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DISCLAIMER: The following is a fictional story and all characters depicted within are the intellectual property of Silversune. The story contains themes of slavery, punishment, incest, sex between men and men, men and women and possibly men and other 'things'. If you are under 18, it is illegal to read this sort of content in your region, or if you do not enjoy these types of stories please read no further.

Chapter 1: Introduction & Processing

Greying, black hair was what first caught his attention, though it would be fairer to say it was grey with hints of black at this point. The face looking down at him was aged, perhaps in his fifties or sixties, but still ruggedly handsome. The man’s body was thick and still in fine shape despite the advancing years. Looking back up again Vasyl started to speak only to remember that the gag was still firmly in place.

This drew a chuckle from the man and he helped the boy to his feet and immediately the cold started to eat at him again. Looking around finally he came to realize that he was in a large walk in freezer. Shortly after he was lead out, the man taking hold of his forgotten leash, and into a good sized kitchen with professional quality appliances.

“You’ve questions, I know, but you don’t have leave to ask them. That’s why you’re gagged and will remain so until you’ve become fully comfortable in your new position… or maybe longer. It depends on my mood,” the man leading him began amiably while guiding Vasyl through a series of rooms. “Since you’re wondering, yes I am your employer. When you are given permission to speak you will call me Sir, Master or Grandpa…” He paused and looked back at the boy’s surprised gaze, but elected to say nothing.

This… wasn’t what the young man was expecting. The arrival here had been different and, he admitted to himself, pretty hot. How nice the man was being though had completely come as a surprise and even though he reasoned it was just an act to put him at ease; that alone unsettled him more. Then again, perhaps that was the point.

As Vas came to that realization his new master stopped before a plain wall. In fact the entire house he’d seen up until this point looked normal. The servants they passed were dressed in crisp and clean uniforms. Mister Smythe, or rather grandpa, was also dressed nicely in a pair of slacks and a button up shirt that fit him too well to possibly be store bought. While he considered this the man reached forward to press the wall slightly, it clicked and drew Vasyl’s attention instantly as it shifted back an inch and then quietly slid to the side.

The sight which greeted him replaced the concern that somehow he’d been delivered to the wrong man’s house with the realization that he was likely in over his head. The wall had opened up on a long corridor which changed the mental map that the young man had been trying to get of the house. The walls, floor and ceiling appeared to be made of metal. The light only pierced half a dozen feet into the hall, though just at the edge a hanging light bulb and cord could be seen. It was what the hall contained, however, that drew the lion’s share of his attention.

Beneath the extinguished light a pair of figures could be seen. Both of them were bound in a kneeling position. The captives were clothed entirely in rubber suits so tight that it appeared to be a second skin. Their arms were crisscrossed over their chests with leather straps that wrapped over their shoulders, down over their backs and around to their stomachs where the straps were fastened closed with padlocks so that they could not move them.

Like their bodies their heads were also covered. The masks only had three holes. One for their mouths, though currently they were gagged, and two for their nose where little tubes extended out to keep the air passage open. Invariably Vasyl’s eyes were drawn down though. The chains running from ankles to the leather straps keeping his arms locked down were briefly noted as keeping them in a kneeling position, but it was the machines that the rubber boys were hooked up to which frightened and intrigued Vas more than the rest of the setup.

Cylinders covered the boy’s hard shafts and they moved up and down the trapped cocks at a slow pace which after a few moments sped up and then a few moments later slowed back down once again milking the slaves. Additionally Vas noticed through the clear cylinder that there were tubes which emerged from the slave’s urethras. Those tubes were guided back towards the wall behind them and ran along it. From the moans he could hear further down the dark hall he could imagine that the tubes were joining others with the same purpose of transporting the milked cum.

His master gave him a few moments to study the initial slaves and then began down the hall between the two. As he passed he pulled the light cord and revealed another pair and another light further down. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness beyond he would begin to make out further pairs beyond the edges of the light, but a new bulb would be lit and he’d be blinded again briefly as he was drawn past.

