Date: Sun, 17 Dec 2006 05:34:08 -0800 (PST)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: Young Stud, Part Two

YOUNG  STUD

By Pete Brown   petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

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

Part Two

I hate to think how guys who did not have considerate
owners would have fared in the next few days.  Even
with my owner's instructions that I was to have
painkillers and so on, it was still fucking terrible!
It wasn't so much the actual pain as the branding iron
(covered instantly in a thin layer of frost as the
moisture in the air condensed on it as they drew it
out of the vacuum flask of liquid nitrogen) bit into
me, as they'd given me some sort of injection into my
big muscle first.  No, it was the next day, when my
whole ass was throbbing and angry - and my shoulder
ached too from where they'd inserted my chip, rather
like when you've taken a very hard knock on the pitch
and you know you're all bruised.

The tattooing wasn't at all pleasant, either - the
neck and forearm wasn't so bad, I suppose - well, once
the needle got started, I sort of learned to live with
it  But doing the huge black letters on my back was a
real trial - for one thing, it went on for hours.  But
it wasn't only the physical pain that the branding,
tattooing and chipping caused me, but the fact that
I'd had absolutely no choice in this:  I know now how
a farm animal must feel as it's herded along to be
castrated or de-horned or something:  it was just the
same at this place, when me and the other slaves who
had stuff scheduled for them were simply lined up
(naked of course - it made us so much easier to
control with the guards' prods).  I had no choice,
none at all - these things had been ordered for me,
and, like a dumb beast, I was "processed" so that they
were executed.   Still, at least I still had my 'skin
- the poor guy in the next cell to me had his removed,
and he lay there that night quietly sobbing as he
contemplated what had happened to him.  He came and
showed me the surgical bandage around the end of his
dick, with its head and piss slit poking out of the
end.  It had really hurt, he told me, as his owner had
specifically ordered that there was to be no
anaesthetic used.  "The fucker believes that the slave
should remember it", he told me, his voice bitter with
anger.  "He said that whenever I touched my dick in
future I'd remember the pain, and that it would remind
me that I'm totally in his power."

It wasn't all bad though, I suppose - when they ripped
the wax strips off me I shouted out with the momentary
"discomfort", but as I lay there in my bunk I decided
I quite liked the feel of my balls with no hair on
them - they were somehow so lovely and silky as I
stroked them as I began to jerk off, and I wished
someone had told me before that it would be better.
Mind you, I suppose the other guys in the showers
after the match would have made fun of me if they'd
seen me stripped of hair like that.

I almost got used to being naked all the time, too -
well, it seemed almost "natural" as all the guys in
the cells around me were kept like that.  It made it
easy for them to control us as there was so much bare
skin to aim one of their prods at if we were taken out
of our cells.  And housekeeping" was easy, too - once
a day one of the guards moved through the cell lock
with a hose and simply sprayed everything:  us, and
the cells, just as if he was cleaning out cattle pens.


They were clearly experts at what they did, though, as
things like my time on the sunbed were managed to
perfection:  I was always just slightly sore from the
beginnings of sunburn when I was released from them
(yes.... Unlike at fancy clubs and things, I had no
control at all:  they lowered the lid on me, and
locked it down so I had no choice but to lie there for
as long as they decided!).

Still, I was glad when they came for me and curtly
told me to follow them out to reception at the end of
five days - it was so fucking boring stuck in that
cell, and although I could talk to the other guys, we
didn't have all that much to say.  Some of them were
angry at having their freedom taken, some were mostly
silent as they looked as if they might cry at any
moment as they talked about being ripped away from
their wives and kids, and some were just sullen.  Most
of them were in there for really serious stuff -
robberies and such like, and even one guilty of rape,
who was scheduled to be castrated.  They all thought
I'd been fucking stupid to have got caught in what was
basically a student prank, and  I agreed, but it was
too late for that now, wasn't it?

In the reception area  there was my owner, and, as
before, the guy Jeff, who I now knew was a slave, like
me.    One of the guards went through the "work
orders" with my owner, as he carefully inspected my
body to make sure all was in order - peering at my
tattoos and commenting that they were admirably crisp,
then running the tip of one finger along the big 'S'
on my butt:  I flinched as he did this, and he at once
said "Does it hurt still, Steve?"

"No, Boss... But I guess I'm not used to having
someone touch me there...."

He smiled, and it was as if he was sharing some sort
of joke with Jeff as he murmured "We'll soon change
that, won't we?"

