Enslaved Family

©2010 Herb Cat. Do not reproduce or distribute this story without the author's permission.

As an author, I welcome feedback from readers. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herb_Cat@mailcity.com. Thank you.

.oOo.

Chapter 7 - The "Vacation" Ends

I gotta tell you, it's no fun bouncing up and down on a horse trotting through the bridle path with nothing between your twat and the saddle. My crotch hurt like hell when we walked into the dining hall for supper. Chuck winked at me when he took our order. I smiled and he popped another boner.

Later, in the barracks, he sought me out. He helped shave my ass. "You're real nice, Soccer Mom."

"So are you, Chuck." We sat on Chuck's cot. I looked up at the photo above it. I thought I recognized his uncle, but of course he wouldn't have called for my services if he was homosexual. "You're too fuckin nice to be used like this by your uncle."

"Shit. I guess it's how it's supposed to be. Just like your family. I mean, no offense, Soccer Mom, but it seems like some people are just supposed to be slaves. I think some people were made to be Masters and the rest of us were made to serve them."

"You've thought about this a lot, I see."

"Yeah. At first, I didn't understand why my parents gave me to him, but I think they must have known best. It was easier for me after I just accepted it. Just like your two kids. It looks like they've accepted it."

"You've seen Julie and Junior."

"Oh, yeah, the Gundersons really like A2, I mean Julie, a lot. She's real nice to their son."

"Their son? You mean that large man that eats with them?"

"Yeah, he's Master Ray. He's like almost forty, but he acts like a kid. He's got that downer thing."

"Down's Syndrome?"

"Yeah, that's it. So he's a retard, but he's real nice. Always smiling and laughing. He's likes A2 a lot. I know that."

"She hasn't come back to the barracks since she's started serving them."

"No, of course not. She sleeps with Master Ray. I thought you knew that. That's why Master Gunderson asked for her, so Master Ray could satisfy his urges and all."

"So, he's fucking her?"

"Probably. I see them holding hands and kissing and all. She makes him laugh a lot. And that makes his parents happy. A2 is a nice girl." I could see Chuck was jealous of Master Ray. The retard was able to get his jollies with a pretty naked eleven-year old girl and poor Chuck had nothing more than his fist to satisfy his urges.

"You said you saw my son also? A3?

"Yeah, he's hopping all over the place. A lot of the families use him cause the kids like to play with him. tie him up, hang him in trees, you know, stuff like that. He's a strong kid too. Well he would be if he plays soccer. I seen him carrying stuff that I'd have trouble with."

"I doubt that, Chuck." I gave his biceps a squeeze.

"Thanks, Soccer Mom, you're nice. Of course, you know there are some pedophiles here who use him as a sex toy." I nodded.

Just then Junior came into the barracks. "Hi, 74. Hi, A1," he said cheerily as he passed us on his way to the toilet. My wonderful, resilient, easygoing son. I was happy to see both my children found ways to enjoy this crazy camp. My mind was thinking about how their lives had changed since last year. I wondered if Chuck was right, that maybe my family was made for this kind of servitude. I looked at Junior as he plopped on his cot. Zero's cot was empty. He was working late. I thought about how frustrated he must be with his cock locked in a cage. I thought about Master Klamath and the cock I could never have. I thought about Master Anderson and the cock I craved.

"Uh, Soccer Mom?"

"Yes, Chuck, Honey?"

"It's um, er, your hand." I looked down. Unconsciously, I had grabbed the fourteen-year old's cock. I pulled it away,

"I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I was thinking about..."

"Soccer Mom?"

"Yes, Chuck."

"Do you think A0 would mind?"

"Mind what, Chuck?"

"Er, um, never mind."

"You want to make love to me, Chuck?"

"I shouldn't have said anything. You're married."

"Chuck, you know damn well, I'm owned by someone else. Zero hasn't been allowed to fuck me in over a year. And he's witnessed a lot of men fucking me. He's a slave, Chuck. He's accepted his lot just like you. If anyone would mind, it would be my Master, but he ain't fuckin here and I don't fuckin give a shit. I know Master Klamath ain't going to fuck me, and a woman has needs, Chuck, just like a boy has needs." He put his arm around my naked body and I felt like a teen again. I turned my face to him and we kissed. A long warm loving kiss. Suddenly, he pulled away and I opened my eyes. Zero was standing there.

