Date: Thu, 18 May 2006 11:44:01 -0700 (PDT)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Slave Show, Part Twenty One

THE SLAVE SHOW

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

Part  Twenty One

For a moment, I thought I'd lost it.  Joe looked at
first shocked, and then defiant, and then terrified.
I knew I was running close to the edge, and that it
would take only a small mistake to tip Joe over into a
situation where he'd need to be at least whipped to
maintain my control, and I really did not want to have
to do that.  I was expecting him to be just a little
defiant, but why did he seem to be so terrified of
getting down to it and fucking Andy?  After all, it
wasn't as if he didn't like doing things like that -
he was always complaining that it was always me
fucking him, and that he did not get a chance to take
my arse.  And I knew that on those nights when I was
not using him, Joe would take his pick of the other
slaves and really get to work on them.  It therefore
ought to present no problems to get his cock up Andy -
there was no danger, as I would hold Andy down, just
as Joe had done, and no shame or fear of
embarrassment, as I'd commanded him to do it and he
would just be acting out his role as a slave.

But he knelt there, and said quietly, very quietly
indeed, "Sir, please, sir... Please, Steve.... Please
don't make me do this... If I mean anything at all to
you, Steve, don't make me...."

Hearing him lapse into the familiar "Steve", which was
allowed normally only when we were having sex, I knew
something was odd. And the way he flip-flopped between
"Steve" and "Sir" suggested that he was struggling in
confusion.  But I did need to exert my control, didn't
I?  So I snapped "All you mean to me, Joe, is that
you're a slave, and slaves obey.  Now, do as I tell
you - or take the consequences."

"I'm sorry, Andy....", Joe was whispering so silently
that I could easily not have heard that.  "I'm really
sorry, but I've got to do it....."

He started to move, and I took over holding Andy's
arms down.  Joe slowly and so reluctantly shuffled
down the bed, and lifted Andy's legs up, taking a firm
grip on the ankles.  "I'm sorry....", he said again,
and I snapped "Get in there and get fucking, Joe!  I
haven't got all day...."

Well, for someone who was really experienced at
fucking, and who enjoyed it, and who did it whenever
he could get away from me to take the pick of the
slaves, Joe was a disaster.  First of all he couldn't
get properly hard, and so it was really difficult to
get his cock into Andy even though I'd stretched him
and had already given him a good going over.  Then,
when he did eventually get in, he seemed to be
watching Andy's face all the time and listening to his
cries as if he was trying to manage his fucking to
cause the lad as little difficulty as possible.  Joe
really looked unhappy, and I tried to cheer him up.
"Come  on, Joe!  It's not often I let you fuck,
especially not a nice piece of young arse like
this.... Make the most of it, and get stuck in...."

Joe just carried on, pulling himself very slowly and
gently in and out of Andy.  I could feel myself start
to lose my temper.

"Joe, get fucking properly, will you?  Pretend it's
the new nigga, who I saw you giving a good shafting to
earlier in the week.... I want to see some action,
some proper action...."

Still Joe didn't react properly, and now I was really
cross.  I let go of Andy's arms - he made no effort to
do anything other than lie there - and got off the bed
to pick up the punishment cane I keep in the bedroom.
I don't have to use it, of course, but it's the sort
of thing a master has to have to hand always, isn't
it?

Standing behind Joe I swished it through the air
experimentally a number of times, so he could clearly
hear it.  Then I told him!  "Get fucking properly,
Joe, or the next slice of this cane will be across
your arse."

Joe just carried on, infinitely slowly and gently, and
almost in fury I struck at his bum as he knelt in
front of me.  I heard him give a sharp cry as the cane
struck, but I could see there was otherwise no effect
- Joe's iron will kept him plugging at it steadily, in
the way he had chosen to do it.    I was in a real
quandary now - either I could give in, which was
almost unthinkable, or I could slash and slash at Joe
until his bum was a tattered mass - and of course I
still had no guarantee of satisfaction.  I began to
wish I hadn't started this at all, as I felt my
control of the situation slipping.

I needed to find some way of exerting my authority,
some way of making Joe see that I would not be defied.
 Then I had it - I moved along the bed on my knees,
and, as Joe watched, I ran the tip of the cane lightly
over the lad's tiny tits - the small pink rings with
their minute teats were actually quite difficult to
see against Andy's pale skin.

