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By Tasha
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Another blow struck the quivering, naked buttocks and the young man lunged against the metal restrains holding him in place over a padded rail. His ass and thighs burned from the painful strokes which fell one immediately after another. His stomach felt cut into two by the rail. Blood pounded in his ears. His wrist cuffs were attached to his ankle causing his shoulders to ache and his leg muscles to spasm. Pleas, cries, and screams might stop the beating. They might not, too. The chained youth had learned that the education and the punishments of pleasure slaves stopped only when the trainers and masters decided and not when the slaves decided. The young man cried out with the next blow. The blows continued.

"You will learn to assume the proper attitude, Kerry," sneered a harsh voice. "Nod if you understand and will comply."

The blows continued. As much as his pride and his chains permitted, Kerry nodded.

The punishment stopped. Kerry labored to regain his composure, but he could not stop sobbing. Then rough hands fondled Kerry's ass. The fingers traced the criss-crossed welts causing more waves of pain. Tears seeped from under Kerry's eyelids. Quickly, the trainer repositioned the chained man's arms to behind his back. The wrist cuffs were fastened together and then locked to a short length of chain hanging from a metal slave collar. The trainer pulled the manacled youth to an upright position.

"That's right, boy toy. You stay quiet or you'll get more of the same."

Kerry's latest punishment had been the result of a cock-sucking training session. Kerry had rebelled when what seemed to be the twenty-third dick had been thrust in his face and he had been ordered to suck it.

Once Kerry was upright, the trainer blindfolded him and fastened a leash to the collar. Cautiously, Kerry followed the pull on this new chain. He was pushed down on his back onto a slick surface and the leash attached to a ring on the floor. He felt his cock being gripped by the rough hands as a lubricant and then something flexible was slipped into the pisshole. He involuntarily shuddered as he recognized a catheter being inserted into his bladder. The bound man sighed silently. He hoped that he would not, as was usually the case, have to beg for the catch on the rubber tube to be released and his bladder emptied. Unseen hands rolled him over onto his stomach and greasy fingers stretched his hole. A butt plug was pushed in and secured to a wide leather belt buckled around his waist. The leash was released and he was unceremoniously pulled to his feet. He could only imagine what he must look like. He was a filthy, naked, blindfolded, chained animal with a rubber tube dangling from his dick and his ass stretched by a butt plug.

Following the steady pull on the leash, he shuffled across the room. He stopped when he heard the command to stop. Hands on his shoulders forced Kerry to his knees and he was encouraged by bare-handed slaps to his sore buttocks to crawl toward a wire animal cage. Without the use of his hands and eyes, the bound man moved slowly earning more blows. At the cage's doorway, he waited motionlessly for the leash to be removed. From time already spent confined the very familiar cage, the slave knew that he would not be able to sit or stand comfortably. As best as he could, the youth settled himself into a fetal position. It might be minutes or hours before someone came to water, feed, or empty him. Behind the blindfold, the youth shed silent tears. He tried to comfort himself by remembering a better time in his life. Abruptly, however, his mind conjured up the images of his last hour of freedom.

* * *

"Good evening, Kerr," Sardon Avon greeted his nephew.

The silver-haired man gestured for the younger man to enter luxurious white ground car. One of Sardon's assistants was already seated on the rear-facing seat where Kerr was motioned to sit. A second assistant entered the car and sat to Kerr's left.

"I am glad that you were able to forego your studies this evening and dine with me," Sardon smiled and moved a brightly decorated box closer beside him. "Although it may have been years since I was a university student, I still remember how much time I spent at the computer terminal. Probably, I would have had to decline an invitation to dine this close to my final examinations." He turned to speak in the ground car's intercom. "Drive on."

"I find myself in the midst of a major crisis. And I do not know when I will have the freedom to celebrate both your upcoming twenty-first birthday and the end of your university career."

Kerr Avon settled back into the soft upholstery of the rear-facing seat. With his uncle's two minions sitting on either side of him there was not quite as much room as normally. Usually, the assistants sat up front with the driver.

"Good evening, Uncle," Kerr greeted his uncle courteously.