"I'm sorry, Mister Zero." Chuck drew his arm away.

"No, Son, don't stop. My wife was enjoying it. We've been married thirteen years and I never loved anyone else. The only thing I want in this whole fuckin world is for her to be happy." He pointed to the wretched cage. "Please give her the pleasure I'm not able to give her now. Perhaps I never could, really. I know she's a real MILF, Son." Zero walked over to his cot. I had tears in my eyes.

Chuck and I resumed our hug and began feeling each other's bodies. How I loved his hands on my breasts, in my hair, against my crotch. I began squeezing his teenage cock and sliding the skin up and down his shaft. Soon his young fingers were inside my cunt.

My eyes were closed but I knew we had an audience. The slaves around us were watching and getting their own voyeuristic thrills. I lay back on Chuck's cot and spread my legs. He got above me and lowered his cock to my hungry hole. Hormones had taken over now. He began thrusting and I heard people around me echoing my moans. Then I heard a little voice say, "Fuck the Bitch." It was Junior, repeating the mantra he'd learned from Master Haroon. I smiled for I knew there wasn't any malice in his heart. He wanted his mommy's happiness as much as zero. Soon other voices had joined the chorus, encouraging the fourteen-year old to "Fuck the Bitch!" And that he did, with all the energy the teen stallion could muster. I swooned when his cum was filling my empty chalice. We both got what we needed.

We held each other tight, not wanting the moment to end. Sweet Junior covered us up and tucked in the blanket.

The next morning, after I brought the Klamaths' laundry down, Master Jesse sent me to cabin 3, a cabin I hadn't been to before. Inside I saw Chuck's uncle. He was standing there bare-chested. My son was standing beside him with a worried look on his face. Over in the corner, looking dejected as always, sat zero. I began putting Master Homo's clothes in the closet and drawers. He kept looking at me, but there was no erotic lust in his eyes. He was in excellent shape, with well-toned pecs and abs and an even tan. He wore a gold ring in one ear and had chains tattooed on his biceps. I imagined his cock was ample. I finished my duty and turned to leave.

"You realize my nephew is underage."

"Sir, Yes, Sir, he's fourteen, Sir."

"That means you committed statutory rape."

"Sir, Yes, Sir."

"So you think it's all right to corrupt the morals of a minor?"

What audacity! He'd been fucking the lad's ass for four years, and when the boy finally gets some pleasurable sex, this idiot accuses me of corruption! "Sir, I think the boy deserved to know what real love is, Sir."

"I see! You're a fuckin bitch, a pedo creep and a naked whore and you think you know what my nephew deserves. Well, then, I think I know what your son deserves." He grabbed A3 and pushed him in front of him. Zero winced. "You don't see anything wrong with fucking a little kid, do you, Bitch?"

"Sir, No, Sir." I was beaten.

"Get over there and sit on your pathetic hetero hubby''s lap and watch. I want an audience, just like you wanted everyone to see your perverted attack on my poor nephew."

So my husband and I were forced to watch as Junior nervously helped this faggot out of his pants, then knelt and sucked him off as he'd learned to do so masterfully. When the cock was fully engorged and stuck out an obscene ten inches, Master Homo bent the boy over the footboard of the bed so his face looked right at his helpless parents. The attacker spit on the young anus, poked his filthy finger in a few times and then pressed his throbbing cock against my son's virgin sphincter. I knew Master Anderson would be angry that someone else was plucking my son's rosebud. But Master would say it was my fault for satisfying my own lusts with no thought for the consequences.

