Date: Sat, 21 Jun 2008 01:05:58 GMT
From: "anonymous4371@juno.com" <anonymous4371@juno.com>
Subject: THE VOLUPTUARY - Part 3 (Gay Authoritarian)

THE VOLUPTUARY

By Bill Smith

CHAPTER 11

SERVICE AND PLEASURE

     When Service and Pleasure had finished lapping up all the spent cum
beneath the fucking bench, their overseer ordered them to the slave
maintenance center to clean themselves inside and out and then report back
for another usage by a party guest.

     Both boys had been owned by Mr. Holgate for over a year now, having
been purchased by him at the same auction. Before their last sale, they had
been caged together in one of the dealer's holding pens and had been
friends every since.

     Both had been freeborn at one time.  Service had been enslaved by the
courts when he was 17 for dealing drugs; Pleasure had been seized by the
Mafia when he was 15 when his father was unable to pay off a huge gambling
debt and had put his son up for collateral.

     Following his enslavement, Service was a graduate of his county's
slave training center, a six-month program that produced slaves so
compliant they were actually 'money- back guaranteed' for a year following
their training. He was first sold to a middle-aged divorcee desirous of a
very young bed buck at her ready disposal and good looking enough to show
off to her friends at every opportunity.  Service fitted the bill fine,
being unusually heavy hung with lots of hormones raging through him, having
a gorgeous body that would impress all her friends, and now trained to
total obedience so discipline wasn't a problem.  After two years in her bed
and collar leashed stark nude out in public the rest of the time, his
mistress bored of him and sold him to a gay friend actually younger than he
was.  Now he was the one getting fucked all the time instead of the other
way around, but being displayed in public at the end of a leash didn't
change one iota except now it was primarily men fondling his organs and
stroking his tits instead of women.  But, again, his novelty wore out two
years later when his master spotted a black slave even heavier hung that
turned him on ever more with his coal black hide and deep black eyes. The
black was being marketed by a local dealer, so Service found himself traded
in on the black, again caged in a holding cell.  This time, even before the
dealer's weekly auction, he was bought by a man in his sixties looking for
a nice-looking boy to amuse himself with in the evenings and who could also
keep the house clean, do the laundry, and do all the yard work.  For his
age, the man was surprisingly libidinous and Service found himself being
fucked as much as when he was owned by the boy younger than himself. But he
wasn't paraded around as a sexual display object and he actually enjoyed
doing the household chores he was assigned during the day.  Unfortunately,
the old man had a fatal heart attack one night while fucking him, and his
relatives, none of whom were into owning slaves that weren't clearly just
draft animals, took him to a dealer the very next day as simply one of the
estate's assets to be disposed of.  It was in the holding pen of that
dealer that he had met his friend Pleasure.

     Pleasure's life prior to meeting Service hadn't been quite so
mundane. When the Mafia took him to cover his dad's gambling losses, he was
shipped to their own slave training facility in Miami where training was
harsh, no nonsense, and, to those newly enslaved like Pleasure, brutal.
Within a month, Pleasure was completely broken, trembling whenever anyone
in authority even got near him, and actually quaking in fear when an
trainer picked up a whip or fingered their electric prod. It took five more
months before the Mafia trainers were completely confident in his training,
however.  By this time, he had complete control of his bodily responses (no
more trembling or quaking unless commanded to do so), was compliant to any
and all commands without hesitation, and actually welcomed sexual use of
his body, whether it be by a master or mistress. His body had been molded
by proper diet and exercise to perfection and he now displayed beautifully.
Any embarrassment about displaying himself nude in public or having total
strangers fondle him was long gone, probably never to return.  The young
slave had learned months ago shame, humiliation, and embarrassment were
luxuries no slave could afford. Nor did he harbor any thoughts he would be
anything but a slave, a purchased property, a bought animal, from now
on. The Mafia was noted for its thorough lifelong training of slaves and
Pleasure was a perfect example of how good they were in this area. All by
itself, the Mafia's brand of ownership on his butt raised his value 30% he
had been told by the dealer currently caging him. Such was their reputation
in training their properties.  When a local Mafia chieftain visited the
dealer to look over some stock, he expressed interest in the young white
boy.  The dealer simply gave the boy to the chieftain in that he owned him
some favors anyway.  That don, his three sons, and his wife all used the
new slave heavily.  In fact, he was asked to do little (and didn't have
time to anyway) but service them sexually.  But this alone was a full-time
job: on the average he got fucked about five times a day, fucked the old
lady each morning and afternoon, and sucked their grandkids off inbetween,
male and female. In addition, the old man liked his cocktail every
afternoon which meant he had to milk a full load out of his balls into the
man's glass of Tuscany wine every afternoon, while the old don watched
carefully through semi-closed eyes at his panting, muscle-tensed slaveboy
producing yet another batch of "boy cream" as the old man called it.

     But all that changed about two years later when the don gave him to an
associate out in California who had admired him on a visit to the don's
Florida mansion. Pleasure was the cement that bonded a new drug deal the
two had hatched up in shipping Florida drugs to California. Strangely, his
new owner wasn't into using boys himself, but always needed new slave boys
for a brothel he ran locally which catered to both men and women, and where
the profits were enormous, rivaling those made in selling various drugs.
Pleasure found himself housed in a large, pleasant facility that was
designed around the business at hand - providing sex efficiently, quickly,
and with wide choice for its customers.  Pleasure proved to be a popular
addition, much to the delight of his new owner, and was kept as busy as he
had been back with the old don.  The only difference, really, was this time
he was used by a much wider assortment of people who were paying large fees
for his use and expected full value for their hard earned money. But his
owner was wise in use of slaves and limited their customer load so his
slaves would satisfy the customers fully without wearing their bodies out
prematurely.  Pleasure found he generally got fucked about three times a
day, had to suck off no more than five or so men and lick out one or two
women, and usually only had to fuck one or two customers a day, usually
women but occasionally a man into utilizing studs for their pleasure.
Other than three hours of mandatory exercises a day in the brothel's
well-equipped gym to keep his body in perfect shape, that's all he did,
other than enjoy plenty of time for sleep and eating the prescribed foods,
mainly slave chow, that his owner controlled to make sure he didn't get an
ounce of fat on his beautiful body.

     But that idyllic life ended when his owner send him to a local dealer
for resale - he only kept boys in stock for a maximum of two years to
ensure freshness for his customers. It was in that dealer's holding cells
that he met Service, caged in the same pen with him.  They hit it off right
away and were placed back to back in the auction line.  Fortunately, one of
Mr. Holgate's agents, on the lookout for handsome well-hung whites in their
early twenties, bought both of them and they had been in Mr. Holgate's
slave pens ever since, 'entertaining' Mr. Holgate's guests under the
constant supervision of one of his overseers who made sure they towed the
line when it came to providing total and complete satisfaction to anyone
wanting to use them.

THE VOLUPTUARY

By Bill Smith

CHAPTER 12

EXPLORING THE HOLGATE BACK ROOMS

     Benjamin and Jeremy could barely hide their excitement as they inched
past numerous other guests toward the doors leading to the "back rooms" the
huge Asian by the gong had mentioned. They had no idea of what the words
"unusual" and "exotic" meant to a true connoisseur of slave flesh such as
Mr. Holgate.  No sooner than they had entered the first "back room" than
they got their answer.

     On the right, chained in place atop pedestals about 18" off the
ground, were some young male slaves of every color who were placed with
their legs wide apart, their hands shackled behind their backs, their
pelvises and chests thrust out provocatively, and with big smiles of
invitation on their faces.  What made them novel was the size of their
sexual organs: each had huge balls hanging between their legs and penises
so big around and so long (some hung clear down to their knees when
flaccid) few guests knew such aberrations occurred in humans, slave or
not. A slave handler, provided by Mr. Holgate, explained what we were
witnessing.

     "These slaves are extremely rare, hard to find at any price, and all
share the unique trait of priapism, the medical term for a genetic trait
which leads to gigantic sexual organs.  They're nice to look at," the
overseer chuckled, "but hardly practical.  They're way too big to breed -
they'd tear up any breeding wench you put them with; and too big to go up
another slave's ass without killing that poor slave so they're no good for
exhibitions; so about all you can use them for are as milk studs, a death
sentence for some out-of-control rogue slave, or for exhibit like we have
them here.  Feel free to stroke and squeeze them any way you want - you're
not likely to have that opportunity again outside this room - and, of
course, you can milk one if you want.  You'll find no objection on their
part - being milked is about the only way they ever get off.  Not a boy in
the bunch has ever fucked another human, man or woman, free or
slave. They're all virgins in that area as far as we know, although, I
understand, a few of them have been ordered to cover a horse or a cow for
the amusement of some previous owners.

     Well, I take that back!  One of them, according to what he tells us,
fucked another male slave one time when his owner wanted to terminate some
poor slave sentenced to a painful death for refusing an order from his
mistress.  But it was justified - the story goes that slave refused to stud
one of his mistress' breeding slaves one day so you can't say his death
wasn't warranted even though that breeding slave, it turns out, was his
mother. The mother and son had been enslaved at the same time and bought by
the same mistress at a local dealer in that she wanted a young stud and a
wench with a few pups left in her.  She didn't even know the two slaves
knew each other, but, I can't see where that would make any difference
anyway.  Slaves should do what they're told and, once you're a slave, you
don't have family anymore, no matter how you grew up.  Everyone knows that!
But the story ends up all right.  Before he was terminated, the slave's
sperm was extracted from him and injected into the breeding wench until she
took. Nine months later she birthed a pup that was her son and grandson,
you might say. Of course," the handler chuckled, "the pup wasn't anything
but a slave so all that other stuff is just comical.  Hell, if we traced
some of these bred slaves bloodlines, no telling what interesting stories
could emerge - fathers put to their daughters, brothers with their sisters,
all sorts of things.  Doesn't matter as long as the end product is sound
and likely to bring top dollar. You can't get too fussy when you're
selectively breeding toward a good product."

     "Which one of you animals fucked another slave to death?" Jeremy asked
the slaves they were looking at.

     The slave with the biggest organ of all nodded his head.

     "Why doesn't he just answer?" Jeremy asked the handler.

     "Can't, master.  He's been muted.  Must have irritated some owner down
the line with a bunch of silly babble."

     "Searing slave's vocal chords isn't utilized enough in my opinion,"
the woman standing next to Jeremy said.  "There's little need for a slave
to talk anyway."

     Jeremy tentatively reached out and stroked the mute's mammoth organ
which quickly began to harden in his hand.  It was so big as it lengthened
in his hand it almost frightened Jeremy and he withdrew his hand when the
thing started to drip on him. Indeed, it seemed like an animal unto itself,
something divorced from the handsome slave it was attached to.

     "I almost feel sorry for the animal," Benjamin said.  "He's obviously
a freak, sold as a freak, and can't fuck anything other than an animal a
lot bigger than slaves.  His only hope is to get someone to milk him and
you don't even want to do that, apparently. Well, I'm not interested in
milking that monstrosity either, so let's move on.  God know what else is
in this room is these slaves are any example."

     Neither Benjamin or Jeremy noticed the tears streaming down the face
of the handsome slave they had aroused and then abandoned so abruptly.
Even if they had noticed, they could have cared less - it was just a slave
after all.  The slave was crying in utter frustration - once again he had
been aroused without relief; once again he had been labeled a freak; and
once again he had been reminded he could only fuck animals bigger than
slaves.  The slave could only hope that another viewer would be good enough
to milk him before the evening was over. He thrust his gigantic organ out
further hoping some master's or mistress' hand would wrap around it and
stroke him to a full discharge.  It would take just a few strokes he was
sure as the need to unload simply consumed him and he looked beseechingly
at some guests approaching him.

      Fortunately, the woman standing next to Jeremy who thought all slaves
should be muted also thought slaves should be milked regularly "to keep
their balls busy." Grabbing an empty drink cup from a nearby waiter, she
stroked the slave until he quickly practically filled the entire cup with
steaming thick 'slave cream' as the mistress called it. Without hesitation,
she tipped the cup and drank its contents down in one gulp. Patting the
slave's balls with one hand as she put the cup back on a tray with the
other hand.

     "Delicious," she announced, " and plenty of it, slave.  Maybe you'll
get lucky and someone will buy you as a milk stud since that's about all
you're good for hung like that."

     Since the slave couldn't respond vocally, he nodded his head in
appreciation.

