Date: Thu, 12 Apr 2007 23:27:34 -0700 (PDT)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Slave Revolt, Part Thirteen

THE SLAVE REVOLT

By Pete Brown   petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

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

Part  Thirteen

Rob continued to lie in my in my arms.  He was silent,
and occasionally a shiver ran through him.  I held him
close, as tight as I could, and even wrapped my legs
around him as best I could as it seemed he was cold -
the fucking chain got in the way though, and it wasn't
wholly satisfactory.  I could feel his warn ass on my
dick and my erection stubbornly refused to go down and
somehow having the soft skin of his inner thighs
gripping me like that was very, very erotic.

Finally, when he seemed to be a lot calmer, I tried
again to reassure him.  "Rob", I whispered, lowering
my tone to increase the level of intimacy.  "Look,
getting fucked when you don't want to be fucked is
pretty bad, but it's not the end of the world.  You're
alive and well, lying here with me, so there was no
permanent problem....."

"Yes there is, Steve!  They've violated, me, used
me.... It's not right...."

"Rob, how do you think I felt when I was 'violated',
when I was 'used'.  And it's not just that your dad
fucked me and stuff like that.  I've had to go and
stud - that's fuck women against my will, watched by a
load of people, to give it a proper description.
Don't you think I feel violated and used?"

"But you're a slave...."

"For fuck's sake, Rob!  What's the difference?  Free
man, slave - it's not right to force a guy to do
things he doesn't want to.  Especially not private,
intimate, sexual things, like fucking., or being
fucked.  Forgive me if I don't feel sorry for you, but
it's your dad, and people like him, that make guys
like me suffer, suffer all the time.  I used to be a
marine you know, proud to be serving my country, doing
good in the world.... And now look at me!"

Rob went quiet, then muttered "I'm sorry, Steve.  I
didn't think about what you thought about all this
stuff...."

"It's OK - you're young.  It's not your fault, really.
 But I'm worried about you, Rob - you aren't the same
as when we were 'on the road'.  And now I think I
understand why..... This 'rape' thing... You've got to
put it behind you.  You've got to move on, get on with
your life."

He pressed his face into my chest, and I believe he
was trying to stifle a sob.  "I will, Steve...."

"Good.  And I can help you, you know... You can talk
about it to me... . We've been through the same kind
of things...."

I could tell he was agreeing with me, and to lighten
the atmosphere a bit, as it was pretty intense, I
whispered "But you know you'd better slide off my dick
- I can feel that warm asshole pressed against it, and
if you carry on exciting it like that, I can't answer
for the consequences.... I'd love to have your warm
ass wrapped around it, but now's not the right time,
not until you've forgotten all those soldiers...."

He moved his head down and nipped my left tit lightly,
causing me to squirm as I always did as my nips are so
sensitive.  "What? You fuck me?  Now?  No way - look,
all I'd have to do is get my teeth on your tit, and
you'd be helpless...."

We both laughed then, and moved a bit apart, and then
together again in that easy way that men who are
familiar with each others bodies can.  And as he moved
against me I could feel his dick was stiff again, and
my wood had never gone away, as I've told you.

"So, Rob.... No fucking..... But a couple of guys like
us, in bed together, me with a wood that's actually
painful, and I reckon yours is, too.....?"

He nipped my tit again, before I could stop him, and I
shouted out with the surprise as that oddly painful
tickling sensation shot through me.  Then I had to
"punish " him, so I rolled him over on to his belly,
crushing his erection into the sheets, and threw my
body on top of his - well, not completely of course as
 I didn't want to stop him from breathing him - I look
some of my weight on my elbows.  But he was wriggling
sensuously under me, exciting and enflaming me, and I
wriggled forward a bit so his butt was under my groin,
and kind of "mock fucked" him a bit, letting him feel
my pubes and dick against his flesh, and all the time
gently biting his shoulders where they joined hi neck,
and "tongue fucking " his ears - which excited him so
much that he was joining in my mock fucking of him by
thrusting his butt into me as I let my cock slide over
it.

Finally I could stand it no longer, and I gave a kind
of long, low cry and my dick began to jerk
convulsively and pump cum in-between our bodies.  I
had to stop then, as my dick is so sensitive wren I've
cum, but Rob knew this and carried on moving under me,
causing me to cry out with the sheer exquisite
pleasure of it.

