Date: Wed, 12 Nov 2008 17:28:58 GMT
From: "anonymous4371@juno.com" <anonymous4371@juno.com>
Subject: THE BAZAAR - Chapter 11 (Gay; Authoritarian)

THE BAZAAR

by Bill Smith (anonymous4371@juno.com).

Chapter 11

THE KOREAN INVASION

     Chad was well satisfied with his black boy, P44, and Bill was still
fascinated with the two black mining slaves he had report to his suite as
soon as their work shift was over and they had time to clean themselves
inside and out, shave their bodies, and eat their fill of slave chow.  The
two draft slaves performed in bed just as well as a full blown pleasure
slave - the only difference they were a lot more tired even before
beginning satisfying their owner's sexual needs. It made Bill wonder if the
huge price premium for pleasure slaves was really worth it.

     As an experiment, he arranged to have the two mining slaves relieved
of their normal work shift every other day and, sure enough, he found a big
difference in their performance on the days they weren't worked under the
whips for 12 hours before showing up at his personal suite with the
slaves. Fully rested, he was hard pressed to see any difference at all: the
handsome well-endowed mining slaves he had selected were just as good as
either his former white pleasure slave or Chad's black pleasure slave who
he borrowed from time to time.

     Based on the results of his experiment, he pulled the two slaves off
of mining duty entirely so he could enjoy their fully rested bodies anytime
he wanted them. The two slaves involved were delighted with this turn of
events, always happy to trade getting heavily fucked or swallowing a big
dick down their throats to being worked under a heavy whip down in the
mines.  Besides, they were getting fucked and on their knees sucking
anyway, what with the overseers during the day and the other penned mining
slaves at night.  As far as they were concerned, the only difference was
they were out of a lot of backbreaking work, their backs and rumps weren't
sore and bleeding from the overseer's incessant whips, and, on the down
side, they couldn't fuck other slaves willy-nilly at night like they used
to when in the mining slaves' pen.  Now they were solely on the receiving
end of things, but it wasn't a big deal in that the master still let them
empty their balls now and then.

     Chad was, of course, curious as to Bill's latest bedbucks and borrowed
them to check them out - first one and then the other.  He too found the
chosen mining slaves as good as his own black pleasure slave and shared
Bill's thought as to the worth of paying the premium pleasure slaves
generally brought at market.  It wasn't long until Chad's black slave, P44,
was sold at a huge profit to a small brothel in Adelaide catering to both
women and men unable to afford a slave for themselves.  With the sale, it
was clear P44's life of leisure were over.  From now on, he would be kept
busy around the clock, including utilizing his training in pleasuring a
mistress. P44 took the sale stoically, realizing, as a slave, this would
one of many future sales throughout his lifetime.

     Chad filled the void by selecting one of the mining slaves for his own
use: in his case, a rather short, nicely muscled coal-black boy around 20
years of age, very smooth skinned, an almost feminine face, but with a
sizeable usually erect dick that announced he was all male.  Strangely, the
black slave was from Ireland and had been sentenced to slavery by the Irish
courts for statutory rape of a buxom 15-year-old, the usual sentence for
disturbing the purity of Irish women in a Catholic country.

     That mining slave too proved totally satisfactory in Chad's bed once
he was relieved of his mining duties and was grateful to do anything -
anything at all - demanded of him to get out of the never-ending toil of
the copper mines.

     The problem was that the mines were now short three workers and, no
matter how hard the whips, kicks, and electric prods utilized by the
overseers to keep up the work quotas, it provided well nigh impossible
(which indicated to both Chad and Bill the overseers had been doing a good
job of extracting full output from the mining slaves even before their loss
of three able workers.)

     Bill volunteered to return to The Bazaar in Egypt to buy up another
lot of draft slaves in that they needed to expand production anyway and it
would take a sizeable increase in their stock to do that. Chad would run
the company, get use of all three house slaves (as the three formerly
mining slaves were now known) and make sure everything went well with his
brother's brief absence.  Both agreed that on this buying trip Bill
Williams would take advantage of the discounts involved in buying stock in
100+ lots, that they would pick out a particular good looking, well hung
boy from the lot of draft slaves to be sold off to John Ledgerwood as the
additional pleasure slave he felt he needed with his large family, and
that, this time, it didn't matter what color the slaves were - exposure to
the sun wasn't a problem when the slaves were down in the mines anyway most
of the daytime.  Whatever color was the best value was what color they
would buy as long as they were sturdy, muscular, young, and fully trained
to complete and permanent acceptance of their slave status, i.e., owned
animals.

