Date: Tue, 12 Jan 2016 20:21:59 +0000 (UTC)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: Passing - Part Fifteen

PASSING
A story by Pete Brown  (petebrownuk@yahoo.com)

Part  Fifteen     Caged and sold!  Reconciliation. Fucking Tim. Revelations
about Dave.


I went back to my flat after lunch to see how Jason was getting on, to
review what he had done so far (and "encourage" him with the thrasher if he
appeared to have been idling), and to set out new things I needed to know
now that I had more information about slaving.  I also needed to make sure
Greg was keeping up to scratch too.

By early evening though I was ready to go back to Dave's Slaves, as now
that Dave and I were partners I was really looking forward to spending time
with him and even spending the night with him.

We went in to Dave's private rooms and we stood there, kissing.
Passionately.  He pulled my polo out of my waistband, and up over my head,
and nipped playfully at that soft area under my armpit as he did so,
causing me to squirm and laugh and try to pull away for a moment. Then he
whispered in my ear, kind of nibbling it a bit so sexily as he did so "Put
your hands behind your back for a moment...."

I did as I was told, thrilling at the idea of what he might be planning and
feeling my cock start to stiffen.  Then there was something around one
wrist, and then the other. I went to move my hands and found they were
cuffed together!  It still seemed exciting, and I really wondered what
sexual games Dave had in mind, as he reached down and undid my belt and
jeans, and pushed them and my underwear down to the floor.  He knelt to
pull off my shoes and socks, and get my underwear and jeans over my bare
feet, so that I was then standing there totally naked.  My cock was fully
erect now as it really was arousing to be there naked, when Dave was
clothed.  And with the cuffs on there was no doubt he was in charge.

His mood changed abruptly, and he grabbed hold of my cock and began to pull
me towards the door.  It wasn't very comfortable, having my cock used as
some sort of handle, and I told him to be careful.  "Shut the fuck up!" he
rapped back.

"Hey, no need to be like that.  I only asked you to be careful as it's my
cock, you know...."

I almost fell over with surprise as I jerked forward as he slapped my bum,
hard.  Now it was my time to shout "What the fuck..."

Dave seemed to pay absolutely no attention as he half marched, half pulled
me along behind him, out from his private quarters and towards the slave
operations area.  I was getting really angry now and shouting at him to
stop being so fucking stupid and to let me go, but he paid no attention.

We went along the corridor between the slave holding cells - and I was at
least glad to see that he had, as I'd told him to, got rid of the females.
But then, at the end of cages with the few pathetic males, he opened a cell
door, let go of my cock, pushed me in, and slammed the door.

"What the fuck...", I screamed at him now.

He was icily calm.  "I told you to shut up.  And I don't allow foul
language in here.  Now, turn your back to the bars so I can undo those
cuffs, unless you want to stay in them all night."

"What the fuck... All night...?"

"Perhaps you hadn't noticed, but you're in the holding cages for my stock.
This is where I keep slaves for sale, and I don't have a buyer coming in to
look you over until tomorrow."

"What the fuck...?"

"I told you to remain silent.  Now present your wrists to the bars so I can
unlock you, or stay cuffed.  I don't care, but I think you will."

I did as he said as the cuffs were uncomfortable, then stood there looking
out at him, rubbing my wrists as they were sore even after that short time
of being cuffed.  "Dave, what's going on...."

"I told you to shut the fuck up, slave.  And if you do speak, you need to
be respectful - remember?  And if you don't, I'll punish you - slaves here
in the stock area get the electric goad on them if they cause trouble."  As
he said this, Dave got a torch-like thing off his belt, pressed something
on the side and a long rod shot out with an evil-looking bare metal tip on
the end.  "You won't want this touching you as the voltage makes it
painful, very painful.  But perhaps we should demonstrate it..."

"No...", I shouted, backing away from the cage door into the back of the
cell.

"Try that again, or suffer the goad..."

"No, please, sir.", I muttered.  Then, as calmly and quietly a I could, I
went on "Sir, we're supposed to be partners.  And what's this `slave'
stuff...."

"Yes, we are, or were, supposed to be partners.  But in the pub you started
making decisions without asking me.  `We're going to Colchester next week'
you said, and we hadn't even agreed we were going to buy more males.
That's not the way partners work.  They agree things between themselves."
He glared at me and went on "So I thought about it this afternoon, and
decided it won't work.  But I've wasted a lot of time with you, and I need
to get something back.  So I decided that the easiest way would be to sell
you.  You won't be missed, after all - you've left your job, and you never
talked about relatives or friends.  The only people who will notice you've
gone are those two slaves of yours, and I'll go around tomorrow and `take
care of them' for you - you might even have them in the next cages, if I
haven't sold you by then.  You can all wait together as I search for
buyers."

"You'll never get away with it...."

