Date: Fri, 11 Feb 2005 14:22:48 -0800 (PST)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: Enslaved, Part 7

ENSLAVED, By Pete Brown. petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

Read all of Pete's stories in
groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories

Part 7

When the slaves expressed themselves as satisfied with
their work on me, they had one more thing to do:  they
told me to bend over, and I saw them get a tube of
lube and approach my ass.  I told them to fuck off,
but they said "Hey, Steve, don't give us a hard
time.... It's orders - all slaves have to be lubed
before presentation to the master for the first time,
in case he wishes to fuck them."

"That won't happen to me!", I said confidently.

"Steve, do you want to get us whipped?  If Straughan
found out that we'd skipped part of the preparation,
that's what would happen...."

Even though it was totally stupid, as there was no way
my uncle was going to fuck his nephew, I could see
their point.  So we compromised, and they let me
grease my hole myself.  Even that was bad enough -
it's hard to bend your body to get your finger right
up, isn't it?  And, of course, even though I'd
experimented with fingering my hole when jerking off,
that had been in the privacy of my room as a young
guy, before I'd started fucking the female slaves, and
here I had to do it with the slaves watching me.
Still, it was better than having another guy's finger
up there!
Finally, they dressed me in one of the tiny loincloths
that house slaves sometimes wore - I looked at myself
in the mirror, and felt totally in control:  those
days of work had toughened my muscles, my belly had
really flattened and was starting to show signs of an
interesting six pack, and the hot sun had burned my
skin into a wonderful deep tan all over.  I looked the
very picture of a perfect specimen of manhood, and I
really hated the loincloth:  I wasn't ashamed of my
dick, and it seemed almost stupid to cover it up!  In
fact, in some respects having this tiny piece of
fabric doing a very inadequate job of concealing my
dick and balls if I moved at all was much worse:
naked, I was a proud man, unashamed of his body.
Covered like this, I was some sort of sex object.

I did wonder why they made me dress like this, as
surely it would have been more appropriate to give me
boxers, slacks, a shirt and proper shoes before I had
my reconciliation interview with my uncle.  But I
thought that my uncle must have some scheme for
getting me back into circulation properly, avoiding a
scandal, and perhaps that meant going in as a slave,
then "reappearing" some time later as his nephew and
heir.

It felt very odd going through the corridors of the
house almost naked - public near-nudity for free men
was of course out of the question when I was living
there, and I even had to put a bathrobe on over my
Speedos if I changed in my suite and wanted to go down
to the pool.  After all, if free men started going
around almost naked, how would it be possible to
distinguish slaves?  I wriggled my toes in the
luxurious pile of the carpet, marvelling at how long
it had been since I had felt anything other than
concrete and straw under my feet.  The air
conditioning made me feel slightly chilly, as working
naked I guess  I'd got used to the feel of the sun and
the humidity which we were plagued with in the south -
 it was perhaps the dryness of the air in the house
which made the difference.  And then there were the
smells - all those civilised smells of  the polish on
the antique furniture, the flowers artfully arranged
everywhere, all overlaid by the faint scent of my
uncle's cologne which he had specially mixed for him
and which he said he'd give me the formula for one
day.

One of the house boys - I'm sure it was one I'd fucked
recently, but he didn't dare speak - led me to the
door of my uncle's study, and opened it.  I knew that
my uncle couldn't be there as otherwise the slave
would have been whipped for not knocking and waiting,
and we went in.  Everything was the same - the dark
panelling, the books, and the leather chesterfields
where my uncle and I had spent many a happy hour
talking.  The only change was that they seemed to have
rearranged the furniture a little, as the precious
antique flogging horse was no longer in the corner but
was more prominently placed in front of the fire - as
usual, there were real logs burning in the grate,
battling the air-conditioning for control of the
room's temperature.

The slave whispered that I was to wait, and advised me
to assume the "display" position for when my master
entered.  But as soon as he left, I sprawled on one of
the chesterfields (in spite of its leather feeling
clammy against my bare skin) and arranged the tiny
loincloth as best I could to cover my tackle - in
spite of my previous bravado about the perfection of
my body, I felt somehow awkward about appearing naked
in front of my uncle again.