     Jeremy and Benjamin moved on to the next section which featured female
slaves chained to pedestals, all fully body shaved, all fully mature and
voluptuous, but each a different color.  There were bodies as black as
coal, every conceivable shade of brown, olive- skinned, various shades of
yellow tints, a few with reddish tints to their oiled hides, whites well
tanned, and whites chalky blue.  They had been purchased in Africa, India,
China, Central America, Mexico, Scandinavia, and Ireland according to the
signs at the bottom of their pedestals.  Hanging over their heads was a
huge banner: "TRY OUT ALL THE COLORS IF YOU WANT - JUST NOTIFY THE OVERSEER
FOR A ROOM UPSTAIRS."  Indeed, a few pedestals were empty at the time, the
shackles lying their awaiting the slaves return from being used in an
upstairs bedroom by one guest or another. As Benjamin and Jeremy looked
them over, one of the slaves was being returned by her user and was being
re-shackled to her pedestal by the room overseer.

     "How was she?" Benjamin asked the user, now beginning to look at some
other of the female slaves exhibited.

     "Well trained and most cooperative," the mistress, an older women well
into her 50s, replied. "Of course, I don't know about her abilities to
please a master," she added.  She continued to look over another female
slave rather casually before announcing to no one in particular, "I think
I'd enjoy a nice young stud next," and quickly started to move to another
section where such things were available.

     "Sounds good," Jeremy replied to her encouragingly, and followed her
to the next section which was identical to the display of the female slaves
but instead featured young, extremely well-built male slaves of every
conceivable color on pedestals.  All were handsome to a fault and all were
heavy hung - most seemed to be perpetually erect as they were displayed in
their entirety. The woman picked out a relatively short South American
mestizo- Indian, judging from the reddish tint to his hide, who was
strikingly handsome, especially with the inviting smile on his face and his
masculine physique, and quickly had the overseer unchain him for her usage
upstairs.  Jeremy stroked the shaft of a pretty Asian boy briefly while
Benjamin massaged the balls of a huge black - so black he looked blue under
the strong lights. But neither were in the mood to go much further than
just play around at the moment, and after toying with the ringed tits of a
well-muscled blond from Sweden and sticking their finger up the ass of a
beautiful mulatto boy from America, they wandered on to another section of
the room.  But these boys on display were a hit with the guests - half of
the pedestals were empty at any given time, meaning these slaves were
getting a lot of action tonight.

     "Mr. Holgate will be pleased these boys of many colors are so
popular," Jeremy laughed.

     "Lord knows he or his agents must go to a lot of trouble to get such
variety," Benjamin added in admiration for his host.

     The section in the back of the room was stocked with the unusual and
exotic.  First was a true hermaphrodite, a creature with both the heavy
rounded breasts and curvaceous hips of a woman but also the large penis and
balls of a man. To prove the validity of the creatures' bisexuality, the
tits were leaking droplets of milk from a recent handling and the swollen
prick was leaking precum from that same handling. Despite the oddness, the
creature was nice looking with good facial features and a beauteous smile.

     "That banner overhead is dead on," Jeremy said as he studied the huge
banner stating WHEN YOU CAN'T MAKE UP YOUR MIND. "That's a clever banner -
some people do have trouble deciding on which gender turns them on or which
color and what not. With these combo's you don't need to choose one or the
other."

     Benjamin laughed at Jeremy's comment as he squeezed one of the leaking
tits, got a squirt on his finger, and lifted it to his lips for a taste.
"Good!" he announced.  "Just like mother's milk."

     "I bet Mr. Holgate paid plenty for this," Jeremy added as he hefted
the creature's balls and rolled them around in his hand as the slave softly
moaned.

     Next was a male midget equipped with a full-sized man's prick and
musculature; a full-sized splotched male mulatto slave with a patchwork
hide resembling a Pinto horse and hung as well as any horse; a female slave
with three tits; a hugely hung male with four balls; a eunuch whose balls
had been removed; and a full eunuch where his balls and his prick had been
sliced off.  The second eunuch had been "fixed" after puberty so he still
had a nice masculine body outside his genitals, while the eunuch allowed to
keep his prick was obviously cut prior to puberty - his prick was small and
undeveloped and his body was as soft and rounded as any female.

     "Yes," Benjamin said as he studied the full display.  "When you can't
make up your mind. Mr. Holgate has thought of everything," he laughed as
studied the scars on the fully castrated slave where his manhood had been
removed. "They say fucking a eunuch is better than anything else.  I can't
see why, but that's what people say.  You ever fucked one, Jeremy?"

     "Never had one handy to fuck," Jeremy chuckled.  "You want to add to
our repertoire with this one?  I will say he's one damn fine looking piece
of meat, shorn or not."

     "This may be our only chance," Benjamin said.  "Let's go for it," and
he signaled the room overseer for a collar leash.

     Unshackled and leashed, the overseer said he would check to see which
rooms upstairs were currently available.

     "Don't bother," Benjamin said.  "We'll just use one of the benches
over there by the wall."

     With that, the cut slave was strapped down to a nearby fucking bench
by both his wrists and ankles and both masters took their time experiencing
their first taking of a eunuch, first Benjamin and then Jeremy. When
finished, the slave was covered in sweat and cum was leaking out of his
hole rather profusely.

     "Well?" Benjamin said as soon as Jeremy had withdrawn from the slave's
well stretched hole.

     "It was good alright, but, Benjamin, in my opinion, it's not the best
ass I've ever had.  I don't know if this slave is as good as most eunuchs,
but ...no... he wasn't the best fuck I've ever had.  Now you take that
black boy I fucked earlier... now, that was ....."

     "I agree with you Jeremy," Benjamin interrupted.  "If this boy's
representative, I think eunuchs are overrated."

     "Well, they're mainly sold to women, I understand, Benjamin.  They do
have one big advantage: they can't knock their mistress up and they can't
breed new slave pups if you aren't interesting in slave breeding. So I can
see the market for them. But just to have one around to fuck, I'll take a
big stud anytime."

     "I would expect nothing less from a man who judges most slaves are the
basis of how hung they are," Benjamin laughed as he motioned for the room
overseer to unstrap the eunuch.  As the overseer released the slave, the
eunuch remembered to thank his users as the overseer began to wipe the
sweat off his body and the spent cum off his upper legs before returning
him to the pedestal on which he was being displayed.

     "Seen enough of all this, Benjamin?" Jeremy asked.

     "Yeah, it reminds me of a zoo," Benjamin answered. "Me? I'm too
straight and conservative for all this. But I will go with you to the S&M
section if you want.  It's not my thing, but whatever turns you on.  I
heard they have some boys back there who have all four limbs amputated,
have more scars than skin, and where you can burn them with hot pokers if
you want."

     "Forget it.  I'm not into destroying property just for the fun of it.
I"m just not that wealthy, Benjamin.  Money is too hard to come by in my
case to just waste it."

     "Well, a few are really into it," Benjamin responded.

     "Each to their own, Benjamin.  That's why slaves are such a neat
thing.  Something for everyone."

THE VOLUPTUARY

By Bill Smith

CHAPTER 13

MR. HOLGATE'S LOTTERY

     With that, the two young masters started back to the main room just as
the huge gong sounded once again followed by the beating of drums and a
chorus of trumpets.  Hurrying to the sounds, Jeremy and Benjamin arrived
just in time to see the grand entrance of their host, Mr. David Hickam
Holgate III, aloft a huge golden litter so heavy it took 16 unusually big
beautifully muscled fully naked Polynesian slaves to carry it.

     "Welcome, my friends," Mr. Holgate announced as he threw out small
plastic tokens, each with a unique number on them.  "Gather up these tokens
and save them - we'll have a drawing in a few minutes.  You may be one of
the lucky winners of a little remembrance of our evening together."

     Jeremy and Benjamin, like the other guests assembled to see the
phenomenal litter and its glorious bearers, scrambled to gather up as many
of the scattered tokens as they could.  Meanwhile, the huge litter
proceeded to the very center of the room, right in front of the gong, and
halted.  But instead of lowering the litter as the guests expected, the
litter remained aloft the straining muscles of the bearers who didn't move
other than spreading their legs wide apart and thrusting their pelvises
forward.

     "We'll keep the boys in tension for your enjoyment," Mr. Holgate
explained, "and this way we can easily see each other," as if keeping the
slaves under the heavy load was insignificant. "Look them over and fondle
them all you want," our host added.  "They've positioned themselves for
your convenience and would be especially grateful if you milked a load out
of them - they haven't been allowed to unload for over three weeks now
and," he winked, "are greatly in need of your attention."

     The bearers did warrant attention if any slaves ever did.  They were
all the same height, all of the same heavily muscled build, all the same
rich brown cocoa color, all had jet black eyes and hair, all had hairless
well oiled bodies below their eyebrows, all were neatly circumcised, and
all were fully banded around their large genitals, had rings through both
their tits, both ears, and the septum of their nose, and all were collared
with a very tall, tight- fitting heavy collar. Best of all, all had
exceptionally well developed pecs and abs, taut rounded butts, and very
long and thick penises protruding far out from their trunk. As they stood
holding the heavy load, their bodies glistened with sweat.

     As the guests swarmed around the bearers to fondle their attractive
bodies, Mr.  Holgate explained their origin.

     "This whole herd is from a single island in the South Pacific -
Vanuatu - and all are from a single slave tribe so they're genetically
related as you probably guessed from their unique similarity one to the
other. A master tribe there breeds these boys for export and I was lucky
enough to get this herd all the same age - about their total batch of male
breeds for that year.  Cost me dearly, but I'm sure you'll agree I didn't
waste my money. I bought them just as you see them here - the collars, the
body rings, the bands, circumcised, and with all their body hair
permanently removed. And all guaranteed to be good baby makers if I ever
want to breed them, and good shooters if I simply want a milk herd.  Go
ahead, don't be shy.  These boys are looking forward to being milked."

     With that, the guests quickly pocketed their tokens and picked the
nearest bearer to milk as they fondled the rest of the slave's body.
Within minutes, the first bearer shot a huge load, then another, then
another, and soon the floor beneath them was coated with sticky white cum
and the aroma of sex sweat and fresh cum scented the room.

     "Looks like the bearers are going to have to be careful to not slide
on all that cum when we leave," Mr. Holgate laughed from his perch above
the shoulders of his guests. "But you can see they're grateful for your
attention.  Although I'm sure they'd like to, they can't thank you
themselves.  The master tribe selling them to me mutes all their market
slaves routinely."

     The bearers grunted their thanks as if by cue and again thrust their
organs out in invitation for further use.

     "See, they're ready for another round," Mr. Holgate laughed.  "Go
ahead, pumping out a second load is good for them, especially after such a
long wait."  Again the slaves grunted in acquiescence.  Again, some of the
guests pumping them off before couldn't resist a second round and those
guests who hadn't had a chance to feel the beautiful bodies rushed in to
fondle and stroke the appealing flesh offered them.  Within minutes,
another spewing coated the floor beneath the sweating bearers and was all
over the hands of some guests who delighted in licking hot cum off their
fingers. Still the bearers bore the heavy load with Mr.  Holgate
comfortably seated above them.

     As the slaves beneath him panted in relief, Mr. Holgate signaled for
the gong to sound again, pulling a list out from a side pocket on the
litter.

     "Now, get those tokens out of front of you," he announced. "It's time
to have a little lottery for a few goodies to take home as remembrances. If
you don't get any of the big prizes, everyone will get a set of Holgate
accessories for your favorite slave back home or even the attendant you
brought with you perhaps.  That set includes a nice tall silver slave
collar, a set of 2" gold-plated tit rings, a gold-plated 2" genital band,
and a 4' chromium-link slave leash you can fasten to a slave's collar, his
tit, his nose, or his balls, dependent on his body fittings.  Just a little
something to remember this event.  But, I do have three big prizes for the
lottery this evening.

     Opening his list, he called out "Number 118.  Whose got #118?"

     A woman responded delightedly, "That's me," waving the winning token
in her hand.

     "Oh, Deloris, you lucky bitch," Mr. Holgate laughed.  "You've just won
something you can really use. A coal-black stud from Nigeria," as a black
male slave came prancing into the room stark naked except for his genital
band and the large ring through his nose.  His body was smooth and well
oiled so it gleamed under the strong spotlights aimed at his presentation.
The young handsome slave was all man and his large organ was appropriately
fully erect for one being given away as a stud. "He's all yours, complete
with notarized ownership papers, Deloris. Just don't wear him out
completely when you get him home," he joked.

