The Attendant

In a world where gay men have been stripped away of their basic human rights through the "Attendant" status, Peter becomes a slave in his own household. Soon, his step-father and younger brother learn to take their roles of "Masters" very seriously.

This is a dark, authoritarian, dystopian fiction. It includes numerous elements of non-consensual BDSM, dom/sub practises and sex, including slavery, and rape, as well as incestuous relationships. The story does not, in any way, reflect the views or political opinions of the author.

If you know me through the "My First Year in College" story, this one will be very different both in tone and subject matter. You have been warned!

All characters are above 18 years old.

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The Attendant

Chapter 7: The Punishment.

I was drenched in spit, in beer, a few hairs from Mark's asshole were actually stuck on my left cheek, red spots covered my body where I had been hit by my brother and his friends. I was grabbing my brother's erect dick in my right hand and Mark Johnson was filling my mouth with his big balls when I heard my step-father storming behind me:

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?"

Mark seemed to shrunken at the view of the imposing Stephan Clarck, he frantically looked for his shorts to cover himself. My brother was livid, his dick still in my hand, he pulled it away quickly when he realized. Sam stood as far as possible from us.

"Dad, we..." Started my brother.

"What were you doing with my attendant?" Enquired my father, visibly struggling to maintain his composure.

"Sorry Mister Clarck, we were just asking the Attendant to do stuff and we got a bit carried away." Mark's voice had totally morphed, he sounded so weak, even innocent now. What a pathetic jerk.

The Commander's nephew hurried to put his sneakers back on his bare feet as if he were preparing to run away, he did not even try to find his socks.

"Sorry dad! Mark and Sam do not have an Attendant and they wanted..."

"I don't care about the Attendant, but the carpet is dirty and I thought you three were studying."

His words felt like a dagger going through my body, I was so relieved he had stopped the madness, but still, he was acting as my Owner, not my father.

"Sorry", said Sam, "We will take care of the carpet..."

"Non-sense, the Attendant will do but should not you all go back to your studying?"

"Yes, Mister Clarck, we will go back right at it." Said Mark.

"Yeah, let's go back upstairs guys." Settled my brother.

A few seconds later, they were hastily climbing up the stairs. I was slowly catching my breath.

"Dad, they did things to me. They humiliated me..."

"Shut up Attendant!" He slapped me but he took a step back when his hand touched my filthy face. "In case you have not noticed, we are not alone in this house!" He stared at his now dirty hand with disgust. He sniffed it.

"Go wash your face in the kitchen! It's sickening. I can smell those guys' dicks on you."

I went without a word. What was there to say? As I was putting water on my face trying to get rid of the precum, the saliva and the beer, I heard my father calling for my brother.

"Martin, come down, we need to have a quick talk."

When the three of us got back in the living room, dad checked to make sure that Mark and Sam were not in the staircase, he then closed the door and whispered angrily at my brother.

"Now, Martin, what the hell was that?"

"Sorry dad, but you said I should let Sam and Mark order Peter, (noticing our dad's angry face, my brother corrected himself), the Attendant, around. I had to let them do what they wanted!"

"Of course, you had to! But how... How did it degenerate into this non-sense?"

"They were just playing around, giving it crazy dares. But at some point, the Attendant refused to do one of them, and then, Mark said we should punish it!"

"WHAT?" My father turned back towards me, furious. "You refused to obey an order? In public?"

This was so unfair.

"What the fuck, Martin? You know that's not what happened!" I looked at my brother with so much resentment, I could have killed him with my eyes. "Dad, Owner, they were asking me to do crazy shit! And despite it was messed-up, I did them all!" I started crying. "I did all the gross things they asked! All of them! They made me bark like a fucking dog! They made me... No... I did not do anything wrong this time! I obeyed!"

"Would you please lower your voice, damn it, they are still here!"

After all it had taken from me to abide with the crazy requests, even this was taken away from me. I was livid.

But my brother was not done. Probably upset that I had contradicted him, he said:

"The Attendant was checking on Mark's dick, that's why he got mad! That's why it all degenerated!"

My father sighed, seemingly exasperated by my behaviour.

"I did not! I swear I did not check him out!" I shouted, desesperate.

