Date: Thu, 25 Dec 2003 15:06:38 -0800 (PST)
From: Bill <bil47_new@yahoo.com>
Subject: Chesapeake Boy - Part 4

Chesapeake Boy, 2203 A.D. - Part 4

[NOTE: This is the continuation of a story set in the future,
200 years after a terrorist-released virus nearly wiped out the
human race.  You can read the earlier chapters by going to
Nifty's index of "stories by prolific net authors" and looking
under "Bill".]


The night air was increasingly chilly as the horse-drawn carriage
approached the town of Williamsburg.  Harvest was over, and the
town was growing in population as aristocrats moved from their
outlying plantations into townhouses for the winter.  Even the
Duke of Norfolk himself moved up-river from Norfolk Town to take
up residence in the Winter Palace at Williamsburg.  The social
scene became much more lively in the winter season, as did
business at the town's only high-class boy-brothel.

Cleavon Spinks held the sleeping 12-year-old slaveboy on his lap,
hugging the slender lad close. Cleavon had wrapped his long cloak
around the both of them for warmth.  The handsome brown-skinned
young man exchanged conversation in quiet tones with the lanky
17-year-old youth holding the reins as the two horses clomped
toward the edge of town.

"Did you enjoy your stay in the city, Master?" asked the driver.

"That I did, Seth.  Stayed the night at a harbor-side tavern in
Norfolk Town where the food and ale were first-rate, and the bed
was soft.  And I managed to entice a burley longshoreman up to my
room for some fun... hung like a horse he was," added Cleavon in
a sly and slightly effeminate tone.  "But I got all my business
taken care of too.  Bought some sexy new garments for the boys of
the Club to use as work costumes.  And of course I purchased the
new slave-boy here.  Paid a hefty price at auction, too.  I was
bidding against an aristocrat who fancied him for a concubine.
But the lad's a beauty and has a natural talent for pleasing men,
so I think Mr. Nkomo will be well satisfied at how I spent his
money."

"A beauty indeed, Master.  Will he be sleeping in the boys'
room before long? I've hopes of getting him in my bunk right
soon," said Seth in a wishful voice.

"Ha!  Not bloody likely for a while.  Mr. Nkomo will have him in
his own bed the first few nights, like he always does with the
new arrivals.  And then I expect to take him for a time.  He
might even get sent out for overnights with special customers.
And don't go breaking the rule about sex-play in the daytime
before the Club opens for customers."

"No, Master; you know I never break that rule."

"Anyway, don't you get as much night-time fun as you want with the
other lads?  I hear tell you've been bedding young Cupid pretty
much regular."

"Aye, Master.  And that scamp Cupid is a cute one, alright.  But
your new lad there is something special.  Makes be horny just
looking at his face, and I ain't even seen him awake yet."

"Well don't get too presumptuous... just remember you still have
that slave-collar around your neck. I've always liked you, Seth,
but you're still just a whitey slave until your indenture ends.
You break the rules, and I'll have to lay into your back with
the whip."

"Yes, Master.  I know," murmured Seth.  He had only 5 months
remaining until his 18th birthday, when his contract of indenture
terminated and he was free.  Seth was rather old for work as a
pleasure-slave, but even a tall and maturing 17-year-old was
still desirable enough to attract paying customers when he had
the light skin and fair hair of a whitey.  White boys and young
white wenches held considerable erotic appeal among the brown-
skinned aristocracy who ruled the city-states of the Chesapeake
Bay region.  Boy-brothels typically sold off their slaves to a
plantation for field work when they reached sexual maturity,
but Nkomo had kept Seth on to serve any customers who might
fancy an older youth.  Seth's specialty was the giving and
receiving of rough play... taking a spanking or paddling from a
man who found the act an arousing prelude to sex... or delivering
erotic discipline to a customer who wanted to live out submissive
fantasies.

At last, the carriage came to a stop on the cobble-stone pavement
of Gloucester Street, in front of a sizable wood-frame building
that had two bright torches at the front door and candles in each
window of its three stories.  Cleavon woke the boy who slept
soundly on his lap.

"Billy?... Wake up, lad. Pull yourself together," said Cleavon in
a calm but firm voice.  The boy awoke slowly and glanced around
him at the historic colonial-era buildings of Williamsburg, many
of which were over 400 years old, while others were reproductions
made 200 years ago during the Golden Age.  Unlike so many of the
structures remaining from the long-vanished civilization, those
in Williamsburg had proven adaptable to a world that knew nothing
of electricity or central heating.

In the light of the torches, Cleavon ran a comb through the
Billy's wind-blown blond hair.  Then he took a handkerchief from
his pocket, wetted it with his tongue, and wiped a crust of dried
semen from the boy's chin.  Billy's eyes fixed above the
building's entrance on the sign that swayed a bit in the breeze.
Unable to read, he paid no attention to the words that said
"Blue Boy Club".  But he stared at the painted picture showing a
young adolescent lad with honey-brown skin, naked but for a rich
blue velvet cape -- parted to display his body -- and a medieval
style hat of the same material.  One hand rested saucily on his
hip; the other hand was casually positioned to hide his
genitals.  The imaginary boy on the sign also wore a thin blue
slave collar on his neck... the same color and style as the
cloth-covered metal band around Billy's own neck.

