Date: Tue, 15 Nov 2005 03:33:42 -0800 (PST)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: Steve's First Job, Part Eight

Steve's  First Job   by Pete Brown    petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

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

Part  8


Steve:  Thank god you were OK.  I used up almost all
the credit on my cell trying to contact you - the
people at your depot didn't know where you were, and I
called your home, who said you were at work.... And
you don't carry your cell around: really, Steve,
that's so stupid!  What are you going to do if one of
those fucking slaves of yours escapes?

I know you were pissed off at me when finally you did
answer your cell and I said it sounded like poetic
justice to me (no, that's not justice meted out by
poets like me!).  But think about it, Steve - what did
you do to those slaves when you first got them?   You
told me you had that two, and the others, on a "horse"
and then you raped him.  And when he was disobedient
you had him on there again and caned him - in fact,
you're proud of your prowess with the punishment cane.
 And when we talked about whether that two minded
having your dick forced into him, or was upset at
being caned, you just said that he was a slave.  So
perhaps you now know what it's liked to be raped, and
beaten up - think about it when you're dealing with
that two and your other slaves.  Stu.

Stu:  For fuck's sake, it isn't the same at all.  I'm
a man, a free man, and that Matt raped me, and beat me
up.  What I do with the slaves is entirely different -
fucking the slaves is part of the process of turning
them from men into slaves - you need to do it, like
you have them collared and tattooed and their pubes
trimmed.  And as for caning them - well, it's not like
beating them up at all, surely you can see that!
Slaves need discipline, and it's good for them - how
else can they know that they've displeased you if you
don't cane them?  How else can they know that they're
not working hard enough without the tawse or the whip
"encouraging" them?  I really am surprised at you,
Stu, to compare what Matt did to me to the proper
management of slaves.  Steve.

Steve:  Look, you and two are both men.  And a dick
forced up either of your asses causes you just as much
pain, and makes you feel just as used, and takes away
your sense of being a male.  Can't you see that? Stu.

Stu:  no, I don't see it at all.  You only think that
way because you don't work around slaves, and you
don't have the responsibility for training and
managing them.  How on earth could I control big tough
guys like two if I hadn't "broken" him, and if he
wasn't aware that I could easily punish him if he
fails to obey?  Get real, Stu - physical discipline is
the only thing that salves understand, the only thing
that motivates them.  I can't give him a bigger salary
rise if he works harder, or promote him, or anything
like that, as he's a slave.  So the only thing left is
physical punishment.  How else would you keep a slave
motivated?  Read him a poem?!

Anyway, we're starting another quarrel here.  Let's
just agree to differ on the problems of slave
management, and let me tell you what I did to get back
at that fucker Matt.  I was still really sore - those
bruises all over me;  and I looked a fright, with my
black eye and bruised face.  And it was REALLY painful
to have to sit on the dray, and to keep getting on and
off to deliver the packages, as my ass was so tender
and sore.  And crapping was a real trial, even though
it turned out that my ass wasn't torn (as it could
have been, with that forcible entry) - the blood I'd
seen that night was just the kind of stuff you get
from "enthusiastic" sex anyway, even though it had
been pretty scary at the time.  Still, no one gets
away with stuff like that when they're dealing with
me.

As he did most nights, Matt skimped on looking after
his slaves and went over to the bar.  I chatted to the
concierge at the desk in the hall of the BDQ, and
asked him to go and get me another blanket, and whilst
he was away I leaned over and took the spare key to
Matt's room from the key safe.  I went up and let
myself in, and I almost panicked as I saw again that
terrible scene - it brought my memories flooding back.
 The place was like a pigsty, with empty beer cans,
unwashed plates, and dirty clothes strewn about the
place, and there was the smell of unwashed bodies and
stale food in the air.  It almost made me gag and
vomit.  And I had to endure it for about two and a
half hours, before I heard Matt getting back, and
stumbling around in the hall as he was probably drunk.

The moment he came in I stabbed him with my slave
prod, set to its maximum "stun" position, and he
collapsed into a big sagging heap on the threshold.
As I've told you, he's a really big, heavy guy and it
took all my strength to drag him across the floor and
onto the bed, and when he was there I hauled his arms
above his head and cuffed his wrists to the headboard
of the bed.  As he's so strong and violent, I pulled
his boots off, and the stench of his sweaty feet
almost made me vomit yet again.  I just waited then
until he came around from the prod, and he was in some
considerable pain, as you'd expect.  But it turned to
rage, the moment he realised that he was cuffed to the
headboard, and that  I was sitting there watching him.
  He shouted and screamed at me to let him free, and I
just shook my head, and went and stood by the bed.  He
tried to lash out at me with his legs, and so I
reached over and grabbed his dick through his shorts,
and squeezed it and his balls hard:  he really had
something to scream about now, and I ordered him to be
silent, and lie still.