Though he did not need to explain the older man decided to. “I can see the questions burning… so I will answer this time. This is their permanent position. They do not leave this hall. These creatures have signed their lives away so they’re a permanent instillation. Other slaves see to their feeding and care, once every six months a doctor checks their health and also supplies me with what I need to increase their cum production.” His voice was not so much as unkind, but disinterested as he explained. “They’re less than animals. Their entire purpose is to produce cum which is enhanced with nutrients and used throughout the manner. We are very self-sufficient here.”

Smythe paused before one and then moved his shoe to slip it under the closest slave’s sack and lift it up, producing a groan and a shudder from the man as he came hard… clearly this was the first time he’d been touched in a long time. Vas dropped his eyes to the sac obediently and blinked as he realized it was at least twice the size of his own, if not more. Dropping his foot his master smirked and turned to walk along, “a side effect of the drugs to increase their production. Those here the longest are the largest.”

The hall ended at an iron bound door which the aging master unlocked and guided the young man through. He found himself at the top of a set of circular stone stairs lit the light which pierced through what Vasyl could only imagine to be arrow slits. The young man paused, pondering the type of home he found himself in. So far it was large, but what he had assumed was a manor house seemed small beside the newest revisions he was constantly making to the mental map.

Vas hadn’t even realized he’d stopped until there was a sharp tug on the leash. Blinking he looked towards the man standing at the other end of the leather before ducking his head apologetically and stepping up behind him quietly. “Inquisitive,” Smythe commented with disapproval heard clearly in his voice, but he did not further reprimand the young man. Vasyl took notice of the shift that his master’s demeanor had taken. It had gone from warm and inviting initially to cool but still willing to give an explanation and then finally to short and disapproving in what, to him, seemed like a short period.

Before he could start to worry what such quick personality shifts might mean about the man Vasyl found his self being lead down the circular stair. After a few turns the stairs ended at an ironbound door. The man leading him unlocked this door as well and pushed it open revealing a plain room with what looked like a long wooden butcher’s table with straps at each of the four corners set on one side of the room. A stockade was in the other half of the room and hanging from the center was a hook with a spreader bar slung from it. Vas’ eyes went from one thing to the next as he was lead towards the stockade and then the young man’s eyes lifted to his master before moving beyond to see a second door leading out of the room as well as a work table set with straight razors, jars of viscous looking substances and piles of black rubber.

Before he could see exactly what the rubber was for he was turned around with his back to the work bench and bent over at the waist. Head and hands were secured then the man walked away after locking him in place. While Vas waited he listened in closely as the older man moved around out of sight. The wait wasn’t long though as the man stepped back into view and used one hand to release the ball gag and help that out of the slaves aching mouth before using the other to begin rubbing shaving cream over the boy’s short hair.

“I would suggest you remain still if you don’t wish to be cut,” said the voice from above him as he watched his master’s hands rub clean on a towel. Tossing that over his arm he brought a straight razor into view, letting Vasyl take a good long look, before he began to scrape away the lad’s dark hair. During this the slave didn’t make a sound nor move though he watched keenly as the blade was pulled back and cleaned after ever sweep.

When finally done a clean portion of the towel was run over his bald head before Smythe slapped the sensitive flesh for emphasis. Vasyl jumped a bit then and then tried to peek up just as his master moved back out of sight again to put away the shaving equipment and retrieve other things.

After a few moments the man stepped back over and set a couple things on the top of one of the stockades wider supporting beams before he looked down at the recently shaved boy. “So tell me son, I’ve given you some time to think on it. What have you chosen to call me when allowed to speak?” Vas hadn’t actually thought about it, but now he did while again trying to look up into the face of the handsome older male.