He seemed pleased with the chipping, though, and the
guard brought up a small instrument that he waved
around, to show my owner that my chip was responding
properly:  he himself peeled off the small plaster
they'd put on the wound after the thin steel probe had
gone deep into me under my right shoulder  to place
the thing, and said that it was clearly going to heal
totally within a very short time.  But when he reached
down to feel my balls, as the guard said that he
should make sure the waxing had gone OK as they could
not offer refunds after I'd left the building, I
couldn't help it - I jerked backwards, trying to
escape his fingers.

"Easy, boy", he murmured, his eyes locked on mine.
"Just stand still, and this will soon be over.  I'm
not going to hurt you.... I know how sensitive men are
down there... I'm a man too, you know!"

"Boss, it's not that... But I'm not used to being
touched...."

"Time to start learning then, Steve!  Now, spread your
legs a bit to give me better access...."

I did, reluctantly, and felt his warm fingers
caressing me gently.  My dick was resting on the ball
of his thumb as his examination proceeded, and to my
horror I felt myself starting to go erect as my dick
got this stimulation that it wasn't used to.  I could
feel a hot, red, flush spreading all up my neck and
over my face. And it got worse when my owner stood up
straight when he'd finished, looked at Jeff, and said
"This is a 'live' one, Jeff!  Just the merest touch
and he starts to spring a boner!  He's even worse than
you!"

The big man, who'd been watching with interest,
grinned again - he seemed to smile a lot - and nodded.

"He'll do!", my owner said to the guard, and took the
offered clipboard and pen and scribbled his name on
the bottom - I was evidently being "signed for", just
as if I was some sort of piece of goods being
delivered (which, strictly speaking, in some kind of
crazy way  I suppose I was).

"Give the poor boy some clothes, Jeff", my owner then
said, "He looks kind of ashamed at being erect -
although he's no reason to be, given the way he's
hung."

Jeff came forward and handed me a small bundle - there
were some leather "flip flops" on top, and underneath
a kind of athletic vest, and a pair of shorts.  No
underwear or anything.

I scrabbled around and pulled up the shorts, really
glad to be at least minimally covered.  Although it
was pretty minimal - even with the crutch jammed up
tight against my ass crack, the waistband refused to
pull up higher than my hip bones and I felt they were
in danger of slipping down at any moment.  But the
athletic vest was quite loose, allowing plenty air
around my pits, although it was so short that it
didn't come down to meet the top of my shorts and a
strip of my stomach was exposed.  I stood there
tugging awkwardly at this stuff, and then I saw that
Jeff was just the same - his hard, flat stomach was
exposed, too, and the brief shorts, now that I looked
at them more closely, left little to the imagination:
I could see the outline of a very large dick, and
could even make out that he must be cut.

My owner turned and walked out then, and Jeff nodded
at me to walk alongside him to follow.  We went out
into the parking lot, and I felt vaguely self
conscious of the skimpily way in which  I was dressed,
although having Jeff striding alongside me made it a
bit better.  We walked over to a big black SUV that
was positively gleaming in the sunshine, as if it was
freshly polished (as, I was to discover, it was -  one
of the jobs Jeff and I had was to make sure all our
owner's possessions were always in first-class
condition).

As we got to it, our owner said "You drive, Jeff.  And
you, Steve, in the front with him.  I have some work
to do."

We drove along, and as our owner was working - he had
a pile of papers, and his laptop, open on the rear
seat - Jeff pressed his fingers to his lips when I
began to ask a question, and then whispered that the
boss didn't like to be disturbed.  I guess this is why
the radio wasn't on,  either, and so we bowled along
the Interstate in total silence.  It was another
example for me of how my life was changing - I mean,
I'd have been playing a CD, and talking to my buddies;
 but now, because one man wanted silence, all of us
had to comply.

The boss told Jeff to stop at lunchtime at a rest
stop, and he strode into the service building, with
Jeff and me following.  I was desperate to piss now
and went to walk off towards the lavatories, but Jeff
grabbed my arm to hold me back.  Then, when the boss
stopped briefly, he said quietly "Permission to go and
use the facilities, Boss?"

Our owner nodded and told Jeff to meet him at the
SubWay concession, and Jeff nodded to me and we went
off together.

"Hey, do we have to ask about stuff like this?  I
stopped doing that at kindergarten."

"Steve, it's only polite, isn't it?  He's our owner,
and he might have wanted us for something!"

