Date: Fri, 23 Aug 2002 03:41:34 -0700 (PDT)
From: Bill <bil47_new@yahoo.com>
Subject: Chesapeake Boy, 2203AD - Part 2

With eyes downcast, Billy walked slowly up the gangplank of a big
two-masted Bay schooner. His thoughts were a swirling muddle of
fear and sadness and uncertainty.  A tug on the cloth-covered
brass collar around his neck reminded him to keep up with the
slave in front of him, to whom Billy was attached by a 4-foot
length of chain.  Billy's eyes focused on the neck of the whitey
slave, encircled by a thick bare-metal collar, to which the chain
was attached by a new-looking padlock. An identical lock chafed
at the front of Billy's neck.

The boy tried to avoid looking at the gruesome cross-hatching of
whip scars on the man's bare back.  Whenever he did, a chill ran
through his body, and he thought he might begin to cry again.

"Hurry it up, you damned whities," grumbled one of the
longshoremen behind them, who was carrying a wooden trunk on his
shoulder. Like everyone else on the ship and in the harbor, the
longshoreman had brown skin, wavy black hair, and a broad nose.
The pale complexions and straight blond hair on Billy and his
fellow slave were rarely seen in these parts.

The massive depopulation and societal collapse brought about by
the Global Plague of 2003 had radically changed the racial mix of
the entire population in this area... a place once known as the
Eastern Shore of Maryland. For reasons little understood then,
and completely forgotten now, the genetically-engineered plague
struck people of European descent much harder than those of other
races.  Over the past 200 years, the so-called white race had
been homogenized out of existence. Pockets of pure-blood whites
were still found out in the Appalachian Mountains, to the west of
the civilized region.  And sometimes a genetic throw-back -- like
Billy -- would be born to brown parents, but with the
characteristics of a white ancestor.

Supervising the procession up the gangplank was the slave-seller
who had just purchased Billy's indenture... the document that
bound him to servitude until his 18th birthday.  Billy and the
other slave were directed to a room down in the ship's hold where
there were crude wooden benches along each wall, with sets of
open shackles chained to the floor every few feet and metal rings
bolted to the wall at neck level. Billy scanned the room and
figured that 30 slaves could be held in the room, but there
were just the two of them on this voyage. The merchant directed
the two slaves to click shackles onto their ankles. Then he put a
key in the padlock on Billy's slave-collar, removed the chain,
and ran it through a ring on the wall. Then he doubled the chain
up on the buck-slave's collar, tethering him to the wall on a
2-foot leash.

"Don't get too comfortable, boy," he said to Billy; "I'm bringing
you up to my cabin as soon as we're under way."

When the merchant had left, Billy sat in silence, looking
occasionally at the silent man beside him. Finally, he could
suppress his curiosity no longer. "What's your name, mister?
Where you from?"

The man stared at the boy with a blank, lifeless expression for
long moments, making Billy feel even more hopeless and scared.
A fearsome scar ran from his hairline to his chin. Finally his
face creased into a slight smile, and life came into his eyes.
Then he spoke, in a low tone and in a voice that was accented
unlike any that Billy had ever heard.

"Best keep our talk low.  Master don't take kindly to slaves
talking amongst theyselves.  But I'll answer your questions best
I can... til Master comes back. They call me Cicero; it's a
danged slave-name that my first owner gave me.  Afore then, I
was Jeremiah Hatfield. But that was a long time ago, afore the
raiding party took me."

"My name's Billy Mfume. Do you think, Mr. Cic.... uh, I mean Mr.
Hatfield... you think they'll give ME a new name too?"

"Naw, young'un. You're what they call an indentured slave. Heard
Master talkin' to the merchant that sold you. They don't
generally rename your type. Life-term slaves like me though...."

"I saw you at the fairgrounds.... We look kinda the same, don't
we."

"Aye, lad. You're as white as any of my people from the western
mountains."

"You say they captured you?" said Billy with an expression of
wonder.  Then sadness passed over his face as he added "My Pa...
he...  he sold me for money to pay the taxes." Billy was still
trying to comprehend how Pa could have squandered the family's
money, and then gone and sold his younger son into servitude.

"Aye; captured. I made the mistake of arrogance and carelessness,
Billy.  I was fool enough to think that a whitey like me could
farm the bottom-land along the Potomac River and be left alone by
the brown folk from the East. Well, I was wrong.  Shoulda stayed
up in the mountain hollows with my own people. The raiders caught
me while I planting... gave me this here cut across my face in
the fight... and took my wife and daughter too. They said we was
illegal squatters on land owned by the guv'ment of Washington.
If'n you don't know it already, whenever a whitey gets caught up
with the Brown Man's law, seems like the penalty's always a
lifetime with one of these collars around his neck.  You ask me,
it's just a way for the guv'ment to make money from the slave
auctions... and for the brown aristocrats to get more bodies to
work their plantation fields, and slave-women for their beds.

"So anyhow, ain't seen my wife or child since the sale at the
Washington City slave auction. My little girl was only 5 then,
and we was all sold separate. I been tryin' to escape off and on
for... oh round about 6 years.  And you can see from the stripes
on my back what it's gotten me."

"Gosh," muttered the boy in a low voice. "That's terrible...."

The man put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Let me give you some
advice, Billy.... Just because your folks sold you, that don't
mean its right.  Slavery's an unnatural condition for the human
soul.  But for now, you best do what you're told. You'll be a
free man eventually, so just go along with this evil as best you
can. Don't be stupid and get yourself whipped for nothing. But
don't never let yourself start thinking it's proper, what they's
doing to you.  Hear?  You keep your pride, even if you have to
hide it down deep inside you.  But if'n they mistreat you bad...
or you can't no longer tolerate the things the Brown Man makes
you do... then you think up a good plan, and when the time's
right, you skedaddle.  Head for the western mountains, where
white folks can live in freedom.  Try to get north, to the banks
of the Potomac River, and follow it all the way up til it's a
bitty stream. There's good folk in the mountains -- whities just
like you and me -- who'll take you in.  Understand?"

"But Mr. Hatfield, should I...."

Footsteps sounded on the steps down to the hold, and the
conversation stopped immediately. The slave merchant came in,
carrying the brass key ring that hung outside the door and
unlocked the shackles holding Billy's ankles. The youngster
followed the man up to the deck and saw that the ship had pulled
away from the harbor and entered the broad Choptank River, its
sails catching the light breeze of the late afternoon. Across the
deck, down another set of steep steps, and along a narrow
corridor, they came to the merchant's tiny cabin. When they were
both inside, the man pushed the lock closed and sat on the
narrow bunk, as Billy stood in front of him.

"Alright, boy; lesson number one," he said in a gruff business-
like voice. "You're a slave.  For the next 5 years and however
many months, you are owned by your master. Right now, that's me.
Soon it'll be someone else. Regardless who it is, you address
that man as 'Master' every single time. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," said Billy timidly.

The man's open hand slapped the boy hard across the side of his
head, almost knocking him over.

"Not too bright, are you, boy. Not 'yes, sir.' The response is
'yes, MASTER'. Understand?"

"Y-yes, m-m-master," stammered Billy, struggling to keep from
crying.

"That's better. As I was saying, your master owns you... totally.
He owns your mind, body, and soul.  Anything he orders you to
do... ANYTHING... you do without hesitation. If you displease
your master, you get punished.  Simple as that. Don't go thinking
that because the ownership papers say 'indentured servant' on
them that you'll any less a slave than a life-term buck like that
Cicero fella down in the hold.  Until you serve out your
contract, you're no different."

