Date: Wed, 27 Oct 2004 07:51:55 -0700 (PDT)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: Four The Same, Part 6

FOUR THE SAME    by Pete Brown    petebrownuk @
yahoo.com

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

Part Six

I don't know how I got through the rest of the
evening.  Although the Sheikh's conversation is always
stimulating and interesting (and he is an important
client and supporter of me, and I would anyway need to
remain involved with what he was saying), the thought
of the young skater or, should I say, the young
skater's body) kept intruding into my brain.  As I've
told you, young lads like this do not interest me
usually, but there was something different here:  was
it his capture and enslavement?  Was it his forced
stripping so that he had no choice but to appear naked
in front of us?  Or the caning, and the exciting marks
it left on his body?  Or perhaps it was a little more
prosaic - I was in a state of high sexual excitement
because of the four perfect specimens, and seeing the
contrast between their tanned, completely hairless,
muscular bodies and the lad's pale as yet to fully
develop musculature, and his newly-grown pubic hair,
made the whole experience somehow more erotic.

There was also the fact that his lad was now my slave,
my very own property.  I had of course never owned a
slave before, never had that complete and total
mastery over the body and the life of another man.  It
seemed at once faintly ridiculous, so out of line with
my normal life experience, and yet at the same time so
totally arousing:  I could do whatever I wanted with
this lad, could order him to perform sexually for me,
could have him punished, and even castrated if  I so
chose.  The more I thought about it the more I
realised it was the ultimate in power - I thought I
controlled things at the bank, making decisions that
affected the financial well-being of millions, but now
I had the reality of power, total and utter power,
over the life and body of another man.

My host, ever the perfect gentleman, was sensitive to
my thoughts and drew our evening to an early close,
remarking that he could see that my mind was elsewhere
for much of the time.  From the way he said it, the
twinkle in his eye, and that age-old gesture that one
man makes to another when he knows his companion is
off to fuck, I knew he was amused by my predicament
and not upset by it.

Indeed, I did see a difficult dilemma looming in front
of me.  My whole body was ready for sex, hard,
dominant, rough sex.  I had been at full erection most
of the evening ,and there was that ache in my penis
and balls that you only get when you have denied them
their legitimate release for several hours.  The lad
was a gift to me from my benefactor and most important
client, the Sheikh, and I knew it was expected of me
that I should make full use of him:  anything else
could be seen by the Sheikh as an insult.  On the
other hand the lad was only sixteen, much too young
for my general sexual preferences.  I did not fear the
legal consequences of any action I might take, as here
in his country it was the Sheikh who made and enforced
the laws, and, anyway, even back in London it is no
longer a crime to fuck a sixteen year old since the
age of consent for men and women had been harmonised.
So what should I do?   The lad was clearly a virgin,
and judging from his immoderate use of language,
calling the Sheikh and me "perverts", probably had a
warped attitude towards sex with men.  You would have
thought that a young man of sixteen would have been
looking forward to sex, but I did not think that this
was the case here. I was excited by the thought of
taking a man's virginity, something I had never done
before, but suspected that it might be difficult,
especially with a partner who was as unwilling as this
lad seemed to be.

Every nerve and sinew in my body was shrieking at me
to take my pleasure from the lad, as it would be a
uniquely erotic experience to fuck an unwilling virgin
 slave, someone that I owned; but some calmer part of
my brain was still trying to overcome a lifetime's
inhibitions.  As I thought on, I started to think
about the lad himself - he must be scared, no,
terrified, after being taken from the streets of
London and brought here, made to strip, and then
subjected to the harsh caning.  If I didn't now
acknowledge my ownership of him and treat him as my
slave, what would become of him?  The Sheikh would
presumably take back his gift, and then the lad would
become a general slave, and who knows what would then
become of such as handsome young body?  What was
certain was that he was never going to be returned to
London, as he had already seen and experienced too
much already.

