Breaking Drake Ch. 10

*** Author's note. This intro to this chapter is mostly story building. This is so that the powers Raell and future character have makes sense. I am limiting the background information, but if you want more information, message me. Thanks!***

Drake stayed curled up, sobbing softly, for a few more minutes. He was filled with self-pity, wishing to have his old life back, wishing to not have to eat and drink like an animal, wishing he could just wear some clothes. He'd never thought he would miss the everyday things that makes up a person's life. All the things taken for granted, like showers, pillows, and cereal. Even the memory of the apple Mistress Raell had given him a few days ago seemed like years ago.

As the crying started to slow, and the pity began to fade, Drake's thoughts instead turned to rebellion. Sadness faded back into anger. He knew he had to hide it now, as he remembered the incident with the blonde boy. He couldn't vocalize his attitude, but he could show it. When they said fifty pushups, he'd do forty nine. When they said eat like a dog, he'd eat like a dog, then lick his fingers. He'd keep the rebellions too small to notice, but enough to keep him from breaking.

Satisfied that he'd never crumple to the whims of the trainers and Mistress Raell, Drake curled up in the sand, shifting it around so that he was comfortable. His stomach grumbled, reminding him of the meal his missed. "Breakfast" was his last thought before he passed out.

The next morning started weeks of training and conditioning. He'd be woken up by the slaves dumping breakfast in. He'd eat the goo, using his hands whenever he got the chance. Whenever he was caught, he was caned. He often looked like a zebra.

After breakfast, the trainers would march each pen into the main arena training pen, where they were ordered into positions until it became second nature to do the commands. Drake attempted to rebel by not doing the positions right, and found out that the trainers kept track of the small errors, and if a slave was suspected of intentionally screwing up, the slave was posted for a day. Drake acquired a nice tan, if the white stripes where his harness and cuffs blocked the

sun were ignored.

Lunch was given in the training pen. Drake didn't try to use his hands here, as there were too many slaves who might not look the other way like the slaves in his pen did. He wasn't afraid of the punishment (more caning) but since he usually was spotted and caned at breakfast, he wanted to eat at least one meal.

After lunch came conditioning. Drake kept up his routine of not doing the set number of pushups, crunches, or whatever thing the trainers called out. At first this was because he could not do them physically, but as weeks passed he bulked up and could do them easily. Whenever it was discovered that he wasn't doing correct number,

the trainers would tie a rope around his dick and balls, throw it over a ceiling beam, and tie the other end to a weight. Drake could either hold up the weight, or have his junk stretched out. His shoulders and chest bulked out pretty quickly, and the trainers kept adding more weight so he would have to struggle to hold it.

Conditioning was followed by showers, which unlike his first shower as a slave, were done as a group. Slaves lined up on either side of a chain link fence that split the shower room in half, lengthwise, and would walk the full length of the room. The fence "posts" were actually shower heads, which blasted down soapy water, then clean water with a healing lotion added in. Drake asked a fellow slave about it after his first shower, marveling in how his sunburn had vanished.

The sparking clean slaves were then lead to the pits, where they were to relieve themselves. That was the only time the buttplugs ever came out. The pens rotated on cleaning out the pits. Whenever it was his pen's turn, Drake and slaves were forced down into the pit- it was an actual pit- and were given shovels and carts. Some of the slaves were hooked up to the carts, while the rest shoveled the mix of shit, piss, and dirt into the carts, which were pulled to farrow fields, to help the earth regenerate. Fresh dirt was then shoveled in, so that the pits never got much deeper.

Dinner was the same as the other two meals- dog food like goop. Occasionally the trainers would toss in bread and laugh as the slaves fought over it. Drake never participated, knowing he'd just be entertaining the trainers. He would eat with his hands when he could, but found that the trainers were more active in the evenings than the mornings, so he usually was caught and caned.

And so the weeks went by.

Drake learned that each pen had around twenty five slaves, and that each pen spent about a month and half in the training pens. After that, some slaves were given "jobs" around Mistress Raell's property. A slave could end up in the barns pulling a plow and tending to the crops, be put in the main house as a household slave, or be sent to one of the different animal farms Raell had. The leftover slaves were sold at auction.