     "What makes you think I'll wait until I get home?" Deloris shot back,
taking the ownership papers from the gift slave's hand and then reaching
down to stroke the huge organ between his wide spaced legs. The black slave
smiled as she began stoking him, thrusting himself further into her hand as
a slave's signal of their new owner's right to handle them.  "But thanks,
David.  It's the perfect gift for a lonely old lady."  She led her prize
over the side of the room where she could more thoroughly examine the new
property.

     Mr. Holgate looked down for the next number on his list.  "Only two
more," he teased.  "The next winner is #88. Who's got 88?"

     No one spoke up at first, but then one of those busily stroking one of
the bearers quickly looked down in the hand not busy and noticed a token
with an 88 on it.

     "Hey, that's me," the middle aged man said just as the bearer he was
stroking shot off in his hand, his arm, and over the front of him since he
hadn't turned to miss it in his excitement of winning the lottery.  Despite
the cum all over him, he turned to see the next prize stumble into the room
- an adolescent blond boy fully mature and exceptionally good looking who
was heavily shackled.  This slave too was totally naked, well hung, well
built, and looked bewildered.  Strangely, he had not been body shaved,
fitted with any bands or rings outside of his collar, and looked like he
had just been enslaved.

     "He's fresh from juvenile court, Juan," Mr. Holgate explained.  He's
not had a lick of training, hasn't even been processed yet, and, as far as
we know, is still a virgin, although you never really know of course with
one as far along as this slave.  But he'll be great fun to train to his new
duties, to familiarize with his new status in this world, and, if it's
true, break in sexually.  There's nothing like a fresh virgin, Juan, as you
probably know by now."

     "You know, David, I've never had a virgin," Juan exclaimed.  "And I've
always wanted to buy one and try it out."

     "Well, now you've got one.  But, I warn you, this boy is about as wild
as they get and will need to be carefully broken to his new status in life.
Those shackles aren't on him just for show.  You keep them on until you get
him securely caged back at your own house.  After that, it's your problem,
not mine," Mr. Holgate counseled.

     "They say the best way is just rape the little bastard to start with
and then start training him in the fine arts," Juan said.  "What do you
think, David?"

     "Well, you've got to start somewhere, but my trainers tell me its best
to get them all excited and keep them that way for a good three days and
then masturbate them as you're enjoying your first entry into their tight
little hole.  That way, they associate getting fucked with sexual pleasure
and the lesson sticks with them.  I don't know, but that's what my own
trainers do when we get an inexperienced virgin on our hands and we want to
up their resale value."

     "Sounds sensible, David," Juan said.  "I just don't know if I can
stimulate the boy for three days without fucking him along the way.  But
I'll try," he laughed.  "What if he pops off when you're stimulating him?"

     "Don't worry.  Just so he's all hot and bothered when you do fuck
him," David replied.

     With that, Juan took the shackled slave by the leash on his neck
collar and jerked him over to one side of the room to start the stimulation
part of the training while profusely thanking the host for the "thoughtful
and much appreciated gift" reminding him again he'd "never had a virgin
before."

     Again, Mr Holgate looked down at his list.  "Well, here's the last
lottery prize.  Last, but not least, I hope," he said as he announced the
last winning number, #3.

     Instantly, there was a whoop of joy from a guest no more than 18 or
so.

     "Yep Hee," the boy shouted.  "I'm #3."

     A slave in his late 20s came running into the room looking expectantly
for his new owner.  When he saw the boy holding the #3 token in his hand,
he tried to hide his disappointment.  He had been hoping to be won by some
old man or woman whose demands on his body would be easy to handle..  This
boy, frisky as all get-out, looked like he would use him around the clock,
was young enough to never wind down, and probably had many friends he would
loan his new slave out to on a moment's whim.  He would probably be used
long and heavy until the boy got bored with a full grown mature man and
traded him in on a young female or a boy even younger than him.

     "Sebastian, you need the guidance of an older slave around,"
Mr. Holgate advised.  "This animal is beautifully trained for any and all
tastes, is very experienced with both genders, and still retains enough
vigor to satisfy most any mistress or master. When you tire of him, he'll
bring a good price at market or you may want to sell him directly to a stud
farm.  I've had several breeding farms approach me about this slave as a
good potential stud.  I can see why with those attractive body features,
his good musculature, and what he's carrying between his legs."

     "Mr. Holgate," the young master said enthusiastically, "I can't thank
you enough.  I've always wanted a good stud about his age - makes me feel
real good to have control over a male slave a lot older than I am - and,
frankly, Mr. Holgate, I like fucking a mature man more than anything."

     "Well, most boys your age share those feelings.  That's why I'm glad
you won this animal.  But, remember, when you tire of him - and you will,
my boy - think about selling him to a stud farm.  You'll get top dollar for
him that way, unless you've worn him completely out, you little rascal," he
laughed.

     "And you, slave," Mr. Holgate glared at his latest gift animal, "you
make sure you make this boy happier than he's even been no matter what he
asks you to do.  That's what you're trained for and that is your God-given
destiny as you should know by now."

     "Yes, master," the gift slave bowed his head in response.  "This slave
will make the new master happier than he's ever been," he promised his last
owner.

     "Well, that's it," Mr. Holgate announced.  "Stay as long as like,
enjoy anything in the house that is appealing to you - all this slave meat
is here for your pleasure. Just don't steal the silverware or good china,"
he laughed as he clapped his hands, the gong sounded once again, and the 18
heavily muscled slaves, now drained but still in heavy tension, gracefully
turned the litter around and disappeared into another part of the mansion,
probably Mr.  Holgate's personal quarters.  As the litter left the room,
all the guests broke into spontaneous and highly appreciative applause,
hoping against hope they would be invited to the next party, whenever it
was scheduled.  If not, they would talk about this one the rest of their
lives.  If so, how on earth could he top this?

     The three slave gifts were already in use the minute the litter was
gone.  The adolescent blond virgin slave was on his knees sucking his new
middle-aged master off; the huge black slave was fucking his new mistress
to her exact specifications; and the third slave in his late 20s was on his
hands and knees being vigorously fucked by his new teenage master.  All
three slaves were being used right in front of all the other guests, who
stood around commenting on the slave's various features and what great
prizes they were for a lottery giveaway.

THE VOLUPTUARY

By Bill Smith

CHAPTER 14

            PREPARATIONS FOR THE NEXT WINGATE PARTY

     The squad of Holgate stewards assembled around their master for
instructions. Each had begun their service to Master Holgate as a regular
house slave.  As they perfected their skills in pleasing their new master
and his numerous guests, they were slowly 'promoted,' first to handlers of
Holgate slave stock, then to overseers, and, as age, experience within
slavery, expertise of skills required, and loyalty to their master
accumulated, finally to stewards, a most coveted position for any slave
within the Holgate household.  A Holgate steward acted "in lieu of the
master," watching out for his master's best interests at all times, making
sure his master's property performed up to full potential at all times,
maintained or enhanced its value, and was as problem-free as possible. Such
responsibility required vigilance, unwavering loyalty to his master's best
interests, and an intellect that was "slave- proof," i.e., they could not
under any circumstances be "conned" or manipulated by any slave under their
jurisdiction.

     "The next party will be a week from Saturday.  I have invited, as
usual, about 100 guests, all of whom will be expecting me to outdo anything
I've done up to this point, especially since this party will be their
introduction to my new home.  I've decided this party will have a Roman
theme - something like a well-heeled Roman knight of around 150 A.D.  might
have put on to assure his social standing.  I've picked out 10 old movies
based on some director's concept of the old Roman Empire and I want you to
study them in preparation for the banquet with emphasis on the attitudes
toward slaves, the variety of slaves, and the chores they were put to.  Of
course, being Hollywood movies, they're very puritanical, designed
primarily for children's consumption, and don't begin to portray life as it
ready was.  In the movies, the slaves are often covered; they're seldom
collared or tit ringed, and only occasionally utilized for sex."

     The stewards broke out in laughter at this last remark in that it was
impossible to imagine any world, let alone one as licentious as the Roman
Empire, not using slaves for all types of sexual satisfaction.  In the
world they knew, that was the main function of many slaves, especially
those good looking and well built.

     "Of course, the Romans didn't have all this electronic gadgetry and I
want our new system shown off at its best.  All 650 slaves, including
yourselves, should be on view on a TV screen easily seen by all the guests
with photos of every slave's front, side, and back, both flaccid and fully
erect, and with all of that property's statistics listed to one side of
each slave's photo: body measurements, ethnic origins, approximate age,
time in slavery, length of training, and any special talents that slave
possesses. When a guest views that TV image and decides he or she would
like to look that slave over personally and possibly use it, the system
should summon the slave instantly from his cage or inform the guest that
the particular slave is "in use" and approximately when the slave will be
available.  Program the system so that if the slave is 'in use,' it will
ask the guest if he wants to be placed on a waiting list for the slave and
how many guests' requests are stacked up ahead of him along with a cancel
button if the guest isn't interested in waiting."

     One of the stewards most responsible for the electronic system looked
down at his feet to hide the tears of shame spilling out of his eyes
suddenly.  Somehow, the idea of people like himself being electronically
"stacked" for sequential fucking by a series of guests who were turned on
by their bodies reduced the master's properties to little more than pieces
of meat - meat referred to by their owner as "it" and that could be
summoned and then sexually used by the mere push of a button, no matter
what the slave himself thought about it one way or the other.  The steward
remembered all the slaves he had dealt with over the years who had bruised
and bleeding asses and tits, chafed pricks, muscles so sore they could
barely walk, cum dribbling down their legs, and jaws so stretched they
could barely move their mouths - all because some guest or another wanted
to enjoy their body right then and there. He then thought of the hours and
hours of forced exercise day after day to keep those bodies in perfect
shape that would appeal to the guests; the rigid diet the slaves were
forced to adhere to in order to keep their bodies in top shape, and the
long preparations of body shaving, oiling, and enemas necessary to keep
them fresh-looking and clean at all times.  He even thought of how he had
to periodically cull the slave stock and sell off those who were beginning
to show a few tell-tale signs of aging or overuse - auctioned off to
destinies he didn't even want to think about: life under a constant whip
building roads, mining coal or copper, constructing buildings, working the
assembly lines, studding crops of new slaves (or, for females, birthing
them), used as test subjects for new drugs, or even, toward the end of
their productivity, being ground up into animal feed (including, rumor
persisted, the most common animal of all, slaves). But, just as quickly,
the steward pulled himself out of the dangerous luxury of a mental reverie
and again paid full attention to his owner's instructions.

     "First, instead of the usual buffet, I want a sit-down dinner, now
that, at last, I have the facilities to easily seat at least 150 for a
formal affair. My chef has worked out the menu and I have decided to have
one waiter assigned to each guest as well as the usual compliment of
serving slaves.  The waiters will stand in back of and to the right side of
each guest, the distance being determined by the guests' ease in fondling
the waiter's genitals, which should be uniformly ringed for maximum
protrusiveness and ease of fondling. Those 100 waiters should all be males
between 5'10" and 6', all white, totally body shaved except for their head
hair, and deprived of all sexual outlets for 10 days prior to the event so
they are erect and eager to be milked by the guests.  In addition, I want
them all deeply butt-plugged at the time they are serving to insure full
erections at all times and so their butts churn appealingly when they are
scampering about."

     "Should the butt plugs be ringed, Master?" the chief steward, the only
one allowed to directly address the master, asked, "so if a guest wants to
fuck one of the waiters, they can easily unplug them?"

     "Yes, of course," Master Holgate responded.  "No one wants to dig
around hunting for a butt plug when they want to fuck one of my
properties. Besides, I want the guests to know those waiting on them are
being primed for their potential use.  Nothing like a large ring sticking
out of their ass to let a guest know the slave's hole is being properly
stretched, has been completely cleansed and lubricated, and is in readiness
for their pleasure."

     "Yes, master," the chief steward replied with a look of total
agreement on his face. He along with the other stewards were all sporting
deeply inserted 8" butt plugs themselves as they listened to their master,
the normal expectation of most Holgate properties during the day, but their
plugs lacked the handy ring to give them a sleeker appearance.  And every
steward present had waited tables themselves at some point in their slavery
where their bodies were at full disposal of the diners.

     "The slaves chosen to actually bring the food to the table should be a
medium shade of dark brown, preferably African/Asian blends with heavy tit
rings, tall showy collars, ear rings, no nose ring, body shaved of course,
and with head hair clipped to 1" for a nice clean look.  During the serving
time, they should be wearing a pure white jock strap that shows off their
heavy package but keeps it safely out of the food they are serving while
displaying their butts without hindrance."

     "Should we keep the band around the servers' genitals, Master, if they
are to be covered?" the chief steward asked.