I can't pretend that this was an exhaustive rehearsal
of all the factors affecting my decision, and it's
probable that the strident demands of my body played a
disproportionate part in my reaching my conclusion.
Clearly, it seemed to me, the lad's best interests
were going to be served by having me as his owner,
rather than in entering the general pool of the
Sheikh's slaves, and that both he and I needed to
acknowledge this relationship in the traditional way:
he must submit to my usage of him tonight as my fuck
toy.  I doubted that the lad would understand that I
was concerned for his future, even were I to explain
it to him.  His hysterical attitude even to stripping
in front of us - he had, after all, no need to be
concerned or embarrassed, possessing as he did such a
charming young man's body - presumably meant that he
would vigorously resist his first real experience of
proper sex (I didn't doubt that, even before sixteen,
as a youth in East London he would have had many
sexual adventures with silly young girls).

No, I could see now where my duty lay, and as I
mounted the wide marble staircase towards my bedroom
suite my body responded with renewed enthusiasm:  my
cock was simply aching as it strained for release from
my underwear, and I experienced that wonderful feeling
of knowing that all the palace servants and slaves
that I passed would see the enormous bulge on the
front of my conservatively cut business suit, and know
that I was a man, a man on his way to do what every
man needs to do.

In the bedroom the four identical slaves were waiting
for me, all bowed down and salaaming to me as I
entered the room.  The young lad was just standing
there, naked as they were, and in that way that some
people do when they are nervous or slightly afraid, he
had his genitals covered by his hands.  Trying to do
this means that you have to hunch your shoulders a
little, and the slightly bowed stance he was therefore
adopting made him look rather like a pathetic stray.

"Please....", he started as soon as he saw mw.
"Please... Help me, get me out of here.... I don't
know what's happened...."

"You were brought here to atone for your crimes, boy.
You knocked me over in the street, remember?  Then you
stood there laughing at me and badmouthing me, rather
than trying to help.  My friend the Sheikh, who you
just met, heard a bout this and decided that you
needed punishment.  That's why you're here...."

"But I didn't mean any harm by it.  Please help me to
get back to London..."

"I don't think that's going to happen.  It may be
possible to get a message to your parents, telling
them not to worry about you as you have decided to
travel around the world, or something.  But as for
physically going back, now that you've been brought
here and stripped... Well, that's not really possible,
is it?  Think of what the papers would say if you told
them..."

"No, I wouldn't, honest..."

"Look, boy, we simply can't take the risk of believing
 you.  You didn't behave well before,  so why should
you do so now.  So let's just send the message to your
parents, and stop them worrying.  They will at least
know you're alive. .... What's your name, anyway?"

"Darren.... But it's no good sending a message.  No
one cares.  My mom died when I was eight, and my
step-dad didn't care.  I live with my aunt and uncle,
and they're about to throw me out as I'm sixteen as
they don't care for me either.... But I've got to get
back... I can't stay here...."

"Well I'm afraid you don't have much choice, Darren.
You see the Sheikh will never let you go. I'm afraid
you'll be living here for the rest of your life, like
these men...."  I gestured at the four identical naked
slaves, still kneeling there, their foreheads touching
the ground, as I hadn't given them permission to rise
from their salaam.

"So why don't you be a good lad", I went on, "And come
over here and let me have a good look at you.  The
Sheikh has given you to me as a present, you k now..."

"You're mad.... You can't give people away.  I'm not
some sort of animal...."

"Oh yes you are, Darren!  From the moment you were
taken, your life as you knew it is over.  The Sheikh
exercises the ultimate in power:  he has total and
utter control over the slaves here in his palace.
It's something that even the richest men in the world
can't usually buy - although he is one of them - but
here, in his kingdom, he has complete and utter
control and authority.  You saw how he had you brought
here, and how he had you stripped.  Look at these four
men kneeling here in front of me - I'm told that not
so long ago they were all free men, as you still think
of yourself.  And now look at them - naked, kneeling
in humble obedience to me.... "

"No..."

