nice for a boy. I see you haven’t been mounted in a while, ass is tight. I am sure I can fix that for you boy. Balls need some weights, and that red bush of yours will have to go. Let’s have dinner, everything is in the kitchen. Tonight we are having take out.”

Dinner was served and being a well-trained old guard boy, the boy waited for his SIR to start eating before he started. Boy had always known that he was meant for this life, he loved discipline and order. Without it, he was a mess. Things did not make sense to this boy without structure, discipline and order. The two talked through out the dinner hour, getting to know one and other better. When dinner was done, he cleared the table, cleaned up and went down to the basement. After everything was done, the boy used the bathroom to clean up, take a fresh piss and went down to the basement. It was odd, the basement was lit with backlight’s, the boy could make out a homemade St. Andrews cross, what looked like a massage table with eye bolts on the sides of it and some toys hanging from a wall on the opposite side of the room.

“Here are some ground rules boy. You’re given a 60 day trial period. During that time, you will live with me. You will be trained as I want you to be, dress how you’re told and do as you’re told. Is that understood?”

“SIR yes SIR!”

“Good, now on the table!!” The next thing the boy knew he was blindfolded. He could feel rope being used to secure him to the table. There was a spreader bar placed between his feet and locked on. His hands were secured above his head.

When his SIR was done he said, “Ain’t that a beautiful sight! Here is what will happen to you this evening, boy. You are going to have your crotch shaved and have a cock cage installed on you. The shaving will take place every 2 weeks at 22:00 sharp unless there is something that prevents us for doing this. I am going to install ½ lbs. balls weights which you will wear from now on. Eventually, I will increase the weight to a full pound. You are being developed into both my boy and my bitch. Once the 60 days are up, you will be given a choice. The choice is permanent is that understood?”

“SIR yes SIR!”

“Do you want out of this now?”

“SIR no SIR!”

“Good! Let’s begin. OPEN YOUR MOUTH!”

The next thing the boy felt was a cock gag going in his mouth. Once the strap was around his neck, he heard a click of a lock. “I want you quiet while I work.” SIR S began the process of shaving his soon to be permanent boy’s crotch. Slowly, the red bush was gone. After a rinsing, skin lotion was applied to and the excess dried off. The cock cage was put on the boys cock and again the sound of a lock clicking in place was heard.

“Now that you’re caged, here is the rule for the cage. It will only come off you when you shower or I want you to cum. You are no longer permitted to jack yourself off. I am the only one that can do that for you. Understood?”

A muffled “SIR YES SIR!” came out of the boy’s mouth.

“What’s that boy? Speak up?” Laughing…

The boy was released from the table and shown around the basement. On one side of the basement in a darken area was a large cage.

“That will be a second home to you. I will decide when you go in that cage boy. For now, let’s go to bed. Hope you enjoy hoods? No matter if you don’t.”

The boy found himself being hooded with what would become his sleeping hood. There were so many thoughts going through the boys head as he fell asleep.

PART 2

It couldn’t have been 04:30 that quickly? “Boy up now!!!” The groggy boy managed an empty “SIR yes SIR.”

“Well, now that you’re up boy, you have some morning chores that you need to be acquainted with. From today on, you will wake up at 04:30; you will take my fresh piss and drain my seed, unless I decide to mount you. Once you are done, you will kiss my sac to show your gratitude and wait for my further instructions. I will most likely have you prepare my breakfast while I shower and wait for me; you eat only after I eat….UNDERSTOOD?”

“SIR YES SIR!”

“Then when I am done, I will feed you and you may shower before getting dressed for work. You will taste the kiss of the rubber paddle on that table. 10 lashes daily, no matter what. Get to work boy, I need to piss.”

The boy took his Sirs yellow hot stinging stream down his throat. It was only after his Sir’s bladder was empty that his SIR heard the reassuring “BURP”.

“Good, I see you enjoyed that.”

“SIR YES SIR!”

“Now, my balls boy. Drain them. OH! One other thing, fail to cause me to shoot off a load on any given morning, and your daily paddle session for that day is increased to 30 plus the original 10.”

The boy eagerly started on his Sir’s 9” sausage.

“Sir must be enjoying it” he said to himself. He could hear the moans of enjoyment, his SIR’S hand on the boys still hooded head.

