Date: Sun, 23 Nov 2003 00:48:16 -0800 (PST)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: St: A Slave's Life, Part 13 (the end!)

A SLAVE'S LIFE, Part 13 (concludes)

By Pete Brown     petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

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


We inched across the thick carpet, and Craig picked up
the prod that the two young men had left lying
casually on the bedside cabinet.

"Do you think the guards are watching this on TV", he
whispered.

"I don't think so - these are the private, family
quarters.  It's not like we were in the slave pens.
I'd guess that they like their privacy, and that these
rooms are not only not monitored, but that they're
pretty well soundproofed.  I don't suppose the owner
would like his sons to hear what he's doing sometimes
with some of the slaves he must bring here."

We slid into the luxurious bathroom - all marble tiles
and mirrors - and the two young men were so intent on
their mutual exploration of their bodies that they
failed to notice us immediately.

"Christ, I need a piss!", Craig announced in a loud
voice, and the two men splashed around in shock when
they saw us both standing there.

"Get out, slave...."  I'll say this for the owner's
son - he recovered his composure very quickly, and
managed to try to be in control.

"Shut the fuck up, boy!", Craig snapped in reply.
"One more word out of you and this prod goes in the
water.  Ever seen a slave prodded....? Yes, of course
you have!  Ever thought it would happen to you and
your playmate?  I wonder if the effect is worse if
water helps make the contact with your naked
flesh....?"

Craig went and stood at the edge of the bath, then
started to piss!  He directed the thick, heavy stream
of piss over both young men, and they frantically
tried to cover their heads and faces with their hands
to stop the torrent hitting them.

"Your turn, Jon."

"No, I don't need to piss..."

"Yes you do!  I need you to piss.  I need you to piss
over these lads, to show them who's in charge now.
Get over here, and get started!"  Craig sounded so
angry, that I decided it would be best to go along
with him to avoid him losing it completely.

I've never pissed over anyone before, and it was quite
interesting.  Actually, watching the two guys wriggle
and try to get away from the direct blast as I played
my cock up and down over them was almost funny!  And
it was a good experience - you are totally dominant
when you hose your piss over another man.  I filed the
experience away as something I'd do again, if we got
out of there.

When I'd finished, Craig leaned down over the bath and
grabbed the owner's son by one arm, and hauled him to
his feet.  The lad stood there, dripping water off his
naked body, whilst his mate still lay in the bath
underneath him.

"Do you need to piss, too?", Craig asked him.  "Yes, I
think you do.  Start pissing!"

The son didn't want to, I could tell, but he could see
Craig was in no mood for an argument.   And as well as
being bigger and stronger than the lad, Craig was
clutching the prod rather menacingly.

The lad let fly, but almost stopped in shock as Craig
reached in and casually took his cock and directed it
over his mate who was still lying there, drenching the
poor guy's head and shoulders.  We could all smell the
pungent piss scent  now filling the room as the hot
piss mixed with the warm bath water.  I realised that
this was another way Craig was telling both of them
that things had changed - Craig was directing the
piss, using the son's cock just as a hose.

As soon as the son had dried up, Craig dragged him out
of the room, telling me to keep a close watch on the
lad still in the bath.  "I don't expect he'll try
anything", Craig said, "As he's not so stupid to take
on someone who's three inches taller, fifty pounds
heavier, and who's used to tough manual labour!"

So I stood there and looked down at him, and he looked
up at me.  After a few moments, he said quietly
"Please.... Please..... "

"What?"

"Look, please don't hurt me.  Just let me go.  I won't
tell anyone..."

"Won't tell anyone what?  That you went off to a
foreign country and raped a guy?  That you connived
with keeping a man captive in London?  That you raped
another man in London?"

"No.. You've got it wrong..."

"Not from my perspective, I haven't!"

"No... Please... Just let me go.  We'll let you and
your fiend go.  We'll pay you - his father's got
money...  I didn't mean to do anything wrong - it was
just a bit of fun, something to do in the vacation,
before going to Uni...."

It was pathetic, really.  Begging like that.  He'd
acted like a man, using his cock up my ass and Craig's
ass, and now he was just like a school boy who's been
found out, and wants to escape punishment.

I didn't know what to say, but at that moment Craig
came back into the room and hauled him up out of the
water, then half-dragged him out of the room, dripping
water all the way.

In the bedroom Craig picked up the collars and cuffs
that the guards had taken off us and quickly and
efficiently cuffed the lad's wrists behind his head,
just as we'd been.  Then he almost threw him onto the
bed, to lie there next to the owner's son who was
similarly restrained.