"Yes, Darren.  And the sooner you learn to accept it,
the better.  You've already felt a few strokes of the
Sheikh's cane - that's one of the lightest physical
punishments that can be ordered for you here.  The
Sheikh is not a cruel man, but he does insist on total
and utter obedience from his slaves, and the sooner
you understand - and accept - that, the better your
life is going to be for you."  Turning to the four
identical slaves, I continued "Get up... and prepare a
bath  for me..."

The men scurried to obey, and I saw the young Darren
looking at them as they glided around the room.

"See?   Those four were free, just as you were .  But
the Sheikh wanted four clones, so his men scoured the
globe to find these men with near-identical bodies....
Then they were exercised to perfection, shaved,
oiled.... You can't tell them apart, can you?"

The boy didn't a answer me, but ran to the door of the
chamber shouting "I'm fucking out of here, clothes or
no clothes...."

One of the slaves casually reached out  as the lad
rushed past, and put his strong, bronzed arm around
the young lad's waist, picked him up off the ground
and carried him, arms and legs flailing futilely in a
vain attempt to free himself from the man's grasp,
back  to hold him in front of me.  The slave was
grinning as his superior strength held the wriggling
naked body against him, and I supposed that he was
enjoying it - he was demonstrating to me the power and
strength of his body, and at the same time having the
naked flesh of the lithe youth constantly  squirming
against him could not have been unpleasant.

"Now, Darren, do you start to see what I mean?  There
is no escape for you.  Now, are you going to start to
behave, start to act like a slave, or..."

"Fuck you... Fuck you all..."

"Darren, I'm sorry for having to do this, but it's for
your own good.  You need to learn that you need to
obey, and behave properly.  You need to learn it now,
before you do something really stupid and so annoy the
Sheikh that he orders some very permanent punishment
for you....  Now,  I'll give you one last chance.  If
I order the slave to let you go, will you get down on
your knees and touch your head to the floor as you saw
them doing earlier? .... It's called making a
'salaam', and it's a sign of respect and obedience to
your master...."

"No way! Fuck you!"

I really did feel sorry for Darren, that he was too
stupid to see that his best course of action would
have been to obey me.  So I told the slave to take the
lad over to the bed, put him across his knee, and
spank him!

It was hugely erotic, and my straining erection simply
couldn't get any firmer.  I could almost feel the
trickles of pre-cum oozing out of me and making my
underclothes wet as I watched the slave obey my order.
 The sight of the big, tough, muscled man with his
deeply tanned skin carrying the young slim lad across
the room was in it self a treat:  the slave scooped
Darren up off the floor and simply threw him over his
shoulder.  The contrast between the milky white skin
of the boy and the deep tan of the slave was almost
unbelievable, but to see the young lad so helpless as
his body sprawled down the corded back of the slave
made an unforgettable sight.  The young lad's buttocks
were on the shoulders of the slave, and I imagined how
it must feel to have the lad's cock and balls pressing
into the hard muscle of the slave.

My reverie was soon over, though, as the slave sat,
almost primly, back bolt upright, on the edge of the
huge bed and simply flipped the boy's body down and
across his knees.  Now I knew that the lad's cock must
be in contact with the slave's, and I felt as if I
might have an involuntary ejaculation as I watched the
boy squirming and wriggling as he tried to escape from
this humiliating position - a futile gesture, as the
slave's big hand was holding him firmly in place by
grasping his neck.

"How many strokes, master?"  The slave asked me.  He
had a deep, manly voice, the whole timbre of which
served to emphasise his raw masculinity.

"Four.  Two on each buttock", I replied, almost
laughing.  It's not that I like inflicting pain on
others, and, as I've told you, this really was in the
lad's best interests.  And, anyway, a few hard slaps
to the buttocks might hurt the lad at the time, and
might sting for an hour or so, but there wouldn't be
any permanent damage to him - except to his pride!
There was far more risk to him in continuing with his
wild, undisciplined ways and then getting a severe
caning, or perhaps even a whipping:  both of those
might mark him permanently.  No, I could smile at his
discomfort, and at the pleasure he was bringing to me,
as his young, naked innocence was displayed so
erotically for me.