     Master Holgate rubbed his chin as he pondered the question.  "Of
course, as you know I like all my slaves banded at all times and, although
I know it is rare for a property of mine to be covered this way, we will
still want to make sure they protrude properly, jock-strap or not!
Besides, the covering will be short-lived.  As soon as the food has been
completely served, these slaves are to shed the covering and remain fully
nude for the remainder of the evening.  No use hiding what I paid big bucks
to obtain, now is there?" he laughed.  "My purchasing agent tells me
flaccid pricks are running a good $10,000 an inch for anything over a puny
4", and $5,000 an inch even when fully erect - even more if it's real thick
too.  That translates, steward, into a $30,000 to $40,000 purchase bonus
for most anything you see around this house, including the likes of you."

     "I shall make sure the servers all keep their bands on," the steward
assured his master as he looked down at the tight band around his own
well-displayed sexual apparatus, easily qualifying him for the purchase
bonus his master had just mentioned. Up until now, he hadn't realized
slaves' prices on the auction block were determined in considerable part by
a "dollars per inch" formula but it made sense.  After all, a big prick
should be an integral part of any slave's value alongside such other
factors as body build, facial attractiveness, overall musculature,
appealing handsome presentation, level of training, and overall slave
demeanor. Of course, all Holgate properties were the very best obtainable.
Hence, every slave Mr. Holgate owned was handsome to a fault, very heavy
hung, eager to perform whatever was asked of him, and exceptionally well
built. So it wasn't surprising every Holgate slave, at least, was huge,
dripping, handsome, and eager.

     As chief steward, it was his responsibility to make sure they stayed
that way. If they didn't, he made sure they were sold off or put down and
every Holgate slave under his supervision understood that perfectly. Of
course, there were variations in how you were sold off: everything from
being sold to a mining corporation where you'd never see daylight again, to
a common brothel where you would quickly be fucked to death, to a
plantation as a field worker where an overseer's whip on your back was a
constant companion, to a rendering plant that was eager to tan your hide
and turn your insides into fertilizer (or, rumor had it, a major ingredient
of slave chow), or, in the best scenario, to simply be sold off to one of
the master's friends who had enjoyed fucking you at a Holgate party.  The
chief steward shivered in dread as he tried not to think of when he too
would eventually be sold off when his value to his master decreased.  The
former chief steward, a most impressive slave who had been free until the
age of 23 when his military unit had been captured, had mercifully died in
his early 50s as he was busily helping train a new batch of Holgate slaves
and had been promptly shipped off to a rendering plant.  If he could only
be as lucky.

        "Enough of these boring details.  You stewards have been around
long enough to know my expectations in these areas.  Let us get on to what
will be different at this party.

     "First, there is the sit-down dinner.  Second, each guest will be
rowed to the estate via the river rather than use their cars on the main
road. I want the guests brought here on small galleys rowed by teams of
eight pure black slaves, all shackled in place, all fully naked, and all
positioned to show off their sex at all times.  The galley slaves should be
noted for their extreme musculature, their tightly curled head hair, their
shaved bodies and handsome faces, the sweat running off their steaming
bodies, and their huge erect pricks.  They should be seated on implanted
dildos to assure those erections are constant and to give the slaves the
feeling they are being deeply fucked with each stroke of the oar.  Each
team of galley slaves will have a rather young white driver, even more
handsome, who keeps the whip constant on their backs with lots of snapping
and cracking, but only enough laceration of the slave's backs and rumps to
assure there is nice red blood visible at all times. For contrast with the
smooth-skinned galley slaves, I want the driver's bodies unshaved with only
their pubes and head hair trimmed.  That will appeal to my guests who are
bored with the clean-shaven bodies most slaves have these days. The speed
of each barge should be astonishingly swift - the type of speed only a good
driver and heavily muscled slaves can produce in the short haul.  After
all, the galley slaves can catch their breath while my guests are loading
and unloading. As I said before, let's have all the galley slaves pure
blacks for added effect - their glistening sweat-soaked hides will show up
nicely reflecting from the torches adorning the front, back and sides of
each galley. Each galley slave should display their unique three digit
number tattooed in the middle of their upper back (in the case of pure
blacks this was done with white ink) and each guest should be told to write
down the number of any slave he would like to have available for his use
later in the evening when he might enjoy some after-dinner sex.  And that,
of course, includes those hairy white drivers as well.  Make sure every
guest is given a small pad of paper and a souvenir pen for just this
purpose.

     "Next, once off the galley, each guest will be transferred to a
waiting litter carried by four blond slaves - all heavily muscled, all
hairless outside of their long blond head hair and pencil line beards
outlining their jaws, and all outfitted only with thick, tall collars,
heavy tit rings, heavily banded genitals to assure maximum display of their
sex organs, and each leashed to the litter itself by their 2" nose ring.
The litters should be the underslung type with the poles on top of the
litter itself so the passenger can see easily the bearer's genitals and ass
as he is carried on the bearers' shoulders at full speed to the mansion
itself. Each bearer should be butt plugged so he remains hard and dripping
at all times and is, in effect, fucking himself with every step he takes.
Every guest should be invited to inspect the bearers before or after his
little trip and understand that he can fuck any of the bearers he might
want on the spot - delays aren't important here - or have any of the
bearers suck him off if he wants that.  Some might want a given bearer to
fuck them; some may want to milk a bearer; some might want to suck off a
bearer; some might want to just fondle a bearer's tits or genitals.
Sexy-looking blond slaves appeal to a lot of people for different
reasons. That's perfectly all right and my guests shouldn't be hurried no
matter whatever they might want to do with my properties - the intent is
"my property is their property for the duration of the party" and all
guests, as well, of course, all my slaves, should fully understand
that. It's your job to convey that sentiment to all the guests as well as
all my properties, stewards. As with the galley slaves, very guest should
be encouraged to write down any litter bearer's number (tattooed in black
ink on each bearer's upper back) he might want to use for his pleasure at a
later time."

     "Yes, master," the stewards answered in unison, having made sure
Holgate properties were fully enjoyed at many other previous parties. They
wondered if there was enough time to make sure the body hair grew out to
cover the bodies of the galley drivers and form the specified pencil line
beard of the litter bearers but then decided most slaves' beard and body
hair filled in rapidly once the daily shavings were halted. Their master
had given them enough time to fulfill his orders.

     "I'll be giving away ten slaves during the party this time, since I
want it known for its extravagance. Pick out a nice looking variety from
the latest crop in from my own breeding operations - one or two girls, the
other boys; all late teenagers, all fully trained as sex slaves, and all
wearing only their slave collars and their Holgate brand - no tit rings, no
genital bands, etc.  The idea will be slaves fresh from the breeding farms
- fully trained, but still fresh and appealing, to be decorated to the
lucky recipients own preferences," Mr. Holgate continued.

     "Nude, body shaved, purged, and lubed?" the steward asked.

     "Yes, of course, but leave out the butt plug - we want the illusion of
virginal here," Mr. Holgate laughed.

     "You want virgins, Master?" the chief steward asked in astonishment.

     "No, of course not," Mr. Holgate spit out in disgust at his steward's
ignorance.  "How could they be virgins if they are fully trained as sex
slaves, stupid? I said, if you were listening attentively as you should
have been, they should give the illusion of virginal due to their
freshness."

     "Sorry, Master," the chief steward quickly covered his error.  "I
should listen more carefully to the explicit instructions of my master."

     "Indeed, you should, steward, if you want to keep from being turned
into animal feed," Mr.  Holgate shot back.

     The chief steward and his entire staff shuttered at his master's
retort.  They knew only too well Master Holgate didn't joke about such
things. Only last week a slave had strongly protested when being fucked for
the third time in one evening by one of Mr. Holgate's guests who enjoyed
rough usage of slaves.  That boy was strapped to a bench right in front of
everyone and methodically had one body part after another cut off screaming
in agony as he watched his body slowly disappear into buckets destined for
the nearest rendering plant.  Finally, all that was left was his torso
minus his tits and his genitals and a mouth unable to scream in that his
tongue and vocal chords had also been cut out. As a huge dildo was rammed
up the ass of the remaining torso, the slave died with a look of horror
frozen in his eyes.  A few of the guests threw up witnessing this death,
but many others got so excited they shot a load spontaneously, while still
others grabbed the nearest slave to suck them off or to fuck to alleviate
their heightened sexual tension.  Most of the slaves in the room simply
trembled in fear, vowing to never - ever - protest any order from a freeman
no matter what. But some guests did comment on the extravagant cost of such
discipline - after all, the slave would have to be replaced, and he had
been a handsome, well hung boy that had probably cost a pretty penny at the
slave market - wouldn't a good beating or cut rations for a week or so have
taught the slave proper conduct?

     "Ancient Roman theme or not, it will give us a good chance to try out
the new electronic slave paging system I've installed.  Theoretically,
every guest needs only to punch in the slave's three-digit number and,
within a few minutes, that slave is there to fulfill his needs or, if the
slave is in use, approximately when he will be available and how many
requests are in queue before him or her. But, if the system fails, and you
know the reliability of electronic systems, be sure to have a backup system
in place."

     "Like the one we have always used before, master?" the chief steward
asked.

     "Exactly, steward.  It's a little slower, but we KNOW that system
works," Mr. Holgate smiled as he recalled a particular slave he had noticed
in the dining room earlier delivered to his room within three minutes just
last night.  That slave, a handsome mixed blood boy around 20 or so
purchased from a South American breeder, had proven to be a good choice -
he was eager to please, inexhaustible, had skin like velvet, and prodigious
equipment that seemed to remain hard no matter how many times the boy
emptied his balls.

     "As soon as the guests are assembled, the galley slaves as well as the
litter bearers are to be quickly cleansed and oiled and back in their cages
where they can be paged electronically for a guest's immediate usage. In
the foyer I want 100 more slaves available for guest usage - I'd say about
50 prime males and 50 females of various colors.  We have a number of women
guests invited who will want a nice selection of studs available for their
use but there will also be many guests, both men and women, desiring a
female for their pleasure.  Of course, many of the male guests will want to
fuck both male and female slaves, and then there are always those large
number of my male guests who are only interested in the male slaves
available to them. It's not surprising that the use of male slaves for the
sexual pleasures they offer has grown disproportionally as slavery has
become widespread. It's much easier just to order a male stud to do your
bidding as compared to having to go to all the trouble seducing them to
your bed," Mr. Holgate chuckled. "No wonder there are practically no males
around that are exclusively heterosexual anymore - only a few
ultraconservative diehards and some religious fanatics. Steward, can you
think of a single master anymore who doesn't have at least one male slave
in his bed now and then?"


     "No, master. Most masters nowadays tend to collect whole harems of
studs for their pleasure.  Just like all the mistresses I am aware of,
master."

     "Well, make sure our guests have no problems in getting exactly what
they want during the party, steward," Mr. Holgate said rather sternly.  "No
master or mistress wants to wait more than a few moments once they have
decided on a particular body they want to enjoy."

     "Yes, master.  I will make sure we have sufficient stock on hand to
meet the guests' desires quickly throughout the evening, master."

     "Well, with a total of 650 pieces of premium flesh on hand, that
shouldn't be a problem," Mr.  Holgate smugly replied. "If necessary,
utilize all of them.  That's why I bought them and they should know that by
now.  That includes the chefs, the chauffeurs, the cleaners, the gardeners
- the whole damn herd - not just those we bought specifically as pleasure
providers."

     "Yes, master.  I will make sure we have fresh stock available
throughout the evening and that, by the time the party is over, that all
your property has demonstrated their value to you and your guests, master."

     "That will include you and the other stewards," Mr. Holgate warned.
"Just because I hold you responsible for my livestock's performance doesn't
mean you are exempt from offering your bodies for the guests' pleasure."

     The last comment from their master led to all the stewards' banded
sexual organs swelling to a full erection as usually happened when the
slaves sexual use was being discussed.

     "Of course not, master," the chief steward replied.

     "In fact, I think you could concentrate much better on my instructions
if you were being fucked.  Form a circle so each of you can fuck the slave
in front of you while receiving a good fucking from the slave in back of
you.  Pump vigorously but don't cum until I give you permission.  That
should keep you attentive," Mr. Holgate said with a chuckle as the stewards
quickly formed a small circle behind a colleagues' inviting ass and,
without delay, thrust into the steward in front of him and started
thrusting vigorously while simultaneously taking a throbbing prick up their
own hole. Within a minute, the room was filled with the eery sound of
pricks sliding in and out of well lubricated ass holes, heavy panting, and
muffled moans.  Mr. Holgate reflected that the term "Daisy Chain" didn't
quite describe the writhing circle of animal passion he was now
witnessing. Indeed, slaves were no more than animals, even the supervisory
stewards, who, even now, were paying attention to every word of their
master as they humped away like dogs in heat.