"So, Matt, you like sex with other guys", I told him
calmly.  "So you're going to have a really good night
tonight - there's going to be a lot of sex!"  He
started shouting again, being really abusive and using
the type of language I imagine is common in the
barracks room, so I shut him up by another squeeze to
his balls.  But when I started to pull his shorts off
it started all over again, and I had to wave the lave
prod in the air near his neck to remind him to be
silent.  Like all of us he didn't have underwear under
his shorts, so his monstrous dick, the one that had
raped me, was lying there like a fat, lifeless sausage
over his big balls.  I prodded at it with the slave
prod (not turned on) as I wanted to show him that I
had the power to seriously hurt him if I wanted to,
and as I moved his dick and balls around with the tip,
he gradually became erect.  "So, do you want to fuck
again, Matt?  Do you want to force that big dick up me
again?"
"Look, Steve, just let me go, will you, and we'll
forget all about this....", he began, and I silenced
him by tapping his balls with my prod, making him
wince.  "No, Matt - we can't forget about it.  And,
anyway, I wouldn't want to deprive you of an evening
of sex!"

He watched as I tied a rope around his ankle and then
looped it around the headboard of the bed, but when I
started to tighten the rope to pull his leg up above
his head, he resisted.  "Now, Matt, be careful!", I
chided him.  "I think it would be best if you
co-operated with me, don't you?  Would you like the
slave prod turned on?"  He could see that he was
helpless and in my power, and relaxed his muscles, so
that I could then tie his leg in place, and I repeated
the process on his right side so that he was then in
the classic position for fucking - lying there on his
back, legs spread and feet pulled right back.  His
hole was there, right in front of me, surrounded by
his fat butt and the untidy mass of thick black curls
that was his pubic hair.  There was  a nasty smell of
shit and stale sweat, and, to tell you the truth, I
really didn't fancy fucking it at all.   But I'd
thought of that, and the fact that I really wanted to
hurt this fucker, so during the day I'd had the slaves
stop for a few moments downtown whilst I went into a
sex shop and bought a dildo - a monstrous, black
leather one, one that cannot possibly have been
modelled on any real life dick ever in existence!
Look, Stu, you know that I've not got anything to be
ashamed of as far as dick size is concerned, as you
were always telling me how hard it was to wrap your
fingers around it when we were fooling around
together, and when we stood face to face and kissed,
it was obvious that mine was so much longer even than
yours.  But I really wanted to teach Matt a lesson,
and so I'd gone and bought this monstrous thing.

Matt's eyes almost popped out of his head when I
produced it, and I said quietly "Do you want to lube
it a bit, Matt? " as I moved it towards his lips.  He
turned his head away, muttering "Fucker!", and I just
shrugged, positioned it at his hole, and pushed.  I
very quickly realised that his screams would alert
someone and interrupt us, so I pulled his stinking
socks off his feet and simply stuffed them into his
mouth (squeezing his balls to make him open wide!).
And then I worked on him with that thing - he tried to
arch his body as if to get away from it as I slowly
and inexorably pushed it right up inside him, and he
was thrashing his head from side to side and making
loud but totally inarticulate noises as I did so.  It
was really difficult, I can tell you - there's an
incredible resistance to overcome if you try to push
something that size up an ass without lubing and
stretching!  Then when it was right in, I didn't allow
him any time to recover at all as I started to slide
it in and out, all the time seeing Matt's body
spasming, and listening to the terrible noises he was
making.

The problem in using a dildo of course is that
although it stretches the hole and can hurt terribly
as it does so, there's no other physical sensation as
there is when you fuck a guy properly - that
additional hurt you can cause when you really slam
your body hard against the sensitive parts of his, and
I didn't want Matt to miss out on any of this!  I'd
thought about caning him, but had instead also bought
a paddle, a long, very flexible one made of stiff
black leather, and so I pushed the dildo up him once
more and left it there, and then began to beat at
those very sensitive parts of his body with this
paddle.  The "slap" noise it made as the leather made
contact with the tender skin on the inside of Matt's
thighs right near his hole was most gratifying,
especially as I saw Matt jerk with shock each time it
struck.  In addition to the noise he was making, I
could see tears coursing down his cheeks now, so I
began once more to alternate quick, violent thrusts
with the dildo with sessions with the paddle.