The sound of the blows ricocheted around the room.
Each time the slave raised his arm and brought it down
there was that really satisfying "slap" sound as the
palm of the hand strikes the firm flesh of the
buttocks, followed by a shout from the boy.  It wasn't
a shout of pain, really, more one of outrage, and
shock, and I started to laugh.  I carried on laughing
as the slave then stood up, tipping the lad to the
floor at his feet.  Darren looked up at me, and he had
a look of mixd fear, rage and loathing on his face.
He started to shout  "You fucker, I'll..."

"Silence!  Or shall I order the slave to give you for
more, or perhaps even eight, or twelve?"

He went silent instantly.  Perhaps he was beginning to
learn the first elements of obedience.  Or perhaps he
had a bit of common sense.  He continued to glare at
me, though, and I said in a conversational voice "Stay
there.  You can't get out anyway, as there is a guard
outside the door who would not allow you to leave.
I'm going to have a bath now, as I've had a long,
tiring day, and when I'm done, we'll continue your
education.  Don't say one more word, unless you want a
further spanking...."

He seemed to comply, at least for the moment, and I
told the slave to stay with him and to not let him do
anything foolish.  I then had a long, luxurious bath -
"only" having three bath attendants was not a huge
problem for me, and they were so skilled and expert.
Their expertise and professionalism as they bathed me
showed in that even though I continued to have a
raging erection with my thoughts about what was going
to happen to the boy, they did not do anything to make
me cum.  They did, of course, ask if I wanted to use
any of them for sex, but when I indicated that I was
"saving" myself for later, they used the utmost
delicacy of touch to ensure that there was no
"accident".  One of them was in the huge bath with me
and I sat between his legs, resting backwards against
his naked body as he languorously soaped my chest and
genitals , and the other two knelt beside us,
shampooing my hair, gently lifting first one leg and
then the other out of the water so that they could
wash them, and so on.

There's something very special about having naked
bodies next to you in water, isn't there?  The slave
behind me felt so delightfully slippery and warm, and
as we lay there  I also felt his erect penis between
my thighs - I was kind of sitting in his lap, and the
way that his solid, warm member was caressing the
sensitive area around my anus and under my balls was
totally exciting.  I'm not one to take a man's penis
normally, as I am, by nature, a dominant "top" during
sex.  But a little light stimulation like this was
entirely agreeable.

I've told you that my preferred type of sexual partner
is the big, solid, muscular "blue collar" type, and
I'm often both excited and embarrassed when I am naked
with a man like that:  excited, as I am looking
forward to a bout of intense sex, and embarrassed
because of my body.  Although I've always kept in
reasonably in shape, and take care not to overeat and
so on, I am sixty:  there's no way that the body of a
sixty year old can really bear comparison with that of
a stud in his late twenties or thirties, and so I have
learned to endure the somewhat pitying looks that
sometimes cross the faces of the men I go with.  But
these three slaves, as they ministered to me in the
bath, were different:  it was as if they not only
respected my body, but, in a way, worshipped it.
There was not even the faintest idea that it might be
anything less than perfect as far as they were
concerned, and I began to understand how complete the
Sheikh's training of his pleasure slaves must be.
Young men like this, with perfect bodies, could be
taught to revere another man's body which, in absolute
terms, made a poor comparison with theirs.  But
because it belonged to a master, and they were slaves,
they needed to show proper respect and consideration
for it  and treat I as if it was one of the most
precious things in the world.

I strode confidently from the bathroom when the slaves
had gently towelled me dry, not even bothering to put
on a robe as I might normally do, so confident was I
that these men respected me for what I was.   My cock
was bouncing up and down in front of me as I made my
way across the huge room, its motion adding to my
sense of excitement.  I stopped in front of the fourth
slave and the boy Darren, and stood there looking down
at him.

