Date: Wed, 18 May 2011 00:17:40 -0700 (PDT)
From: Christian Debus <servus4u@ymail.com>
Subject: "The Aftermath" (Or What Follows Next) Chapter 11

THE AFTERMATH
(Or What Follows Next)
Chapter 11


This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen years.

Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris)
"To see all my stories go to groups.yahoo.com/group/SlaveNow"

Chapter 11: Slave "327" (Part 1)

The slave lies on his back, tied to the branding table - his movements
restricted by the tight straps holding him down. Fearfully, he awaits the
arrival of his new master.

He knows he is to be branded - that much is obvious. Heating up, on a table
alongside him, is the cruel instrument of his impending torture; an electric
branding iron. He turns his head to look at the design of the brand. He is
horrified to see the outline of an erect cock and two balls - thrown almost into
3-D relief - contained within an ornamental, five centimetres diameter circle.
He supposes this to be the sign of a Patroklos Club "pleasure slave". Futilely,
he struggles to free himself; his now smooth chest heaving from his exertions.

He knows from his previous branding that he is about to experience much pain. He
vividly remembers the occasion when he received the mandatory S brand at his old
master's farm. The slave recalls that there are two types of pain associated
with a branding. There's the short-lived, intense, unimaginable pain of the
actual branding itself and then there's the lingering, throbbing pain as the
brand heals itself. Helplessly, he accepts the inevitability of both.

He knows it is morning but doesn't know the exact time of day; anyway time is of
no relevance to him. As a slave, all his actions are decided for him by his
master and his only role is to listen and obey. He is aware that he is to be
branded in the presence of his new master at some time around midday. That much
he'd overheard in a conversation between his master and the man who operates
this vile place.

Already his body is in distress. Firstly, there is the lingering itching of his
body as a result of the removal of his body hair. And secondly, there is the
pain in his swollen nipples to remind him of their recent piercing; both
nipples, puffed up and throbbing with pain, are aggravated by the weight of the
platinum rings he now wears. And he is, as yet, unaccustomed to the weight of
the new platinum collar around his neck and the matching cock-ring and ball
cinch fastened around his genitals.

Left lying on the table, he has time to reflect on all that has happened to him
over the past twenty-four hours. Yesterday, he'd been displayed and sold; that
much he remembers with clarity. After that, everything is a jumble of confused
thoughts, discomfort, pain, and soul- destroying humiliation.

....................................

Firstly, they removed his former master's rough, iron collar from around his
neck. Without his collar for the first time in the six, long years of his slavery, he
felt that freedom that is enjoyed by all free men; yet, without the collar, he
felt strangely naked. Then he'd been taken from the display room to a
rudimentary ablution block to be cleaned up by the establishment's slave
assistants.

Humiliatingly, he'd been flushed clean. Forced to bend at the waist he'd had
a nozzle inserted into his ass and water pumped into his bowels. Then, made to
squat over a latrine set into the floor, he expelled the foul mess before the
nozzle was re-inserted. This process was repeated four times before the
assistants were satisfied that he was running clean. And all this was done in
the assistants' presence; as they nonchalantly watched him empty himself.
Through the years of his slavery, he thought he was inured to all the
indignities a master could inflict upon a slave. He was wrong; this was a new
low. In his mind, his already poor perception of himself plummeted to a new
depth - one he'd never envisaged. He now felt the heavy weight of utter
worthlessness and bleak despair.

Next, the assistants had vigorously scrubbed him from head to toe him with a
coarse, grey soap that had a strong carbolic smell. Then, hosed down, he was
left to dry. Once dry, he was taken to the "stripping" room.

There, he was hurriedly chained, spread-eagled, into an upright frame and left
to wait. Looking around he saw that he wasn't alone- there were two other slaves
wriggling in identical frames. Like him, both were young and hairy - the one in
the frame next to him was particularly so. Thick, black hair covered the chest,
belly, back, arms and legs of this slave; its coarseness and thickness concealed
his impressive musculature. How long they waited the slave didn't know. Then, to
ease the strain on his outstretched body, he too began to wriggle.

Eventually, the three, waiting slaves were joined by the proprietor and his two
slave assistants. The slave knew the man's name was Samuel Norton; his
assistants were nameless and were referred to simply as "slave".

Sam Norton was businesslike in his approach to the three, suspended slaves.
Approaching the first slave, he barked the order to "STOP WRIGGLING! And that
goes for the three of you." Then, laughingly he added. "You'll soon have a
reason to wriggle."