I sat there, drinking in the atmosphere and realising
how much I had missed it, and I heard the door open.
I turned, expecting to see my uncle, but Straughan was
standing there.  I relaxed a little, and he snapped
"It's traditional, no, it's required, for a slave to
stand up when a free man enters the room!  And what
are you doing sitting down - slaves don't occupy the
furniture in this house.... How dare you - get to your
feet, at once!"

"Hey, Straughan, hold your horses there... I'm sure my
uncle won't mind...."

Straughan gave me one of his evil smiles, raised the
small riding crop he always self-importantly carried,
and brought it down hard across both my nipples.  I
shrieked with the sheer unexpectedness of the pain,
and leapt to my feet.  "Have you gone mad,
Straughan...."

"It's you who has gone mad, slave!", he retorted. "How
dare you refer to me as anything other than 'sir' or
'master'.  Now on your feet, and assume 'display' for
your owner to inspect you, or didn't they teach you
that at the slave dealers?"

"I came in here expecting to see a slave who was only
partially trained", he continued, "and I warned your
owner that this might be difficult.  I never expected
this degree of sheer insolence and disobedience...."
He turned to the telephone on a side table, and
pressed a single button on the display - the one I'd
often looked at, but which we had never had to use
before at the plantation as discipline was so good.  I
knew it said simply "guards".

Within seconds there was the sound of running in the
corridor, and three of Straughan's henchmen, overseers
of the field gangs, burst in.  Straughan nodded at me
and they grabbed my arms, holding me between them.
Straughan came and stood immediately in front of me
and ripped off the tiny loin cloth, then reached down
and stroked my dick and cupped my balls in his hands.


"Straughan....", I shouted, horrified at what he was
doing to me, especially in this room.

"You'll do very nicely, slave, for what we have in
mind, very nicely indeed, I think!  And it will do you
good to remember that we have power over you, total
power, using physical force if necessary, as you are
about to see."  He then snapped at the guards "On the
horse with him, belly down, arms and legs secured but
let the body move."

They pulled me roughly over to the horse, pushed me
down and quickly strapped the Velcro bindings, whilst
all the time I cursed and swore at Straughan, telling
him how I'd have him fired for this.  Straughan just
kept up the thin smile on his face, then reached into
his pocket and puled out a ball gag, holding it there
on its leather straps for me to see.

He dared to slap my face as I lay there, and carried
on, his blows getting harder and harder,  until I
finally, reluctantly, opened my mouth so that he could
slip the gag in.  As he fastened the strap behind my
head my protests and shouts became incomprehensible,
and Straughan just stood there looking at me as I
thrashed about, futilely, trying to get free.  "I
ought to send for a Malaca and beat the hide off your
butt, slave!  But your owner doesn't want me to do
that - yet.  So you're safe for now."

Still smiling his thin, evil smile, he turned and went
out, and I was left lying there, helpless, feeling the
firelight flickering on my naked skin which was now
sheened with sweat.  I don't know how long I lay there
- I could hear the big old clock ticking gently as it
always had done since I first came here, but could not
see its face - I was in a kind of reverie, wondering
what the fuck was happening:  it was obvious form the
way that Straughan had acted that he knew who  I was,
but was still making no overt signs, even though we
had been alone together and there was no possibility
of another slave hearing and spreading scandal.  And
why had he gagged me like this?  Surely my uncle and I
would talk, like two civilised southern gentlemen,
resolve our issues, give each other a manly handshake,
and then I could resume my life.  How on earth were we
going to do that, with me tied down like this, and
effectively silenced?

Ultimately the door opened again and my uncle came in,
followed silently and perfectly by one of the boy
waiters.  As ever, he was immaculate, and as it was
evening, he was dressed in his customary fine black
trousers, and elegant white shirt finished off with a
cravat which perfectly matched the burgundy velvet of
his smoking jacket. My uncle snapped at the slave to
pour him a brandy, then when the slave dropped to his
knees to present it, took it and ordered the slave to
leave.  He just stood there for a minute or two,
looking at me.  I'd turned my head to look at him, and
I just knew from the look of recognition that passed
that he knew who I was.