As Seth took the carriage back around to the barn, Cleavon said
"Billy, this is your new home.  Be lively, now, and make a good
first impression.  You've done well so far today, and now's the
time to really show your obedience and charms."

As the door to the Club opened, the sounds of conversation,
laughter, and music poured out.  It was bright inside, lit by
numerous candles in chandeliers and in wall sconces.  The thick
air was warm, heated by iron stoves at each end of the room, and
smelled of smoke-weed (harvested from the resinous buds of the
hemp plant). Billy's eyes scanned the 15 men and 6 scantily-clad
boys in the room.  Another man and boy were coming down a
staircase, the boy tucking his fancy white shirt into tight
flannel shorts, and the man red-faced as if he had just run a
race.

A musical instrument the likes of which Billy had never before
seen was played by a handsome youth of 15 years, wearing very
short pants and an open vest. The instrument was an upright
piano, another relic of the vanished civilization of the Golden
Age.

On a small elevated stage at the back of the room was a totally
naked 13-year-old boy with black skin and frizzy hair.  The
slender, small-framed boy was dancing to the music... moving in a
grinding motion that made his surprisingly large flaccid penis
bob and sway hypnotically.  The boy's ebony skin color (as rare
in the Chesapeake region as Billy's whiteness) reminded Billy of
the friend he had left behind... only two days ago when Pa had
sold Billy into indentured servitude... and he felt a pang of
homesickness.  The dancing boy -- whose name was Deon -- looked
bored, and few of the men in the room were paying him any
particular attention.  Other boys were circulating about the
room, flirting with customers, bringing them tankards of beer,
and preparing pipes of smoke-weed for them.

Billy's attention next focused on the youngest boy in the room,
a 9-year-old with dark-tan skin who went by the name of  Cupid.
The lad was perched on the lap of a man who had just drained a
tankard.  The boy wore a short feminine garment of silky
translucent pink material (once known as a "baby-doll nighty") and
was naked from the waist down.  He giggled when the customer's
fingers slid up his inner thigh and fondled his little-boy
erection and compact ball-sack, as the man whispered in the lad's
ear.  A few moments later, the two were on their feet and walking
over to a corner of the tavern room, where a large well-dressed
man -- the proprietor -- sat at a table, a metal strongbox at his
elbow.  The customer paid the proprietor some coins and was then
led up the staircase by the young boy.  As the two left the
tavern room, the customer's hand was playfully caressing Cupid's
naked little butt.

"That's your owner, there at the table," said Cleavon to Billy.
"Follow me.  Stand back a few paces while I speak to him... and
give him your sexiest look whenever he glances your way.

Mr. Nkomo's face brightened when he saw Cleavon approaching, and
then brightened even more when he saw the new slave-boy.

"Greetings, Master," said Cleavon, still using the form of
address that had become ingrained during his years as one of
Nkomo's indentured slaves, and gave the man a discrete kiss on
the lips.  (Such affection between two grown men was somewhat
taboo... quite unlike the commonly accepted practice of men
taking pleasure with slave-boys.)

"Welcome home, my love," said the older man in a low voice.
Gazing over at Billy, who stood a few paces back trying his best
to look alluring, he added "You bought well, Cleavon! Damned if
he doesn't look just like..."

"Like Ganymede!" said Cleavon, finishing the man's sentence. "My
own thought as well, Master."

"Well, let's hope the Duke doesn't take this one to be his
concubine, like he did with Ganymede.  He paid a fair price, but
I'd have made a lot more from selling Ganymede's services."
Then, looking back at Billy, he said  "The lad looks reasonably
intelligent for a whitey.  How are his skills?"

"A very talented mouth, and highly motivated.  I was given a
short demonstration before the auction, and then got a leisurely
suck on the trip up-river from Norfolk Town.   His indenture was
begun just yesterday, and he says he didn't work at the sex-trade
before.  Seems to have a natural knack for the work....  I've no
doubt he'll do well in your bed tonight."

"Does he cum yet?"

"Aye, Master, though I doubt he's been spurting very long... not
a single hair down there," said Cleavon.  "He jacked himself
while up on the block at today's auction.  Put on quite a show
for the bidders, dancing and stroking.  Gave forth a couple of
nice little squirts."  And lowering his voice even more, he added
"I'll wager you'll find his boy-juice tastes as sweet as honey!"

"Excellent!" said the older man, rubbing his hands together.
"I've a mind to try him out immediately.  Look after the cash box,
and close up the Club when you think the time's right."

"Of course, Master.  But before you retire for the night, hows
about we introduce him to the customers for a few minutes?  Get
him up there on platform with Deon and see if he can liven the
stage show a bit."

"A fine idea, Love," said the older man.  "Good business to show
the new boy off and generate a demand for his services."

Cleavon turned to Billy and whispered instructions in his ear,
gesturing over to where Deon was dancing.  Billy nodded his
understanding and pulled off the oversized sweater that covered
him from neck to knees like a loose cocoon.   Underneath was his
new working costume -- antique clothing consisting of a
sleeveless basketball jersey, and underwear briefs so small they
stretched tight over his butt and outlined his genitals in front.
Both garments had been purchased by Cleavon for a substantial
price the previous day.

Billy moved quickly over to the small 4-foot-high stage and
boosted himself up on it.