He debated for all of five seconds, but ended up silently justifying and choosing the kinkier of the titles. “Grandfather, sir…” He’d never known his maternal grandparents and his paternal grandparents had disowned his father so he’d never met them until the untimely death of his parents when one of the rounds landed him in their house for a few months… and during that time he had found his grandsire a handsome, but all together frightening man.

From his position the young man wasn’t able to see his master’s eyes, but the lips drew into something like an approving smirk. “What a kinky lad you are… boys shouldn’t be lusting after their grandpas you know… I bet if you were a girl you’d want your grandpa to fill your belly with his cum. wouldn’t you?” Vasyl flushed in shame, but at the same time his cock had hardened fully once again. “Look at that, I’d say that hard cock is all the answer I need son. In fact I think…” the man continued before he leaned down and whispered in Vasyl’s ear, “only animals commonly inbreed like that. Are you an animal?”

“N-no,” Vasyl started to respond before he helped as another slap fell on his smooth head. Wincing then the young man quickly corrected himself, “yes, sir… err yes, grandpa.” The hand that had slapped a moment before rubbed his head gently and then lifted as he retrieved one of the items that he’d set down before. The sound of a jar opening could be head and then the cool substance was rubbed over his head, face and neck.

“I tell you what, you aren’t the only slave here boy and we don’t want people to start getting jealous when they see how much you look like me… so let’s do something about that.” As his new grandpa spoke again Vasyl for a moment actually questioned if there was actually some resemblance between the two, despite how ludicrous the thought seemed, eventually he had to admit though that there was some a little, but that he had a slighter, more slender build. Not quite heroin chic, but close to it. Vasyl clamped the thought back down again just in time to catch the tail end of Smythe’s explanation on what that ‘something’ was.

“… Will be fused to your head.” Vasyl blinked and then forced himself to recall what had just been explained to him while he’d been pondering familial traits. As it came into focus he pulled back sharply only to be reminded he was held quite securely in the stockade. The substance had just been rubbed over his head, face and neck served two purposes, his owner had explained. One it would prevent hair from growing while it was present and two it would adhere to whatever it was sandwiched between permanently. What it was going to be between was a rubber mask and his face.

Smythe started to laugh as he noticed the fear in the boy’s eyes and he allowed it to run rampant as he reached for the mask and started to slip it over that bound head. Certainly the contract had said everything would be reversed, but there were slaves here for life, he’d just seen them. It was possible that they would ignore the contract entirely and just keep him. Worse there was no one who would bother to go looking for Vasyl.

He continued to fight and tug at his bindings while the man pressed here and there, assuring that the mask was a perfect fit to his skin. So that he could see what was going on around him there were holes for his eyes set with lenses which were mirrored on the outside to keep his eyes from being seen. However there were buckles on the outside so that a blindfold could be fixed in place. The nose caused his to turn down a little and made it blend in with the rest of his face, but it had two holes so he could breath. Below that the mouth of it molded to his, but his lips had been left free of the adhesive. Another set of buckles enabled a gag to be locked into place as well.

Once he was happy with the effect the older man smoothed the neck down then locked the collar attached to the bottom of the hood tight with a heavy padlock. He lifted the key so that the blue eyes peering out from the rubber could see and then he dropped the small key. It bounced on the cement floor a few times then fell into an open drain in the floor and he could hear it tinkling downwards for a few moments before becoming beyond his reach.

The ball gag was lifted and put back between his lips before being locked back in place. “And now time for a little confession,” the man murmured while he walked around the young man and stroked a hand down his spine. His fingers stroked over the curve of Vasyl’s ass and stroked his shaft which, despite his panic, had never softened. For a moment he toyed with the tip of the cock, pinching lightly, and then he left for long enough to get a little lube.

Slick fingers started to push their way into his tight ass a moment later and a groan emerged from Vasyl’s throat before a second finger was added. “Did you ever wonder why your father was disowned by his parents, why they despised you so much?” The two fingers sawed in and out then before he was entirely ready a third was added. The bound man found it difficult to focus given those fingers but he did have an instant question about how exactly he would know those details only to find out a second later.