He was lucky that I bore easily, Stu, as I just
couldn't be bothered to carry on for more than about
fifteen minutes, but when I pulled the dildo out for
the last time I almost restarted when I saw how much
he'd been stretched by it - I just knew it must be
almost agonisingly painful for him, and that he'd be
completely humiliated by what had happened to him.  I
needed to do a few more things, though, so the
electric clippers I'd borrowed from the slave sheds
were used to quickly strip off the majority of the
hair around his ass and pubes, and then I unbuttoned
his shirt and ran them right up through the forest of
his belly and chest, leaving a white trail through the
black curls.    I didn't really like having to jerk
him off, so I pulled on a rubber glove to do it, and I
simply didn't care that the friction this caused
seemed to be making the shaft of his dick red and
sore, even breaking the sensitive skin slightly so
that there were red patches of blood on the glove!
The white path down his body was then slicked with his
cum, and then, as a finale, I went and stood right by
his face and jerked myself off so that my cum sprayed
all over his eyes, nose and chin.

It was like photographing the carcass of some hunted
animal when I got out my digital camera and started to
take shots of him - his ass with the dildo sticking
out, his dick and balls shaved of their hair, the cum
streaking his shaved chest, and finally the smears of
my cum all over his face, and then I'd finished.   I
untied his legs, and then, as I went to untie his
hands, I got out my prod again and let him see me turn
it on.  "So, Matt, that's what it's like to get force
fucked!"  I told him.  "I could have done it myself:
as you saw when I shot my cum all over your face, I've
got a big dick, too.  But I didn't want it up your
dirty ass, and so I used the dildo instead.  I've got
some good pictures, Matt - picture s that will go up
in the BDQ, and in the bar over the road, and out on
the web.  Do you want all the other draymen to see you
with  big black dildo up you, Matt?  And for them to
know that another man's cum has slimed all over your
face?  So just lie the quietly until I've gone, and
let there be no thought of you taking revenge tomorrow
- you touch me, and the stuff will be  where everyone
can see it."

I turned and walked out of the door, and went along
the corridor to tell Jon all about it.  He was
actually quite worried, as he said that Matt couldn't
be trusted to leave me alone and that he thought  I
was now very at much at risk of a really serious
beating.  But I thought that I could take care of
myself, and wasn't worried.  I went back through the
salve barns to make sure my slaves were OK, and wished
them a cheery good night as I was in a good mood now,
but as I went past Matt's slaves I also took a look
in, and it was horrible!  I don't think they had had
clean straw for weeks, as it smelt rank and
unwholesome, and they were just sitting there looking
really miserable.  They're not big, tough guys like
mine as Matt didn't care what he was given, and they
were an odd mixture of sizes and shapes.  He also
dressed them in shorts on the streets, as the company
paid a "laundry allowance" for this, and the more I
looked, the more it was obvious that Matt claimed the
money, but never had their shorts laundered as they
were all filthy and tattered.  I really felt sorry for
one slave in particular who was just sitting there
with his back against the rear wall, his head resting
on his drawn-up knees as if he was trying to comfort
himself.    I ordered the slaves to their feet, and as
they did so this one slave seemed to have difficulty
in rising, so I shouted at him to get a move on and
one of the others called out "Please allow him more
time, sir, as his collar hurts so much... Please don't
cane him, sir...."

I called this slave to me and was horrified at what I
saw - there must have been a rough place on the base
of his collar as his neck was covered in sores, some
of which were bloody, some weeping pus, and some which
were covered in thick scabs.  The collar must have
been doing this for weeks, and how could Matt not have
known as it was obviously affecting the slave's
performance if it was so painful that he couldn't move
quickly?  I then noticed that a lot of the slaves were
scratching themselves, and especially their pubes, and
it occurred to me that there must be fleas, or even
lice, in these filthy conditions!  It was absolutely
disgraceful, wasting the company resources like this,
and I flipped open my cell and called to Jon to come
down.

