Date: Thu, 27 Apr 2006 22:58:32 -0700 (PDT)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Slave Show, Part  Fourrteen

THE SLAVE SHOW

By Pete Brown.   petebrownuk @ yahoo.com
Read all of Pete's stories at
groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories

Part  Fourteen

Julie was so relieved to see us back safely, and we
were all astonished when on the Wednesday there on the
news stand at the station was one of the tabloids with
"Free Steve!" In huge letters filling the entire front
page.  Inside, "A special article by our star reported
Jason Carter" castigated the British Government for
bowing to "The African scum who infest the United
Nations" and "enslaving one of those men who Britain
ought to be proud to call its own."

It went on to talk about my career in the army, and
how I was now "Acknowledged to be one of the finest
specimens of manhood in the country" as I won prizes
for it.  And then, of course, it went on to ask how I
could have been enslaved, and it urged readers to log
on to their website and say what they thought, and to
text a special number.... And to cut out the front
page and paste it into their car windows!

Well you know how these things can go - this
particular campaign seemed to fire the public
imagination and within days we started to see "Free
Steve!" stickers in car windows, and a gang of lads
was prosecuted for climbing over a whole lot of the
bridges on the M25 and daubing them with "Free Steve!"
In huge letters.  Jason's paper never let up either,
and almost every day there was another article about
it, with pictures of me they got from somewhere in my
army uniform, side by side with one of me in the tiny
loin cloth!  Julie was besieged during he day with
reporters outside the house waiting for Dan and me to
come home, and Dan was interviewed on the TV news
(although, as the anchorman explained, "Steve is not
able to appear as broadcasting regulations
specifically prohibit slaves from speaking on  radio
and television".)

On the Last Night Of The Proms, the audience, instead
of waving Union Jacks as they sang "Rule Britannia!"
all had Free Steve!" Flags instead, provided outside
the Albert Hall by the paper.  And the high point of
the campaign was probably reached when the Prime
Minister was on one of those serious discussion
programmes on TV when he made a little speech about
the economy and was going to be asked questions from
the "invited studio audience":  it all went well for
the first couple of questions, but then this little
old lady was given the microphone and said quietly
"Prime Minister, why won't you free Steve?  And why
was he enslaved in the first place?"  He waffled on
about "the rule of law" and "international
obligations" and thought that would do, but she turned
on him!  "That could be my grandson!", she said.
"Doing the best for his country, and then being
betrayed.  It's not good enough!  Now, why can't you
free Steve?"

There was cheering form the audience, and as hard as
he could, the Prime Minister just couldn't get away
from that little old lady who, irrespective of the
"protocol" on those programmes, refused to give up the
microphone, and kept saying to the presenter "I really
don't understand why the Prime Minister can't answer a
simple question simply!  I've asked him if he thinks
that what's happened to Steve is right, and he won't
give me a yes or no!".  The audience began chanting
"Answer her, answer her....", and they had to take the
programme off the air ten minutes early.

The papers reported the next day that the Prime
Ministers' popularity ratings, in a "telephone poll
late last night of our readers" had slumped ten
points.  And they were full of those blurry images
grabbed form TV of the little old lady standing there,
and of transcripts of her direct questions and his
evasive answers.  She was known as "Granny Green", I
remember, and the papers were all asking if you
wouldn't be glad to have her as your mother or
grandmother, if "you were doing your duty and were
then enslaved for it". After that, of course, every
Prime Minister's Questions in Parliament was just full
questions about the "Steve issue" and British policy
to the UN, and Britain's sovereign rights,  and so on.

In an effort to regain some of its ground, the
Government  got eminent lawyers to explain how a
permanent indenture, like mine, was just that as it
was the intention to send a "clear message to
criminals" that permanent indenture meant just that.
So that "even if the Government wanted to free Steve,
it was not able to."  All that then happened was the
campaign changed slightly, to demand a revision of the
Indenture Acts.

The Government's popularity, as measured in the
opinion polls, continued to slide.  And within months
the popular "Action Man" dolls for kids now had
another soldier added to the range, called "Steve",
and "Barbie" got a new boyfriend, "Action hero Steve,
who cares for his fellows".    It just went on and on,
and when fifty thousand students and workers marched
from Hyde Park to Parliament Square, causing the
biggest traffic chaos ever seen in London, it was
clear that the whole country was involved - this
wasn't something that the right or left wing wanted:
everyone, it seemed, wanted to "free Steve!".

