#gayfiction — Public Fediverse posts

Ben took his hands off you and moved on to Number 759, who was kneeling on the sun lounger next to you. You could hear the houseboy moaning as he shuffled back and forth on all fours. You remained obediently looking straight ahead. Your hips felt empty, filled only with anticipation. You already had the distinctive taste of Ben's manhood and his drops of arousal on your tongue. Your arse longed to be stretched by him. Your throat waited for his cum. Meanwhile, your guardian had moved on and ordered ward number 128 into the pool.

The gardener's boy obeyed without hesitation. His eyes downcast, he approached the edge of the pool and let himself slide elegantly into the water. Ben followed him; he had now undressed completely. The sight of his bare body made you tremble, for you longed so much to be taken by him. You envied Number 128, who now willingly let Ben push him under the water and immediately began to pleasure your guardian's cock with his mouth.

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The cooking boy sank down onto the bed with you, whilst you continued to give him a blowjob on his limp dick. Ben and he kissed passionately; you lay between them, busy with number 403, sucking his dick and licking the spot between his legs where his nuts had been removed. He didn't get very hard, but he seemed to be enjoying it. Your mouth no longer obeyed you; you carried on, further and further.

You felt Ben pulling your penis back between your legs. You got down on your stomach on the bed, still trying to keep pleasing Number 403. Before you knew it, you found yourself spreading your legs so that Ben could reach your crotch. Your guardian placed a ring around your balls, then locked your penis in a tight chastity cage, heavier and smaller than the one he'd used last time. The feeling of being controlled by him, of being at his whim, made your cock quickly go rock hard in its prison.

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"What do you think most people out there think would be the right response for me right now? To a ward showing a dangerous tendency toward violence, inciting my other boys?" asked Ben. He clearly wanted confirmation to discipline you. You braced yourself on your elbows and stuck your bare bottom out. Let him spank you! You'd take it like a grown man. Stavinsky answered his own question: "The appropriate thing would be to take you back to prison, where you belong. With a sign around your neck saying 'I love nothing more than sucking cock, but afterwards I secretly badmouth the men I begged to let me swallow their cum'. That would be fitting."

You knew he was trying to provoke you, but you couldn't control yourself. "No!" you blurted out, no longer submissive or humble. "I'm not begging, this device and you are making me do it against my will! I would never have agreed to the programme if I'd been told what it entailed."

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You tried to lift his spirits further, and with him being so calm and thoughtful, he was a good conversationalist. He told you that he hadn't just been hooking himself, but had also acted as a pimp for other boys. That he'd actually quite enjoyed working as a rentboy, but had increasingly been drawn into trickery and violent altercations. You tried to make it clear to him that what your guardian was doing here was coercive, but you also realised that Number 759 seemed to take pleasure in being Mr Stavinsky's toyboy and plaything. Perhaps he wasn't a good ally.

Your conversation was interrupted when kitchen boy 403 joined you. He looked exhausted but smiled contentedly. He paused behind Number 759 and massaged his neck, his limp dick rubbing back and forth against the back of Nr 759's head. Apparently, however, Number 759 still had no desire to engage.

"Our warden wants to see us," Number 403 prompted you to follow him.

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You served Master Stavinsky his breakfast, just as he requested. The kitchen boy seemed a little nervous and excited, until Benjamin allowed him to join him in bed. Your guardian savoured his breakfast whilst 403 pleasured him orally. Pensively, Master Stavinsky played with his ward's dick, caressing the spot where his testicles had been. Meanwhile, you were told to clear away and carry the crockery to the kitchen.

You had just loaded the dishwasher when you noticed that the houseboy had shuffled into the kitchen. He looked dejected, unmotivated, listless. The boy explained that his brain implant, which Mr Stavinsky usually activated for him in the mornings, appeared to be switched off. Today, everything seemed dreary and boring to him; not even this morning's training had satisfied him. You sat down together at the kitchen table for a moment, and you patted his arm without saying a word.

