Date: Wed, 14 Jun 2006 08:32:26 -0700 (PDT)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Slave Show, Part Twenty Eight

THE SLAVE SHOW

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

Part  Twenty Eight


When I got back to our Centre and pulled into the
yard, Andy came running over as you'd expect - he'd
been out watching the slaves run the course, and
needed to know if I had fresh instructions.  As soon
as he saw the new slave sitting strapped in beside me,
and the way the man was clearly in distress from the
hurt the wounds on his back and butt were causing him,
he opened the door and began to undo the straps
holding him down.

I got  out and watched, and Andy was being his normal
helpful self, telling the slave that he was being as
gentle as possible and that he'd soon be out.  I
carried on watching as the slave gingerly put his feet
down onto the ground, and then stretched himself:
there were bits of newspaper stuck all over the back
of him with the congealed blood from the whipping, and
I was glad that I'd used them  to cover the seat.  The
slave looked around him as if taking his bearings, and
the next minute he was off - running away from Andy
and me as we stood there, then picking up speed as he
saw the way out of the yard.   It was such a stupid
thing to do - with his hands still cuffed in front of
himself he had no real prospect of escaping, and he
couldn't even get up any real speed:  not only were
the wounds presumably hurting him a great deal, but
you just can't run very fast without using your arms
to pump along.

Andy went to run after him, but I stopped him,  "He's
heading out across the course, and I'll let him go a
bit so he exhausts himself.  And I think I'll go after
him myself....."

I took my time to stroll over to the little four-wheel
quad bike I sometimes used to get out to the farthest
point on the course quickly (continuing expansion now
meant we had a very considerable area), and started it
up.  I like riding the thing, actually, and I went
after the slave, seeing the looks of astonishment on
the faces of the trainees as I roared past them.  The
quad bike is also used as a kind of "emergency"
vehicle in case there's serious injury out on the
course, and in a holder behind the driver's seat
there's a long pole with a loop on the end that can be
used to fish a floundering slave out of one of the
deep water hazards we have, and as I got close to the
slave, who was now running as fast as he could, I
grabbed this pole and pushed it in-between his flying
legs, causing him to crash to the ground.  And before
you think me intolerably cruel, let me remind you that
he was attempting the thing that slaves should never
do - to run away from his rightful place, so it was
his own fault!  But I did wait until we were on a
soft, very muddy part of the course so it was more of
a big slpot and splash, rather than being on one of
the possibly bone-breaking paved parts.

He lay there in the mud, gasping and panting, and
looking utterly defeated.  I felt a bit sorry for him,
actually, as he lay there on his belly, as some of the
wounds on his back did look very bad indeed.  He was
struggling to try to get to his feet, and I pushed
down hard with my booted foot on his bum, causing him
to collapse.  "Lie still for a bit and recover your
breath.", I told him.  He was a persistent buggar,
though, and the moment I moved slightly away to open
the quad-bike's pannier, he was struggling to get to
his feet again.

We always carry a length of rope in the bike as it's
useful for so many things, and I now quickly formed a
running knot in one end, and slipped it over the
slave's neck, pulling the noose tight to hold it
there.  As he finally got to his feet I tied the other
end to the back of the bike, and called "Now you'd
better really run - I'm not stopping, and if you don't
keep up, or if you fall, you'll strangle yourself...."

He was shouting some sort of abuse as usual as I put
the bike into gear, and set off.  It was hard for me,
actually - I wanted to make him really run, really
work, but I didn't actually want to risk injuring him:
 although I hadn't paid all that much for him and it
would be no great financial loss, I have to admit to a
grudging admiration for his courage, albeit rather
misplaced courage;  and there was something about his
body that I found exciting.  Actually, I think I saw a
lot of my young self in him:  both army, fit, strong,
brave.... I remembered how I'd felt when  I was first
enslaved, and this man was at least trying to do
something about it, however stupid.