As I'd been bathing I'd been wondering how I should
proceed.  There was no way that I could assist the lad
to his freedom, so it seemed to me that the best thing
I could do for him was to get him as quickly as
possible into a state of ready and complete acceptance
of his new role as a slave - my slave!    I suppose I
could have done this by a careful and prolonged
programme of giving him orders, and punishing him
physically when he refused to obey, or even hesitated,
but I would not be there to oversee this operation
Some quicker, more positive way of reinforcing  his
new status was needed for the lad, and so I had
decided that I should take his virginity:  .   A boy
who is "taken" by his master almost instantly learns
something about power and control and dominance, and I
perceived this was what young Darren needed to bring
order to his life.  My conscience troubled me for a
few moments as I do not like breaking the law - well,
as a banker, I need to respect the rules and
restrictions that society imposes on us, don't I?
Bankers are noted for their sobriety and probity, and
forcibly taking a boy's virginity is not the sort of
thing normally associated with them, and it would
certainly cause a scandal if I was ever discovered and
reported in our country's gutter press.  However it
wasn't really a crime:  he was, by his own admission,
over sixteen, and so sex with him was no longer
forbidden.  And, I suppose, he was , after all, my
property!  If a man cannot use his own property for
his own pleasure in the privacy of his own bedroom,
then what is the point of an elaborate system of
"property rights" at all?   No, what I planned to do
was not illegal, and, the more I thought about it,
there did not even seem to be any moral objection:
the slave had been given to me, and, he needed
training, and training fast, in his own best
interests.

He was still lying there on the carpet, with the big
slave standing over him.  He looked up at me, and I
knew he couldn't have failed to notice my erection as
my cock as directly above him.  A kind of sneer came
across his face, and he went to speak.

"Say nothing, unless you'd like to be spanked again,
Darren.  Now, get up, and go and lie on the bed on
your stomach - keep your feet on the ground, and just
let that ass of yours hang over the end."

"No..."

"Do as I say!  I don't want to have to have you
punished, but I will.  Now, get over onto the bed...."

I saw then that I had made the first step to breaking
him.  I am used to being in authority and when I issue
orders my tone of voice changes subtly so that my
staff always know when I am to
be obeyed.  Even though I was here, naked and erect,
with the young lad and the big slave naked in front of
me, and not in my normal office environment,  there
was no difference:  I was in control, and my voice, as
well as the words I was using, made that clear.

I watched as the slim, white, lithe body scrambled to
its feet, then went, albeit somewhat reluctantly, to
the bed.

The bed was covered with a shiny silk counterpane in a
dark yellow colour, and his body made a nice contrast
with it.  I went and stood between his legs, and
looked down at the slender form - I could see that he
was going to be a real beauty when he was fully
matured as the underlying musculature, although still
not properly developed, was perfect:  he had those
wide shoulders tapering down to a slim waist, and a
most pleasing rounded ass.  He had long legs - always
an asset on a man, I think, as it gives a young guy
that look of a "colt", ready to race away.

He held his feet almost together and his ass was
raised high in the air .  I kicked his feet apart, and
he grunted and half protested as I did so, so I gave
him a quick slap across the ass.  There's always
something about spreading a man's legs with your feet,
I think, and this occasion was no exception:  it's one
of the preliminaries to fucking, and so it's always
imbued with a certain sense of expectancy.  Gently
punishing him for his small show of resistance only
added to my excitement on this occasion.

I bent forward, put one hand  on each of his buttocks
- enticingly warm and glowing red from where he had
been spanked - and putting my thumbs together into his
ass crack, gently pushed his muscles apart.

"No...", he moaned, and I had to say "Silence.....",
although I did it with a low, authoritative tone of
voice, rather than a harsh command.  I did not want to
startle or scare the lad  too much at this point as I
knew he was going to find what was to come to be
traumatic anyway, and did not want him to suffer
unnecessarily.