I put my arm around Joe's shoulder as he carried on
his slow, gentle fucking and whispered in his ear
"Joe, what do you think would happen if I was to slash
across Andy's nips with this cane?  He's got no flesh
to cushion the blows, and I reckon it would be really
painful - no, more than that, it would be the most
excruciating agony for him.  So would you like me to
do that, Joe - just three or four hard strokes should
do the trick...."

"You bastard, Steve.... Please, don't.... It's not the
kid's fault...."

"So whose fault is it, Joe, that you're defying me?
And I know that caning you isn't going to get you to
act differently just at this moment.... So perhaps
really hurting Andy is the only option I've got
left....?"

"Steve, please, don't....."

"Get fucking, and fucking hard, Joe, or else those
little nips of Andy's are going to be hurting in a way
he's never felt before.  It's up to you, Joe....."

I saw Joe trying to decide, then he made up his mind.
He managed to stammer "I'm sorry....", not directed to
me, as it should have been, but to Andy!  Then he drew
his hips back and trust forward in a proper fuck.

The total unexpectedness of Joe's assault on his arse
caught Andy totally unaware, and he gave a great shout
of surprise mingled with pain, and then as Joe fucked
him, he began to shout "No, please, Joe... Don't,
please... You're hurting...."

Joe worked away with a vengeance now, as if he needed
to drown out Andy's screams and shouts by turning
inwards and focussing only on what he was doing.  It
seemed to go on and on, until Joe cried "Jesus
Christ... Oh, fuck me.....", and I could tell from the
way that his body arched, and then went still, that
he'd shot deep into the lad.

A moment later he was leaning forward over Andy's
body, desperately kissing Andy's neck and face, and
all the time muttering "I'm sorry.. . But it's over
now.... You'll be all right....."

I was really pissed off, I can tell you.  There's no
need to apologise when you've fucked another bloke, is
there?  I mean, you don't tell the bloke underneath
that you're sorry, if you're a free man.  So
especially not if you're  a slave and you've done it
because your master has ordered you to.  Joe slowly
pulled out and now lay beside the lad, putting one arm
under him and the other arm around him, to hold him
close.  I felt my anger surge, and was within an inch
of deciding to make a formal occasion of it and really
thrash Joe over a flogging horse;  but losing your
temper with slaves is almost what they want, I find -
it makes them feel that they've "won" in some way,
even if it resulted in a lot of physical pain for
them.   So I willed myself to be calm and collected,
and went and lay alongside Joe, on the other side to
Andy.  Joe stretched out his arm so I could lay my
head on it, and I slipped one leg across and between
his, so our cocks were almost touching, and we lay
like that for quite a long time as night fell.

As I lay there I began to wonder what the hell I'd
been doing.  After all, I didn't really want to fuck
Andy, other than to demonstrate my ownership, and I
could fuck Joe anytime I wanted to.  So why did I feel
this jealousy because Joe was trying to save Andy from
pain and distress?  I tried to analyse my feelings,
and got nowhere.  After all, I didn't really want Joe
at all - I wanted Dan, and I only used Joe because Dan
was mostly unattainable.  It just didn't make any
sense for me to be jealous of Joe and Andy being
together.

It must have been about three in the morning when I
was lying there, these thoughts still running around
in my brain.  I realised Joe was awake, too, although
judging from the heavy breathing I could hear, Andy
was sound asleep.

"Listen, Steve", Joe began hesitantly.  "I know I
oughtn't to be saying this, and you can have me
punished if you want, but I'm going to say it anyway.
You're a real bastard, you know that?  Making me fuck
Andy...."

"Andy needed cock, Joe.  He's a young, wilful slave,
and he needs to feel a master's cock deep in him so
that he gets to understand that he's a slave, and is
there to be used whenever his master wishes."

"I don't have too many problems with that, Steve:
you're right - it is a master's prerogative to fuck
his slave.  I know that, as you exercise that right on
me several times a week, even though you know I don't
like it."

"So what's your problem, Joe?"

"It's making me fuck him, Steve!  It's not right...
I'm old enough to be his father....  He's only just
turned sixteen, and I'm forty-two....."