It took nine months, and by then comedians were making
the government a laughing stock as they said that a
"new Steve could have been conceived and born in less
time", but the Indentured Felons (Revision) Act was
finally passed.  We (that is to say me and the seven
other blokes in my squad who'd also been enslaved)
weren't mentioned by name, but it gave the Courts the
right to "review indenture cases if this seemed to be
in the public interest."

There was the biggest TV audience for Cruft's ever
that year, and when Dan led me on the whole audience
in the show ring rose to its feet, cheering.  Then
before the judging began, the normally upbeat and
cheery commentator actually asked "For a respectful
one minute of silence in solidarity for those who have
been shamefully treated by our society."

Needless to say, I won "Best In Show" as no judge
could possibly have awarded me anything else, and
afterwards, stark naked except for my collar and the
special rosette clipped to my left nip, Dan led me up
to the TV studio perched high above the arena (by this
time it had been decided that at the very top level,
when the group champions were competing, the judges
needed to see all the slave, and so even the tiny
loincloths were dispensed with).  I stood there in
front of an audience of millions, and although they
were interviewing Dan, I knew they could see all of
me.

"So, Dan, as the owner and trainer of Steve, you must
be very proud....", the interviewer began.

"Yes, Sue.  But we're always proud of Steve.  He not
only shows superbly, as you can see from looking at
him, but he's a great guy!  He's always concerned for
others, always does his best...."

"There's obviously a lot of controversy about
Steve...."

"Indeed there is, Sue.  And it's so unfair.  A man
like Steve ought to be an example to us all,  not a
slave!  If I could, I'd release him tomorrow...."

"If as seems likely, Dan, the law is changed, will you
be sad?"

"Of course not!  Steve deserves his freedom!  My wife
Julie, and the kids, will miss Steve dreadfully, as
will I.  He's not just a show slave, you know - he
lives with us, as part of the family.... And it will
be like losing a very special dog, or cat.  My
youngest has grown up with Steve in the house.... How
are we going to explain to him that Steve's no longer
there?  But it's absolutely the right thing to do...."

And so it went on and on, and I was beginning to get
worried that I couldn't stand there much longer
without starting to get an erection!

Whilst all this was going on the relationship between
Dan and me really suffered, though - we had to keep on
going to work, and we had to keep going to Shows, as
Dan needed the money not only for the family's normal
living and housing expenses, but to service the loan
he'd taken out to buy me.  But the porno market dried
up completely - for which I was heartfeltedly  glad -
although it caused Dan terrible problems as that was a
valuable income stream for him (it seemed that the
porno makers thought that they'd be in big trouble if
they dared use a slave who had become a national
icon).  If I listened very carefully at night I could
hear him telling Julie how worried he was, as he was
having to take out extra loans to be able to service
his current debt.  I could tell Julie must have been
hugging him and trying to soothe him from the way I
could faintly hear the bed squeak, and I felt almost
insanely jealous that it was not my arms around Dan
and that my cock wasn't lying alongside his.

What was worse, of course, is that Dan and I had no
privacy.  There were often reporters lurking around
the house, or the site.  And on the trains passengers
were always coming up and shaking Dan's hand and
saying "Free Steve!", and some of them even shook my
hand and told me how sorry they were for me.  So we
couldn't risk snatching even a brief thirty minutes in
the woods on the way home from the station, and when
we went to Shows Dan was always being asked for his
autograph, and to speak at owners' meetings, so we did
not have time there either.    I wanted Dan so
desperately, and yet all  I could do was lie there on
the sofa wanking, as I heard him and Julie fucking
above me - and it's not as if it was just the physical
contact that was lacking, either:  we couldn't even
talk about how much we missed each other as so many
ears appeared to be listening now.

At last, though, Dan received the Court summons
requiring him to appear at the Chelmsford Crown Court,
together with  "the Permanent Indentured Servant known
as Steve", and on that great day Julie kissed me on
the cheek and whispered "Good luck!", as Dan and I
left.  There were some provisions already in place for
the Court's dealings with slaves as permission was
needed if, for example, a slave was guilty of such
heinous crimes that he was to be executed, so when we
arrived Dan was directed to the upper floor, and a
uniformed guard came to take me down to the basement.

