Stupidly Ka-Lan felt an odd sense of male pride. He’d passed muster, his tackle had been given the once-over and he’d passed the test. He should have been simply pleased that he’d been saved from certain death in their terrible mines. But still the overriding feeling was a blossoming pride in himself. Dumb or what?
His tackle looked the part. Fully functioning. He’d shot his stuff. Power – Tick! Strength – Tick! Number of times – Tick!
Under the rigorous scrutiny of a world-class sadist .. . he had got the stamp of approval. Unthinking? The way things were .. odd he should feel proud of himself .. he’d landed himself in the hands of a sadistic bitch.
A world-class bitch .. who clearly had done this kind of thing before …… She had given him a thorough going-over. She had had Ka-Lan’s powers put to the test. Had got a slave-girl to get him full-hard, rising to the ceiling. Then she’d had one of her guards tug him around. Haul his cock over the coals. Ordered Ka-Lan to hold it in, the guard’s rough-mauling doing his best to force him to cum. Trying to break down his endurance. And get him rejected.
Ka-Lan had managed several times. It had been a rough-handling. He’d worried he might have failed when she finally gave the guard the nod. The guard really gave it to Ka-Lan. He went for it like mad ….. And vigorously jerked Ka-Lan off.
The bitch in her revealing top stood leaning against the table, close-up, observing, intently. Cold. Watching the strength of his blasts. Ka-Lan was sure she was counting them off. But he’d been sweating. That control .. keeping himself in .. that had been a close-run thing. Much more of that work-over .. he’d have burst. And what then? Stupid to feel proud of himself.
Then …..? He was intrigued what happened next. She’d left. Simply walked out. She shoved that pert arse of hers off the table-top and walked it temptingly out of the door. Without a word. Not a backward glance. Not a whiff of appreciation at his performance.
Puncturing his pride. Deflating his vanity at his studly show. Faster than his cock could go down. Reminding him. A sex-slave. It was what he did. An object. He didn’t count.
The guards took him next door, a bare room, just a large stone slab in the middle.
Told to “get his bare fucking-arse on there”.
He did as told. A gloomy unappealing place, cold, uninviting. This was it? Here comes the betrothed. Here? This was where he was going to do the business? Hardly somewhere for an intimate tryst. Not conducive to a tête-à-tête of passion. Bare rough rock under his arse. He’d had better times out in the stables with horses and manure.
But unperturbed the guards shoved his back flat down on stone .. and set about readying him. Getting him prepared, Ka-Lan assumed, for his first job. To earn his role. Gigolo to the betrothed.
If he had false ideas about his status in life .. he was soon put in the picture. If he had any doubts about where these guys’ loyalty lay, it didn’t take long. When he objected at his dick being yanked around, he got slapped.
They’d left the restraint on his root. Uncaring the guards now yanked it even tighter .. catching skin .. cutting off blood again.
“Steady on, fellas,” he’d objected. Dumbly thinking there might be some mutual understanding between men for the complexity of a male cock just recently depleted.
Dumb idea! There hadn’t been. He counted for nothing. A sharp slap across the face warned him otherwise. Unconcerned for his comfort the guards had already tied his ankles to the end of the stone. Brisk, efficient, practised. And Ka-Lan didn’t count-for-fuck.
“Shut it. Or I’ll gag it.”
The hand that had given him the still-stinging cheek pressed Ka-Lan’s head roughly back on the stone. Keeping him pinned down by a chokehold on his neck. Meanwhile the other started securing his hands, tying them safely down. What? No hands? He wasn’t supposed to touch? His slave-stinking maulers weren’t to soil the precious body of the betrothed? Some love-making scene this was going to be!
“This necessary ….?”
Ka-Lan’s answer came in a thump in his belly. Forming a single word. YES. A hard answer, unexpected. Thwacked down on his belly button. Robbing him of wind. The look on the guard’s face gave him his answer. And a warning. Any more dumb questions, arsehole?
Yeah. With these guards, …. no doubt where their loyalties lay ……