"Won't I?  A buyer comes n here and sees naked slaves up for sale.  One of
them is a good-looking guy with a nice hard body - a bit old, perhaps, but
a nice cock, a pleasing bum... Why will there be a problem? They're at a
dealer, they expect to see slaves."

"Because I'll tell him I'm not a slave, I'm a free man."

"And I'll have told him before we come to take a look at you that you
thought your enslavement was `unfair' and you're still complaining about
it.  He'll expect to see a protesting slave, so what he does see is a
protesting slave!"

"I'm not registered, I haven't got a SIN...."

Dave grinned at me.  "Now you're clutching at straws!  You paid to have
that little SIN problem fixed on your `find', Jason.  So I will pay for
your SIN `problem' to be similarly fixed.  And even though it cost a lot,
as you pointed out, there'll sill be a healthy profit in it for me."

"You're mad, delusional....  It will never work"

"Oh yes it will.  An owner, a rich owner, pretty powerful, comes in here
and buys a slave.  A slave with a SIN branded into his hide - yes, I'm
looking forward to letting you feel the iron - a SIN that's in the IMDS
data base.  He gets you, and a proper deed of sale.  Even if you somehow
manage to get him half convinced you're `innocent' later, he will have
spent all that money to buy you - and there'll be no reason at all for him
not to simply let things stand as they are - an owner, a slave."

I began to feel an icy chill come over me, as I could see Dave was right.
I knew that that was how I would behave in the circumstances!  I'd never
risk throwing away the money I'd spent.  "Look..... Sir....  We cold come
to some arrangement.  I've got money, as you know.  I could pay you.... Buy
myself, so to speak..."

Dave smiled again.  "No, that won't work, will it?  The moment I let you go
out of this cage you'd be around at the police.... And they're not so
stupid, and would do some checking....  And then it would be me in that
cage, waiting to be bought."

With that Dave turned and walked away, leaving me standing there in the
cage.  I looked around me and could see some other men, but they were not
showing much interest - I guess that after a time a slave ceases to care
much about the rest of the world.  There was that smell of male odour, and
shit - and looked and saw why.  The cage floor was made up of bars, and was
suspended above the concrete floor, and in the corner the bars were a
little further apart and in the next cage I could see a turn lying on the
concrete. Then I remembered how I'd seen the cages being cleaned, with the
hose swilling all the crap and piss away, and then cleaning the slaves!
That was going to happen to me, and in the vague hope that it might make a
difference, I supposed, I gripped the cage bars and shook them with
impotent rage, shouting and screaming.

Nothing happened of course, and after a time I stopped and sank to the
floor.  It was terribly uncomfortable as the bars pressed into my naked
flesh, and, as I was to discover throughout the long night, there was no
real way of getting comfortable.  I moved, tried to change position,
shuffled and writhed, but always I could feel he bars pressing in to
me. And I got very little sleep.

I had to piss, and that wasn't so bad.  But then the sickening horror
gradually came on me that I was going to have to crap, too.  I did
everything I could to hold it in, but it's no use, is it?  Ultimately I had
to crouch in the corner and let it go - and the thing was so designed that
I couldn't even turn my body in to the corner as I did so, as the hole was
so close.  I had to squat there knowing that the slaves in the adjacent
pens could easily see me.  I began to feel the utter humiliation of being a
slave - I was having to crap in public, not able to cover myself, not able
to clean myself afterwards as there was no paper or anything.  And then
stay there, in that same small cage, with my crap underneath me for
everyone to see, and its smell coming up at me.

After a time I must have slept, because I woke with a great shout as a jet
of icy water sprayed over me.  I leapt to my feet and there were the two
niggas sluicing away the crap and now giving me a chance to clean myself -
a chance I gladly took, even though there was no soap or anything, and the
water was icy cold.  I stood there then planing the water off my naked skin
with my hands, and shivering.  The niggas threw a bar of slave chow at me,
which I fumbled and dropped and then had to fish through to get it up off
the concrete floor, as I was so hungry.  I wolfed it down in spite of the
dreadful taste (as you'll know, if you've ever tried chow!) and the awful
thought that it might have fallen where there had been piss and crap
swilling along only a minute or two before.

There was nothing to do then, except stand or sit or lie there - I thought
that the niggas cleanup was in the early morning, perhaps about six or six
thirty, and it seemed unlikely that anything much would happen until nine
or ten.  And it's boring - really boring.  Quite apart form the discomfort
of the bars, there was nothing to read, nothing to watch, nothing at all to
do to occupy my mind, and I'm not used to being idle, and bored.  I tried
to speak to the slaves on either side of me but they weren't much
interested - perhaps they'd been worn down by the sheer unrelenting tedium
of their confinement.  Or perhaps, as I later thought, they were illegal
immigrants that had been enslaved - or perhaps illegal immigrants who had
been captured by Dave and illegally enslaved - and who knew there was no
hope for themselves and maybe did not have any English.