     "The distribution of slave gifts will be done early in the evening - I
want to see the gifts well used before they leave these premises for
good. The giveaways will be presented as if they are to be auctioned off -
each chained to a pedestal for guests' inspection prior to the auction, and
then, mounted on the auction block in full presentation mode.  I intend to
give away 8 male slaves who should be on the sales podium with his hands in
back of his slave collar, his pelvis thrust forward with his prick fully
erect, and then given to a guest chosen at random by the house
computer. The two female gifts should be presented similarly with the
exception their breasts should be thrust forward, their nipples fully
erect, and their legs spread wide to display their clitoris and vagina.
All gift slaves should be freshly oiled, hairless of course below their
eyebrows, and in a visible state of sexual excitement prior to being
shown. As I give each slave away, I will suggest the recipient try his new
gift out immediately to see if he wants to keep the gift or try to exchange
his gift with another recipient.  To make sure my guests understand what I
mean by "trying a slave out" I want several pairs of slaves there on the
stand fucking and sucking each other positioned so every guests can see
them easily - sort of a way to break the ice for those guests who might be
a little inhibited and old fashioned when to comes to performing sex in
front of others.  Modesty is alright for sex between free people, but with
slaves it seems ridiculous.  After all, it's not like screwing your wife -
a slave is just an animal, after all, and this is a party designed for
people to enjoy themselves."

     "Yes, master," the chief steward puffed as he continued to plow into
the steward in front of him while accommodating the prick of a steward
plowing his ass from behind him. "We shall.... make ...
.sure... Master.... that the gift slaves are..... properly presented
..... and put .... to ...use... much ... as ...we ..are..right ..  now,"
the steward responded the best he could as he struggled to keep from
blasting off into the ass of the steward he was fucking. "Master..... may
... I ... be ... allowed to .... shoot off?  I can't hold it much
..... longer, master..." the steward gasped out.

     "Oh, very well," Mr. Holgate said as each of the stewards, with a moan
of relief, emptied his balls into the ass of the slave steward he was
screwing.  Within a minute, all asses were leaking hot cum and each of the
stewards had collapsed on the steward in front of them.

     "Lick that cum off the ass you just fucked and get back into proper
kneeling position," Mr.  Holgate ordered as each of the stewards carefully
licked all of his man juice out of the ass he had just fucked, swallowed
the full amount, and then quickly assumed a kneeling position in front of
their master, their knees spread wide to again fully display their sex with
their hands in back of their slave collars.

     "Now for my grand entrance," Mr. Holgate continued... "but first, I
need some refreshment.  Steward, summon a couple of fresh milk studs and
pump a full load from each of them out into a chalice.  Nothing like some
hot fresh cum as an afternoon snack."

     "Yes, master," the chief steward answered as he swiftly punched two
numbers into his hand held computer.  Several levels below, two cage lights
went on, two cage doors swung open, and two huge studs, both black, crawled
out hastily and proceeded to run down a path of lights guiding him to the
source of his summons.  Within 90 seconds, the two studs entered the room,
their gigantic pricks swaying as they ran, their breathing very rapid from
the swift run, and positioned themselves in front of the steward, their
pelvises thrust forward for easy handling, their long thick pricks already
hard and ready to be milked, their legs spread wide apart for ease of
access, and their hands placed in back of their necks for a good display of
their bodies.  Without hesitation, the chief steward took a chalice from
the nearby table and quickly milked the first stud with one hand while
churning the slave's balls with his other hand until the last drop of man
cream had been extracted.  He then turned to the other slave and milked him
dry also.  By the time he was finished, the chalice was full to
overflowing, was steaming in its freshness, and both milk studs were
slightly flaccid, their balls now soft and considerably smaller.  Without
hesitation, the chief steward handed the full chalice to his master and,
with a slap to each milk stud's rump, sent them back to their cages where
they knew they were to recharge as quickly as possible and await another
summons, if they were lucky, at some undeterminable time. If no summons
came for several days, they knew from experience their balls would ache
from being swollen full without relief, their every thought would be on
getting a master to milk them, and eventually they would be dripping all
over their cage as they struggled to keep from spontaneously spurting their
load without permission.  Even rubbing their swollen organs up again the
cage bars was strictly prohibited, let alone ever touching any area between
their legs.  What they stored in their balls was their master's property -
not their's - and they fully understood that at this point in their
training.

     Master Holgate continued his instructions as he swallowed large drafts
of the refreshing warm stud milk.

     "My entrance will be in a chariot pulled by 8 prancing matched
black-haired white slaves: all about 5'10", all shaved below their necks,
all with a pencil line beard and connecting mustache, and all tit ringed,
genitally banded with a penile ring, and all tall-collared, but no ear or
nose rings. They should be harnessed in red leather, be fitted with mouth
bits, with the reins attached to their tit rings. All should be butt
plugged so their asses churn as they pull the chariot (purchase a flashy
one, preferably gold, from some movie lot), and I want them all coated in a
heavy oil so they practically glow in the lights. Then I will ascend a
throne surrounded by 16 kneeling blacks arranged in a circle around me,
each naked black selected for his musculature and the extreme size of his
erect penis.  They will lift me to atop their shoulders with their legs
spread wide for at least an hour so make sure you pick some sturdy slaves
and, I don't need to tell you, I will invite the guests to fondle their
bodies as they are holding me, including milking them as they please, so
make sure their balls are stuffed full to start with.

     "After I'm out of the chariot, the white ponies should be unhitched,
have their bits removed, and then crawl beneath my ascended throne where
they will fuck each other beneath my throne just as you stewards did a few
minutes ago for my amusement.  The only difference is, I expect them to
fuck each other in a continuous chain for the full hour I am being held
aloft, so they should exercise heavy body control during that time.  After
that, of course, along with my throne supporters, they should offer
themselves to my guests for the remainder of the evening. That will give my
guests 24 prime animals at their complete disposal as a little variety to
the other offerings of the evening.  When the guests are through using
those 24, they should be sent down to the cleansing station for
refurbishing and reassignment back to another round of guests.  I expect
those particular 24 slaves to take on at least 8 guests before the night is
over - anything less and they should understand they face some severe
discipline the next morning.  That knowledge should assure you stewards
that they won't be shirking their duties - in fact, you should emphasize
they will need to solicit the guests' usage at every opportunity if they
are to meet their quota for the evening. There's nothing better than seeing
one of my properties desperately beg one of my guests to fuck him.

     The stewards were well familiar with the master's injunction that all
his properties were to seek out guest usage at every opportunity.  Every
one of them had been involved in dispensing the severe discipline to slaves
the next morning who, despite every effort on their part, had failed to
garner the necessary number of guest usages the previous night.  It was
seldom necessary to discipline the same slaves over and over for failure to
solicit usage.  Almost every slave made sure they met their quota from then
on no matter what was necessary to interest a guest in using them -
anything a guest did to them was far preferable than facing a steward's
discipline, even begging a guest you knew got their pleasure from torturing
a hapless slave or enjoyed fucking a slave until he was senseless or got
their jollies from seeing slaves writhe in agony from various abuses.  A
slave knew he usually healed from whatever a guest could do to him; the
steward's discipline was so severe it generally often permanently mutilated
your body.  Of course, the stewards reflected, there were masters who
bought slaves simply to destroy their bodies for some whim or another (some
liked to amputate body parts; some liked slaves left only with a trunk and
his sexual organs; some enjoyed castrating a slave; some like to cut
designs into their hides; and still others enjoyed cutting a slave's
tendons so they could only crawl from then on).  No guest could do that to
property that didn't belong to them, so they were relatively safe as long
as Master Holgate held their ownership papers.

     "You watch those olf Hollywood movies, multiply what you see 100 times
when it comes to slaves, adjust it to what we (and probably the Romans if
the truth were known) expect of slaves, get rid of all that silly clothing
on slaves, and come up with something interesting fo the party.  I expect a
detailed plan for my review in three days time. Just make sure you
incorporate the good ideas I've given you today and make sure no guests
leaves this party with a trace of disappointment no matter what his or her
expectations were - I want every guest talking about this party for years
to come and utterly amazed.  I don't really care what it cost, how many of
my properties are worn out in their efforts to please, or how many slaves
we have to sell off afterwards because they couldn't keep up with guests'
demands. If that's the case, remind them that when we sell off slaves, we
sell them to dealers who make sure they get full value from slaves one way
or another and their cushy life here was only a pleasant dream."

     With that, Master Holgate stood up.  It was obvious the day's
instructions were over.

THE VOLUPTUARY

By Bill Smith

CHAPTER 15

VISITING CLAUDE DUPREE

     "I'm going to visit my friend Claude DuPree now, Chief Steward.
Summon my car.  Claude has a Mexican slave he says is amazing and is
offering me first option on him if he appeals to me.  He claims the boy is
dazzlingly handsome, equipped like a bull, and takes you to a whole new
level of pleasure when you fuck him. Supposedly, the slave is only 18 and
has skin that glows like amber with bright blue eyes - Claude claims he's
pure Aztec and, since he bought him presumably at a Mexican slave market
well off the beaten track, he may just be a pureblood.  But," he chuckled,
"you and I both know how Claude loves to exaggerate. That black he sent
over on approval last week to 'suck me off like I've never been sucked
before' was no better than any 20 properties we have right here on hand at
any given time."

     "Yes, master," the Chief Steward said as he stood to order up the
master's limousine.  He did remember the black slave of his master's friend
Claude DuPree. The black was extremely handsome and ruggedly masculine as
well as hung like a bull, but when his master had handed the boy over to
him to "check him out for yourself," he had to agree with his master.  The
young slave was no better with his mouth than thousands of other similarly
trained slaves - he took a prick clear down his throat all right, and the
suction was good, but the tongue action was languid and the throat muscles
were still uncoordinated to the task at hand.  You could never truthfully
say the slave was "milking" you with his throat.

     The Holgate limousine, a recently purchased Maybach, pulled up to the
front entrance and one of the Holgate chauffeurs, a slave of course, leaped
out to open the rear door for his master, his eyes appropriately cast
downward in respect with his body at rigid attention (legs slightly apart,
pelvis and chest thrust outward with head held high above his tight
collar). He was conservatively dressed for a slave due to his exposure to a
variety of public situations: skin-tight full length spandex black pants
with a special buckle made up like the Holgate slave brand, black socks and
shoes, a special silver collar, ear and tit rings, and that's all. The
chauffeur was magnificently built with an oiled brown hairless body
(outside his handsome head which had shoulder-length tightly braided dread
locks and a pencil-line black beard and mustache) that exactly matched both
the limousine's external paint as well as the interior especially
upholstered with tanned slave hides featuring the Holgate brand marks. The
huge bulge in the chauffeur's skin tight pants informed anyone looking at
him that this slave was superlatively equipped.  As soon as his master had
entered the car, the slave chauffeur gently closed the door and raced to
the driver's seat.  With a smooth glide forward, the limousine was soon
mixing in with the traffic, its chauffeur, with his legs spread wide apart
as trained, alert to any new instructions from his master in the rear
compartment.

     This particular chauffeur had driven his master to his friend Claude
before and, as he waited for his master by the car once they had arrived at
the DuPree mansion, marveled at Master DePree's plethora of slave stock -
all kept totally naked at all times, all obviously selected for the size of
their sex organs as well as their well muscled physiques, and all in a
perpetual state of sexual arousal due to the deep butt plugs implanted in
them which constantly stimulated their prostates. Master DePree seemed to
have no females in his household, although the chauffeur knew he operated a
rather large breeding farm, obviously in some other location.  He wondered
if all the household slaves were products of the breeding farm or if this
master had purchased them at some market or another.  Regardless, the
DePree slaves marveled at the fact the visiting slave wore clothing of any
type, that he was fitted with pure silver tit rings, and that he was
entrusted with driving such an expensive car. None of them dared to get
close to the car, despite their curiosity to view its interior, but they
did, when they thought their overseer was out of hearing range, ask the
chauffeur about his unique belt buckle, his silver collar, when he learned
to drive a car, how much a car like the Maybach cost, how long his master
had owned him, and how often he got fucked.