We ordered the slaves to strip, and the damage to
their bodies was dreadful  as there were cane stripes
and whip marks all over them, not just on those areas
where it's "safe" to cane a slave, such as the butt
and thighs.  Jon pulled on a pair of rubber gloves and
started to look critically at the slaves' pubes and
said quietly one word "Crabs!".  The slaves were very
thin, too, almost emaciated, and we wondered why as
there was always enough food in the feeder to keep the
slaves healthy and in good condition.  Jon asked them
when they were last fed, and one slave dared to say
that Master Matt had given them breakfast, but was "as
usual" punishing them for not working hard enough by
withholding their dinner.  I tell you, Stu, it was a
complete disgrace:  the sores, the filthy conditions
giving rise to the crabs, and letting the slaves
starve - how on earth was Matt supposed to get them to
give the effort they needed to the Company?  And he
was certainly misusing our valuable assets.  I turned
to Jon and said "Fire him!", and when Jon started to
argue as he quite liked Matt "as a person", even
though "he clearly had a few work-related problems", I
almost lost my temper with him, and told him that if
he didn't fire Matt there and then, I'd tell dad about
the very lax state at the depot!

We simmered down, though, and as we worked away
together to try to recover the slaves, he did begin to
realise that Matt had to go - he was just so fucking
idle, so mad keen to get over to the pub, that he
neglected his slaves, which were his responsibility.
Then there was the issue of defrauding the company -
he must be claiming "laundry allowance" for the
slaves' shorts but clearly it wasn't being done:
apart from anything else, the sight of these dirty
creatures on the streets would not be a good
advertisement for our company.  With this many
examples of his unsatisfactory performance, he could
not, after all, sue us for wrongful dismissal!

The first thing I did was to fetch a couple of feeders
over and we had the slaves kneel so that we could pump
some food into them - a couple of complete doses each
(you can't give them more, as it's so concentrated
that it would be bad for them).  Jon then ordered them
to clear away their filthy straw (they'd even soiled
it, as presumably Matt had not got them trained
properly to only crap when they were in the showers),
and to scrub out their cage with disinfectant before
laying down fresh straw from the barn.  Their shorts
had to go, of course, and we then took them  off to
the showers, but as they came out they had to be
clipped and shaved:  Jon roused one of the slave
"grooms" we keep to do things like this, and he
clipped off all their body hair, and then shaved away
the stubble.  Jon told me that the only way you can
really get rid of "crabs" -  pubic lice - if you don't
want a long programme of special shampoos and stuff is
just to get rid of the nesting places, so all these
slaves' hair just had to go.

You always think I'm "cruel" to slaves, Stu, so you'd
have been proud of me then.  The slave with all the
sores looked so young and vulnerable as he knelt there
in front of me, now more naked than he'd ever been
before as he'd lost every trace of his hair.  He was
only about our age anyway, I'd guess, and with more of
your taller,  lanky build than mine, but he was so
painfully thin that I could clearly see all his ribs
outlined through his skin.  I went to examine the
sores, and he whimpered softly as I moved the collar
and felt for the rough patch. Then, as I tried to calm
him and reassure him, I asked him what his number was,
and he said "Chad, sir.  Master Matt doesn't give us
numbers, but lets us use our own names."  I fetched a
file from over in the workshops, and as I gently filed
away at the rough place, I asked him more about
himself.  Incredibly, Stu, he'd gone into the northern
army at eighteen and was barely out of training before
they'd sent him down to fight us!  So he was just like
us - at some point he'd have been listening to the
same music, going to the same movies, learning the
same stuff at school - but now he was a naked slave
kneeling at my feet, and he'd be a slave for the rest
of our lives.  If the war had gone differently, Stu,
it could have been us kneeling like that in front of
some northerner!  Once his collar was smooth, I rubbed
salve into his wounds and disinfectant - he cried out
as that really stung him - and as I worked away he
seemed to grow in confidence as he looked up at me as
my fingers massaged his neck.  He said "Sir, please,
sir, could you call my folks in Philadelphia?  They'd
take a collect call, sir, as they must be worried sick
about me - I never got a chance to tell them I was
captured, and dad, in particular, will be so worried
as I'm his only son, and....".  I had to stop him,
Stu, as I didn't want to hear more about how similar
we were  - I mean, I might have to discipline this
slave soon, and you can't afford to be too close to
them.  You know what they say.... in the words of the
old saying "You can't be friends with a slave".  It
was the same with the southern guy, four, who had
tried begging me to call his wife and tell her he was
alive, as he'd left her with two small kids.  I'd had
to explain to him, as I now explained to Chad, that he
was a slave now, and slaves don't have families!  And
even if their loved ones knew where they were, there
was nothing they could do about it as a slave was a
slave for life, with no possibility of being free
again.  In fact, in law, all sorts of stuff like
marriages are automatically dissolved as the slave is
of course not a real person and only people can marry,
inherit money from their fathers, and so on.    Still,
he was good to look at, even in his pathetic state,
and if I closed my eyes as I massaged the stuff into
him, I could almost imagine it was you.   Steve.