     Two days later, Bill arrived at The Bazaar's private airport and, as a
previous buyer, was given every priority in overnight accommodations,
luxury meals, and an advance peek at the available merchandise.  Bill was
quickly apprised of The Bazaar's special of the day: Korean draft slaves
arriving by the thousands daily.

     The sales agent explained how the North Korean government, faced with
a cash crisis, set up a program to export one of their biggest problems:
overpopulation.  The new program was designed to annually decrease the
population slightly and, at the same time, bring in a much needed cash
flow. The design was ingenious.

     All Korean males were subject to a mandatory military draft at the age
of 18 anyway.  But now, once drafted, they were first sorted into those
with family connections (parents, siblings, wife, etc.) and those without
any family connections (orphans, deserted and abandoned children, estranged
children, runaways, etc., and, in addition, unmarried).  Taking this latter
proportionately small group, they then again sorted them for good sturdy
body builds, handsome physiques, universally appealing facial features,
sizeable sex organs, evident strong sex drive, and freedom from
disease. This still much smaller group making the final cut soon found
themselves in isolated special training camps that taught them strict
obedience, tolerance of total nudity at all times along with frequent body
handling, responsive sexual performance on command, and a new self-image as
property of the state.  Body conditioning was heavily emphasized each and
every day during the entire training period, similar to that in all other
military programs.  Graduation from this special training (generally taking
about five months due to their formerly free status and allowing time to
make sure they were no inquiries as to their whereabouts), involved
receiving a collar around their neck, shackles about their ankles and
wrists, and a permanent ring through their nose so the boy had no doubt as
to his new position in life as an owned animal ready for sale in the open
market.  Shortly thereafter, the Korean boys found themselves in an
air-freighter headed to The Bazaar which had a special exclusive sales
license with the North Korean government.

     The agent explained that another fresh batch of the latest trained
slaves had just arrived from the North Korean facilities and The Bazaar was
eager to sell them off as soon as possible due to the huge influx which was
straining their holding pen capacities. The Bazaar was offering them in
10-ton lots at a very special price.

     "I never gave a thought to buying Asian stock, but, if it's as good a
buy as you claim, I'll take a look," Bill said.

     Without delay, The Bazaar's sales agent took Bill to one of scores of
huge holding pens, but this one held only the Korean slaves he had been
talking about - all 18 years of age; all well built; all amply equipped;
all reasonably attractive; and all looking like the slaves they now were in
their total nudity, their shackled wrists and ankles, their neck collars,
and most of all, the sturdy ring that had been welded through the septum of
their nose clearly signifying they were now draft animals, no different
than the water buffalos, oxen, and pigs they had back in Korea with rings
through their snouts.

     Bill was impressed.  They were sturdy enough to work the mines, were
only 18-years- old so even under those harsh conditions they could be
worked for 25 or 30 years probably, and a few of them, showing hard even in
the pens, were attractive enough to serve as bedbucks if you wanted.
Besides, Bill reasoned, Asians always had a reputation for sturdiness under
harsh conditions and they were already, obviously, acclimated to their
status as work animals.  He thought their selection was quite clever on the
part of the North Korean government and, no doubt, minimized problems in
their training.

     "Any special discounts if I buy now, saving you the time of preparing
them for auction and taking the risk they won't bring what we might work
out.  I'm talking about a 10-ton lot for that special price, remember."

     The crafty agent got a special commission for selling stock prior to
auction and quickly offered a price Bill found astounding.

     "The North Korean government can't be making much at that price," Bill
exclaimed.

     "But the slaves cost them nothing - only the price of their upkeep and
the cost of their drill sergeants for the five months of rigid training,
Anything they get constitutes good profit as far as they are concerned.
Besides, it's that many less mouths for them to feed and cuts their
unemployment rate significantly."