Quickly and methodically he ran his hands down over the first slave's body.
Turning to his assistants he simply stated, "Medium treatment for this one."

Then, standing in front of the hairy slave, he stated. "You're an ugly brute
aren't you? You're a real gorilla. I wonder what your owner sees in you. Let's
see what you're like under all that fur." Then, after examining the slave's
body, he instructed his assistants. "This one requires full strength."

Next, it was the slave's turn and for the second time that afternoon, he felt
the man's hands on his body. As they moved swiftly over the slave's body, Sam
Norton confirmed his earlier decision to use a weak solution on this slave. The
slave's skin was tender and Sam didn't want to damage him in any way. Anyway,
his hair was fine -in places it's little more than down -and it will remove
easily, unlike the hairy slave next to him. Unfortunately, for that slave he
will, most probably, require further treatment.

Sam enjoyed his examination of the slave and as his hands moved slowly over the
magnificent body, he envied Simon's ownership of such a beautiful slave. Still
Simon had kindly invited him to visit the Patroklos Club and had offered him the
free use of the slave. This was an offer too good to refuse and he'd certainly
avail himself of Simon's generosity. He determined to ensure that the slave's
conversion from a rough field slave into one of the club's "pretty boys" met
with Simon's approval. He instructed his assistants. "This one only requires a
weak solution, but make it a bit stronger around the genitals and in his crack."

Respectfully the slaves replied. "Certainly, Master. Do you require them to be
gagged?"

"Of course, that goes without saying. You SHOULDN"T need to ask" Sam snapped."

The chastened assistants humbly apologized with a profusion of "Sorry, Master.
I'm sorry Master."

Ignoring their apologies, Sam left them to continue with their work.

Working quickly, the assistants coated each of the slaves with a milk coloured,
jell-like substance before thoroughly massaging it into their skins. Particular
attention was paid to those areas of the body where the hair grew thickest; the
armpits, beards, chests, bellies and pubes. As one of the assistants worked on
the slave's genital area - and suggestively stroked his cock - the other was
busy applying the gel to the cleft between his buttocks. Stimulated by a finger
playfully tickling his hole, the slave was soon in a state of arousal and like
the other two slaves his rampantly erect cock poked out at right-angles to his
belly. Finally the three slaves were gagged and their job now done, the two
slave assistants left the room.

Unable to talk and with restricted movement, the slave hung suspended in his
frame. He felt uncomfortable from the stickiness of the glue- like substance
covering his body; but there wasn't any pain. Like his fellow slaves he
`fidgeted' to relieve the strain on his aching limbs. He wondered for how long
he'd be left to hang like this.

Slowly, the late afternoon light, filtering in through a skylight, gave way to
an early evening gloom. Suddenly, he became away of the "hairy" slave's
agitation and muffled moans as he began to thrash about in frame. Soon, he was
joined by the other slave. Then, the slave noticed a tingling sensation
enveloping his body. Slowly, as the room darkened into night-time blackness, the
tingling turned to a burning sensation and the slave too began to moan through
his gag and wriggle in a vain effort to find relief. Within the darkness of the
room, the three moaning slaves thrashed around in their restraints futilely
seeking to ease their suffering. Through his distress, the slave recalled Sam
Norton's earlier comment to Simon about "an uncomfortable night but it can't be
helped". Despite his pain, he was aware that his treatment was mild in
comparison to that of his fellow slaves. He can only guess at their suffering;
particularly that of the hairy slave.

Through the long hours of darkness the three slaves writhed in their common
misery; their muffled moans breaking the silence of the night. Then, as the
first light of dawn showed through the skylight, his suffering eased - the
burning gave way to an irritating itch.

Unable to physically relieve this itch, the distressed slaves vainly sort relief
through the constant movement of their bodies. Then, in the early morning light,
the slave looked at his companions and saw that their bodies were bright pink
under a messy mixture of gel and hair. Glancing down over his own body he saw he
was also coated with the same mess as his fellow slaves.

Eventually, when the assistants returned, their gags were removed and the slaves
unfastened from their frames. Once their hands were free, the three slaves
immediately sought to ease the tormenting itch by vigorously scratching their
bodies. As they did so, the assistants laughed heartily at their contortions to
reach the inaccessible parts of their bodies. Their humour was lost on the
three, suffering slaves.