“WOW! You know what you’re doing, boy. Such a hot mouth! I am going to be proud to weld that collar on your neck once you’re mine permanently.”

No sooner than he said that, he heard his SIR spasming. Out came the thickest load the boy had ever taken. HOT, THICK and SATISFYING.

“GOOD JOB! Go make me breakfast.”

“SIR yes SIR. SIR permission to ask a question SIR?”

“What boy? SIR permission to be taken out of my hood now, it will make it easier to see SIR.”

“Yes boy, come here.” The lock was undone and the laces loosened and out popped the ginger headed boy with a smile on his face. “GO!”

“SIR YES SIR!”

The boy made his favorite breakfast for his new SIR. Stuffed pancakes with strawberries on top. Into each pancake, the boy put some peanut butter and chocolate chips. Let them cook into the pancake and then a flip to finish off the other side. On the side were two nicely cook sausage links and Sir’s usual coffee. The plate was set in front of his SIR as he was sitting down.

“boy you may sit here from now on.”

“SIR thank you SIR” The boy took his place watching for his Sir’s reaction to the breakfast he just made.

“WOW boy, these are great. They have both chocolate and peanut butter in them with Strawberries on top. Nice combo boy. You’re well on your way to earning your collar boy.”

“SIR thank you SIR.”

“Ok clear off the table and go shower. Your breakfast will be ready in 5 minutes.”

The boy quickly showered making sure he was all clean, got dressed in the clothes SIR laid out for him and came to the breakfast table.

“UM, boy, no. Until I can trust you and you complete your training, you will be eating here.”

SIR pointed over to the wall near the dishwasher. There were two bowls on a raised platform. One had oatmeal that was still warm and the other had some orange juice in it. The boy knelt down and had his breakfast.

“GOOD BOY! Clean up the breakfast dishes and get your teeth brushed. We are going someplace special today.”

“SIR permission to ask where SIR?”

“You’ll see. You’re the star attraction this morning at 10:30. I will meet you in the car when you’re done.”

“SIR yes SIR!” The breakfast dishes were done and put away, the boy could hear SIR on the phone talking to someone about an appointment and confirming everything needed before “we” arrive. As the boy was brushing his teeth, he heard “OK see you shortly. BOY! You ready” ….spit…”SIR yes SIR just finished SIR.”

“Good, let’s go.”

CONTINUE THE STORY:PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

It’s been awhile since we’ve had a new story from Richard but I’m pleased to announce that he’s back with a HOT story with something for everyone. Arrogant divorce attorney and all around stud Chase Forbes suffers […]

It’s been awhile since we’ve had a new story from Richard but I’m pleased to announce that he’s back with a HOT story with something for everyone. Arrogant divorce attorney and all around stud Chase Forbes suffers […]

Art by Androscoped. Check out his TUMBLR PAGE!

I would like to wish all of our authors, artists, members and visitors a Merry Christmas and a prosperous 2017.

May all your nuts be roasted and all your […]

A rather combative patient makes a trip to the emergency room after taking too much viagra and endures a humiliating experience in front of a group of doctors and nurses who strap him into an examination chair and […]

A fun new CMNM story from Luther5 with some hot manips by Amalaric! In the story, an intern at a porn production company gets his dream assignment – auditioning a group of aspiring straight male actors. He devises […]

The naked men are paraded around the office then required to put on a show for a large eager audience of their peers.

Male Actor Auditions: Full Nudity Required – Page 2
by Luther5
Art by Amalaric
View […]

The intern singles out one potential actor for a private audition and soon has him under his control.

Male Actor Auditions: Full Nudity Required – Page 3
by Luther5
Art by Amalaric
View this page with a […]

Jonathan relays the story of his first whipping from his sadistic older brother Steve then another young ranchhand’s virgin skin is kissed by Steve’s whip.

Taking the Whip – Part 8
by Whiplash235
Series: <a href="https://gaybondagefiction.com/tag/series-taking-the-whip/&quot; title="Taking the Whip […]

An unsuspecting young man learns the punishment for trespassing on Steve’s farm.