"Master wants me to dance with you," he whispered to the black-
skinned boy and smiled at him warmly.  Deon smiled back,
instantly enchanted with the pretty newcomer.  The older youth at
the piano noticed the situation and shifted his playing to a
more energetic tune.  As the two began to gyrate on stage, the
eyes of men and boys all around the room turned to watch.

Billy had danced with another boy in just such a manner the
previous day, on the ship that brought him down the Chesapeake
Bay to Norfolk Town, and he had a good idea of what to do.  Deon
was a 3-year veteran of the Blue Boy Club, and knew the drill
almost instinctively.

Billy and Deon danced apart at first, trading off moves as if in
competition to see which could be sexier.  Touching themselves
suggestively, the two boys let their hands glide along their
hips, chests, butts, and crotches.  Then, locking fingers behind
their necks, they moved their hips with blatantly erotic thrusts.
Soon, they were dancing face-to-face, crotches rubbing together,
and their hands wandering over each other's bodies.  When Deon
turned around and began grinding his naked ass against Billy's
crotch, Billy responded by reaching around the dark-skinned boy
with both hands... one caressing his slender boyish chest, the
other fondling his generously proportioned adolescent cock.
Though Deon was only 13 years old, and no taller than Billy, his
penis rose in a perfectly formed 7-inch erection... incongruously
large on a young body and decorated with only a few strands of
pubic hair.

They changed places, with Billy facing the audience and Deon
hugging him from behind.  The dark-skinned lad slowly lifted
Billy's under-sized sleeveless shirt, pulling it completely off
when Billy raised his arms.  Then Deon's hands wandered over
Billy's chest and hips and cloth-covered crotch as their hips
moved in unison.  Lusty comments were shouted out by the
customers in the room, some of them calling out to be first for a
session upstairs with Billy.

When Deon's fingers slipped inside the waistband of the tight
briefs and lowered them slowly, Billy's plump erection was
already standing up at its full 4 inches as it came into view.
Billy's underpants were half-way down his thighs and Deon's
erection was wedged between the younger boy's ass cheeks.  As
they continued their lewd dance, Deon's nimble fingers slid
Billy's foreskin back and forth across his purple cock-head.
Then Deon knelt down, and as he pulled the briefs off completely,
he ostentatiously licked at the globes of Billy's smooth ass.

Four customers stood at the edge of the small platform, reaching
up to fondle Billy.  They were elbowing each other in their
efforts to get closer to the lad when Mr. Nkomo pushed his way
through the crowd.

"Alright gents!  Enough for now!  The new boy's not available for
hire tonight.  Come back tomorrow, though... anytime after
sundown... and he'll be ready to serve your pleasure.  Just to
let you know... the cost will be 8 silvers for an hour with him."
Nkomo lifted Billy down to the floor, leaving Deon standing on
the platform... still sporting an impressive boner.  "Meanwhile,
who'd like a session with this one?" the owner said as if he were
an auctioneer  "Five silvers for an hour with the little blacky
and his big cock."

As Billy was led, stark naked, up to his new owner's private
quarters, he thought about the hours of training he had received
from the  slave-merchant the previous night. 'Submission to your
master must be total' his first master had said. 'And when you
provide sexual service to a man, you must anticipate his desires
and do whatever you think might give greatest pleasure.'

Entering the bedroom, Nkomo instructed Billy to put a shovelful
of coal on the glowing embers in the fireplace, and then use a
thin splinter of wood to light the bedside candles.

"You'll do that each time you bring a customer up to a room,"
said the man. "Now, undress me."

Billy's mind raced with thoughts as to how he might make the
undressing of his new master a satisfying sensual experience for
the man.  As he unbuttoned Nkomo's shirt, Billy's maintained eye
contact, trying to have his face display a mixture of shyness and
desire.  Working the buttons with one hand, his other hand
caressed the man's abundant chest hair and toyed gently with his
master's prominent nipples.  Standing on tiptoes, Billy gently
kissed the man's lips, then opened his mouth to accept his
master's tongue.  As both tongues danced together erotically,
Billy's hands worked the shirt off and then moved down to
unbuckle the belt.  When Nkomo's trousers fell to his knees,
Billy reached for the man's cock with one hand and his full
ball-sack with the other. The cock was long and thick, rising to
full stiffness in his hand.

"Cleavon says you've got a good mouth.  Show me what you can do."

Billy knelt down, gave the large cock a couple more strokes, and
inclined it slightly toward his mouth, looking up into his
master's eyes with an expression of eager lust.  And indeed, he
did feel excited to be pleasuring the man who would own him for
the next 5-1/2 years.  But more than that, Billy understood
perfectly that he needed to make a good impression.  He had been
told more than once since being sold into slavery that life as a
brothel boy could be good... far better than he had ever known in
his previous life of rural poverty... so long as he showed
himself to be talented at the sexual arts.

Billy's lips and tongue began to work on the broad helmet-head of
the musky cock as he fondled the shaft with his fingers.  The
erection was thick and a full 8 inches long... hot and pulsing
with manly lust, oozing fluid from the slit. Though he had never
sucked a man's cock until the previous night, Billy had been
thoroughly trained by the slave-merchant -- whose cock was of
similar stature -- and had then given brief demonstrations of his
oral talents to some twenty prospective bidders before the slave
auction.  Though it wasn't easy, he worked Nkomo's fat cock-head
past the entrance of his throat.  With a few more bobs of his
head, Billy's lips were pressing against the nest of thick black
pubic hair.