"I think a fucking competition's in order, Jon, don't
you?  Their winner was the one who shot his load
first, but I think we ought to take our time - it's
the last one to cum who wins, OK?"

"Actually", he went on, "It's not exactly the same
game, as, unlike you two the first time, we're not
going to take you dry."

As he was speaking Craig knelt on the bed beside the
owner's son, and started to wank him.  The lad
couldn't resist, of course, and after a couple of
strokes I could see his cock head sticking our from
Craig's clenched hand as he vigorously - and I do mean
vigorously - wanked away.  It must have been a bit
painful for him, as you could see from his expression
that he wasn't enjoying it at all, and I thought of
how it would be to have Craig's work-calloused hands
gripping my cock really tight, then wanking me!

"Come on, Jon - milk yours, too."

"No - I'm going to use the luxury product!  Specially
bottled on a well known estate, and imported and sold
at enormous expense to the discerning."

The owner's son shot his load at this point, and Craig
cleverly pointed the lad's cock up towards his head
just as he did so, causing the cum to be shot all over
his chest.  Craig was idly mopping some of this up and
rubbing it into his erect cock, as I took the little
bottle, released the lid, and started to slather my
cock with the cool viscous liquid.

"I wonder if we know any of the slaves who contributed
to this?", Craig said, pointing at the bottle.  "You
know, if it's so rare and precious, it's a pity to be
using it just to slick a slave's cock like yours!
Like a rare vintage wine, it ought to be savoured and
enjoyed...."

He took the bottle out of my hands, then lightly
vaulted to sit astride the owner's son's chest,
pressing his knees down into the lad's shoulders to
pinion him to the bed.

"Yes", he went on "A luxury product like this should
be really appreciated by a rich man's son..."

He held the bottle near the owner's son's nose, then
tipped it up so that a big glob of the semen dripped
out and lay on the lad's upper lip.  The lad was
struggling and his hips and legs were bucking up and
down, but there was absolutely nothing he could do to
dislodge Craig's weight.  And Craig's knees kept the
lad firmly under control.

Craig smeared the spunk all over the lad's upper lip,
and into his nose.

"How does that slave cum smell?", he asked.  "Does
that remind you of all the slaves you've used?"

"Now, open wide....", he went on.  And when the lad
did nothing, Craig reached down and pinched his
nostrils together.  To breathe, the lad opened his
mouth, and as soon as he did Craig jammed his fingers
and thumb into the lad's cheeks, forcing him to keep
it open.

With almost infinite slowness Craig held the bottle
above the lad's open mouth and tipped it.  All four of
us watched almost in horror as a huge glob of the
thick, white semen formed on the edge of the neck,
then lengthened into a long drool before dropping
majestically into the waiting mouth.

I thought the owner's son was going to choke, as he
desperately tried to spit it out.  But Craig pushed
his mouth shut, and held it closed - there was no way
the lad could avoid the power of Craig's strong
fingers.

"There... That wasn't so bad, was it?", Craig said,
mockingly.  "I expect you're used to taking slave cum
fresh from the cock, and the preserved, pasteurised
stuff's a bit of a let down..."

"Bastard!"  The lad seemed to be recovering.  "I don't
suck cock, especially not slave cock!  So, no, I don't
take slave cum!  Slaves are there to suck my cock,
and....."   He stopped, abruptly, as he realised what
he'd said.

Craig shuffled forward so that he was now towering
over the lad's chest, his cock almost directly over
his face.

"Perhaps we'd better have a lesson in cock sucking
before we go on", he said, looking down at the lad.
"Open your mouth, and put your tongue out."

"No... I won't...."

His sentence was cut off, as there was a resounding
"slap" noise - Craig had half turned around and
slapped the lad's belly, very hard.  I could see a red
hand-print outlined on the pale flesh.

"Do as you're told!  Open your mouth, and put your
tongue out..."

The lad complied, fortunately, I think, as Craig
didn't seem to be in a mood to be trifled with. Being
cinched has some problems, and the way it makes you
jut out means that you can't just feed your cock in to
a guy's mouth - Craig had to force his cock downwards,
but he decided not to go right in - he played his cock
head over the son's lips and tongue, all the time
wanking himself slightly, so that towards the end a
few drops of pre-cum were  dripping on to him.

I don't know exactly what Craig had in mind, but as we
were so intent on watching this, his mate had slowly
slid off the bed and made a run for the door.  Of
course the stupid lad hadn't thought it through - with
your hands cuffed behind your neck you can't open a
door!

He almost cowered as I advanced on him, and, as I
think I've mentioned before, I suppose we do look
fierce even if we mean no real harm - our general
musculature, our deep, dark tan, the cinched cock
pointing angrily forward, and the nose ring, all
combine to make us look like thugs even if were not.

