Date: Wed, 27 Sep 2006 16:24:35 GMT
From: "anonymous4371@juno.com" <anonymous4371@juno.com>
Subject: BARTHOLOMEW & SMITH, PC (Authoritarian)

     Jake Bartholomew had been dead for five years now, but I kept his name
in the title to honor our long term partnership. The firm had been in the
slave business for over 30 years now and, over the years, both Jake and I
had learned all the pitfalls of dealing in slaves but, overall, had also
enjoyed all the profits to be made once you got the hang of it.

     Jake had died of a heart attack in his fiftieth year, already a
millionaire many times over.  He had no family, just a big mansion full of
good-looking slaves at his disposal.  It was those house slaves that did
him in, actually, in that he suffered the fatal attack fucking his third
slave that night - a feat that would do a lot of men his age in if you
aren't careful and slow down a bit.  But, probably because he had no wife
and kids, he left everything to me, his long-time business partner.  The
windfall came as a surprise to me.

     First, he knew I didn't need the money.  Second, I thought he would
leave his estate to some of the charities he favored and which he had been
very generous to while he was alive, e.g., the "Make a Dream Come True"
Foundation, which gave slaves away to worthy chaps that were so down and
out for one reason or another they could never hope to have enough money to
purchase a slave themselves, or the "Slave Availability Society" which
subsidized slave dealers in towns and villages so small they couldn't
support an outlet of their own.

     I wasn't as enamored with those non-profits as he was and never gave
them a dime of his money.  The "Make a Dream" group all too often put
slaves into situations where they couldn't be supported over the long haul
and most of them eventually died of diseases caused by malnutrition or
neglect.  Furthermore, those receiving the "Dream" used their slaves
incessantly as if to make up for years of not having them available and a
lot died of overuse, literally fucked to death within a year or so of the
"Dream" becoming reality.  The "Slave Availability Society" simply propped
up poor business practices.  While it was true that slave dealers in small
towns were dying out (similar to car dealers), there was a reason for that.
First, people could now easily travel to a city to purchase where they had
a wide variety to choose from and lower prices due to higher volume.
Second, some of the smaller dealers, in order to make a decent living, were
now dealing in illegal slaves (those kidnapped with no papers, stolen
slaves, illegal immigrants rounded up by renegade slave catchers, and
children of destitute parents who had sold their own children to the
scoundrels) thereby giving slaves dealers a bad name in general. In my
view, the "Society" was doing a lot more harm than good, although they
argued they made it possible for a little old lady who couldn't drive to
buy some household help with little trouble.

     Thinking it over, I thought if Jake were still alive, he'd want me to
plow his money into the business we had spent a lifetime developing.
That's just what I did.  Within a year after his death, the company offered
twice the inventory, the quality was higher overall, and we had three times
as many branch offices as we had before.

     We now even offered a "franchise" opportunity where you could open up
a full-service branch office with your own capital and have full access to
our entire inventory, all by paying a rather stiff monthly fee in return
for our name, our advertising, our reputation, and, most of all, the
privilege of being able to tap into our thousands and thousands of stock on
hand.  This latter feature of the franchise was the kicker - customers
wanted a huge choice - and only a huge inventory could meet those demands,
especially since the internet made possible instant pictures and specs of
all inventory within seconds.  Hence a person in the most remote spot in
Wyoming had about the same choice as a resident in New York City if he or
she didn't mind paying some modest shipping costs.  You want an 18-year-old
blond boy, heavily muscled, with long hair, green eyes, a 10" circumcised
prick, flawless tanned skin, and quick to learn?  Or a jet-black boy 6'5"
with a 48" chest, a 30" waist, 32" hips, 18" neck, big succulent nipples, a
12 x 6" super-dick that easily aroused and has real staying power, and who
can read, write, and do at least simple arithmetic so he can do your
shopping?  No problem - we have them in stock and can get them out to that
remote Ranch by Federal Express within two days.  And you can put your
purchase on any major credit card. Furthermore, your purchase will have a
30-day limited guarantee or your money back, along with all transportation
charges.  It's hard to compete with that, and most franchisees realized it
- we had so many applicants, we could pick and choose among them to insure
they would meet all our standards once they were set up and in operation.