I didn't spare him at all, as I reckoned that if he
was totally exhausted he'd be less liable to cause
trouble when we got back - not that we couldn't handle
it, but if it was too bad, and too "public", I'd be
forced to take strong corrective action to let the
other slaves see that discipline was being maintained
- action that might permanently damage or disfigure
him.  I therefore drove as fast as I could, consistent
with him being able to keep up if he pushed himself to
the limit, and deliberately went through some of the
shallow water features (freezing cold at that time of
year), and through the long grass and bushy scrub at
the sides - the stinging nettles were probably painful
but would cause no lasting harm, and the scratches and
lacerations from the brambles would soon heal.

When we got back to the yard with him desperately
clutching at the rope with his cuffed hands to prevent
it tightening around his neck any further, he
collapsed and lay there on the concrete, his limbs
twitching and his lungs sucking in air desperately.
Andy went to help him, but I shook my head and said
"Go and find Winston and Clyde, and get them over here
now."

Winston and Clyde were a matched pair of big slaves
that we were planning to show together as "litter
mates" - they were in fact brothers, with Winston
being a year older than Clyde, and they had that very
stocky build that some men have.  We'd played to this,
and had deliberately developed their musculature in a
way that we rarely did, so that they were verging on
being over developed.  They were  each just under six
feet tall, rather hairy (we'd let them keep the
thatches on their chests and bellies as this tended to
emphasise their big physiques), and amongst other
interesting features they had were really thick cocks
- it didn't appear so at first sight as they were in
proportion to the rest of their big build, but the
moment you tried to get your hand around one you at
once knew that these men were exceptional.  When I
bought them they were so glad that I'd bought both of
them as they had not wanted to be separated, and
indeed remained very grateful to me:  they knew that
they'd been properly convicted and sentenced following
a stupid attempt at being "strong arm" men trying to
rob a building society branch near their former home
in East London, but their fear was of never seeing
each other again.  I thought at first that they were
lovers, but it seemed that as they grew up they'd done
nothing more than you'd expect a pair of brothers to
do - wanking each other at first, and then sometimes
sharing one woman if they paid for a prostitute.  I'd
debated with myself as to whether they should do more,
and had decided they should:  all my slaves needed to
be able to give cock, and take it, and it was actually
quite amusing to see these two big brothers trying to
put aside their inhibitions and really get stuck in to
each other.  Once they'd tried it, though, like almost
all men they'd come to discover they liked it, and now
they spent most nights together in the same bed
(although, Andy tells me, they were not averse to
"spit roasting" some of the other slaves if they
thought that someone had been disrespectful to them!).

They came off the course and stood there panting
slightly.  "This is a new slave who hasn't learned yet
how to behave", I told them.  "I want you to look
after him for a few days - as you can see, he's
reckless and tried to escape, and if that happens
again I won't have any choice but to take his balls,
so I look to you two to keep him safe and secure
around here."

The slave began to curse again, and I signalled to
Winston, who causally slapped him - and a casual slap
from Winston's meaty arm is not something you'd want
to experience.  "Shut the fuck up, you idiot!", I
snapped at him.  "I'm trying to help you here,
although you may not understand this yet!"

I told Andy to fetch cuffs, and attached the slave
in-between Winston and Clyde, so that his left wrist
was chained to Winston's right, and his right to
Clyde's left.  All three of them stood there then sort
of shaking their arms experimentally, and the contrast
between the two heavyset big men and the lithe and
limber slave between them was, well, interesting.  I
particularly liked the way the dark all-over tan on
Winston and Clyde made the stark whiteness of the new
slave's bum stand out in such sharp relief.  I went on
"Now, Winston, Clyde, this slave is your
responsibility.  I want you to make sure he eats - no
silly hunger strike stuff - and exercises around the
course:  it should be interesting to see all three of
you trying to do some of the obstacles chained
together like that.  But no fucking him - when the
time is right, I'm going to take his cherry."

Clyde looked a bit sullen at that news, but asked
"Sir, can we wank him, and make him suck us...."

"No.  Not unless he wants to - and I mean really wants
to, not with one of you twisting his arm or anything
like that!  He's a virgin, and my guess is that he's
had no experience of any kind with other men, and
that's the way it's to stay until I decided
otherwise."