The man reached into his big wooden truck and pulled out a
leather riding crop.

"See this, boy?  Hold out your left hand, palm up."

"Y-yes, Master," said Billy, staring at the 18-inch crop.
Feelings of apprehension threatened to overwhelm him.

SLAP! The tip of the riding crop whipped down on his open palm.
It felt like a hornet-sting to Billy, and tears immediately
formed in his eyes, though he kept his hand extended.

"You can put your hand down.  This-here tool is for when I'm a
little displeased with a slave... like when I think he's not
trying hard enough.  A few dozen swats with this thing on your
bare backside might make you more attentive to what I'm trying to
teach you, don't you think, boy?"

"Oh, YES, Master!" said Billy, trying to emphasize his
willingness to please, even as he wiped away the tears from his
cheeks.

The man set the riding crop down and again reached into the
trunk.  He pulled out a whip of braided black leather, 4 feet
long.  When the slaver flicked his arm quickly, the whip made a
loud snapping sound. The tip struck an unlit candle in a nearby
wall-sconce, and a chunk of wax flew across the room.

"You know the scars on the back of that dim-witted Cicero?"

Billy could hardly make his voice work, but he croaked out the
words "Yes... Master."

"I'd use this-here whip on a slave's back when I'm truly angry.
You'd NEVER make me angry at you... would you, boy?"

"Oh, NO, Master! Never!"

"Just wanted to let you know where you stand, boy. Now, let's see
what you look like under those filthy clothes of yours... and see
how obedient you are.  Put your hands above your head."

"Yes, Master," said the boy, almost eagerly, as he saw the whip
go back into the trunk and the riding crop onto a bed-side shelf.
He held his arms up straight as the man walked over to him.

The merchant pulled Billy's rough canvas shirt off over his head
with one tug and sat down on the bunk.  Billy could almost feel
the man's gaze exploring his body.

"Clasp you hands together behind your neck, boy."

"Yes, Master," he repeated automatically as he instantly obeyed,
entwining his fingers and spreading his elbows to the sides.

The man pulled the boy up close to him and let his hands wander
over Billy's torso... shoulders, chest, arms, back.  He smiled as
his fingertips teased the barely-visible tan nipples into tiny
nubs. Then he leaned forward and licked at each nipple as the boy
stood at attention. Looking up into Billy's eyes, the man saw a
degree of embarrassment, but the lad showed no sign of resisting.
That was a good start.  He ran his fingers along the soft
hairless skin of Billy's exposed armpit... then brought his nose
close to inhale the scent... then licked at the salty dried
boy-sweat.  Billy sought unsuccessfully to suppress a ticklish
giggle.  The slaver was so intoxicated by the subtle richness of
the boy's musk that he moved over to the silky skin beneath the
other arm and repeated the actions.

The merchant's hands then went to the boy's belt -- a length of
sturdy rope -- and loosened the knot.  With his hands holding up
the over-sized trousers on each side of Billy's waist, he
gradually lowered them, uncovering the boy's lower belly, then
his hairless pubic region, then the base of the flaccid penis.
The man loved to draw out this part of his ritual... uncovering a
boy's pleasure parts ever-so-slowly. It was a demonstration of
the slave's submission... and it was so damned-much fun besides.
He glanced again into the 12-year-old's face and saw Billy's
cheeks blushing a rosy red. But the man could tell there would be
no resistence... no crying.

He let the trousers drop to the floor, exposing a penis of very
pleasing proportions and a short foreskin that allowed the tip of
the boy's cock-head to peek out. Billy's maturing balls were
bigger than the man had anticipated, and hung down in a sack that
was neither boyishly compact nor particularly low-hanging.  The
overall package made a splendid appearance indeed!

The merchant was increasingly optimistic about an easy and
profitable sale at auction when they pulled into the port city
the next day.  The lad would likely be bought by one of the
fancier boy-brothels... though it was possible that a wealthy man
might be looking for a pretty young white boy as his concubine.

The slaver thought it unlikely he'd be sold to one of the
workingmen's brothels... where he'd spend his days and nights in
a dank room the size of this ship-cabin, serving customers who
had paid a dime for a quick round of suck-and-fuck.  That was the
kind of place where a busy night might find a line of rowdy,
drunken men congregating outside the boy's room, waiting their
turn for a fuck... where some extra money paid to the proprietor
allowed a customer to get as rough as he wanted with a boy-whore.
But these places -- the kind of whorehouse the slaver had
patronized numerous times -- didn't usually bid the kind of money
that the merchant was hoping to get for Billy.

Of course, in order to fetch a top price the lad would need to
display some talent for sex-work.  A brothel-owner or a wealthy
aristocrat would certainly want to check him out before bidding
lavishly. But there was all night... and the morning too... to
teach the lad some basics.  And the slaver had always thoroughly
enjoyed this sort of instruction.

Billy flinched slightly as the merchant's fingertips came up
beneath his balls, lifting them as if gauging their weight,
teasing the soft skin and feeling each testicle. His fingers
moved up to fondle the soft penis, and for a long moment the boy
seemed incapable of pulling air into his lungs. Billy looked down
to watch as his foreskin was slid back and forth across the
reddish glans, as the man's other hand reached around to caress
the boy's baby-smooth ass.

Billy was deeply embarrassed, and his cheeks burned with a hot
glow.  He didn't want the man to think that he was enjoying
this... but at the same time, he couldn't suppress the stirrings
of pleasure in his crotch.  It seemed humiliating for his body
proclaim that this stranger's touch was so arousing, he knew that
a worse fate awaited if he were to resist.  Billy's brain
attempted to keep his penis from going stiff, but within few
moments the man's masturbating strokes had brought Billy's cock
to a rigid 4-inch boner... and his face blushed an even deeper
shade of crimson.

"Hmmm... excellent! Nice and plump for a young one," murmured the
man to himself. Then to Billy: "Turn around and let me see your
back."

"Yes, sir... I mean, MASTER!" said the boy as he turned, hands
still behind his head.

"Ever been whipped or caned?" asked the slaver, as his right hand
explored every square inch of the boy's back and buttocks.  (His
left hand was curled around Billy's slender waist as he continued
fondling the boy's erection).

"No, Master!" He didn't mention that Pa had spanked him bare-
handed whenever he got caught doing something naughty.

"Good.... Lay across my lap, boy. Face-down."

Billy allowed himself to be positioned with his legs straddling
the merchant's right thigh... his torso extending diagonally back
onto the bunk to the man's left.  A strong arm held the boy
securely, and Billy's right leg was trapped between the man's
closed thighs.  Billy trembled slightly and his body tensed. This
was similar to the position in which Pa spanked him.

The slaver took a deep breath... aroused as always by this part
of the breaking-in... a ritual that he performed on every young
slave-boy he acquired. His right hand gently explored the
slender rounded ass that rose up so invitingly as he lifted his
knee slightly.  And he thoroughly enjoyed the feeling of Billy's
erection pressed firmly against his thigh.

"A slaveboy with your looks can have an easy life... if you play
it right and do everything I tell you. I imagine the farmers and
watermen round where you grew up told you that whitey boys are
ugly... but I'll tell truthfully that city folks these days find
your type to be right sexy.  You're going to sell for a good
price, boy, and your new master will likely treat you well.  But
you need to do whatever it takes to please your master... being a
sexy little slut for him.  Your job will be to pleasure a man
completely... to satisfy him in ways he's never even though of."
Billy heard the man spit and then felt a wet finger touch his
clenched anal opening.  The digit slowly pushed in.  Billy's mind
swirled with emotions and feelings... fear, tension... and, yes,
the pleasure from his stiff cock as it rocked on the man's leg.
And he thought about the previous night, when Martin's finger had
been in the same secret place as the man's was now.