Steve:  So, not content with fucking slaves, you're
going into the BDSM scene too, are you?  Tying up,
leather dildos, shaving..... whatever next?  I'm
expecting an e-mail from you any day now telling me
you've bought one of those female slaves - I know
they're high priced as they're relatively rare as
there were so few women in the army, but then, your
dad can afford it!  Perhaps you can share her with
him?     Look, I know it feels good to take revenge,
but remember what the good book says "Vengeance is
mine, sayeth the lord".   I'm surprised you feel so
passionately about these slaves - one minute you say
they're just like animals, so they can be fucked and
whipped and so on, and the next minute you're feeling
sorry for them as they're dirty, lice-ridden,
starving, and covered in sores, because their drayman
doesn't take proper care of them!  It strikes me
you're a bit inconsistent, Steve:  when it suits you,
you say they're animals as you feel it's not right to
fuck a man against his will (it's called rape -
remember?).  But then the next minute it's Steve the
caring one, outraged that these "animals" are not
being treated properly.    Doesn't this strike you as
odd?  Stu.

Stu:  Please.... No more of this!  You almost made me
vomit into the PC!  I mean, even suggesting that I
might fuck a woman.  And as for sharing with dad -
ugh!   That great fat belly of his.... I can hardly
imagine he could even mount a woman, let alone fuck
her.  But perhaps it mightn't be so bad - a lot of
those women soldiers are really "butch" and if I took
them up the ass it can't be all that different, can
it?  Still, who needs it, when there's enough proper
sex to be had any time I want it, with my slaves.

And my attitude to the slaves isn't at all
inconsistent - they are animals, and they are there to
be used - used for work (when they need "encouraging"
to give of their best), and used for sex, if I choose.
 And it's not "compassion" that makes me furious at
the way Matt treated his gang, it's the waste of money
involved!  These slaves are really expensive, you
know.  There's a lot of the company's money tied up in
them, and, really, that's going to be my money one
day.  Of course I'm furious when I see something that
belongs to me being mistreated and devalued.  I hope
that clears it up, once and for all.

Anyway, let me tell you what happened next.  Jon
called Matt in the following morning and fired him.
The bully argued and shouted, but Jon handed him a
pile of expense claims where he'd put in for laundry
for the slave shorts, and said he'd call the cops if
Matt didn't clear out.  And he let Matt "notice" that
elsewhere on his desk there was one of the photos I'd
taken of Matt with the dildo sticking out of his ass,
and his face covered in cum where you could just see
the last inch of my dick, which had clearly deposited
the cum over him!  Matt got the hint, that he'd be
ridiculed by all the other draymen if he tried to
stay, and stormed out.    That left his team of slaves
and, initially at least, Jon decided to rest them for
a day, and then put them into the "pool" of spare
slaves that we can use to back-fill a team if one of
the regular slaves in that team is injured.  I
happened to be passing on my way to get two and the
boys, as a driver came out to lead them away.  Young
Chad was standing there, looking really pleased to be
let off work, as were the others.  But I had an idea,
and told the guard to take the other seven away, and
to lead Chad over to my dray and tell him to wait.

When I'd got all the other eight in position on the
pulling pole and we went off to load up, I told Chad
to watch carefully as the warehouse slaves loaded all
the packages.  I've told you how they load them in
"delivery route" sequence except for the large, or
bulky ones, and this always causes problems as the
stuff gets out of sequence and sometimes we really
have to search for a package, that holds everything
up.  So I asked Chad if he could read, and he snapped
back that if it wasn't for the war he'd be in college
(like you, Stu!).  I had to strike at him with the
tawse for using that tone, of course, and then  I gave
him the loading manifest.  I told him that his job was
to ride on the back and sort the packages as we went
along, so that the right one would always be to hand
whenever we stopped.  I tapped my cane with my hand as
I reminded him that I wanted this done properly, and
that I wouldn't tolerate delays as this was his sole
task today.