Now his legs were spread and his cheeks apart I could
see his hole - tender and pink against the milky
whiteness of his skin, and neatly fringed with his
raven black hair.  From there, the hairs led to his
ball sac, which was hanging low and obscuring the view
of his penis which, I suppose, must have been pressed
into the bed.  The sac was covered in his wiry hair,
and I  decided that, like all the other slaves in the
palace, having that shaved smooth would be a good
idea, even though I would postpone a decision on what
to do about the rest of his hair.  Actually, I like to
see a man with a good patch of hair around his pubes,
and find body hair generally very erotic:  it's one of
the things that distinguishes being  in bed with a man
from being with a woman, isn't it?  On the other hand,
hair around the ass hole can make for very messy sex,
and it's also much more difficult to really "grasp" a
man's balls when they're covered in hair.  Personally
I wouldn't go as far as the sheikh in having the four
slaves totally smooth all over - I understood, of
course, why it had been done, and these men were still
wildly erotically exciting to me -  but they would
have been simply irresistible had it been possible
just to shave their holes and balls, and give the rest
of their pubic hair just a neat trim and "tidy up"
generally.

Still, the boy was as he was, at least for the time
being, and I shuffled forward so that the tip of my
cock made contact with the tender warmth of his body.
He moaned another "No....", and I had to remind him
again to remain silent.  I could see all the muscles
in his back tensing as I began to very gently run the
tip of my cock up and down the silky warmth of his ass
crack, still help apart by my thumbs, and every time I
gently nudged at hi s hole, both of us seemed to know
it was something special - he let out a low moan and
moved his hips slightly against the silk bed cover,
and I felt an almost electric thrill run up from my
cock head to my brain.

Even after the long period of arousal that I had
experienced  I was still leaking - no, almost spurting
- pre-cum, and gradually, as I carried on massaging
the lad's ass, it became shiny and slimy with my
fluid.  Finally I rested the tip of my cock against
his hole, and simply allowed my juices to run out.

I leaned forward and whispered - I always whisper at
times like this, as it somehow seems to make the
experience so much more intimate - "Have you enjoyed
a man before, Darren?  Have you and your friends
played with each other, enjoyed the feeling of one
hard cock against another?

His reply was half muffled by the counterpane as his
face was half buried in it.  "No! I'm not a fag!  I
don't do stuff like that.... It's disgusting... Let me
go, pervert...!"

"Sssshhh.... Easy, Darren.... Now, just relax.  This
is your first time, and the first time can be painful,
but you'll want to remember it.  It's a very special
experience when one man first has sex with another,
and you ought to file this away in your brain.  You'll
no doubt have many, many more men use your body in
your life, but I'm the first, and this is special..."

I'd wondered whether I ought to have massaged the
delicate tissues of his anus to stretch and relax him
first, as one normally does with any sex partner, but
the thought of taking a virgin hole, one that had
never experienced a cock, or even a finger, was simply
one which I could not spoil.  There was masses of my
pre-cum now smeared all over my cock head and Darren's
sphincter, and this would simply have to do.    I
leaned forward slightly, feeling the tip of my cock
head starting to flatten as it nudged persistently at
the crinkled flesh of the boy's hole, and he started
to make murmurs of protest again, and to kind of
wriggle his body more onto the bed, as if to escape
me.

I reached down and put my hands around his waist, both
to steady myself and to stop him moving, and the
feeling of his firm flesh under my finger tips just
added to the erotic sensations already threatening to
totally overwhelm my brain.  I pushed harder, the boy
groaned, but could not move, and so I pushed harder
still.  It's a wonder that my cock did not bend in the
middle, as it can so easily do if a there is some
resistance to entry, but on this occasion I think I
was so totally and completely turned on that there was
no question of this happening. It was as if my cock
had been turned into a solid shaft of steel, and I
pushed again, this time more insistently.

I actually felt his sphincter opening, actually got
the sensation of his hole dilating to allow the thick
meaty head of my cock into him.  He was groaning,
almost whimpering, as infinitely slowly - and with
commendable restraint, I think, given my state of
arousal - I continued to push so gently into him.
Then there that little sudden forward motion, that
frisson of pure sensation that runs through you as a
man's hole closes slightly after the flange of your
cock head has gone through; now his muscles were
gripping the shaft of my cock with moist, warm,
eroticism.