I don't know the exact time as of course my watch had been taken from me
when I was stripped and there were no clocks in the slave area, but I
suppose it must be midmorning when the door opened and Dave came in leading
a middle-aged couple.  He stopped at a cage near the end and had a
conversation with them which I couldn't quite hear, then skipped the next
two or three cages and I saw them approaching me.  I went and stood at the
back of the cage and at first tried to cover my genitals with my hands, but
I'm quite big, as I've told you, and it felt stupid.  So I faced in to the
corner so I wouldn't be exposed to them.

"This is new stock", I heard Dave say.  "And as you can see, it's in good
condition for a slave of its age - not much fat around its waist, and you
could quickly starve that off.  And it looks as if it's been reasonably fit
and active, as its muscles look quite hard."

"Well I'd want to see its face....", the woman said, and Dave rapped "Face
the front!"

"I'm not a slave!", I shouted now.  "And there's no way I'm going to expose
myself to people in this place.  I want out...."  The next moment I was
screaming and thrashing around on the floor of the cage.  Dave must have
reached in with that electric slave goad thing he'd shown me and actually
used it on me.  I wanted to shout at him to stop being so fucking stupid,
that I'd now prosecute him and have him enslaved, that a joke had gone
beyond a joke.... But I couldn't.  I was totally unable to speak as I
whimpered and moaned with the pain.

"Get to your feet!  And come to the gate, facing the front" Dave
roared. "Unless you want another taste of the goad."

Slowly and reluctantly, trying to minimise the pain in my body and limbs, I
did so, and stood there with my hands trying to cover myself.

The woman looked concerned.  "Is he hurt?"

"Oh no, ma'am.  It's only temporary, and it really doesn't hurt at all.
Just a momentary discomfort" His tone changed then as he looked down at me.
"Hands in the air!", Dave said, more quietly now, and I knew I had to obey.
There was nothing else to do, as I was utterly powerless.

Slowly I raised my arms, feeling humiliated and embarrassed at having to
expose myself.  And as I did both the man and the woman immediately looked
at my cock and balls, and I felt myself starting to blush - although I've
got absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, and most men would really like to
be hung like me.

"So, a pleasing face", Dave now went on "And overall, a good body as I've
said.  Almost no fat.  Most people like those rather dark coloured nipples.
And, as for its cock... " He paused and went on "Are you interested in
using it or sex?"

It was truly dreadful to hear myself being talked abbot like this, as if I
was not there at all, as if I were some sort of dumb beast As if I had no
say in the matter (I didn't, as a slave!).  And it got worse, as Dave
extended the end of his slave goad through the bars and used it to lift up
my cock.  Utterly terrified, because I was thought Dave might zap me again
and I could only imagine what it would be like there, and totally
humiliated to have my cock being displayed to these people like that.

"See", Dave was saying "I really good long cock, and look at the balls, too
- properly proportioned, and, if anything, on the large size.  But hanging
nice and low - if you want to `display' the slave if it goes shopping with
you, madam, you could put it into really tight Lycra and make all your
friends envious.."

"We may use it for sex", the man now replied to Dave's earlier
question. "My wife and I are both liberal minded and like a little variety
from time to time.  But I'm concerned about unwanted pregnancies...."

"Oh absolutely no difficulty!  I'll throw in a vasectomy at no additional
charge.  You can still have all the physical activity with none of the
risk."  As he said this, Dave looked at the woman, who nodded.  And I
shuddered at the thought of having to fuck her, or have her use me (and in
a flashback I remembered seeing Ian's back and bum in New York with all
those claw marks on after a night of sex.  And this woman seemed to have
long, pointed fingernails too).

"What about fucking it?", the man now asked.

"It's new in, sir, so I haven't tried it out yet personally.  But that's
not ever a problem.  We can test it, and if you do want it as a fuck toy we
can make sure it has learned to accept it, and has been thoroughly
stretched.  It's the same with its throat - a slave to be used for sex can
be desensitised to gagging and choking.  But let's take a look..."  He now
snapped at me "Turn around, bend down, and pull your bum apart so we can
see you properly."

I was seething with rage at Dave talking about using me sexually, and now
it almost bubbled over at being ordered to expose my most secret place to
their gaze.  But what could I do?  I could see the goad in Dave`s hand, so
I did as I had been commanded.

"No sign of damage", Dave was telling them.  Nice and fresh-looking.  I'd
think it was probably a virgin, but I can`t guarantee that, of course.
Still, as I said, if you are going to use it anally, I can make sure it's
ready for it."

They walked off then to look into another cage, leaving me bent and spread
like that, and after a few seconds I straightened up.  I found myself
trembling with emotion and rage. I was powerless, I was humiliated, and I
was going to be sold. And I was never going to be able to run my own life
again, and whoever bought me could abuse me if they wanted to...  I
couldn't help thinking about Greg, who must have felt the same, I suppose.
But then, he'd adapted and didn't seem bothered too much when I ordered him
around and fucked him, so perhaps I could, too.  No, something inside said.
It's OK for Greg as he`d been in the military, and that's what they do all
the time, follow orders.  I'm not like that, I couldn't survive.  I sank
down into the corner of my cage and found myself sobbing with my misery.