"You ever been fucked, boy?"

Billy's throat was totally incapable of emitting a words. How
could he talk about how he and Martin had made love the previous
night?

"Boy?" the man repeated, after a moment of silence.

"I... I... I..."

The finger popped out of Billy's ass, and then...

WACK! WACK! WACK!....

The man's right hand came down quickly with ten wicked spanks
that were harder than anything Billy had ever received across
Pa's lap.

"OUCH! OUCH! I'm sorry, Master! OUCH! Oh, please, Master...
OUCH!!... Yes, Master, I been fucked!" Billy was struggling to
talk through his choking tears, even as the blows rained down.
"Last night... my friend... my first time... the fairgrounds...
we..."

"Never been fucked by a man?" said the merchant, as the spanking
stopped, replaced by soft caresses of his hand on the red skin of
Billy's ass cheeks.

"No, Master... I swear it! Please don't whip me, Master! PLEASE!
I'll do whatever you want... I'll do everything you tell me!"

The slave-seller had no intention of bruising his merchandise.
That would make a bad impression when he was selling the lad the
next day in Norfolk Town. But he knew the value of fear in
training a slave.  It fostered a strong motivation... a readiness
to obey instantly.  But he also knew that he needed to treat this
boy differently than he would a buck-slave field laborer.  There
was a need to balance the fear with a good dose of gentleness,
and even some kindness, in order to break-in the boy just right.

"Just been fucked by a playmate, eh? Well, you've still got a
nice tight hole, boy. That pleases me.  But after your lessons
tonight, I'll have you ready to take a man's cock. And I think
you're starting to understand what it means to be a slave-boy...
I think you've learned about the need to obey instantly. You're a
smart lad, with imagination and initiative. I don't imagine
you'll ever give me reason to spank you again, boy. Now sit up on
my lap facing me, boy, and we'll get started with your training."

The man positioned Billy astride his lap... the boy's legs
extending onto the bunk, to either side of the man's hips.
Billy's hot, stinging butt rested on the man's thighs, and his
penis was still as rigid as before the spanking.  The merchant
had a gentle expression as he looked into the slave-boy's teary
eyes.  He wrapped his arms around Billy's back and leaned forward
to kiss the wet trails running down the boy's cheeks.

"First thing you'll learn is how to stoke a man's desire.  Wrap
your legs around behind my waist, and your arms around my neck.
Agh... your expression! Your face looks so sad!  Make your mouth
and eyes sexy and seductive, like a ripe young teenage girl
who's flirting with her beau.  Yes; that's good! Now kiss me in a
manner that will arouse my lust.... You DO know what I'm talking
about, right?" He smiled when Billy bobbed his head energetically
in the affirmative.  "Good.  I like the feel of a boy's tongue in
my mouth, so don't be shy about using it.  Let's see if you can
kiss me with enough spirit to make my cock stiffen inside my
trousers."

The man rubbed his hands along Billy's back, drawing the naked
boy close to him in a gentle hug. Billy's lips pressed against
the man's in a tender kiss, and his tongue flicked into the
merchant's mouth.  The boy was determined to do his best to make
Master happy.... He'd do whatever it took.

Ten hours later....

Billy awoke with the early light of day dimly illuminating the
inside of the small ship's-cabin. The sun had risen, but the
cabin faced west, so it wasn't yet bright. The boy lay on the
wood floor, with a woolen blanket covering him. Up on the narrow
bunk, the slave merchant snored in a manner that reminded Billy
of his Pa.  The sound caused the boy's first waking thoughts to
flood with memories of everything he had left behind... his home,
his family.  And Martin, his only boyhood friend, with whom he
had experienced the first stirrings of young adolescent love only
two nights ago.  But as Billy began to sit up, the discomforts in
his body pulled his consciousness to memories of what had
occurred here in the cabin last night.

His jaw ached only a little from accommodating the girth of
Master's erection for such an extended time, but his throat was
sore whenever he swallowed... bruised by the repeated deep
intrusions of a fat cock-head.  He reached back and touched the
inflamed flesh around his bottom-hole. Master had said he'd get
accustomed to a man's cock penetrating him back there... and that
before long he'd even accept a fucking with pleasure.  Billy
certainly hoped that it was true! But for now, his bottom felt
very tender and his insides felt battered.

He had done everything that Master demanded, trying his utmost to
memorize Master's numerous instructions for how to serve a man
sexually. Billy understood that the slave-merchant was being
very patient through it all.  Master's temper had threatened to
flare only once -- when the lad had balked at licking a place
where he never even imagined placing his tongue. Without saying a
word, Master had grabbed the riding crop... not moving from his
position on the bunk... lying his back with his legs pulled back
and his upper body propped up by a thick cushion.  Billy knelt on
the bunk, sitting back on his haunches, and cringed in
anticipation of a whipping. But Master merely reached out and
used the riding crop to guide Billy's head down. "Lick me
there... NOW," he said in a low but ominous voice. Given this
second chance, Billy sought to redeem himself, using his tongue
on that hairy, musky place with energy and determination.  As his
tongue-tip corkscrewed into the orifice, the whip-end of the
riding crop lightly caressed the boy's head and stroked along his
back and buttocks.

The man was pleased at how well boy used his tongue, and during
the course of the training he instructed Billy in using his mouth
literally everywhere on the man's body ... sucking fingers and
toes and nipples, licking his ears and feet and inner thighs.

Naturally, Master had instructed him exhaustively on the
techniques of cocksucking.  He had not rushed the process of
teaching Billy to overcome his gag reflex... coaching him with
patience, but leaving no doubt that the skill must be mastered.
And he showed Billy little tricks that would serve to enhance the
lust of any man for whom the boy would be required to provide
oral service.

When Master had demonstrated those techniques, taking Billy's
boyish erection into his mouth, the lad's pleasure had been
indescribable.  Master was an accomplished cocksucker in his own
right, having begun at a young age turning tricks on the streets
of Baltimore Town.  And though it was unmanly in this culture for
a free adult to suck another man, he was free to indulge his oral
cravings on the cocks of young whores and of the slave-boys he
bought and sold. More rarely, and much more discretely, he would
get on his knees to take a man's erection into his mouth.

When Billy's stiff penis responded to the slaver's expert sucking
by spitting a few pulses of thin, sweet boy-cum into the man's
mouth, he had smacked his lips and complimented the boy.

And then there was the fucking.... As Billy thought back to it,
it seemed as if had lasted for hours (though it was probably only
40 minutes out of the 2-hour lesson). They had changed positions
a half-dozen times before the man finally shot his hot fluid deep
inside Billy's ass.  Thank God he had used oil, thought Billy,
and had first used his fingers to loosen the clenched anal
muscle.

Master had posed Billy in various postures, trying to determine
his most alluring "ready position"... the position of a boy
showing a man his willingness and readiness to be fucked. He had
Billy lie on his side, with his left leg straight back and his
head resting on his left forearm. The right leg was pulled up,
and Billy was told how to run his free hand along his chest and
butt and thigh... with special emphasis on caressing his buttocks
seductively. And Master stressed the importance of Billy's facial
expression, teaching him the kind of look that would arouse a
man's lust, using terms such as "pouting lips" and "bedroom
eyes".  And when he told the boy to run the tip of his tongue
sensuously around the outside of his mouth, the man was delighted
with the total effect.