     The car question was typical and the chauffeur answered the cost
inquiry in terms they could understand.  The Maybach cost more than four
times what he (or they) were likely to bring if auctioned off. The last two
questions were almost standard whenever any slave found an opportunity to
visit with another slave and the chauffeur answered their questions with a
big smile: his master had always owned him in that he was a product of his
master's breeding operations; and he usually got fucked two or three times
a day, usually by one of his master's friends or household guests, but
occasionally by the master himself, especially on any trip over two or
three hours when the master hadn't bothered to bring one of his regular sex
slaves along with him.  The chauffeur explained that on those trips, he had
to park the car, strip, and then climb in the back compartment for his
master's convenience.

     "You mean you have to get back into those stretchy pants with cum all
over you?" one of the DuPree slaves asked, obviously worried about the
burden of wearing a few clothes.

     "Yes," the chauffeur answered, "but it soaks into the cloth quickly
and he doesn't always fuck me anyway.  A lot of times, he has me suck him
off so there's nothing to mess the car up that way."

     "What's the inside of that fancy car like?" another slave, standing
nearby dared to ask.

     "It's fitted with the finest woods and upholstered in slave hide," the
chauffeur said.  "All with brand marks showing and all matched for color -
the same as mine."

     "Slave hide?" the slave asked incredulously.  "You mean when we die
they strip off our skin and tan it - just like leather?"  The slave
trembled at the thought.

     "Only if you have a real smooth hide, the color they're looking for,
and some interesting brand marks or whip weals that might show up well,"
the chauffeur explained without emotion.  "What difference does it make -
you're dead anyway when they hide you. You won't feel a thing," the
chauffeur chuckled.

     "They won't hide me," the slave replied assuredly.  "My master, he
doesn't shave my hide - he likes me with a lot of hair as you can see - all
he trims off is my pubic and ass hair. He says he likes the look of my
black curly fur."

     "They're want your hide all the more," the chauffeur laughed.  "You
see the back compartment of the car.  It's upholstered entirely with hides
that have a lot of fur on them.  My master says it makes it very luxuriant
and, I must say, it is nice to the touch.  The chauffeur's compartment and
the door panels are all upholstered with smooth hairless hides so the brand
marks show up better. But I find it very supple and soft, but you have to
oil slave hide regularly to keep it that way."

     "What oil do you use?" the inquiring slave continued.

     "Same oil they use on you and me now," the chauffeur laughed.  "Just
because you die on them doesn't mean you're going to get away from slave
oil. After I oil my own body, I just keep on and oil the car's upholstery.
Are you bred or were you free once?" the chauffeur asked the constant
questioner.

     "Me?  I was free until I was 20 and then got enslaved for drug
dealing. Stupid, really, but you know the courts don't put up with anything
to do with drugs.  Sent to the county slave training center for a few
months, put up for auction, and Master DePree outbid everyone else.  He
told me he liked my blue eyes, my black hair, my big dick, and my muscular
build and that I was to keep my hair long, not shave my body outside of my
pubes and ass hair, and exercise no less than two or three hours a day to
keep all my muscles taut like he wants them if I wanted to be fed and ever
get to empty my balls.  So now, I'm in his forced exercise regime along
with the others, get a measured amount of slave chow twice a day, all the
water I want, and get to shoot off once every few weeks if I'm lucky. That
keeps me looking pretty, muscular, and horny all the time," the handsome
black-haired slave laughed.

     "What does your master use you for?" the chauffeur asked.

     "Keeping the outside clean and his lawn in order and," he smirked,
"fucking the hell out of me whenever he takes a fancy for a boy with bright
blue eyes, black hair, and a big thick dick."

     "And how often is that?" the chauffeur teased the talkative DuPree
slave.

     "About every other day, but he loans me out to his friends at least
once a day and he has me fucked by his other slaves for entertainment quite
a bit too," the handsome slave said with a blush of embarrassment.

     "My God, you still blush at admitting you get fucked a lot?" the
chauffeur laughed.  "You and about ten million other slaves, I imagine."

     "Well, I only get off about once every two or three weeks and that's
the hard part of it," the slave replied.  "Besides," he blushed bright red
and then whispered, "I still prefer sex with women."

     "So what?  What you want doesn't have a damn thing to do with it and
you know it, slave," the chauffeur lectured.  "You're lucky masters want to
use your body.  Otherwise, you'd be in the mines or on a construction crew
and you damn well know it.  Better a male whore than what else slaves have
to do," the chauffeur said with considerable conviction.

     "I know you're right," the handsome blue-eyed slave replied with a
tear in his eye.  "But I sure would like to fuck some pussy sometime before
I die."

     "You ever fuck pussy before you got enslaved?" the chauffeur asked.

     "Plenty," the black-haired slave said.  "At least three or four times
a week - I guess it got me in a bad habit."

     "Bad habit for a slave, unless you got bought for studding," the
chauffeur added.

     "That's my big dream," the DePree slave brightened up.  "The overseer
said the other day the master was going to pick one of us to spend some
time down in the rutting sheds of his breeding farm.  It might be me if
he's wanting some blue-eyed white stock in the future."

     "Well, don't count on it.  The current market, I understand, is for
mixed breeds - you know, mulattos, Eurasians, quadroons, exotics like
Polynesians mixed with Chinese, Arabs mixed with Scandinavians, stuff like
that. Of course, they're always be a market for some pure breeds like pure
blonds, pure blacks, pure Polynesians.  And as a white, they could always
have you breed with a black to get a nice mulatto or something. I
understand I'm the product of a pure black African stud mated with a
light-skinned Arab wench. Turned out rather well, don't you think?"

     "O.K.," the white slave acknowledged.  "By the way, what did your
master name you?"

     "Driver," the chauffeur replied.  "He usually names us for what we
do."

     "Not very imaginative," the white slave snickered.  "What are some of
your master's other slaves named?"

     "Steward, Overseer, Yardboy, Bedbuck, Pleasure, Chef, Prick, Asshole,
Waiter, Washerman, Sucker, and he's got a stud in house named Humper.  What
did your master name you?"

     "Available," the white slave blushed again.

     "No, I know you're always available to your master - all his slaves
would be - but what did he name you?"

     "I just told you.  Available. And that's just the way it ends up.  I'm
available to anyone anytime and better be good at what they want from me or
I get a whipping I don't forget as well as cut rations for a couple of
weeks."

     "Good a name as any," Driver replied after some reflection.

     "Yeah, but it doesn't do much for my self-esteem," Available chuckled.

     Inside the mansion, Driver's master was examining the much vaulted
Mexican slave being offered for sale.

     "My God, Claude.  He's not even branded and collared, and even with
that ring in his nose, if you put clothes on this animal, he could pass
himself off as a freeman.  Have you lost your mind?  Slaves tear their nose
rings out all the time to get loose and the only way you can tell is
they're minus a septum in their nose and not everyone will notice,
especially if the slave keeps his head down."

     "Calm down, David," Claude laughed as he hooked a leash to the Mexican
slave's nose ring and pulled it taut to make sure it was fastened
properly. The action whipped the Mexican boy's face directly toward his
current owner which a muffled howl of surprised pain since the tug was not
expected. "I'm leaving all that up to his new owner.  I just bought him for
re-sale and you know those rural markets in Mexico don't waste any money
dolling up slaves with one thing or another - all that cost money, you
know."

     "Well, a brand wouldn't have cost much of anything and plastic collars
are cheap enough," David Holgate said curtly, "even for the Mexican
merchants.  You're lucky you got him here without him trying to run."

     "It's hard to run when you're locked in a steel cage so small you can
barely squirm around," Claude DuPree laughed. "But I'll at least put a
temporary collar on him and make sure he's caged all the time we're not
showing him off or fucking him. Just where do you think this animal is
going to run, David?  He doesn't have a stitch of clothes, he hasn't the
faintest idea of where he's at, and he doesn't speak a word of English
outside of 'Yes, Master,' and 'No, Master.'"

     "You're more naive than I thought, Claude," David said.  "A boy that's
probably only recently been caught by the slave catchers, and hence was
free all his life until then, and who is half-way intelligent knows full
well how to steal a few clothes and a little money, pick up a little
English, and figure out how to eventually work his way home, telling
everyone along the way he's a free Mexican looking for a runaway slave.  It
happens often enough.  Last I read, the government figures there are over
1900 runaway slaves out there somewhere.  I grant you that's damn few out
of the millions properly caged and collared, but still - each one is stolen
property and someone's financial loss.  You do know, don't you Claude, that
an owner allowing a slave to escape can be charged with severe negligence
and the fine is very steep - more than the slave would cost anyone."

     "I didn't know that," Claude replied.  "Doesn't seem fair.  First you
lose what you paid for the property. Then you have to pay a fine on top of
that?"

     "That's to knock some sense into careless owners like you, Claude,"
David lectured.  "If that's the only way you can learn, so be it.  You
won't get any sympathy from me if an collared, unbranded slave boy likes
this takes off on you and tries to hoodwink the free population he's one of
them.  The audacity of such a thing - unimaginable!  But some of these
properties are pretty clever, considering they're just animals really."

     David was so upset he grabbed the displayed slave's big balls, and
gripping them firmly with one hand, began to roughly stroke the Mexican's
huge prick to a full erection with his other hand as the hapless boy
endured the harsh inspection.

     As David was stroking the slave, Claude commented that the black slave
he had loaned David for a trial period was just finishing up a retraining
program with one of his best sex trainers.

     "I'm really glad you gave me the negative feedback on that black,"
Claude said.  "You were right.  When we tried him out again after your
return of the property, we found he really wasn't the great sucker we
originally thought.  As you said, he didn't really use his throat muscles
to milk you, just grip you and let it go at that with a little tongue
action.  But he's coming around now.  The trainer has a ball shocker
installed on the black.  Then he monitors his throat muscles when he has a
real big one clear down his throat and the minute the slave's throat
muscles aren't in a rhythmic pumping movement on that embedded shaft, he
gets his balls fried.  Doesn't take long with a ball shocker on him to
learn what's expected of a good slave sucker.  I want you to try him out
before you leave, if you will, to vertify the new training program has been
effective.  We'll leave the ball shocker on him just to make sure, but the
trainers tell me once they're completely trained, the throat muscles work
on their own automatically once they're stretched by a prick down their
throat and they suck properly from then on with the ball shocker off of
them.  The change is supposedly permanent and I can see why.  I'm sure a
slave is more contented doing something with their throat muscles than just
freezing up and I'm sure they get a lot more cum in their bellies working
those throat muscles.  All slaves, kept on restricted rations, likes the
extra meal a good load of hot nourishing cum gives them."

     "Your sex trainers sound competent, Claude.  At least their logic is
self-evident," David replied.  "And I will want to see how the black has
progressed in this essential chore before I leave," David added.  "He had
potential - I could tell - but a slave who hasn't developed his full
potential is really a waste, I'm sure you'll agree.  If you've got him
sucking properly for a change, I might be interested in purchasing the
black after all."

     By then the Mexican boy was struggling to keep from ejaculating in
response to the constant stroking of his sex organ but knew he didn't dare
without his owner's permission.  That much he had thoroughly learned in his
relatively short captivity so far - his body was the property of his master
and he was not to do any bodily function without his master's express
permission, including shooting off, no matter how much stimulation his body
was getting. He broke out in a deep sweat all over his golden body, his
muscles tensed, and his breathing grew ragged as his prick started
tremoring in David's hand.

     David, very experienced in handling slaves, let loose of the slave's
organs and quickly ordered the boy onto his back with his legs over his
shoulders and his hole fully exposed.

     "I want to fuck your new slave while he's all heated up," David said
to his host.  "Any objections?"

     "That's why he's here, David," Claude crooned.  "I told you he one's
of the best fucks around and I want you to see for yourself - I really
didn't expect you to just take my word for it," he laughed.

     The Mexican boy assumed the commanded position still quivering in need
as his big prick pulsated, larger than it had been in weeks. When first
enslaved, he hated being force fucked like this.  Now, after his hole had
been stretched by numerous sessions with the trainers - all of whom seemed
to be as well equipped as he was - it was about the only way to get some
sexual relief.  Usually, his user allowed him to shoot off at the same time
they were shooting their load into hisr ass so they could care less about
the mess you were making between your bodies.  After all, you had to lick
it all up after you had finished cleaning off their prick with your mouth.
Even when they fucked you doggie style, the pool of cum you had shot out
beneath you while they were filling your ass with their own load didn't
seem to bother them, especially if you cleaned it up with your tongue when
they were finished with you cleaning them.  In fact, most users seemed to
like to see the slave licking up his own cum for a little added extra.
First, you swallowed their remnants of cum off of their prick; then you
swallowed your own off the floor.

