Date: Sun, 24 Oct 2004 04:10:07 -0700 (PDT)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: Four The Same, Part Four

FOUR THE SAME    by Pete Brown    petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

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

Part Four

Having heard about the tattoo in the salve's ass
crack, I was intrigued and simply had to see it.  I've
already told you how erotic I find it to touch the
brand on a slave, to know that this piece of male
flesh has been permanently marked as the property of
his owner:  as I run my finger tip over the
indentation in the slave's skin I just can't help
getting an erection, not so much from the physical
sensation itself, but from the implication of what
that mark implies for the man's life.  Were I ever
lucky enough to be able to own a slave - and there was
little likelihood of that, given my residence in the
UK - I would certainly have him permanently marked as
my property with a brand, in order that he would fully
understand that he was no longer a free agent, but
simply something that was my possession, to do with as
I chose.

The very thought of this additional marking, an
"inventory number" tattooed into his skin, sent me to
new erotic heights.  The idea that a man might own so
much male flesh that he needed to keep track of it
using inventory control programs was in itself highly
charged, and it was clear that the slave would have
his sense of manhood further diminished by this
evidence that he was of no more concern to his owner
than was the man's car, or his pictures, or whatever.
Truly the slave must now see that he was merely owned
property, something that could be inventoried, listed,
stored, and sold, as required.

I cut the slave's narrative short by digging my finger
nails into his left nipple - I had already discovered
that his nips were incredibly sensitive -  and he
jerked backwards, giving a little cry of surprise.
Amused by this, I tried again, and the slave was in
that happy state of a little "discomfort" leading to
intense sexual arousal at the thought of another man
doing things like this to him:  he was alternately
whimpering in a kind of mock-scared kind of way, and
laughing uproariously at his own inability to control
his body's reactions. As my fingers moved towards his
nip, making a kind of pincer, he writhed, begged,
laughed, and generally added to my own excitement by
his reactions.

We lay there, panting and laughing at our behaviour.
Of course, had I been serious about wishing to really
torture these delightful parts of his body I could
have had him secured and then used clamps and pincers
to really torture him, but this episode was different
- it was just sexual foreplay, and we were both
enjoying it  (well, I was, and I suppose he was, too).
 I really did want to keep playing with his nipples as
they were specially nice - tight, hard nubs standing
proud from large, dark aureoles.  Even against his
deeply sun-tanned skin the aureoles stood out as
enticingly darker parches, and as I looked at them I
could clearly see those tiny pimples that men so often
have around the edges where the aureole joins the
regular skin of the slave's pec - nothing large or
ugly, but just tiny imperfections in the general seam
and the texture. It all adds to the pleasure of
closely examining another body, and shows us once
again what an incredible variety of textures and
sensations a man's body can provide for the fingers of
a master.  Of course, as he was shaved completely
smooth all of this was easily visible - I'm not sure
myself, though, whether a light dusting of hair here
isn't an advantage:  it's that "texture" thing, to
provide variety for the finger tips and to delight the
eye.

But let me not digress into the other erogenous zones
of the slave, there will be time for that later.
Once we had calmed ourselves and were again just lying
close, feeling the warmth of each other as our bodies
pressed companionably together, I asked him again
about the inventory number.  He shifted a little,
giving me a wonderful sensation in my ass (the slave
knew that I enjoyed feeling his strong, warm muscular
thigh between my legs, and when we were lying face to
face, he  managed to contrive to get his leg between
mine so that he could then bend it slightly and rub
his thigh gently over that incredibly sensitive part
of me behind my balls and around my hole - this is, I
believe, one of the real pleasures of lying with a
man, even if you are not having actual intercourse).