Slaves always appeared naked before the Court, it
seemed, and even though this was a very different kind
of hearing as I confidently expected to be a free man
at the end of it, this was no different:  the guard
curtly ordered me to strip, and then he stood there
watching me as I was told to shower to "ensure I was
sweet-smelling in the Court", before herding me along
a short corridor and into a holding cage.  To my
amazement there in the cage were my old buddies - or
some of them, anyway, although at first I had
difficulty in recognising them.

There were eight of us in my patrol group and we had
all been enslaved together after Africa, and now seven
of us stood there.  Three of my mates had been sent
down the mines - although the last coal mines had
closed in the nineteen eighties, they had been
re-opened as the energy crisis deepened, and were now
of course worked exclusively by slaves.  My mates
looked dreadful - for one thing, there were absolutely
pale alabaster white, as they never came to the
surface they said (no, not ever!) and so lived their
lives entirely underground.  As a consequence of this
they had failing eyesight as it was not considered
necessary to light the entire mine brightly and they
were always peering through dust and gloom, and were
nearly unable to stand upright as even the main
corridors and so on were only dug out to the minimum
height necessary to get a stooping man through!  What
was worse, though, was that their elbows and knees
were covered in an ugly thick layer of hard skin and
scar tissue, and their toes were bend and deformed -
the actual work area, where they had to dig the coal
out from the surrounding rock, was not often only
three or so feet high (all the bigger seams having
been mostly worked out when the mines closed before)
and so they had to work on hands and knees, or even on
their bellies!  One of them whispered to me that he
reckoned they were lucky, as it was rumoured that
shortly all the mine slaves were going to have their
cocks and balls surgically removed - they weren't,
after all, necessary, and the mine owners had had a
study done that concluded that the men were not
working as hard as they could because they were
worried about the pain from their cocks and balls as
they scraped along the floor.

Two others had been working as dray slaves, pulling
the heavy delivery carts that were now used for all
city and suburban deliveries rather than fossil-fueled
vans and trucks, and their backs, bums and thighs were
an ugly mass of scar tissue from where they were
almost constantly subjected to the whip, to make them
work hard and pull their heavy loads up the hills..


Tony, who was always slightly built, not like the rest
of us, seemed to be in good shape though:  he stood
there naked and he was evenly tanned all over, and
nicely muscular.  I found myself speculating of how
good it might be to get my cock up between his hard,
firm buttocks (something I'd never have thought of
when we were in the barracks together), but when I
went over to speak to him, I found that  what they'd
done to him was disgusting:  he had a slight lisp,
now, as every one of his teeth had been extracted, and
his face was kind of hollow and sunken.  "I work in a
brothel, Steve", he said quietly.  "And the clients
think it's better for slaves giving blow jobs to have
nice smooth gums.  Some clients are worried that the
slave is going to bite their cock off, and the
management like to give them this reassurance."  Even
worse was what they'd done to Chas, who'd always been
a bit of an athlete and had long, strong legs:  we
used to joke it was so he could run away if the going
got tough, but it was just a joke, of course, as we
were a real fighting team.  He was pretty skinny
looking, I'll say that, with his ribs sticking out
almost painfully and his sinewy muscles making harsh
lines everywhere, and when I went to give him a hug he
almost flinched as my arms went around him and I
thought he might snap as he was so thin!  He didn't
return my greeting, either - just pointed at his
mouth.

Tony came up and said "It's OK, Steve!  Chas can't
speak now.  He's owned by one of the sick bastards who
comes regularly to the place where I work - I used to
get to talk to Chas when his owner was fucking one of
the other lads sometimes, as Chas was his pony - he
had to pull the rickshaw through the streets.  Chas
was thought to be really good for that with those long
legs of his - but then of course it became
"fashionable" for rickshaw ponies to look skinny and
starving as owners thought you ought to be able to
easily count their ribs.  So poor old Chas has to work
just as hard, but on dramatically reduced rations so
he looks a bit like a skeleton!  He lost all the
ability to have sex, of course, as his weight
plummeted and his body started keeping everything in
reserve to stay alive.  And then the bastard had him
muted:  Chas and the other ponies used to lie in the
stables just talking quietly at night, and their owner
thought this was too "human",  so he had the vet came
in and cut all their vocal chords!