I stood there, with just my cock head inside him, and
after a few moments satisfaction from contemplating my
breach of his defences, I started to gently, very
gently, slide forward.  The lad continued to groan and
whimper  as I did this, and I continued to press down
on his waist, at the same time giving little
"Ssshhh..." and "Easy....." noises, to help calm and
reassure him.
I carried on, until my thighs were hard up against the
very warm flesh of his buttocks and my pubic hair was
flattened against him.

There's no doubt about it - there is some special,
additional pleasure that you get when you know you are
the first.  No other cock had ever been where mine was
now.  I was the first man to experience this lad, the
first to feel his flesh in such totally intimate
contact with mine.  I've had lots of men during my
life, but this is the first time I'd even taken a
young man's virginity, and it felt good ;  no, it felt
marvellous.  The tightness, the warmth, the
"innocence" is perhaps the best way  I can put it....
all combined to make this a truly memorable occasion.

I think I could probably have cum just from standing
there and thinking about the sheer eroticism of the
situation, but somehow I felt I owed it to Darren to
give him the full experience.  I know it sounds silly,
as I should have been thinking only of myself, but
somehow I wanted the lad to enjoy it too.  It just
shows that I'm getting a little sentimental in my
later years;  or, perhaps, I have not yet begun to
fully think and behave as a slave owner!

So I started to pull out - very, very gently, as I did
not want to hurt the lad unnecessarily, and to try to
preserve myself from cumming for as  long as possible.
 Once my cock head felt as if it was about to pop out,
I pushed back in gently again, and I could feel, and
hear, Darren responding.  His moaning was in
synchronisation with my movements, and there were
shivers of pleasure running through his muscles that
conveyed themselves up my arms to me.

I'd have liked to fuck him long and hard - well,
that's what I usually do to the big, husky types that
I attract into my bed.  They seem to appreciate having
another man slamming into them with force, and it does
tend to go on for a long time as, at my age, the
"instant ejaculation" is a thing of the past!  But
both of these things were untrue this time - I wanted
to be slow and gentle, but I didn't have much time to
enjoy it!  I could barely have pushed in and out of
him six times when I felt that incredible sensation of
starting to cum - my heart raced, my body arched, my
balls contracted, and I stood there, buried in
Darren's thin, white buttocks, as I pumped my seed up
into him, where no man had ever gone before.

I fell forward onto him, my cock still buried up to
its hilt, and pressed my body all along his, revelling
in the moist heat from his smooth skin as I gently
rubbed my hairy body against it.  My face was right up
beside his head, and I nuzzled the back of his neck,
pushing aside his long skater's hair and revelling in
that special man smell of fresh sweat.  He seemed to
be sobbing gently to himself, and I whispered right
into his ear "There, that's all over now.  You're a
proper man now, Darren.  You've had your first
experience of real sex...."

"Bastard!", he kind of muttered. "It's not my first
sex.  I've been fucking my girlfriend for eighteen
months..."

"I said your first experience of real sex, Darren.
What you did with your girlfriends is just the prelude
to breeding!  What men do together like this is proper
sex, sex just for the joy of two men being together,
of using each others bodies."

"Fuck you... I'm not gay..."

"No, Darren.  Not 'fuck me' - it's you who's going to
get fucked, over and over again.  You're my slave,
remember?  I own you.  And I like sex with men.  I
usually fuck big strong men like these four slaves you
see around you.  But now I've experienced your virgin
hole, you can be sure that this will not be the last
time.... Come on.... Admit it, though, you liked it,
didn't you...?"

"No!  I like proper fucking...."

"Oh Darren, you can say what you like, but I can tell.
 Your body betrayed you - those gasps and sighs as I
ploughed in and out of you, the way you moved....."

I gently pulled myself out of him, stood up, and
pushed him to one side. "Look", I went on, pointing to
the bed, "There's the proof....  You were excited by
it, and you've been leaking pre-cum all over the
bed..."

I think I saw the boy blush slightly, but now
something else attracted my attention:  the pungent
smell of the boy's shit on my dick, as I stood there.