"Yes, but I'm a grown man, I  know when I want to go
for a piss...."

Jeff just shrugged.  "Look, Steve, it's going to be
tough for you, I can tell.  I was like you when I was
enslaved  five years ago.  I was just out of the
marines, so I was used to taking orders, but even so
it was hard to adjust to the regime of being a slave,
where your owner has even more control over your life.
 And we're lucky - the boss is a good owner, from what
I can see:  he treats me like a man most of the time,
and he only punishes me when I've really pissed him
off."

"You were in the marines?  What the fuck are you doing
as a slave?"

"Well I joined the service straight from school, and
it was a great life.  I did three major tours
overseas, real fighting, and then, at twenty five, I
was out! My original time was up, and they wouldn't
renew as there's so much unemployment that they find
it easier to take on young guys straight from school
as they're a lot less trouble - guys like me who
didn't make it to sergeant apparently start to cause
problems as we get older, so it's easier to throw us
out.  But I wasn't used to civilian life of course - I
soon spent my gratuity... women and vacations, mostly
Then when I tried to get a job, well, there aren't any
for guys without a college education any longer.  And
those there were, like labouring, they didn't want me
as they said ex-marines cause problems.  I should have
stopped spending and gone on relief, but I kept
charging stuff to my cards... And, well, I guess the
rest is obvious:  I didn't have the sense to make it
across the border to the North before they began
proceedings to recover their money, and so I was
enslaved to pay off the debt.  But, as I say, I'm
lucky in that the boss saw me when I was on sale, and
bought me, and I've been with him ever since - five
years now."

"But what does he use us for?  Where does he live?"

Jeff went to reply but we were at the facilities now,
and I went to go into the men's room, only to be
pulled back by Jeff who pointed out a third door, next
to the women's, marked "Slaves".

"This is  something else you've got to get used to,
Steve!", he told me.  "Down here the free folk don't
like slaves sharing their facilities - well, not in
public, anyway."

As we went in through the door I gave an almost
audible gasp, as it was a mixed facility.  And clearly
privacy was of no concern to the builders of the
place, as along one wall there was a row of lavatories
(one of which had a really good looking female
squatting on it), and the adjacent wall had urinals
without any of those modesty panels that stop you
taking a peek at another guy's dick.    Jeff totally
ignored the woman and strode over to one of the
urinals and began to piss, and so, feeling really
strange at having a woman watch me like this, I did
the same.

As we went out, Jeff slapped me on the back and was
almost laughing.  "Yes, Steve, life as a slave is a
bit different - we're not meant to be worried about
folk seeing our bodies and such like.  You obviously
haven't spent much time down here in the south..."

"No."

"Well as we drive along and we get into the real
farming country, you'll see that the slaves in the
fields are usually totally naked - men and women both.
 The boss told me that the plantation owners keep them
like that as even the smallest scrap of cloth to cover
their nakedness costs money, so why waste it on a
slave?  And  it's easier to cane or tawse them if they
slack.  But he reckons that most owners who have big
herds of slaves like that keep them naked to make sure
they understand their status now - that they're no
longer men and women, but some sort of animal who is
kept in a herd and worked under the whip, and keeping
them totally exposed emphasises to both them and free
men that they're totally different."

"Men and women together?  All naked?  Jesus Christ....
Doesn't that cause more problems, with fucking?"

"Well, actually not, they say.  There are a lot fewer
women slaves than men, so in a herd they're usually
shared out and used by all the guys - they reckon it
keeps the guys more docile to have free access to a
lot of sex, whenever they want it, with a bit of
variety.... After all, a lot of free guys waste their
time chasing after women I certainly used to - even if
they're married, and now there's sex there whenever
they want it, so more of their energy goes into work.
And then, of course, there are the babies - most of
the women get fucked up and pregnant pretty quick, so
there's a supply of new slaves always being
created...."

"You mean a baby can be born into slavery...."

"It's the biggest source of new slaves now, as illegal
immigration has completely dried up after  they passed
that law that said that all illegals would be
enslaved.  And most free folk aren't having as many
kids, when they know that unless they can give them a
college education they're likely to get into debt as
there's no jobs, and become slaves anyway.  And the
boss has capitalised on that,  I suppose, that's why
we....."

Jeff stopped then as we were back in the main
building, and there was our owner holding a tray with
some SubWays on them.  Jeff hurried over and took the
tray from him, then kind of ushered him over to an
empty table.