Dave showed me to two other potential customers during the morning, and I
thought I might get used to it, but I didn't.  One of them even said to
Dave that I'd look better if I was shaved and trimmed like a slave, as he
didn't think it was right that a slave should sport a pubic bush as if he
was a free man, and Dave nodded and agreed.  "I'll have it done tonight.
Thank you, sir, a most valuable suggestion", he told the man as he smiled
at me in anticipation.  There was going to be more humiliation in store for
me.

Then when my stomach was rumbling as I'd only had that piece of slave chow
and it was surely lunch time, he came in with an Arab man and they both
came immediately to my cage.  "This is the one I called you about", Dave
said.  "I know your principal likes blondes, and although this one isn't a
pure blond, he's got nice light hair.... And I reckon after a couple of
weeks under your sun it will go a couple of shades lighter."

The man nodded. "Yes, it looks as if he will take a good tan and my
principal likes a slave with hair on its arms and legs, and when this one's
hair goes much paler it will be a very enticing effect.  He's got a nice
thatch on his chest, too, and I think that treasure trail across the belly
is exotic - we'll let him keep those IF we buy him...  Although the balls
need shaving, of course.  Why hasn't it been done?"

"This is fresh stock - I called you as I wanted you to be amongst the first
to view it.  We haven't had time to do it yet.  Or around the asshole.  Do
you want to take a look?"

"I think I need to see this slave properly - can we go to the private
room?"

Dave nodded and led the guy away, and the next instant the big niggas were
unlocking my cage.  They hauled me out, and half dragged me as I was
struggling and protesting, in to the "treatment" room where I'd watched
Dave at work.  They forced me into the restraint chair, and quickly and
efficiently strapped me down.  I realised I was totally helpless, my body
on display and available for whatever Dave's customer wanted to do.  I knew
I had to do something, anything, to try to escape and get attention, as
this might be my last chance.  I knew Dave might use his goad on me, but
this now seemed like the best alternative.

As the men came in to the room therefore I started to shout that I was a
free man, that Dave was illegally enslaving me, that....  I stopped, as
Dave gripped my balls and squeezed them - hard.  Well I stopped shouting
intelligibly, and gave a big scream.

"Noisy bugger, isn't he?", Dave said and the Arab guy nodded.  "Shall I
shut him up so we can talk in peace?"

The guy nodded again, and Dave snapped "Open wide!"  And when I didn't
react, began to squeeze my balls again.  "Open wide - your mouth - unless
you want me to hurt you..."

Look, I'm a brave guy as I've told you, but there's something about a man
gripping your balls when you're otherwise helpless that makes you want to
obey - no, have to obey.  So I opened my mouth.  Dave picked up a can of
something - one of those aerosol cans with a small flexible tube coming out
of it - pushed the tube into my mouth and pressed the can.  A cold spray
hit the back of my throat, tasting like, well, "medicine", I suppose.

He pulled the can away, let go of my balls, and I began to shout to tell
the Arab I was a free man, but nothing came out.  Dave ruffled my hair and
smiled at me.  "Stop wasting your efforts - I've anaesthetised your vocal
chords. Nothing will come out for the next hour or so!"

I was terrified now and even more helpless.  The Arab guy picked up my cock
and began to stroke it.  In spite of myself, I couldn't help going hard,
and the guy stroked my `skin back to expose my cock head.  "Nice", he told
Dave.  "A good shape.  Some men's heads are too big for the size of the
shaft, and some taper down to one that's too small.  But this one is just
right...  Mind you, my principal likes to `see' his slaves, so this `skin
will have to go."

Dave nodded.  "I can do that, of course.  But look - I want to move this
slave on, and I think you want to buy him?  I've told you the price, and I
reckon you'll make a good profit on him - they tell me prices in Arabia for
blond whiteys are high... In fact I thought I might go there and sell him
myself."

The Arab bloke just laughed.  "Come on, Dave!  You and I both know you're
going to end up by giving me a five percent discount.  So why don't we cut
the crap, and you agree to it now.  Then we can finalise the details and
you can get to work, and we can both go down to that pub of yours... I like
to watch those labourers that go there...."

"No, I can't discount this one.  He's got a good body, he's educated, and
he'll make an excellent worker or bed buck or stud.  So it's full price, or
else I'll ship him to Arabia and sell him myself..."

The bloke laughed and slapped Dave on the back.  "Oh I wish you would, my
friend.  I'd love you to arrive in my home town, with or without a slave to
sell.  Just your presence would be enough - You're not the only one in to
`taking' a free man, you know.... And I could get a very good price for
you, a very good price indeed....  But I'm feeling generous, and the pound
is low on the markets today, so I'll pay the full price - this time, and
this time only - but I'll want all the extras free."