Taking the Whip – Part 9
by Whiplash235
Series: Taking the Whip
Art by Neil Bruce at Bearoticart.com

One afternoon a few days later while we were all eating and relaxing after a typical hard day’s work, Steve walked into the dining room. Immediately, the atmosphere grew tense, because of the ragged youth trailing behind him. The lad was about my age, as far as I could tell. He was a Zulu boy, lightly skinned with close cropped hair, and the way Steve strode along there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that a whipping was about to take place. Nhlanhla was following behind the youth, and while he wasn’t actually doing anything like prodding him along, it was clear that he was propelling him forward. I thought of something that Jonathan had told me:

“Steve really enjoys whipping people now. I don’t know if that’s my fault, because I seemed to enjoy the beatings he gave me, or if it’s just something in him. I realized that he looked forward to administering punishments when he caught a trespasser one day. We were all chowing one afternoon, and Steve brought a young guy into the dining room. The young guy’s hands were tied in front of him and my brother was pulling him along by the rope that was left over after tying his hands. Steve never said a word; he just dragged the poor youth along, and when he reached a suitable spot, he threw the extra rope over a beam in the ceiling and fastened it so that the lad’s arms were stretched tightly above his head.

“We watched transfixed as Steve took off his own shirt; there was of course the whip he had coiled and fixed to the belt of his trousers. Most of us had stopped eating, and I know my mouth was wide open while he ripped the shirt off the hapless youth, who was half-heartedly struggling as Steve stripped him until he was completely bare from the waist up. I think that he knew what was about to happen, though he might not have believed it was actually happening. He hung there helplessly, his hands stretched straight above him, his bare feet barely touching the ground – a good looking youth with a muscular brown body. He looked straight ahead without catching anyone’s eye.

“Then Steve spoke. ‘This guy has been sleeping in our fields,’ he said. ‘He’s going to be punished for that, and if he wants to stay with us after his punishment, that’s up to him.’
“It was a heavy beating my brother administered that day, at least fifteen lashes, though I must admit that I lost count after the first ten. The lad hardly murmured until the eighth or the ninth stroke, and then he started to cry out as the whip continued cutting across his bare back. He started struggling vainly, trying to pull at the rope that held him tightly, and I saw the terror in his eyes as he looked behind after each cruel blow to see Steve drawing his arm back and measuring where the lash was going to strike next. For the last few strokes he kept saying, ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again…’ but Steve wasn’t satisfied until his victim was well and truly whipped.”

I remembered all this as I watched the trio stop for a moment, and then Steve called me over.
“Go with Nhlanhla,” he said to me with a grin. “This newcomer needs a lesson about trespassing. Take him into the barn and sort him out.” It was impossible to say no, but the worst thing was that I didn’t want to refuse.

Nhlanhla and I said nothing to each other as we each took an arm and led the young lad out of the dining room and into the yard. As we approached the barn the youth started to babble nervously.

“Hey, I didn’t know I was trespassing…what did he mean? ‘Sort me out’…just let me go, guys; I’ll run so fast no one will catch me and you’ll never see me again…”

Nhlanhla and I kept our silence and held him more tightly. My arm was pushed against the side of his body and I could feel his heart beating rapidly through his ribs. He was thin and wiry, but quite muscular for all that, and I could not ignore the fact that I was looking forward to stripping him. I imagined a smooth brown body, probably quite similar to Jabulani; I felt a horribly familiar stirring in my groin at the thought of ripping the shirt off his body and watching him squirm helplessly when he realized that he was going to feel the cruel caress of the whip. At the same time I was shocked that I could be thinking and feeling such things. It was only a few weeks previously that I had been dragged into the same barn, stripped to the waist and spread-eagled out for my first taste of Steve’s lash. Had I changed so much that I was now excited to inflict the same experience on someone else? What if this youth responded exactly the same as I had?

The youth was still babbling when we got inside the barn, but Nhlanhla silenced him with a simple question:

“What’s your name?” he asked in a kindly voice.

“Thobani,” was the stuttered reply.

“Well, look, Thobani…we’re not going to kill you, so calm down. The boss has told us to punish you a bit, and then you can go or stay, according to whatever you want.”

I felt Thobani shuddering; he tried to take in what Nhlanhla was saying. “Punish me…?”