Master lubed his thick, virile cock and slowly entered Billy's
ass from behind.  While instructing the boy how to open his anal
muscle, Master eased in slowly and steadily. When he finally
began fucking with long, smooth strokes of an erection that
seemed to be made of iron, Billy was relieved to find that his
body was actually adapting to the uncomfortable intrusion.

Every so often they changed position, as Master demonstrated
seemingly-endless variations.  And through it all, Billy was
reminded that his face and voice must exhibit pleasure while he
was being fucked... even when he felt no such thing, and he had
to play-act the emotion.  So he moaned with counterfeit ecstacy,
even though his anus burned uncomfortably, as he straddled the
man's supine body and slammed himself down repeatedly on the big
cock. And as Billy lay on his back with his legs pulled back to
his shoulders, he sounded utterly convincing as his high treble
voice begged for the man to fuck him harder and faster.

Finally, it had ended, and Billy was proud to receive his
master's generous praise. With gentle kisses, the man covered the
exhausted slave-boy with a blanket and bade him good-night.

It was morning now, and Billy had slept soundly. He finally stood
up and looked out the porthole. The shore was several miles away,
across dark water rippled by the breeze.  They'd been sailing all
night.... How far was he now from his home on the Choptank River?
Billy tried not to think of home, because it was making tears
come to his eyes. If he started crying, Master might get angry.
So to distract himself, he began fondling his penis. Billy found
that no matter what his emotional state, his dick could instantly
rise to erection, eager for play.  Youthful adolescent lust could
overcome even the saddest thoughts.

Billy's hand began to move in the now-familiar motion of
masturbation, and he closed his eyes as his brain drifted on the
waves of growing pleasure.  All too soon he felt the rising
pressure of impending orgasm, and with considerable effort he
managed to slow himself down and make it last. Billy's left hand
cupped his balls and massaged them gently.  His fantasies drifted
to Martin... how he had kissed his friend's lips and licked at
his tongue as they lay in each other's embrace... discovering the
pleasure of sucking the black-skinned boy's cock... remembering
the special feeling of Martin's slender cock penetrating him,
sliding back and forth in Billy's bottom-hole. Billy felt his
seed begin to rise up again.  There was no holding back now...
just a few more quick strokes....

"BOY!!"

The angry voice made Billy jump, and his hands flew away from his
genitals.

"Listen here, slave. You NEVER shoot your cum without the consent
of your master.  Maybe I didn't tell you last night, so you'll
not get punishment for the infraction this time.  I KNOW I told
you last night that your body belongs to your master.  And I
thought I made clear that a slave-boy of your age and with your
looks is valued foremost for sex-work.  You don't go takin'
matters into your own hands unless your master wants you to.
Master might tell you to stroke off if it pleases him to watch.
Or he want to jack you himself... or taste your boy-juice like I
did last night.  Otherwise, you save it up.  A horny cock gets
hard quicker, and a slave-boy needs to get his cock stiff anytime
Master tells him to strip naked.  If you jack off, all by your
lonesome, you're cheating your master... you're stealing what
belongs to him. And stealing from your master is a VERY serious
offense. Understand?

"Yes, Master... I'm SO sorry."

"Good.... You go up for auction today, and I want your cock to be
stiff as an oak branch whenever a customer so much as glances at
you. I expect to make a tidy profit off you, boy.  I'm gonna have
what they call a reserve on your price. If the bidding doesn't
make it to 12 dollars, you don't sell. That's twice what I paid
for you, plus the auction commission. If I don't sell you
tomorrow, and YOU screwed up the sale in some way...." The man's
voice drifted off, but Billy followed the man's eyes to the trunk
that held the riding crop and whip.

"Master, I PROMISE I'll do EVERYTHING just the way you want!"

The merchant kept the stern expression on his face, but inside he
was amused.  Yes; the best motivator of slaves has always been
fear of physical punishment.  The lad seemed to respond quite
well to it.  All it had taken was a few open-hand spanks on his
butt to fully break him last night! But the man again reminded
himself that getting top dollar at auction would depend on the
lad having an extra spark of enthusiasm that fear alone couldn't
bring out.  Using some kindness to mellow the underlying fear
served to perk a boy up with gratitude, and it showed through on
the auction block.

"I'm sure you'll do just fine, lad. I've grown to like you.
You're bright enough, and you're as pretty a lad as I've ever
owned.  And you've got a talent for sex-work that'll serve you
well. You might even get bought up by a rich aristocrat and live
in his fine mansion. Whoever buys you won't waste you with hard
labor. No plantation field work for you... no, sir.  Or you might
go to one of the high-class boy-houses in Norfolk or
Williamsburg, where there'll be other pretty lads to play with,
and you'll be fed and clothed like you was a rich-man's son.

Billy marveled at these descriptions... so different from his
upbringing is a one-room shack, where food got scarce at times.
And he was delighted to hear once again that he was "pretty",
having been teased all his life about the homeliness of his pale
skin, his sharp nose, and other whitey features. His face was
radiant with a big smile, and the man playfully tousled his hair.

"Now, I need to teach you how to move and act when you're being
seen by bidders... when they check you out before the auction
starts, and when you get up on the auction block. To get top
dollar, you need to be sexy and confident. Do you understand me?"

"I understand, Master.  Sexy and confident."  Billy wasn't really
sure how to be sexy and confident, but he didn't want to sound
stupid.

"Good boy!  Alright; let me explain how it will be at the
auction...."

The merchant proceeded to describe the big weekly slave auction
held at Norfolk City... how potential bidders examined the
merchandise beforehand in a holding area behind the auctioneer's
arena.  He reminded the boy that a slave had no claim to
modesty... if the master wished for other men to see a slave
naked, he instantly stripped and displayed his body... if Master
allowed men to fondle him or use him sexually, he must serve the
men the same as he were serving the master.

The merchant explained how most of the slaves at auction would be
adults -- field-worker bucks or wenches destined for drudge-work.
They were mostly convicts sentenced to a term of servitude
(including some who were life-term slaves like Cicero).  But they
might even include men or women who had signed their own
contracts of servitude to pay off debts or get money that would
keep their families from starving.  The younger ones would likely
be subject to indenture contracts sold by their families.

The last slaves sold, at the end of the auction, were the ones
that attracted the most audience interest, even among those not
bidding.  These were the sexiest girls and young wenches and the
prettiest adolescent boys.  Typically, the auction house paid for
musicians to play during this part of the sale... allowing these
slaves to show their physical attributes and allure in a manner
appropriate to their likely future duties.  Billy's master was
confident of getting his slave-boy scheduled in this group.

"I'll need to put you in better clothing than your home-spun,"
said the merchant, and he dug around his trunk. He pulled out a
shirt of good white cotton that buttoned down the front, and a
pair of trousers that were clean and fairly new (unlike Billy's
dirty and patched clothes). Both were the man's personal clothing
and were way too big for the boy.  But with the pants-legs
rolled, the shirt-bottom tucked into the trousers, and the
sleeves rolled up, he looked remarkably appealing.

"Here's what I want you to do to show yourself to the bidders...
and to get those rich men to bid on you.  Remember that sultry
expression I showed you last night?..."

The man instructed the boy, and even performed the movements
himself. It was amusing to see the burly merchant pretending to
be a sexy boy, but Billy knew better than to giggle.  After
getting Billy to run through the routine a few times, the man was
satisfied that he had it down.

"Now put on those clothes again, boy, and we'll go up on deck."