     It was the franchising that made us a household name throughout the
U.S., Mexico, Canada, and Great Britain, although we are considering
branching out, even as I write this, to 56 other countries that have
expressed great interest and where slavery is well established and
thriving. So far, our statistical projections tell us that opening a
franchised branch in Saudi Arabia (financed by a member of the royal family
who was most eager to invest) would increase our business 14% with just
that one additional country since we would be offering mainly American
stock that is so popular there.  Opening up a franchised outlet in Mexico
City would be profitable within three months, especially since most of the
stock offered would be Mexican themselves, strongly preferred by local
buyers who tended to like their slaves brown, Catholic, and Spanish
speaking.

     But even without franchising, we were growing leaps and bounds with
new company- owned dealerships.  For example, buying up cheap Polish slaves
and selling them (after several months of rigorous training) in a new chain
in Brazil (mainly centered in Rio), would pay for itself within 18 months
according to our projections, despite the costs of building the showrooms
and holding pens, the transportation and training costs, the sales staff,
etc. Rich Brazilians couldn't seem to get enough of the gleaming white,
muscular bodies from Eastern Europe we were offering.  A new company-owned
outlet in Dubai pushing blacks from Zaire at prices so low a good cow cost
more was racking in unbelievable profits and the supply from Zaire and its
neighboring countries seemed bottomless. The blacks were primarily bought
up by construction companies who liked to keep their labor costs down,
although the prettier ones brought a little bit more and ended up in Dubai
restaurants and hotels as the backbone of their staff.  For value, slaves
from central Africa couldn't be beat: they cost little to start with; were
sturdy enough to be worked 15 hours a day 7 days a week year after year as
long as you fed them well; and they were easy to manage since most of them
considered their lives better now than they had ever been in that they were
no long hungry all the time, had a place to sleep, and weren't scared of
being slaughtered in the next political coup.

     My special expertise was in stocking brothels.  I always thought of
that as a special mission in life because most people, in reality, couldn't
own a slave themselves - slaves were simply too expensive if there was any
life in them at all.  Therefore, most people never enjoyed one of the
biggest benefits of slavery worldwide - having a nice body to sexually
pleasure you whenever you wanted.  That still remained a privilege only the
rich enjoyed.  But brothels open to the public meant the middle class still
had ready and frequent access to slaves for their sexual pleasure. Even the
poor could enjoy it, although they usually had to save up for it over time
or win it in a lottery (increasingly, a free visit to a slave brothel was
the top draw in any raffle sold to the poor).

     Brothels had dramatically increased with the reintroduction of
slavery, it being a natural growth industry in that there was no problem in
keeping the brothels well stocked now, the goods offered could be much
improved with so many slaves to choose from in stocking them; and the cost
could be lowered to where anyone could afford them due to the low cost of
slaves in general.

     My first venture with Jake into the slave business was just that -
buying up some slaves for local brothel owners, eager to replace their
aging, troublesome (most were drug addicts or worse), and often diseased
stock with something fresh, sexually appealing, and cheap.  Furthermore,
slaves were the ideal choice for a brothel: they had no choice in the
matter of whoring themselves; they had no right of choosing or rejecting
customers; they could be worked incessantly; and they could be easily and
cheaply replaced as soon as they lost their appeal or simply wore
out. Brothel owners soon discovered even their discarded slaves had a good
resale market: lots of middle class people wanted a well-trained,
experienced slave for their own bed if they could get them cheap enough.
Used slaves previous owned by the brothels were accustomed to doing
anything demanded of them both in and out of bed and made an obvious choice
for such buyers.

     Jake hunted the markets for new stock for the brothels - those that
needed considerable training, but who had the goods and sexual equipment to
prove appealing in about any circumstance.  I worked the other end of the
market: taking their trade-ins and peddling them to private ownership
within the middle class, often first-time slave owners.