Nhlanhla was almost cheerful as we propelled the lad to the wooden beam with the metal rings. “We have to punish you, since you’ve done something wrong, and when it’s over, you’ve paid your dues, and you can even stay on, if you like.”

Unfortunately for Thobani, he was concentrating too much on Nhlanhla, and he didn’t realize that I let him go for a moment so that I could pick up a piece of rope from the table, and by the time I was tying his left wrist to one of the metal rings, it was too late. Once I had him secure, Nhlanhla drew his right wrist to the other metal ring and I handed him another piece of rope. I watched a resigned look pass across Thobani’s face when he saw that he was well and truly caught, and then a different look as Nhlanhla took off his shirt, revealing the dark lean muscular body that I knew so well.

After a moment, he said, “You’re going to use a whip on me, aren’t you?”

Nhlanhla smiled in response and nodded to me that I should strip as well. I took off my shirt quite slowly, enjoying the way Thobani gazed at me while I divested. His eyes widened at the obvious weals across my chest and stomach; in case there was any doubt, I deliberately turned to put my shirt on the table so that he could see the numerous stripes across my back.

“I think you know what we are going to do to you. Now, we need to tie your ankles to those pegs in the floor,” said Nhlanhla, “and you’re not going to do anything silly like try to kick us or anything, are you?”

When I turned back, I could see Thobani shaking his head mutely. He may have been promising not to struggle, but from the look on his face he was probably trying to get to grips in his mind with what he could see was about to happen. Had I looked as confused and bemused when on the day that they had pulled the shirt off me and fastened my wrists and ankles to the restraints?
“Just as well,” continued Nhlanhla, “because right now, you’re on ten lashes, but any silly attempts to put up a fight would double that to twenty. Ten is…quite tough but twenty on your first go is something you’d rather not experience. Isn’t that right?”

This last comment was to me, and I grinned, a little stupidly, I think. I said nothing because I was in a hurry to finish restraining this youth and get to the part where we stripped him. This was so much a repeat of my own first experience and the excitement in me was mounting rapidly. I took another two pieces of rope from the table, passed one to Nhlanhla, and we both bent down to tie his bare feet to the pegs in the floor. When I stood back up, I was definitely ready to strip our young victim of every stitch of clothing until he was completely naked and utterly at our mercy, but Nhlanhla wanted to spin the moment out a bit longer. I was still a little appalled at my reactions – what was this place turning me into? I wondered if Steve somehow knew that I would feel like this…

“You’re right of course, but how do you know we’re going to use a whip?”

Thobani said nothing for a moment. Nhlanhla went up to him. He gripped the lad’s shirt at the neck and ripped it open all the way down to the waist of his trousers in one fierce movement. “I asked you a question,” he said roughly, “and I can promise you that any lack of cooperation will certainly earn you extra lashes.”

I watched as Thobani took a couple of deep breaths, clearly surprised at the sudden ferocity. His bare chest and stomach was pretty much as I had imagined: smooth and lithe, not especially muscular but rugged in a wiry sort of way, quite like Jabulani. I was also impressed at Nhlanhla. I couldn’t decide if he was playing a part or allowing his violent side a bit of fun; this was the same person who played with me enthusiastically if we were both naked together – and wielded a whip with no sign of mercy if that was what Steve commanded him to do.

Thobani tried to reply between breaths: “I saw you and some other guy – not this one, I think – whipping someone who was tied up at that funny gate of yours. It was about two or three weeks back and I was hiding in the trees at the time. He was stripped to the waist, the one you were whipping, and I could hear the crack of the whip across his back. Then that guy you call your boss ripped his trousers off, and you carried on whipping him for a bit longer.

“At first I thought it was a terrible punishment, and I ran away as soon as I could, but I couldn’t get it out of my head…I mean, the three of you, shirtless or just wearing shorts…you looked so good, even from far away…and the guy who was being whipped…he seemed sort of…fearful but excited…

Thobani trailed off, and I saw him testing the way his wrists were tied to the metal rings. Nhlanhla’s face was impassive, giving nothing away, but I was in turmoil. Did I hear this kid right? Was he saying that Jabulani’s whipping – he had to be talking about that afternoon – had such an effect on him that he was drawn back to the same farm where he had inadvertently witnessed the ‘terrible punishment’?

Nhlanhla nodded to me. “Your turn now,” he said, “strip him – just his shirt for the time being.”