Another pained groan escaped and the man took that as his answer. “No? That’s because of how your parents met. You see, they met here in this house… with your father bent over like you are now.” The fingers slipped out then and the head of the man’s thick cock could be felt at the recently violated entrance. “Your mother sat right over in the corner, watching as her daddy broke in his new slave.” Smythe waited for a moment until those words sunk in and the boy’s muscles started to tighten. At that moment he thrust his fat shaft into his grandson’s bound body and hilted himself while the boy let out a strangled cry that was a mixture of outrage and pain.

The muscles clenched down around his shaft as the boy tried to expel him without success. Strong hands gripped the slender hips and as he pounded into that ass while growling. “That’s right, boy. Enjoy your granddaddy’s meat. Scream and cry, but you will never get free of me. You’re mine to use and abuse.” The sound of flesh slapping against flesh counterpointed the words, nailing them into his mind.

The hands rubbed over his ass and squeezed firmly before one reached around and stroked down along his throbbing shaft. Vasyl groaned into the gag. The pain of the quick impalement was still there, but so was a growing pleasure. The hand stroked before slipping up to his sack and gripping firmly, squeezing until the boy’s knees buckled before he let go, slapped the hard cock and started to pound in again.

Vasyl moaned into his gag and tried to speak more than once, though the words were lost until Smythe noticed and decided to remove the ball gag once again. The ball part was taken out of the straps that had held it secure. Once he could speak the boy started to moan loudly, his voice lifting to plead. “Fuck me granddaddy, please fuck me full of your cum…” And Smythe gave in to the younger man’s sweet pleas with a low husky laugh at his perverted boy.

The pounding quickened as the boy squeezed the elder man’s cock wantonly and with only a few strokes he started to cum deep into the boy… though at the same time one hand reached down and pinched the tip of Vasyl’s shaft, preventing him from cumming while he finished himself off. Once his own orgasm faded Smythe pulled out and then started to push the ball from the gag into Vas’ stretched hole, forcing it in before he manipulated it deeper.

While Vas whined at his lack of orgasm and the ball now in him his grandpa moved away and collected a few more balls. Returning he began to stuff them into him until he couldn’t force anymore in. Then he slipped a short plug in and kept it from being forced back out while he twisted a dial and caused the base of the metal part within him to expand until it couldn’t have been pulled out.

Finally the slave was released from the stockade and he nearly collapsed, but thanks to his owner’s strong arms he was instead drawn over to the center of the room before helped to lie down on the cool floor. The spreader bar was lowered then. A pair of boots were put on the boy’s feet while he laid back and groaned… far too full and drained of energy to be able to fight back.

The boots were attacked to the cuffs and then Vasyl found himself being hauled up by his feet. With gravity working against him the balls nestled deeply in his bowels and pressed up against his prostate. Smythe grinned quietly and spun the boy around before stopping him and reaching out to stroke his dripping cock briefly and then letting go.

Stepping back then the aged man grabbed a leather flogger and moved behind his pet to run it up and down his body. “Cum for grandpa…” he ordered and when it didn’t happen immediately his arm swung, striking the masked boy across the ass, eliciting a cry from the captive. “I said cum for grandpa,” he repeated and again struck. The balls shifted a bit and the young man’s cock bounced as his master started repeating his order and then striking him. His legs, ass and back swiftly grew red and then he was turned around and belly and chest started to show marks.

Finally he swatted Vasyl’s hard cock with the leather flogger and the boy screamed and spasmed all at once, jets of cum arching into the air. “Yes Grandpa!” he called out once his scream had faded and the pain and pleasure had moved to a more tolerable level. The man waited for a few moments, letting Vasyl catch his breath then he reached out and gripped the boy by the sore balls. “What do you say?”

“Thank you grandpa…”