     "With the usual guarantees?" Bill asked, still dubious of the
incredibly low price.

     "With the usual Bazaar warranties," the agent assured him, "plus all
the paperwork validating they are your legal property."

     "I'll take 15 tons in that case.  We'll have to build a lot more pens
and buy some more hand tools, but at this price, we can afford it.  The
cost of all that slave chow is practically negligible compared to
everything else.  I'm sure my brother will go along with this investment."

     With his signature on a few papers and The Bazaar's bonus presentation
of a free first- class ticket home (provided if you bought over 12 tons of
stock at one time), Bill went back to the provided luxury hotel suite
complete with one of The Bazaar's provided house slaves' who took care of
all customers' personal needs (and that meant everything).  After taking
advantage of the Greek house slave (that came with his suite) relaxing' him
more than a few times, he got a wonderful sleep before his long flight back
the very next day.

     The next morning, right before being chauffeured to The Bazaar's
airport, the naked Greek slave delivered one of the best sucking jobs he
had ever experienced in his life.

     "How did you learn to suck so well, slave?" Bill asked as the slave
was busily cleaning his prick of any residue.

     "Greek boys learn to suck like other boys learn soccer," the slave
chuckled.  It's part of our cultural heritage and we Greeks take great
pride in our abilities."

     Bill was tempted to try to buy the Greek boy on the spot, but then
thought he had spent enough for one trip.  Then he thought of buying up a
boy for the Ledgerwood household and knew the Greek slave would fill the
bill exactly: he was young enough to hold up to the heavy demands of that
household; his manhood was so damn big even Matilda would be happy, and his
Greek handsomeness would no doubt turn on the randy half-breed brothers
who, he suspected, would fuck a sheep if nothing else was available - oh,
he remembered, that's exactly what they did before he provided them with
that blond slave to fuck.

     The hotel manager was used to such requests in that the house slaves'
were seldom in the hotel long - they were there to audition themselves for
potential purchase to the hotel's guests. Consequently, with a few strokes
on the keyboard of his computer, he could quickly cite a price, promptly
lowered it 40% as an incentive, and the sale was concluded in no more time
than it took the limousine to arrive to take Bill Williams to the airport.
The hotel manager assured his guest he could take the slave with him in the
trunk of the car and try to ship him home as personal luggage, or he could
just ship him with the next airlift to Australia which he understood was no
later than 3 PM that very day.

     "I understand there's a 15-ton lot of draft slaves going out at that
time," the hotel manager said, staring at his computer terminal.

     "That's right - I just bought them," Bill told him.  "Make sure the
Greek house slave is in with them - it will all be the same address."

     "No problem," the hotel manager said happily as he charged the slave's
price to the Williams Copper Company's Visa card.  "Have a good trip home
and don't worry.  The Bazaar will take care of all the little details of
getting your stock to their new home safe and secure."

     "I know.  That's why I'm a repeat customer," Bill answered with a
small smile.

     "I suspected.  Generally, this hotel only hosts our priority clients,"
the manager nodded his head as Bill stepped into the provided limousine,
slave-chauffeured of course, by a magnificent naked black animal with heavy
tit rings, genital banding, ear rings, neck collar, and a large nose ring
all gold-plated. It was a showy display and Bill couldn't help tweaking the
gold nose ring as the slave was on his knees beside the open rear door.

     After Bill entered the Mercedes, the huge black slave gently rose from
his knees and, before closing the door, unashamedly asked,

     "Master, would you like a good sucking before we start out?  Or
perhaps to fuck this slave's ass for your pleasure?  Or, if you prefer to
use me outside the car, I could stop at a small private alcove on the way
to the airport and you can use this slave's body to your complete
satisfaction, master."

     When Bill looked a little confused, the slave added, "Many of our
passengers take advantage of this service, master.  No extra charge, of
course."

     Although the Greek slave had just sucked him off less than an hour or
so before, the black animal before him was an opportunity not to be missed,
and free at that.  Bill reached forward and grasped the black slave's huge
organ with one hand while weighing his balls with the other.  Both were as
attractive and appealing as the rest of the slave, especially being
displayed so prominently by the tight genital band he was fitted with.