"Well, sir, after the initial stinging had worn off, I
don't think about it  much at all.  I mean, in
everyday life the slave handlers here at the palace
are not concerned about it, as they know who we are -
after all, you could hardly mistake the four of us for
other slaves, could you?  So they don't need to use
the number at all, and can just check us off their
control lists "by sight".  But occasionally our
owner's financial people come around to do an audit of
his property, and then they insist on seeing the
inventory number on us.  They have big printed lists
of all our owner's possessions - I saw it once, and it
said things like 'Slave, male, trained' by the side of
our numbers, together with a lot of financial
information like 'value at acquisition', 'depreciation
rate', and 'current book value' .  We have to bend
over and pull our ass cheeks apart so that they can
verify that we really are the slaves in the inventory.
 I think they get a bit of a thrill out of it
actually, sir - I mean, they don't look to be very
highly paid, and so I don't suppose that they can
afford to own, or even hire, slaves like us.  So
getting a chance to really peer at a set of nice
asses, as we've got, must be a bit of a thrill for
them."

I suppose I was astonished at the casual way in which
the slave spoke about this, but then, after all, he
was from the Sheikh's "pleasure room", and I could
only imagine what his regular duties consisted of.
Certainly my own experiences with him so far in bed
were that he was totally uninhibited in enjoying the
male body, and highly skilled in using it to bring
pleasure to his companion.  Just thinking about how he
might be used by some of his owner's guests who were
less considerate than me, I suppose it's not so
surprising that having to reveal yourself like that to
a bunch of administrators actually isn't a problem.
It's hard, after all, to imagine what it must be like
to live your entire life totally naked, with every
part of your body always on public display.

Anyway, I told him to roll over onto his belly, then
knelt between his firm muscled thighs and gently
pushed at them.  He obligingly moved his feet wide
apart, and I told him to reach back and spread his ass
cheeks for me.  There, as he had described, was a
number tattooed in dark black ink:  eight digits,
nestling there on the side of his left buttock,
standing out crisply from the surrounding pale skin,
and lightly sheened with perspiration.  I touched the
numbers gently with my finger tip, but could detect no
different sensation from the warm moistness that was
in that area, unlike when I had touched his brand.
But nevertheless my erection went to new levels of
hardness as I thought about the whole concept of
marking a man as property.  The delicious scent of
maleness that you always get from this part of the
male body was assailing my nose - I suppose it's all
the sweat glands around the genitals generally - and
it was all too much for me.  I took my dick in my hand
and gently ran it up and down his crack, stopping at
his pucker to wiggle it around without even seeking
entrance.  The sensation from the tip of my dick was
amazing, and I started to drool pre-cum - and as this
whole area of his body got more and more slippery from
my juices, it got better and better for me.

Panting with my urgency I reached down and clasped my
hands under his muscled belly and tugged gently, to
indicate that he should raise his ass in the air.
With no hesitation he scrunched forward, as if he
instinctively understood my message, at the same time
pressed his shoulders down into the bed and turned his
handsome face to one side.  All the time he held his
ass cheeks wide apart for my greater pleasure, and now
I couldn't resist the temptation any longer:  I
positioned my dick firmly on his  sphincter, and
pressed forward.  Even a trained slave, one whose ass
must have been host to hundreds of dicks, offers some
resistance to entry, and I had that special joy as my
dick head popped through and his muscles gripped my
shaft.

I fucked him quite hard - well, hard for me. No doubt
he had other men who really slammed into him, and I
don't think that the moans and cries he gave were from
pain, or from pleasure.  In fact, I'm not exactly
certain that he wasn't faking them - but on the other
hand, they were so perfectly in synchronisation with
my own movements in and out of him, that perhaps they
were genuine.

As I've got older, I've found it takes me longer and
longer to cum.  When I was in my early twenties I
barely had to stroke my dick before shooting, and had
I been in a gorgeous ass like this, a few quick
thrusts and it would have been all over.  Nowadays,
though, masturbation is an activity that I could
probably pursue all night, and it takes me a long time
to finally climax when I'm fucking.  The shear
eroticism of the thoughts surging through my brain
about the marking of the slave had evidently fired my
body to special heights, as I felt myself very quickly
start to slip over the edge.  I clasped my hands to
each side of the slave's muscular backside to give
myself more purchase, and my hand of course touched
the indentation of his brand - that was enough!  My
body arched as I thrust home hard and deep, and I gave
a cry of sheer ecstasy as my sperm emptied itself into
him.