"Auction? Who the hell still buys slaves nowadays?" He recalls asking.

As it turns out, not only a quite a few humans on Earth bought slaves, but nearly all slaves were sold to "aliens." He learned at the aliens were not really aliens in the sense of green men from Mars. Instead, they were from different dimensions, which were similar to a stack of paper- stacked on top of each other. There were said to be nine different dimensions. Each dimension had its own universe, with its own species. Mistress Raell, a "dragon," was from the first dimension. Then were the "demons" which were known as the black dragons, share similar but fewer powers with the dragons. The next three dimensions contained the "light" dimension, the "shadow" dimension, and the human dimension. The last four dimensions had names Drake couldn't even pronounce.

All the trainers he had met so far were human, Drake learned.

Occasionally he spotted a person walking by with colorful wings, or donkey-like ears, but that was all the contact he had. Mistress Raell did not come back after the night he had been harnessed,and he thought she might not ever come back at all.

Drake groaned as he shifted his position on the sandy floor. The trainers had taken to bursting in at random times of the night to do "pop quiz" training sessions. The slaves would be half asleep, but if they didn't get into the correct position they would be beaten. He'd just fallen asleep when they'd busted in, screaming out order.

God, he was tired.

He thought back on how he'd gotten used to this life. He didn't know what day it was, or how long he'd been here... He measured his days in beatings and events. Every two weeks they upgraded his butt plug to a larger size. Almost once a week Zack, James, and Austin collected a new fuck toy, and would usually put on a show. He was surprised they hadn't picked him yet. He always saw Zack eyeing him. Every month they brought in a new set of slaves and took out the oldest set. Occasionally they were fed slop food instead of the goo- scraps from the huge parties Mistress Raell threw. He could hear the music thumping all the way out here.

Drake figured his group had to be reaching the end of their time here. They were simply drilling now, reinforcing the training so it was automatic. He didn't even have to think about placing his hands behind his back, or how low he had to bow, for it was ingrained in him to do it.

Rebelling was getting more and more difficult, as the training was starting to override his will. He did not fear the whip- he feared turning into one of the mindless drones he saw leaving Zack's barracks, so broken that they couldn't even function without someone telling them what to do.

Drake shifted again, determined to get some sleep. He'd eat using his hands tomorrow, beating or not.

THUD.

Drake shot awake, staring frantically at the gate. Around him, the other slaves did the same.

However, nobody was busting in, and it was still pretty early morning.

THUD.

This time he felt the ground shake slightly. Earthquake? He wondered for a second.

THUD.

This time a blast of air hit him, and he looked around, wondering what the hell was going on.

THUD.

THUD.

THUD.

Drake turned, watching as a massive silver beast landed on its hind legs, muscles rippling as they absorbed the shock. Its head was as big as two SUVs together, and he guessed the body from nose to tail was probably as long as a football field. The wings alone could have stretched twice that length. Drake swallowed. "Now THAT'S a dragon." He whispered to himself.

The huge beast seemed to shimmer than shrink, and Mistress Raell stood in its place. Every slave was frozen, staring at her. She turned to look at them, and their training kicked in. Drake collapsed to the ground, feet tucked under ass, forehead pressed to the ground, arms positioned so elbows touched knees and hands were pressed against the ground on either side of his face.

Raell grinned. She loved flying, and nothing beat being in her true form and soaring over her massive property. The terror she felt in the slaves when they spotted her was an added bonus. She gazed across the pens, noting the perfect bows of the oldest slave group, and the slightly imperfect bows of the newest.

"Raell! God damn I thought you were going to blow the whole place over. How can we help you?" Jess said, walking up. The other trainers stood behind her, smiling as they looked over at the pens.

"Well, now we know the training worked." Zack said, laughing softly.

Raell smiled at him. She turned to Jess.

"I'm here to pick up one of the slaves leaving today. He's ready to start the next round of training, I've decided."

Jess gave her a questioning look, then remembered.

"The brunette? 733? I thought you had given up on him."

"Nope, just wanted him to think that. Can't have any of these guys thinking they are special."

Jess nodded. It made sense. Give a slave any ideas and they'd never behave.

"He's trouble though. Always eating with his hands, or not doing the conditioning right, or whatnot."

Raell nodded.