"Deal!" Dave said, slapping the bloke on the shoulders again.  "So let's
get a move on.  Now, first, as you've got his cock, what are we going to
do?  A classic `high and tight', or just a small exposure of the piss
slit?"

"It's a pity to go the whole way until I've shown my principal - we can
always take more off later, but those methods they talk about for
stretching a `skin that's too short do not work, in my experience.  So just
a light trim so we can see the slit and the contrast with the lovely deep
colour of the head..."

Dave pulled up the little table with the instruments I'd seen him use
before when he'd `skinned the slave, and got hold of his callipers.  Then
he and the Arab bloke tugged and pulled at me as they measured and
discussed what was to be done.  I tried to thrash around, tried to do
everything I could, but it was no good.  The straps held me utterly and
completely immobile.  They appeared to be finished, and Dave then picked up
a scalpel - I saw it glinting in the lights. "No...", I tried to scream,
uselessly.

"No, my friend", the Arab told Dave, gently restraining his arm.  Not now.
I enjoy seeing a slave being prepared but it can be messy and this is a new
suit.  Let's agree the rest of the modifications, and you can do it after
lunch."

The Arab started to fondle my balls them, complaining to Dave about the
fact that the were not shaved smooth, and then had the chair tipped back so
that both men could stand there and look at my asshole.  "The hair will
have to go of course", the Arab told Dave.  "But otherwise it looks good.
Is it a virgin, do you think?"

"Probably.  White, upper middle class, middle-aged Englishman.  So it's
likely, but not guaranteed."

The Arab spat on his middle finger, and my whole body seemed to contract -
even though I simply could not move - as the tip brushed against my
asshole.  "Careful!", Dave said.  "There's no problem with you testing him
of course, but we haven't had him cleaned out yet so it will be a bit
messy..."

The Arab nodded.  "I was only going to feel its prostate anyway, to make
sure there's no incipient signs of cancer.  But as your guarantee covers
six months I can always ship it back if there are medical problems."

They then went on to discuss where I should be branded, and the type of
brand.  I was to get a big "S" on my left ass cheek, and the Arab's
principal's house mark on my right pec.  I shuddered as they discussed
hurting and modifying my body like this, but what could I do?

"And finally, the rings", the Arab said.

"Usual?  Cinch ring, to push his cock and balls out?"

"No.  Some of the `new money' has taken to having its slaves like that and
my principal has decided it's rather crass and vulgar.  There's no need to
bother with a collar either - my principal has his own design, and its easy
enough to have it welded on when I get him there. But the tit rings - you
should do those now so that they start to heal...."

As he said this the Arab leaned forward and squeezed my left nipple.  I
tried to scream, and tried to squirm, as my nips are really, really
sensitive - in fact I really don't like anyone touching them at all.  But
it was no use of course, and tied down like that I knew I had to put up
with whatever they chose to do with me.  "A nice size", he remarked, "And a
good deep colour - and the aureoles are quite prominent, too - always an
advantage when looking at a slave.  My principal prefers platinum as it's
so much less flashy than gold, so just put something temporary in to get
the piercing holes starting to heal and I'll have them changed later."

"If he doesn't want the slave to look flashy, why have its nipples ringed
at all?"

"Oh, so when it's running - this one will probably end up in the shafts of
a cart - the rings jog up and down and serve to remind the slave that it's
just that - the movement of the rings tells the slave constantly that it is
a slave.  In the spring, too, at the festival they can put fresh flowers
through the rings to decorate the salve and make it look all new and
fresh. And of course if it's used in bed, there`s no simpler way of
controlling a slave than to pull on its tit rings... Although one of my
clients likes to have the slave's big toes tied to its tit rings - that
keeps its legs pulled right back and its ass wide open, I can tell you!"

Dave and the Arab then started to discuss ringing and Dave brought out a
selection of rings for them to discuss in relation to the size of my tits!
I've seen pictures of gay men with tit rings of course, but these have
always been small - almost surrounding the nipple.  But the Arab and Dave
were discussing monstrously big things, thick and about an inch in
diameter!  They said a slave needed to really feel the weight, and Dave
promised to be very careful in fitting them so as to avoid breaking the tit
totally.  "I know that if you try to force it with a standard piercing tool
the skin can break and then it's useless.  So I use one of those things
like a cherry stoning tool - rather than piercing a small hole with a
needle and then widening it, the sharp end of the tool is the same size as
the ring so it actually cuts a "core" of flesh out, and when you squeeze it
the tool goes through and is held by the `catcher' on the other side."

I was breathing hard, I was covered in sweat, and as I futilely struggled
and the Arab and Dave continued to tease my nips I could no longer control
myself - to my horror I felt a great stream of piss pouring out as I
totally lost control!

Dave and the Arab both swore, and leaped back.  Then laughed.  "A good
sign", the Arab said. "When they lose control like that it means they
probably haven't been used before."