     My first adventure in this area was when a most pleasant black man
came into our dealership asking if we had anything he could afford, perhaps
"a former brothel slave getting a little gray hair or whose a little slow
anymore in getting it up," he stated with a tinkle in his eyes.  "I'm
afraid that's about all I can afford but I thought maybe some of their
'worn-out' goods might be priced at something I could afford.  Anything is
better than what I've got now," he snickered, looking down at his right
hand somewhat sheepishly.  "Doesn't even have to be black - any color will
do.  I know you can't be picky when you don't have any money."

     I sympathized with the man at once, trying to imagine what it would be
like without a slave around to give you a little pleasure now and then.

     "Most of our offerings are priced high," I started out defensively,
not used to dealing with anyone who had to worry about what slaves cost.

     "I know, but I thought it wouldn't hurt to inquire - I
thought.... perhaps... sometimes you had some stock that wouldn't bring
much on the auction block... now and then... maybe.."

     I stared at him for a long while and then thought of several boys back
in the holding pens that had just been traded in for new stock by a
thriving brothel in Chicago.  We hadn't allowed much for trade-in value and
I really hadn't thought of what exactly I was going to do with them.  The
profits on their replacements had been enough to where I could wholesale
them to the rendering plants or just give them away and still make plenty
on the deal. As I thought about it, the slaves didn't look all that
worn-out despite the heavy usage they had no doubt received in the brothel
- just a little gray around the temples, some tell-tale wrinkles around the
eyes, some receding hairlines, balls that were sagging noticeably, and
assholes that rarely really closed entirely anymore.  Why couldn't they be
resold as "used goods" to someone like this black man who wanted one only
for his own use?  Why did I have to sell them for next to nothing to a
rendering plant or perhaps an organ-replacement outfit - either one would
give me about $150 a pound at best.

     "Well, won't hurt to look, will it?" I said hopefully to the black
man.  "We just might find something cheap enough for you.  Let's say you
had enough money to purchase a slave.  What would you be looking for?

     "Well, all things being equal, I suppose I would really like a black
man like myself who had been well trained in accepting his slavery and who
had a good track record in pleasing a master in his bed.  Given my
druthers, I suppose I would like best a slave that had been a bed boy to
some rich man or woman for a number of years and had performed in his
duties there very well but his master or mistress had tired of him or maybe
a brothel slave that couldn't manage the work load anymore or perhaps a
mistress' or master's play toy who was getting a bit old for that sort of
thing.  Surely, sir, they'd cost less than the fresh young boys just out of
slave training schools."

     With that, I invited him back to the holding pens some distance from
the regular sales display areas.  The holding pens were crowded that day
and the place reeked of its usual odors and sounds: the overwhelming smell
of body sweat, urine, and stale cum and the clamor of muted frantic
questions, bodies constantly rubbing against each other in the overcrowded
pens, the occasional screams as prods and whips found their mark by
overseers managing the pens, and the grunts and groans of those being used
by the overseers for their own pleasure at the moment, a privilege even
overseers who were slaves themselves had over their charges.

     Without too much difficulty, I found a back pen where the brothel's
trade-ins had been placed temporarily.  Whip in hand, I ordered them
outside their cage and to display themselves properly. They eagerly
complied, falling over each other in complying to my commands, in that they
sensed a potential sale might be possible other than the terminal disposals
all slaves had at least heard rumors about.

     The black man's eyes lighted up when a black slave displayed himself
right in front of him who had a prestigious brothel tattoo, signifying his
special training, right in the middle of his back.  The black, turning
slightly gray around his temples, had a very tight muscular ass, a well-
muscled body indicating the brothel had kept him in mandatory weight
lifting and exercise routines, and was ruggedly masculine.  He sported a
nice-sized but not gigantic circumcised prick, nicely shaped balls that
still appeared fairly firm despite all the use he had undoubtedly received
over the years, and seemed to be totally compliant and accepting of what he
had been used for over the past few years.