"I know. He needs a reason to serve. All we have shown him are the painful reasons why he should obey. Stage two will show him that submission is in his DNA."

She turned as two large caged wagons rolled up. One would head to the barn, while the other would go to the auction square in town. The trainers collected clamp collars and shock spears, and moved to the oldest group of slaves.

Drake listened as the trainers and Mistress Raell approached. So today was the day. He smiled, praying he was going to the auction house. Maybe he'd be sold to a human master on Earth. He'd escape, and go home, and this whole nightmare would be over.

"Relax." Came the command, and the slaves warily got up, watching Raell out of the corner of their eyes. None of them had ever seen her punish a slave, but the rumors of her wrath were greatly exaggerated and her appearance in her dragon form hadn't helped.

The gates were opened, and trainers started clamp collaring slaves, who would be tossed in one of the two wagons as Raell directed. The wagons were split almost half and half, and Drake couldn't see a pattern to who she chose to keep and who she didn't.

Finally, Drake felt the collar clamp around his neck. Mistress Raell smiled at him, and he smiled back. He was determined to not show fear. He did feel dread fill his stomach as his hands and feet were cuffed together. None of the other slaves had been cuffed before going into the wagons. The wagon doors were shut and locked, and Drake started freaking out as he was lead out of the arena. He could clearly see the massive gouged marks from Mistress Raell's claws where she had landed.

The sun suddenly seemed to go out, and Drake was cloaked in shadow. He turned- as well as he could with bound feet- and stared at the massive maw of the dragon. The teeth were ivory white, and slightly serrated in the back. Each was almost as long as his forearm. That was a smile he couldn't return.

The dragon reared back, and grasped him in one scaly paw. Drake screamed as she took off, each wingbeat creating a powerful burst of wind. He was soon staring down at a shrinking barn, still screaming. The dragon roared, and he could sense her happiness. He was sure she was going to eat him.

Raell bellowed, loving the feeling of her wings catching the warm air, carrying her even higher. Her leathery wings thrummed against the pressure, and she dove.

Drake's voice broke as the beast seemed to just drop out of the air. The ground rapidly approached, and at the last second she whipped her wings out and shot back up into the sky. Drake clenched the claws holding him tight, and realized that she wasn't going to drop him. He laughed softly, then bellowed as she barrel rolled.

Raell smiled, hearing the slave's screams turn from ones of terror to ones of joy. "See?" She whispered mentally to herself. "It's not all bad being a slave." She corkscrewed, then leveled out. Turning her massive head to look at the slave, she winked.

Drake stared as the huge head curved to look at him. "So I'm actually just an inflight meal?" He thought.

He gazed at the huge silver eye, then blinked as it snicked close, winking at him. A rough hum filled the air, and Drake realized she was laughing.

She flew for a few more minutes, before circling down. She swooped down in front of her massive mansion, wings straining to slow her down. She landed with a thump on her hind legs, before half hopping forward to avoid crushing Drake under her paw. She released him, and Drake fell over. Once again she returned to her human form.

"Welcome home, Mistress Raell!"

Drake turned to see two slaves walking over, heads bowed. They wore different harnesses than he did, with more straps and silver filigree on the straps. They also had different dragon brands Drake realized, looking closer.

One of the slaves- a stocky black haired white guy- gave Drake an evil eye, and Drake was surprised by the jealousy that flickered across his face. The other, a shorter blonde, bounced in place, obviously happy his mistress had returned.

Raell turned to the blonde.

"Put this one in one of the holding cells. I will deal with him later."

She strode into the house, leaving the two slaves behind. The blonde turned to Drake, giving him a curious look. The black haired slave scowled.

"Do you have a name, or just a number?" The blonde asked.

"Drake."

"Welcome to Dragon Manor. I'm Aubrey, and this is Slade."

Slade sneered at Drake, turning and following his mistress. Aubrey just smiled softly, then bent to unclip Drake's leg cuffs. He did not unclip Drake's arms. He indicated that Drake should follow. Drake complied, curious about what the mansion was like.

He gasped as the cold air inside hit his bare skin. The dark stained wood and cream interior was decorated with leafy plants, marble carvings of wondrous animals, and various other items of worth. Two winding staircases swept up on each side, and Drake eyed the huge windows with sunlight pouring in.