The lad cowered to the floor, and was almost sobbing
"Please, sir... Please don't hurt me...."

I contrasted this behaviour with the way that Stu had
bravely face the two guards who fucked him so
brutally.  This lad was prepared to be big and tough,
and fuck Craig and me when we were helpless, but, when
it came to it, he was jut a snivelling coward.

I didn't bother to say anything, but to emphasise just
how much he was in our power, I picked him up bodily
and threw him over my shoulder so that his head was
hanging just above my bum, his cock was pressed into
my shoulders, and I stopped him from sliding off by
wrapping one of my strong arms around his thighs.  I
carried him across the room as if he weighed nothing,
and threw him back on to the bed.

And then Craig and I fucked them.  I enjoyed the tight
ass of the one I had, and I could see Craig revelling
in forcing himself into the owner's son.  And it was
so much better to be doing it like this - two studs,
two great buddies, Craig and me together, showing how
superior we were to the effete rich young men.  They
had no dignity - their cries weren't caused by pain,
or shame, as ours had been.  No, they just cried out
because they never thought it would happen to them,
never thought that heir rich, privileged world could
so easily be blown apart by two ordinary guys like
Craig and me.  I'd never felt so good, so right about
a fuck, and I wanted it to go on and on.  I did all I
could to control my lust, wanting to enjoy my power
for as long as possible.  But the more I revelled in
my superiority, the more excited I became and the more
I needed to shoot.

Afterwards, Craig stuffed the lads' boxers into their
mouths to keep them quiet, then we took them in the
lift - all four of us naked and pressed close together
- down in to the basement.

Craig pushed open the door of the room where we'd been
kept, and we both rushed in.  It was easy to overpower
the two guards- without their prods they were totally
unable to defend themselves against our strength and
the sheer unexpectedness of our attack.

I unlocked the cell and Stu came out, and we pushed
the two young guys in and locked the door.

"Get naked!", Craig rapped at the guards.

"What...?"

"You heard!  Strip. Get naked.  You're the only ones
in here with clothes on, and I want you naked like the
rest of us."

Craig and I were holding the prods now, and trembling
and afraid, the two guards slowly removed their
garments as we watched.

"Our mate Stu tells me you like fucking young guys",
Craig said to them.  "Is that right?"

"No.... We're just ordinary men.   We're married...."

"But you both fucked him, right?  If you don't like
it, why did you do it?"

"Well, it's boring down here on guard all the time.
And anyway, the owner's son told us to...."

"OK!  Jon and I are bored.  So now we're going to tell
you to fuck, as we'd like our boredom relieved."  As
Craig was speaking, he opened the cell and roughly
pushed the two guards in.  They and the two young men
stood there, looking out at us.

"Right, guards.  Fuck those two.  You're experienced
at fucking young guys against their will, and I want
to see you in action."

All our shouted no, and told us they weren't going to
do it.   So Craig unlocked the cell, stepped inside,
and "prodded" all four of them.

I suppose I should have felt sorry for them, but,
after all, they'd brutally raped me, and Craig, and
Stu.  And the guards never hesitated to use the prod
on us.

We waited until they'd finished writhing and groaning,
then Craig repeated is command.  This time it was only
the young guys who protested, and when he advanced
towards the cell again with the prod, the two burly
guards had had enough - they pushed the two young men
down to the ground and started to fuck them "doggy
style".

I'm not a Christian, but I do admire the Christian
beliefs, and  I could see how much sense it all made.
If I was going to be a religious guy I'd certainly
become a Christian rather than a Buddhist or a Muslim
or anything - it's the only one that seems to make any
sense, and certainly the only one that lets men fuck
each other and even condones rape.  I was watching a
perfect example of the Christian ethic in action right
in front of my eyes - "do unto others as you'd be done
unto", and "love thy neighbour as thyself" were being
enacted there in that cell as the two guards
vigorously fucked away at the young men.  As at least
none of them would need to feel at all guilty
afterwards, I mused, as their god encouraged it.

Afterwards, as they all sat against the wall, looking
rather dejected,  I thought, Stu turned to me and said
"Well, it's all right for you guys - you've fucked the
two young guys, and they've had the guards fuck them.
But those two bastards raped me, and I'm still
unsatisfied.... I want them punished"

"Oh, come on, Stu - you always take it up the ass.  It
can't have been that bad to have those guards fuck
you.  I know they're not as good specimens of manhood
as Craig and me, but they aren't bad looking - they've
got OK cocks, too.  And, anyway, they will be punished
- do you think the owner will let them keep their jobs
after he's learned they've fucked his son and his
friend?  Actually, I bet they'll be lucky to escape
enslavement:  I wouldn't be surprised if the owner
doesn't order them 'taken' so they can't talk about
their experience.  I bet they'll be down the mines
next week, if not sooner!"