Well I couldn't  let him get away with that, could I?
I rolled off him, flipped him over onto his back (who
cares that the sheets would then be all slimed with my
cum as it was scraped off from his back - it was
slaves who did all the changing and laundering of the
bed linen, after all)  - and began to stroke his dick:
 I was really rough, gripping it tight and showing no
mercy as he called out that it was hurting.  And then
I started to "polish his knob", as the English say,
rubbing the palm of one hand in hard, circular motions
over his dick head as I gripped the shaft really hard
with the other.  He was crying out, begging me to
stop, but I knew he wasn't serious.  And then my
"polishing" got easier as masses of pre-cum came out
to lubricate my palm, and his body arched upwards as
if he was trying to give his dick to me..... I stopped
the "polishing" and gave him a couple of ordinary
handshakes, and he let out a great cry as a jet of cum
squirted out of him, high into the air as it does from
young guys.

We collapsed back then in each others arms, as two
guys do who've just had the most amazing jerk off
session with each other, and we were both laughing,
laughing loudly.  I pulled him towards me again,
wrapping my arm around his body, then half turning him
to face me.

"See, Rob... Sex with a guy can be fun....."

He grinned at me.  "I know, Steve.... I could see you
were enjoying it...."

"Oh come on, Rob, you were too..."

"Sometimes you don't understand me when I'm joking, do
you.... Of course I enjoyed it, Steve.  Who wouldn't,
with a guy like you?"

He smiled again, and went to bite at my nip again, and
we both carried on laughing as I grabbed his head and
pushed it away.

I reckon we could have stayed in bed all morning, but
Rob pointed out that his father was a stickler for
having "family" meal times and that he had to go down
to breakfast.  So we showered together, and as I ran
my soapy hands over his body, and he did the same with
his over mine, I remembered how close we were when
we'd been "on the road", and I did wonder whether we
could ever be so close again, given our very different
circumstances.

In the breakfast room Rob tried to get me some cereal
and some bacon and stuff like that, and got a severe
admonishment from his father for doing so.  "I've told
you", my owner almost snapped, "...that I'm not
altogether keen on having this slave in here at all.
And I certainly won't have him fed scraps, like some
pet dog...."

"But dad, Steve's hungry...."

"So feed him before you come in to breakfast.  Or let
him starve a bit - I'm told it's fashionable for
slaves' ribs to be showing....."

"Dad,  I can't do that!"

"Why not, Rob?  He's a slave, an unruly slave.... And
perhaps if he's hungry, really hungry, he'll begin to
learn that he relies on his owners and that rebellion
does not pay."

I was beginning to understand why Rob couldn't tell
his father the truth now - if he told him about our
life on the road, the question would inevitably arise
as to how we got separated, and then Rob would have to
tell his father about the rape.  Still, it made for a
very uncomfortable situation, and I wondered if the
best thing for every one concerned might not be or me
to tell my owner - after all, I could get a lot of the
story out before he managed to get guards in and have
me clubbed to the floor!  But then I thought it
wouldn't be fair to Rob - I thought he did intend to
tell his father, when the moment was right, and
perhaps I ought to let things work out for themselves.
 Relationships between guys of his age and their
fathers are difficult enough as it is, and I didn't
want to really fuck things up. So I shut up and just
stood there against the wall, feeling rather dejected
and left out.

My owner was talking to Rob though and to my horror  I
heard him say "I know I gave Steve to you, Rob, but
there are some outstanding things, obligations,
almost, that I have with him.  This afternoon, you're
not doing anything with him, are you?"  Seeing Rob's
shake of the head he went on "Good.  Because Parson
Fields is coming over with one of his bitches and I
said that Steve would stud her - the Parson hasn't got
a lot of money and can't afford a stud fee from a
normal stud place, so I said I'd help him out."

"You're always telling me, dad, that you don't believe
in all this church rubbish...."

"I don't, of course.  But the Parson is a good man, if
very misguided, and it never helps to be seen to be
doing good in the community.  I understand this bitch
he has is pretty near the end of her pub-bearing years
and he's keen to get one more litter out of her before
she's really totally too old."

"Dad, we can't get Steve to fuck some really old,
shrivelled-up nigga bitch..."

"Why ever not?  Once that cock of his is hard and
we've put him into her, nature generally takes over
and a stud like Steve can't stop himself.  It's part
of being a slave - they're just like animals, really -
point their cocks at a hole, and their animal nature
takes over and they pump away."

"But dad, I don't like the idea.... He's really my
slave, and I don't like the thought of him fucking
some vile old nigga bitch....."