The slave was shivering now, as he cooled down from
his gruelling experience, and it wasn't a warm day.
He seemed to be so exhausted that he'd lost the power
to protest, even when I had mentioned taking his
cherry.   "OK, you two, take him off an get a good hot
shower.  But be gentle with him, OK?  He's wounded
from a bull whipping, and although you've got to get
him clean, try to do it with as little pain as
possible:  he's still at that point where he can't
admit to another man that he's hurting, so you'll need
to keep a close watch as you wash him."

"Yes, sir", Winston snapped (as the elder brother he
liked being in charge).

"Oh..."  I looked at the slave.  "What's your name?  I
haven't had time to read your sale documents."

"Mike."

"Two things, Mike:  one, that's the last time you ever
reply to me without calling me 'sir'.  If you fail to
show me the proper respect that I'm due as your owner,
then Winston and Clyde have my full permission to slap
you again.  And secondly, you can't be called Mike:
I've got a Mike already, and it makes for confusion to
have more than one slave here in training with the
same name."

Turning to Andy,  I went on "What do you reckon, Andy?
 Something simple.... We haven't got a Jon
currently...."

Andy gave me one of his smiles, to show he was half
joking.  "What about 'Rebel', sir?  Or 'Reb' for
short?  'Reb' is a good name in training, and if you
do put him in a show, 'Rebel' has that touch of
excitement about it.... And it seems to fit his
nature....."

"You can't give me a fucking new name....", the slave
began, but he never finished the sentence as both
Winston and Clyde simultaneously slapped at his bum,
which caused his words to break off into a scream as
it really must have hurt him, not only from the sheer
force of the blows, but because of the open whip
wounds there still.

"Listen, Reb", I told him, keeping my face close to
his.  "I can do what I like with you. You're not a
soldier any more, you're not even a prisoner, you're a
slave.  My slave.  And an owner can do what he likes
with his slave - you're my property, and that's all
there is to it, and you'll find out more about that in
the weeks to come."

"Off you go then....", I told the three of them,
before 'Reb' could say anything more and get slapped
again. Then as the two big slaves have dragged, half
carried the still slightly protesting new slave off
towards the barn, I added to Andy "Go with them, and
look after him a bit:  he's not worth much, but
there's something about him....  He won't admit
defeat, and he thinks that's being tough and brave,
and doesn't yet recognise that it's brave sometimes to
accept what's currently inevitable whilst building up
your strength for a better fight later.... I reckon
he's terrified inside, but can't admit it or show it,
and so we've got this ridiculous show of bravado.  Try
to get him to see sense, will you?  I really don't
want to have to have him mutilated:  a bull whipping
has failed to tame him, and the only thing left is
gelding."

"Yes, sir", Andy said, looking worried now.  "You
wouldn't do that to a bloke, would you, sir?"

"Andy, you know I've never yet had the vet in here to
do that to a slave!  But we've got a real problem
here:   if we can't at least tame him to the extent
that he's outwardly respectful, I may have to. What
would happen to discipline in all the other slaves if
they saw Reb getting away with being disrespectful and
disobedient?   So do your best with him, Andy."

"Yes, sir."

"And telephone the vet and ask him to call by on his
rounds - some of those wounds in young Reb aren't
going to heal by themselves, and stitches will be
needed I think.  And probably he can clean them more
deeply that you slaves can in the showers.  Tell the
vet to do it without anaesthetic as Reb needs to feel
the pain for his own good - he's at that point where
pain is affirming the rightness of his position to
him.  But afterwards make sure he gets some really
strong pain killers:  there's no point in him being
uncomfortable and unable to sleep all night, as he's
on the edge of exhaustion and I want him thinking
clearly tomorrow, not with his brains half scrambled
with tiredness."

"Yes, sir."

"Oh... And I meant what I said about sex!  He's not to
be interfered with at all... Not even touching his
cock and 'skinning him back or anything!  He's chained
to Winston and Clyde, and he can stay like that for
the near future until he's calmed down a bit, but
that's only like being with his buddies in the army -
well, a bit more, perhaps.  But he's used to showering
with other men and even sleeping close to them when
they're out in a tent on manoeuvres...."

"It will be hard on Winston and Clyde, sir...."

"Oh, they can carry on playing with each other if they
want to!  Who knows - the smell of cum as those two
shoot it all over each other might actually get young
Reb interested!"