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You knew it should have felt shameful to lie in front of him, exposing your crotch with a chastity cage on, spreading your cheeks while loosening your ass with love balls. But you sensed how your brain implant was manipulating your emotions, and you knew you'd be powerless to resist. Ecstasy coursed through your body as the next bead slipped into your hole.

His knowing smile made you horny, and you greedily forced more beads into your asshole. It felt so incredibly satisfying as they stretched your hole slightly before sliding inside you to slowly increase their pressure. Your ass craved nothing more than yet more pearls, deeper, harder, thicker. You wanted to feel more of the pain it caused when another one pushed into your hole, stretching it open, ready to be penetrated. Precum was oozing from your cock cage.

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Exhausted, you remained in place, face down on the table while the plastic piece stretching your anus. It hurt, but you felt your body growing more and more pleasure. Number 128 left you lying there.  

He got on his back on a narrow bench on the other side of the room. From a hook on the wall, he took a long chain made of thick, black rubber balls. After spreading some lubricant on it, he slowly started to insert the balls into his anus. Each sphere was slightly larger than the previous one, and you could see how he had to use more and more force. When the last ball had sunk into his hole, he smiled absently in your direction as he let the chain slide out of his ass again, piece by piece. His gluteal muscles enclosed each link individually and pushed it out slowly and in a controlled manner. Finally, the chain fell to the floor, revealing his gaping, pulsating asshole.

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The stretching sent waves of warmth and excitement through your body. As the plug slid deeper into your butt hole, you felt pressure and fullness inside you. Your device-controlled brain welcomed the sensation and you pushed your bum against the plastic. The gardener boy caressed your chest, and you got even more aroused and eager to take the buttplug fully into your hole. Slowly, your gluteal muscles tensed around the plug, causing a pinching pain. The boy maintained the pressure, slowly forcing the plug deeper into you. You noticed how you tensed up involuntarily and squeezed your muscles, but you were unable to resist. Finally, number 128 released the pressure and slowly pulled the plug out of your aching arse.

He patted your buttocks and continued to press you down onto the table while he fetched a larger, thicker butt plug. "You're doing this really well, boy," he said as he pushed it against your arsehole.  

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You looked at him in disbelief. What did he want from you?! Why?! "You consented as well to Mr Stavinsky moulding you into a decent, capable member of society. Do you think he wouldn’t use your cunt for that?" Gently but firmly, he pushed you forward over a table so that you had to stick your arse out towards him. "Don't worry," he said, "the brain implant will make it easy for you to relax." And he dripped some lubricant onto the dildo.  

The cool, moist plastic gave you a slightly burning sensation on your rosebud as he pressed it against it. You knew you didn't stand a chance, but you didn't want to give in either. So you clenched your buttocks as you felt the implant's signals slowly running down your spine. It only took a moment before you noticed the deep, calm feeling that signalled your body to relax. Slowly, bit by bit, the dildo slid into your arsehole.  

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He cheered you on to do three sets of 15 woodchoppers on each side, and you could feel your muscles reaching their limit. He wanted you to do 15 reps on the seated abductor/adductor machine as well, but with the chastity cage on, it was tricky, especially since you had quite an erection by then. So he let you do goblet squats with a kettlebell instead. Three sets of Kegel exercises, and your muscles ached like they hadn't in a long time.  

Now he ordered you to lie on your stomach, thighs turned outwards and flat on the floor, similar to a swimming frog, with the chastity cage pressing against your stomach. You slowly spread your knees as far as possible while keeping them in line with your hips. He pressed your upper body onto your forearms until your elbows were under your shoulders. You groaned but obeyed him.  

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"Number 786, come here", Mr Stavinsky said softly. You approached him, ready to collect the dishes, but he motioned for you to stop. Your legal guardian looked at your naked and exposed body, carefully. "When was the last time you shaved, number 786?" he asked. You had shaved your face every morning, and your body two days ago. He told you he expected his wards to shave every day.

He gently lifted your arms above your head and ran his finger over your armpits, chest and flanks. He turned you around and continued his inspection by gently pulling your buttocks apart before caressing your inner thighs and lower legs. He ordered you to shave properly after exercise before sending you away.  

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You were still indignant, but the scullion urged you to prepare lunch.  