"Yes... that's it, boy... let me feel your throat clenching
around it... ahhh, yes!"  Nkomo's hands were pressing against the
back of Billy's head, keeping him from rising back up the thick
8-inch stalk.

Before long, the boy's lungs began to burn, and he felt light-
headed from lack of oxygen.  But he didn't resist; rather, he
made swallowing movements as he had been taught and twisted his
head from side to side.  He was determined that he would rather
pass out than risk his master's displeasure. With his lungs
burning, Billy felt the man's hands pulling his head away.  Even
as he gasped for breath, however, his mouth sought the stiff cock
again, eager to show his readiness to please.

"No, boy; that's enough sucking for now," said the man, lifting
Billy to his feet.  "Get on the bed, in position to be fucked.
Pose for me... make me hungry for you."

Billy had been taught just such a skill by the slave-merchant.
Hopping onto the big feather-bed, he positioned himself on his
left side, drawing up his right leg to display his ass... his
hand gliding along his flank and then parting his ass-cheek to
reveal the pink puckered hole, which he tickled with his finger.
Looking back over his shoulder at his master, Billy's eyes
smouldered with seemingly-real desire.  His tongue slid across
his upper lip invitingly.

"Good... very good," said the man as he stood in the center of
the room, slowly stroking his erection. "But you are not yet
prepared... unless you prefer to take me dry."

"Master?" asked the puzzled boy, flustered at not understanding
what was expected of him.

"There on the table beside you... that dish of oil.  Use your
fingers to oil your hole.  You can't expect me to do it for you.
Cleavon will teach you how to do it discretely when he trains you
further in the pleasure arts."

Billy dipped his fingers into the viscous fluid and brought them
to his anus, rubbing them around the outside and then pushing two
digits into the hole.  Then he used the cloth on the table to
wipe his hand and looked back to his master to seek approval.  A
smile, and the man's continued slow masturbation, told him he's
done it right.

Nkomo eased himself onto the bed and snuggled up against Billy's
back and thighs, running his hand along the slender body, kissing
the back of Billy's neck and inhaling his boyish essence. Then he
reached down to guide his cock-head against the boy's quivering
anal flesh and pushed forward. While not at all brutal, neither
was the man particularly gentle.  He was a man of powerful sexual
appetites and usually enjoyed having his first orgasm flow from a
fast, vigorous fuck.  He would be more interested in a leisurely
approach when he had revived for a second cum... or perhaps even
a third later into the night.

An involuntary gasp escaped from Billy's mouth as the burning
pain emanated from his bottom.  Instinct told him to clamp his
hole shut, but he knew he must push himself open.  As he bit down
hard on the bed-covers, the thick cock-head slid past the circle
of muscle.

"Ahhh... so nice and tight! And you took it with no crying out,"
said the man in a panting voice.  "You're off to a good start,
lad."

And with that, he began pumping his cock into Billy's ass, going
deeper with each stroke as his hands continued to explore the
slave-boy's body and his mouth licked and nibbled at the flesh of
Billy's neck and shoulder and ear.

The worst of the pain was over for Billy, though his bottom
continued to burn.  The feeling of fullness caused by the large
cock churning inside his body was not unpleasant, however, and he
reminded himself that he must pretend to enjoy the experience.

"Oh, YES, Master!" he gasped as his fingers dug into the bed. "It
feels so good to have you inside me!  Your cock is so big...  so
powerful! Please... fuck me harder!"

Perhaps it was the power of suggestion, but as he received thrust
after vigorous thrust, Billy DID begin to feel pleasurable
sensations gradually overcoming the pain.  The fact that Nkomo
began fondling the boy's penis and balls undoubtedly helped
matters.

If he had desired to make the fuck-session last, the man could
have slowed up and kept going almost indefinitely.  There
was no great exertion in fucking a boy as they both lay on their
sides.  But the brothel-owner was hungry for a quick cum, and he
increased his pace instead, grunting with pleasure.  In only a
few minutes, Billy could feel the spasms of the man's orgasm.
Pulse after pulse of hot fluid pumped into the Billy's tight ass
as he clenched his anal muscle around the throbbing phallus.

They lay quietly for a time, in the afterglow of the master's
orgasm, and Billy continued to clench rhythmically on the
softening cock.

"Mmmmm... that's good, boy.... What's your name again?"

"Billy, Master.  And I am gratified that I please you."

"Billy.... Hmmm; I'll have to think about whether to change your
name. It can be good business for my prettiest boys to have fancy
names... Ganymede... Cupid... Pan... Antonius."

The classical references meant nothing to Billy, but he
reflexively replied "Yes, Master."

Nkomo slid his soft cock out of the boy's rectum and turned Billy
around in his arms so that they could kiss, long and deep.  Over
the next half-hour, they caressed and licked and sucked each
other's bodies until the man's lust was recharged and his cock
was again fully hard.  Without prompting, Billy lubricated his
anus and straddled Nkomo's reclining body to ride his master's
cock.  The boy enjoyed taking a man's cock in this position, and
Nkomo made it all the better by toying with his slave's perky
erection throughout the extended fuck.