The other slaves looked mildly rebellious as they saw
they were going to have to pull the weight of another
slave as well as the loaded dray, but this is where
two is so good - within seconds he'd reminded them
that it was no good bitching and arguing about it, as
it was my decision, and they'd just got to get on with
it and make the best of it.  And, I have to say, it
was another one of those strokes of innovative genius
on my part - without any delays at each delivery
point, we got back to the depot an hour earlier than
expected.  I looked at my eight sweating slaves and
pointed out they had another hour of relaxation now,
and I could see them nodding - so maybe they
understood that my scheme wasn't so terrible after
all.  But who cares what they think?  Mind you, I told
two that I thought that Chad needed exercising, as
although he'd been clambering around on the dray all
day, that was hardly sufficient.  So when I took them
over to the cage and fed them, I put all eight of them
in it as usual, then pushed Chad in, before locking
the gate for the night.  Two at once cleared  space in
the middle of them all - not easy, given the size of
the cage, and there were now nine of them in there and
not eight, remember - and began to bark orders for
Chad to run on the spot, then do "jumping jacks", then
push-ups.  At first Chad tried to simply ignore two
and not do it, but two is of course six inches taller
and at least fifty pounds of pure muscle heavier than
Chad.  After a couple of attempts to reason with him,
two bent down, grabbed Chad and put him over his knee,
and gave him four big slaps on the butt.  Chad
squealed, I can tell you, but when he saw all the
other slaves were laughing he realised that two had
not hurt him all that much, but that he'd better do as
he was told in case two really turned nasty.  I went
home feeling really pleased with progress.  Steve.


Steve:  OK, so the odious Matt has gone.  But you've
thrown this poor kid, the one who looks like me, in
with these eight big horny men and locked them in
overnight together?  I thought you told me that there
was only just room for the eight to sleep as it was,
as it was a deliberate policy, to help with "bonding".
And now you've added a ninth?  I think I can feel my
ass beginning to ache just at the thought of it!  I
suppose you're expecting these eight big guys to fuck
the kid - they're all taller, more powerful, older....
What chance does he have?  Psychologists might say
that you're doing "transference" - you really want to
be in there yourself, being ravished by these guys!
Or that you secretly want to ravish me, and you're
living out a fantasy by having eight big bucks
ravishing a guy who looks a lot like me!  It's all a
bit "deep", Steve....  Or were you just trying to
reward your slaves for a job well done by giving them
some tender young chicken (I believe the phrase is, in
the circles in which you move!).  Stu.

Stu:  Firstly, I don't need to reward slaves.  Slaves
just do as they're told.  When will you get this
simple idea into your thick skull, college boy?
Hmmm.... Have you switched from English Lit and poetry
to psychology 101?  Transference, indeed!   You must
know you're spouting a load of rubbish:  I've never
secretly wanted to ravish you - I've always been
perfectly open and frank about it!  It's only you who
always stopped it getting interesting after I'd
finally got you to see how much more fun jerking off
together, rather than separately, was.  No, I put the
ninth slave, Chad,  in there as I want him to become
part of the team, a full part of the team.  And I also
want him to look good - a bit more muscle is always
pleasing to the eye.  And, anyway, what makes you
think that he might get "ravished"?  A lot of nineteen
year olds are perfectly capable of taking charge and
"ravishing" older guys, you know, even if they're
bigger, stronger, etc.  It all depends on who likes to
give, and who likes to take, dick.

Anyway, the following morning when I went down to the
cage it was good to see that two had protected Chad
all night - the kid was spooned up against two, and
two had his arm wrapped protectively around him.  I
woke them all up and had them kneel,  then told them I
wanted to see them all jerk off (I'd sort of got out
of the habit of this, as I generally allowed them to
fuck and stuff at night).  All my eight at once
started, of course, but a look of almost pure horror
went across Chad's face!  He looked a bit like you,
Stu, that night when I suggested that after we'd got
used to jerking off together, we might go on to
something a bit more adult!  He looked along the line
of slaves and saw all their dicks sticking out and the
hands in motion, and very reluctantly, very slowly, he
began to do the same.  They all make a lot of noise,
actually - as they get near the edge they start
moaning and grunting and crying out (I'd thought about
ordering them to be silent, but it seems a pity to
spoil one of the few bits of pleasure they have, and,
actually, it's anyway quite a turn-on to have all
these guys grunting away as their seed shoots out),
and it didn't take long before Chad was the same:  his
head was thrown back and his back was arched, and his
dick was really good when erect - nice and smooth,
without any of those thick veins some guys have.
They all shoot at different times, of course, and Chad
was one of the first to fire, in spite of his
embarrassment:  it wasn't just the fact that he had to
do this very "private" thing in public now, but he
must have seen that his own body was so different from
all the others around him - they were tall, muscular,
tanned, and nicely trimmed, whereas he was shorter,
thin, had stark white thighs and butt, and was
completely hairless.