Dave nodded.  "Sorry, I thought it had been made to piss before the niggas
tied it down.  That won't happen again, as I'll beat them tonight.  Still,
I guess we're lucky - sometimes a slave has been know to lose control of
its bowels!"

With that, the two men decided they'd done enough, and went out to lunch
leaving me there helpless.  And to add to my shame at pissing, I felt tears
streaming down my cheeks as I thought of the humiliation I was going to
experience in my new life.

The niggas came back eventually and undid me, and I just stood there - all
the fight had seemed to have gone out of me.  One of them used a rough
towel to clean up my body, and they led me, now not struggling, along the
corridor towards Dave's office.

There they both were, and as I came in Dave put his arm around my shoulders
and laughed.  "There, then... That's all over."

To my surprise the Arab came over and shook my hand, and he and Dave shook
hands.  "Thank you, Dave.  A most excellent morning.  I see I am in the
wrong business - selling slaves is much more exciting than fruit and
vegetables!"

Dave looked at me and now said, barely able to stop laughing. "We really
got to you, didn`t we?  Ali here runs the corner shop, and I got him to
play the part of a client to really put you through it..."

"What the fuck...?"

"The other clients were real, but they only felt you up a bit.  But I
wanted a bit more `education', wanted you to understand more about slavery
and control, so I asked Ali to give me and hour.  Good role play, wasn't
it?"

"You fucker!  What..."

"Listen, we agreed to be partners.  An I thought we were.  But you didn't
change. Did you?  We were talking abut those squaddies at Colchester, and
you said we'd go.  No discussion, no asking me, no suggesting - just a
direct statement that we would go.  So I knew I had to do something,
something that would really get you to change the way you and I are going
to work together.  And I think I succeeded - as you know that if you ever
fail to treat us as partners properly again, those niggas will have you in
the chair as quick as quick, and this time that scalpel will get to work!"

I was really recovering now, although I didn't like to be standing there
naked in front of them - silly, really, as they'd already both done a lot
more than just look.  I noticed Dave's goad lying on his desk, snatched it
up, touched Dave, and pressed the button.  He fell to the floor, writhing
and screaming.  I looked down at him, and when the worst of his agony was
over, said quietly, using the words he had earlier "It's only temporary,
and it really doesn't hurt at all.  Just a momentary discomfort", Dave.

I pulled him to his feet, and ordered the niggas to fetch my clothes.  "I
guess we're equal again now, Dave, eh?"

Still rubbing his limbs, he nodded.

I went back to my flat then as I wanted to discus with Jason more details
of the project I had in mind and to see how he was getting on.  I was also
a little concerned about exactly what Greg was doing.  When I got home
however both slaves appeared to have been working away, and by about five
o'clock I was getting bored.  A dilemma now presented itself: I wanted to
go back to Dave's for an evening of fun and sex.  But could I trust Dave?
Look at what had happened yesterday!  And although he said it was to "get
even", had my use of the goad upset things again so that I was once more
"ahead" as far as he was concerned?  Indeed, did I dare go back to Dave's
ever, given that those niggas of his could so easily overpower me.

I paced up and down, and thought of various solutions, such as taking Greg
with me to somehow even up the odds in a struggle.  But then what would I
do with him if I decided to stay overnight with Dave?  And in any case
could the two big niggas plus Dave overpower Greg as well, and we then
might both end up in the sale cages.  But then I really did want to see
Dave again, and I did need to start talking to him about my plans.  However
I could perhaps arrange a business meeting on "neutral ground, a
restaurant, or even his local pub.

By six o'clock I was no closer to a solution, and this was terrible for me
as I'm a man who likes to make rapid decisions, and I do not like
uncertainty.  I was pacing up and down in frustration, and snapping at my
slaves at the slightest provocation.  I knew I had to make my mind up or
the whole evening would be wasted as I couldn't even consider doing
anything else.  At finally, by six thirty, I was on the tube out to
Strattford on my way to Dave's.

At Leyton station it was good to see that Scabbard & Drass did not appear
to be busy, and as rain was coming on I hurried around to Dave's.  I was
pleased to see that the female slave on reception had been replaced by a
middle-aged but buff-looking male, and I told him to go and fetch Dave.
Then of course I realised I might have made a mistake, as Dave might
interpret this as me giving orders and deciding things for myself!

He appeared quite quickly though and shook my hand.  "I wasn't expecting
you!  I thought you might never come here again after being `sold' like
that.  Well, it takes some nerve, I'll give you that.  So what are you here
for?  To give me more orders?"

"I want us to be partners.  I think there are advantages for both of us - I
get an interest in life, you get money to expand and grow the business...
And that means we have to work together, we can't do it on the phone!  As
you pointed out, selling slaves is better done in person, not online.  So
here I am.... worried, sure, as I think that slave business was
unnecessary: I only made a good business suggestion about going to
Colchester and you took it as a `command', but it wasn't like that.  So if
you just apologise, we can move on."