"Clean us up!", I called to the four slaves, and one
of the big men fell to his knees in front of me, put
his hands around my ass to steady me, and went to
start licking at my dick.  So perfect was his training
that he was quite prepared to worship my cock with his
tongue, even though it was covered in another man's
excrement.

"No!  Get a cloth.  The boy wasn't cleaned out first,
and I don't want your mouth tasting of his shit in
case I want to use it later in the night...."

The slave rose to his feet in a smooth gesture, and
even as I spoke, one of his fellows, carrying a moist
wash cloth from the bathroom, dropped down in his
place and started to gently wipe me clean.  As I stood
there, enjoying the sensation of his ministrations,
another of his companions was gently pushing the lad's
buttocks apart and wiping him clean with another
cloth.

I gestured to the slaves and they pulled the
counterpane down for me, and  I slipped between the
smooth, cool pure linen sheets. Then I beckoned with
my arm for Darren to join me.

"No...", he started to say, but he then noticed the
look in my eyes, and thought better of it.  He slipped
into the bed and tried to keep his body away from
mine, but I put my arm around him and pulled him
towards me.  A the same time I beckoned to one of the
slaves, who got into the bed on the other side of him
from me, and used his body to further nudge the lad
towards me.

I put my arm around Darren's neck, so that his head
was cradled against me, put my other arm around him in
a gesture of comfort, and raised my thigh up between
his legs so  I could feel the warmth of his hole and
his balls against me.

"There... That wasn't so bad, was it.... Your first
proper sex.  Now, is this the first time you've ever
cuddled another man in bed?"

"Yes.  I hate it.  It's not right...."

"Darren, you've got to learn not to lie to me, your
master!  I can have any of these slaves spank you
again, you know... Now, it's not that bad, is it?  If
you dislike it so much, why is your cock so hard?"

It was true - his cock was ramrod rigid, and squeezed
up between us.  I could feel its heat against my
belly, and I reached down and gently teased the tip of
it - his foreskin had retracted, I noted, and his cock
head was already slimy with his pre-cum, pre-cum which
was also slicking my belly.

I started to tease his cock, putting my palm over it
and pressing it against my belly, and he tried to pull
away, but the slave, pressed close to his back,
prevented this.  It was so erotic - the warmth of the
smooth boy against me, the sensation of playing with
his cock, and the knowledge that he was experiencing
the muscled slave pressed up against him - this was
almost certainly the first time the lad had been the
filling in a "man sandwich!".

I felt so envious of him, to be introduced to sex in
this way - I'd had to spend long months agonising
about how to approach another guy, then worrying that
I might not do the right thing once I'd made a date,
then desperate to be seen to know what  I was doing,
even though I'd only read about it in books.... And
here was Darren, handed it all on a plate!  He'd had
to do nothing, and I'd given him a fantastic first
experience;  and now here he was in that most enviable
of positions, with two real men pressing in to either
side of him.

He was wriggling slightly, and the hairs on my thigh
thrilled as his balls gently scraped backwards and
forwards over them, and I carried on teasing his cock
head.  The inevitable happened, of course, and his
whole body stiffened as he moaned "No... No.....", and
shot his cum all over me.

I pulled him even closer to me, and rubbed up and down
so that his cum spread all over my pubes and belly,
and all over him.  That utterly delightful smell of
cum, overlain with sweat, wafted up the bed towards us
and assailed our nostrils.

"No...", he carried on moaning and tried to pull  back
from me, and I knew that I'd got one of those men
whose cock is terribly sensitive after he's cum.  I
smiled at his slight discomfiture, but stopped
fondling him, and we lay there, almost stuck together
by the drying cum, feeling the beat of our hearts as
we pressed close.

"There.... That wasn't so bad, was it....?"

I could see a faint smile on his face, even though he
tried to look stern, or disgusted.

"There", I continued.  "Now I've fucked you, and
you've cum.... We could just go to sleep now, but I
want to see how you react to another fucking....."

I pulled my thigh down from between his legs, and said
to the slave who was pressed up against his back "Fuck
him... On his side, and be gentle!"

End Of Part Six