I went and watched the three salves shower.  It was
somehow rather erotic to see the two big magnificently
muscled men with the smaller, slighter, more lithe one
in-between them.  And with their wrists cuffed
together it was necessary for them to get used to the
bodies of the others - well, for Winston and Clyde it
wasn't a problem as they'd been doing it all their
lives, but Reb clearly found it difficult to have his
body washed by the two big slaves ,and also didn't
like it when his hands and forearms were dragged over
the flesh of Winston and Clyde. I remembered how it
had been when I was in the army - you showered with
your mates of course, but it was almost always "no
touching" - the most you might do was occasionally,
very occasionally, was wash a mate's back to help him
get rid of some particularly difficult mud after a
very hard exercise.

As they stood there ,though, I saw there was a problem
- the water washing away down the drain was faintly
tinged with red, and it was evident that Reb was still
bleeding from his wounds.  Clyde and Winston had been
as gentle as possible in trying to pick off the
blood-soaked newspaper from Reb's back and bum, but as
they did, it opened up the places where he'd been
whipped and had restarted the flow.  Reb must be
hurting, I knew, but he was doing the macho thing and
trying not to let it show.  Consequently I called to
them to get out of the shower and to wrap Reb in  a
big bath sheet, as I saw he was beginning to shiver
with both the pain and exhaustion, and strode off to
the office to wait for the vet.

Fortunately the vet was in our area and came within an
hour, and by this time I'd had Winston and Clyde take
Reb into our small "surgery" - with our general
expansion it seemed as if we frequently needed the
services of a vet, so it was convenient to have one
place, with a steel-topped table, a sink, and a few
simple things like bandages and so on where he could
treat slaves in a clean, relatively sterile
environment.

I had Winston and Clyde lie Reb face own on the steel
table - he looked pretty vulnerable lying there, and
was shivering badly now, so I turned up the heat in
the room.  The vet gave a low whistle as he made his
preliminary examination, and commented that whoever
had done the whipping had really been brutal as the
lash had bitten deeply, especially where Reb's body
turned a corner.  "The bastard allowed the whip to
wrap almost right round to hit his chest and belly",
he showed me, "So on the sides, where there's little
muscle, it's almost cut through to the bone."

The vet continued to examine Reb and then came back to
me.  "All of the wounds need cleaning out and
disinfecting properly, as it's so easy for a really
nasty infection to get started and spread.  But some
of them need stitches - they'll never close up by
themselves unless the slave lies totally still, and
for a vigorous young buck like this one I'd think
that's really not possible."

He went to get out a syringe, and I looked at him
questioningly.  "...to deaden the pain as I work.", he
said.

"No.  Let him feel it!  The whole point of a
bullwhipping is to make the slave understand the agony
that waits for him if he ever disobeys again.  It will
do this one good to be reminded that the pain isn't
just confined to the whipping itself, but goes on long
afterwards.  So just do it."

"I can't work on the slave, especially when I'm
putting in the stitches, as he'll thrash around."

I looked at Winston and Clyde, and ordered them to
really hold Reb's arms, and to squat under the table
and pull them down so that he would be totally
immobile, and then asked the vet to begin.  As the
harsh, astringent antiseptic wash fluid went into his
wounds I saw his body start to try and convulse and
jerk, but Winston and Clyde held him steady.  I could
see Reb's face contorted with the pain, and in spite
of himself  he began to hiss with the agony he was in,
and then to groan softly.  As the vet worked on and
got to the deeper wounds, he couldn't help himself and
began to cry out as each fresh swab was applied.    By
the time all the cleansing was finished he was not
exactly sobbing, but was  making almost a constant
keening noise as the vet worked away.  He tried to
regain control of himself  as the vet began to stitch
him  together, but I could tell it was difficult, and
the occasional "Oh fuck...." would escape him
involuntarily.

Once the vet was finished I allowed Winston and Dan to
let him get up from the table, and he stood there sort
of flexing himself experimentally.