"So, Jon...", he began, and I at once felt exhilarated
 He'd acknowledged me, so this ordeal would soon be
over.  But he continued "No, I forget myself, you're
the new slave, Steve.  You're a willing, obedient
slave, whereas my nephew, Jon, was a disobedient
ingrate.  I gave him a good home, showered him with
presents, loved him, gave him a good education...
Then, when I wanted only one simple thing of him, he
threw all that love and kindness in my face and walked
out."

"All I wanted was for Jon to give me two sons, 'the
heir and a spare' as I always called them, and he
refused.  Now Steve, of course, would not do that - he
had already fathered two sons, I read in his dossier.
Even that pony I sometimes use, Blackie, has fathered
two sons.  So why would it have been so hard for Jon
to have done so?  It's not as if he did not have
enough fertile male seed - he was always spilling it
into the slave girls and I had to have several of them
aborted."

I started to wriggle and squirm on the horse, trying
to attract his attention so that he might listen to
the sounds I was trying to make, sounds of "Please,
uncle, please stop this...."

He came and stood beside me, then slapped me hard on
the butt with his open hand.  In spite of being an
older man, my uncle was still powerfully built and the
slap echoed around the room like a pistol shot.  "Be
silent!  I heard enough arguments from Jon, and I do
not intend to have any from Steve."

As well as being physically hurt by the blow, I was
humiliated:  my uncle had spanked my bare butt,
something that he'd never done before, even when I was
a young lad.  It was just awful that he was doing it
now, to a fully grown man like me.

"Yes, Steve, you're a slave.  And you will obey me,
unlike Jon.  That nephew of mine not only hurt me when
he disobeyed my orders, but he ruined the reputation
of one of the finest belles of the South: when he ran
off, it was widely assumed that there must be some
fault in her character, or body, or both.  The poor
girl has had to move to Paris to avoid the scandal,
and live a terrible life there with nothing to do all
day except shop, dine, and visit museums."

My uncle took a deep draught of the brandy, put down
the cut glass goblet on a side table, and then to my
horror I felt his hands resting on my butt!  "I always
liked my nephew's body", he continued, "but never once
did he allow his uncle the privileges that one might
expect.  Even though he was sixteen and fully mature
when he came here, he never once allowed me to see his
body naked, or came and companionably slipped into bed
with me on a Sunday morning before church to discuss
the day's affairs.  No, he was always off whoring with
the women slaves.  And he even protested when I
insisted he wore the most fashionable and expensive
hose so that prospective brides and their parents
could see what a fine specimen of a man he was - he
wanted to strangle and conceal his parts with a pouch
underneath.... Not like you, eh, Steve?"

I flinched, but there was nothing I could do about it,
when I felt my uncle's hands moving around on my butt,
 feeling the shape and strength of my ass, and he went
on "Yes, that Jon was always almost ashamed of showing
his butt, even though it was nicely shaped and a
pleasure to the eye - if he'd taken more time to work
out properly, I think it would have been exactly like
yours, Steve... although he wouldn't have ended up
with this...."  I felt his finger tracing the "S"
branded into me.

"Yes, Steve, I'm lucky, I think - I've now got a slave
totally under my power, someone who will obey me
totally, rather than throw all my love and affection
in my face like that Jon did -  I think I'm glad he's
gone, as I've ended up with the best part of the
bargain.  But you know, Steve, slaves have to
understand that they are totally in the power of their
owners, and perhaps it's even more important for you
than it is for most other slaves, eh?"