No one seemed to know where the eighth guy was, and
when we stood in Court later, we heard that he'd been
killed:  he was working on the M1, re-doing the tarmac
on the inner lane and they hadn't bothered to properly
slow the traffic down as they didn't want to cause
congestion , so the middle and outer lanes were still
running at full speed.  Some inattentive driver just
clipped a whole bunch of working slaves as he fiddled
with his CD changer, and of course there was no
comeback other than his insurance had to pay the
construction company their value, and he got a couple
of points on his licence.

It was pretty humiliating to be in the Court as it was
packed with reporters and TV cameras, and all seven of
us kind of huddled together in the slave cage to one
side, trying not to expose ourselves too much.  Well
it wasn't so bad for me, actually, as after Cruft's I
was used to being photographed and stuff without a
stitch on, but for the others it was pretty bad -
especially for the miners, who weren't used to the
lights, and to seeing people in large numbers either.
It took all day to go over "the facts" of our case, a
day in which we had to stand there and say absolutely
nothing as slaves aren't allowed to address the Court
- I suppose it was "good" of them to have us there at
all, really:  if you were deciding on the ownership of
a herd of cattle or something, you wouldn't have them
there, would you?

I reckon it was a foregone conclusion.  I know the
Courts are supposed to be independent, but with the
General Election coming up the Government didn't want
this mess rumbling on.  So at around four o'clock the
judge retired to consider his verdict - and was back
five minutes later, and we were free!    There was
pandemonium then, of course, as it was absolutely
unacceptable for free men to appear naked in public
and the TV cameras swivelled wildly backwards and
forwards as the Court ushers vainly tried to find
blankets and stuff to cover us!  Then we had to be
ceremonially uncollared - Dan handed the key to my
chain up to an usher, so it was easy.  But they had no
experience of freeing Indentured Servants, so the
heavy iron collars on the other blokes proved a real
problem.  And when it was finally done, I saw another
example of how cruel my mates had been treated, as
they all had heavy scabs and scarring around their
necks where the collars had rubbed and chafed, and
made constantly open sores.

I was almost in a daze as we dodged the reporters and
made our way to Liverpool Street for the train "home"
- well, I had nowhere else to go, and I did think of
the little house out in the wilds of Essex as "home",
I suppose.   It was still rush hour, and Dan and I
elbowed our way into the train and grabbed two seats.
Some bloke who we saw every now and then got on just
as the train was about to leave, and made his way over
to us "On your feet, boy", he told me in that
self-satisfied way that suggested he was looking
forward to sitting down now.

"Fuck off, mate!", I snapped back casually.  "I'm not
a slave. And if you call me 'boy' ever again, I'll ram
your teeth so far down your throat they'll come out of
your ass..."

"Steve!", Dan hissed.  "Watch the language, mate!
You're not on the site now."

I was in a fever of excitement sitting next to Dan and
wanted to put my arms around him, my hands on him....
All things I couldn't do on the train and I had to be
content with pressing my thigh and calf right up close
to his as we sat there, feeling his warmth faintly
through our jeans.  And then, of course, we couldn't
risk stopping on the way back from the station in case
a reporter was following us, and we had to do an
interview for the TV crews outside the house before
they would let us in:  Dan stood there with his arm
around Julie, holding little Liam, and Shane jumped up
and insisted he sat on my shoulders.  But they weren't
interested in what we had to say, really - it was just
closing off a story for them.

Dan opened a cheap bottle of wine for us to have with
our supper, and Julie had made one of my favourites -
a big steak and kidney pudding, which, as she pointed
out, just got better and better the longer it steamed
so it didn't matter that we were so late.  Then she
reached out and held my hand.  "I'm so happy for you,
Steve", she said.  "Now we can all be friends.  I
always liked you, Steve, and you know I even trust you
with the boys.  But you can't be friends with a slave,
as the old saying goes...."

"There may be more of a problem here, though!", Dan
cut in. "You may have to get used to just 'liking' me
- Steve's a free man now, but I've still got this
fucking huge loan that I took out to buy him.  And
it's been hard making the payments without the porno
work - there's no fucking chance, now that I no longer
have Steve's earnings at the site, or winnings from
Shows...."

"Daniel!  You know I don't like you using the F word
in the house... The boys....."

"Jules, this is fucking serious, OK?  If I can't make
the payments, they'll make me Indentured to work to
pay off the debts...."