"As I explained, Rob, this is an outstanding
obligation from before I decided to give Steve to you.
 You don't want me to be seen to renege on a promise,
do you?  That's hardly the mark of a gentleman....."

"Well having to fuck some nigga bitch is hardly the
mark of any sort of man, dad!  Look...!"

His father cut him off rather abruptly. "Rob, I will
not have this senseless argument.  Of course a man
should not have to fuck where he does not want to, but
that's what makes Steve different from us:  we're men,
and he's a slave.  A slave does as his owner instructs
him."

I listened with horror to all of this.  I mean, I
didn't mind studding nice young bitches, but by the
sound of it what I was going to have to do that
afternoon was going to be pretty unpleasant.

"Dad, you could fulfil your obligation to Parson
Fields by getting one of the other niggas to do it -
we've got a lot of them out on the farm.  We don't
need to give him Steve...."

"We do, Rob!  Parson Fields particularly wants a
lighter-coloured pup from her, as they're worth more
when you come to sell it.  All the slaves in the
fields are all proper niggas, and it just won't do."

"But dad...."

"Rob, I've said all I'm going to say on this subject.
It's not as if this will hurt or damage Steve in any
way - give him an hour or so to recover after the
studding, and his body will have replaced all his
fluids...."

"But what about his mind, dad?  Making a guy have sex
against his will.... It's wrong!"

"And I've told you, Rob, that is self-evidently true.
But Steve isn't a man, he's a slave."  My owner got to
his feet, and before Rob could say any more, began to
leave the room.  At the door he turned and said "Make
sure he's down at the barn by three.  It would be
impolite to keep our guests waiting".

As the door shut, Rob turned to me, and muttered
"Steve, I'm sorry....   I tried...."

I simply stood there, not knowing what to say.  He
continued  "My father's wrong - you shouldn't make a
man have sex against his will, whether he's a free man
or a slave."

I still stood there, silent, and he stuttered on "I
know it, Steve.  The way those soldiers raped me...
It's not right!"

"I doubt it will be that bad, Rob - by the sound of
it, this nigga bitch is pretty experienced.  I won't
be the first slave to have studded her.  And she might
even enjoy it...."

"It's you I'm thinking about, Steve!  Being made to
perform like that.  With a woman you don't know, and
who's a lot older than you...."

"I suppose it's no worse than hiring a prostitute, as
they used to in the old days.  A lot of them were
pretty old, so the stories tell us.  Don't worry about
it - and if you're bothered, don't come and watch."

"Watch?"

"Sure.  When I've studded before, your father or one
of the overseers, and the bitch's owner, all come
along to watch.  It's part of the process - it reminds
everyone that it's just two animals mating, as goes on
elsewhere on the demesne, not two humans doing
something intimate, privately."

Rob sat there and put his head in his hands, resting
his elbows on the dining table.  "I wish I could do
something about this, Steve.... I really do.  But I
can't argue any more with dad...."

"Well you could tell him about our time on the
road.... Then he might be grateful.... And start
treating me decently again, as he used to...."

"I can't do that, Steve.... Not yet....."

"Oh come on, Rob, of course you can."

"But then I'd have to tell him I  was raped."

"So tell him!"

"I can't, Steve.  Not yet....."

"So you can't tell your dad about something that's in
the past, so I have to endure the equivalent of rape
in the present - that's what it is, you know:  making
a guy fuck someone is the equivalent of rape...."

Rob got to his feet, and ran out of the room, and I
think  I heard a big kind of sob as he did so.  I
stood there for a few moments, then went over to the
buffet and stuffed ten slices of bacon between two
huge pancakes, drenched them in maple syrup, and
wolfed the whole thing down before anyone came!

I didn't see Rob for the rest of the morning, so I
exercised a bit,  then went over to the pool, and,
seeing no one was looking, did thirty fast lengths (I
wasn't usually allowed in the pool as it was
considered that slaves "soiled" the water), and then
lay and spread my body out to enjoy the sun.   Look, I
hated the thought of having to fuck some vile old
woman, but I'd been a slave long enough to know that I
had no choice:  short of running away, there was no
way I could avoid studding the bitch that afternoon.
I could struggle and fight, and all they'd do is whip
me then chain me up.  So what was the point?  I might
as well go along with it and get it over with - after
all, it's a few minutes at the most.

I jogged over to the barn that afternoon, and there
was still no sign of Rob.  One of the overseers saw me
and grinned broadly.  "Come on, Steve!  This one will
be a tough one for you, but we'll help. And it's
always fun to watch you in action, although I have to
say I'd prefer to see a nice young virgin squirming
away under you as you fuck her....  Still, come on,
let's get you ready...."