     Just four months ago, the young boy had been free, but desperately
poor. Too poor to even buy a few minutes with even the oldest, most worn
out slave puta (whore), male or female, at the rundown local brothel.  And
no free girl would let you in their shirts without marrying them first -
pre-marital sex for a female usually ended up with her being sold into
slavery.  So most sex was courtesy of his right hand pumping away whenever
he got a chance.  Slavery changed all that - now he was never allowed to
masturbate himself; now he could only get relief with the express approval
of his master; and that was usually, but not always, after he had been
fucked.  Even sucking a master off brought little relief - the master
almost never allowed a slave to masturbate just because he had done a
particular good job of sucking someone off.  So the Mexican boy had learned
about the only way he could ever get any sexual relief was to willingly
allow his ass to be fucked when anyone was desirous of doing so. By now, he
was so hard up all the time, he found himself actually soliciting the use
of his ass, just like the whores back in his small home town.  Like most
horny adolescents who were poor, he used to dream of owning a slave of his
own and what he would do with unlimited access to that slave's body. True,
most of those dreams were of female slaves, but, he had to admit, a few of
them involved handsome boy slaves, especially when he would see one naked
on the streets owned by some rich man.  Now, he WAS that naked boy slave
and he could understand why all those naked boy slaves he had seen on the
streets of his home town always looked at you longingly with their big
pricks almost always erect expressing their need.  It was as if the slave
boys were always in a state of sexual excitement and need - now he knew
why.  His prick was seldom flaccid anymore and he knew he looked at free
persons as a way to alleviate his needs.  Yes, he had truly become a slave.

     His master's guest had already stripped and, within moments, had his
prick sliding up the Mexican slave's well lubricated ass chute.  As the
slave's training clicked in, his ass muscles tightened around the invading
prick and started to pump it just as he had been taught in weeks and weeks
of rigid training.  A smile spread across the slave's face as he felt his
user's organ nudge his joy spot deep inside his body and pleasure spread
across every cell of his body. The slave began to hump upward in rhythm
with his user's fucking movements and twisted his tight hole to heighten
his user's pleasure. His master's guest began to chew on the slave's
nipples, which, due to his thorough training, only heightened the slave's
excitement in being fully used and the Mexican boy felt his balls tighten
as cum raced down his interior ducts. Just when he felt his user tighten in
anticipation of shooting deep into his bowels, the slaveboy cleverly
relaxed so his user didn't shoot off prematurely and thus encouraged him to
another few minutes of unparalleled bliss in fucking the slave boy.
Finally, after three "ups" for the master and three "downs" by the slave
boy beneath him, the master could be held back no longer and, the slave
sensing this, tightened his ass mucles even tighter and pumped the fully
embedded prick until it exploded within him, dumping load after load of cum
into his bowels until the master had been completely drained and was laying
atop him breathless, an enlarged tit still in his mouth.

     "Jesus Christ," David panted.  "That's was one holy fuck."

     "I told you," Claude said, sitting in a nearby chair enjoying the
scene played out before him. "But the room simply reeks of sex smell,"
Claude laughed.  "As soon as the Mexican slave cleans off your shaft and
licks your body clean of his own jism, I'll get some air freshener out."

     The slave, unprompted, quickly swallowed the master's prick the minute
it was withdrawn from his body and cleaned it completely with a good
mouthing and lots of tongue action.  Only when his user was satisfied did
he turn attention to his own body and began to clean it with his finger
scooping up the residue and then swallowing it along with the cum and ass
juice remnants of his user.

     "Mucho gracios, Master," the Mexican slave said contritely to his
master's guest who had just fucked him since the only English he knew yet
was "Yes, Master" and No, Master" and neither response seemed to fit.

     It would have been unthinkable to return the thanks to a mere slave,
but David did give the slave an interested look.  After he had his clothes
back on, David asked his friend Claude how much he wanted for the Mexican
boy.

     "You can have him and the fully retrained black for $100,000.  I'm
feeling generous and really have no use for either one of them myself.
David, I paid $25,000 for the Mexican before any training, and bred blacks
built like the one I want to sell you, fully trained, are selling for at
least $60,000 on the open market. It's a great buy if I do say so myself?"

     "Perhaps, but the Mexican isn't even collared, let alone branded or
properly ringed outside of that nose ring of his. The black is at least
properly fitted out."

     "Buy them both for $100,000 and I'll give you the Mexican caged so he
can't run away until you get him to his new home and do whatever you want
to do to his body to make sure everyone in God's earth will know he's
someone's property now. I'll throw that tight little cage in for free - you
won't even need to return it once you have the slave fitted out and branded
properly.  Just think, this way you can put your own brand on him wherever
you like, ring the shit out of him, and put a collar on him that'll keep
his handsome head up for all to see."

     "Let the black suck me off first, and if he does it right this time,
it's a deal."

     "But, David, you're drained dry," Claude laughed.

     "It will give the black slave a challenge," David smiled.

     The black was summoned, David once again removed his clothes and
Claude once again settled back in his chair to watch a great show still
restraining the Mexican slave beside him by the tight leash on his nose
ring. This time, the black eagerly swallowed the proffered prick all the
way down into his throat where his throat muscles instantly went to work
pumping the organ within it while the black's tongue and sucking motions
worked continuously.  In a amazingly short time, David felt his prick swell
to its full aroused size and begin to pulsate in preparation for yet
another big discharge.  Meanwhile, he played with the slave's ringed tits,
very convenient now that the well-built black was on his knees.  The tits
swelled in his hands and were large and meaty to the touch, just the way
David liked them.  Within a few more minutes, he stiffened, arched his
back, and pumped a fresh load down into the black's stomach in volley after
volley.

     "God, I'm tuckered out," David gasped as he slowly withdrew his prick
from the black's throat, who then promptly cleaned it of any residue with
his tongue.  "That's some retrainer, Claude. That ball shocker method
works.  This slave knows what to do when he swallows a prick now!"

     "Then you'll buy him along with the Mexican boy?" Claude confirmed.

     "Sold," David gasped out, "but remember I want the Mexican caged for
the trip home."

     "Caged it will be," Claude laughed.  "And I'll just leash the black by
his balls for you.  You may want to play with him on your way home.  Are
you going to put the black in the trunk of that Maybach with the caged
Mexican or are you going to let him ride in the back compartment with you
on all that furry slave hide?"

     "Claude, the black's going to get to inspect the furry slave hide,"
David laughed, so make sure he's all clean - no sweat on his hide,
understand?"

     "He'll be spotless, just like your Maybach," Claude chuckled.  With
that, the black and the Mexican slaves were sent to the mansion's slave
maintenance center where they were given enemas, showered, and re-oiled.
The black slave had a leash fastened to his genital ring and the Mexican,
no longer leashed by his nose ring, was shoved into his tiny cage. They
were then delivered to the front entrance where the Maybach and Driver
awaited. CHAPTER 16

                         THE TWO NEW PURCHASES

     The Mexican slave could see a little of the outside world through the
ventilation holes in the side of his sturdy metal cage.  The metal box was
so cramped he couldn't move much anyway, but, just to make sure movement
was limited, his nose ring had been fastened to one of several clamps
inside the cage and his hands had been shackled behind him, forcing him to
remain in one position no matter what and making sure he had no access to
his sexual organs for manual relief. Inside the cage he felt no different
than a pig trussed for the marketplace.

     The young slave thought back to the first time he had been put in a
cage. By comparison to his current confinement, the large cage in the back
of the beat-up old Chevy pickup truck that had taken him to the small town
in Mexico where he had first been sold at the slave market there had been a
dream.  At least in that old truck's cage, he could move around a bit, even
though there were five other naked male slaves in the cage, and, once
underway, the slaves had stroked and sucked each other just to pass the
time away.  The captives were oblivious to the stares of those free persons
alongside the road who commented on how slaves were just animals, having
sex with each other right in public. The Mexican boy reflected that it was
in the back of that old smoke-belching pickup truck that he first learned
what being a slave was really like.

     Now, delivered to the front of his former owner's mansion, he saw
through his tiny viewing hole the most magnificent car he had ever seen,
complete with a strikingly handsome chauffeur fitted out with a shiny
silver collar, matching tit rings, and a pair of the tightest pants he had
ever seen on a person (which left nothing to the imagination of what lay
underneath those pants). The slave chauffeur even had shoes and socks!

     The chauffeur was standing rigidly upright beside an opened back door
to the limousine revealing its upholstery inside - an unusual thin leather,
almost translucent, covered with what looked like hair on a human chest or
back.  When the Mexican spotted a slave brand on the upholstered back door
open for his inspection, he drew in his breathe as he suddenly realized how
the car had been upholstered - it was the skin of slaves, just like
himself, except exceptionally hairy specimens and obviously kept
unshaven. Never had he heard slaves' skins were used in this fashion; never
had he heard even the idea of such a thing.  No one in Mexico had anything
made of slave skin - no book covers, no wallets, no lamp shades, no writing
mats, nothing he had ever heard of. He felt the bile rising in his throat
as he wondered what sort of monster he had just been sold to. Was he to be
the next door panel on the fancy car?

     Back in the slave pens of the auction house in rural Mexico, he knew
all the merchandise there were praying to get a Mexican owner in that they
said Americans made bad masters and mistresses. But he always thought they
were talking about fucking them for their jollies, not skinning them for
their hides.  He shivered as he pondered his future. His new master had
fucked him thoroughly but not savagely and nothing he did seemed to be to
induce deliberate pain in the slave just for pain's sake.  Instead, any
actions on his part seemed only to increase the amount of pleasure he was
receiving in fucking this new plaything. But now that he was the property
of this man, would his true nature emerge?  He hoped he had been purchased
to fuck, as he had originally thought, and, if so, he would make damn sure
he offered up the best fuck the master had ever experienced.  As long as he
could do that, surely he would avoid being skinned just for his smooth
flawless amber hide.

     The fearful Mexican slave didn't realize that this was exactly the
message Master Holgate wanted to give his slaves when they viewed (or even
heard about) the interior of his car.  The thought of being skinned alive
kept even the most recalcitrant slaves well in line and Holgate slaves were
renown for their instant obedience, their complete subservience, and their
need for little external discipline. Just why slaves always assumed their
hides would be stripped from their bodies while they were still alive
always amused David Holgate.  But why correct this misinterpretation of
events if it served his purpose.  Only Driver seemed to know the truth of
it and he seemed to enjoy the deception common among the Holgate slaves.
David had only heard Driver tell other people's slaves that the hides were
harvested from dead slaves, but, of course, Driver never really explained
whether the slaves were dead before the hide removal or after.

     The DuPree slaves gathered some distance away to view the car
disappeared back to their work stations the minute they saw anyone
approaching from the mansion itself, in this case the slaves carrying the
metal cage and the visiting Master himself leading a huge collared black
out by a leash connected to his genitals.  Their own master, Master DuPree,
brought up the rear of the assemblage.

     "Driver, put the caged slave in the trunk," Master Holgate ordered.

     Instantly, Driver broke his rigid stance by the Maybach's rear door
and pushed a button on his key fob which opened the truck electrically.  He
peered inside the cage and he and two of the DePree slaves lifted the
Mexican boy into the truck. Driver saw the boy's face fastened by his nose
ring close to the cage door and was instantly turned on with his bright
blue eyes and amber skin.  His erection grew noticeably in the revealing
spandex pants as he lowered the trunk lid and the two DePree slaves
returned to their house stations.

     "Looks like you fancy the new slave, Driver," Master Holgate laughed
as he squeezed Driver's swollen genitals through the thin mesh of his
spandex pants as he entered the car where, again, his chauffeur was at
rigid attention by the car's open door. "Well, keep dreaming, Driver.  I
may let you fuck him someday as a special reward."

     "Yes, master.  Thank you, master," Driver said humbly.

     A few of the DuPree slaves doing yard work nearby overheard the
visiting master telling his slave chauffeur he might be allowed to fuck one
of the recently purchased DuPree slaves at some future time.  Such
thoughtfulness and generosity on the part of a master was unprecedented in
the DuPree household and they marveled at such a charitable attitude on the
part of a master.  They reflected, with some envy, on the good fortune of
the two DuPree slaves being loaded into the limousine who, apparently, had
just been sold to this new owner.

     The young Mexican slave locked in the dark trunk overheard the
conversation and visualized the handsome chauffeur, his sleek muscular
body, and his tight, tight pants once again.  If he was going to be fucked,
and he knew that was his main role now, he'd rather be fucked by the
handsome chauffeur than anyone else he could think of right now. Besides,
from the look of the chauffeur's hard-on, the poor slave apparently didn't
get to fuck anyone much - he looked like he was about to burst out of his
pants he was so needy.