We sat together, the boss looking at Jeff and me
opposite him.  And there was another subtle change in
my status - he'd bought stuff for Jeff and me without
asking what we wanted.  But I was hungry and bit into
my sandwich eagerly, only to have Jeff dig his elbow
sharply into my ribs as evidently, I was supposed to
wait until the boss began eating before I could tuck
in.

I don't like chillies all that much, and after one
mouthful opened up my sandwich to pick the remainder
out.  Jeff dug me in the ribs again and I muttered
"What....?", and Jeff hissed back "Eat what you're
given, Steve.  The boss has chosen it."

The boss was smiling faintly as he heard Jeff
instructing me like this, and leaned across to me.
"He's right, Steve.  Just watch what Jeff does, and
you won't go far wrong.  I've spent a lot of time
training him in the ways I like a slave to behave, and
he's had quite a few stripes across his ass as he
learned those lessons.  If you watch and listen to
Jeff, and are properly attentive, you'll avoid a lot
of unnecessary suffering."

I wanted to ask him what the fuck he thought he was
doing making me eat stuff I hated, but thought better
of it until I understood more, and instead just put my
sandwich down.  Jeff noticed this, though, and
muttered to me, as if he was hoping the boss wouldn't
hear, "No, eat up, Steve, you've got to keep your
strength up, and the boss likes us to eat up
everything he buys for us."

Hating it, I did as I was told, though, and finished
my sandwich.  We went to get up from the table but I
hesitated, then said "Boss, please, could I call my
folks to let them know where I am?"

"No, of course not."

"Please, boss... They'll be worried about me.  And I'm
sure you could call collect.... And dad will be down
here very quickly - he'll certainly reimburse you for
the money you've spent...."

"I said no, Steve.  No means 'no', and I don't like my
slaves to argue with me."

"But boss, that's unreasonable.  You could even make a
profit...."

"Listen, Steve, and this is the last time I will tell
you.  Do not argue with me.  And don't ever think
again of criticising me!  I'm your owner, don't you
understand that?  And what I say goes.  We will not be
calling your parents, not now, not ever.  When you
were enslaved all family ties were broken, and you are
no longer anyone's son - your only status is that of a
slave, to me.  And in any case, I do not plan to sell
you:  young men like you are a rarity, as most men of
your age have the good sense to stay out of trouble
down here in the South:  if I were to sell you to your
father, I would have to go to all the trouble of
finding a replacement, and, frankly, I have better
things to do with my time.  So I want to hear no more
of this - the next time you raise the subject, you
will be punished."

I went to speak again, but Jeff took my arm gently and
shook his head, and I kind of got the message.   We
walked back to the SUV, Jeff and me two paces behind
the boss, and we were soon bowling along the
Interstate again, once more in silence. I have to
confess I felt myself dozing off - to wake up, of
course,  with a woody really pushing at my skimpy
shorts and making me feel really uncomfortable - it's
funny how a lot of riding does that to you, isn't it?
But mid-afternoon we turned off, went along some minor
roads to a most upmarket looking kind of semi-rural,
semi-suburban place, and then in through a pair of
impressive gates to drive up to a large, expensive
looking mansion.

Jeff parked the SUV neatly and then went and stood by
it, clasping his hands behind his back and bending his
head slightly, and telling me to do the same.  We
stood there as the boss went up to the front door and
rang the bell, then went inside, to emerge some
minutes later with another guy dressed in those kind
of very expensive looking "casual" clothes, which, in
reality, are anything but, having cost a whole lot
more than most people spend on formal attire.

"This is Jeff", the boss said, pointing to him, "The
one you booked.  But I've got a new boy since then,
Steve here.... I could offer his services at a
slightly reduced price, as he's not yet fully
experienced and not properly tested.  What he lacks in
experience I suppose he'll make up for in enthusiasm,
though - do you remember how you were in your late
teens?"

The man looked at me intently, but shook his head.
"No, I particularly wanted a blond, and although this
new boy is very good looking, I'll stick with the
original order.  So why don't you come on in...."

"Would you object if I brought the new boy, too?  I
want him to get as much experience as soon as
possible, and watching Jeff would be the start of his
training", the boss asked.

"No, sure, the more the merrier!  My own son's just
back from college, and he's coming along too as he
says it's so boring here and he needs amusing."

We trooped through the hallway of the mansion,
"tastefully" furnished in mock-Colonial period
"antiques", and through a door at the end which,
judging by the way the decor changed to one of stark
simplicity, presumably marked the demarcation between
the free men's part of the house and the servants' (or
slaves'?) quarters.