"Look, sir, it's OK.  I know what I've got to do....
We don't need all the stuff...."

"Sorry, Steve!  It's your owner's orders - he phoned
over and said he wants it done 'traditionally' as he
reckons you might go rogue again."

I shrugged, as I suppose I'd got used to the idea by
now that my owner simply didn't trust me, and, on the
overseer's command, knelt in front of him so he could
fit the traditional "studding collar" around my neck
and fasten my wrists behind into it.  When he offered
up the combined gag and bit, though, I muttered "Sir,
please.... Is that necessary....?"

"Sorry, Steve, but it's the owner's orders.  He
doesn't want to risk you biting anyone - not that I
reckon you'd fancy the bitch and want to!  Still, it
will keep you quiet too, eh?  And I suppose he doesn't
want a rebel like you saying anything that will upset
his guests."

I opened my mouth and he slipped the hard metal in,
and I tasted that sharp metallic taste of steel.  He
fastened the straps behind my head, and I was
effectively silenced as I could form no intelligible
speech with the plate pressing my tongue down and the
ends of the bit protruding from the sides of my mouth.

"Right, boy, get ready.....", he muttered, and took a
small plastic thing out of his pocket, put it between
my open lips - I couldn't stop him, of course -  and
pressed a button on the end.  I almost choked as a
tablet hit the back of my throat, and he quickly
gripped my head between his thighs as I knelt there,
and massaged my throat.  My eyes were streaming from
where my gag reflexes had been triggered, and I
struggled involuntarily as you do in the circumstances
- but, kneeling and cuffed, my head wedged between his
strong thighs, there was nothing I could do. I felt
completely and utterly powerless, and hated it.

"Easy, boy, easy.....", he said quietly.  "I should
have warned you.  We use this on the horses, when they
have to take a pill - it fires it at the back of their
throats, as otherwise they don't swallow it.  The
master suggested we use it on you, as he reckoned you
wouldn't want to take one of these pills - they're
some sort of super Viagara, specially intended for
stud slaves, guaranteed to make you hard and keep you
hard all afternoon...."

I tried to say "I don't need stuff like that...", but
of course nothing intelligible came out, and the
overseer continued "I've seen you in action before,
but I reckon they're doing you a kindness giving you
this pill this afternoon - a young slave like you, and
that fat old bitch.... You'll need something to get it
up, and keep it up."

He let me get to my feet then and I stood there for a
few minutes, then the overseer said, not unkindly,
"Why don't you go and sit in the shade?  We've got
about half an hour to let that pill kick in, and
there's no point standing around, getting all hot...."

I nodded - that's all  I could do - and went and sat
on a bench outside in the shadow.  And I wish I
hadn't, as whilst I was sitting there Parson Fields'
beaten up old car drove up and he got out, followed by
this enormous fat old nigga bitch - you could hardly
see her slave collar as it was almost covered in the
rolls of fat on her neck!  You could tell he was
almost penniless, of course, as he had to use an old,
non-ecological gas burner like that - decent folk
around us at that time used ponies, or, generally, if
they could afford them, pony slaves.  I looked in
horror at the bitch as she waddled behind her owner
into the barn, and I reckoned it was a good job that
they had given me that pill - there was absolutely no
way that I could get an erection faced with that
mountain of lard.  But as I've told you, I knew there
was no avoiding it so I simply sat there until the
overseer came out.

"Here, Steve:  your owner wants you blindfolded like
they used to in the old days", he said, sounding a bit
embarrassed by it.  "He says you're less likely to
rebel if you can't see.  Actually, I reckon he might
be doing a kindness, really, as you won't have to see
the bitch....."

He gestured, and I knelt in front of him again so that
he could fasten the soft, cloying fabric around my
eyes, then, on his command stood up, and he grabbed my
left biceps and led me into the barn.

I could tell at once that quite a crowd was there - my
owner was of course talking to what I assumed must be
Parson Fields, but as was usual there were a number of
others - some of the overseers and guards enjoyed
seeing a good fucking, as they said it saved them
renting porn DVDs, and some of the house slaves and
other "trustees" were want to sneak in, too.  I was
halted, and then felt my shorts being opened and
pushed down, and I was moved forward to step out of
them as they bunched on the barn floor, and guided
forward a few more paces.

It was my owner's voice , calmly and quietly saying
"So, my good sir, here he is!  A fine looking brute,
isn't he?"