"OK, you three, I reckon that's enough for today.  Go
and tell the cook I said you can have an early dinner,
and then  get to bed - Reb looks as if he needs to
rest.  You can take the mattresses off a couple of
beds and put them together on the floor for all three
of you to share - and remember, you two, no sex!  I
want to take Reb myself when he's fully recovered, and
if I find out that there's been any fucking at all,
you two will get a whipping like this.  Do I make
myself clear?"

"Sir, yes!", the two slaves chorused, and Reb just
stood  there looking defiant.

Later that evening I went through the barn to make
sure all was well, and saw that my orders had been
obeyed:  Reb was sandwiched between Winston and Clyde,
and the two big brutes seemed to have been taking good
care of him as they were not crushing him or anything
- indeed, it was only the narrowness of the two
mattresses that made them all touch each other at all,
I believe.  I insist that my slaves sleep totally
naked - most of them, being young, would do so
naturally of course, and through the thin sheet I
could see the outline of Clyde and Winston's thick
cocks fully erect.  The two men were half awake, and
when they saw me they looked at me enquiringly, but I
made a gesture to indicate to them that they had no
need to get to their feet as I would normally expect,
but that they could carry on lying there.  Reb,
though, looked to be asleep in that deep sleep that
only comes from total exhaustion.   He wasn't even
hard, I saw as I pulled the sheet off the men so I
could take a closer look at them - well, as a
concerned owner I did wish to make sure that there was
no more blood leaking from Reb, as I doubted he could
afford to lose it.

The next morning there was a lot of interest in the
canteen when the three slaves came in chained together
- they hadn't been able to put Ts on because of the
chains, so all three were bare-chested, and the very
livid marks of Reb's whipping were clearly visible to
all.  Winston and Clyde were popular blokes and a lot
of the other slaves greeted them cheerily, but Reb
just stood there between them, scowling and making no
attempt at all to greet his new comrades.

After breakfast Andy asked me what I wanted the three
slaves to do, and I told him that they should exercise
as usual.  "He's been sewn up by the vet, and although
it might be painful as the scabs and stitches stretch
a bit, I think it's best to give him something to
occupy his mind with."

"I'll get the key then, sir."

"No, Andy. Let them run the course chained together -
Reb's still weak, I think, and Winston and Clyde can
help him over the worst obstacles.  And it will be
good for them all to learn to work as a team rather
than as three individuals.  And having Winston and
Clyde lead him around, there won't be any opportunity
for him to even attempt another escape - I don't want
to risk that."

It was interesting to see them in action, actually -
Winston and Clyde, being so very big and so very
strong, had specially high barriers to get over, and
extra heavy items to move as they went around, and Reb
had to now go over these same barriers and so on even
though he was shorter.  He was clearly very athletic,
but was weak from his ordeal, and he didn't have an
easy time of it at all, and by the time it was the
lunch break, he seemed to be all in.

I made them run the course in the afternoon again, and
even though the other slaves continued exercising, I
again allowed the three of them to get an early dinner
from cook and to get to sleep early.

On the fourth day I decided that Reb's wounds had
healed enough, and the long sleeps and good food had
clearly revived him.  It was therefore time to move
him on and remind him that he wasn't still a soldier,
but was now a slave.    So that evening I went to the
showers as the slaves were coming in off the course
and told Winston and Clyde that Reb was to be properly
cleaned out inside.  He began to struggle and curse
them the moment they led him over to the far wall
where the enema hoses were; and as they tried to make
him bend over so one could be inserted up his arse, he
was moving so violently and making such a fuss that I
lost my temper.  I called out to Winston and Clyde and
told them they had my full permission to slap Reb
around a bit to make life easier for them, and after a
couple of resounding "cracks" had echoed around the
tiled enclosure, he seemed to be calmer.  He'd
evidently not had a proper internal cleansing before
as he didn't know what to do and failed to hold it in
properly until he could get over to the drain hole,
and Winston slapped him again when he saw some of
Reb's shit on his feet.

The three slaves presented themselves in my room
shortly afterwards, and they'd dried themselves and
put on regular slave shorts.  Andy was there too, and
I told him to strip Reb so he went behind the man and
pulled his shorts down.

"Right, Reb - you're here to move on into proper
slavehood", I told him quietly.  "Do you notice
anything different about you, compared with the other
three slaves here - Winston, Clyde, and my chief
slave, Andy?"