     After Master Holgate was in the car, there was the question of where
to put the naked black slave, leashed by his genitals.

     "Master, do you want the black boy on the floor of the rear
compartment with you, or should I put him in the trunk also, or should I
put him up front with me, Master?" Driver asked.

     "There's no room in the trunk as you well know, Driver, so put him on
the floor back here with me.  I'm too tuckered out to have him suck me off
again, but at least I can play with his tits on the return home."

     Driver pulled on the black slave's genital leash and soon had the huge
black kneeling on the floor of the rear compartment positioning him where
the slave's tits were within easy range of his master's hands.

     Soon the Maybach was speeding down the highway.  Master Holgate was
busy playing with the black slave's tits in the back compartment, but soon
got bored with that and repositioned the slave so he could fondle the
black's huge genitals, now fully erect from the heavy tit play.  Before
long, Master Holgate decided he'd like a little snack and milked the black
into a crystal cup obtained from the Maybach's built-in bar. Once the cup
was filled (with the black panting from his voluminous discharge), David
Holgate shoved the black's head to the floor and rearranged himself in the
luxurious seat as he sipped the steaming hot cum, reflecting on how tasty
his new purchase's milk was. He smiled as how he thought the black gave out
cum as well as he took it in and wondered if the more cum you have a slave
swallow, the more you got when you milked him.  He'd have to ask his
stewards about that - perhaps they could run a little experiment with some
of the slaves under their charge.

     Once they were back at the Holgate mansion, Driver took the caged
Mexican slave to the mansion's slave maintenance center where Master
Holgate had phoned in his instructions.  The new purchase was promptly
branded on his left ass cheek with the Holgate ownership crest, had his new
name of "Aztec" branded into his upper right shoulder as well as in the
middle of his upper back, and then was fitted with tit rings, a thick
genital band, and a new heavy "high" collar which forced the Mexican boy's
head straight up at all times - so he could never bend his head down again
as long as that collar was in place. The slave's prominent nose ring stayed
in place for leashing purposes.  By the time the Mexican had been
"processed," there was no mistaking him ever again for what he was - a
slave.  He now looked like a slave and no matter whether he had a few
clothes on him or not, everyone would know he was a slave by his nose ring
and his unmistakable slave collar.  Once he was stripped to a slave's
normal complete nakedness, the deep-set brands and rings broadcast he was
owned property.  There would be no need to ever worry again about him
passing himself off as a "free" Mexican.  He was marked for life as owned
livestock, an animal labeled "Aztec," and, right now, a property primarily
devoted to delivering a phenomenal fuck.

     As Aztec lay in his cage recovering from the lacerations through his
tits and the deep burns left by the brands, he wept, knowing there was now
no chance ever of returning to the quiet Mexican village life he had once
known. From now on, he would be no different than any of the many slave
boys he had seen around ever since he could remember, all owned by rich men
and all, if halfway decent looking, put to their owners' pleasure at every
opportunity.  All of them were fitted out much as he was now - the heavy
collar, the rings in their tits, the heavy band forcing their genitals to a
prominent display at all times, and marked with various ownership labels of
one type or another - tags through their ears, rings through their noses,
brands on their chest or butt (or often both), or collars with their
owner's name inscribed (usually offering a nice reward if the slave had
strayed away). And, he remembered, every slave he had ever seen was kept
totally naked - that alone denoted a slave's status.  He even remembered in
the church on Sunday there would be naked slaves on leashes accompanying
their master or mistress; it was hard to shop for anything without seeing
naked collared slaves scurrying around; and every municipal event featured
naked slaves everywhere kneeling beside their owner.  And, he shuttered,
slaves were sexually used right in public - ordered to fuck their mistress
in public parties; fucked by their masters right on the street; sucking off
their masters beneath a bar while their owner treated himself to a cool
beer; etc.  That was in Mexico.  Here in the U.S., he didn't know, but,
from what he had overheard so far, gringos had many more slaves at their
disposal; used them with no inhibitions whatsoever; and certainly used
slaves to keep them sexually satisfied, even in public.

     When one of the handlers came to his cage with food and water, Aztec
dared ask the other slave whether gringo masters used their slaves for sex.

     "Are you kidding?" the handsome Greek man laughed.  "Around here,
that's the main job.  You're lucky to belong to Master Holgate.  Most
slaves end up processing the sewage, building the roads, working the
assembly lines.  We Holgate slaves, like you are now, are noted for our
good looks, our nice bodies, and our good sex training. Soon as you heal
up, you'll fit right in - you're one damn good- looking boy.  Where are you
from anyway?  You look like some weird Indian or something with those blue
eyes and amber skin."

     "I'm from Mexico," Aztec responded with a little moan as his upper
brand started to hurt again.

     "What does this 'Aztec' mean branded all over you?" the Greek slave
asked.

     "After the slave catchers caught me, they sold me off as a pure-blood
Aztec, one of the noble peoples of central Mexico many centuries ago.  But
I don't know whether that's true or not, sir," Aztec replied.

     The Greek laughed.  "First, I'm no sir, slave.  I'm a slave just like
you and here for the same purpose primarily - warming someone bed's anytime
they take a fancy to me.  Second, you're not bred to service from your
saying you were captured by slave catchers.  Same with me.  I was free
until I was 16, but my parents died and the police sold me off to a foreign
dealer. Greece doesn't look on the expense of raising orphans as a good
investment - selling them off as slaves is much more profitable, so here I
am.  There's a lot of bred slaves around here in the Holgate holdings, but
a good number of us were once free.  Not that it makes much difference one
way or the other.  We have to be 'broken' to slavery initially as they put
it and the bred's don't - they don't know any different.  But within a few
months, you can't tell a bred slave from a once-free one.  We all jump when
we're told to jump; we all bare our butt hole and an open mouth when that's
what they want; we all fuck just like a mistress wants it; and we all stand
in proper position whenever anyone wants to fondle us.  In this household,
you're primarily a whore, but we do a lot of other things too - keep the
place spotless, tend the gardens, polish the cars, cook and serve the food,
do the laundry - all the basic household chores.  But our main function is
to offer up our bodies whenever they want, doing whatever they want, and
making sure they're damn satisfied with us working our bodies for their
pleasure.  Do all that, and it's not a bad place for a slave.  Sure bets
some other things I've seen slaves bought to do."

     Aztec turned to one side in his cage and saw the Greek had a huge
hard-on as he described his basic duties.

     "Before you eat your chow, I'm getting you out of your cage and giving
you an enema.  Your cage reeks of shit and piss if you haven't noticed and,
after we get your ass all cleaned out, you need to get yourself in the
shower and clean up a bit while I clean out your cage.  Then I'll put some
antiseptic on your brands and where they ringed you and some soothing
lubricant under your new collar and genital band so it won't chaff until
you callous properly.  Once you're all fresh, I'll teach you how to body
shave yourself because Master Holgate wants you as smooth as he keeps me
round the clock. I'd sure like to fuck you after you're all smooth again,
but we're not allowed to fuck each other without the Master's permission,"
the extremely masculine Greek slave said. "Hell, we can't even touch
ourselves without his permission," he joked, "let alone fuck something or
other on our own."

     "You may get a chance," Aztec said contritely, already taking a liking
to the kind and considerate slave Greek slave handler. "Master Holgate told
the slave Driver he could fuck me sometime as a reward."

     "Hmm," the Greek said soberly. "If Driver gets your ass, I don't see
why I can't maneuver it somehow or other."

     "Work on it...... what's your slave name, anyway?" Aztec asked. "I
can't see you well enough in this cage to read it if its branded onto your
body somewhere."

     "El Greco," the Greek said.  "It means 'The Greek' according to the
master and there was a famous Greek painter by that name who lived in
Spain.  Once you're out of that cage, you'll see it branded on me front and
back, just like your new name 'Aztec'."

     "Well, El Greco, as I was saying, work on getting the master's
permission to fuck me.  From the part of you I can see, you're about as
good looking as men get.  And your shaft almost makes me jealous.  It might
feel real good up my ass."

     With that, Aztec was taken out of his cage and saw all of El Greco.
He was even better looking in total than just seeing parts of him. El Greco
led him down to the showers, bent him over for the insertion of the enema
hose, and, once that was completed, left him to shower in the cold water
and crude soap provided in the slave quarters while he cleaned out Aztec's
cage.  When he returned, he very gently applied an antibiotic cream to
Aztec's raw brands and still bleeding swollen tits, rubbed some soothing
lotion under Aztec's tight fitting genital ring and under his even tighter
fitting neck collar and checked to make sure Aztec wasn't infected in
either his burns or his pierced tits.  He then showed Aztec how to body
shave himself in all areas below his eyebrows and then oiled Aztec's body
until it gleamed.

     "You're a handsome boy, you know, Aztec," the Greek commented.  "I can
see why Master Holgate bought you.  And you're hung as heavy as a damn
horse.  Are all Mexican slaves that way?" he inquired.

     "No," Aztec laughed. "But those of us that are sell at a premium
price."

     "Same as in Greece," El Greco chuckled, as he thrust his huge erect
organ out for Aztec to appreciate. "Premium," he added with an engaging
smile as he looked down at his own banded manhood. "God, I'd like to stick
this up that ass of yours," the Greek slave moaned.  "But they'd whip me to
death if I even got this thing one inch up you, let alone fuck you
properly."

     "Work on it," Aztec said with a smile.  "When you get permission from
the master, you're not going to get any resistance from this slaveboy," he
smirked.

     With that, Aztec was put back in his cage to enjoy his slave chow and
complete his healing process and El Greco continued with caring for the
other slaves currently being penned.

     Many levels above them, Master Holgate was busily fucking the newly
purchased black slave who had been chained to a fucking bench in his
bedroom for his convenience.  Although the black slave had been purchased
primarily for his well trained mouth and throat, he was a delight to fuck
as well - not as good as the Mexican slave purchased along with him - but a
damn good fuck anyway. The black had been well trained - he tightened and
loosened his ass appropriately to maximize his user's pleasure, he moaned
appreciatively as he was pumped long and hard, and he expressed grateful
thanks to his user the minute his master had withdrawn from his ass and he
had finished cleaning off his master's tool.

     "You're a keeper, boy," Master Holgate said as he slapped the black
slave's ass in dismissal.  "Now that you're finally learned to orally
service a master properly, I'm glad to see you also picked up some solid
skill in pleasuring with your ass."

     "Thank you, master," the black said, still fastened by the manacles on
his wrists and ankles to the fucking bench.  Cum was flowing out of his ass
and down his thighs.

     The black remained chained to the fucking bench for the next three
hours until the house steward made his rounds and unleashed him with orders
to go down to the slave quarters and clean himself up.  When the black,
stiff from the prolonged chained position, stood up, he was temporarily
dizzy from having his head down below his ass for so long, but quickly
regained his equilibrium and trotted down for the obligatory enema, shower,
and body oiling.  Once that was done, the handler informed him he was
scheduled to entertain one of Master Holgate's business associates that
night and he better make sure his user gave a superlative report on his
cooperation the next morning or he'd be on short rations for a month.

     The black slave assured the handler there would be no problem and
assumed this was to be his life from now on.  That slave was dead right!

     The business associate given the black slave for the night was a woman
well in her fifties, fat, and unattractive. She too was black and generally
preferred stud slaves of her own color who sported exceptionally long,
thick penises which were easy to arouse and stayed hard once aroused.  The
black slave quickly brought her to orgasm with the skillful use of his
mouth and then, on her demand, fucked her through a series of subsequent
orgasms.  After several hours of heavy heaving and pumping (all the time
carefully controlling himself from discharging so he didn't lose his
ardor), the black slave was finally allowed to sleep alongside his
temporary mistress.  When morning came, he again brought her to orgasm with
his trained tongue. The matronly woman gave a glowing report of the
assigned slave's sexual skills to his handler and the black slave got full
rations the next day.

     Life with this new owner would be nothing he couldn't handle if the
past 24 hours had been a sample - only fucked twice, milked once, a few
loads down his throat, some heavy licking, four or five times in the saddle
humping away (under explicit move-by-move instructions), and, oh, he almost
forgot, having his tits and balls played with for a while.  Not bad for a
slave bought for the use of his body - not bad at all!

     But the black slave didn't know he was to receive a name from his new
master, "Sucker." This slave label was to be branded into him just like his
Holgate ownership mark and the branding was scheduled for that very day.