A soft moan caught Drake's attention, and he turned. He stared at a nude slave, who wore not even the harness, tied to a short post. Drake realized that he was part of a matched set on either side of the door, tied by their wrists. He stared at the swirling scars cut decoratively into their skin, remembering the feeling of the whip and shards slicing through his own flesh.

He kept following Aubrey, walking past other slaves on display in various positions and lighting. Cages, frames, and racks decorated the corners and walls, some holding slaves, other bare. They went down a floor, passing a massive kitchen and various other rooms. Aubrey stopped in front a door at the end of the hall.

Opening the door, Aubrey led Drake in. Drake stared at the massive room, at the rows of cages, the instruments, the wall of paddles and whips.

"This is the Punishment Room, or PR. Disobedient slaves, slave in training, and slaves the Mistress wishes to have a bit of fun with come here."

Aubrey guided Drake to one of the cells that ran along the side wall. He unclipped Drake's wrist before leaving, the door locking behind him. Drake sat down on the padded floor, marveling at how great it felt compared to the sand floors. He sat waiting for Mistress Raell, but soon felt drowsy, the cushion making him tired.

Raell strode into the PR, gazing around the room. Each slave looked down upon her entrance, terrified of facing her wrath in their shortcomings. Raell ignored the lot, instead turning to the cells, where she could see her newest pet curled up, asleep.

WHAM!

Drake woke up with a snort, and catching sight of Mistress Raell he immediately bowed down. She held a cane in her hand, undoubtedly what she's whacked against the cell bars to wake him up.

"Stand. I want to see what two months have done to you."

Drake obeyed, standing up with hands behind back, his feet spread shoulder width apart, head straight. Mistress Raell opened the cell and walked in, circling him. Drake flinched as she ran a hand down his back, around his side, and up his belly.

Raell smiled to herself. Two months of physical looked good on the slave. She recalled the tones but not buff boy from before, and compared his to the man before her. He was now muscled, but not overly so. She wanted no body builders serving her directly. Each muscle was clearly defined, and she could feel them ripple under her hand. She slide her hand up to his face, before sliding it over his mouth.

"Open."

Drake blinked. He slightly opened his mouth, and recoiled as Mistress Raell slid her hand into it.

SMACK!

Drake's eyes watered as her blow connected to his jaw.

"Did I say you could move, slave?"

"No, Mistress."

"I thought not. Now stand, open your fucking mouth, and stay still!"

"Yes, Mistress."

Drake felt the need to resist as once again the hand slid into his mouth. She kept her hand there as she ran the other one over him, pinching at different muscles and poking at sensitive spots.

Drake trembled as he tried not to move or gag on her hand, knowing either would spell punishment.

Raell enjoyed placing a hand into the mouths of her slaves, knowing that it was humiliating for them to have to put up with it. She placed the thumb of her hand under his jaw, and led him out using his bottom jaw.

Drake groaned as Mistress Raell dragged him from the cell. She walked him over to a small square platform and ordered him to stand. Drake felt a shock of surprise as she undid his harness.

"Do not allow that plug to come out."

Drake tightened his ass as the Y-strap was undone. Mistress Raell stepped back, gazing upon him. He flexed lightly, hoping that if she liked what she saw, she'd keep him here at the mansion, where he could sleep on cushion instead of sand. As he did, his ass muscles loosened, and the butt plug slipped out.

THUNK!

Drake's heart plummeted. Mistress Raell glared at him.

"Mistress! I'm so sorry, I did not mean-"

"Excuses?! Fix your error, slave!"

Drake stared at her, confused.

"Am I not clear? Apparently not. Let me teach you."

She grabbed Drake's collar, and brought him over to an area that looked like a shower room, but it was open and had a device attached to the shower head. Mistress Raell clipped his hands to the wall so that he faced the tile, and grabbing a length of rope, she looked it around his balls and stretched them out, tying them tight behind him. This forced Drake to stick his ass out, or risk castrating himself.

"Hold this in, slave."

Drake yelped as Mistress Raell shoved a small plug in his ass, and then started struggling as warm water began to fill his bowels. He moaned as he began to cramp, the water filling him up.