Although he had never particularly liked his uncle, Kerr respected Sardon's financial acumen. Instinctively, Kerr knew the older man was not one to be crossed in his business life or in his private life. Besides Sardon would be his guardian for only six more weeks.

The door of the ground car slid shut with a sigh as the door sealed close. The car slowly made its way out of the gates of the Technical University of Greater London.

"Uncle, the invitation to dine with you tonight was most welcomed. I just finished writing my last treatise when you called. Is there anything I can do to help you find a solution to your crisis?"

"There may be, but let us tonight forget my problems. We are here to celebrate your birthday and your graduation. Let us talk about happier subjects. Have you made plans for yourself after graduation?" The older man continued the conversation. "Have you considered joining the Banking Cartel?"

The conversation continued in much the same manner covering Kerr's studies and his future plans.

"Kerr, in order to maintain my position during this crisis, I have been forced to use your inheritance from your parents."

Kerr was stunned. His face reddened with anger.

"But my parents left the money for my education," interrupted the young man.

His inheritance had not been large, but if it were used judiciously, it would have put him through graduate school. He had planned for the remainder to set him up comfortably after leaving school. How was it possible that his uncle could have gotten his hands on his parents' money? His mother and father had hired one of London's finest solicitors to draw up the wills and trust. With his uncle/guardian's consent, Kerr could draw on his funds to pay for tuition and other essentials. On his twenty-first birthday, he was to gain control of the balance. From his own words, his uncle admitted that he had absconded with Kerr's inheritance. His dislike of the older man turned to hate.

"Kerr, shut up," the commissioner admonished his nephew in a deceptively gentle tone.

Kerr immediately understood that he had pushed his uncle just about as far as the man would allow. Kerr had always known that his uncle was a dangerous man. This was the first time that the younger Avon had challenged the older Avon in the three years that the commissioner had been his guardian. These last statements had set off Kerr Avon's temper. He might regret it later, but for the moment it felt good.

Then it slowly dawned on him that his twenty-first birthday was fast approaching. Soon he would have found the missing funds on his own and perhaps caused the scandal that his uncle was trying to avoid. Well, he could and would cause his uncle more grief than the commissioner could imagine.

Reaching into the gaily decorated box beside him, Sardon took out a set of handcuffs. While the assistants held Kerr's hands and arms, Sardon snapped the gleaming manacles onto Kerr's slender wrists. The other two men in the passenger section of the ground car had turned into Kerr's guards. Unsuccessfully, the younger Avon tried to fight his guards, his uncle, and his restraints.

"You can understand the necessity of these, Kerry." The commissioner leaned back into his seat to study the angry captive. "I find that I need more money and you are my one remaining asset of which I can easily dispose."

Kerry was the name his mother had called him during his childhood. On anyone else's lips but hers, the name was demeaning. Kerr added another reason to the list to hate his uncle. The younger Avon continued to struggle futilely to escape the guards' hold on him.

While one guard's fingers dug into Kerr's arm, the other knotted a scarf around the youth's neck. When Kerr lunged for his uncle's throat again, the guard countered by twisting the scarf. Kerr could only sit with tears brimming from anger--a smoldering anger that would never quite disappear.

Quietly the ground car had traveled from the Alpha district of the city to a Beta district. The luxurious car slid silently to a stoop before a dura-steel gate which opened after the driver inserted a small plastic card. The drive was a winding affair between hedge rows. Stopping in front of a duro-brick two-story building, the ground car settled to the pavement with a soft thump.

Kerr was pulled and pushed from the car by the two guards. Each grasping an arm, both men stood on either side of the cuffed man. One guard still held tightly the scarf in his fist. Sardon followed and stretched his stiffening back muscles. The door of the duro-brick structure slid open and a short, pudgy figure emerged.

"Aaah, Commissioner, it is so good to see you again," bowed the figure. Turning, he examined carefully the captive. "I presume that this is the merchandise you promised." The man walked around the captive. His blue eyes continued to move over the young man's body speculatively.

It finally dawned on Kerr that his uncle had more in mind for him than simply stealing his inheritance. He tried once again to pull away from the guards and attack Sardon.

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