He made some very fine salad, and you were tasked to bake turkey breast escalopes. As he had taught you, you pound the meat with a mallet until it was half its thickness, evening out the thickness and breaking down its fibers for tenderness. The escalope had to be breaded three times: first with flour, then with egg and finally with fine breadcrumbs. To find out whether the oil was heated to the right temperature, you stuck a wooden stick into the pan and watched carefully to see how bubbles formed. For frying, you were allowed to wear an apron, but it rubbed against your chastity cage, which made you feel a little awkward and somewhat aroused.  

You placed the cooked escalope on a wire rack and waited for number 403 to assemble the meal. Then, you both walked to the dining room where Mr Stavinsky already waited for you.  

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He didn't need to tell you. You didn't have to think. You got on your knees before him, looked him in the eyes and obediently opened your mouth, tongue out, waiting for the ultimate blessing.

He took your hands and carefully brought them together behind your head. Then, he slowly put his phenomenal cock into your eager mouth, allowing you to ferociously suck it. His breathing became heavier and his impressive abdominal muscles twitched rhythmically. When he finally spurt his semen into your mouth, you hurried to taste every little drop of it. You had trouble swallowing it all, for it was so much and you didn't want to waste any. Greedily, you licked his glans until you were sure you had gotten all the cum you could get.

He petted your head. "You'll be very valuable soon, boy!"

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"Don't you want to come over, number 786?" Mr Ben asked. No! Whatever was wrong with you right now, this was insane, and you didn't. You didn't want this chastity cage keeping your little stupid dick locked. You didn't want to be standing here, naked and exposed. He was your legal guardian, and all he did was wrong and illegal! You didn't want to be teased by him, lying in bed waiting for your soft lips! You didn't want to go over to the bed, kneel between his legs and suck his cock. His beautiful, strong, manly cock dripping precious precum. You didn't want to submit to this hot, strong, assertive man. You didn't want to say: "Please Sir, allow me to taste your cock!"

He smiled at you, and waved you over to him.

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Yesterday had been somewhat overwhelming to you. The whole night, you had tried to plan how to speak to your legal guardian to change the situation.

Also, this plastic cage was unbearable! The friction it caused made your dick try to get hard, but inside the cage, it couldn't, and that made you mad. You were tired out as hell, angry and a bit horny. Right after breakfast, you would have to get a way to talk to Mr Stavinsky for real now!

Closemouthed and surly, you helped the kitchen boy prepare breakfast. Quietly, you both ate your oatmeal porridge with seeds and fruits, and then went to Mr Stavinsky's bedroom. You carefully placed the tray on the bedtime table. Just in time for his alarm clock.

He woke up, and tried some of the fruits on his plate, while he ignored you and was focussed on his phone. You stood next to his bed, silently watching him.

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Mr Stavinsky had dismissed you, and you left the office after the pool boy and the house servant.

"Finally he's locked, too!" the house servant stopped abruptly and you bumped into him. He giggled, bent down a bit and wiggled his bare butt cheeks so that they slapped against your locked crotch. "No boner, see 128?" And he reached around your back and pulled you towards him, burrying your chastity cage between his glutes. He hugged you and kissed your mouth passionately, his hands caressing your penis through the plastic cage.

Number 128 told him to stop, and he released you. As you looked down on him, you saw that number 759 was wearing a chastity cage just as the pool boy and yourself now. It wasn't transparent though, but in bright pink. And instead of a tube, it had a small, flat mesh keeping his penis almost invisible. "Now we're one locked, horny family," number 759 was still excited.

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You remembered the situation with the house boy yesterday. He too seemed oddly lewd and raunchy, and you had been at least somewhat surprised when he kissed you, too much to react. Hadn't the cook firmly seized the servant's buttocks, drawing him towards himself and kissing him passionately? What kind of relationship did all the boys actually have with each other?! What was this?

The pool boy was perhaps even more disturbing: whenever he saw his guardian, he would eagerly demean himself before Mr Ben. You had seen him licking his shoes, kissing his feet and cock, all those things; without Mr Stavinsky having to exert any power, he hadn't even told him but the boy seemed to be doing so of his own accord.