My father grabbed me by the throat and put his big hand all over my mouth. He had never looked this mad. I thought he was about to kill me:

"WOULD - YOU -- SHUT -- THE - FUCK -- UP - ATTENDANT!?"

Even my brother was shocked by our father's reaction. I was turning red and suffocating under his grip. My Owner finally released me, I lost my balance and fell on the floor.

When the man I once considered as my father talked again, I was sobbing like a child:

"If I understand this correctly, in the end, you have acted as you were told Attendant. Maybe it's not that bad."

He paced around the living room, trying to gather his thoughts. "Those are just a couple of teenagers and maybe they won't be too proud to say they were flaunting their dicks off while they were supposed to be studying. I just need to ensure that when Mark Johnson goes home, he does tell to his dad and favourite uncle that the Clarck's Attendant was really obedient. Do you think that after this afternoon, he could say otherwise? Martin, I'm talking to you."

My younger brother looked terrified:

"I don't know what they could tell... I mean, yeah, maybe they'll say that it was not super obedient at first but overall, I think that they were impressed with what it was willing to do! The Attendant did end-up doing everything it was told."

"Hmmm... That does not sound too good. The Attendant should not be persuaded to do what it is told, it just should do it, right away." My step-father looked severely at me, he then sat in his armchair. "OK, I have a plan. We can still repair that mistake and make sure that they got the right message. Now, Martin, I want you to stay with them upstairs for, let's say, the next 30 minutes, afterwards, you can tell them that they need to go home. At that time, I will be taking care of the Attendant..."

"But dad... Owner..." I don't know why I kept trying.

"Shut up Attendant! Martin is this clear? Do not tell them I was mad or that we discussed the Attendant's matter. Just say that I wanted to check if everything was ok. Then, you'll come downstairs with your two friends in about thirty minutes and we'll give them something to talk about to their families."

"Ok Dad. Thank you."

Martin ran up the stairs again.

The plan of my father was not very clear but, as always, it did not look very good for me. I looked at him apprehensively.

"Listen to me Attendant. Listen to me carefully. The next half-hour is going to be painful for you but it is imperative that you take it, and take it without flinching. If one of these fuckers babble out that we were too lax with our disobedient and pervert Attendant, this is the end of it! The end of your comfort, the end of your afternoon jack-off sessions in my bed, the end of your time in this house! And I'm telling you, before the guards or inspectors show off at our door to take you away from me, to give you back to the State, I will sell you out, to the best offer, there are a lot of families interested in getting you. I heard that your dick and ass are getting quite some recognition in the state of Ohio thanks to General Thompson."

My mind was a blur, I was still trying to comprehend how this whole thing could have turned against me when I had pushed all of my limits to make sure my brother's sick mates, and then my father, would be satisfied.

"Attendant. Am I clear?"

"I..." I tried but could not formulate a sentence. I was too stunt to talk.

My step-father lost his patience, and his temper, once again:

"Look, I'll make this simple. You have a choice: accepting your punishment now, or being sold out to a way less compassionate household."

The violence of this sentence helped me coming back to my senses. No. I refused this ultimatum. That was too unfair. I was not in the wrong here. Not this time.

"But Owner, I have not done anything wrong, I..."

"Attendant!" He stood up, he was very intimating.

"Please... Owner... Do not punish me, I promise you, I did not do anything wrong... I obeyed... I tried to obey..."

He exploded:

"FUCK ATTENDANT! YOU WANT ME SELL YOU OUT LIKE A VULGAR PIECE OF TRASH? IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT? WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO IF MY ATTENDANT CANNOT EVEN CONTROL ITSELF AND CHECK TEENAGE BOYS OUT!"

"I did not check anyone's out... I swear..."

"TELL ME, ATTENDANT. DO YOU WANT ME TO SELL YOU OUT TO GENERAL THOMPSON?"

"No... no... please..."

"WILL YOU TAKE YOUR PUNISHMENT?"

Terrified, I nodded.

"I WANT YOU TO SAY IT."

"Yes, Owner, I will take the punishment." I whispered.

Once again, my father had won. I should have known it by then, he would always win.

"Lie down on the dinner table, on your front." He ordered drily.

Shakingly and without another word, I positioned my naked and already sore body on the marble table.

Lying there, I was no longer afraid. I was no longer ashamed. I was just numb. Because I could not comprehend or accept what was happening, my brain shut down completely and it decided not to think at all.