>From the way he was speaking I knew he knew it was me!
 This was coded messages to me telling me that I was
to obey him.  I wished he'd shut up, let me go free,
so that I could say I was sorry, and would do better
in future.  And I guess now that I saw how serious he
was about it, I'd even agree to marry Marie-Louise, if
that's what he still wanted - after all, I could
always fuck Blackie when we were out. I could think of
several quiet secluded spots in the woods on the
plantation where we could go and make out, just as if
we were both still slaves together in the stables.  I
might even try to find some way of getting Blackie as
my body servant, so he'd always be available in my
suite - although I could just order it, I guessed that
wouldn't be popular with Marie-Louise, though. I knew
that body servants for married couples were generally
young females as it was considered necessary for the
husband to have some means of relief available if the
wife was tired or otherwise did not want her husband's
attention that night.  There would probably be some
buzz of scandal if I used Blackie instead, but I had
heard it was becoming more acceptable, especially in
the most enlightened households,  to have young males,
too.  It showed that the couple were truly "modern"
and equal, in case the wife needed attention when her
husband was exhausted, or drunk, or both:  mind you,
even then, the slave was generally young, slim-hipped
and smooth and of course had had his balls removed so
that there would be no problem of possible
pregnancies.  I could have this done to Blackie as he
was a a "lifer" but I wasn't sure that Blackie would
like it, even though it would mean he could be with
me, and I didn't want to spoil our loving
relationship. Still, I felt confident  I could work
something out, once everything had been cleared up
with my uncle.

"Yes, Steve, Jon never allowed his uncle, his kind,
loving uncle, to get properly close to him as families
should be.  Even though he was sixteen when he came
here, he never once made any sign that he and I were
family, close family...  I blame my brother, actually
- if he'd spent more time at home, getting to really
know his son, rather than gadding off around the globe
'doing good' for the undeserving and ungrateful poor
elsewhere, Jon might have understood that you love and
respect older members of your family.  You'd love and
respect your uncle, Steve, wouldn't you, just as you
love and respect your master?"

When I just lay there, he slapped me hard on the ass
with his open palm again, causing my body to convulse.
 He asked me again, and, as best I could through the
gag, I made noises of assent, and nodded my head.
This was fucking humiliating, being spanked like this
on my bare ass, but I had to go along with him - it
wasn't going to go on for ever, after all, and I might
as well let him think he was in the right.

"Good boy!  See, even a slave can have proper
feelings, when a young free man, who had been given
every advantage, simply ignored his duties to his
uncle.  Now...."

I heard that characteristic noise of clothes dropping,
then a "clunk" as a belt buckle hit the floor.  My
uncle's hands on my butt prised my cheeks apart, then
I felt something else, something warm and hard,
running up and down my ass crack!  I started to buck
and squirm as violently as I could, even though I was
held pretty close to the horse by the bindings, but
there was no way I could stop my uncle's dick.  I was
making frantic noises, too, trying to tell him to
stop, but he was speaking, now... "Oh, Steve, you have
a lovely ass.... All that exercise has made it lovely
and firm... Better than Jon's... Feel it, Steve, feel
your master's dick playing with you... This is how a
master and slave, or an uncle and his nephew, ought to
be...."

Above the humiliation of the whole thing I have to
admit that something was happening to my body - it
wasn't wholly unpleasant to have my uncle's dick
teasing the sensitive membrane of my hole.  But then I
was outraged - he had no right to do this to me, he
was my uncle, for fuck's sake!  I know a lot of young
guys do enjoy the company of older men, and want to be
initiated into the pleasures of sex in a loving,
family relationship, but that had never been me - by
the time I'd come to the plantation, I was ready for
fucking the women!  But even as I thought this, I
realised that my uncle was not going to stop with just
playing with me:  my whole body filled with the
sensation of his dick head as he positioned himself
squarely at my sphincter, and began to push.

"NO!", I was trying to shout out, as the pressure
intensified.

"Come on, Steve...", I could hear him saying. "Open
up, boy, and let me in... I'm going in there, boy,
right up you, and so stop being so stubborn... You're
almost as bad as  that nephew of mine used to be,
never co-operating properly with his uncle....
Now...."

There was a momentary release of his insistent
pressure, then he slammed into me, forcing his dick
right in.  I gave a great shout as the pain of his
member battering at my membranes raced through my
body, then carried on crying out as he slowly, and
without stopping, slid himself in all the way.  Thank
Christ I'd had that lube!  I felt his wiry pubic hair
brushing against me, and the heat of this body and
thighs pushing against my butt and the back of my
legs.  He leaned forward, and I felt the smoothness of
his silk shirt against my sweating back.  Putting his
head close to mine, he lowered his voice to a whisper
and almost crooned "There, boy, now you've got a dick
inside you.  That's the first time, isn't it?  I bet
you had a misspent youth fucking women, just like my
nephew, when you could have spent it with other guys
enjoying this...."