Still buried inside his ass, I bent forward so that my
sweat-soaked chest was against his wet, muscular back,
and  dug my nose into the little hollow at the top of
his spine, on his neck, revelling in the sheer
maleness of him..  I was half laughing, half giggling,
as one does after an especially good sexual
experience, and I whispered to him to keep flat on his
front.  I lay there, my body on top of his, just two
men together, two men who have shared that ultimate
delight of sex, and I suppose that to a casual
observer there would be no way of knowing that he was
merely a slave, a slave trained for sexual pleasure,
whereas I was a respected guest of his owner.
Somehow, being naked together and sharing sex removes
the divide between men, doesn't it?  My tastes
generally run to muscular, "blue collar" men, and when
I have managed to lure one of them to my luxury
apartment in London, I'm often surprised how, after
sex, we're able to talk as equals even though I'm
hundreds  of times richer, much better educated, run a
large business empire, and am almost certainly to or
three times more intelligent than my companion.
Truly, sex is the thing that brings men together, I
think, and there would be far less stress and strife
in the world if we put aside our normal concerns in
life and simply related to our fellow me as sexual
beings.

Anyway, after I had finally pulled out of him some
minutes later, I was amazed when he gently turned me
onto my back so that he could crouch over me and
gently clean my dick and balls with his sensuous
prehensile tongue.  It occurred to me that as a
pleasure slave he must come to these assignments
thoroughly cleaned out inside, unless, of course, he'd
been trained to tolerate, or even enjoy, the taste of
his own shit?

Once more lying in each others arms, and with the dawn
still a long time away, I encouraged him to continue
telling me about his life.

THE SLAVE'S STORY

We all wondered what was going to happen to us as we
were led up through the enormous building, with the
furnishings gradually getting to be more and more
opulent.  A door was opened, and we were in a kind of
vestibule, or "butler's pantry" off what was evidently
some kind of banqueting hall, where a banquet was in
full progress.

There must have been at least fifty men in the last
stages of a sumptuous dinner, arranged at tables in a
big open "U", with my owner at the centre of the top
table and another important-looking man sitting next
to him.  The guard made gestures at us to be silent,
as in the centre of the "U", watched intently by the
guests, two young men were giving a virtuoso
demonstration of sex.

These performers were not very tall and heavily
muscled as we were, but  I suppose you could call
them, if you wanted a convenient shorthand,
"swimmers":  lightly muscled, without a trace of fat
of course, about five ten in height.  Again, unlike us
they had hair - maybe that was because they were
evidently both natural blondes, and they had been
allowed to keep their head hair long so that as they
cavorted and performed in front of us it fell around
their shoulders, trailed over each other, and
generally made for additional interest.  You could
see, too, that they had hair in their pits and in
their pubes, although this was not as whitely blond as
their head hair, presumably because it did not get as
much sun.  Their balls were of course shaven, and as
one was bent over the other, we could see that they
were definitely very low-hanging.  They must have been
a few years younger than us - say nineteen - and they
were fucking away with that kind of enthusiasm that
only guys in their teens can still do.

We watched as one reached his climax and pulled out,
and as they stood together for a moment we could see
how alike they were - they must have been identical
twins, as there's just no way that with all their hair
and so on they could otherwise be so similar.  They'd
only paused for a few seconds, and then the second one
began to fuck his brother, who had been fucking him
such a short time before.  Well, you know how
difficult that is, don't you?  I mean, it doesn't
matter how aroused and hard you are when you're
getting together with a guy, once he's fucked you,
your erection just dies away, doesn't it?  But this
young guy seemed to be able to get it up and keep it
up so that he could pound away at his brother just as
his brother had such a short time before.