"Dan, don't worry - I'll go on working on the site.
I've got to work, after all.  And I'll pay for my
board and lodging....  That will help..."

"No it won't, Steve.  You won't have a job on the
site, will you?  You've got no skills, no education.
All you can do is labour.  And all the labouring is
done by slaves.  So there's no job on the site for you
now."

"So I'll work somewhere else..."

"What at, Steve?  There's not much call for blokes
without degrees any longer."

I sat there in shock, and Julie's lip began to
tremble, as if she was going to cry.  I could hardly
bear it.  "What's going to happen to Shane and Liam
and me, Dan?  I knew this whole idea was stupid.... If
you'd just worked away, and got promoted... But this
get-rich quick scheme to buy a slave...."

I reached out for Julie's hand now.  "Don't worry -
the game's not over until the final whistle blows.
Something will turn up.  There must be work for me
somewhere....  And I will pay you rent, and that will
make the difference...."

"But you can't go on living here, Steve!  There's not
room, especially as the boys are growing.  And....
And, well, there's something you don't know.... I'm...
That is to say Dan and me.... Well we're expecting
another as well.  It was all right for you to sleep on
the sofa as a slave, but we couldn't have a man living
here in the living room...."

I looked hard at Dan, who'd always said he sort of
"cuddled" Julie to keep her company but that he didn't
really fuck her since he'd been  going with me.  He
had the decency to blush a bit, at least!

"No, we'll make do, at least for the time being.  And
it won't be a huge problem for another few months with
the new baby....?"  I tried to sound cheerful, but
felt pretty depressed at the thought of Dan fucking
away like that.

Anyway the dinner was pretty much over then, the happy
mood destroyed, and Julie said she wanted to go up,
and Dan followed her immediately - I suspect because
he wanted to avoid me confronting him.   I just lay
there on the fucking uncomfortable sofa, and had no
satisfaction from being free again, and I didn't even
feel like wanking immediately.

Dan avoided my gaze the following day, too - which
wasn't so difficult since he went off on the early
train leaving me lying asleep on the sofa.  So Julie
woke me up, and without thinking, I swung my legs on
to the floor and went to go up to the bathroom.

"Steve!", she squealed.  "Put something on.....  It's
disgusting:  You're just like Dan, with that thing
always erect when he wakes up...."

"It's OK, Julie.  Sorry - but it's not as if you
haven't seen it before:  you did groom me for all the
shows, didn't you?"

"But it's different when you were a slave, Steve!  I
won't have you naked around the house now - it's not
polite!  That's what I mean about it being unsuitable
for you to go on living here.  But I don't know how
we're going to manage, and I'm terrified Dan will get
into trouble about the loans...."

I pulled my boxers on then put my arms around her
protectively.  "Look, Julie, don't worry - something
will  turn up.  You've got two men looking after you,
you know:  Dan and me.  We'll sort something out
between us."

I had the rest of the day off as a sort of holiday -
after all, I'd been working every day since I left the
army, and I didn't have much time off there, either,
with all the little wars we were sent to.  So I
strolled around the countryside, and ended up at the
station waiting for Dan's train.

He saw me as soon as he got off, and put his head down
as if trying to avoid eye contact.  But I wouldn't
have it.  "Dan...."  I grabbed his arm to get his
attention.  "Dan, I thought you said you didn't fuck
Julie any longer - it was you and me...."

"Just a mistake, Steve.... You must remember how it is
sometimes - the woman pulls you into her, and then
it's bloody difficult to avoid giving it to her....
That's why she's in the club:  I wasn't expecting it,
so I didn't have a condom or anything..."

I looked at him. "Are you bullshitting me, Dan?  I've
heard all the creaking from the bed, through the
ceiling..."

"Just getting comfortable, that's all - it's you I
want, Steve...."

We were walking past the woods then, so I pulled him
in.  "Steve, no....", he muttered, trying to break
free of my grasp.  "Not tonight - we need to get
home...."

"Yes, Dan.  Just a quickie.  I'm desperate for you,
mate.  My cock needs that  bum of yours...."

"No, Steve... We can't... Julie's expecting us.  And I
haven't got my spare underpants with me - she'll see
all your semen stains all over these...."

"Fuck that, Dan!  Make some excuse.  I need you, and
I want you, and we're going to fuck.... Now...."