"Oh yes, excellent!  You are indeed fortunate that God
has smiled on you and given you the good fortune to be
able to afford such a magnificent piece of slave
flesh.  So tall, so muscular, and such a delightful
colour....  I do think a whitey, when he's well tanned
as this one so clearly is, is so much more attractive
than a quadroon, or even an octoroon.  There's
something different about the skin texture, and the
way it colours up...."

"Quite so, Parson."

"...but is it not a little worrying that the
instrument that the good Lord has given him to fulfil
the purposes of us His humble subjects is not.... Is
not, shall I say, ready?"

My owner spoke again, and gave an order to the
overseer, and I felt his hand grip my dick and begin
to stroke it.  I shied away from him, but he'd got his
other hand pressed into the flat of my back - not
enough to really stop me running away, but the subtle
psychological pressure it exerted caused me to stop.
"That's right, boy....", he whispered.  "I'll just get
you hard, then I'll take you over to the bitch...."

Well, when a guy's stroking your dick, however much
you might not want to, you can't help going hard, can
you?  Especially not when there's all that chemical
raging around inside you - I felt unnaturally hot and
flushed, which is what that sort of stuff does to you.

"Do you want the pleasure of inserting him?", I heard
my owner ask, and I suppose the parson must have
shaken his head as my owner said in a different tone
to the overseer "Take him over and get him started."

"Yes, sir!", the overseer replied, and now using my
rock-hard dick as a kind of handle, he led me for a
few paces across the barn.

"Right, Steve - shuffle forward, will you", he said
quietly, and, as I did so, I felt the tip of my dick
touch her skin.  I really do wish I hadn't seen her,
as the sensation felt OK.  But the thought of that
mound of lard lying there waiting for me was too much,
and I went to pull away.

"East, Steve!", the overseer whispered so the others
could not hear.  "Easy, boy.  Come on, you can do it -
you've done it before.  And it will soon be over.
Now, forward...."  With that he gave my butt a sharp
tap with a cane - something that was totally
unexpected  as I couldn't see it coming - and I shot
forward in to her.

He had to stand behind me for the first few strokes,
his hot, sweaty hands on my hips as he pushed me
backwards and forwards in and out of her - well, not
pushed me, exactly, as I could have resisted with the
strength I have... More like "guided" me, and I
suppose I went along with it as I didn't know whether
he was holding the cane, or even a prod, to make me
react.  But after that - well, you know how it is:
even the oldest, slackest cunt can grip you and give
you a bit of a thrill and, frankly, my reflexes took
over and soon I was fucking her like a jack hammer.
It didn't take me all that long to cum, actually, but
once I had  I was careful not to fall forward on to
her as I usually did to a bitch - I really didn't
fancy feeling her flesh!  And, of course, the overseer
made me wait there with my dick inside her for a few
minutes, as they always reckon it gives my little
"swimmers" more of a chance, and that wasn't all that
pleasant as her rather rank smell came to me as I
stood there feeling slightly foolish, knowing that a
lot of other men were watching me as my dick gradually
softened.

When I was finally allowed to pull out of her the
overseer went to undo my blindfold, but I whispered to
him "Please, no". The sight of the bitch in her slave
smock had been bad enough, and I thought that if I had
to look at what I'd just been forced to fuck lying
there naked, I'd probably throw up, or have bad dreams
for weeks, or both!  So I heard, rather than saw, my
owner come over and say briskly to the overseer "Clean
him up well - scrub him down and get all traces of the
bitch off him and get rid of the sweat - I see his
exertions have made him very hot.  Then bring him over
to the house - but keep him in his studding gear."

"With the gag and bit, sir?"

"Yes, I think so."

With that my owner walked off and I could hear him and
the Pastor discussing my performance, just as if I was
some sort of animal rather than a human being.
Although the pastor was keen to point out that "God
loves all his creatures, even slaves, and delights
when they serve their owners properly just as we serve
Him."

The overseer took me off to another part of the barn
where there was a shower for slave use, and seemed to
enjoy cleaning me up - well, I reckon he did, given
the amount of effort he put into soaping his hands and
then running them all over me, and right down my ass
crack, too.  And he certainly didn't fail to obey my
owner's instructions to make sure my dick and pubes
were really clean - I thought he was never going to
stop stroking them, and, indeed, with the chemicals
still surging through me I was really hard and I think
he liked that.  Like a lot of married men (I could see
his ring on his finger) I think he secretly enjoyed
this opportunity to play with another guy's dick -
even though he was an overseer, he didn't get to do it
very often as it was usually a slave who cleaned up
other slaves.