So saying, he started to fuck me, and this was no
gentle fuck - this was more like Blackie when he was
in a bad mood, as my uncle simple thrust in and out
without a care for the hurt he must have known he was
causing me as I had been a virgin before tonight.  I
couldn't scream, because of the gag, and all I could
do was to keep trying to break free and make
unintelligible noises that ought to have told him to
stop.  Fortunately, though, my uncle must have been on
edge himself as he quickly shot his load up in to me,
then without much of an interval, pulled out and I
heard the rustle of clothes as he was obviously
dressing.

My uncle sat on one of the chesterfields, looking at
my body on the horse, the flames from the fire
reflecting in the sheen of sweat all over me.  "So,
boy, now you know that you're totally in my power.  I
possess you utterly - I own you as a slave, and my
dick has taken your ass.  You will live here for as
long as I choose, and you will obey me in everything.
My nephew had choices, but he foolishly squandered his
freedom;  you have no choices, you are a slave, and
you will obey."

I was hurting, physically and emotionally.  I'd just
been raped, and by my uncle!  Still, I thought, at
least I now had some hold over him - once we got
talking, he'd surely have a bit of remorse for what
he'd done?  I kept expecting him to release me, but he
seemed to be waiting for something.  He sat enjoying
the brandy, his eyes almost never taken off me, until
there was a discrete knock at the door, which opened
to reveal one of the waiter slaves, who showed in
Marie-Louise's father.

My uncle and the man exchanged pleasantries, then they
both came over to me as I lay there helplessly.  "You
were right about what we discussed when you
telephoned", Marie-Louise's father said. "This slave
is magnificent.  The last time I saw an ass like that
was when your nephew came to our house shortly before
he ran out on my daughter.  He had pulled down those
display hose, and the sight was most rewarding - but
this slave is even better:  hard work always does the
trick for the ass and thighs, I think."

"Quite so", my uncle replied.  "Anything else...?"

"Yes, the dick."  As he spoke, Marie-Louise's father
reached between my spread legs and pulled my dick
backwards.  I could feel him stroking it, and I began
to erect.  "Your nephew was well hung, just like this.
 I remember thinking what a pity it was he would have
an unsightly flap of skin covering his dick head, but
that seems to have been remedied here...."

I was utterly humiliated, having this man and my uncle
discuss my body like this.  Then I felt his hands
begin to slide over my ass, and he probed my crack,
and pressed a finger into my hole.  "Ah,  dear
friend", he continued, "I sense that you have been
breaking this slave in.  Young men are always a
trouble before they're properly broken in, aren't
they?"

"Yes - perhaps if I'd taken my nephew aside when he
first came here and introduced him properly to sex we
might not be in this predicament now.  But I'm
determined that this slave will be useful to us, and
will obey me fully, and so I have learned my lesson
and am now starting to train him properly."

"Truly a magnificent ass, as I said.  I'm most
envious..."

"Would you like a to use the slave... I could
retire....."

"Yes, indeed.  But please don't think you need to
leave:  it's only a slave I'm going to fuck, after
all..."

It's bad enough being raped by your uncle, but now my
almost-father-in-law proceeded to do the same thing.
His dick must have been thicker and longer than my
uncle's, as I was in an agony all the time he pounded
away, and he seemed to be grunting something with
immense satisfaction as each stroke bludgeoned in and
out of me.  Finally, as he slowed and shot his cum
into me, I was able to make it out:  "Fuck up my
daughter, get fucked...", he'd been moaning.  So this
was s all stage managed by my uncle - this man knew
about me, too!  Now I began to get a little worried -
surely it was going to be difficult to fix things with
Marie-Louise now her father had fucked me!  What on
earth was going to happen?

The two men then sat together, a slave was summoned to
pour more brandy, and as I still lay there,  I heard
my uncle say "So are you still satisfied with our
arrangements? Now you've seen the dick and the body,
you must surely agree that there's absolutely nothing
wrong with him, and we'll be assured of a good genetic
inheritance for our grandchildren...."