The young lad stretched and steadied himself, preparing for – what he was asking for? I stepped up to him, pulled his shirt out of his trousers and pushed it over his shoulders so that his chest and stomach were completely exposed, deliberately stroking his smooth torso as I did so. He was still taking deep breaths and I might have detected a sigh as I laid him bare at the front. Then I went behind him and moved his shirt up his back, playfully stroking his brown body as I drew it up to his neck and then over his head. I felt him shudder repeatedly when I caressed his sides and ran my hands up and down his back. His shirt was hanging over his head like a hood, and when I glanced at Nhlanhla he grinned, indicating that I should leave it like that; I tightened it here and there for good measure; by the time I had finished, he was bare from the waist up, skin exposed for the lash, and his head was hooded so that he could not see whatever we were going to do to him. His blindness made him struggle against the restraints.

“I want to see what you are going to do to me.” His plea was muffled by the fabric over his head.

Nhlanhla meanwhile was coming back from rummaging in a cupboard, carrying two very familiar whips. I felt a horrible thrill of anticipation; it was obvious that Nhlanhla intended that I should participate fully in this punishment, and as I glanced at Thobani, who was starting to pull at the ropes that restrained him, the thought of refusing just didn’t enter my mind. Instead, my member was thickening as I imagined taking the whip and standing behind this helpless victim.

Thobani was jerking his head this way and that, trying to work out where we were, and pleading. “Look, you’ve got me,” he said, “there’s nothing I can do, so I’ll have to take it as best I can, but please, uncover my head…I want to see what you’re doing.”

Nhlanhla was smiling wickedly. “Oh, don’t worry about that,” he said, “I’ll tell you exactly what we are doing and you’ll feel it just now, anyway. We have two whips here. Each of them has a wooden handle and a nice thick leather thong of about two meters, tapering off to a point at the end. These whips are specially designed to cut skin and we are going to administer fifteen lashes – you were too slow answering my question. I’m going to work on the front of your body and I’ll deliver seven strokes, while Jonathan’s friend gives your back some good instruction.

“The first couple might be a bit of a shock, so it’s OK if you cry out at first – some people have even been known to piss themselves. But you’d better take your punishment like a man: it’s tough, I know; I mean, these whips are going to cut you repeatedly, and no matter how much you twist and writhe, there’s no escape from the lash. All the same, too much crying and blubbering and you’ll get another ten or so…and by the way, farm rules say you have to be naked if you deserve an extra ten lashes.”

Thobani started to squirm and pull uselessly at the ropes that held him fast, and I heard him groan when Nhlanhla spoke about stripping him completely. My own reaction was appalling and exciting at the same time: the idea of whipping this virile youth into submission was producing reactions I wouldn’t have believed were I not experiencing them; my enthusiastic member was starting to push against my shorts and trousers, spurred on by the image of Thobani’s smooth brown body writhing, helplessly spread-eagled between the restraints while Nhlanhla and I applied the whip. I wanted to see his lithe form arching against the lash.

“Please, let me see what’s going on.”

I glanced at Nhlanhla, who nodded, so I went up to our victim. I enjoyed the way he started violently when I ran my hands up and down the sides of his bare body; I stroked his stomach with one hand, and I undid the shirt that I had wrapped around his head. It took a few moments to tear his shirt away, and then I caressed his muscular stomach while he breathed more freely. I felt the sudden tension in his body as he surveyed the two whips coiled almost innocently on the table in front of him. Thobani was getting a good look at the whips that we were about to use and I could feel him trembling as he imagined them slashing across his bare torso. I slipped my hand down the front of his ragged trousers and two things were immediately clear: he was not wearing any shorts, and no matter what his body might be saying, his member was very erect and immediately responded strongly to my gentle caress.

“You’re excited about a whipping, aren’t you?” I whispered into his ear, using my other hand to pull his body against my chest. I was also excited, of course, and I was sure he could feel my own erection pushing against the seat of his trousers.

“I saw what you did to that other guy,” he said, between deep breaths that pushed him against me. “When you stripped him bare in front of the barn, his member was sticking out in front of him, and then your boss started whipping him. It was a cruel beating and I couldn’t believe that he stayed so erect despite the way the lash brought him to his knees…I don’t want to be naked,” he added quickly, “but I do want to see what it’s like getting a punishment like that.”