"No - I want to fuck them!"

"But you don't fuck... You've never fucked me, or any
of the other guys in the group..."

Stu turned to Craig and took a prod out of his hand,
then went to the cell, unlocked it, and gestured to
one of the guards to come out.  The poor guy was
almost shivering with fear, but Stu marched him over
to a crate, and roughly pushed him down over it.

Stu really grew up that day.  I'd seen him progress
from a very young man of 16, eager to please as a
water boy,  through to being "one of us" in the group
as he'd matured - but he'd always wanted to please me,
and, to a lesser extent the other guys, and was always
trying to get my cock up his ass.  He'd never shown
any inclination to "top", and he'd never taken the
lead in anything.

I think it was good that he was able to assert himself
in this way.  He carried on fucking in spite of the
guard's cries of protest that turned into shouts of
outrage, and then whimpers of pain as Stu's hard cock
forced its way home.  He needed to work off his rage
at the way he'd been treated, and after being a slave
for so long, it was the first step back to being a
proper free man.

When he'd pulled out and we'd locked the guard back in
the cell with the others, Craig, Stu and I showered.
This is the first time we'd ever showered together as
free men, and it was somehow different - we gladly
crowded together under the single shower head so that
we could enjoy each others bodies ,and that was so
much better than being forced into a humiliating
closeness.  We laughed and joked as we soaped each
other, playfully tweaked our nipples and hefted our
balls, and ran soapy hands along cocks and down ass
cracks.

"OK, now let's get out of here, and tell the police",
I said.

"No, Jon.  That won't do any good.  They'll never
believe us.  And all these guys will lie through their
teeth, and say we broke in her and raped them, or
something - and they'll find our cum up their holes,
after all.  Let's just leave...."

Well, it's easier said than done.  We were naked, and
had no clothes.  We went through the house, ransacking
the wardrobes in the luxurious bedrooms, but there was
very little suitable - we were all big, muscular guys,
and most of the clothes were for the "regular" sized
owner and his son.  We ended up dressed mostly in
"exercise" clothes, and even then we looked vaguely
obscene - the fabric stretched very tight over our
muscular frames, and our cinched cocks making quite a
statement as they bulged prominently through the
fabric.

It was whilst we were doing this search that Stu came
across a safe, behind a picture in the master bedroom
suite.  It had a combination lock on it, and Craig
suggested that perhaps there was cash in there - these
rich men, he suggested, always kept a big supply on
hand in case "something went wrong" and they needed to
flee the country.

He went out, and came back a few minutes later with
the owner's son, still cuffed  and naked.

"Right.  Open the safe."

"No... I can't..... I don't know the combination....."

Craig reached down and squeezed the lads balls  hard.
He shrieked with the suddenness of the attack, and the
agony it caused him.

"Perhaps you didn't hear what happened to a friend of
mine on your father's estate", Craig said
conversationally.  "He offended one of your father's
guests, and so as an amusement they all spent some
time 'playing' with his balls.  I was one of the other
slaves brought in to provide 'after dinner
entertainment', and all I could do was stand and
watch.  The pain made him lose his temper completely,
unfortunately, as when one of the men then went to
fuck him, he hit out. Your father ordered my friend to
be castrated there and then, and they did it on the
dinner table, with a carving knife."

"So I know something about playing with a man's balls,
and I've seen a castration done.  And I'm absolutely
no friend of your fathers.  So I suggest you try to
open the safe - if there's a lot of money in there it
might just persuade me to send you back to your father
intact."

"No... Honestly, I don't know.....", the lad wailed.

Craig squeezed him again, and I think it must have
been harder this time as the lad doubled up with the
pain, and seemed almost to be vomiting.

"Last chance", Craig said, icily calm. "Next time,
it's the knife.  And as you won't be needing your cock
when you've lost your balls, as once your hormones dry
up you won't feel like fucking, I've decided to take
that off, too.

Much to my relief, as I thought Craig honestly would
go through with his threat, the son whispered "try
this......"  He had a small gold chain around his neck
with a medallion on it, and gestured at it.  Craig
brutally ripped the chain off the lad, and went and
fiddled with the safe, using stuff written on the
medallion.

You could have herd a pin drop in that quiet London
bedroom, with its thick carpets and heavy drapes
keeping out the normal city noise.  If anyone had
looked in, who would have guessed what four naked men
were doing?  Then there was a "click", and Craig swung
the door open.