"Quite so.  As soon as our lawyers have drawn up the
necessary papers for the merging of my estate and your
plantation, I suggest we get started:  that daughter
of mine is almost bankrupting me as she 'consoles
herself', as she says, by an orgy of shopping!"

They went on like this for a bit, then talked, as men
do in the South, about neighbours, neighbours'
business, the health of the slave trade, and so on.
Finally, they stood up, and my uncle went to show
Marie-Louise's father out.  He did not reappear in the
study, but Straughan did.

He too ran his hands over my ass, then bent down and
pushed his hand up between my thighs, obviously
sensing the flow of cum down the inside as it trickled
out of my hole.  "So, Steve.... You're a proper slave
now, 'broken in' by your owner.  How does it feel,
boy, to have been fucked by your owner, like all the
other common slaves on the plantation?"  He laughed,
and went on "Oh, of course, that gag.... Still, you
wouldn't have wanted to speak, would you?  Remember,
the cauteriser.... And some of the other slaves here,
especially your buddy Blackie, might not be very
pleased with you...."

Still smiling, he called in a slave to bend down and
undo my bindings, then led me off back to the stables.
 I knew it was futile to resist, as he held all the
power currently and his guards were always on call.
When we were there, he had me bend down so that he
could remove the straps holding my gag in, and at once
I started "Please, I need to speak to my owner...."

"Silence!  As I explained, slaves don't speak to
masters unless they're spoken to.  I would have
thought it abundantly clear that your owner does not
want to speak to you!  Now, into your stall....  I
don't think you need chaining up any more, as you now
know that you're properly a slave....  There's nowhere
to run to, Steve - not with that brand on you ass and
your SIN on your arm.  So you'd better learn to live
life here as it's lived on the plantation.... Well, at
least as it's lived by slaves here on the plantation.
And that's what you are, Steve, a slave!  Your owner
has possessed you tonight, and you should now
recognise that you are, incontrovertibly, just a
slave, nothing more!"

I could see Blackie listening to all of this and
evidently wondering what it was all about, and now I
was terrified that he might still find out who I was.
My best bet, I thought was to play along with all of
it, in the hope that my uncle would "sleep on it" and
recognise the injustice he'd done me.  So I moved over
to the stall, and Blackie embraced me.

"Oh, Steve... Kneel down again", Straughan snapped.
Not wishing to be punished, as I was going to have to
live the life of a slave for a few more days at least
I reckoned, I did as I was commanded.  Straughan
slipped the little medallion from around my neck,
telling me that it was no longer needed now as my
owner had taken my cherry, so it was "open season" on
my ass!

Straughan turned and left, and a huge grin broke out
all over Blackie's face.  He came and threw his arms
around me, hugging me tight, and kissing me
passionately.  It was kind of exciting, as I just
couldn't help responding to his kisses, and getting an
erection to match his.  Then I heard him say "So,
Steve, you've been fucked at last... Now for some
fun...."

He pushed us down onto the straw, and we rolled around
for a time, each trying to get on top. But he was
stronger and more powerful than me, and soon I was
underneath him, and he was grunting at me "Open your
legs, Steve... Time for Blackie to get some of that
ass of yours....  Straughan's taken that 'do not fuck'
tag  off you, so I can do it at last.  Get ready for
my dick, Steve...."

I felt his hard dick sliding over my ass then slip
between my cheeks, trying to find my hole.  Then I
screamed as he succeeded.

"Sorry, Steve...."  Blackie pulled away immediately,
and looked hard at me.  "You're hurting, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Our owner fucked you too hard, did he?"

"Yes, and the other guy, the neighbour... He had a
dick thicker than yours...."

"Hey, Steve, I'm sorry... I thought it would just be a
token taking of your cherry: a quick in and out.  But
they both fucked you, and fucked you hard, did they?"

"Yes, Blackie, and I don't want to talk about it, OK?
It was pretty humiliating..."

"Sure, Steve.   Some guys can be a bit traumatised the
first time - I can't imagine why, as it ought to be
fun!  And it's perfectly natural, after all - I mean,
a guy's ass is just right to take a dick, isn't it?
Still.... "

I couldn't tell him why I was so ashamed, could I?  I
couldn't tell him it was because I'd been raped by my
uncle, and by a man who I used to visit, and took tea
with.  So I just had to kind of shrug, to indicate it
was the physical hurt that was the problem.