Billy and the merchant made their way outside and found the big
schooner sailing nicely under a favorable northwesterly breeze.
The half-dozen crew members didn't have much to do but stand
ready to trim the sails if the captain ordered it.  A number of
passengers stood on deck as well, enjoying the pleasant weather
and talking among themselves.  Most were merchants, like Billy's
master, and all were men.  Not at all surprisingly, Billy was the
only white-skinned person on deck.

Billy walked past a cabin-boy who stood at the edge of the deck,
hands draped around some rigging, almost as if he were posing.
The boy was about Billy's age and bare-chested, and he regarded
Billy with a look that expressed a touch of arrogant superiority.
Though Billy was still very dubious of his own attractiveness
(despite Master's assertion that he was pretty) there was no
doubt that the cabin boy fit the description of "pretty".
Slightly taller than Billy, he had tawny skin the shade of coffee
into which a dollop of milk had been added. His dark, wavy hair
arranged itself in natural ringlets that framed a delicate face
and button nose. His dark brown eyes were set off by remarkably
long lashes that gave an almost-feminine look to the slender
youth.

"Stay here, boy, while I talk to the Captain," the slave-merchant
told Billy.

The slave-boy watched as his master strode to the aft-deck and
greeted the gruff-looking captain of the ship.  He couldn't hear
what they were saying, but the merchant pointed to Billy during
the conversation, and the captain studied the boy for a minute
and nodded his head. When the merchant returned to his slave-boy,
he was smiling.

"Captain says we'll be in Norfolk Town in plenty of time for the
auction. And he said I could run you through your paces here on
deck. Need to get you accustomed to a live audience, boy."

Billy had been fine with showing himself to his master down in
the cabin, but now his natural shyness returned in a big way. His
heart was beating fast, and he could feel his face blushing
furiously.

"Don't make me disappointed in you, boy," said Master, seeing the
distress on his slave's face. His eyes and stern expression made
it unnecessary for him to elaborate.  Then Master's face
brightened, and he added: "If you do me proud, I'll have the
ship's cook fix you up a good breakfast of bacon and eggs and
sausage and fried potatoes when we get back to the cabin."

It was an easy choice -- either a whipping or a breakfast to fill
his empty stomach.  Billy swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and
stepped up onto a big hatch-cover, with a look of confidence and
sensuality, just the way he'd been instructed.

"Gentlemen!... Gather round!" called out the slaver in a booming
voice. "Fellow merchants!... Crew members!  The good Captain has
consented to my giving you a preview of one of the prime
commodities that will be available at this afternoon's big
auction in Norfolk Town.  This lad you see here is a country-boy,
but he's as prime a whitey slave-boy as you're likely to run
across.  Gather round and see for yourself!"

There was genial conversation and laughter about this unexpected
diversion, and the men -- and the cabin boy -- gathered around
the hatch-cover, which was a raised area of the deck about eight
feet square.

Just as Billy began to move in the dance he had been taught, the
captain of the schooner called down from the aft-deck to one of
the deck-hands. "LaMarr... how about some of your fiddle music so
the slave-boy can show his stuff proper-like."

"Aye-aye, Capt'n."

Instead of going to get the instrument himself, the sailor sent
the cabin boy, whose name was Juwan, scurrying below decks to get
it. In a few moments, the man was tuning up his fiddle.

"Have you a song request, sir?" he asked the slave-merchant.

"Do you know the tune called 'The Saucy Wench'?"

"Aye! I know it well. It's one of the favorites when our young
cabin boy entertains us in the evening hours." And he started
playing the mid-tempo tune.

In a slow strip-tease dance, Billy began to move his body.  He
barely shifted his feet, but his hips moved in a seductive
grinding motion, and his hands slid over his clothed body. His
moves were naive and a bit awkward, but an undeniable sensuality
shone through, and the onlookers murmured their approval. It was
quite common for sailors and traveling men in this culture to
avail themselves of the sexual charms of boys, and the men were
attracted by what they saw in Billy's attempts to arouse their
lust.

When Billy's fingers unbuckled his borrowed belt, the over-sized
trousers fell in a heap at his feet. He stepped out of then and
kicked them away. The large shirt came down to mid-thigh, and as
he continued to dance in time to the music, he teased the
audience by raising it up to give glimpses of his penis and his
smooth, rounded ass cheeks.

Now the approving comments became more vocal, and Billy was
becoming ever more comfortable.  Though his movements still were
not polished, he moved his hips with increasing self-assurance.
'Sexy and confident' were the words Master had used, and he now
fully understood their meaning.

Undoing the shirt buttons slowly, while making eye-contact with
a succession of on-lookers, he seemed to have the instincts of
professional stripper. When Billy started rubbing his cock, still
covered by the shirt, and pantomiming sexual pleasure, the crowd
started calling out bawdy comments.

"The little whitey slave is HOT!"

"Take off that shirt, boy.... Let's see you nekkid!"

"Come on down to crew's quarters when the watch ends! We know how
to treat a boy right... ain't that so, Juwan."

The pretty cabin boy seemed not at all offended by the remark,
and struck a sexy pose of his own.

"Yeah, whitey; take it off! Let's see if you've got as pretty a
boy-cock as our Juwan!" The sailor grabbed the cabin boy, and
groped at Juwan's crotch, but the dusky-skinned lad just laughed
and slithered away from the man.

Billy ignored the comments and concentrated instead on his dance.
When he had shed his shirt and tossed it aside, he stood totally
naked, except for the cloth-covered collar around his neck. His
penis stood up in a plump 4-inch erection, crowned with a bright
red cock-head, pointing straight up toward his belly. To shouts
of approval, Billy's hands caressed his body -- from his chest to
his inner thighs -- with increasing lewdness. He bent over to
display his butt... fingers gliding around his ass cheeks and
pulling them apart... then stood up straight, hands behind his
head, and thrust his crotch forward... exhibiting his delightful
penis and making his balls sway from side to side.  Billy found,
to his surprise, that this sort of obscene exhibitionism excited
and energized him.  Far from feeling shy and embarrassed, he
actually enjoyed displaying himself as a shameless sex-object.

"Hey Juwan!" said a sailor. "You gonna let this whitey show you
up like that?  You always tell us how you's the sexiest boy on
the Chesapeake Bay, right?"

"Yeah, Juwan," said another crew-member. "Show these gents what
we get a piece of at night."  As with cabin boys throughout
history for as long as men have gone out on sailing ships, one
of Juwan's functions on the schooner was to be the crew's whore.
He was unashamed of his role as a boy-slut and proud of his
considerable sex-appeal.

"Capt'n?... That OK with you?" he asked. The ship's captain
smiled and nodded his head.

Juwan wore only a pair of bell-bottom trousers... tight at the
hips and flaring wide below the knees. And when he stepped up
onto the hatch-cover and began to move to the music, it was clear
that he was far more experienced at such a show than Billy.  As
the slave-merchant watched with a big smile spreading across his
face, his whitey slave-boy got an expert lesson in the art of
sensuality.  The merchant doubted that any dancing-girl in any
port city on the Bay could raise a man's passions any hotter than
this boy Juwan was doing. If Billy could do half as well as Juwan
at the auction, there was no telling how much he'd sell for.

Billy watched with excitement too, and he tried to imitate
Juwan's moves... with surprising success.  Juwan slowly peeled
down his trousers to reveal a stiff adolescent cock of exquisite
proportions and appearance. It stood up 5 inches and had the very
beginnings of a pubic bush -- a few dozen long hairs sprouting at
the base of the penis.