"Don't be such an idiot!  There's a long history of
older men fucking younger ones, stretching right back
to the Greeks.  It does the young man good to know
there's an older one who's taking an interest in
him...."

"You don't see it, do you, Steve!  So perhaps I need
to spell it out to you - I was taking an interest in
Andy.  He's had a really tough life, and I was getting
him to see that it isn't all necessarily like that.
To see that by co-operating, by making the most of
things, he can have a good life, even as a slave.
He's had a rotten time of it, pushed around from one
place to another, being beaten and bullied, and just
as he's beginning to see that there's someone who
likes him and who takes an interest in him because he,
too, is quite a nice bloke, you come along and fuck it
all up!"

"Oh, Jesus Christ, Joe!  Get real!  I fucked him, as
I've got a perfect right to do.  Then you did - as I
ordered you to.  If you're so keen to let him see that
you take an interest in him, then fucking him's
actually a good way to show it."

"I'm not explaining this well, Steve.  Look, I wanted
Andy to know I was taking an interest in him just
because he's a nice kid - and it was paying off:  look
at how he was running the course the other day, and
how he works quite hard in the kitchens.    I was
working on it, and he understood that I thought he was
worthwhile, that he had potential.... Like a father
does with his son, Steve.  That was what I was working
on.  And then you made me fuck him - and all that
work's thrown away:  fathers don't fuck their sons,
Steve, or perhaps you hadn't noticed, as you're so
wrapped up in your own plans and life that you don't
see what's going on around you....."

Joe went silent then, and after a minute or so when he
saw I wasn't going to say anything, he almost
whispered "I like you, Steve, even though you're a
real bastard sometimes.  And I thought you liked me,
at least a little bit.  I can take the fucking, as
that's what a slave expects.  But I thought that you
listened to what I sad, that you cared about me, at
least a bit..."

"I do, Joe."

"But not enough to remember me telling you, several
times during the time we've been together, that I
never thought I'd end up as a slave.  That all I ever
wanted was a wife and a nice little house ,and some
nippers..... Well, I'm getting old, Steve, and it
isn't ever going to happen, is it?  But then Andy came
along, and he's like the son I never had, Steve....
And then you made me fuck him."

Joe had got it all wrong somehow in there, but I
honestly didn't know how to tell him so.  "All right,
you soft thing, I won't make you do it again..."

"It's too late, Steve.  I can never be like a dad to
the kid, now he's felt my cock up his arse.  It's not
natural."

"What better way can there be of showing someone that
you really care about them, that you love them, even,
than to fuck them?  I reckon a whole lot of fathers
and sons would get along a whole lot better if they
cuddled up to each other in bed, and then did what men
are supposed to do with their cocks."

Joe remained silent, and I tried to be more cheery, to
move things on.  "Anyway, Joe, what's done is done.
We can't turn the clock back, and we need to make the
most of where we are.  I reckon Andy still likes you
and respects you, so you'd better build on that - show
him that it's perfectly natural for one man to use
another's arse, and that's a special mark of love
between them."

"He won't let me fuck him again...."

"Don't be so stupid!  You're bigger and stronger, so
take him whether he wants to or not.  Once you've got
him properly broken in, he'll begin to see just how
special it is to have that cock of yours in him.
He'll get to know that he's the only one you fuck -
well, except when I want you to fuck a new arrival or
something, and that's work, and doesn't count - and so
he'll recognise he's really special to you."

"I wanted him to be like a son, though."

"And he would be!  You can be teaching him about sex
at the same time:  that's something fathers and sons
do all the time."

"From books, Steve...."

"More fool them, then!  I reckon if I had a nice lithe
sixteen year old son I wouldn't want to waste time
showing him pictures of how a cock worked.... I'd be
demonstrating it!"

"You don't understand...."

"...and neither do you!  You've not had kids, after
all, even though you keep going on about them."

We both lay there thinking, and we were very still and
silent in the middle of the night.  Only the gentle
sounds of Andy's breathing came to us.   I was worried
- I thought I'd really lost control of Joe, and I
wondered how I could demonstrate to him that I was
still his master.  I thought about fucking him, but
when I half rolled on to him and began to tweak his
nips - one of the signals I use to show him that I'm
serious about starting sex - he hardly responded at
all, and, in fact, even dared to put his hand over
mine, as if to stop me!  Then it came to me - but I
had to make a few preparations, as I was now so
worried about Joe's attitude that if my plan went
ahead he'd almost certainly resist vigorously.