Still, when I allowed them all to stand up, he seemed
to have the same type of smile on his face that all
the others did, so I guess he enjoyed it.  I called
him out of the line then, and had him bend backwards
over a "horse" so that his dick was at a convenient
height for me to work with.  I stretched his dick and
balls away from his body - as gently as I could - and
snapped one of the steel rings around, at the root,
locking it shut with the special key.  He now had the
same sort of cinch ring as the others, except it was
much more visible as there was no pubic hair to
conceal it.  He looked worried, and when I gave the
order to march out to the dray, he looked around for
his shorts:  two evidently guessed what I meant to do,
though, as he nudged Chad and made him jog out with
the rest, and Chad then had to work away naked as the
packages were all loaded.  It was only as the dray
approached the gates of the depot that he dared to
lean forward and said to me "Please, sir, can I put my
shorts on now?" and I had to give him the little
lecture I'd given all the others about how he didn't
need them, as his slave collar was absolutely
sufficient.  He looked so young and innocent with his
thin white body, entirely devoid of hair, and as we
went through the gates and out on to the highway he
tried in vain to cover himself with his hands.

Today I tried an even more daring strategy for
improving efficiency - instead of having Chad just
sort the packages so we had short delivery stops, when
those packages were very small I had him jump down
from the dray, go to deliver them himself and then run
to catch us up - we didn't stop at all.  He seemed to
hate it - well, think about it, Stu:  a guy of our
age, having to run naked (and more than that -
remember, he was completely hairless) to talk to
people as he got receipts signed for and so on, and
then having to run at high speed with his dick bobbing
up and down as he chased after the dray!  But that's
not the point, is it?  The fact of the matter is that
we achieved record delivery times, and even though all
the slaves were bone tired (the eight on the dray were
used to having short breaks in the stops, and Chad was
of course running most of the time), it was a huge
increase in efficiency.  That night I rewarded them
all with a couple of slave treats, and declared it
another "free sex" night - not that I think most of
them were in the mood, as their limbs all ached a
lot.    Steve.


Steve:  Great news!  I proposed to Inga last night,
and she accepted.  We're planning to get married in
the Fall, from our house, as my mom and dad and all
the family don't want to travel to Sweden - Inga's
folks are happy to come here, though.  Will you be my
"best man", as Inga calls it - you know:  organise the
stag night, get me to the church on time, make sure I
have the ring, look after the bridesmaids, make a
funny speech at the reception.... and all that sort of
stuff? But seriously, though, Steve:  remember, dad's
a respected pastor, and we have a position to maintain
in society.  So no stripping me naked at the stag
night, no risky jokes at the reception....  This is
serious, Steve:  I want to spend the rest of my life
with her, and I don't want it all to start badly.
Stu.

Stu:  Of course I will!  If you hadn't chosen me I'd
never have spoken to you again.  And I promise not to
strip you at the stag night - but if you're very
drunk, I might just jerk you off as we used to!
Speaking of which, why don't you come down for the
weekend, and let's just be close, and talk, and laugh,
and have "fun" just as we used to, before you went
away?  Now that you're fucking women it doesn't mean
that you can't also have a little recreational sex
with your oldest buddy.  A lot of married guys do, so
it must be OK for engaged ones, too.  Steve.

Steve:  I love Inga, I told you that.  I couldn't have
sex with another guy when I'm in love with her.  I
don't care what other men do - this one isn't going
to.   And you're making a false assumption:  we're not
"fucking" as you so inelegantly put it.  We're saving
each other for our wedding night.  Stu.

Stu:  You can't be serious!  How on earth can you even
think about marrying her when you haven't fucked her?
What's the matter?  Are you afraid, or something?   It
certainly can't be that you're ashamed of that dick of
yours, or your body - both very desirable, believe me,
speaking as one who has a keen appreciation of the
male form.  Come on home, buddy, and let's get this
sorted - we're close enough that you can tell me
what's wrong, and I promise not to laugh!  If it's
your lack of experience you're worried about, we can
just get two or one of the other formerly married
slaves to tell you what to do and how to do it!  I'm
told that providing you do it "doggy fashion" a nice
ass isn't all that different from some woman's cunt,
so we could get one of the slaves to tell you about
it, then you could practice on him, then he could
critique it.  Steve.

Steve:  Look, Steve, I don't suppose you can
understand this, but the Lord tells us in the bible
that marriage is a sacred trust, and that it's wrong
to have sex outside marriage.  So I'm remaining chaste
until after the ceremony.  And as for the idea that I
might fuck one of your slaves, it's preposterous -
that's certainly a sin, for one man to lie with
another!  So let's drop this one, shall we?  I'll get
home as soon as I can for a weekend, but there won't
be any fucking - not even any jerking off together.
Look, I want us to stay friends, just as we always
have been, but marriage changes everything and
inevitably there will be some differences in the way
we hang out and so  on - for one thing, I expect Inga
and I will ask you around to dinner, and stuff like
that, and there won't be as many times when we are
just alone together.  But let's stay friends, OK?
Stu.