He remained sullen and  silent, and I gestured for
Clyde to slap his arse, hard.

"It's not acceptable behaviour again, Reb!  Now either
you can start doing he right thing, or I can continue
to have you punished.  Personally, I don't care, as I
like to see a nicely warmed up bum.  So it's up to
you.  Now, let's try again. Do you spot any
differences?"

"I'm fucking naked, sir!"

"Apart from that."

"No, sir."  He sounded really pissed off now.

"Well, Re, here's the first difference.  They're all
wearing a slave collar, so that if they escape, or
even get lost, the slave police can quickly and easily
see that they belong t o me and can return them to me.
 They've all got collars, and you haven't,   Now,
kneel!"

He stood there, looking defiant, so I nodded at
Winston who reached around and slapped his bum very
hard again, and then both Winston and Clyde in effect
forced him to kneel.  Andy handed me one of the
"humane" chain collars I like to use to avoid scabbing
and scarring on the neck and shoulders, and I put it
around his neck and snapped the clasp closed.

"There!  Collared.  If you look at one of the other
slaves' collars you'll see it has our name, address
and telephone number on it, together with the offer of
a small reward.  You can't get the collar off as the
clasp is locked and bonded once it closes, and you'll
wear that collar for the rest of your life to remind
you that you are just property, my property.  Feel the
weight of it, feel the way it moves on you when you
move, and every time it does use that movement to
remind yourself that you are a slave, my slave."

"I'm no man's property....", Reb began to shout, so I
gestured for Winston and Clyde to slap him a bit to
shut him up.  Then I gestured to the Winston and Clyde
to allow Reb to stand again, and he stood there in
front of me.  I could tell he wanted to reach up and
feel his new collar, but the cuffs still held his
hands where Winston and Clyde's were, at their sides.

"Now, Reb, do you have any idea what the second
difference is between you and these other slaves?
What let's them know that they're my property, subject
to my will and not their own, as well as those
collars?"

"I don't know.... Sir."  He said this as if he didn't
care, either!

"Well I'll tell you.  Each of these slaves has
experienced me, his owner, up his arse.  I like to
fuck all my new slaves so that they know they are
totally mine.  I take possession of them, and they
learn that I have the power to force my cock deep
inside them, and fill them with my cum. I take it
you've not been fucked by another man before?"

"I'm not some sort of pervert...."

"..and neither am I, Reb.  I'm just doing what's right
and natural.  Men have demonstrated their power and
dominance over other men for thousands of years, and
it's only recently that our society has again begun to
realise that this is a powerful way of signalling to
the newly enslaved that their lives have changed
irrevocably.  Still, I am a little surprised that all
you young virile soldiers didn't experience each
other...."

"No way...."

"..and you didn't even think to use your cocks as
powerful instruments to get captured prisoners to
confess?"

"It's against the law!  We were all taught that.  You
can't rape prisoners...."

I smiled.  "Quite right, Reb.  But you're not a
prisoner, are you?  You're a slave, remember?  And the
law is quite different for slaves.  You're my
property, and I can do whatever I like with you."

"Bastard....", he began, and at another nod from me
Winston and Clyde gave him another beating to shut him
up.

I've got a fucking horse in my room, as even when I
was fucking a slave who was perfectly used to taking
cock it's sometimes more exciting and makes for more
sport to have a piece of furniture that's properly
adapted for the purpose.  It's OK to fuck in bed, of
course, but sometimes it's just easier to have a
properly adjustable horse there so you can position
the slave's arse at exactly the right height for you,
and especially if you take the time to adjust the
kneeling pads properly, the arse can be really opened
up.

There was hardly an opportunity to use any of the fine
adjustments, though, as Reb fought like a tiger as
Winston and Clyde dragged him over to the horse and
then forced his body down on it.  Once the leather
strap around under his armpits was cinched tight,
though, he was pretty much helpless and Winston and
Clyde were able to kneel on either side, and I allowed
them to let his arms hand relatively loose as I was
concerned about cutting their wrists with the cuffs if
they had to strain too much.   Actually I prefer a
slave to be relatively loose on the horse the first
time - if you fasten all the straps and so on it makes
them feel totally powerless to prevent their rape, and
so they can in some measure not "blame" themselves.
But if they're only held down by one body belt, they
can thrash around:  even though it makes no practical
difference as you can rape them anyway and there's not
a thing they can do to stop you, I think it
psychologically makes them feel "powerless" and they
understand that it is inevitable.