It was kind of artistic, I suppose - one of the
brothers had his shoulders to the floor but his ass
vertically in the air above that, keeping his balance
with his outstretched arms.  His brother could then
stand upright to get at his ass - no kneeling or
bended knees - and was vigorously fucking with
straight legs.  Actually, it gives the muscles a quite
different "look" as he was going in and out, and all
four of us nodded at each other and decided to give it
a try that night.

Once the two men had finished here was a round of
applause, and then a lull in the conversation made for
a silence in the room.  I heard the second important
guy say something like "See, cousin... Didn't I tell
you? Truly exquisite, don't you think?  As an after
dinner entertainment it was most erotic, but when you
think that these two young men are brothers, brought
up together, living together, and now having to have
sex with each other for our amusement, it adds a new
erotic dimension to it somehow, don't you think?"

Our owner looked at him, and in his strong, clear
voice responded. "Quite so, cousin.  As you say, quite
remarkable as an erotic display, and my friends and I
are most grateful to you for providing us with this
after-dinner diversion.  It certainly is true that the
concept of two brothers performing sex together does
indeed add that little extra frisson of
excitement...."

"So you agree that I have done something unique, and
thus are going to pay out on our bet...?"

"Patience, cousin!  I know we agreed to the wager to
see something exotic and different, but we have not
had my offering yet."

"You couldn't possibly have something more exotic than
identical twin brothers...."

"You are right of course, cousin, that the added
dimension of the men's filial relationship does indeed
make it much more exotic and interesting.  And the two
young men were, as you say, beautiful to watch both in
terms of their bodies, and how they were using them.
But I, too, had a similar idea....."

He clapped his hands, and the guard gestured at us to
go out from behind the screen.  We moved as a bunch to
the centre of the banqueting hall, then, as we'd been
taught, fell to our knees and pressed our foreheads to
the floor in the ritual gesture of obedience to our
master.

"You see, cousin", we heard him say as we knelt there,
our asses in the air, knowing that most of the diners
could see our dicks and balls hanging loose between
our thighs "I too find the concept of sex between
relation to be both exotic and erotic.  Consequently I
scoured the world to find these identical quads -
rather better, and more rare, than even two sets of
identical twins, don't you think?"

His tone changed, and he said "Rise, slaves!", and we
got to our feet and stood there in front of the top
table.  We of  course clasped our hands behind our
necks in the "display" position that all slaves learn,
as it forces your pecs up and out, shows your belly
muscles to their best advantage and, if you thrust
your hips forward, makes you dick display prominently,
too.

"See, cousin - four identical men.  And not only
identical, but rather spectacular, don't you agree?
Of course I was excited to see your two identical
twins, but I think you'll agree that their bodies bear
little comparison to these four?  I suppose that your
two have yet to mature fully - between nineteen and
twenty two, which is what these men are, the body
makes its final stage of growth to full maturity. And,
of course, I have nourished and nurtured these four to
enhance their natural characteristics to present these
four perfect specimens we see today...."

"But cousin, no hair...."

"Quite.  I wanted you to be able to see all their
musculature, without hindrance.  I wanted them to be
totally exposed to you, so that you can inspect them
and verify just how identical they are.  They have
been properly trained as sexual playthings, too, and I
do so hate it when a pleasure slave gets my semen in
his hairs, and that' s a further reason for the
complete absence of adornment.  Anyway, I'm sure you
will agree, cousin, that if two identical twins were
capable of winning our little wager, then four
identical quads scoop the prize? "

"Well, cousin, I have to agree that, as sometimes
happens, you have decisively won our wager. But we did
bet on the most erotic entertainment - producing four
quads is not in itself totally erotic - you may have
found these men and paid them some staggering sum just
to appear naked in front of us.  Many twins and,
indeed, many brothers, are used to being naked in
front of each other.  But being naked with a family
member, and having sexual relations with them, are
quite different things...."