     "Stop at that alcove, slave," Bill ordered.

     "Yes, master," the black slave smiled broadly, knowing such usage
would assure he got full rations that night.

     "Good choice," the hotel manager yelled from the doorway, obviously
waiting there to hear Bill's answer. "I've never heard a complaint about
that black's servicing.  I've wanted to get him for use here in the hotel,
but the limousine service won't let him go.  If you ever need a new home,
B'Wandi, you know where to come, and then you can forget all about driving
that damn Mercedes all day long" he shouted directly at the slave
chauffeur. "It's your ass we're interested in."

     "Thank you, master, but the limousine company still owns me, master,
and I don't see any signs of selling me off.  But I'll remember your offer,
master, and much appreciate it."

     The Mercedes did stop at the alcove and the black slave's ass was as
good as the rest of him.  The fucking was brief, however, in that Bill
needed to make the plane. But the chauffeur was used to time-limited use of
his body and made it as enjoyable as possible for his user under the time
pressures. Once stopped, he quickly got in the back compartment, sucked his
passenger down to the root until Bill was fully hard, and then presented
his previously lubricated asshole, only pausing to ask if Bill wanted him
on his hands and knees, on his back, or to have the chauffeur lower himself
onto the passenger's prick and do the pumping.  Bill choose the last offer
in that he wanted to play with the slave's huge ringed tits as the
chauffeur lowered his ass and then pumped it up and down on Bill's rigid
cock. Within minutes, Bill Williams was shooting a load well up into the
black slave, and, by then, had the chauffeur's tits hard and swollen in his
hands. The slave was hard and dripping, but never shot, showing the control
he would need to last through a long day of taking people to the airport
from the nearby hotels.

     "Thank you, master," the black slave said as he slid up and off of me,
wiped the cum off of his bottom and thighs so as to not strain the rich
leather of the Mercedes, and then cleaned his passenger's cock completely
with his mouth before continuing the journey.

     When the slave and his passenger were on their way again and Bill had
his clothes back on, he asked the black slave how long he had chauffeured
here.

     "About six years now, master.  Even since I was sold off at The
Bazaar."

     "How about moving to the hotel I was at, like the manager suggested?"

     "Not my decision, master.  But if it happens, it happens.  Slaves
don't determine what happens to them, master. Doesn't matter, things
wouldn't change much either way, except, as the manager said, I wouldn't be
driving anymore."

     "He seemed eager to own you, slave," Bill prodded.

     "Yes, master.  He'd be a good master, but I got a good owner now,
master. Plenty of food at night, a clean place to sleep, and even nice
bathing facilities. I'm not worked more than 12 hours a day, master."

     "Well, you'd get fucked a lot more at the hotel, probably," Bill
noted.

     "I get fucked plenty now, master, so no advantage there," the black
slave chuckled.

     With that, Bill was at the airport and on his way home.

*******

     Not a day later, the 15 tons of fresh North Korean meat arrived via
air freight along with the Greek house slave, all in perfect
condition. Chad looked the 154 draft slaves (15 tons) over and, although
like his brother Bill, had never given much thought to Asian slaves, was
well pleased, especially when he found out the per-unit cost and the
overall excellent condition of the new lot of miners.  While the Koreans
were receiving the Williams Copper Company ownership brand on their butts,
Chad asked if he could fuck the Greek, knowing he had been bought on
consignment' for the Ledgerwood Ranch.

     "Sure, Chad," Bill laughed.  "It's not like he's a virgin or anything.
Shit, I bet he's been fucked as much at that hotel I was at as that blond
pleasure slave I've already sold them."

     "Well, I didn't want them to think I was stealing the goodies," Chad
laughed as he leashed the fine-looking Greek slave by his neck collar and
led him away to his private suite for an afternoon of fun and games.