Quickly, the three were hurried into the ablution block and ordered to relieve
themselves before being hosed down and scrubbed clean, ready for inspection by
Sam Norton. The slave luxuriated in the cool, calming effect of the cold water
as it sprayed over his tormented flesh; he watched as his hair disappeared down
the drain. He looked at the other two slaves and was amazed at the sleek
appearance of their now smooth, hairless bodies. He supposed he must look the
same.

Ordered to assume the display position, the three slaves were allowed to "drip
dry" and wait for Sam Norton's arrival. Still irritated by their itching, the
three slaves struggled to maintain their positions and they were "encouraged" to
do so by the canes of the two assistants. Soon they were joined by Sam Norton.

Slowly, he walked around the three of them before pausing in front of the slave.
Then, with the expertise born of much experience, Sam moved his hands over the
slave's body paying particular attention to the smoothness of the skin. He
grunted his approval as his hands slid over the now hairless chest and belly
before he ordered the slave to "Raise your arms above your head, slave".
Obeying, the slave tried desperately to maintain his composure as Sam Norton's
fingers tickled the silky smoothness of his hairless armpits; his quivering
response earned him a sharp slap to the side of the face with the even sharper
rebuke to "Stand still, fuck you!" Sam smiled as tears of pain and shame
trickled down the chastened slave's cheeks. He was pleased at the slave's
response.

For Sam, there isn't room for either sympathy or leniency in dealing with
slaves; they are undeserving of any such displays of emotion from their owners.
Slaves are, after all, only a "commodity"; they exist to serve the needs of
their masters. He thinks of slaves as just another form of domesticated
livestock- although, in truth, he has a higher regard for horses and dogs than
he does for slaves. These latter require very little training to give
unequivocal affection and loyalty to their owners.

Slaves however, possess a higher intelligence and this requires that they be
more strictly controlled by their owners and handlers. Every aspect of a slave's
existence must be channelled into serving his master's requirements. Above all, a
slave must be totally submissive to his master; he mustn't be allowed to think
for himself and he has to be subjected to the firmest discipline. Sam sincerely
believed that a master must be forever vigilant in controlling his slaves. Sam's
own slaves are subject to his very definite views and, as a consequence, they
routinely receive harsh treatment. Therefore, this slave's tears aren't of any
consequence to Sam.

Pausing to explore the deep navel with his index finger, Sam's hands then moved
down over the slave's belly to his smooth groin where all traces of the pubic
hair have been permanently erased. He was delighted with the incipient hardening
of the cock and its eager response to his ministrations. As he stroked the cock
to a full erection, he rolled the balls between his fingers. He was surprised at
the warm suppleness of the scrotum - it had the soft, satiny texture of the
finest kid leather - and really the slave was a delight to handle. He felt the
first stirrings of his own erection as he continued to play with the slave's
balls. However, all good things come to an end, and reluctantly, he removed his
hands from the slave's genitals and placed them on the inside of the slave's
thighs - squeezing them to gauge their muscular hardness. Then, testing for any
residual hair that needed removing, his hands travelled slowly down the inside of
the legs to the feet and then back up the outside to the waist.

The slave struggled to ignore Sam's attention to his body; desperately he willed
himself to remain "calm" so as not to anger the man. Once more, Sam grabbed
hold of the cock and balls and reflected that very shortly they would be ringed.
In his imagination, he saw the slave's genitals gathered together into a tight,
prominent package that placed them on permanent show for all to see and admire.
He had a mental picture of the tightly cinched balls, hanging low in their sac,
swinging freely between the thighs and of the semi-erect cock being forced
forward into an obscene display. He was sure that Simon's clients would truly
appreciate this slave. He knew he did.

Ordering the slave to lower his arms, Sam ran his hands over them, testing their
smoothness before moving over the shoulders to the neck. As Sam placed a thumb
on either side of the throat, he felt the hard throbbing of the arteries keeping
time with the slave's rapid heartbeats. He smiled as he thought of the collar
soon to be fastened around this neck. He'd spent time yesterday evening
engraving the collar with the slave's new designation - "327". He thought the
platinum collar - highly ornate as befits a pleasure slave - would further
enhance this slave's natural allure to those who will use him at the club. He
eagerly anticipated his own visit to the club in response to Simon's kind
invitation and the chance to see the slave at "work" in his new environment.