With both boys naked and dancing, Juwan turned the temperature up
another notch as he moved close to Billy and thrust his crotch
forward, rubbing his boner against Billy's slightly smaller cock.
Billy grinned as Juwan reached out... his hands wandering
sensuously along the sides of the white boy's slender torso and
hips. The two boys stared into each other's faces, and Billy's
soul was captured by the dark beauty of Juwan's eyes. When Juwan
stuck out his tongue and flicked it like a snake, Billy did
likewise... and the boys playfully rubbed the tips of their
extended tongues together, much to the pleasure of the crowd of
men.

"Suck him off, Juwan!" called out a big sailor. "You're the best
cocksucker EVER!"

The cabin boy's head whipped around, and he looked at the sailor
with haughty scorn. "You want a free man like me suck a slave?
And a whitey besides?  Ha!  Why don't YOU blow him, Shaquille?"
A round of laughter rose from the group. "Or how 'bout HIM
sucking ME off, instead?"

All eyes, including Billy's, flashed over to the slave-merchant.
The man considered for a moment, then nodded his head. "Suck him,
boy. Show these gents what you can do."  The merchant knew that
it was good practice... that bidders would be wanting to try out
the boy's oral skills before the auction.

Billy wanted very much to please Master. His stomach had been
growling, and the prospect of that big breakfast (and the
avoidance of a whipping) would have been motivation enough. But
he was also undeniably aroused by Juwan's beauty and incredible
eroticism. And he was caught up in the excitement of how the
crowd of men were reacting to him.  The fact that these men would
be watching as he fellated the cabin boy didn't even concern him.
Since he'd boarded the ship, he'd done an incredible variety of
things he'd never have imagined himself doing... and he'd gotten
considerable praise in return.  It looked as if this kind of
unabashed sexuality was destined to be a major element of his new
life... so if it was exciting and pleasurable besides, he might
as well make the most of it.

With Juwan's hands pressing down on his shoulders, Billy knelt
down... his face only inches from the brown-skinned boy's
beautiful young-adolescent genitals. Billy's hand cupped the soft
hairless ball-sack.  His lips slid onto the cock-head, which was
slightly-flared and stood out enticingly above the roll of
foreskin.  Billy's tongue swirled around the hot, silky glans and
piss-slit as his lips pushed further down. Juwan's fingers
entwined through Billy's fine blond hair and pulled his mouth
onto the rigid shaft.

Billy was captivated... totally absorbed in the excitement of
sucking Juwan's handsome cock.  As if from far off, he heard the
boisterous voices of the men who surrounded him, urging him on,
but his mind didn't assimilate their words. He concentrated
instead on the cabin boy's stiff penis. It was a much better fit
in his mouth than Master's long, thick cock had been last night.
With Master, oral service had been a job... difficult to perform,
but rewarding to accomplish successfully.  But with Juwan, it was
pure sensual pleasure.  This was only the third penis he had ever
sucked, and it was much like his first time... with his friend
Martin.

Not only did he enjoy sucking Juwan's cock, he knew intuitively
that he was doing it well. He was remembering all of Master's
instruction and using the techniques.  Blocking out the men's
voices around him, he listened only to Juwan's moans of pleasure.
His hand on the cabin boy's flank could feel the muscles flex
with the tension of building lust.

Though it had been to take Master's cock into his throat
last night, Billy swallowed Juwan's adolescent erection with
ease.  With his lips pressing against the wisps of pubic hair,
Billy twisted his head from side to side, intensely stimulating
the cock-head that was lodged at the entrance to his throat.
Then Billy began to move his lips and tongue quickly along the
entire shaft, from head to base, over and over, letting the cock
fuck his mouth. Juwan's hips bucked urgently, and he groaned out
his lust, loudly announcing his impending orgasm.

Billy grasped the lower part of the shaft in his  fist, and
his mouth concentrated on the top 2 inches of the Juwan's cock,
moving with incredible speed.  In less than a minute, the dark-
skinned boy orgasmed with a shout of total lust. Spurts of salty
boy-cum erupted from Juwan's spasming cock, while Billy swallowed
and kept on sucking up and down, driving the cabin boy wild with
pleasure.  Finally, Juwan could take no more and pushed Billy's
head away.

"Agh!! My GOD but that was a good cum.  Damn, white-boy... you're
quite the cocksucker. Don't think I could do better myself....
DAMN!!"

Some of the men were thinking they could use some of what Billy
had, and when the slave-boy looked around, he saw the trousers of
several sailors and passengers being opened and stiff man-cocks
coming out of them. Billy wondered if he'd be giving blow jobs to
all of these men.  But his master squelched the idea instantly,
grabbing Billy by the elbow, pulling him to his feet, and handing
the boy his clothing.

"My slave-boy will be at auction this afternoon. If you've the
money, you may be the lucky gent who takes him home."

The ship's captain re-enforced the idea. "Alright; all hands back
to your stations.  Fun's over."  And with a slight grin, he added
"Cabin boy... you're out of uniform. Move it!"

"Aye-aye, Capt'n," came the reply, in a boyish voice that wobbled
on the edge of it's impending change from treble to tenor.

Later...

The schooner had docked at the Norfolk wharf before noon, and the
slave-merchant's meager belongings had been unloaded -- a wooden
trunk, a small canvass tent, and two whitey slaves, both of whom
would be up for sale at the auction that began in three hours
time.  Billy still wore the slaver's big white shirt and baggy
trousers. He carried his own clothes tied in a bundle. Cicero was
dressed only in rough and oft-patched trousers.

The auction building was quite near the harbor.  The inside was
well-lit by sky-lights and oil lamps, and the merchant knew his
way around.  The selling-room had a platform on which the a slave
would stand as the bidding progressed, and the room could hold 50
bidders without over-crowding.  Behind the selling-room were
several rooms that served as waiting areas, where bidders could
wander around to examine the merchandise more closely. These
rooms contained numerous small cubicles, each measuring about 5
feet by 5 feet, each with a metal ring and chain that could
secure a slave.

Cicero was padlocked and chained by his neck collar in a cubicle.
Billy, however, stood at Master's side, like an obedient pet,
while the man walked around greeting acquaintances.

"That's a prime whitey-boy you've got," said a fellow
slave-trader. "He a lifer or an indentured slave?"

"Indentured, with 5 and half years to go. Broke him in completely
without having to get rough, and he's got amazing potential in
the personal services. Nice, eh?"

"Hmmm... Wouldn't mind trying out some of his services myself.
But you really ought to get him bathed and dress him better if
you want top dollar. Got any boy-clothes for him?"

"Afraid not.... You have any I could borrow?"

"Not me. I deal in wenches pretty much exclusive." The man looked
at Billy and grinned. "I've seen boy-whores dressed up as girls,
but I don't think you want to show him that way at auction....
Say; there's a clothing shop right down there on Mariner Street.
And a bath house is only a couple doors up from it. You've got
plenty of time before the bidders start showing up.  Take the lad
on down, and I'll keep an eye on that whitey buck you got
chained-up over there."

"That's mighty nice of you, TayShawn. Thanks!"

Twenty minutes later, Billy walked out of the bath house feeling
cleaner than any other time in his life. Not only had there been
hot water, but a bar of sweet smelling soap made the accumulated
grime on his body seem to melt away.  His skin was whiter than
ever, which made him cringe at first, but he made up his mind
that he didn't care. The bath attendant was an old woman who
scrubbed him with a rough cloth and with her hands, cackling with
amusement when she slathered soap on his crotch and made his
penis stiffen. Only after Master warned her sternly not to make
the boy cum did she desist from her fondling.