Fine for them. But you really had to confront Mr Stavinsky urgently and make it clear to him that you insist he be decent with you. The house servant poked his head through the door and motioned for you to follow him.

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"Lick that clean," Mr Stavinsky had released you and pushed you forward slightly. He was so right! With your rude attitude, you had stained the terrace and without his permission. How disgusting of you and how inappropriate! You couldn't think of anything else as you knelt down.

Without hesitation, and of course without resistance, you began to lick your cum off the floor. You crawled across the terrace on your knees, your bare bottom exposed, and your tongue slid over the rough slabs. You had been so gross! You had shamed your guardian instead of pleasing him. You had resisted instead of being grateful. You had been bad. When the pool edge was finally cleansed of your shame, you looked up. You were alone.

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You finally became more patient as he held you in his arms. It was a comforting feeling to have his strong body behind you. His arms wrapped tightly around you, his chest pressed against your back, his hands placed on your stomach, his cock resting on your bum. You allowed yourself to settle down and, just for a second, sink in into his arms. You noticed how your body relaxed, your neck eased, your head became calm and empty. You let yourself go a little more, accepting the situation; you noticed how your penis became a little fuller and harder. Damn! You hadn't wanked for days, and now your little boy had woken up. Certainly, your guardian and the number 128 had noticed.

The pool boy was already sliding smoothly and gently towards you. Mr Stavinsky gave him a signal with his hand.

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You told him about you ex-girlfriend Evelyn and how jealous you sometimes got when she chatted with other men. How you always feared she was having an affair with colleagues. You didn't go into details about how you saw her having dinner with a friend and freaked out. Made a scene. Threw the bottle at him. How guilty you felt about it now. That he was seriously injured, probably scarred for life. You didn't tell how angry you were with Evelyn, still were. That she'd done nothing, not a thing, to calm the situation, explain anything. She'd just watched you lost it, ruined your life.

"Another violent offender in the kitchen? Oh well." The pool boy looked at you with pity. "We all have to carry our burdens."

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Pool boy number 128 stood at attention, his naked back straight and his exposed buttocks tight, while Mr Stavinsky swam his laps. As you walked up behind him, he turned around briefly:"You can put the pastries on the table over there!" You followed his instructions, only to remain standing there, unsure of what to do next.

"Kitchen duty can be intense, hm?" he continued to talk to you, and you were more than happy. You told him he kind of liked your job, glad to be talking to someone who seemed sane and friendly. It was still uncomfortable for you though to stand in front of a completely naked man, naked yourself, and to have a conversation. It took a while, but as you chatted, you noted he wasn't completely naked.

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Mr Stavinsky groaned, grabbed Number 403's head firmly in his hands, and pushed it down hard. As the boy gagged and gasped for air, he finished into his throat. Number 403 smiled happily, swallowed the cum, and thanked Mr Ben politely. This guy must have been crazy! Horny? Utterly insane to actually enjoy it! How long had he been part of the programme? You had to be careful not to become crazy yourself.

Yet, cooking classes were interesting. He instructed you in "mis en place" and how to organize a workspace and prep ingredients. He gave you tips on how to manage pans and pots well. You practised finding the right temperature for searing and sautéing. You even baked some cupcakes to serve by the pool in the afternoon. The result made you feel a bit proud.

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The next morning, as you and the kitchen boy served breakfast, you watched him closely. He seemed so at peace with himself, waiting patiently for Mr Stavinsky to wake up. Then, once the guardian had given him a sign, he hurried onto the bed, as yesterday, eager to serve him. Again, he kissed and licked Mr Stavinsky's penis until it became hard, then sucked it wildly deep down his throat. Mr Stavinsky caressed him, gently playing with his shaved butthole and guiding the boy's head onto his cock. You couldn't recognise anything you thought looked like him coercing the boy.

Fine, you'd seen guys fuck in jail, more than you'd wished for. But you hadn't saved your virgin ass there just to get laid by Mr Ben now! Though, as long as the program lasted, that would mean no sex for you, as you were confined in this house, alright. Still, you noticed your dick swell, just a bit. You hadn't wanked for a couple of days.