Suddenly, Sam attention was drawn to the slave's laboured breathing. He watched
as the powerful chest rose and fell and the clearly defined abdominal muscles
rippled with each gulping breath. Drawn to the two very erect nipples adorning
the slave, Sam reached out to touch them - the slave drew back. At Sam's shouted
order to "STAND STILL!" the frightened slave hastily complied.

Sam, grasping the nipples between his forefingers and thumbs, slowly and
deliberately began to work them by alternately pinching them and stretching
them out from the body; the slave winced but stoically maintained his position.
Sam for his part was expertly examining each nipple with a view to its impending piercing.
Sam did his own piercing and decided the slave would be easy to ring. The nipples were
large and stood out from their surrounding aerolae -it would be a simple matter to pierce
them and insert the rings. It was an operation he'd performed many times in the past; he
reflected that if he had a drachma for every slave's nipple he'd
pierced over the years, he'd be considerably richer than he already was.

Then, he turned his attention to an area of the slave's right pectoral just
above the nipple; the area where the slave is to be branded. Quickly, he
accessed the thickness of the slave's skin and decided to apply the branding
iron for the minimum amount of time necessary for it to be effective. The
slave's flesh is young and Sam knew from experience that it will take the brand
beautifully - you only needed to look at the S brand on his left flank to see
that this was so.

To date, Sam was very satisfied with his examination of the slave's body and
there now remained only one other area to examine; perhaps the most important
part and certainly from Sam's perspective the most enjoyable. The slave was
ordered to "Turn, bend and spread."

As the slave shuffled into position, Sam gazed over the inverted V shape of the
slave's body, moving up from the widely spaced feet to the firm, rounded mounds
of the buttocks. Slowly his eyes travelled up the slave's legs pausing to
appreciate the hard knotted, muscles of the calves and the bow-string tightness
of the corded thighs before coming to rest at the apex of the triangle. As Sam
watched, the slave reached behind and, as instructed, parted the twin orbs of
his buttocks exposing his most intimate part to Sam's scrutiny. Sam stood
entranced.

The slave's testicles hung loose in his scrotum and swung freely between his
thighs; Sam appreciated their more than adequate size and the way one hung
slightly lower than the other. Then, even as he watched, he saw the gradual
contraction of the scrotum as it tightened its grip on its precious contents and
drew the balls closer into the body. Lasciviously, Sam ran the tip of his
tongue over his lips as he thought of the accompanying, but unseen, hardening
of the slave's cock. Suddenly, he was painfully aware of his own throbbing
erection.

Once again, the slave felt the sense of degradation and shame that he always
felt when ordered into this position. He felt the sudden rush of blood to his
head and a burning sensation in his face. Was he blushing from embarrassment and
humiliation? Or was he flushed with an anticipatory excitement at what he knew
would inevitably follow? He didn't know.

His mind was a seething cauldron of mixed emotions. On one level, he was
acutely aware of the utter self-worthlessness he felt at this abuse of his body
yet, at the same time, he recalled the enjoyment he felt when this man had
inspected him the previous afternoon. Was he about to experience this pleasure
again? Despite his feelings of self-loathing he really hoped so.

He was confused by his conflicting needs - on the one hand he wanted to be
spared the humiliation of an examination and yet, on the other hand, he hoped
for the sexual release he so desperately yearned for. As he looked back between
his outstretched legs to the man standing behind him, he felt the contraction of
his balls and the rapid erection of his cock. He felt the first, tiny sparks of
pleasure as beads of pre-cum dribbled out of his piss-slit and threaded their
way down to the floor. Suddenly, he sensed movement behind him and his body
quivered as Sam's hands came to rest on top of his ass.

Sam enjoyed the feel of the warm, hard buttocks under his hands and he
particularly appreciated their hairless smoothness. Then, he moved his hands
down over the knotted muscles of the slave's back to the broad shoulders. He was
pleased with the feel of the slave; especially of the warm, silky texture of the
skin. Unusually for Sam, he lovingly stroked the slave's back and playfully
ruffled his cropped hair. The slave shuddered in response.

Sam admired the deep, golden tan of the slave's body. He was particularly
fascinated at the way the deeper colour of the buttocks faded into the paler,
softer tones of the protected valley dividing them; the subtlety of these colour
changes perfectly complemented the deep, rosy-pink jewel gleaming at the centre
of the cleft.