We went on into the huge kitchen, where there was
another guy, about my own age and therefore presumably
the first man's son, who was chatting - almost
flirting, I suppose - with a Mexican-looking girl who
was stunning:  really sexy looking.  As she turned to
bow  to the man, though, I saw she had a number
tattooed on her shoulder, and so knew that she was a
slave.

The man snapped at her "OK, Rosita, you know what
we're all here for - strip off."

Looking nervously around at the five of us men
standing there, the poor girl began to remove her
uniform.  As her pert breasts appeared I could feel my
erection pressing so hard at my shorts that it was
almost painful.  I could see the young college guy was
in the same condition as his immaculately cut chinos
were bulging too, and although I couldn't see Jeff, I
supposed he must be in the same state.

"Do you want the full performance, or shall I tell
Jeff just to get on with it?", the boss asked as the
girl's uniform finally slid to the floor and she was
standing there in just her panties.

The house owner put his arm around the shoulders of
his son, and said to the boss "Well I guess we may as
well have the full show.... Randy here spends enough
time looking at this stuff on his PC, and we may as
well enjoy the real thing."

"You heard the client, Jeff!  Do your stuff....", the
boss commanded.

In a single fluid movement, almost surprising
considering his size and bulk, Jeff pulled his singlet
off so he was just in his tight shorts, and almost
slid across the room to wrap one big hairy arm around
the girl, pull her to him so that her breasts were
flattened against his hairy chest, and began to kiss
her passionately - no fumbling around with the lips,
we could see his tongue was right in and straight down
her throat!  The girl seemed to at first try to
struggle to stop Jeff, but as his hands began to roam
up and down her body, stopping to caress her breasts
and play with her big dark nipples, her stifled cries
started to turn into moans of pleasure, and her legs
began to rub up and down Jeff's muscular thighs as she
got turned on.

After a few minutes of this sensual stroking, Jeff
paused briefly and almost tore off his shorts, and we
saw his big thick cock spring up nearly vertical - and
there was already a jewel of pre-cum dribbling out of
his piss slit.  He started to kiss and fondle her
again, but now he was rubbing his dick up and down her
sweating body, and as he did so she threw her head
back, moaning in ecstasy... A movement that caused
Jeff's head to go down and he began to nibble her ears
and bite at her neck.   Jeff was in complete control
of his body, though, as without faltering in his
pleasuring of the woman, one hand snaked down and
casually pushed her panties down, so we were all
treated to the sight of her trimmed bush and inviting
slit.  His big hand almost immediately covered it, and
we could see his fingers making their way in, as her
cries of pleasure redoubled.

He fucked her then - first pushing her gently back
onto the kitchen table, then as his hands continued to
roam over her body, he positioned himself between her
legs and slid his cock into her.  We were then treated
to the wonderful sight of Jeff's big, strong, muscled
body pumping away, the "S" on his butt almost seeming
to emphasise the tremendous power that his thighs were
able to exert as he continued.

Apart from the noise that Jeff and the girl were
making, you could have heard a pin drop in the room -
me, the boss, the house owner and his son were all
standing there almost stupefied, and had all but
stopped breathing as we focussed all our attention at
this spectacle taking place in front of us.  Our ears
were assailed by the noises of passion, and our noses
by the smell of Jeff's sweat that was now streaming
down his back.  But then it was over, of course, and
Jeff slumped forward, taking his weight on his elbows
to avoid crushing the girl, as her legs wrapped
themselves around his waist as if to attempt to lock
him in her.

"Wow!", the home owner said to the boss.  The
neighbours told me you had the best, and I was a bit
reluctant, even so, to pay the fee.... But having seen
that, I reckon I've got a bargain:  if the progeny is
anything like the father, I'll have a really good
pup!"

"Yes, dad", Randy cut in.  "And if we'd gone to a porn
house somewhere to watch that, you'd have paid as much
in entrance fees.... And we wouldn't have been so
close to the action."

"We aim to please!", the boss cut in.  "I don't
advertise, and depend entirely on 'word of mouth'
recommendations - so please do suggest me to any of
your friends, colleagues and neighbours who need to
get their bitches into pup.  Now I've bought my second
stud, I need some new clients."

The father and son both turned to look at me, and
Randy said "So this slave here is for hire, too?"