I slid out of bed, and walked down the barn towards
the equipment room where we keep some of the stuff we
occasionally need for disciplining and controlling
very new slaves, and selected two pairs of cuffs.  As
I walked back through the ranks of sleeping slaves, I
was conscious that my cock was rock hard now, and I
could feel it bobbing up and down in front of me in
the way it does.

Back in bed, Joe was still lying motionless, and was,
I think, half asleep.  Before he could protest or
struggle, therefore, I moved his arm gently above his
head, then quickly snapped one set of cuffs closed
over his wrist and the bed head.  He noticed something
wrong when the cold metal went around him, and
reflexively tried to jerk his wrist away.  When he
found it was immobile, he tried to sit up, and
muttered "What the fuck.....?"

I'd anticipated this, though, and before he could do
anything else I'd pushed Andy out of the bed from the
side of Joe, and leapt astride Joe's body so all my
weight was on his chest.  It felt hot and sweaty as
the sensitive skin around my ass touched his hairy
torso, and my cock was drooling pre-cum on to him as I
sat there.  The sheer unexpectedness of it all worked
to my advantage, and I was able to grab his other
wrist and, with some struggle, admittedly, get the
second pair of cuffs to hold that to the bed head,
too.  Joe was almost shouting now.... "Steve, what the
fuck.....", and he was tugging and straining with his
arms in a vain effort to get free.

Andy was standing there I noticed from the corner of
my eye, rubbing his eyes, having woken from his sleep
- or, rather , having been woken by landing on the
floor on his skinny bum.  I got off Joe, who continued
to thrash around, and stood by Andy, now putting my
arm around his young shoulders in a firm gesture of
control.  "So.... Have you ever fucked?"

He looked at me in astonishment.  "No.... I wanted to,
but all the girls in the Social Services Homes were
always after older men - they wanted to get one of the
supervisors' cocks in them, so they could influence
them, and they wouldn't let me near them...."

"No, not women.  Didn't you ever try to get that cock
of yours up one of the other boys?"

"No!  I've told you, I'm not a poofter....."

"...and I warned you what would happen if you used
that word.  I ought to put you over my knee and spank
you, right here and now.... But I've got other plans
for you at this moment.  But don't think you'll be so
lucky next time."

I got on to the bed, pushing Joe's legs apart so that
I could kneel between them.  Joe could see my rampant
cock, and thought that I was going to fuck him, so he
didn't offer any resistance, and even stopped
struggling to try to break free of the cuffs.  "Here,
boy", I called to Andy, gesturing with my hand, "Up
here.... In front of me....."

He looked startled and concerned, and just stood
there.  "I said get up here!", I snapped.  "Come and
kneel in front of me....."

He looked at Joe, as if to ask him what he should do,
and Joe of course at once saw what my plan was.  He
began to struggle again, shaking the cuffs and
shouting "Steve, no, please.... Don't make him do
it.... Please, Steve.... Just fuck me, will you?  You
can do whatever you want, but not the kid....."

I looked down at him, along his body.  "You're right,
Joe.  I can do what I want.  And I want to try
something different right now, something with Andy."

"You bastard, fucking cunt....."

I smiled, and remained calm as Joe began to thrash
around violently now, even trying to kick at me with
his strong legs - but he stopped at once as I grabbed
his balls and squeezed them hard, to remind him of the
vulnerability of his position.

"You see, Joe, I think you sometimes forget you're a
slave.  I've allowed you a lot of liberties when we're
in bed, and perhaps it's my fault for letting you act
sometimes almost as if you're a free man.  But you're
not, Joe, and I can see now, from your outrageous
behaviour, that you need to be reminded that I'm your
master, I'm in charge, I control you."

I turned to Andy, and snapped "And you, you little
runt, get up here, as I commanded...."

"No!", he shouted.

I squeezed Joe's balls again, and Joe cried out with
the pain.  "Andy, if you don't obey me, Joe will be
hurt.  Hurt very much.  Have you ever had your balls
hit, Andy?  You don't want that for Joe, do you?"