I'm a softy at heart, though, and I know it's pretty
traumatic for a slave the first time and so I do take
care to make it as easy as possible - Andy was used to
my routine by now, and so he dropped to his knees and
began to wank Reb's cock as it hung between his thighs
- Reb tried to prevent him, by closing his legs, but
Andy simply then half lay on top of the naked slave
and put his hands around his waist to reach and do it
from the front.  Reb was making a terrible noise as
Andy did this, profaning and swearing very loudly, so
we decided to gag him - you want to know that the
slave is really hating what's being done to him, but
not so much that it hurts your ears, after all!

Interestingly it didn't take Reb long to cum at all -
I suppose those nights when he'd been sandwiched
between Clyde and Winston he'd been too inhibited to
wank himself, and Andy managed to catch a really large
pool of cum in his hand, which he held up to show me
with a  pleased expression on his face, as if to point
out that we had a real man in Reb!   And of course as
he then bent over Reb's arse to begin lubing and
stretching him for me, Reb twisted and squirmed and
shouted through his gag, but with the strap holding
him in place he was powerless to prevent the entrance
of Andy's strong fingers, especially as he had so much
experience of this from all the slaves we'd had in
this position previously.

After a few minutes Andy nodded at me to let me know
that Reb was prepared, and I moved around to where the
slave could see me to drop my jeans.  I kept my T on
so my cock was straining upwards from under the hem of
it as I stood their eloping down at the slave helpless
in front of me.

"Now, Reb, take a good look at this - take a good look
at your owner's cock, a cock that is about to go deep
inside you, to take possession of your arse for the
first time. "

He was shouting something unintelligible through the
gag, and I moved closer to him so that my cock was
waving through the air right in front of his eyes.
"See, Reb.... Imagine how that's going to feel as it
pushes at your arsehole.  And I expect you'll be like
all the other slaves who have been here just as you
are now - you'll try to resist.  You'll try to clamp
your hole closed, to prevent your owner taking his
rightful pleasure from you.  But it won't work,
Reb.... It never does!  A big, strong cock like this
can always defeat your sphincter... So take my advice,
don't fight it, and you'll enjoy it a lot more...."

I nodded then, and Andy slicked a little of Reb's cum
over my cock to make it easier for me, and I went  and
positioned myself behind Reb, and put my hands down
onto his bum to prise the lovely white cheeks apart.

It is exciting, actually, to have a man actively
resist you as you try to fuck him - especially when
he's tied down helpless.  It's the sheer futility of
it as their is no way he can stop you.  And the more
Reb resisted and bucked and squirmed and screamed
through his gag, the more exciting it was for me.
Mindful of his wounds I had thought I'd take it slowly
and gently for his first time, but the resistance he
was putting up inflamed me and made my own passion
flare - so much so that as soon as I had my cock head
nicely positioned at his tender light brown pucker, I
just couldn't resist almost slamming it in and burying
myself deep into him in one big stroke - something
that caused his ranting to change to a scream of pure
terror, and pain.  And you know how it is then, of
course:  you just forget all about the slave, and all
you can focus on is the incredible sensations coming
to your brain from your cock.  I hardly knew or cared
what Reb felt as his wonderfully tight arse caressed
and thrilled my cock as I pounded away, and I was
genuinely disappointed as I felt my balls contracting
and my cum shot up into him all too soon.

After I'd rested a few moments, lying forward so he'd
experience the weight of his conqueror holding him
down, I pulled out of him and went and stood in front
of him once more, my now de-tumescing dick once more
at his eye level.  He could see my cum and his mixed
together on my cock, and I told him gently "That was
lesson one, Reb!  Later on you'll get to learn how to
clean me up after I've fucked you.  But the night is
not over yet.... It's Andy's turn now!"

End Of Part Twenty Eight