"Yes", the boss replied, " But he's not started yet.
But if Jeff's studding doesn't take, we could swing
past next month, and by then I'm sure he'll be ready.
I don't charge for a re-try, as I think I explained to
you.  But as we're building the business, I'll let you
select which of them you want to use if we have to do
a re-try.... Or perhaps both of them, just to make
sure.... If you don't mind a dark haired sire?"

"Well, perhaps I'll take you up on that offer, if we
have to", the house owner almost chortled.  "But I'd
think that after an epic session like that, Rosita
would almost certainly be knocked up.", then turning
to the maid, still under Jeff's body, he said "OK,
Rosita, come on, it's all over now...."

"Excuse me, sir....", the boss interjected.  "But if
you'll be guided by me, you'll leave my slave in her
for a few more minutes - he's probably still trickling
his juices out as his cock shrivels, and, anyway, it
blocks things off and stops his cum escaping:  I like
to leave them for at least ten minutes to maximise the
probability of it taking!"

"Oh, sure.... You're the expert.  In the meantime, can
we take a look at your new man?  I hadn't thought of
using a dark-haired stud on Rosita, with her having
those very Mexican looks, but your boy perhaps isn't
too dark...."

The boss turned to me, and as if it was the most
natural thing in the world, said "Strip off, Steve."

I felt myself panicking.  "Please....", I muttered
frantically, well aware that my dick was rock hard,
and not wanting to expose myself to them all,
especially not in that state.  As it was, it was
pretty embarrassing that my shorts were so strained -
especially as, when I looked down, I saw a damp patch
on them where I must have been leaking as I watched
Jeff!

The boss's eyes locked onto mine.  "Now, Steve, don't
be silly!  I'd hate to have to punish you tonight.
Come on, now, strip off - I know you've got absolutely
nothing to be ashamed of - that's why I bought you,
after all."

I looked around desperately, but there was no escape,
no hope for me.  I knew he'd have me caned or whipped
or something...  so reluctantly, feeling my cheeks
burning with embarrassment, I pulled off my singlet,
and then, praying that my erection would subside, I
started to push my shorts down - no hope, though, as
the moment it was free of the confines of the shorts,
my dick was upright.

"Hey, dad, the slave's still got a foreskin!", Randy
exclaimed.

"Isn't that a bit unusual?", the man in turn enquired
of the boss.

"Perhaps so.  It's true that most slaves are 'skinned,
and Jeff is of course, as when I bought him a few
years ago that was the custom, especially for men in
his line of work.  But these days.... Well, I think
that some potential hirers might like to see how a
male pup would look if he breeds true - so I'm
thinking of leaving Steve here natural.  And, after
all, we get so used to seeing niggas naked, and they
are universally 'skinned as far as I know, that it's
somehow additionally exciting to see a 'skin on a
slave."

"...as if seeing a white slave naked isn't exciting
enough already", Randy added.  He looked me carefully
up and down, even reaching out and half turning me
around so he could see my rear.  "Hey, Dad, this slave
is kind of cute - if it wasn't for that big 'S' on his
butt, I'd have taken him for one of the guys on my
team if I saw him in the showers.  Perhaps we ought to
use him next time, and I'll get some of my buddies
around and make a real party of it.  Most of them are
always bragging about how good they are at fucking,
and it would be kind of interesting to see if they
shut up once they'd seen a professional at work."

I ought to have been used to being naked, ought to
have been used to having men discussing my body by
now, but somehow having this guy do it, someone my own
age, who was at college as I had been, made it
especially humiliating.

The house owner and the boss then needed to go off and
sort out details of payments for Jeff's services , and
Jeff and I were left standing there with the son,
Randy.    Jeff asked politely if there was somewhere
he could wash up, or at least if he could use some of
the paper towels in the kitchen to clean himself up a
bit, but Randy replied "Hang on there a bit - I'd like
to compare you two slaves."

Jeff and I looked at each other questioningly, but
Randy seemed to know what he wanted as he ordered
"Stand back to back, so I can look at your heights.
Jeff and I moved to obey, but he then said "No, press
your butts and your shoulders together, as I want to
compare you properly."

Well, that was really the first time I'd ever been in
such close contact with another guy.  I could feel
Jeff's butt, still moist with all the sweat he'd
generated, pressing into mine, and there was a very
curious sensation as our shoulder blades pressed
against each other.  I could feel myself beginning to
get an erection again, and desperately fought against
it.