"You really are incredible, you know!  You left me here on the floor,
writhing from my own slave goad..."

"You used it on me when I was in that cage..."

"Not at full power!"

I was about to say how the fuck would I know how to set the power on a
slave goad, but realised this was futile and stupid.  We could go on
swapping insults and injuries all night.  So instead I stuck out my hand
instead.  "We both did some things that looked good at first but perhaps
went too far... The important thing is that we agree to work together, as
business partners." I looked long and hard at him then and added "And as
buddies, friends, whatever, as well."

"Let's go down the pub and cement our new relationship, then", Dave replied
as he shook my hand so vigorously that I thought it would fall off.

I was so keen to be "the same" as Dave that I drank far too much at the
pub, and did not want to go back to my flat, and let Dave lead me back into
his place and then the bedroom.  We caressed each other so vigorously that
it felt as if my bones might break, and our kissing was so passionate that
it looked as if we might both choke. I don't know who started to undress
first, it was more as if we tore at each other's clothes as we were so
desperate to have our bodies together.  We fell into bed and were thrashing
around, rubbing all over each other, wrapping our arms and legs around,
stroking each other's cocks not only with our hands but by rubbing our
bodies over them, then suddenly Dave stopped.  At first I thought that he
was going to start on about the fucking business again, but then I looked
up and saw his young slave boy standing there in the tiny silk shots he
wore around the place.  He looked kind of sad, and wistful.

Dave looked at me, grinned, and winked, then said to the boy "Oh come on
then, if you really want to - off with those shorts and get in here!"

The boy was so fast I hardly noticed the shorts dropping and then he threw
himself on to the bed in-between us - his skin was cold compared to Dave's
as I guess he had been only wearing those shorts all evening and was not
fuelled with alcohol!  Dave wrapped an arm around him, and played with the
boy's cock - only for an instant, as that's all it took for the kid to be
rock hard.

"You first", Dave told me.  "You're the guest - you fuck him first."

I wanted to fuck Dave, and as you know I had strong misgivings about
fucking a really young guy, even though Dave had explained to me before
that he was above legal age, and was anyway a slave.  It simply did not
seem right to me.  I'd been almost forced into it before when I'd been
lying there and the kid had "ridden" my cock, but now it seemed just wrong
that I should take the initiative and begin to fuck him properly.  I felt
panic rising - how could I turn down Dave's offer without him thinking I
was in some way different, or abusing his hospitality, or even that I was
in some way better than him and did not want or need to fuck slaves?

Finally I managed to say, sounding as cheery as I could, "I need time! I'm
not used to all that beer..."

"You want him to take your piss before you start?  I didn't think of you as
being a bit kinky like that.  But he's well trained..."

"No, Dave.  Look, it's kind of embarrassing... You know.... Brewer's
droop....?  You go first and I'm sure that will stimulate me."

Dave laughed hard now.  "Some people would think you weren't a real man,
not able to get it up after a few pints!  But we're buddies, so we'll let
that go.  And I am really horny - all that stuff teasing you this morning
got me worked up, I can tell you, and I need relief...."

With that Dave knelt up onto the bed, grabbed the boy around his waist and
hauled him to his knees, pushed the boy's head down on to the pillow so his
ass was higher in the air, and on one smooth movement thrust himself in to
the kid's ass.  The boy gasped and nearly screamed, and I could see him
clutching at the pillow with his hands as Dave started to fuck him.

It didn't take long, and Dave was soon lying on his back beside me,
dripping with sweat.  The boy was lying sprawled across his body, his mouth
near Dave's tit, and Dave was stroking his head affectionately and making
little chuckling noises, and whispering "fucking ace, Timmy..."

"I thought your previous slave was Tim? You never called this one anything
other than `boy'."

"Well perhaps not when you're here, as he's mostly `boy' in public and when
he's at work.  But in bed, well, Timmy's nice.  I call all my young slaves
that as it helps."

"Helps you to not to have to remember their names..?" I suppose I sounded a
bit shocked.

"No.  Helps them get used to their new life.  They need to get away from
their past, and having a new name helps them.  It does help me, though, but
that's not the real reason!" Dave continued to stroke the kid almost
affectionately, moving his hand down the boy's back and onto his nice
little bum.  "Now, do you want to fuck him now?  He's nice and lubed now -
but if you're one of those stupid fastidious blokes who doesn't like
another man's cum on his cock when he goes in, Timmy here will go and clean
himself out..."

"No, it's not that.  I just don't feel it's right".  There.  I'd said it.

Dave continued to stroke the boy gently, and I noticed his eyes were
closing and he was drifting into sleep, as you do, I suppose, after sex.
Ever so gently Dave pulled some of the bedcover over the lad as if to keep
him warm.  Then he turned to me and quietly, as if not to wake the boy "I
thought we'd been through all of this.  He's old enough, and he's a slave.
And I know you want to fuck, as you keep trying to fuck me..."