The kid shook his head in despair, and looked at Joe
as if to say "sorry."  He scrambled up onto the bed,
and we went through a bit of manoeuvring to get him
kneeling in front of me - I opened my legs so his
could go between mine, and then I pushed my hard cock
so that it lay, as far as possible, down his tiny ass
crack.  With one hand still gripping Joe's balls, I
put my other arm around Andy's thin body, both to hold
him tight pressed back into me, and to remind him of
my overwhelming presence and of my dominance and
control.  I pushed my face down into that lovely part
of a man, between his neck and shoulder bone, and
breathed in the scent of him, his sweat containing all
those wonderful essences of manhood, overlaid with the
taint of fear and desperation.

I nibbled at his earlobe, feeling his body move and
gently writhe against mine, and I whispered
seductively into him "Now, Andy, I think you can guess
what you're going to do.... I want you to start
wanking yourself to get really nice and hard, and then
,when you are, we're going to move forward so that you
start fucking Joe's arse."

"No, no, please...", he whimpered.

I squeezed Joe's balls, and Joe cried out again.
"Yes, Andy.  Obey me, or Joe suffers."

He was rock hard almost instantly, of course, and I
let my hand roam down his flat belly to feel his cock
- his head had come out to play, as his 'skin had
retracted fully, and as I brushed my thumb over it, it
was agreeably moist.

"OK, Joe", I called.  "I suggest you behave!  If
you're violent, or kick, it's likely to be Andy that
gets hurt rather than me.  Now, I'm going to let go of
your balls, and then I'm going to pick up your legs
and open you out ready for Andy.... But he's right in
front of me, and any misbehaviour....."

Joe stopped struggling, but he turned his head
sideways on the pillow, as if to try to avoid looking
at what was going on, and I could see him biting his
lower lip in an effort to get control over himself.

It wasn't as difficult as I thought, actually - I
pushed Joe's legs wide apart and then forwards,
leaning my weight on them and using them to support
me, and this of course meant that my body pushed
against Andy's and made him go forward and in to Joe.
  He seemed to have the idea, actually -  he used his
own hand to stroke his cock a couple of times and
actually guide it into Joe, keeping it hard as he did
so.  Then he sank in properly, until his pubes were
right in contact with Joe.

"Right, boy.... You know the form now - nice long,
hard strokes...."

I've told you that although he was pretty thin and
skinny generally, Andy's cock was a good size, and for
Joe it was almost like having me in him - except that
there hadn't been any pre-stretching and stuff that I
usually did.  So as Andy began to fuck him, Joe was
crying out with every stroke.  The first time this
happened, Andy stopped immediately, and I could feel
his body tense against mine as he was obviously
terrified that he'd done something wrong.  I nibbled
hi earlobe again, and whispered "That's OK, you're
doing all right.... Most blokes make a bit of a fuss
when they have a cock up them, especially a real man's
one, like yours..."

You know I've said that statistics show that most
blokes don't actually cum as a result of fucking arse,
and this is certainly true for me as I've got older.
But young Andy was so excited by the whole thing once
he'd got started, that it was all over remarkably
quickly.  He knew what to do then, too - with his
detumescing cock still buried in Joe, he almost threw
himself forward so he could rub his body all over
Joe's, and bit and kissed at Joe's thick neck just
above his slave collar.  He lay there then, his thin
arms wrapped around the big man as he was half
laughing, half sobbing, at what he'd done.

Joe had gone very quiet once the fucking stopped, and
at first he was just lying there recovering his
strength before he erupted with violence, or, at the
very least, with a string of expletives.  But as I
moved away, worried that he might now start to lash
out with his mighty legs, he did that characteristic
thing that blokes do when they've really enjoyed you
fucking them - he lifted his legs up and back and
crossed them over Andy's body, just above his bum, as
if to try and hold the lad in there for as long as
possible.

I reckoned that there wasn't a problem when I saw
this, so I went to the head of the bed and cautiously
undid one cuff, and then the other.  Joe's arms at
once went around Andy's body, and Joe's head moved
down to try desperately to kiss Andy, rather than only
having him kiss Joe's neck.

It seemed good to let them enjoy each other for a few
minutes so I went into my bathroom for a piss, and
when I came out I found Andy had got his cock out from
Joe, and was now lying alongside the big man:  Joe was
lying on his back, and Andy's head was on Joe's
outstretched arm, and with Joe's hand wrapped around
his shoulder.