"Interesting", Randy remarked generally, not
particularly to us, but as a kind of comment to
himself. "The older  one is slightly taller, but
they're both the same proportions:  longish legs, and
bodies much the same."  Then, raising his voice, he
went on, now clearly intended for us, "OK, now face
each other - I want to see who has the biggest dick.
The young one is erect already, but you, the stud who
just fucked Rosita - I want to see you with it boned
up again.  Can you do that?"

I felt sure Jeff would object - I mean, a young
college boy oughtn't to be able to order someone to
bone up, should he?  Especially not when the other guy
is a fit, tough ex-marine?  But even as I thought
this, I heard Jeff say  "Sure, yes, sir", clearly not
at all embarrassed about what he'd been asked to do.

I really didn't want to do this, but Jeff put one hand
on my shoulder, whether to "encourage" me, or to
"steady" me, I don't know.  I could see the sweat
glistening on his body, on his face, and his hair was
all wet, too, as he faced me.  That special scent of
sex, the odd mixture of Jeff's sweat, his cum, and the
woman's juices, came up to me as we faced each other.
Then Jeff began to shuffle forward, until the tip of
my dick kind of "docked" in the remains of his pubic
hair just to the side of his dick.  A kind of thrill
went through me - not just the physical one from
feeling the tip of my dick actually touch another
guy's pubes - but one of pure eroticism at the thought
that this was somehow wicked, but at the same time,
very exciting.  My erection stiffened, so it was
almost painful.

Randy gave a sort of chuckle.  Almost to the air,
rather than to us, he muttered "I thought so!  The
older one has a thicker dick, but the younger one's
got a longer one."

I was flushing with embarrassment as he now told me to
face towards him, then came and stood next to me and
reached down to take my erect dick in his hand - I can
distinctly remember how his palm and fingers felt warm
and moist as they curled around me.  His thumb was
fiddling with my 'skin, and he stroked it back so that
my moist head was fully exposed.  "I've always wanted
to do that to another guy", he murmured now, his
breathing coming in little short bursts as he was
clearly so excited.  "All the guys at college stand
there in the showers and I've always wanted to see
what their heads look like, but of course you don't
dare touch them, do you?  And it's so rare to get a
slave with a 'skin..... Yes, next time you come by,
I'm definitely going to get dad to choose you to stud
the maids!"

"Anyway", he went on, "You two can get dressed now and
go outside and wait for your owner."

"Thank you, sir", Jeff responded promptly, but I just
stood there silent, amazed at what had just happened
to me:  Randy was a college guy, just as I had been.
And now he was standing there ordering Jeff and me to
do all this stuff with each other, and 'skinning me
back.  It didn't seem right, not right at all.  But,
as ever, Jeff seemed to be cheerily in charge as he
pulled his shorts on, and then gave me a playful slap
on my ass, telling me cheerily to "Get a move on, as
the boss doesn't like to be kept waiting."

I wanted to ask Jeff what the fuck was going on, but
as we walked back to the SUV, there was the boss.  As
usual, Jeff and I got into the front and the boss sat
in the back, and the boss told Jeff to drive off,
giving him instructions as to where we were going to
be stopping for the night.  Then, after a few minutes,
the boss leaned forward and patted Jeff on his
shoulder.  "That was good, Jeff - an excellent
performance, if I may say so."

"Thank you, boss."

"Didn't you think so, Steve?" The boss then asked.

"Boss... Well... I suppose so...."

"I thought you were experienced at fucking!"

"Well I am, boss, but, well, you know....."

"Yes?"

"....well, kind of in private."

"It's just the same physical action though, isn't it,
Steve?"

"Well yes, of course...."

"...and have you ever fucked anyone the way Steve just
did?"

"Well yes, boss."

"So tell me, then - what did you think of his
performance?  You were clearly very excited by it, as
I could see you were boned up....."

"It was pretty good, I guess...."

"Could you do as well, Steve?"

"I don't think so, boss.... I couldn't fuck in public
like that...."

Jeff laughed then, and turned briefly to look at me.
"I used to think that, Steve!  And now look at me."

"He's right, Steve", the boss added.  "It's tough the
first few times you do it, but once you've lost your
inhibitions,  it gets easy.  And, as you can see, Jeff
enjoys it."

"Boss, please, you can't expect me to do that kind of
stuff in front of other people..."