After the man succumbed to orgasm, he pulled Billy off his cock
and positioned the slave to kneel astride his master's head, with
Nkomo savoring the 4-inch boy-cock in his mouth. Billy  purred
and cooed with a pleasure that didn't need to be acted out, and
he cried out in pure lust as the man's talented lips and tongue
drew forth excited little spurts of boy-cum.  Another interlude
of kissing and licking and petting ensued, during which Nkomo had
Billy serve him a pipeful of smoke-weed... and taught the
boy how to inhale the intoxicating fumes as well.  Finally, Billy
was positioned on his back with his legs drawn up to his
shoulders, to be fucked in a vigorous session that seemed to last
forever.  It ended with Nkomo jacking the boy off... timed so
that the anal spasms of Billy's orgasm would enhance the
master's powerful climax.  Only then did the two fall into
exhausted sleep.

...

The sun was well up in the morning sky when Billy awoke beside
his sleeping master, beneath a feather-filled comforter.  Nkomo's
arm was draped around him, and the man's body spooned against
Billy's back and ass.  The slave boy could feel his master's
stiff cock wedged into the cleft of his butt, and the first
thought to enter his mind was 'What can I do to please my owner?'
Billy pressed back against the man's stout erection and began
grinding his ass erotically... at the same time stroking his own
boy-cock to stiffness.

"Mmmm... you're a sweet one to wake up to, lad," said the man
groggily, reaching down to fondle Billy's 4-inch erection.  "I
fancy another go-round with you, but I've got to drain my piss
first.  Stoke up the fire, boy, and then fetch the chamber pot."

Billy did as instructed, rising from the warmth of the bed and
shivering as he added some coal and used a small hand-bellows to
get the fire glowing.  His master stared lustily at the naked
boy's youthful boner bobbing as he moved, and felt even more
aroused by the boy's beauty.  As Billy brought the chamber pot
from the corner of the room, the man rose up and stood beside the
bed.

Billy stood before his master, positioning the wide-mouthed
ceramic receptacle just below the man's crotch.  But try as he
might, Nkomo couldn't force his cock down to an angle that would
allow him to urinate into the pot.

"Put the bowl down, boy, and get on your knees.  Wrap your lips
around my cock, and drink my water.  Your gullet will be my chamber
pot this morning."

Billy cringed inwardly at the thought, though he hid the reaction
and didn't hesitate to obey.  As he slid his lips over the crown
of the man's hard penis, the slave-boy closed his eyes and tensed
his body.  The first spray of warm, slightly-bitter fluid hit the
roof of his mouth and swirled onto his tongue in a short burst,
and he did his best to swallow it quickly.  The stiffness of the
erection prevented the urine from flowing freely, so Billy was
able to drink almost all of it, with just a bit escaping down his
chin.  Though the taste was not nearly as bad as he had
anticipated, the very concept of performing this degrading act
made him queasy.  But Billy knew that he must instantly obey
every one of his master's commands.  Swallowing the shots of hot
piss, Billy's mouth instinctively moved with the motions of a
baby feeding at his mother's tit.   To the delight of his
master, the slave-boy was actually trying to suck the fluid
out... and causing intense sexual sensations as a result.  When
the flow finally stopped, Nkomo pulled his penis from Billy's
mouth and caressed the boy's silky hair with his fingers.

"Well done.  Keep on doing what it takes to earn my favor, and
you'll find that I reward slaves who please me.  How shall I
reward you now?  I know... I'll let you keep your name.  I had
fancied the name 'Adonis', but I think you'd like 'Billy' better.
Am I right?"

"Yes, Master," replied the boy respectfully, though the idea of
acquiring an exotic name had substantial appeal.  But then he
remembered the life-term slave he'd spoken with two days before,
who had bitterly resented the theft of his birth name.

Billy wiped his chin with the back of his hand and then, of his
own accord, brought his hand and mouth back to his master's
softening penis.  After licking the last drops from the piss-
slit, Billy's lips enveloped the broad cock-head and began
pleasuring it.  As Nkomo's cock firmed up again from the vigorous
sucking and licking, the man gently lifted the boy to his feet.

"Back to bed with us, lad. It's too cold to stand around naked,
and I fancy a nice double-suck to start the day.  Show me how
well you do a 69."

The man lay back on the bed and covered himself with the quilt as
the slave-boy climbed atop him and burrowed head-first under the
covers.  Each swallowed the full length of the other's erection
and began sucking.

"Ah... that's good, lad," said the man, pausing momentarily from
sucking Billy's plump little cock.  "Let's see if you can make us
cum at the same moment."

(Later...)

Sitting at a large table with the 11 other boys, Billy finished
off a hearty breakfast.  It was late-morning.  Back home at his
family's little shack on the Bay, he would already have been at
work for several hours by now.  Billy found the other boys to be
a cheerful and talkative bunch, and they took him in as one of
their own immediately.  None seemed to be put off by the fact
that he was white-skinned.  In fact, four of the others were
whities as well... more than he had ever seen at one time in his
life.

All the lads were dressed in the simple clothing of peasant
youths... not the unusual and provocative costumes they had worn
the night before.  Two of the boys worked at cooking and serving
the food; two others at clean-up.  The brothel had no servants
other than the slave-boys themselves, and each was assigned
chores during the day, with some time for leisure as well.  At
sunset, they would begin again the job of entertaining paying
customers.  That particular work continued until Nkomo decided to
close up for the night... typically around midnight, unless there
were still new customers coming in.