"Indeed, cousin.  But, as I explained, these four have
been trained since I acquired them, as I intend them
to take their place in my pleasure room.  You can of
course, as my guest, avail yourself of them whenever
you wish.  But the night is yet young, so perhaps a
little demonstration of their abilities might amuse
you...."

He clapped his hands again and we knew what was
required of us.  We began to explore each others
bodies, kiss deeply, and then move on to even more
intimate sexual displays. After we had each fucked
another, we ended our "demonstration" by lying in a
perfect square, our heads in a companion's crotch,
licking and cleaning his dick and balls from his semen
and his partner's sweat and ass juice.   We had
rapturous applause following our act, and as we stood
in front of the top table, heads bowed in submission,
I know we all felt secretly pleased at our owner's
triumph.

Our owner and his cousin were clearly long-standing
rivals and this appeared to be the latest in a long
line of friendly wagers, and both men were laughing
and smiling and joining in the applause.  When it died
away, our owner's cousin said "But the night is yet
young and my twins have, I think, recovered - shall we
see an exhibition now of your four and my two... Six
men together is something I think we rarely see...."

And so that was the first time I was fucked by a man
for display.  I'd had my trainers and my "brothers",
of course, but now I stood there, bent at  the waist
with my hands on one of my brother's hips to steady me
and his dick in my mouth, as one of the two young
blond twins pounded away at me whilst his brother
fucked Ray - they kept "time" with each other, pushing
in to us and pulling out in perfect unison.  The four
of us fucked them, as you might expect, and perhaps
they were somewhat inexperienced as they cried out
several times as our dicks went into them - although
maybe it was because they were only used to each
other, and the concept of taking another man's dick
was alien to them.

They were nice lads, though.  After the banquet, they
were put into the same cell as us four top keep them
safe for the night, and we had a lot of fun....."

THE BANKER

I really was inclined to doubt the slave's story.  It
just didn't seem credible that anyone could be fooled
into thinking that four men could be identical quads
when it was only a combination of physical training,
tanning and shaving that had made very similar men
into this foursome.  But the slave assured me that his
owner's cousin had carried out a minute and thorough
inspection, and, he suggested, had "grilled" his twins
the next day to see if anything had been said when all
six were locked up together that night.

He'd remembered the threats of total punishment, he
told me, and so all four of them had never said
anything to the two young blond guys about their
origins.  "Anyway", he added, "with our dicks in their
mouths and up their asses most of the night, there
wasn't a lot of talking done."

Nevertheless, I remained sceptical, and as we talked
on he became more and more voluble in expounding his
point of view, and I told him he'd need to keep his
opinions in check to avoid punishment from men less
tolerant of un-slavelike behaviour than I was.  He
shrugged his shoulders and sort of grimaced, as much
as to say "Believe what you like. That's the way it
is."  Had I not been so pleased with his performance
that night, that very insolent gesture would have been
sufficient to earn him a flogging.

I had further meetings with my host, the Sheikh, the
next day, and in spite of the wonderful experience of
the slave I knew that I ought to rest.  So I made him
turn over on to his side, "spooned" myself against his
lovely muscled rear, put my arm over him and flattened
my hand across his belly, and allowed myself to drift
into sleep.

When I woke, I felt marvellously refreshed from my
night's experiences and my morning erection was
comfortably nestled in the slave's ass crack - a
perfect way to start the day, I always think.  I moved
my hand down his belly, and a brief exploration showed
me that he, too was erect.  He now knew I was awake,
and so gently turned to face me, smiling at me and
wrapping his arms around me as he moved his thigh up
between my legs in the way I have described to you
that I like.

I didn't speak to him, but nudged gently at him to lie
him on his back, raised his feet to his shoulders, and
prepared to fuck him.  He was so well trained that he
at once gripped his ankles, and generally prepared
himself, and I had one more bout of intense,
pleasurable fucking, this time watching the man's
face.  He genuinely was enjoying my attentions, not
"faking it" as I suppose a pleasure slave could.