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In the afternoon, number 403 went to the gym with you. The house had a well-equipped fitness room, and you used the rowing machine and the battle ropes. He admonished you to not forget cardio training, so you set out for some spinning. It felt weird to be naked on the spinning bike, your cock and balls on the seat, sweating. The kitchen boy was remarkably athletic. He trained with great vigour, and while you were still doing some weight training, you noticed him sitting on a mat doing the splits and stretching his upper body. "Wow, impressive," you appreciated. He gave you a smile: "You should go and shave. You’ll find everything you need in the bathroom. I’m going to the other room for a bit." And he pointed to a side door in the gym that you hadn’t noticed before.

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Number 759 wore a skin-tight white T-shirt and short black pants that stretched over his backside. He had collected a delivery of groceries and asked you to help him store them. Naked as both of you were, you followed him to the front door, and started moving all the items in the kitchen. Number 759 was very grateful and thanked you several times. "I have to hurry, guys," he said once you were finished, "tidy the bedroom". He kissed you lightly on the cheek, and then the scullion. He returned the kiss, more forcefully, grabbing 759's bum with his hands and squeezing it a little.

The rest of the morning, 403 taught you to cook. You practiced making a basic cream sauce, focusing on adjusting flavor at different seasoning stages. He showed how to grill vegetables on a stove-top grill, and you tried to properly chop onions, carrots, and bell peppers. You prepared a pasta dish for Mr Stavinsky. Then, it was time for lunch.

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Back in the kitchen, you couldn't restrain your questions any longer. "Why did you do that? Are you all right?" you blurted out. The kitchen boy calmly turned at you, some sperm still dripping from his chin. "What? Waking up Mr Ben? He likes it that way," he replied, smiling. "But," you hesitated a little, "why are you letting him do such thing with you and act like that?"

"Haven't you seen how delicious his cock looks?! Didn't you also feel the desperate urge to swallow his cum? It's truly irresistible!" He was obviously still aroused and happy.

You sought to bring him to his senses; this was disgusting and most certainly a breach of the rules in the program's contract. But you were interrupted when the house boy knocked on the kitchen door.

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When the alarm clock rang, the waiter boy immediately assumed an attitude of attention. Mr Ben smiled at him and threw back the bed covers; he was nude.

Number 403 wasted no time. He lept forward and with no hesitation started licking Mr Ben's penis. Slowly at first, and then with increasing vigour, he moved his tongue along the man's shaft, which in return got harder and harder. Mr Ben moaned and grabbed 403's head firmly in his large hands. He looked him deep into the eyes. "Please, Sir, allow me to taste your precious cum, Sir!" number 403 exhaled. He had not even finished his call when Mr Ben had already pulled him a little closer and pressed his head firmly onto his glans. The boy pursed his lips slightly and let the cock slide down his throat without resistance, using his tongue to spread the dripping saliva over the man's balls.

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When you arrived in the kitchen, the kitchen boy had already prepared a sumptuous breakfast for your guardian. He pointed to your breakfast, which he apparently had prepared as well already. Oatmeal porridge, again, but it still was delicious. Also, he gave you a smoothie to drink. A smoothie! You had always made fun of the wimps who drank something as ridiculous as a smoothie; it wasn't real food, certainly not for grown lads — and you had just been released from prison! But maybe that's why they'd given you one, to turn you into some softie? Anyway, it was actually quite tasty and apparently full of fibre, because it was incredibly filling.

Before you had really finished your breakfast, he took the tray and gave you a sign to follow him. Up the stairs, to Mr Stavinsky's bedroom. He was still asleep, and number 403 placed the tray on the bedside table with great care and noiselessly knelt beside the bed.

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You felt silly, and also a bit guilty. The poor guy had had his testicles removed as a medical necessity, and he was surely traumatised by it. And you had stared at him like he was some kind of alien life form, and then chatted him up in a completely insensitive manner. You remembered the father of Evelyn, your ex-girlfriend. He had also had a testicle removed to treat his tumour, and used to make dirty jokes about it. Actually a nice guy, and he liked you, but his sense of humour just was terrible.