     This gave Bill a chance to really look over the stock he had just
bought as they were being branded. Out of the 154, a good 16 were knockouts
in the looks department with heavily muscled physiques, prominent pecs and
abs, thick muscular necks tightly collared, handsome smooth faces, alert,
bright dark eyes with long eyelashes, practically hairless bodies before
they were body shaved, and nicely shaped and well-sized genitals that would
look even better if they were circumcised (which could be quickly
arranged).  Bill, and Chad fully agreed with him, that circumcised slaves
not only looked better but solved a chronic cleanliness problem.  Knowing
he didn't need to consult his brother on the matter, he ordered the whole
lot circumcised by the vet (who was on hand anyway to check out the new
stock) while they had them in the preparation center where they also needed
to be recollared with the standard Williams company slave collar, have any
tit or ear rings removed (they had found they tended to get caught in the
mining equipment), and have all of them banded so they displayed well and
the Williams' ownership band was permanently affixed to their genitals to
identify their property along with the collar and the company brand.

     The nose rings would stay.  Both Bill and Chad liked their look of a
controlled animal so well, he asked the vet to drill through the nose
septums of the 97 mining slaves already in the pens and then weld in large
nose rings to match those of the new purchases. That way, they would all
look alike despite their difference in the color of their hide.

     "Bill, it's a nice look, alright, but it's going to take an extra day
to do that and, let me warn you, there's a lot of blood involved and always
the chance of infection," the vet commented. "And, it will cost you $6.50 a
ring installed."

     "You can sleep in the guest suite, Claude, And, while we're talking
price, how much for each dick clipping so we can all get a good look at
those glans whenever we want?" Bill asked.

     "Oh, that will run you $20 each.  Giving you a special price due to
the volume.  Normally twice that.  But 253 foreskins is a lot of cutting.
You want me to save the trimmings?  They're delicious fried up like pork
rind as a special treat.  If you don't want them, I'll keep them if you
don't mind and sell them to a butcher in Perth I know who fries them up
himself as a gourmet item."

     "Save them.  When you're through and get rested up before you start in
on those nose- rings, we'll fry some up and try them out ourselves.  You
just use regular frying oil or do you barbeque them with some sauce.?" Bill
responsed.

     "Never heard of barbequing them, but we could a few that way," Claude
the veterinarian chuckled.  "Nothing ventured, nothing gained."

     Some of the slaves nearby about to be "trimmed" overheard the two
masters talking and looked sick.  Two of them started to vomit.

     "What in the hell is wrong with you?" Bill said, cutting the back open
of one of the vomiting slaves with his razor-tipped training whip.

     The slave screamed as his back started bleeding and a howl of anguish
escaped his throat.

     "Master, you're not.... master... .you're not ... going to.... eat us,
are you master?" the slave gasped out.

     "Just that little bit we'll be trimming off your prick, you bastard,"
Bill replied with another slash of his whip on the slave's bleeding back.
"What's it to you, slave?  Did you want it to eat? "

     "No, master," the slave stammered through his tears.

     "You're just an animal and your owners will eat any damn part of you
they want to," the veterinarian Claude added, equally incensed at the
slave's inquiry.  "How do you think slave chow gets its meat flavoring,
slave?"

     "I don't know... master," the crying slave chocked out, fearful the
whip would land once again on his back.

     "Well, when the whip won't get one more ounce of work out of your worn
out body, slave, they grind you up to flavor the next batch of slave chow,"
the vet answered.  "That way, slave, you'll be happy to know, you'll be of
some good use to your master even when you're dead."

     The slave being addressed cramped over and spewed a full load of vomit
onto the ground, unmindful of the lashing that was sure to follow.

     The veterinarian shook his head in disgust as he turned to Bill
Williams.  "Some of these animals are so naive, Bill, and really haven't
come to grips with the fact they're no different than any other animal
now. You raise a pig to eat, you slaughter him when he's full grown and you
eat him.  No different with a slave although, I admit, we're not into that
yet.  But that's only because slave meat isn't very tasty - sort of like
venison, tough, sinewy, and a little gamey.  You don't see that sort of
naivete in a bred slave, Bill."

     "I didn't know you had tasted slave meat, Claude," Bill asked
fascinated with no trace of ethical concern.

     "Oh, yeah.  I was on a hunting trip a few years back with some friends
of mine from Perth.  Never bagged any of the deer we were trying for, but
one of my friends accidentally shot one of the slaves accompanying us to
set up the camp, cook the meals - stuff like that.  With no other game to
eat, we decided to just spit roast the slave.  Even with a lot of good
barbeque sauce, it was, like I said, mighty gamey and strong as old shoe
leather.  Maybe if we had boiled him or something, but we all agreed it
wasn't worth the effort."