Afterwards I fell forwards onto him, and he wrapped
his arms and legs around me to hold me snugly in a
gesture of affection that I don't think that slaves
just "doing a job" would bother with.

"So, are all your 'brothers' like this?  All such good
fucks?  All so much fun in bed?"

"Well, yes, sir.  We're all good fucks.  But 'fun' is
in the mind of the other guy, sir: you'd have to make
up your mind about that.  Are you having fun now sir?"

"Oh yes, slave.... Assuredly I am.  You're a great guy
to be with...."

I leaned forward to kiss him, and he responded
hungrily.  I just couldn't resist going to playfully
tweak his nipple, as I again wanted to feel his body
buck under mine and his tongue spasm as he went
through those automatic reactions he'd shown me
earlier in the night.

But he just moaned!  One of his hands came down on top
of mine, and he kind of encouraged me to carry on
playing with his tit!  A horrible suspicion started to
dawn on me.... I rolled off him, sat bolt upright, and
commanded him to kneel in front of me and spread his
ass cheeks.  He had a different inventory number!

"Who are you?", I snapped.  "I think the slave earlier
tonight was called Steve. You're not Steve, are you?"

The man began to look alarmed.  "Please, sir, please
don't be angry with us.  We meant well, sir.  We
wanted to amuse you, sir.  You'd told Steve that you
didn't believe anyone could be fooled by us being
alike, but not identical, and we thought we'd play a
little practical joke on you, sir.  When you drifted
off to sleep, I crept into the room and changed places
with Steve.  I'm his buddy Marc, sir."

I began to laugh at the deception these two had
decided to play.  "You're the Marc who always gets
caned and tawsed more than the others, as you like to
push things...."

"Yes, sir.  I'm sorry, sir.  Steve is lurking in the
bathroom, sir, we can swap back...."

"Yes!  Get in here, slave!"

The other slave came out of the bathroom, and he too
was looking worried.  He fell to his knees by the bed,
and began to beg me to be merciful as they had meant
no harm."

"Get in here, Steve!", I commanded him, and then had
one of the most erotic experiences I have ever had - I
was sandwiched between two handsome, muscled men, men
of the kind I fantasise about.  As I've told you, it's
difficult for an older man like me, even though he's
rich, intelligent and in fair shape, to get young
studs to appreciate him.  And now here I was, nestled
between two of them, my arms around their necks, and
one of my legs casually sprawled across one of their
crotches.

"Right, you two... I'm not cross.  It was a joke,
after all.  And it almost worked!  If I hadn't
discovered that Steve has unbelievably sensitive
nipples...."  As I spoke, I let my hand creep over
Steve's pec, and I could feel the tension building in
his body.  Then my fingers darted to his nip, and he
convulsed - throwing his hips in the air, and shouting
"Please, no, sir..."

All three of us were helpless with laughter then as we
lay there, and Marc said "So you found out his secret,
sir... We all have a lot of fun pretending to go for
Steve's nips.  As you can see, they could exercise him
without needing to make him run - they could just keep
tweaking him, and his body would get all the exercise
it needs!"

I'd have loved to stay in bed all morning with the two
handsome men, but it was now dawn and I simply had to
get up for my business meeting with the Sheikh.  They
stayed on to help me bathe, then actually shaved me as
I lay on a chair in the big marble bathroom.  As Steve
(or was it Marc?) said, they were well used to using a
razor on another man; and, indeed, I had one of the
best shaves I've ever had.  They helped me dress, too,
and it felt odd to have another man knotting my Hermes
tie so well; and it was especially erotic to be
standing there, dressed, with these two naked hunks.
Somehow the contrast between me in my lightweight silk
business suit and them in their virile naked glory
added to the whole experience in a way that was just
different from myself being naked with them.

End Of Part Four