I pulled him into the shadow of the trees, so we
couldn't be seen from the road, and then started to
kiss him.  He resisted at first as I went to kiss him,
but once my tongue was down his throat his resistance
melted, and I kept one arm around him as I fumbled to
open his fly, and then to caress and fondle his cock.
He didn't seem to be responding to me properly,
though, so  I thought he needed a bit of
encouragement:  I put my hands on his shoulders and
pressed down, and he soon got the idea he should
kneel, and then get my cock out and start to tease it
with his tongue.  I held his head with my hands on
both sides, and began to fuck his face, at first
gently, and then with more and more vigour, until my
excitement was so great that I thought I was going to
cum.  I pulled out of him then, hauled him to his feet
and kissed him again, then started to nibble his ear,
whispering "Come on, Dan... You want my cock, don't
you?  You want it up your bum, deep in you....."

"Steve, no.... Please.  Let me just blow you....  I
don't want to be fucked...."

Well, I have to admit, I lost my temper a bit then.  I
thought he'd been "cheating" on me, whereas I'd been
waiting for him.  So I pushed him over to where there
was a horizontal branch from one of the willow trees,
told him to grab hold of it so that his body was bent
at right angles, then pulled his jeans and underpants
down and went into him.

He shouted a lot at first, until I slapped his bum a
few times to remind him who was running the show, but
I have to tell you it wasn't a very good fuck:  I was
angry, and almost ready to cum before my cock felt his
arse, and the consequence was that I only had a few
good thrusts before I was shooting up into him.  Or
perhaps it was that my anticipation of this "first
fuck" as a free man was so great that the reality of
it could never match it.

I helped him wipe himself really clean afterwards, and
even gave him some paper hankies so he could stuff
them up his arse as a kind of stopper, to prevent my
cum from leaking out of him.  Then we set off for
home, with Dan walking with that sort of suppressed
anger that blokes do sometimes.  After a few minutes I
was really pissed off by him, and grabbed his arm
again and almost shook him, I was so cross.

"Dan, stop fucking around, OK?  If we go in like this,
Julie will know something's wrong!  We're meant to be
mates.... When I was your slave and we came home, we
were always at least smiling.  If you go in with a
face like a wet weekend she'll know there's something
wrong, and will start to ask a whole lot of questions
to find out why....  So fucking cheer up, OK?  And
start talking, tell me about the site...."

"Fuck you, Steve!  I told you I didn't want sex
tonight.   Some people would call what you did earlier
rape."

"Oh grow up, Dan!  It's not rape - I've fucked you
lots of times."

"Its' rape, Steve ,when the other bloke doesn't want
to do it."

"Well you would have enjoyed it if you hadn't been so
bloody uptight - why don't you want me, anyway?  I'm
absolutely desperate for you...."

"I guess it's because I'm so worried, about the loans
and everything...."

"Cheer up, then!  It's not so bad being a slave, you
know - especially with a good owner!  I don't think
they'll put you down the mines, as you're a it on the
small side   But you might enjoy being in a brothel -
although it would be no good saying you didn't feel
like it, or you didn't want to, if you were on the
staff there."

"It's OK for you, Steve - you're free now.  But it's a
real possibility for me...."

"And for me!  You seem to forget that I've not got a
job, and there's no prospect of getting one, according
to you. So I might get Indentured again, as I've got
nowhere to live, and no money... So let's work on this
together, shall we?"

Dan nodded, and I put my arm around his shoulder and
pulled him close to me.  "OK then - first joint task,
Dan is a big smile from both of us!  Julie's worried
enough as it is, without adding to it.  And I'm sorry
for fucking you like that, OK?  But you seem to forget
that I'm a man, and a man has urges, and needs...."

We walked home then, with my arm still around Dan's
shoulder, and we had fish and chips,  I seem to
remember, and a couple of beers.  And when Julie said
she was tired, Dan and  I sat together on the sofa and
it was just great - we didn't play with each other or
anything, but just being there, next to each other,
with the TV on and a beer in our bellies, was
fantastic:  this is what it's like to be real mates.

Dan wasn't working the next morning as it was
Saturday, and I'd seen posters saying that there was a
slave show in Clacton, and I asked Dan if he'd drive
me there as I was interested in seeing one "from the
other side" (they hadn't got around to restoring my
driving licence and stuff like that yet).  He looked
at Julie, who smiled at him and said "Oh go!  You two
men need some private time together to sort yourselves
out, now you're no longer owner and slave.", so off we
went.