     "Well, I bet a lot of slaves are happy to hear that!" Bill laughed.
"We better get on with getting these animals processed."

     As the newly purchased slaves were given their ID tattoos front and
back, Bill jotted down the numbers of the 16 he had already selected for
possible use in his bed once they were fully outfitted, branded, and had
their IDs in place.  It might be exciting to fuck an animal fitted out with
a nose ring and even greater fun to lead one around with a leash fitted to
that ring. Chad had already expressed his desire to leash one by their nose
ring just for the heck of it.

     By the time the brandings were completed, the IDs tattooed in place,
the excess rings were removed, and the ordered circumcisions were just
beginning, Chad returned with the Greek slave who had been trimmed years
ago apparently and needed only the fitting of a tight genital band, an
appropriate ID tattoo and a new collar to be complete.

     While the vet was on hand for a few days at least, Bill and Chad
thought it best to have ALL the mining slaves circumcised, including the
100 in their first lot who hadn't already been circumcised at one point or
another.  That way, all the slaves would be matched.

     "That's a 100 more than I thought," the vet grinned.  "I'm going to be
rich man before I head for home.  You don't want any local anesthesia, do
you, Bill and Chad?  It'll cost you more if you want it, but you know what
I recommend."

     "Yes," Chad laughed.  "Antibiotic salve for three days, the same as we
use on fresh brands, and skip the anesthesia - the sharp pain teaches
slaves the power an owner has over their bodies and is a lesson long
remembered."

     "God, you have it down by rote!" the vet chuckled.

     "I hope the Ledgerwoods appreciate what you got for them, Bill.  This
one's a real winner."  Chad had to almost yell to make himself heard over
the screams of the first slaves being circumcised as part of their manhood
was cut away at the whim of their owner.  It was a lesson they were truly
just an animal now.

     "Yeah, I know, Chad, although it'll take another round with the slave
before I'm sure," he laughed.  "I'm asking four times what I paid for him
from John Ledgerwood and he's still getting the buy of a lifetime."

     "I kind of feel sorry for the slave in a way, Bill, from what you tell
me goes on in that old ranch house. Five randy bucks and a lusty Aussie
ranch woman - that's a lot of use."

     "You forgot the lonely widower' as John Lederwood puts it," Bill
laughed. "But, remember, they have P56's ass and mouth already at their
disposal and my guess is old P56 is going to end up the exclusive stud of
good old Matilda, which is an occupation in itself the way I hear it, and
the Greek slave will end up doing what Greek boys have done for centuries -
keeping the males in the household happy.  But, even without Matilda
climbing all over him day and night, the Greek going to be might busy, like
you say.  Hum, maybe I should ask for five times what I paid for the
animal."

     "Think it over for a few days.  That will give both of us a chance to
really enjoy the property before you sell him off."

     "I knew you'd think of some scheme where he'd end up in your bed a few
more times at least," Bill laughed.  "But you won't get any argument out of
me.  I'm going to try out some of that new Korean meat eventually, but they
need a while to heal from the circumcisions and branding.  In the interim,
like you say, I've got the Greek to enjoy - that is, if you don't wear him
out completely, Chad," Bill laughed.  "While the other slaves are waiting
to be trimmed, we can get the overseers to put them to work building some
new slave pens.  Then, when it's their turn for the knife, the overseers
can use those healing up.  We should have the lot of them back in the mines
in no more than a few days and, by then, we'll have all the pens we need."

     The newly arrived Greek slave, hearing all this banter about him, took
it in stride.  Long ago he had learned he was nothing more than the animal
they called him and if his new masters wanted to fuck him, that's exactly
what they would do.  If they planned to sell him off to some ranch of
something where five men were going to fuck him, well, that's just the way
it would be.  He was interested, however, in that another slave was
apparently already at that ranch, and he was scheduled for relief.  No
matter what his new owners turned out to be, he was sure this P56 or
whatever the slave was called would soon be his friend.  What slave doesn't
welcome some relief when they're overused?  And what slave doesn't like
another slave around for company?  It gets lonely when you're the only
slave around.