Sam had always wondered why people persisted in ludicrously referring to an
ass-hole as a rosebud. Within the limited scope of his imagination, he
couldn't see any similarity to that flower. Was it the colour? Perhaps it was
someone's idea of a joke or was it simply a case of "poetic license"? Still, as
he watched the involuntary contractions of the slave's sphincter; the striated
flesh radiating out from the central opening did vaguely resemble the unfolding
petals of an opening flower. Perhaps that's it?

Sam was enchanted by the daintiness of the slave's anus- its pulsations promised
so much pleasure. Damn it! He really needed to fuck this slave.

Sam recalled from yesterday's inspection that the slave is tight. He was eager
to once more explore the warm, moist interior of the slave's rectum. But first
he ran his index finger up and down the crack to determine if it was free of any
residual hair; he was gratified to find no trace of either hair or stubble.
Then, he used his finger to excite the slave.

The slave enjoyed the touch of the man's hands resting on top of his buttocks.
He knew he should feel revulsion at their touch but instead he longed for them
to further explore his eager body. As the hands moved down over his naked back
to his shoulders, he shivered with an expectancy of further pleasure. And as
they softly stroked his back and tousled his hair, his brain began to register
the countless sparks of pleasure now coursing through him; reducing him to a
quivering mass of nerve-ends. He moaned softly at the exquisite agony as the
finger relentlessly teased his anus. Bewildered, he wanted it to stop, but he
wanted it to continue and, most of all, he desperately wanted to feel the man's
finger enter into his body.

Confused, the slave wondered -what is happening to me? The slave didn't know the
answer to his question. He only knew that in the past two days he'd been
awakened to new feelings and new sensations that he'd previously been unaware
of. He'd always enjoyed mutually agreed upon sex with his fellow
slaves - especially with his friends, the two blond cousins. Suddenly, the thought
of them overwhelmed him and intruded into the pleasure of the moment.

His eyes filled with tears as he thought of them. He wondered...where are they?
Have they been sold? Are they still together or have they been parted and sold
separately? What type of slavery have they been condemned to? A silent, solitary
sob racked his body as he realized that, most probably, he would never see them
again. The slave felt hatred for his former master and his callous decision to
sell him and his two friends; this hatred even extended to the cruel treatment
of the former farm steward, Toby. Momentarily, he knew the suppressed
bitterness, hurt, rage and frustration that all slaves inherently feel but,
fearful of the direst of punishments, they carefully keep hidden from their
masters.

Suddenly, these thoughts were interrupted as Sam's finger was thrust deep within
him causing him to gasp, audibly. Helplessly, he yielded his body to Sam's
ministrations and as the finger continued to violate him, the slave surrendered
himself to the intense pleasure engulfing his body.

Then, the slave's confusion returned.

Once again he asked -what is happening to me? Previously, he'd never willingly
submitted to being fucked by the other slaves at the farm. Of course, there had
been occasions when he'd allowed the cousins to do so; but that was different
and had only been done out of his affection for them. However, he'd never
really enjoyed the experience. Now, he wondered; why he hadn't?

For some inexplicable reason he found himself enjoying this, what was for him,
new, unaccustomed use of his body. What did it mean? Did it mean that at some
deeper level he was realizing his true nature? Did this mean that he would
enjoy his new life as a pleasure slave? Would his life at the Patroklos Club
give him the same intense pleasure as he now felt? He really hoped so. Or was
it just an acceptance of the reality of his new status - that of a slave whose
only purpose in life is to submit to his new master's clients giving THEM the
sexual pleasure denied him? He didn't really know the answers; yet at some
level of his consciousness, he realized that the enjoyment and excitement he was
experiencing at the hands of this man was a capitulation on his part.

Then, as his body shook and his legs trembled, he suddenly heard himself
pleading for the release that only a master could grant. "Master! Please master!
Oh master, please!"

Contemptuous of the slave's pleading and callously disregarding his needs, Sam
roughly withdrew his finger and with a loud, dismissive slap on the ass, he
ordered the slave to "STAND! FACE THE FRONT AND DISPLAY!"

Disappointed and frustrated, the slave stood quietly as his cock quickly
wilted from his unfulfilled desire. Sam now turned his attention to the other
two slaves standing alongside him.

Dealing with them in the same efficient manner, Sam quickly dismissed them -one
to be placed in a holding cage to await collection by his master and the
other-the hairy slave- to be returned to the stripping frame for further
treatment. But first, Sam instructed that the three slaves were to be given food
and water.

To be continued .......................