     When I saw the customer's interest in the black goods being offered, I
thought I could get whatever the man had in his savings.  It would in all
probability be considerably more than I could get for the slave in selling
him to a lady's posh beauty boutique where the treatments involved being
skillfully fucked whenever the ladies were interest in this diversion or
selling him off for organ replacements.  The boutique had offered a paltry
sum for such a slave, considering all they expected out of the
purchase. Besides, the boutique had requested a white slave although I
doubt it would make too much difference once they saw this one.

     Nevertheless, I insisted my potential buyer also examine some of the
other trade-ins.  A big white would cost him no more and was just as good
looking, but was, admittedly even older than the black boy and the white
sported a prick so big not too many could handle it up their ass if that's
one of the things he had in mind.

     "These trade-in's from the brothels - what generally happens to them?"
the customer asked, obviously genuinely interested.

     "Well, a white slave traded in a few weeks ago by a famous brothel,
very similar to the slave you see here, was lucky enough to be bought by a
black master who wanted a heavy-hung white boy in his personal stable.
Under his new ownership, the slave's life was relatively easy compared to
his previous life back in the brothel - he was seldom fucked more than
three times a day by either his new master or his many guests and he
generally had to discharge a full load only twice a day or so - either from
being milked or fucking his master once a day or so - always under the
master's complete direction, of course.  His output was a big hit with his
new owner who enjoyed a slug of fresh slave cum each morning as a nice
little tonic."

     "That was a lucky slave," the black man commented, "although I doubt
if I would demand much more from a slave after the novelty wore off."

     "Probably not, and any of these boys could perform up to those levels,
despite how much they got fucked back in the brothels.  You know, I've seen
a lot of brothel slaves being traded in for fresh stock.  Most of them are
still damn appealing and every single one of them I've seen is fully
accepting of what they've been asked to do over the years.  I can't imagine
them being anything but grateful to a new owner, no matter what was asked
of them.  It's a shame, really, that they are marketed better.  For most of
them we just don't bother.  They get shipped over to rendering or the organ
processing places - it's just easier that way than holding them at some
expense while someone finds a new home for them. Costs a lot just to feed
and house a boy when you're not getting anything out of him in return, you
know."

     "Can you come up with $30,000 for the black slave you seem to have
taken a fancy to?"  I asked the customer.  "That's just a little more that
what we'd get for him for his organs."

     "Can do," the black man answered.  "He's worth that, even if all he's
good for anymore is just taking a good fucking.  For all I know, he can't
shoot off anymore or even hold an erection very long, but for that price,
who cares? "

     "My sentiments exactly, sir," I answered.  "But, my experience says
that with the easier life he'll have with you, his virility will come
around over time and within three months or so, he'll get it up just as
well as he ever did.  The brothels tend to heavily overuse their boys as
you are no doubt aware, but a little rest goes a long way in getting them
back to what they were originally. Sometimes, I think that instead of
always trading them in like they do, they'd do just as well sending them
off to a rest home for a few months.  Wouldn't cost them nearly as much as
trading in their stock."

     "Yes, but the stock would still look older and everyone going to a
brothel wants them young and tender," the black man laughed.

     "I'm sure you're right, so my business will continue to prosper," I
snickered.

     With that, the black boy was shackled appropriately while I collected
the sales money (a credit card charge after I checked the bank) and filled
out the bill of sale and put the other stock back in their holding cage.  I
watched as the black slave struggled with his shackles to get into the back
of his new master's SUV for the trip to his new home. I had no doubt his
shackles would be off within the hour and his ass would be taking the full
length of his new master's prick.  I chuckled as I thought it wouldn't be
anything new to the slave, but it would be a thrilling experience for his
new owner.  It's always a thrill to own what you're fucking and to know you
can do it over and over with no additional fees and no objections from the
well-trained and very experienced slave being fucked.