"Hey, Steve, buddy.... if you're really sore, I'm not
going to fuck you.  But we need something to cheer us
up, don't we.... Come on, buddy.... You can come and
take me, again....."

It just goes to show, doesn't it?  Here was Blackie,
an illegal immigrant, a slave, and he was showing me
more genuine kindness than these so-called "southern
gentlemen" who prided themselves on their manners and
their gentlemanly ways!  Blackie effortlessly rolled
us over and opened his legs, and somehow my erect dick
seemed to find its own way to his hole.  Poor Blackie
- he certainly wasn't expecting the pounding I gave
his ass that night - something just took hold of me
and I was so forceful it verged on the violent!  But
my brutal taking of Blackie went a long way towards
making me feel better, and it certainly did make me
sleep!

The next morning I was still sore, and so was Blackie!
 So we just lay together, stroking each others dicks
and generally gently fooling around, enjoying the
sheer physicality of our bodies, until it was time for
Blackie to be prepared for work.  The young slave who
was his "groom" told me that Mr Straughan had said
that I was to be got ready as well, and so Blackie and
I had the added pleasure of being able to shower each
other.  Afterwards, I stood and watched as Blackie
obediently knelt down so that the lad could insert the
bit and muting plate into his mouth, then tighten the
strap around his shaved head that held it in.  The lad
then put on the cap thing made of thin leather straps,
fastened Blackie's collar around his neck, and
tightened the strap from the back of the cap to the
collar so that Blackie's head was pulled right back.

As I think I've mentioned to you, the lads never got
this right, and when Blackie used to be brought
around, I always had to adjust the tension in the bit
strap so that poor Blackie's mouth wasn't hurt - or,
rather, so that he could be more sensitive to even
small pressures on the bit.  I'd never managed to get
it done right by the slaves, in spite of the most dire
threats of punishment, and I saw that poor Blackie was
still suffering.  I simply went over, slapped the
lad's ass, and loosened the bit strap slightly, then
in fact tightened the head strap as Blackie's head was
not held far enough back.  Without thinking, I then
did the other thing I'd always enjoyed doing to
Blackie - my hands slipped around his neck, and my
fingers caressed his Adam's apple and the strong
muscles in his neck, just for an instant:  I always
thought that this showed him that his owner cared
about him, and I anyway enjoyed the sensation of
having this powerful male body under my complete
control.  But now I saw some glint of surprise and
curiosity in Blackie's eyes as he knelt in front of me
as he had done so many times before.

I don't know what would have happened if Straughan
hadn't come in at that moment and ordered me to kneel,
too.  He put a leather collar around my neck, then
ordered Blackie in to the shafts of the one-man
rickshaw, and attached a chain from the back of it to
my collar.  Without another word he snapped his riding
whip lightly on Blackie's butt, and he set off, with
me jogging along behind, chained to the rickshaw just
as if I was a dog or something being exercised.

We ran along, and it wasn't so hard - although I'm
glad I used to work out regularly before I was
illegally enslaved, and I wondered how much harder it
must be for Blackie who had the weight of the rickshaw
to pull (even though, when I'd bought it, I'd ordered
a specially light weight "racing" one).  I was used to
my dick and balls bobbing up and down now, and,
frankly, I suppose I'd got mostly used to being
totally naked.  One thing about being a slave is that
it actually does make things like that easier:  If
someone had suggested that I run along the public
highway nude when I was "free", I wouldn't have done
it, as I'd have been embarrassed and ashamed.  But
once a master orders a slave out in public without
even a shred of clothing, it's not the slave's
problem, is it?  The master has taken all
responsibility and the slave is only obeying orders.
They always say that a slave should have no pride, no
shame, no modesty, and once you've had every element
of your personal freedom stripped away, including your
clothes, it is easier to think and act that way,
actually.