Stu:  Of course we'll stay friends.  Even if I am a
miserable sinner, in your eyes, for "lying with
another man" - although as I mostly go with slaves now
as most of the other guys are away at college, like
you, I suppose that's OK as they're not men (no, don't
respond, I'm only teasing!).  Let me tell you about
how things are going here in the boring old world of
work, though.

Having the young slave Chad doing most of the
deliveries then running to catch up with the dray was
a real success, as we now could go back to the depot
and load up again in the day as we'd saved so much
time.  The slaves all grumbled, of course, but a few
gruff words from two, reinforced by a little light
caning from me, soon restored them to their senses and
made them properly respectful and obedient again.
Chad soon put on a bit of muscle and ceased to look
like a half-starved waif, but not so much that he
looked as well developed as two and the others - well,
at our age it's difficult, isn't it?  However much you
work out you tend to keep toned and fit, but unless
you devote yourself to it full time, you can't get
those ridges of muscle on your belly, and bulging
biceps, and so on - that seems to happen as you get
more mature.  He really does remind me of you, Stu -
providing, that is, you've kept up going to the gym!
Nice long legs, a butt that just calls out for
fucking, and a dick that's just right for his body
size hanging over nice low, swinging balls.  And he's
got cute eyes, too - the most astonishing piercing
shade of blue, and nice white, even teeth.  I suspect
he's a virgin, too - when I'd initially inspected him
his ass was so tight, and he squirmed so uncomfortably
as I tried to push a finger in that I suspected that
he'd never had proper sex - just like you, Stu!  And
since he'd been with my team, they'd kind of treated
him as some sort of "mascot" - this much younger,
slimmer, guy in amongst all those mature men - and
they hadn't even tried to fuck him.  He generally
slept curled up around two, as if this gave him
"protection" from the others, and, so far a I could
see from scanning the security tapes, two had never
even tried to take advantage of him.  He did the
"group" sex things of course, as he had no option but
to obey me when I made them line up and jerk off
together in the mornings (well, you can't have these
naked slaves going through the streets dripping
pre-cum, can you?  It would send the wrong sort of
messages to our customers.  So the slaves needed
"draining" occasionally, and getting them all to do it
at one time is the easiest way of making sure all of
them have done it).

I'd been over to the bar for a couple of beers with
the other draymen - even though Matt had gone, the bar
tender still served me as he valued the depot's
business too much to bother about enforcing the law -
and was walking back to the depot a bit unsteadily,
when my dick went hard.  I don't know why - we all get
spontaneous erections, don't we?  Even poet like you,
who don't have sex....?  It's part of being a young
male!  I was really aching by the time I'd got back,
as my dick rubbed against the material of my uniform
shorts, and I was almost desperate to jerk off.  I
thought about putting one of the slaves on the "horse"
and fucking him, and as my mind raced through the
possibilities and was busy selecting which of the
eight I'd have, I almost completely forgot Chad.  But
once I'd thought about him, it was impossible to get
him out of my mind.  I just knew that I was leaking
pre-cum all over my shorts as I imagined his lovely
tender butt pulled apart and my dick nudging at his
virgin hole:   it would be such a change from the big,
hard muscles of the other slaves.  And I might even be
taking the cherry of a guy my own age - our age, I
should say.   Other than the bit of mutual jerking off
we did together, I'd never had sex with a guy like us
before, and the more I thought about it, the more this
is what I knew I must do!  My pace speeded up and my
heart began to thud with the excitement in store for
me, and my brain filled with the images of Chad's slim
body on the horse, of the way he'd buck and scream as
my dick went into him, and how it would feel
afterwards to be lying on top of a fresh young body
like his:  it would be such a change to feel his body
under mine and to have my thighs hard up against his
almost smooth ones, rather than the tough curly hair
on one of the other slaves.

I went into the slave barn, but when I got to the cage
with the nine of them in it, I began to sweat with
apprehension.  I'd never had any problems before when
I'd decided to fuck one of the slaves, but for some
reason I suddenly began to worry that when my dick was
having to force itself in to him, I might have one of
those embarrassing failures as my dick went soft on me
- it does happen occasionally to all of us, after all.
 And the more I thought about it, the more I knew it
might happen, and then all the eight others watching
me through the bars would start to laugh at me... And
as I thought about that, my dick started to go soft!

End Of Part Eight