I barely heard my dad coming back in the room, holding the metal box from the garage.

He started by tying up my hands and feet to the table with tight ropes so I could not move. My legs were spread. My ass had never been this exposed. I closed my eyes, my nose hurt against the luxurious table.

I heard my father open the door of the living room to make sure everyone could enjoy the show and then, the punishment began.

First, it was the paddle, right on my bare ass. The first hit was painful, so much more painful than the usual slaps, the other ten were unbearable.

"Attendant, you will learn how to respect the Men in this house!"

"Yes, Owner." I cried out. "Please stop."

He did not stop. He moved to the swift, the thongs were slashing me. The paddle made me regret the slaps, and the swift made me regret the paddle.

"If this is what I have to do for you to understand your place in this household, I will do it! Until the lesson is well anchored within you!"

It was anchored. There was no need for this torture.

"I understand Owner, I understand I have to obey. Please stop. I will behave." I begged and begged again.

But he moved on to the whip. He was not too good with it, half of the time, he missed my ass and he hurt my thighs or my back instead. But maybe those were not mistakes. When he hit my balls once, I screamed in pain. It was the worst thing I had ever experienced in my life.

"That might help you understand the consequences of your actions!"

The torture continued but I could not say what he did next or how long it lasted, I mostly blacked out. I still can hear him though. I will never forget this.

"THIS IS FOR THE DICKS YOU COULD NOT HELP YOURSELF FROM STARING AT!"

"THIS IS FOR GRABING YOUR BROTHER'S COCK, YOU DISGUSTING FAG!"

"THIS IS FOR PUTTING ALL OF US IN THIS MESS!"

This was not only a show. The frustration that my dad had felt for weeks was pouring uncontrollably out of him. At some point, my brother's friends must have had left the house but I do not remember that. I do remember my brother trying to stop my father but he got so carried away, he could no longer stop. At times, he seemed to enjoy it.

"Dad, they're gone! Dad! You can stop now!"

"THIS IS FOR YOUR MOTHER! IF ONLY SHE COULD SEE YOU LIKE THIS, ALWAYS NAKED, ALWAYS CHECKING ON OTHER MEN, SUCKING THEIR BALLS! SHE WOULD BE HORRIFIED!"

"Dad! Please stop! He had enough!" I was done with my begging but Martin was pleading on my behalf now, I heard the panic in his voice.

"THIS IS FOR THE SHAME YOU BROUGHT TO MY NAME! THE NAME I ACCEPTED TO GIVE TO YOU WHILE YOU WERE NOT EVEN MY SON!"

"DAD! STOP! YOU ARE GOING TO KILL HIM!"

Finally, those words made him stop, my father left his tools there and left without a word.

Martin untied me; I did not want to accept his help, but I did not manage to get down the table without his assistance. My back, ass and thighs were covered in bruises. My left ass cheek was purple. At least, he did not hit my face or break my teeth, I thought sombrely, remembering the Attendant who had burnt down the house of his masters. I understood him now.

My brother whispered things to me but I could not hear him. I painfully climbed up the stairs and lied down on my mattress. I passed out seconds after I hit the mattress but woke up in the middle of the night. My entire body was sore.

The next day was my lowest point thus far. Everything hurt, but again, the pain I was feeling inside was much worse than the rest. For the first time, I seriously considered leaving. Sure, I would be treated the same way, maybe worse elsewhere, but at least, it would not be my father beating me up.

I did not go downstairs to prepare the breakfast and they did not call for me. I spent the day without eating or even drinking anything, alone in "my" room. I thought a lot about my mother.

After coming back from school, Martin came to check on me. He looked exhausted as well.

"Pete. Are you ok?" He whispered softly, caressing my hair, he was so gentle now. "Mark and Sam were telling everyone at school what happened. It worked Pete. Everyone believes you are treated like an actual Attendant. I know it has been tough, I talked to dad, I told him he had gone too far. He will calm down now. If this is of any help, know that it worked!"

I did not reply. How could my brother not realize that he, himself, had gone too far? Making me eat his friend's asshole, making me touch his dick.

Only later that night, when I was sure they were both asleep, I went to grab something to eat in the kitchen. I broke down there, sobbing quietly.