"Sir...", Joe whispered quietly, as if a normal voice
would somehow do damage.  "Sir.... Come to bed, sir...
It's a long time until morning....."

I looked almost incredulously at Joe.  I mean, one
moment I'd been the object of his fury and hate, and
now he seemed to be concerned for me.  I thought it
might be a trap - he wanted to get my naked body close
to his so he could attack me; but on reflection, I
thought I knew Joe well enough to believe that he
wasn't capable of deceit like that.  So I slipped onto
the bed, lying my body alongside his, and then even
venturing to put my leg over his and move my hips a
bit, so that we were maximally together.  Joe
stretched out his other arm now, and I lay my head on
the top it, getting Joe's warm, masculine scent from
his pit at I did so.  His hand curled around my
shoulder, and somehow I knew everything was going to
be all right.  Mind you, I didn't think it was the
sort of thing a master should necessarily do - anyone
looking in and seeing Joe almost cradling Andy on one
side and me on the other would think that he was in
some way in charge.

I drifted into a troubled sleep, but woke when the
first touches of dawn were colouring the window.  I
realised Joe was awake, too, and he turned his head,
from where he'd been watching Andy who was still lying
by him, to look directly at me.

"Joe...", I began.

"It's OK, Steve..."

"Joe, I'm sorry.... I shouldn't have made you fuck
him, or him fuck you...."

"Steve.... Look, mate, I'm not very good at this....
at these explanations.  But you know I don't like
taking cock, but I've done it all this time not just
because I'm a slave, but because, well... well I like
you, Steve.  I really like you.  And I reckon you must
like me, at least a little bit, or you wouldn't still
be fucking me, when there are so many other slaves
around here how are younger and everything.   I always
thought I liked fucking, Steve, and you let me fuck
the others when you don't need me.... So it ought to
have been all right when you wanted me to fuck Andy.
But... Oh, Steve, I can't tell you much it makes me
sad to know I'm never going to have a son, never going
to have a lad like Andy to call me 'dad' and to learn
from me and to take to the pub and stuff like that....
And I reckon I'd started feeling that Andy as a bit
like a son to me, and it's not right to fuck your son,
is it, Steve?"

I went to say something, but he went on "Let me
finish....  No, I reckon it's not right, well, not for
some fathers and sons a least.  But you made me do it,
Steve, and at first I was so furious, so angry, that I
needed every shred of self control to stop me beating
you to the slime I thought you were.  And using the
threat of punishing Andy to make me do it was
despicable.    But you know, Steve, it wasn't all that
bad - and Andy didn't seem particularly harmed by it,
so I suppose you were right in a way - we're both
slaves, after all, and it might bring us together."

He paused, and I lay there silently.  I'd never heard
Joe say so much before, and somehow I doubted I would
ever again, so it was best to let him speak.  "But
having Andy fuck me, Steve.... That was wrong, I
reckon, and I think you know it was wrong, which is
why you had to cuff me to stop me lashing out at you.
You shouldn't make a young kid like that fuck when he
doesn't want to.....  But when he got started, I saw
that he did want to, Steve.  You couldn't see his
eyes, but I could.  He wasn't gloating with his power,
as you do, Steve, when you fuck me and your face
changes to that totally dominating and controlling
one."    He saw me look surprised, and went on "Yes,
you do.  You may start out smiling, but once your cock
is thrusting in me, you're totally different.  But
Andy wasn't like that - the more he fucked me, the
more he seemed to be showing how much he cared about
me...."

Look, Joe's a big, tough guy, and blokes like that
don't cry, do they?  But as Joe went on, his voice was
getting somehow huskier, and I could see a film of
moisture forming in his eyes.  It made me embarrassed,
actually - I'm not sure I want to see a man cry.

"Oh Steve, forget the fucking!  It was the look,
Steve.  Andy loves me, Steve."

I had to speak now.  "Joe, hold on there.... Look,
Andy's a kid still and he doesn't know what he's
doing.  And I like you Joe, and I've known you for a
long time, and I don't want you to be hurt...."