"And why not?  Jeff does, and you're a slave, just
like he is.  Remember, Steve,  a slave shouldn't feel
any embarrassment, or any shame, at doing something
his owner commands him to do.  There's absolutely
nothing wrong with you fucking a slave bitch in front
of others if I tell you to - you might not have done
that to your girlfriend when you were a free man, but
that was then, and this is now.  Slaves obey."

"But boss, it isn't right.... What about my right to
privacy - that's a basic human right.  And you can't
say that having to fuck in public isn't 'private'...."

"I don't, Steve!  But human rights are just that -
something humans have.  And you're a slave, not a
human any longer:  slaves are considered by the law to
be like animals - they mustn't be unnecessarily
cruelly treated, but other than that, they have no
'rights'.  Rights are things that men have, Steve -
think about the Declaration Of Independence.... It
refers to the self-evident rights of men, doesn't it?
Not the self-evident rights of slaves!"

"But Boss...."

"No 'buts', Steve.  That's the way it is for slaves,
and, as I said, once you've got used to it, you'll
start to enjoy it, just as Steve does.  But I'm not an
inconsiderate owner, am I, Jeff?"

Jeff at once added "No, Boss, definitely not!"

"...so, Steve, we'll break you into your new role
gently.  You can work alongside Jeff tomorrow as it's
a big place we're hired for and the owner doesn't
generally want to watch - it's just the nigga bitches
on the place who he wants 'covered', and you and Jeff
can go at it together - working with Jeff you'll soon
get the hang of it:  he'll teach you all the tricks of
the trade that you might not have picked up from your
girlfriends and from talking to your buddies."

"But Boss, what is it we really do?"

"I'd have thought that was obvious!  I hire you out to
'stud' slave bitches.  A lot of owners want a white
slave to cover their bitches as they're looking to
make their herds lighter.  So you mostly fuck the
nigga bitches to get them pregnant.  We are a kind of
service, like blacksmiths used to be in olden times,
travelling around from place to place, supplying our
services wherever they're needed.  I've built up a
good reputation with Jeff here, and I'm looking to you
to continue that."

The boss relaxed in his seat then, and, looking over
my shoulder, I saw he had dozed off after a few
minutes.

"Jeff", I whispered, "Tell me this isn't real.... You
don't have to fuck like that every day, do you?"

"No, that was pretty unusual - and a nice change, to
have a really good-looking girl like that.  It's
usually the nigga bitches, as the boss said.... And
some of them are young and OK, but a lot of them are
almost old enough to be your mother, if they're good
breeders.  It's not so much fun then - more like a job
of work."

"But why...."

Jeff lowered his voice so that he was barely audible,
as he clearly didn't want to wake the boss, and
beckoned to me to lean close to him in the seat.  "As
I understand it, from odd scraps of stuff I've
overheard when the boss has been on the phone and so
on, he was a very successful lawyer, in corporate law,
in some big fancy law firm in New York, with a huge
apartment in the city and a place in the Hamptons...
the works.  Then he and his wife divorced.... It's not
clear why, and who was at fault.... But the boss seems
to be pretty upset about it still.  He decided to do
her out of any of the settlement the Court ordered by
selling the apartment and the house for a pittance,
and simply quitting work!  So no assets to give her,
no income to be shared.... And he decided to do what
he'd always wanted to do - just to travel around the
country, with no responsibilities, stopping where he
wanted.....  He needed some income, of course, so he
hit on the idea of having a good-looking white slave
and selling my services as a stud to pay the
bills.....  It's all cash, of course, so nothing for
his wife to get her claws into, he says."

"...and so now me, too?"

"I guess so.  He told me he was on the lookout for
another well-built, good-looking white slave, and I
guess he found you.  But don't worry about it - you
like women, don't you?  So once you get over your
silly inhibitions, it's pretty much a fun job... As
much sex as you want.... Well, more than you want,
most days.... No responsibilities, no worries, good
food, seeing new places...."

"But Jeff, we're fucking... Breeding... Leaving kids
around everywhere!"

"So?  Isn't that what men are designed to do, Steve?"

In some kind of weird, twisted logic, I suppose he was
right.  But I was worried about the next day, and
asked Jeff more, until he gave me a quick glance, with
one of those smiles of his playing on his face, and he
said calmly "Look, buddy, don't worry about it - I've
been to the place we're going to tomorrow before, and
we're pretty much left to ourselves:  just us, and the
bitches.  I'll show you the ropes, get you broken
in.... By tomorrow night you'll wonder why you were
ever worried about doing perfectly natural things in
public."

End Of Part Two