Billy wasn't assigned chores this day.  Instead he was taken
upstairs by Cleavon to one of the bedrooms used to entertain
customers.  For the next several hours, he received a broad range
of training for his work in the brothel.  Rules of behavior were
emphasized... the various chores were explained... techniques of
service were taught in minute detail... and the process of
washing himself between customers was demonstrated and practiced.

The Blue Boy Club's workers had to be skilled at the flirtation,
entertainment, and conversation carried out in the first-floor
tavern, in addition to displaying their talents upstairs in the
bedrooms.  So Cleavon and Billy role-played the interaction of
customer and brothel-boy at length.

Cleavon devoted plenty of time to running through a full
repertoire of sexual techniques, satisfying his lust with boy in
long, leisurely sessions of sexuality.  As a former brothel boy
himself, Cleavon had a wealth of knowledge to pass on to the
novice: new variations of oral pleasuring, techniques for
performing exquisitely-extended masturbation on a customer, new
positions in which to be fucked, and new places on a man's body
to stimulate with mouth and hands.  In addition, Billy learned
the best techniques for a young boy to use in fucking a man.
Though relatively few customers requested such service in a
brothel, some men (like Cleavon himself) appreciated the unique
pleasure of being anally penetrated by a boy.

A paramount rule for the boys of the Club was to refrain from
ejaculating during the day... either by masturbation or in sex
play with another boy.  A boy's cum was to be saved up for the
paying customers, who might want to suck him off, jack his cock,
or watch him masturbate.  (Though at night, after the Club had
closed and the customers gone home, boys were free to do as they
pleased in each other's beds.) Cleavon had intended to abide by
the rule throughout the hours of training, but his lust got the
better of him as he lay face-down on the bed -- his legs splayed,
his ass raised up, his hand jacking his own cock -- with Billy
thrusting his barely-pubescent cock into the man's hole.  The
effeminate master couldn't stop himself from whimpering with
pleasure and pleading for the boy to keep fucking him.  As
Billy's pent-up seed spurted into Cleavon's bowels, the man
reached his own orgasm - his third cum of the afternoon - then
rolled over to envelop the boy in his arms.

In the late afternoon, an hour before sunset, Cleavon announced
that training was finished for the day, and he instructed Billy
to wash up and relax in preparation for the night's work.
Wearing an outfit of ordinary clothes, and carrying the work
costume of briefs and sleeveless shirt, he climbed the stairs to
the boys' dormitory space in the fourth-floor attic of the
building.  It was a windowless room with a low ceiling, holding a
dozen beds, with a simple coal stove in the center providing
abundant warmth.  All of the boys were there... a few napping on
their beds, some of them playing cards, another group partaking
of a pipe of smoke-weed... and two pairs of boys lying on beds,
kissing and hugging with slow, graceful eroticism.  Every one of
the 11 boys was nude.

"Hey, Billy!" called out Seth, the oldest of the boys, as a cloud
of smoke escaped his mouth and floated above his head.  "Come on
over and share my smoke-weed.  First you gotta strip down, though.
We always stay naked up here; that's our tradition.  Your bed's that
one yonder, and there's a box underneath for your stuff."

Billy was no longer shy about being nude in front of others.  In
recent days he'd been displayed naked to dozens of men who were
strangers.  With these other boys, it almost felt natural.
Pulling off his clothes, he stashed them together with his skimpy
costume beneath the bed and joined the others.

Seth had his back to him, and Billy noticed immediately that the
17-year-old's buttocks were bruised and colored a flaming red.

"What happened to you?  Why were you whipped?" asked Billy.

"Oh, that's nothing.  I had a 'special customer' this afternoon.
He paid a premium to warm up my butt before I gave him my
services.  Mr. Nkomo don't let the 'specials' come in during
regular hours, so I got my work done early on. When I take a
whippin' like that, I don't have to serve any more customers for
the rest of the day, and Master also gives me a good-size portion
of smoke-weed.  Not a bad trade off for the pain, eh?  So come on
over and help me smoke up my earnings. I've got enough to satisfy
myself and still let each lad get lung-full off the pipe."

Billy took the bowl and inhaled carefully, still not accustomed
to taking smoke into his lungs.  After he handed the pipe back
and was holding the smoke down, little Cupid came up to him and
put his face close to Billy's.

"Breath it into my mouth when you let it go, OK?  I want to get
some more smoke, so's I'll be nice an' high before work starts."

Billy was amused at such words coming from a 9-year-old, and was
perfectly willing to comply with the strange request.  As he
started to exhale the smoke toward the youngster's mouth, Cupid
locked onto Billy's lips as if in an open-mouth kiss, inhaling
the second-hand marijuana smoke. The little boy also wrapped his
arms around Billy's back and snuggled against his body.  When he
was ready to exhale, Cupid passed what remained of the smoke back
to Billy in the same manner as he'd received it.

"Mmmmm... you feel nice!" murmured Cupid as he rubbed against
Billy like an affectionate cat.  "Wanna go to my bed to kiss for
a while?"  Without waiting for Billy to reply, he took the 12-
year-old's hand and led him back to a bunk.  Feeling the effects
of the cannabis almost immediately, Billy allowed the younger boy
to take the lead as the two of them rolled languidly in each
other's arms, tasting each other's tongues, arms and legs entwined.
Billy was soon lost in a haze of intoxication and eroticism until
Cupid suddenly wiggled free and hopped up.