     My deceased partner Jake specialized in buying and training slaves
newly placed on the market and had many a tale about his work in that area.
He had obtained slaves from all over the world of every different color
from coal black to lily white, every occupational background from Sunday
School teachers to drug dealers and pimps, every educational level from the
illiterate to Ph.D.s, and every attitude toward their new life from deep
rebellious resentment to a placid stoic acceptance.  One block of our
holding pens held the latest batches of these newly acquired slaves being
prepared for their initial basic training procedures.  Another block of
pens held those currently in basic slave training.  Still another block
held those who had completed their basic training and were not enrolled in
specialized training, i.e., training as a pleasure slave.  Finally, another
building of cells held those who had received all the training they were
going to get from us and were now awaiting the next auction. Altogether, we
had over 4600 slaves available for eventual sale in this one site alone.
No wonder we were now one of the largest slave dealers in the country.

     I n addition, we had a huge corps of trainers at the site.  While the
overseers that fed, bathed, and got the slaves from one place to another,
as well as caged them appropriately, were all slaves themselves (usually
aging or unattractive slaves that were worth more to us as overseers than
we could get for them on the auction block), the trainers were all hired
freemen who enjoyed shaping the slaves into totally compliant obedient
animals that would prove satisfactory to any buyer no matter what was asked
of them.  In addition, the trainers made sure the slaves knew how to
display themselves well to attract the highest bids, how to use their
bodies to please a new master or mistress both in and out of bed, and how
to put everything they had into accomplishing what their new owner wanted
whether it was grunt work at the sewage plant, working on their farms and
factories, cleaning their houses, or pleasing them sexually.

     Trainers often had failed in other occupations which proved boring to
them.  But whipping slaves into shape was a special talent that required an
attitude that slaves are just animals, not humans like they were.  The best
among them got their 'kicks' from shaping the slaves into docile
domesticated animals - something natural dominants enjoyed.

     Jake had a theory that the very best trainers had been raped in their
youth by bullies or authority figures such as their fathers or older
brothers.  Their deep-seated resentment expressed itself when given an
outlet - the very best outlet being domination over those who had to do as
they say or suffer the consequences - i.e., slaves. I saw his point as,
invariably, trainers tended to rape the slaves under them at every
opportunity and the minute they were assigned a new slave.  It wasn't just
establishing their authority (which was routine in any slave training), it
was more than that when you studied the trainers' faces as they fucked
their charges.  It was the reverse play on what had happened to them years
and years ago when they too could do nothing about it.

     As a result of Jake's theory, we always let our trainers pick out the
slaves they wanted to work with.  Usually, this involved having the slave
stand before the trainers needing a new assignment totally exposed while
they looked the slave over thoroughly, questioned him as to his background
and attitude to assess how difficult he would be to train, and to judge his
reaction to their powerful, muscular bodies (Jake only hired trainers who
were very well built and physically imposing).

     Most trainers started out working with the slaves with a least a pair
of shorts on to let the slave know they were free men, but usually these
were discarded when they started fucking the slaves to establish their
authority.  After that, they just worked nude (like the slaves were kept)
in that the slaves knew who they were by this time and it was a lot easier
to fuck the slaves conveniently without having to remove their shorts each
time in that most trainers fucked the slaves they were training at least
two or three times a day each.  By not shooting off each time, they were
able to fuck all the slaves under their supervision over and over.  A
typical trainer thus poked a good 12 to 15 butts a day and saved their
discharge for the end of a working day when they had a slave trainee suck
them off and swallow the whole load.

     When a trainee looked at his trainer each day, he saw a mountain of
muscle who was going to ream his butt over and over each and every day.

     This procedure accomplished three goals: it taught the slave his body
was no longer his own but now belonged to his owners who would do what they
wanted with it; it familiarized the slave with one of his most basic duties
- satisfying an owner sexually; and it satisfied the trainers who saw
fucking the slaves one of the most effective ways of establishing their
absolute authority over the slaves.

     We paid our trainers well.  As I said before, they were highly
selected for physical as well as psychological traits. In addition, they
had to be able to fuck long and hard if slaves were to be properly and
completely trained. We wanted them to feel their efforts were recognized
and rewarded.  But, as Jake pointed out, if we had selected a trainer well,
his best reward was producing a slave who was eager to please his mistress
or master, who accepted his slave status without question, and who could no
longer conceive of being anything but a slave.