Junior screamed. His poor little asshole was being penetrated by a spike as thick as a horsecock. He couldn't stop the tears as Master Homo pounded into him over and over again. "Yeah, that's it, Boy. Take it like the boi bitch you are. Now you know why you got this fuckin shithole. It's here for your Masters to plug any time we fuckin feel like it. Just the same as your fuckin old man." With that he ordered zero to get his ass over there. My husband practically dropped me on the floor as he rushed to his son's side. Master Homo pushed him over the footboard. Deftly, he pulled out of Junior's ass and rammed into zero's ass with no further preparation. My son came running over to me and sat in my lap shaking like a leaf. "You watch carefully, Kid." Master Homo was ramming away inside zero. "Look and see what kind of life you can look forward to, A3. The same as 74. Your pitiful body was put on this fuckin planet for one reason. To have your fuckin ass fucked...good...and...hard!" He emphasized his words with thrusts, then finally pulled out and sprayed his cum all over zero's ass. Then he pulled him around and made him lick off the cock that had been up his ass. All three of us left the cabin shaking.

Zero picked his son up in his arms. Junior clung tightly to his neck as we walked away from cabin 3. "It really hurt, Daddy." He hadn't said "Daddy" in weeks. I was pleased.

"I know, Junior."

"How do you stand it. I didn't know it hurt so bad. You must be really brave and strong, Daddy."

"So are you, Son. You're the bravest, strongest nine-year old boy in the whole world." He rubbed the boy's ass comfortingly. We walked in silence a while. "Son, next time,..." (all three of us knew in our hearts there would be a next time) "...next time, when they're about to stick their cocks in, pretend you have to make number two. When you do that, your muscle will relax a little and it won't hurt quite as bad."

"Thanks, Daddy. I'll remember that." I saw Junior had calmed down a little. His face looked serious. "Daddy, do you think Master Anderson will want to fuck my ass now, like he fucks you?"

"Probably, Son. Mistress also." I tried to imagine her strapon invading my precious boy's tender bottom.

"Will you teach me more about getting fucked, Daddy? I want to do it good for Master." My husband had tears in his eyes. He hugged Junior again and set him on the ground. I was so proud of both of them.

"There you are, you fuckin whores!" It was Master Jesse. "A0, get your ass down to the lake. There's a loose railing on the dock. If anyone gets hurt, it'll be your fault. A3, get over to the playground. The kids are yelling for their fuckin punching bag. And you, Bitch, the Klamaths are packing to leave. Get your bitch ass back there. Honestly, your family gives me more trouble than all the other slaves put together!"

That night, after supper, two lesbian dominatrices had me for dessert. It was a beautiful moonlit evening as I headed back to the barracks. Up ahead, I saw Master Ray walking toward me with his strong arm around my naked daughter. She was leaning her head on his shoulder. "Hello, Bitch," he greeted me in that delightful thick-tongued voice typical of Down's Syndrome.

"Sir, Good Evening, Sir," I replied.

"Sir," my daughter asked him contritely, "may I please stop and speak to my mother, Sir?"

"Uh, I guess so." We sat down on a nearby bench, Julie in the middle. He kept one arm around her and fondled her with the other hand as we talked.

"Don't be offended, Mom. He knows to call all the naked women he sees Bitch. He can't remember all our names, you know."

"Bitch," he repeated nicely.

"Master Ray means no malice. He doesn't have an unkind hair on his head. He's really very nice, Mom. His parents taught him to be kind, just like them." I found this difficult to accept since they were spending their vacation at a camp that abused other people, but I kept my thoughts to myself. I turned from looking at her face and watched his thick finger probing her young cunt.

"He doesn't hurt you when he, you know?"

"You know," he repeated.

"When we have sex? Oh no, he's very gentle. I truly love the way he fucks me. He still has premature ejaculation a lot, but he's learning to hold it until he gets inside me. He knows that's what I want."

"I know what you want, Bitch."

"Is Junior doing OK? I mean after this morning and all?" It didn't surprise me that she knew all about his rape. I'm sure everyone knew. And I'm sure anyone who had clothes to wear didn't give a rat's ass that he was hurt.

"Junior is a survivor, Julie. Just like you."

"I think we get that from Daddy." She also was calling him Daddy!

"I'm sure you get it from him, Sweetheart. Don't worry, we're all going to get through this."

"Goodbye, Bitch." Master Ray had been patient long enough. He stood up and because of where his hands were, Julie was put on her feet as well.