"That was the bell.  Gotta get ready for work. Come on," said the
little boy.

As Billy's mind came back to the real world, he noticed that all
the others were scurrying about too... washing their bodies with
cloths dipped in a bowl of scented water, drying off, and putting
on their work costumes.  Although he had washed himself only an
hour before, Billy went through the ritual again -- just as
Cleavon had instructed -- running the washcloth over his face,
his armpits, his feet, and his genitals... and taking particular
care to scrub his anus clean.  Then he put on his briefs and
tight shirt and headed down the steps to the tavern room.

As the new boy in the brothel, Billy was the focus of interest
among the regular patrons from the moment the first customer was
let in the door at sunset.  As prosperous men began congregating
in the tavern, drinking ale or smoking pipe-weed, they called out
for the pretty 12-year-old to sit on their laps or dance
sensuously on the stage.  In the course of the evening, he took
six customers... more than the usual night's work.  But Master
knew he had a good money-maker and felt no compunction about
working the boy hard.

Although each of the sessions was different, they all started
with the same preliminaries: Payment by the customer and the
assignment of a vacant room, stoking the fire, lighting the bed-
side candles, and turning over the hourglass that would mark the
duration of the purchased sexual services.

Billy's training had taught him that he should be guided first by
the customers desires, taking the initiative only if the customer
seemed ambivalent or passive.  And indeed, some men knew exactly
what they wanted him to do... an extended suck, kissing and
hugging on the bed, and a fuck in their favorite position.  Some
of the customers desired to suck the young boy, though most did
not.

Those who let Billy take the lead were treated to a full hour of
sensual delight... lying back on the bed to receive full-body
pleasuring from Billy's mouth and hands as the boy snuggled and
sucked and slithered atop the man's body.  Billy would finish a
session with such a customer by straddling the man's hips and
lowering his tight, lubricated anus onto the man's cock, riding
up and down with the aim of prolonging the session until most of
the sand had run through the hour-glass.

Mr. Nkomo made the determination of when the tavern door should
be locked for the night... typically around midnight.  On Billy's
first night of work, the proprietor again took the new boy back
to his room for the night.  The other boys -- those not still
serving a customer on the 2nd or 3rd floor -- ascended to the 4th
floor quarters.  Those with the inclination were free to engage
in boy/boy play before sinking into well-earned sleep... singly
or in the arms of a friend.  Cleavon stayed on in the tavern to
let the last of the customers out the door as they came back down
the steps.  He had one of the boys -- the 15-year-old piano player,
named Jake -- stay with him in the tavern to pass the time until
then.  Afterwards, Jake spent the rest of the night in Cleavon's bed.

When Billy awoke with Nkomo late the next morning, the cycle
began again... another round of morning sex with his master, a
hearty meal with the other boys, several hours of sex-service
training with Cleavon, and a time for leisure before work.  A
half-hour before sunset, however, a well-dressed military officer
arrived at the doors of the brothel and was instantly granted
entrance.

"Tell the proprietor that the Duke has arrived from Norfolk Town
and will be patronizing your business shortly.  He bids you
assemble your boys for his inspection."

"Yes, sir.  Right away!" said Cleavon as he ran off to quickly
rouse the boys from the 4th floor and then tell Mr. Nkomo of the
Duke's imminent arrival.  Whenever the Duke patronized the Blue
Boy Club he arrived early, taking his pick of the boys and
settling in upstairs before the first regular customer arrived.

All 12 boys, freshly-washed and dressed in work costumes,
finished assembling in the ground-floor tavern just before the
Duke's small entourage came through the door.  The ample-girthed
Duke of Norfolk was dressed in a grandiose uniform of the finest
material the current technology could produce.  His two
bodyguards were in standard military attire.  And he was
accompanied by two teenagers -- his own 14-year-old son, dressed
in a fanciful facsimile of a naval uniform and acting rather
shy... and the slave-boy Ganymede, wearing the loose-fitting,
silky costume of an 18th century Arab sultan's harem-boy.
Attached to the purple cloth-covered slave-collar around his neck
was a slender leather leash that was held by the Duke as if he were
walking a pet. The  13-year-old concubine did indeed resemble
Billy to a remarkable degree.  And he projected a cool self-
assurance that belied his status as a life-term slave.

When the Duke and his party sat at one of the tables, Ganymede
knelt beside his master, placidly resting his head on the Duke's
lap, facing the man's crotch as the Duke stroked the beautiful
boy's shoulder-length blond hair.

"Yesterday my son reached his 14th year," said the Duke.  "I've
determined he has reached an appropriate age for pursuing the
recreation of a pleasure establishment.  I had him sample a wench
last night at a sporting house in Norfolk Town, and I think he
should round out his experience with one of your comely boy-
whores.   Line up your lads for Jason to choose from.  And when
he's made his choice, I'll take one of the others up to a room to
assist my concubine in serving me."

"It is a very special honor that you have come to my house, Your
Highness," said Nkomo in his most obsequious manner; "and, as
always, my lads are at your call.... and that of your son.
Boys! Line up and show our distinguished visitors your charms."