     With their pay, most of the trainers saved up for their old age by
investing in the stock of, you guessed it - slave processing, training, and
trading firms like our own - a business they felt they had a stake in and
which would undoubtedly grow as slave ownership spread to the middle class.
If they wanted to invest in our company's stock, we gave them a 5% discount
as a fringe benefit.  Another fringe benefit we offered, which wasn't
common with other dealers, was the privilege of taking any slave we had in
stock home with them overnight as long as they vouched for the security of
our property and didn't return the slave with any damage that would affect
the slave's sales price.

     How effective our training was could be ascertained by the prices
brought when the slave was auctioned off as compared to what we had paid
for him originally.  In most cases, the difference was at least 100%.  Few
people wanted an untrained slave and all the troubles that entails.  They
were more than willing to pay for something they could count on to give
good service with little to no complications.  Deduct the cost of the
trainers and what it cost to feed and house them in the holding cells while
they were being trained and we still made at least 50% profit we figured.

     My special interest was in the used slave market - buying a slave who
had been trained long ago and had served, usually, at least one or two
masters or mistresses before ending back up in the market again.  This took
a lot of expertise in ferreting out the quality stock from the stock being
dumped for good reason.

     The object, of course, was to buy a high quality, well trained slave
on the cheap and resell him for at least a 50% profit.  Two factors were
paramount: one, the slave had to still have a nice, appealing body that
wasn't worn out; two, the slave's training was still well embedded so a new
owner could expect the same degree of obedience and total compliance he or
she would expect from a slave right out of a training program.

     Many of the slaves I bought had been used as pleasure slaves by
previous owners and were marketed to new buyers interested in slaves
already well trained and experienced in that area.  The idea of a fresh
virgin wasn't valued by this group, who valued complete compliance and
mastery of work skills over freshness.

     Pleasure slaves generally had very nice, appealing, and sexy bodies or
they wouldn't have been picked for that speciality area to start
with. Generally, males in this area had well-toned muscular physiques,
large, easily aroused sexual organs, and handsome, masculine looks.

     Their original training was generally extensive, starting with getting
used to having their bodies fondled all over, accepting rigorous
manipulation of their sexual organs, obtaining and holding an erection as
long as their owner wanted, adapting to being fucked long, hard, and deep
by all sizes and shapes of pricks, sucking anything stuck in their mouths
without hesitation and swallowing any output down without reserve, and
being familiar with all the ways a body could be fucked and/or suck
possible.  They also needed to know how to fuck to yield the most pleasure
when that skill was called upon since most mistresses (and many masters)
started with that demand.

     Sex training was one of the longest training programs slaves were
exposed to and resulted in sex slaves brining some of the highest prices on
the market, over and above what their good looks and heavy equipment would
have brought anyway.

     But the market was growing steadily for sex slaves.  Everyone of means
had at least one or two on hand and the middle classes were beginning to
buy used sex slaves about as quick as they hit the market.  Prices for used
slaves were going down at the same time.  Ten years ago, sex slaves were
the latest rage, but now that original batch were entering their late 20s
and early 30s and the prices reflected the depreciation.

     Not all the used sex slaves I marketed were that old, however.  Some
were still relatively young and had hit the market for a variety of
reasons.  One, Puppy, was a 21-year-old mulatto slave who had been been
owed by a black teenager as his personal bed buck. But financial problems
(mainly a drug deal gone bad) forced the teenage master to sell Puppy to me
at a sacrifice price.  I made a fortune on that deal, selling Puppy to a
white man in his 40s who liked well trained, well hung slaves with a touch
of color to them.  Another blond stud was 30 when I acquired him from his
mistress, but looked no more than 25 and could get it up readily and hold
an erection for hours if necessary.  His former mistress traded her studs
in every two or three years in that she had a fetish for the young bucks.
That proclivity for freshness was much to my financial benefit in that I
sold the stud for two-and-a-half times what I paid for him to a young
millionaire just 23 who preferred his sex slaves be older than him - some
sort of a dominance thing with him apparently, especially noticeable in
that he had all his slaves leashed by the tight band around their genitals
as well as all of them were kept with rings through the end of their
penises where they could also be leashed.  In addition, every slave he had
(and he had over eight of them in his house alone) had to totally genuflect
in his presence with their body fully bent over as their forehead touched
the ground and their knees spread wide apart to best display their sexual
organs.  I imagined the slaves he bought got used to this fast enough, but
being led around by his genitals would take some getting used to, even
being fully trained.  After I had bought them and when the moment of their
resale arrived, these slaves already knew how to display themselves well.
They made sure their organs were easy to manipulate, generally by thrusting
them as far forward into the prospective customer's hands as possible and
never flinched as they were stroked and fondled.  Those kneeling made sure
their knees were as far apart as possible to offer the best display of
their organs and each one made an effort to smile at whoever was looking
them over to convey they wanted to be bought.