It was odd, actually, having to pay to go in, and then
walking around on the "other" side of the arena and
stuff.  We made for the rest and preparation area, and
there was Joe and the Captain.

The Captain was punctiliously correct, as you'd
probably imagine, and shook Dan's hand, and then
stretched out to do the same to me, adding "...now
you're a free man too, Steve."  And when Joe went to
hug me, as we always did, the Captain was incensed and
commanded him to stand there at slave rest, as it was
outrageous that a slave should even think of touching
a free man.  It didn't stop me, though, and with the
Captain's permission I went and hugged Joe, and then
ran my hands lightly over his body, complimenting him
on the magnificent condition he was in.

We stood there chatting about slave showing in general
then, and suddenly the Captain said to Dan "I don't
suppose you'd be interested in buying Joe, now you've
no longer got Steve to show, would you?"

"I would, but I'm broke!".  Dan actually did look a
bit upset, as I reckon he actually enjoyed the Shows.
He went on "But why are you selling Joe?  He's in the
peak of condition, and there's several years of
trophies in him yet, I reckon!"

"I don't want to, Dan, but my daughter's just given
birth in Australia, and I need to go and see my
grandson.... Keeping the old genes alive in the race,
and all that sort of thing, you know.  She wants me to
go for six months, and there's no way  I can leave Joe
for that time - even if I paid to board him at a
kennels, they wouldn't exercise him properly, wouldn't
show him.... He's a lazy bugger sometimes, and when I
got back he'd be all out of condition and no good for
showing:  it would take me a year to get him 'right',
I reckon.... So the simplest thing is to sell him now,
and then buy something new when I get back.  I hate to
let him go, but I can't see any other way - I can't
afford to take him with me as the international
shipping rates for slaves are terrible - and, anyway,
my daughter would be cross as she wants me to focus on
my grandson:  she's just like her mother, you know,
very wilful, and I couldn't bear the row!"

"Well, sir, I have a plan", I cut in.  "Why don't you
pay Dan and me to look after Joe?  We'll board him,
but I'll make sure he's properly exercised, and Dan
will 'handle' him in the ring - he's good at that, as
you know.  That way Joe will keep winning those prize
certificates, and his value will stay up, and then
when you get back he'll be completely ready for
you...."

"Good god, Steve, you're a genius!  Just what's
needed!  A man with your abilities was wasted as a
slave, even though you were a pretty sight in the
ring!"

Well we argued - a bit, a very little bit, actually,
as we didn't want to fleece the Captain, but we did
need the money, and at the end of the Show (when Joe
got another prize), we drove home with him sitting in
the back of the car.

Julie was appalled, of course, even after we'd
explained about how we were being paid, and how we'd
agreed with the Captain that we could have half he
prize money Joe won, too.  She dished up the supper,
though, and put out a lot more bread as there was now
one more to eat it - and a big one at that - and then
as Joe and I shovelled our food down, she rounded on
poor Dan.

"I've told Steve that there's not room here for him
now, and you come and bring home another giant of a
man.... Where's he going to go?"

"Well he can sleep here, on the floor...."

"With two great big men in here sprawled out in the
morning, how do you think I'm going to get around?
And what's he going to do all day, with you down in
London?  You used to take Steve with you....  I
suppose you could get him a job on your site...."

"Well not really - we're way above ground level now,
and the number of slaves we need for grunt work has
really gone down - they sold ten off this week, so I
doubt  I could get the boss to pay me to bring Joe in.
 Anyway, it was Steve's idea...."

"Julie, it will be OK in here - I'm used to sleeping
close to other blokes.  I was in the army, remember,
and the beds in the barracks were pretty close
together...."

"No it will not be OK, Steve!  It was bad enough
having you on that sofa all the time, and there's no
way I'm going to put up with two of you."

"Well we could put Joe in the garden shed, I
suppose...."

"Steve, it's tiny!  It's only about four by three.
You can't expect a big man like Joe to sleep there...
I was only designed to hold the garden tools, not to
be a dormitory for the slaves you and Dan seem intent
on acquiring..."

Dan butted in "No, not the shed - but we do have that
tent up in the loft.  We haven't used it, Jules, since
we went camping together before Shane was born.... In
fact, I seem to remember it was about nine months
before....."