The dozen brothel-boys stood side-by-side, and each began posing
in a sexy manner.  Most affected a feminine vampish look, tongue
slithering across pouting lips.  A few of the older boys struck
more masculine poses with heavy-lidded erotic eyes.  Several boys
ran their fingers enticingly across their chests and down to
their crotches, rubbing themselves erect.  Others put their hands
behind their heads to show off already-stiff cocks pressing out
against their tight briefs or short pants.

The oldest of the boys - Seth - was dressed in an open shirt
and a skimpy garment once known as a 'jockstrap'.  He stood with
hands on hips, affecting a masculine pose, his face inscrutable.

The Duke, his son, and Mr. Nkomo walked along the line of boys
like army officers reviewing their troops.  The ruler had no
hesitation in fondling several boys who aroused his lust,
stroking their hair, touching their bodies, sticking his hand
inside their pants for a feel of their erections.  His son
blushed with embarrassment as he looked at the boys, but his eyes
betrayed a hungry desire.

"Have your lads show themselves fully," instructed the Duke.

"Of course, Your Majesty," replied the proprietor and nodded to
the boys.

Each of the 12 pulled off his clothing to display himself nude.
Most of them executed the move with a practiced gracefulness,
borne of innumerable instances of sexy stripping for a customer.
Any boy whose penis wasn't already stiff quickly jacked it hard
for inspection by the father's and son's lustful staring.

"Which do you fancy, Jason?" prompted the Duke.

"This one, Father," replied the boy, pointing to Billy.  He spoke
in a quiet voice but without hesitation.

The man sighed. He looked back at Ganymede, who had remained
kneeling on the floor.  The Duke's thoughts drifted back to the
shouting and unpleasantness, less than a month previously, when
he had discovered his concubine in bed with his son, and had broken
up their secret love affair.  The Duke has devised a suitable
punishment for the young lovers, and had been assured that such
insolence would never recur.  But the Duke was not at all
surprised that Jason would choose the boy-whore who so closely
resembled his beautiful Gany.

"Very well," said the father.  "Take him upstairs for some fun."
And then, turning to Nkomo, he added "And I'll take the young one
here," gesturing to Cupid.  "He'll do fine for a threesome with
me and Ganymede".  Cupid grinned broadly, honored by the
selection and excited at the prospect of working a 3-way with the
beautiful concubine.

No money was paid by the Duke.  A gift for Mr. Nkomo would be
forthcoming from the royal court if the Duke had been satisfied
with the pleasuring, and it would be substantially more valuable
than the fee for a boy.  Before Billy led his 14-year-old
customer upstairs, Cleavon whispered in his ear that there should
be no time limit on the session, and that he should be especially
attentive to accommodating the young customer's desires.

Billy, who was still stark naked, led the way to a bedroom.  There
he stoked the coal fire as usual and went to light the candles.
But the Duke's son stopped him.

"I wish for the room to remain darkened."

"Of course, master."

"I want you to be...." The teenager faltered, murmuring in an
unsure voice.  "I want to pretend you are Gany... that boy who
was with my father.  Do you understand?"

"Yes, master," Billy replied, though in fact he didn't.

"First off, don't call me 'master'.  I'm Jase, and you're Gany.
We're lovers.  Come to my arms and kiss me."

"OK... Jase," said Billy in a friendly voice, getting into the
game.  As he embraced the older boy and flicked his tongue
against Jason's mouth, Billy also began to unfasten and remove
the youth's clothing.  In a short time, the Duke's son was also
naked, and the two were hugging and tongue-kissing with building
passion, stroking each other's cocks in excited lust.

"Oh, Gany....!  I still love you with all my heart... I'm so
sorry for what happened. I never would have hurt you like that,
but what could I do? I hate my father for making me whip you!"
And with those words, he sank to his knees.  His mouth enveloped
Billy's stiff penis, and he began sucking with reverence and
passion.

Billy had no idea, of course, what he'd been talking about.  He
didn't know that Jason had been required to take a leather strap
to the concubine's ass... compelled to whip Ganymede viciously
for the crime of illicit love.  The guilt had burned into Jason's
soul; it was he who had seduced his father's slave and had
schemed to find times when they could be alone together to make
love.  The whipping had been harsh, because the Duke had demanded
it be so, but Jason's psychic pain in wielding the punishment
strap was at least as bad as the physical pain that Ganymede had
borne.

"Pay me back, Gany," whispered Jason looking up into Billy's
eyes.  "Get the belt from my trousers and redden my ass, like I
deserve.  Then fuck me with your beautiful cock.  Fuck me like
you did those times before... make it last forever!"

Billy felt his face blush at what he was being told to do, but
Cleavon's instructions had been unambiguous.  He was to serve the
young customer's desires completely.

"You shouldn't have hurt me like that, Jase," Billy ad-libbed, as he
pulled the thick leather belt from the boy's pants.  "I loved you
and you betrayed me," he added, using the clues that his customer
had provided.  "Bend over with your hands resting on the bed.
Raise up your ass and receive your punishment."

Billy could feel his erection throbbing as he grasped the buckle
in his palm and wrapped the belt around his hand, looking down at
the plump tan ass cheeks of the over-privileged aristocratic
youth.  He felt a strange exhilaration as he raised the belt up
and brought it whistling down.

End of Part 4
(Want more? Write to me at bil47_new@yahoo.com)