"Steve.... You don't understand.  You've never been in
love.  I've seen you around for a long time now, and
you fuck me and some of the other slaves, but you
don't love anyone, not really.  So you can't
understand what it's like, you can't understand how
you feel when you really love someone, Steve.  It
doesn't matter if they're young, like Andy, or old.
All that matters is that you want them, you need them,
you love them.... And it's not the sex, either.... It
doesn't matter, Steve - I'd love Andy even if I
couldn't fuck him, or if you made him fuck me...."

I wanted to tell him.  Really I did.  I wanted to kiss
dear, reliable, lovely Joe, and tell him.  Tell him
that I did know exactly what love was like.  Tell him
that he was wrong, that I was in love, and had been
for years.  Tell him that I had the love of my life,
and I had no need for any other.  Tell him that all
the casual sex I had with him, and some of the other
slaves sometimes, was just that - something to pass
the time until I could next be with Dan.  But
something held me back, some stupid thing that
prevented me from telling this kind, gentle man that I
did know what love was all about - the joy of it, the
despair of it, the happiness, the unhappiness, the
anticipation....  But I couldn't say it.  Sometimes I
wish we could go back and do things differently.  If
only we had the luxury of being able to roll back
history and re-do things that we got wrong the first
time - but this life is the only one we get, isn't it
- it's not a rehearsal, and I fluffed this scene.  How
fantastic it would have been to have a friend, a true
friend, who I could tell everything to, who I could
confide in, and tell all about Dan, my lovely Dan, and
the way I adored him and wanted him but couldn't have
him.  It might have made it more bearable.

But the moment passed, and now Joe's outburst had
caused a tear to break free of the corner of his eye
and roll down his cheek.  My heart went out for him,
as I knew the sort of thing he must be feeling - the
joy at having found a true love, the thrill of
imagining what he and Andy might do next....  I felt
like crying myself, not only because of the emotion of
seeing Joe like that, but because I contrasted Joe's
simple honesty with my own life of deception, and felt
so desperately sad.  I leaned my weight up on one
elbow, and gently stroked the tear from Joe's cheek.
"What's the matter, mate?  You ought to be happy...."

"Of course I am, Steve - but it won't last, will it?
You just can't be this happy for ever and ever... "

I felt a twinge of unease.  Had Dan and me been happy
for too long?  Had we actually ever been happy,
deliriously happy, as Joe seemed to be?    "It can
last, Joe.  Of course it can.  Some people meet their
one true love and that's it, for the rest of their
lives....."

Joe was deadly serious now.  "You may be right, Steve.
 It happens in the women's magazines, I suppose.  The
hero and the heroine live happily ever after in all
those stories.  But it won't happen to us, I
reckon...."

"Joe, you've only just fallen in love with the kid,
and reckon he loves you, too.... It's a bit much to be
planning to break up...."

"Steve, we're slaves, remember?  It would be hard
enough for two blokes to live together If they were
free.  As slaves, it's nigh on impossible - you can
sell one or other of us tomorrow, and then we'd never
see each other again....."

My heart went out to him once more, and some of you
may think I was overly sentimental, because as I
looked down at him, another tear ran out of the corner
of his eye and my normal self control faltered.  I
lowered my voice, and whispered "Joe, listen to me,
and believe it.  I promise you I'll never sell you, or
Andy. Never. Not as long as I live."

I was amazed to hear myself say this - I mean, buying
and selling slaves ought just to be a simple matter of
business, oughtn't it?  But there, I'd said it.  Of
course, I didn't have to keep to it, as an owner's
"promises" to a slave he owns aren't worth anything at
all.  But I did mean it, as I said it, I suppose.  And
I knew that at any moment I might join Joe in crying,
and I couldn't do that - an owner can't be seen to be
weak in front of his slave.  So I kissed him firmly on
the mouth, so he knew I was serious, then quick as a
flash moved my mouth down to his left nip and gave him
a quick, sharp bite, so his body convulsed, and he
started to laugh (Joe's nips are really sensitive!).
"Actually, Joe", I then said, "I think I ought to
change that promise - so I'll not sell Andy unless you
want me to.  So you know that whenever he gets too
much for you, there's a simple out...."

He knew I was joking, but there's always some
underlying truth in the best jokes, isn't there?  He
looked at me again, and now the tears were streaming
down his face again.  "Steve, I called you a
bastard.... But you're a nice one."

End Of Part Twenty One