CONTINUE THE STORY:PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

Vote for your favorite stories from October & November. We are awarding prizes to the authors of the top 3 stories. You may vote for up to THREE different stories. Follow the link below the results to enjoy this […]

A group of Bad Boys suffer their due punishment. Starting with Doogie who is stripped naked front of his friends, father and neighbor and prepared for some brutal disciplinary action.

Bad Boy’s Get What […]

Doogie suffers through a harsh strapping and other more severe attitude-adjusters in front of a curious audience.

Bad Boy’s Get What They Deserve – Page 2
by Amalaric
Ary by Amalaric

The first whack […]

Jim Peterson & Stevie Riordan receive their due punishment from Officer Holzer.

Bad Boy’s Get What They Deserve – Page 3
by Amalaric
Ary by Amalaric

3. Postscript

Somewhere out there- at the beach, […]

An up-and-coming young athlete turned businessman learns that at EQR Enterprises the price of corporate espionage is public humiliation. Another hot forced nudity story from Luther5! Art by Amalaric. Page […]

An up-and-coming young athlete turned businessman learns that at EQR Enterprises the price of corporate espionage is public humiliation. Another hot forced nudity story from Luther5! Art by Amalaric. Page […]

Ajax is forced to work in the fields like a horse then learns there may be other “duties” expected of him.

Antebellum – Chapter 5: In the Fields
by Drum
Art by Amalaric
Series: Antebellum
Enjoy the story? Send Drum a private message! Or comment below.

The night overseer’s boy unlocked my collar chain and I was told to jump in the cold water bath with the others. We were divided into groups and I found myself with big Nero and Job. A boy of about 15 came up; he was called Toby and was to drive us today. One at a time he removed our collars and replaced them with padded collars like small horse collars. When they were locked on they could not be removed and they had various rings hanging from them. We tied loincloths on our naked bodies and received a talk from the overseer. ‘This is Toby, or Boss Toby to you niggers. He will drive you today. He is equipped with a whip and a cane and he knows how to use them if any of you get uppity. Also any problems he has will be reported to me and dealt with accordingly. Now get out and work hard.’ ‘Yes boss,’ we chorused. Toby rode a horse and we followed for just over a mile until we came to what had been a separate farm. There was a field which was lightly covered with weeds. The soil was dry and dusty. Toby said, ‘The Master wants this field ploughed over. The soil is light so he has ordered me to use you niggers instead of wasting a couple of horses.’

We found the plough and placed it in position. He lined us up in front of the plough and attached two straps to rings at the bottom front of our collars, threaded them between our arms and flanks and attached them to three rings on the plough. He told us to grip the straps and pull with both our shoulders and arms. He untied and removed our loincloths so we were naked and hung them over a fence post. He sat on the seat and called out, ‘Walk on, boys.’ We took up the strain and heaved the plough into motion. Despite the soil being dusty it was hard work and we were soon sweating. Every so often Toby cracked the whip above our heads but seemed to be careful not to actually hit us. We dragged on and each haul across the field resulted in two furrows. By late morning, about 10 o’clock, we had done about a third of the field. Coming from the direction of the mansion we saw the Master with his cousin Alex and nephew Georgie riding towards us.

‘Boss Toby, sah.’ Job said. ‘May we cover ourselves with our loincloths, please sah?’ His request mirrored my own wishes. ‘Quiet nigger!’ Toby snapped and accompanied his reply with a lash from the whip across Job’s back making him cry out. The Master whistled for us to be stopped at the end of the furrow. I saw them dismount and hitch their horses to the gate post. We were pulled up facing them. They stepped forward and Georgie said ‘Is that the slave you caned for spilling the food last night Uncle Thomas? His buttocks are looking well coloured.’ ‘Yes it is. And I hope it has taught him a lesson, now I see him stripped down I can see he needs harder work to get back into his earlier condition. He was quite a well-muscled buck at one time. Of course he was never quite as good as Nero or Ajax here.’