"I do want to fuck you.  But I don't think it's right to fuck a kid, old
enough in law or not, slave or not..."

"You don't understand jack shit about slave ownership, or slave training,
do you?"

"Well not as much as you, yet, of course."

"Let me tell you a story.  A story about a lad of fifteen..."

"You mean Tim, or Timmy, or whatever he was called before?"

"Will you shut up for once, and listen?  It might be Tim, it might be...
Well, anyway, there's this fifteen year old, totally out of control.
Drinking, smoking, fucking every girl in sight, moving on to the soft
drugs, nicking a few things to pay for it, always trusting from school... A
real tearaway.  Heading for enslavement as soon as he was sixteen, if he
survived that long on the streets.  They can be really tough around here,
you know."

Seeing me nod, as I knew the type, Dave went on "Well this lad was lucky
enough to get some training.  Some proper training, that is.  Out at a
place in Southend, that's still in business today.  No nonsense there, no
nonsense at all.  Stripped naked as soon as he arrived and totally body
shaved.  `Cold turkey' for four weeks then, locked naked in a small cell to
break him of the fags, booze and drugs.  And then exercise - hard,
unrelenting exercise, with big tough instructors who used their hands, and
their belts, if he didn't run fast enough or long enough, or didn't lift
enough weights, or cheated on the number of reps he was supposed to do...
No outside influences, no books, games, TV, girls.... Just breaking him
down, and remaking him as a tough, fit, useful member of society."

Dave was looking almost distressed now as his voice got lower and lower.
So I nodded and added, as I wanted to be part of this, "And then,
sixteen..."

"Yes, sixteen. And sex.  Look, up until then it was just lads messing
around - you know how it is at that age, you want to wank all the time.
And when you're living in dormitories with other lads just like you, and
there's nothing else to do as there's no TV, no video, no games so it's
dead boring, you start to experiment a bit.  Wanking your best mate.  Then
`circle jerks', I think the Americans call them.  But at sixteen you're
legal for sex, proper sex. And the place gets local men in to teach you all
about it - they don't pay them or anything, as there are enough men in
Southend who like playing around with young lads and who willingly come in
every night after work.  All sorts - big labourers, blokes from offices,
the men coming off the commuter trains from London.  And they all want
something different - some just want you to wank them, most of them like
you to suck you off, some of them want to fuck you of course, and quite lot
of them want a lusty young bloke to fuck them.  You get pretty experienced
pretty quickly, I can tell you, as there's always a supervisor standing
around with a cane or strap to `encourage' you if the bloke complains
you're not co-operating properly."

"Yes, sixteen, and after all that sex, finally out in to the world."  I was
expecting Dave to say something about going off to a slave dealer, but
instead he said, his voice a whole lot less confident now, almost as if he
was going to break in to tears.  "Yes, back.  Still in tiny shorts, but
they let the hair grow back.  A proper man.  A real man. Still, at least I
was going to freedom.  All the other lads at the place were slaves, as
you'd expect."

He was silent then, and I knew I should say nothing as I wanted to hear
what happened.  "And my dad threw his arms around me, and said how proud he
was of me.  And now I was a man, a real man, who had put all that
foolishness about drink and drugs behind him. He'd only sent me to a slave
place as he thought that was the only location that would be guaranteed to
turn me around.  And he loved me, I could tell that, really loved me.  And
it seemed sort of natural to be with dad, no, I wanted to be with dad.  And
he wanted the same sort of thing all those men had wanted.  But with one
difference."

I waited expectantly.  And Dave finally added "The difference being that he
loved me, he cared for me, he took care of me.  Until he got wiped out in a
crash on the M11."

There was a tear running down Dave's face now, and I pulled him close to me
and tried to make comforting noises.  But what can you do - you don't want
to make a grown man feel like he's a little kid, crying like that, so you?

He composed himself and then, as if to close the subject, almost briskly
said "So that's what I do for the Tims.  I make sure they know all about
sex, and it's not wrong, or rape or anything as you seem to think of it.
The difference is that I really care about them, and they know it.  Look
how Timmy here is sleeping - he's really relaxed, really happy.  And I'll
make sure he carries on like that, too - when I replace him with another
young bloke that I'm trying to help I`ll make sure I only sell him to a
kind, considerate older owner who will properly cherish him."

Well there was nothing I could say in the face of Dave's seemingly
impeccable logic, was there?  So I lay there enjoying the feel of his body
against mine, and seeing Tim lying sprawled over him was kind of different,
I suppose.  And there was no need for me to fuck Tim now, as Dave seemed to
have forgotten all about it!  I thought about saying something like "Well,
at that Southend place you were passing for a slave - and that's very
different from what usually happens, isn't it, as slaves try to pass as
free men?  But although it was faintly amusing, I decided not to.

End Of Part Fifteen