Billy and the merchant walked only a short distance before they
came to a small shop, with a sign above the door said "Orenthal's
Fine Clothing".  Smaller letters on the sign read "Specializing
in Fine Antique and Reproduction Attire." A small paper in the
window said "auction rentals available".

A bell tinkled as the slaver opened the door.

"Good day, sir. How may I serve you?" The store clerk's eyes went
immediately to Billy, assessing his beauty and noting the slave-
collar around his neck.

"I'd like to suit the boy up for this afternoon's sale. Figure
I'll get higher bids if he's gussied up."

"Have you considered, sir, how you will be marketing him? You'll
want a different look, I think, depending on who will be the
likely buyer. You want one kind of clothing if you think he'll go
as a concubine for an aristocrat... quite another appearance if
he'll be staff in one of the houses." ("House" being a polite
euphemism for a brothel.)

"I'm not rightly sure... I've never sold one of his quality here
in Norfolk," said the slaver. "What kind of clothing would you
recommend to appeal to an aristocrat?"

"Well, this time of year, the owners of the big plantations are
moving to their winter houses here in the City or in
Williamsburg. I've some good customers among that class of
gentlemen.  When they have a pretty concubine such as your lad
here, they like to dress him up in the classic boy-styles of the
Golden Age. I think I've got JUST the outfit to show the boy!"
The clerk scurried around behind the counter, collecting articles
of clothing. He arranged on the counter a white long-sleeve
button-down shirt (somewhat like the one Billy was wearing, but
in a boy's size), short trousers (VERY short!) of grey wool
flannel with attached suspenders of the same material, a blue
tie, black knee-socks, and a pair of leather shoes.

"What's the blue sash for?" asked the slave-merchant.

"It's a decorative item that the ancients wore, called a 'tie',
and it goes around the neck with a special knot. See how it
matches your boy's slave-collar? Let's get the lad dressed, and
I'll affix it properly."

"Uh... how much for all of this?" asked the slaver.

"Let's see..." said the clerk as he jotted numbers on a scrap of
paper. "They're all reproductions, of course, but very well-made,
as you can plainly see. And the shoes are especially fine. It
comes to 7 dollars, 5 and 2."

"Seven and a half dollars!!! For clothing? You think I'm made of
money?...  The sign outside said 'rentals'. How much to rent the
outfit for the auction?"

"Rental... hmmm, yes.... Well these items are unused, sir, so the
cost of first rental will be rather dear. It would be... hmmm...
3 dollars even. And I'd need the full sales price as a deposit.
If any item becomes stained with... uh, you know... it's not
returnable." (The clerk knew that slave-boys were sometimes
splashed with semen when they were checked out by the potential
bidders.)

The slave-merchant didn't even bother to haggle the price. It
would be too high for him regardless. "Show me your
recommendation for appealing to the buyer for a boy-house."

"Of course, sir.  As you can imagine, something much more
revealing would be in order. Last week I got in a rare find. Two
packages of antique garments, bearing pictures and words, tightly
sealed in real see-through!" (The technology to make plastic was
non-existent in the year 2203, and clear plastic packaging seemed
magical.) The clerk brought out a package of late-20th century
underpants. "I sold one of the packages just yesterday... to the
buying agent for a fine boy-house in Williamsburg.  This second
package was opened for his examination, but otherwise the
garments are untouched since ancient times."

The packaging bore a photograph of two boys, around age 10. Each
of the pictured lads wore the same small, tight garment around
his loins. One boy faced forward and wore an undershirt that he
was pulling up at the side to reveal a swath of skin.  The second
lad was shirtless and faced away, showing his barely-covered
rear-end, with his head turned to the side, smiling at his
friend.  The package referred to the garments as "Fruit of the
Loom.... 3 Boys' Briefs".

The slave-merchant examined the packaging and then examined a
garment that the clerk had removed. It had a bright red waist-
band and matching red piping around the tight leg holes. Two
paintings of strange creatures decorated the front, which also
had an ingenious slotted opening sewn into the soft white cloth.
The back had a big word in garish lettering.

"What are these peculiar animals? And the word 'Pokemon'...
What does it mean?  I know the words 'Fruit of the Loom', of
course, but the phrase makes no sense," said the slaver.

"I've heard that small trousers bearing such pictures were often
worn by boys in the later years of the Golden Age. They are
rather skimpy, so I think that they were not generally worn
outdoors. The pictured animals are of course mythical... probably
some sort of religious idols. I've no idea what 'Pokemon' or
'Fruit of the Loom' mean.  The set that I sold yesterday
contained the words 'Star Wars: Episode 1' and bore the picture
of a robed, long-haired man holding a glowing scepter.  My guess
is that such garments might have been worn by an altar boy in one
of the religions practiced by the ancients. They say that some of
the sects that flourished during the Golden Age kept a cadre of
young boys to serve the sexual needs of the high priests.  But
for your purposes, sir, such a unique and distinctive piece of
antique clothing is guaranteed to catch the eye of every
observer, and it shows a handsome boy's assets to the maximum
degree... Try it on the lad."

The slave-merchant directed Billy to strip and put on the
underpants, right in the middle of the shop.  They were rather
tight on him (size 8), and his genitals pressed firmly against
the front, framed by pictures of Pikachu and Charmander, while
the word 'Pokemon' stretched across his butt as if it were
painted on his skin. They did indeed look very sexy on the boy,
although the slaver wasn't sure he cared for the eccentric
design.

"How much for the garment? Just one; not three."

"Well, seeing as how it's an antique in pristine condition... and
with the unusual picture... and you're breaking up the set, I'd
need 2 dollars if you buy or 1 dollar to rent."

The slaver winced. "For this little scrap of cloth? Have you a
similar garment that's been used a few times? Perhaps one that
lacks the excessive decoration?"

"Yes, sir, I believe I do."  The clerk reached behind the counter
and pulled out boys' bikini underpants with thin alternating
horizontal strips of grey and black, size 12. There was no
opening in the front, but they felt much softer than the Pokeman
briefs. "They are antique as well, and still in good condition.
One dollar to buy; 3 silvers to rent."

When Billy tried them on, they fit perfectly and were wondrously
comfortable besides. The look pleased the slaver, and the rental
price of 3 dimes was certainly manageable.

"I'll give you 2 and 5 for the rental."

"Two and 7."

"Deal.... How late are you open for me to return it?"


Later... back at the auction building....

A length of chain attached to the cubicle was padlocked to
Billy's collar.  The slave-boy stood passively, wearing only the
bikini briefs, as potential bidders ran their hands over his body
and engaged him in superficial conversations to test his
intelligence and social skills.  Nearly all of the customers
pulled down his underpants to examine his sexual charms. He lost
count of how many men fondled his penis to erection... how many
told him to bend over and spread apart his ass-cheeks so they
could probe a finger into his hole.

Nearly all of the men asked the slave-merchant if they could
have a sampling of Billy's oral skills, but not all were granted
such favors. Master had been in the business for over 10 years,
and he was experienced at reading a man's potential as a buyer...
from the way he was dressed, the questions he asked, the look in
his eye.  Billy got on his knees to pleasure at least a dozen...
he didn't keep count.  He knew what master expected, and he gave
each customer his best effort. After the sixth or seventh cock in
his mouth, the series of techniques that he was showing off had
become almost routine and automatic. His jaw and tongue were
tired, and his throat sore, but Billy did his best not to let it
affect his performance or his show of enthusiasm.