‘O sure, Uncle Thomas, Ajax was the slave who was helping to serve. I said he would look great stripped down and he does.’ The boy stepped to me and felt my upper arms. As I was chained I could not flex it, or even move it much. Not that I wanted to be felt over by a mere boy. ‘Toby, unharness Ajax and remove his collar.’ ‘Yes Mr. Richards, sir.’ Toby said as he freed me from the restraints. I stretched when they were removed.

‘Flex you arms, Ajax.’ ‘Yes, massa.’ I aid, pulling on my arms. Without a word the boy reached up and felt my expanded biceps and then my shoulder and chest. He examined my brand marks and said, ‘What do you know of his origins?’ ‘Pretty sure he is mostly Mandingo stock given his size and colouring. There’s human blood a few generations back. Guess his grand-dam’s master let a friend enjoy her charms. Happens all the time to a pretty wench in these parts.’ Georgie felt my upper thigh and then my calf muscles, ‘Sure as hell one big, strong slave, must be worth something.’ ‘Well I am not telling you what I paid for him here but it was worth the investment. He has many years of work and breeding ahead of him,’ the Master said, ‘Toby, put him back to the plough.’

The Master went back and looked over Job. He pinched a handful of less than firm flesh at the slave’s waist and said, ‘You really are getting out of condition, nigger.’ ‘Yes massa, sorry massa I’ll work harder, massa.’ They went on their way as the vittels wagon came up. We ate and finished the field that afternoon.

We were taken back to the barracoon. Nero and I were allowed a thorough wash and an early meal. While we were eating a racket came from the yard near Boss Raikes’ room. Job was struggling, still in his loincloth, as a steel collar was being locked on him. As a trusted slave he didn’t usually wear restraints like me. Then manacles and shackles were put on him and he was chained by the collar to the back of a wagon. ‘Take him to the quarry, Master’s orders, a term down there will get him back in shape.’ ‘Yes Mr. Raikes, the boy driver said, geeing the horses. Next Raikes sent for Nero and spoke to him for a few minutes. When he came back Nero said, ‘Massa wants us to serve him his dinner tonight, Herbert and Henry, his two houseboys will show us. After the meal the Massa may keep you behind for some special services.’ I was puzzled, ‘What kind of special services?’ Nero cleared his throat, looked around to make sure nobody could overhear and said, ‘Well, as you know, most masters like to take their pleasure with a bedwench or a pretty housemaid. Others prefer a handsome young slaveboy for their amusement. Master has shown an interest in you.’ ‘Shit, no! I can’t do that, Nero, it’s wrong. It’s against my nature.’ ‘Don’t think I don’t know what goes on between niggers in the barracoon when they ain’t been bred for a while, Ajax.’ ‘Yes, but that’s between niggers, not humans.’ You do what the Master says, boy. I saw a slave after he disobeyed once. Face beaten to a pulp, flogged and bruised and his jaw broken. He starved to death because he could not eat. Remember that nigger, even your life is too valuable to throw away like that.’ I contemplated the coming evening with mixed fears.

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Ajax begins to learn his new role on the plantation and quickly sees the disparity between master and slaves.

Antebellum – Chapter 4: In the House
by Drum
Art by Amalaric
Series: Antebellum
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I was taken to the general slave barracoon, a large stone and wooden barn fitted out with partitions for each slave. At one end of the building was a concrete-lined trough about six feet square and filled with water. I was ordered to bathe in it. It was cold but felt good to get the sweat and dust from my skin. I dried off with rags and went to the long table where about 20 other slaves sat and ate biscuit and stew. There was plenty and a negro on my right said, ‘They say it is made from instructions by Dr Sullivan. Full of stuff that builds muscle and keeps a slave healthy and strong.’ ‘Don’t taste too bad, either,’ I said. ‘My name’s Ajax, what’s yours?’ ‘Nero, massa named me Nero, don’t know why but he said it was because I am blacker than any other nigger here. I don’t understand how he came up with the name Nero.’