"Dan, you can't expect a slave to sleep in that
tent...."

"Why not, Julie?", I asked.  "When we were on
exercises, and when we were sent overseas, we all
slept in tents.  If you've got proper warm sleeping
bags, it's perfectly OK - the tent keeps you dry, and
the sleeping bag keeps you snug and warm.  I reckon
that would do for Joe."

"Well if it's so good, I suggest you go out there too,
Steve!  I told you the other morning it's not 'polite'
to see a free man nearly naked  every time I come into
the room.  No: if you want to stay, you'll have to
sleep in the tent.  And we do have two sleeping
bags.... Although they're the sort that zip together
to make one, as Dan and I know.... Not that that's
relevant to you and Joe, of course."

I saw a  slow smile creep over Joe's face, and
remembered how he was always trying to feel my cock -
I think that comment about the sleeping bags had
started him thinking.

Well it took some time to get the ladder, go up into
the loft, get the tent down, and then of course to try
to assemble all the bits and pieces in the right order
to make the frame:  Dan and Joe were utterly useless,
and it needed me to sort it all out and actually get
he thing up, by which time it was almost midnight.
Joe and I went out there then, and it was kind of odd
to be sleeping under canvas again, especially as
outside the tent flap we knew there was this tiny
suburban garden.  I couldn't help but admire Joe's
body as he slipped out of his clothes to climb into
the sleeping bag, and I thought I ought to exert my
authority from the outset.

"Now, Joe, no wanking!  I don't want Julie to have to
keep washing that thing because your cock snot has
dribbled all over it!"

"But Steve...."

"And I'm 'sir', when we're discussing orders!"

"But sir...  I can't not wank!   I won't be able to
sleep....  And it's not good for a bloke to have all
that cum building up in his balls, sir - you must know
that..."

"Well you can wank, then, but not in the sleeping bag.
 Unzip it, and make sure your cum soaks into the
grass.  I'll inspect it from time to time, and if I
find any hard patches of dried cum on the lining, I'll
tan your hide!"

"Sir, yes, sir."  I recognised the ironic tone in
Joe's voice, as I'd so often used it to Dan when he'd
said things like that.  "And will you be making sure
your cum soaks into the grass too, sir?  Do you want
me to turn over and look away when you've got your
cock out and are wanking it into the grass?"

We both burst out laughing then, and as we lay there,
side by side, I heard Joe whisper "Is your cock coming
out, sir?  Can I wank it for you, as you must be
tired?"

Well, where's the harm?  I mean I liked Joe, and he
had a great body and he was only a few years older
than me.  And it is a real turn on, isn't it, to have
another bloke wank you every now and then?  And after
I'd shot,  it seemed only fair to reciprocate, and
bloke's cocks feel nice, so I wanked Joe.  And then,
after that, just as I was drifting into sleep, Joe
whispered again "Steve, sir.... Can we zip the bags
together?  I'm kind of cold, sir.... I'm not used to
sleeping by myself, as the Captain always has me in
his bed at night..."

"The randy old sod!  So he fucked you every night?"

"No, Steve!  He couldn't get it up most of the time.
But he liked to have me spoon up to him in bed, an
then put my arm around him.... Perhaps I ought to
demonstrate, so you know what the Captain did?  I
mean, you are supposed to be looking after me until he
gets back from Australia...."

We sniggered quietly then, and I unzipped the bag and
we fumbled around trying to zip the damned things
together.  And then Joe, who was a n inch or so bigger
than me, came and spooned himself up against my back,
and put his arm across, letting the flat of his palm
kind of hover over my belly.  It felt so good to have
a warm body next to mine, especially that of a really
nice bloke like Joe.  But when his hand started to
move down and his fingers began to tease my pubes, I
thought it was too much - especially as I could feel
his cock nudging at my bum!

"Turn over, Joe", I whispered.

"What?"

"You heard!  I'm the master, and you're the slave,
remember?  And if there's any cocks to be played with,
and any cock going up a bum, it's going to be me that
does it!"

I always like that little soft spot at the nape of a
bloke's neck, right at the top of the backbone, and I
lay there then with my nose pressed in to Joe's skin,
drinking in his wonderful male scent as I let my hand
hold his cock, and wriggled my hips so that my cock
lodged into the deep cleft of his superb buttocks.


End Of Part Fourteen