"786, stop daydreaming. Here, take the drink and follow me!" Number 403 handed you a tray with some home-made lemonade, and you followed him back to the dinner table.

As you bent down to serve Mr Stavinsky his drink, he gently, almost cautiously, took hold of your forearm: "You're tired, my boy. Go and get some sleep!"

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You had read the contract before you joined the program: Your legal guardian was to make some decisions for you, but never without your consent. And you'd never, ever consent to be treated that way. Both of the wards somehow seemed to accept Mr. Bens behavior. But you wouldn't. You'd better talk to "Mr. Ben" soon, to make sure you all were on the same page here. If that kind of person was what he was looking for, there must have been a misunderstanding. You followed his fast steps back to the house, to the first floor now.

Meeting the third ward was much more pleasant, even though you were still a little shaken. He greeted you happily and with some charm, and he seemed talkative and generally friendly, although he was in a hurry making the beds in Mr Stavinsky's huge bedroom. You liked him.

However, your keeper didn't give you much time; it was almost dinner and he took you back to the kitchen.

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The house Ben led you through was modern and somewhat plush. You could see a spacious living room through a door, but he continued straight ahead. There were small, charming details everywhere.

"This is 403, my kitchen boy. He's currently busy preparing dinner." As the kitchen door swung open, you saw the scullion, bent over the worktop, focussed on preparing vegetables. He showed no reaction to your arrival. Like you, he was completely undressed, his bare buttocks protruding towards you. You turned towards Mr Stavinsky to ask him about it, but before you could, he said: "You'll be mostly working with 403. But for now, let's head to the garden to introduce you to garden boy 128." And with that, he stepped through the patio door into the outside.

You followed him, slightly puzzled.

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He cranked Perry's bum down a little and gently placed the tip of his cock between his buttocks. ‘That's why you're here: because you would never admit that you crave it, but you want nothing more than to build a bondage bench for submissive sluts, with all your devotion, only to end up strapped to it yourself, your arse ready to be fucked.’ And his cock slid into Perry. ‘Is that right, boy?’ Perry wasn't quite ready to confess yet.

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You almost came in Perry's mouth, but you kept your composure, slowly circled around him and carefully pulled out the butt plug. He moaned softly as you pushed your cock into his hole. Although it had already been stretched, it was tight, but you dared to penetrate deep inside him. Your thighs bumped against his balls, which were still sheathed in the leather parachute, between his spread legs. It didn't take long for you to climax.

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Today you wanted to spruce yourself up a bit before dealing with Perry. You fetched your black patent leather boots, put on your rubber vest and slipped on your thin, smooth leather gloves. Then you went to the playroom.

He was awake and sitting on the mattress with a defiant expression on his face. ‘I don't know your intentions, Sir,’ he said, with surprising firmness. He had probably thought carefully about exactly what to say.

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Back in the living room, you saw that Jerome had called you a few times, so you called him back. Then you went to bed early.

You didn't sleep very well that night. Once, you even tiptoed to the playroom and peeked cautiously through the door. Perry was lying on his back and seemed to be sleeping restlessly. You watched him for a moment: a really attractive bloke. You woke up early, but decided to wait a little longer before visiting your captive.

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Strike after strike, you hammered it into him: ‘I'm the only one giving orders here! You'll stay in this bondage rack until I'm done with you! Understood, Perry?’ His tender, plump ass was covered in red marks when you stepped back from him. ‘Yes, Sir Farrell,’ he whimpered, distraught and frightened. You gave him a slap on the bum with your bare hand; he groaned. His buttocks looked adorable as they twitched, red and glowing with pain.

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You had been impatiently waiting for the shipping date, but when Perry pulled up in his delivery van, you got a little nervous.
‘Hey Farrell! Great to be back. I’m sure you and your “guests” will love this thing. It’s right here; shall we cover it up, or do you mind if the neighbours see what’s in there?’ And he grinned from ear to ear. Your yard wasn't really easy to see into, but you put a blanket over it as you helped him carry his delivery into the house.

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