After the meal the slaves we all allowed a short period of recreation before being locked by their collars to the walls of their stalls. I was the exception and was taken to the basement of the house. I was in awe as I taken to a room where my shackles, manacles and collar were removed. The overseer said to a nigger aged about 30 in full black and white finery, ‘Job, you are to train up this nigger to serve at table. Show him how to dress, his finery is in the parcel.’ We unwrapped the clothes bought in New Orleans and I put on the shorts and socks. Job helped me with the shirt and pants and then showed me how to tie a cravat and lace shoes. It was very complicated and I wondered if I would ever learn to do it. The shoes felt very strange on my feet. I then put the coat on. ‘You just stand next to the buffet and watch me tonight, nigger. Maybe I’ll find something for you to do. Now follow me.’ ‘Yes Job,’ I answered. ‘Mr. Job” to you nigger, I am senior butler here.’ ‘Sorry, yes Mr. Job,’ I replied, barely concealing my contempt for the slave’s conceit.

We went up the backstairs to the dining room and went in. I had never been in a house before and this place looked fantastic with it rich furnishing and silver on the white table cloth. There were vases of flowers and a fire crackled in the hearth. We could here voices from the next room. ‘Massa has friends over for the weekend, his cousin Alex and his son George. They are from the north. You obey them and do as you are told same as if they were your massa.’ I was nervous as Job positioned me next to the buffet. Wenches brought in chafing dishes from the kitchen and placed them over spirit burners. Already at the three places on the table cold food was sitting on plates. Job went and opened the double door between the dining room and the salon, coughed quietly, bowed and said ‘Dinner is served, massa’. The Master and his family walked in. Job pulled back the Master’s chair for him and I did the same for the Master’s brother. Job served white wine to the guests and they ate their hors d’oevres with relish. Job cleared their plates and passed them through a hatch to the kitchen. Then he took the meat plate and served them slices of beef. Then roast potatoes. I was drooling at the smell of this fine food and wondered if we had a chance later to sample it. I handed Job a dish of peas and then he poured sauce onto the plates. We stood back and I could watch out of the corner of my eye.

Their conversation was largely about the price of tobacco and cotton, then it turned to slaves and the Master mentioned he had made a purchase the previous day and pointed to me. George, who was about 15 or 16, said, ‘Holy cow! Uncle Tom, he’s huge. Thick neck, trim waist and broad shoulders. Remember, you told me how to estimate a nigger even when he was fully clothed. I can’t wait to see him stripped down.’ The Master called for seconds and Job served them all again. I watched and saw how frightened Job was when he spilt some of the brown sauce on the white cloth‘You clumsy oaf, nigger! Ajax, fetch my crop from the hallstand.’ ‘Yes, massa.’ I said striding to the door. I found the crop and returned to the dining room where Job stood minus his coat. ‘You have to punish niggers directly they have offended, otherwise, not being too bright, they are likely to forget why they are being punished. Drop your pants and shorts and bend over the chair, Job.’ ‘Yes massa, sorry massa. Please massa, mercy,’ he pleaded. ‘Hold his shirt tails out of the way, Ajax.’ ‘Yes, massa.’ I lifted the cloth to bare Job’s buttocks and saw him tremble as the Master swung the crop across his naked backside with full force a dozen times. As each blow landed his body jolted. When the punishment was ended he was forced to stand in front of the guests with his pants round his ankles while the Master said, ‘Why did I beat your ass, nigger?’ ‘Because I was clumsy and spilt the sauce, massa.’ ‘I hope I will not have to do it again, nigger, because if I do I will have serious doubts about your position in the house and may have to send you out to the fields or the quarry to toughen you up. You getting too many pansy ways from some of the other house slaves.’ ‘Please massa, I am sorry, massa, please don’t send me to the quarry, massa.’ ‘You just watch yourself, slave, now what do you say after you have been punished?’ ‘Thank you, massa, I deserved to be beaten, massa.’ Job’s eyes were wet as he continued to work and we were, eventually, dismissed and told to change out of the finery and get back to the barracoon. As we went across to our quarters I said, ‘Sorry about the punishment, Job, you took it well though.’ He shoved me away and shook his head. I heard a single sob and saw his shoulders shake.

The barracoon was quiet except for the sighs, snores and heavy breathing of the slaves in the warm, fetid air. The night overseer locked my collar and manacles on and bedded me down. I slept deeply with sheer exhaustion and it seemed like no time had passed when the five o’clock bell sounded.

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An excerpt from Todd Fleming’s latest super hero story now available on Amazon.

Excerpt from “Puma and The Eagle”
by Todd Fleming
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Chapter 5

The Eagle sighed with […]