To my surprise we stopped at the veterinarians, and I
felt relatively calm - there wasn't much more they
could do to me now, after all, as I'd been branded,
'skinned and tattooed!  I didn't even worry about the
possibility of being gelded, as there was no chance
that my uncle would do that:  either he was going to
forgive me at some point, and he wouldn't want a
eunuch as a nephew;  or I was going to be kept as a
slave, in which case my uncle's "trading" instincts
would never allow him to lose thousands off a
potentially valuable property by having its balls
sliced off!  Still, I was surprised when Straughan led
me into the veterinarian's office, leaving Blackie
standing in the shafts outside, head bowed and hands
neatly clasped behind his back which was how I'd
taught him to stand when not running - it was good to
know that my training of him was holding.

I wasn't particularly worried  either when the
veterinarian told me to sit in his big hair, then
pulled the Velcro bindings around over my chest, arms,
wrists and ankles to hold me securely there.

"I see I did a nice job on this one", he said casually
to Straughan, as he picked my dick up as if it were
just a piece of meat and probed around on the shaft to
feel the tissue.  "No scarring, nice tight cut..."

"Yes, yes - as always, excellent.   But this other
matter we discussed - time is pressing, and I have a
hundred things to do today...."

The veterinarian snapped "Open your mouth, boy", then,
when I hesitated, his fingering  of my dick stopped
and he squeezed my balls, which caused me to give a
shout of pain.  The moment my jaws parted he slipped
in some kind of clamp, which he then screwed open so
my mouth was pulled wide apart.  He then pulled the
headrest up from the back of the chair, and fastened
my heads securely to it with another Velcro binding
around my forehead, and a pair of pads that pressed
against my ears and which were tightened by a screw
thread.

"This is going to hurt!", he told me, then, turning to
Straughan, he went on "Are you sure you don't want to
pay the additional twenty for proper anaesthetic?"

"No!  He's only a slave, and it's time he learned that
his bodily comfort is at his owner's mercy.  He was a
bit uppity and slow to respond to orders last night,
and perhaps knowing that I can order things like this
will make him realise a little better the position
he's now in.... Just get on and do it, will you?"

"Well, Straughan, I can - only last month the ASPCS
got a ruling from the Supreme Court that this kind of
work could be done without anaesthetic, you know.
They were concerned that some owners were not having
their slaves looked at at all because of rising costs,
and judged that it was better to declare that all work
like this could be done at minimal cost in the hope
that more owners would send their slaves along for
treatment.  It was a case of a little more pain for
some, to the possible greater good of the others, I
suppose."  Turning to me, he went on "But, Steve, I'm
afraid that you're one of the ones who is going to
lose out.... Still, take heart from the fact that
there are some other slave boys who are possibly
profiting as they now go to the veterinarian...."

That fucking ASPCS!  I wish they'd stop meddling!
Look, I know that up until about eighteen-something
they routinely used to do dentistry without
anaesthetic, but having two of your back teeth pulled
out without it is simply indescribable.  The
veterinarian sat across my thighs to get sufficient
purchase with his pliers to do it;  and always having
been knocked out before, I'd never appreciated that
before you can pull the tooth out you first have to
push it in to the jaw to break the cement that's
holding the tooth to the jaw bone!  I don't know which
is worse - the pain when he's pushing in, or the pain
when he's then pulling out.   Actually, thinking about
it, I suppose being raped, taking it up the ass for
the first time, is a bit like that!

And afterwards, had I not already been crying, the
tears mixing with the snot pouring out of my nose
mixing with  the blood pouring out of my mouth, I
would have done so anyway when I saw my two back
teeth, two beautiful white teeth, with no fillings,
lying there on the veterinarian's table, their long
roots still bloodstained.

Before I was let out of the chair Straughan came over
and slipped a pony bit into my mouth for the first
time, pushing it well down into the spaces in my lower
jaw left from the tooth extraction, and fastening it
in place with the head strap.  It hurt like hell, as
it cut down into the flesh of my gum where the teeth
had been pulled, and I would have cried out in a
further bout of agony had the muting plate not been
holding my tongue down firmly to the floor of my
mouth.

"Welcome to your new life, pony boy", Straughan said.
"That Blackie of yours needs a companion, and you're
really going to get to know him well."

End Of Part 7