     But not every slave I bought for resale had been a pleasure slave.
Many were nice enough looking, but had been the more common type of slave:
slaves used in construction work, the mines, factory work, etc.  Most
slaves, frankly, ended up doing the work no one else wanted to do - the
grunt work - and there was a huge market there.  In fact, I would estimate
a good 90% of all slaves were purchased for that purpose and the popularity
of slavery rested as much on this endless source of labor as much as it did
having a body around to cheerfully take care of your sexual needs.

     Used slaves in this area were common enough.  Firms utilizing them
went bankrupt for any number of reasons and their creditors sold off their
assets, mainly draft slaves.  Corporate takeovers often revealed surplus
slaves on hand which could be put to better use by selling them off for
whatever they would bring.  Companies with temporary cash flow problems
often sold off some slave stock to raise much needed capital, only to turn
around and buy replacement stock when the financial crisis had passed.  In
this latter case, the corporations were using the slave dealers as a bank,
so to speak, in that they were borrowing from us by giving us slaves as
collateral.  In their view, a slave was a slave, a unit of work, so it
didn't matter which particular slaves were involved in the shifts.

     Slaves like this didn't even seem to mind change of ownership.  They
had never been called by a name, they usually worked in gangs where a ready
whip "told" them what to do and at what pace, and they seldom had the same
overseers from one day to the next.  The corporate world they lived in was
impersonal, profit oriented, and certainly viewed slaves as a commodity -
animals to be exploited and then traded at will.  One body was just as good
as another and a supervisor was judged by how much work could be extracted
from those under him - no questions really asked about how he did this as
long as the properties didn't depreciate too much in the process.  The only
"human" aspects of their work was being fucked by their overseers - this
brought human contact, at least, and sometimes gave them a little pleasure,
although that certainly wasn't the point of them being fucked.

     So, there's that sort of market - the raw work market and then there's
the more esoteric market.  For example, not too long ago, I was able to
acquire two brothers right out of initial training in that their slave
training facility was going under due to poor management. I got them
cheaply enough, considering that the original owner's goal was to selll
them as a pair of potential pleasure slaves due to their unique
similarities and generally appealing body characteristics.  The original
plan was to give them additional specific training as sex slaves that takes
on the average about three months before complete satisfaction is
practically guaranteed.  As it turned out, I enrolled them in sex training
at our own facility once I acquired ownership of them, and sold them to a
super-rich Saudi Arabian who owned nothing but tall, well-hung white slaves
and hugely muscled black slaves hung like bulls. The two brothers not only
had to please their new owner whenever he wanted, but frequently had to
stage exhibitions where the black slaves fucked them relentlessly for their
master's amusement.

     As my partner, Jake, always said, "it takes all kinds."  He also
claimed demand would never fall off despite the temporary ups and downs,
because "everyone wants at least one slave under his roof."  Jake claimed
it was the job of Bartholomew & Smith, PC, to make that possible.  "As long
as we do that better than anyone else," he repeatedly stated, "we'll be
rich and even...  well known."

     No wonder I honor Jack Bartholomew's memory.  If it wasn't for him, I
wouldn't have close to one billion dollars at the tender age of 49.  Don't
let anyone ever tell you there isn't money in slaves.  If so, they're an
imbecile when it comes to business!

THE END

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