Sometimes the customer pulled out after a brief period of
sucking, not wanting to cum before he had tested the skills of
other slaves that were up for auction.  Other times, Master
stepped in and said "I think that's enough... don't want to tire
him out."  With two men, however, both well-dressed, and each
VERY interested in Billy, Master had allowed their sessions to
continue until they spurted cum into Billy's mouth.  Both times,
after the customer had fastened his trousers and left, the
slaver quietly praised Billy for how well he had performed.

At last, Billy's number was called out. He and his master moved
into the selling-room and stood unobtrusively at the side, in the
shadows, as the auction just prior to his was finishing up. He
had waited in his cubicle for two hours during which the other
slaves had been similarly brought out one-by-one to be sold.
Cicero had gone an hour previously... to whom or where, Billy
didn't know.

As Billy now watched from the side, a young woman of perhaps 17
years was being auctioned.  A trio of musicians played... fiddle,
guitar, and hand-drum... as the pretty girl moved her body in the
timeless manner of one whose goal is to sexually arouse a man.  A
thin robe had been tossed in a heap at the edge of the block, and
the girl danced naked. The auctioneer cajoled higher bids from
the 30 or so men who stood in the semi-circle of
progressively-stepped risers.

As Billy and his master stood together, Master gave some last
minute instructions, making sure that Billy understood exactly
what was required. He also fondled Billy's penis the entire time,
so he would be hard from the first moment he stepped out. When
the girl's auction ended and Billy's number was called out, he
walked briskly from the shadows and stepped up onto the block...
a raised platform of 5 feet square. Wearing only his striped
briefs, his slave-collar, and a courageous smile, he began to
move his body to the music as the auctioneer started his pitch.

"From the Choptank River, up the Bay on the Eastern Shore, comes
this remarkably pretty young whitey.  Only 12 years old.  With 5
years, 6 months, and 17 days on his indenture.  Would you
believe, folks, that his indenture papers were issued only
yesterday? Talk about a fresh young slave-boy!  Bidding begins at
10 dollars, gents.  Who'll give me 10? This isn't some barbarian
whitey from the West, folks.  This lad grew up in civilization,
and he's eager to please.  Do I hear 10?  Yes! 10! Thank-you,
sir... there in the first row. Do I hear 11?... Who bids 11 for
this sexy boy... look at how he moves, gents! He's getting me hot
just standing here next to him! The gentleman on the left side
bids 11! Thank-you, sir. Who'll give me 12?  Gentlemen, I was in
back before the auction started and I got a sample of the lad's
skills... that rosebud mouth of his is just remarkable!"

When Billy heard the bidding go over 12 dollars -- Master's
minimum sale price -- adrenalin surged through him and all
apprehension vanished.  He was determined to make Master proud by
getting the highest bid he possibly could. And as he  gyrated on
the platform, fingertips delicately caressing his body,
everything seemed to come to him naturally. The movements of his
body and hands served to highlight the beauty of his perfect
boyish ass, which he wiggled at the audience as he bent over, and
his appealingly androgynous torso. His hard little cock pushed
out against the snug material of the skimpy underpants, and when
he teasingly pulled them down in front -- tucking the waistband
behind his balls -- murmurs of approval could be heard in the
audience.

"I've got 15 over here. Do I hear 16 for this little charmer?
Look at what he's got down there... have you ever seen a cuter
body on a boy? Who'll give me 16?"

Sliding the briefs down to mid-thigh, Billy kept up his erotic
movements... letting his 4-inch boner sway as he moved.  When he
glanced over at Master, still in the shadows, he saw that the man
was smiling and making a signal with his hand.  Billy understood.
He stepped out of the underpants and artfully glided his body
down onto the floor... getting into the "ready position" in which
he was first fucked by Master... looking back over his shoulder
at the bidders, his tongue moving languidly across his lips, his
fingers spreading his ass-cheek to display his delicate pink
anus.

"I've got 17... and 18 over here... and 19 dollars? Thank you,
sir! We've got 19... how about 20? Who'll bid 20 dollars for the
sexiest white boy you've ever seen?"

Billy kept an ear to the numbers, and when the bidding got above
20, he knew that Master wanted him to stand up and begin
masturbating... to stroke his foreskin up and down with his thumb
and first two fingers... thrusting his hips forward... pinching
his hard little nipples with this left hand... turning his body
every so often so that he could be viewed at different angles by
all in the audience... scrunching his face in a look of sexual
pleasure while his tongue continued licking sexily around his
lips.

Actually, the expression on Billy's face took no acting skill, as
the lust that was pent-up in his body took control of his senses.

"There's 23... who'll bid 24?"

Billy's hand jacked up and down, fast and with a jerky cadence,
and moans rolled up from his throat and escaped his lips. His
left hand reached behind him, and his fingers tickled his
asshole. As the wave of pleasure rose up within him, Billy lost
all awareness of where he was and who was watching him.  When the
wave of pleasure crested and crashed down in a surge of orgasmic
spasms, his high-pitched voice whimpered in ecstacy.

"Going once... twice... SOLD to the gentleman from Williamsburg
for 28 dollars!... Thank you all for the very spirited bidding on
the whitey lad."

The auctioneer directed an assistant to wipe up the drops of cum
from the auction block.  Billy's master... Billy's FORMER
master... hugged and kissed the slave-boy, then led him to the
room where the transactions were formalized by the signing-over
of papers.

>From the shadows at the edge of the room -- where Billy had
previously stood -- a girl stumbled toward the auction block as
if she'd been shoved. Her tan skin was rather light for a brown
person, and straight brown hair hung half-way down her back. She
was a young adolescent... tall and rail-thin, but bordering on
elegant in her lean stature and the beautiful shape of her face.
She was naked, but for her collar, and she held her hands in
front of her crotch. Puffy dark nipples pushed up from a nearly-
flat chest.

"Now we have lot number 56, a very pretty girl 'bout the same age
as that whitey boy we just sold.  And she's naked as the day she
was born, just the way you gents like to see 'em...  Looks a bit
shy, don't she.... Come on up, darlin'.... She's just beginning
an indenture that has 5 years, 2 months, and 23 days to run.
Comes from good farm-family stock on the Rappahannock River, so
she probably knows all about cooking and cleaning and such.  But
ain't she a beauty, gentlemen! Come night-time, she'll show off
her REAL talents.  Let's start the bidding at 15 dollars for this
light-skinned beauty. Do I hear 15? Anyone want to start us out?
Come on, gentlemen... have you ever seen a finer looking young
girl?"

[Whispered: "Take your hands away from your front, girl... and
smile, damn you.... Shit! This slave ain't been broke in at
all!"]

"Who'll bid 15?  Do I hear 15? Ok. Let's start at 12 dollars.
Do we have 12? Anyone? Yes! There in the back... thank you, sir!
Do I  hear 13?  She may be a shy one, men, but that means you can
break her in just exactly how you like. She's fresh off the
farm.... Wouldn't surprise me if she's a virgin... or nearly so."

[Whispered: "Oh, for God's sake; don't start crying! Damnation!
How can I sell you if you're bawlin' like that?  OK; darlin';
settle down. Face away from the gents, and get down on your knees
and elbows. Raise your ass up high, and wiggle it around. Show
them what you've got down there."]

"Look at THAT, gentlemen! This girl is just beginning to
blossom... think about how tight she is... and how much you'd
like to have this slender beauty in your bed tonight.  She's 12
years old, and she'll just keep getting more luscious as she
ripens!  Who'll bid 13 dollars?"

End of Part 2
[Write to me at bil47_new@yahoo.com]