Again, I foolishly thought about running away. I was naked but I could go to my brother's room, take some of his clothes. He would probably wake up but I would just run for it. I knew where the car keys were. But where would I go? I would certainly be happier as a homeless man wandering in the streets rather than staying in this house, but nowadays, homeless people were chased down by the State. They were much more useful on the battlefields. I would be caught right away. I was registered as an Attendant and my escape would be a serious crime punishable by death.

There was another thing too: despite everything, what retained me was not the fear of my own death but the fear of the consequences for my family. What would happen to them if I ran away?

I hated myself for it but I could not bring myself to betray my brother and step-father. Despite all they did to me, I still managed to find excuses for them: it was a crazy moment; my step-father had lost his mind temporarely. They loved me... right?

Truth is: they were all I had left and I desperately wanted them to care for me, or at least, acknowledge me.

The next day, I waited for them in the kitchen, kneeling down. They seemed surprise to see me there. I was surprised to see me there too. In the morning, not knowing what to do, I just took back the role assigned to me by the Law.

"Good morning, Attendant" said my step-father entering the kitchen in his robe. That was uncommon to greet an Attendant. What an honor.

I did not respond. I turned around to grab some orange juices I could propose to him. My real intent was for him to see my back and my ass, bruised. This had the effect I wanted, he seemed uncomfortable.

"Look Attendant, about the other night..."

He could not end his sentence. I hoped he felt deep shame.

"Yes Owner, what about the other night?"

"I..." He took a bite of the pancakes I had prepared. "I think we need to capitalize on this."

That must be a new way of forming an apology, I thought.

"Capitalize on... my punishment?"

"Yes Attendant."

What did he have in mind? I came to hate every new plan my step-father was coming up with.

"Tonight, Martin and I are invited at General Thompson's house."

"I WON'T GO THERE!" I shouted immediately. "No, not this perv again!"

"This is not what I had in mind Attendant. People in town have heard about what happened a couple of day ago. We thought we needed to convince Mark but actually, the young Sam was way more helpful, he was very shocked, or rather impressed, by the way we were punishing our Attendant and he talked about it, a lot. Someone came to me at work after hearing the rumours."

I listened to him but did not react. What was he expecting? A thank you?

"Attendant, that is great news! That means that we might get any suspicion away from us. Now, I think we need to confirm that the rumours are true."

"Another round of whipping then? This time, in the middle of the streets?" I just could not help myself from being insolent. At the same time, I regretted formalizing that thought immediately, this could give him ideas. But for once, my Owner did not scold me or slap me.

"You will go to the store today."

"To show off my bruises?" I said sombrely.

"Precisely." He marked a pause. "Will you?"

"Of course. This is a command from my Owner, I cannot say no or I might be punished."

I remembered the time when I was wondering if my father noted some sarcasms in my tone, but now, I was myself wondering if I was sarcastic or not. The "play pretend" had totally been blurred out with actual life.

"Fine then, this is settled. Go wake my son up."

Martin was still his son but I no longer was.

I knocked at my (former?) brother's door, he seemed relieved to see me standing up, or maybe he was relieved I was back at his service. He had his usual morning wood. I took a look at it, I still could not believe I had jerked off his dick.

"Attendant. Are you ok?" He asked politely.

"I am Sir. Why should I not be?"

"No... no reason."

"Breakfast is ready Sir and I know you have an evening out tonight, should I iron some clothes for you?"

He was unsettled but play his part:

"Yes Attendant. My blue suit."

I did not exchange another word with my brother or father that day and went to the store a few hours later while they were off at work or at school.

I did not run into Nathan or Juliet. Good, I thought, I did not want to explain the origin of my scars. To be honest, I was ashamed of what I had allowed my family to do to me.

I was not trying to show off but concerned looks did follow me around. This was not surprising to see an Attendant with some bruises, but the image remained shocking to those who had not fully committed to the new system. At least, the whole town would know about my punishment. The sadistic guard who had made me lick his boots once looked rather satisfied to see me in this state, I could have sworn he grabbed his cock while checking at my thighs and ass.

Because my brother and father were at General Thompson that night, I spent some time taking care of my body. I had found some creams at the store, it helped. I watched tv, even if it was mostly propaganda for President Ganderson's fantastic work at the head of the state, it was still something. When I heard my father's car in the driveway, I ran up to my room to avoid him.