     The overseers, restless when they didn't have some slaves to boss
around, promptly followed their employer's orders and put a gang of
shackled slaves to work putting up new pens.  Fortunately, all the supplies
were already on hand: concrete block, stucco, cement, thick steel grating
for the windows and ventilation, pipes for water and flushing drains,
sturdy securely lockable iron mesh doors, and a inaccessible metal roof to
top them off. The design was simple, easy to maintain, and escape proof.
First, you put up concrete blocks on three sides with steel grating only
the top six inches for light and ventilation.  Then the front "wall" was
made up entirely of steel mesh set into concrete so the penned slaves were
always visible and had no privacy at any time. There were water outlets in
the walls for the water bowls, a couple of shower heads in the ceiling with
faucets outside only the overseers could control, and a poured cement floor
sloping toward a drain so the entire pen could easily be hosed down every
day.  A feeding trough located at shoulder height was welded to the front
steel grates so it was easy to fill with slave chow from outside the bars.
Once finished (which took less than 6 hours to construct and several days
for the cement to dry), some cheap washable rugs, a few blankets, and some
wool rags were scattered around the floor for the slaves to sleep on.
Overhead, cut off by welded steel grating, was a metal roof which sheltered
them from the rain and the worst of the dust storms. The pens were hot as
hell during the day under the metal roofs, but the slaves weren't there
anyway during working hours.  At night, it could get chilly, but the slaves
quickly learned to use each others' bodies to keep themselves warm.  The
slaves crapped and pissed over the drain in the floor (which was flushed
out twice every 24 hours) but the smell was tolerable due to all the
ventilation provided.  Most of the large pens held 30 to 40 slaves easily,
but a few pens (actually cages) were also built into the complex for slaves
awaiting a new buyer, sick slaves, etc.  There was no electricity in the
pens themselves, but the area around the pens was keep lighted all night
long.  A spotlight also shown into each pen at night so the overseers could
see exactly what the slaves were doing at all times.  Consequently, slaves
never experienced darkness for sleep or any privacy whatsoever.

     [Walking by a pen at night, you witnessed some slaves sound asleep
pressed up against another slave's rump or leg or stomach, some sleeping on
a rug, some casually sucking another slave off, some having their ass
pounded by another slave, and some rutting another slave as if they owned
them.  You also occasionally saw a slave shitting over the drain, pissing,
or even masturbating over in a corner somewhere.  Some were even eating
another handful of slave chow as a late night snack in that their kind
owners allowed them all the food they wanted to eat once they were out of
their work shackles and locked up in the pens.  Some, early at night, might
even be talking to each other (allowed only in the pens), but over time,
with nothing new in their lives, there was little to talk about and every
slave knew all there was to know about the other slaves he was penned
with. (Bred slaves typically had common histories and the sameness of their
life histories quickly got boring, even to themselves.)  Most slaves never
learned a common language outside the commands they needed to respond to
avoid the ever present whips; consequently many couldn't communicate with
each other anyway - the North Koreans had a huge advantage here, but the
other slaves viewed them as aloof and cliquish as a result.]

     Surrounding the entire complex of slave pens was a 15' tall
electrified fence topped by razor wire.  No slave had ever come close to
that fence, but Bill and Chad weren't ones to take any chances.  Slaves
were just too expensive to not take good care of them.

     Within a week, all the new pens were completed, all the slaves were
nose ringed, branded, and circumcised, and only two had minor infections.
The copper mine was back in production, only now output was up 260%, even
better than the overseers had hoped.  Bill and Chad were still using their
selected black mining slaves as bed bucks in their suites.  The newly
acquired Greek slave was still awaiting shipment to the Ledgerwood Ranch
and, in the interim, was being fucked frequently by his two new masters,
sucking them off a ordered, as well as fucking the black slaves also in the
suite to amuse both Bill and Chad who loved the interplay of white on black
hides.

******************************************

Writers need encouragement and feedback.  Comments are very much
appreciated.  Bill Smith
(anonymous4371@juno.com).