He then took me over to the house - and it would have
been easy for him to have guided me by the elbow, or
even by taking a grip on my biceps, as he had when I
was first blindfolded.  But instead he chose to lead
me using my hard dick as a handle, with the
consequence that by the time he'd led me up the rear
stairs and left me in my owner's workroom, my dick was
positively aching from being so hard, and there was a
big bead of pre-cum hanging out of my piss slit.

I wondered if I should sit down and did not at first
do so, but after standing there for over half an hour
I thought what the fuck, and slumped down onto the big
leather couch - it felt cool and sensuous against my
bare skin, and, to tell you the truth, I dozed off to
sleep!  So I didn't leap to my feet when my owner
eventually did come in, and that really pissed him off
 - in fact he woke me up by striking me across my pecs
with a thin punishment cane, and that made me yell as
those of you who've been struck there will know that
it really hurts your tits.  I couldn't scream, though,
with the fucking gag in my mouth, and couldn't rub to
aching tits to give them some relief as I was still
cuffed, so I had to stand there, shifting my weight
uneasily from foot to foot as my owner glared at me.

"You fucking rebel!" he started.  "How dare you sit
down on my couch.  Look, your vile sweat has made the
leather damp.  There was a time when I enjoyed working
out with you and you were a good, pleasant obedient
kind of slave, and you'd never have dreamed of sitting
without permission, especially when you're stark
naked!"

I wanted to say "And whose problem is it, really?  Who
had me put in here and just forgot about me?  Who
makes me go around nude?  Who had stuff given to me
that has made me sweat so much that it's left a mark
on your couch?", but of course nothing came out
through the gag.

"I made a mistake", he continued.  "All those years
when I treated you well, only to have you rebel.  I
thought of you as a companion, someone to work out
with and run with.... And all the time you were
harbouring rebellion, and were not really obedient,
but deceitful.  All those years.... When I could have
been making even better use of your body."

He seemed to get calmer then and went on more quietly
"But this afternoon I realised what I had been
missing.  Seeing you in action as you studded gave me
the most amazing view of that butt of yours:  the
hard, firm deeply-clefted butt itself, and those long,
muscular thighs of yours. It was thrilling to see how
the skin and muscle moved as you fucked away like an
animal, and I was really very aroused - and if you
could have seen her you would know that it was not the
bitch that was causing it!"

"Then it occurred to me that I could perhaps kill two
birds with one stone, as the old saying goes:  I could
perhaps give myself some real enjoyment and pleasure,
and at the same time remind you of your true position
in the world - a slave, someone who I own totally, and
can do with as I choose.  So I have decided to fuck
you, Steve, and fuck you hard:  I remember when I took
your cherry when you first came here, and I did enjoy
it then but decided to leave you alone after that as
I wanted you to function well as a personal trainer.
But seeing that butt of yours today made me realise
how exciting it would be to experience it again....
And perhaps again and again.  And as I take you, use
you for my pleasure, you will be constantly reminded
that you are a slave, here to serve my will, and for
no other reason."

"No!", I tried to cry, but the fucking gag stopped me.

"I see you are agitated!  Come now, it can't be all
that dreadful, taking my dick rather than young master
Rob's."

I shook my head vigorously, trying to indicate that
Rob didn't fuck me, but he went on "Yes, Steve - I
expect Rob is too gentle with you, in spite of this
tough image he portrays.  But I will not make that
mistake:  I will take you hard, very hard, and I have
a way of making sure you truly will remember my dick."

With that he rang a small hand bell on the table, and
one of the servant slaves instantly appeared.  "Fetch
the new apparatus", he snapped.  "And be quick about
it, unless you want a session in it yourself!"

"Yes, Steve", he went on, as he moved close to me and
ran his hand proprietorially over my butt.  "Hard,
very hard.  A big tough guy like you probably does not
really know what a dick plunged into him for its full
length is really like:  even though I am above average
as far as dick size is concerned, when I last fucked
you not a whole lot of it penetrated you as you have
such magnificent butt muscles.  It's almost as if you
have some nigga blood in you, the way your butt is
carried so high, and is so deliciously round. And a
dick has to navigate all that depth before it can
enjoy your hole.  But I saw this new apparatus in
'Modern Slave Owner' and it claims to be ideal for use
with slaves like you.  Well, we shall see!"


End Of Part Thirteen