"Bye, Mom."

"Bye, Julie. Sir, Goodnight, Sir. Take good care of her, Sir."

"Take good care of Bitch."

I was pleased for Julie, but concerned about Junior. He wasn't coming back to the barracks. Now that Master Homo had opened up his vulnerable little hole, he was fair game for every pedo pervert in camp. Every night, he was getting his nine-year old ass drilled and every day he had to endure the slugs and swats of boys and girls at play. On my cot, I raised my eyes and whispered, "My Lord, please be with my little boy. You know he doesn't deserve this kind of treatment." When I said, "Amen," I realized I was not staring up into heaven but at the photo of Master Anderson. He had become not only my Master, but my God. How I wished he could hear my prayer and rescue my son one more time.

At the end of the week, I was collecting laundry when the Gundersons were packing their car. This time, Julie wasn't toting suitcases. Instead, they let Master Ray sit with her on the porch until the car was ready. "OK, Ray, it's time to leave now."

"Leave now," he said and walked to the car with Julie in hand. He got into the car with no evident emotion. His mother made sure his seat belt was on and closed the door. He looked out the window and shouted to me, "Goodbye, Bitch." My daughter leaned into the car and gave him a kiss. When she stood up again, I heard him say, "Goodbye, Julie." I couldn't see her face but I expect there were tears in her eyes. There were in mine.

I saw Junior coming from one of the cabins. Two men in their forties were standing on the porch giggling as he walked bowlegged down the path toward the playground where his tormenters were waiting. Just then Jesse summoned. "A3, get your ass over here!"

I learned later, two old ladies settling into their cabin had also seen Junior trudging along the path. They asked Jesse to give him to them for the next week. They both had just deposited their husbands in the barracks. For their time in the country, they wanted a real vacation, free from the responsibility of constantly ordering their old male slaves around. It must be tiring for a Dom to constantly have to worry about keeping the slaves productively occupied. Perhaps, I pondered, that was why Master and Mistress sent us away, so they could have a break. Instead of wanting someone to boss around, the two matrons just wanted a little boy they could mother and smother for a few days. As soon as they got hold of Junior, they began tweaking his tits and flicking his dick and slobbering him with kisses. They couldn't keep their hands off him. He ate between them at meals, getting as many desserts as he asked for. He walked between them holding both their hands. When they went to the playground, instead of being bullied by the other kids, he was tended like a child half his age. The women insisted on pushing him on the swing, riding the seesaw with him and sliding down the slides. They took him horseback riding and sailing and golfing. They made sure their henpecked spouses saw how well they treated the little boy they kept calling their Baby. At night he slept between them and nuzzled their ample breasts. I don't know how, but my whispered prayer to Master had been answered.

A2 and I were not assigned anyone in particular for our third week, so we usually spent the night with one man or another, sometimes with a couple, sometimes with a Lessie. In the day, we worked in the kitchen or the laundry. Zero went about his usual duties, preventing the Masters in camp from injuring themselves while undergoing his own daily physical and psychological injury.

After our last lunch in camp, the children and I traipsed silently after zero behind the storage shed. He had found our car parked there. It looked like a hundred birds had shat on it. Someone had scrawled in the caked-on dirt on the windshield, "Slave Car." The tires had been swapped out for four nearly bald ones. Rain from the open windows had soaked the rear seat. We opened our suitcases and of course they were empty. Not even a fuckin toothbrush. The clothes we had taken off three weeks before were still where we threw them, on the wet back seat. We silently got dressed again; we would have been happy to wear rags for any covering was enough to remove the stigma of slavery. We climbed in and zero turned the ignition. He saw that a lot of miles had been put on the car and the gas was nearly empty. We drove away without a word.

After stopping for gas, zero got us to the highway and finally spoke. "You know we don't have to drive back to the Andersons. We could go somewhere new and start life all over again." Silence. "I'll leave it up to you." Silence. "Just let me know." No one said a word. We all knew where we belonged. He kept the car headed toward home.

.oOo.

As an author, I welcome feedback from readers. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herb_Cat@mailcity.com. Thank you.