______________________________


As I sit here on the terrace of our house writing this
memoir, what happened after we got the money out of
the safe has dimmed to  a bit of a blur.  We took the
owner's son back down and locked him in the cell with
his mate and the guards, telling them we'd send the
police to release them later.  Then, wearing our
incredibly tight clothes, we let ourselves out of the
house into a very exclusive Holland Park road, just as
dawn was breaking.

We had a few problems - the taxi we found didn't want
to accept Euros, and that's all we had - great wads of
100 Euro notes!  And when we tried to check into a
hotel at six in the morning, dressed as we were and
without credit cards, they took a lot of persuasion -
although a very large cash deposit did help.

All three of us slept in the same bed in the luxury
suite we took, and it was probably the best sex I'd
ever had - relieved of all the tensions, we fucked and
fucked!  I still wanted to go to the police, but, when
we woke up after a brief sleep to find it lunch time,
the local news on the TV showed shots of a "major fire
in Holland Park", and we saw the house where we'd been
kept in flames.  They interviewed the guards and the
owner's son and his friend, who all said that it was
totally sudden and unexpected - they'd "been woken by
the flames and were lucky to get out alive."

"See", said Craig.  "These super rich can get away
with anything.  Someone found them, and they've very
cleverly destroyed the evidence - we'll never be able
to show we were imprisoned there."

And, later, even though we spent hours at the Foreign
Office, I could never convince anyone to take my story
of being enslaved on the estate seriously.  Actually,
I think the senior official I finally met did believe
me, but he wouldn't admit it - "diplomatic relations
with important trading partners" were not going to be
upset, I saw.

It was hard, too, to get rid of the cash - the
anti-drug laws make it really hard to do anything with
very substantial cash sums, but fortunately I knew a
bit about the banking system from when  I was working,
and by opening a number of accounts (not in itself
easy these days, when you've got no "history") and
dribbling the cash in over almost a year, we did
manage it.

I suppose I could have gone back to my "old" life and
got a job back in the City, but having used my body
for work, I knew this was what really satisfied me.
Craig was a labourer anyway, and could never do a
"desk job".  We wanted Stu to go to Uni, but he said
he didn't want to catch up on three years of missed
education.   So we decided to go into business.

We moved to this really nice small town on the coast
in Devon, where it's a lot more sunny than most parts
of the UK.  We have a nice house with a sea view,
bought with the owner's cash.  There's a lot of
retired people here, and they're always remodelling
their houses and gardens, and they can afford to do
it, too!  So when three hardworking "respectable" men
set up shop as general labourers and landscapers, the
business just flowed in.

All Summer we work stripped to the waist, as we all
like feeling the sun beat on our backs as we work.
And, of course, around the house, we all go naked, all
the time - we can easily afford the heating bills!

Sex was a bit of a problem after a time - Craig always
wanted to fuck me, and Stu always wanted to be fucked
by me.  But, as I've told you, I quite like to arrange
things to suit myself - and although Stu has
everything you'd want in a bed companion, you do get
tired of the same ass, night after night, don't you?

I found this great club in London, though - it's a bit
of a pain to get to, as we're three hours away - but
most Saturday nights you'll find me there.  Craig and
Stu understand it's my bit of escapism, and I think
they find it quite funny that I go there and put
myself through it - I don't get back until nearly
lunch time on Sunday, and I'm always dog tired for the
rest of the day.  You go in, strip and lock all your
clothes away, and then it's up to you to take what ass
you can - they only allow 'tops' in, and you have to
argue and fight to subdue a guy if you want to fuck
him.  You can almost smell the testosterone in the
air, and most times I do get to fuck and manage to
avoid taking it - although when I lose out, it only
spurs me on to try harder next time.

Craig and I had our snout rings taken out as we tend
to go and call on potential new customers, and we make
a lot of money by being seen to be very "polite" and
helpful - and a snout ring just doesn't go with that!
But Stu is proud of his, and I think most people in
the town think he's just a young punk who will grow
out of it.  We've told everyone we're brothers, and
customers keep commiserating with me about "your wild
young brother" and how they're sure "he'll learn one
day, and grow up to be just like you".  I sometimes
wonder what these folk would think if they knew I
fucked him almost every night, and that we have to
keep the double glazing  closed, even in Summer, to
avoid his cries of passion disturbing the neighbours.
It's even more amusing when women around the town -
especially the summer visitors - try to flirt with
him, attracted by his nice body, his handsome face and
quick smile, and his general attitude to life.

All of us decided to keep our cinch rings - although
it is a bit of a problem when we want to go swimming
in the local public pool:  in our work jeans our very
prominent bulges are almost unnoticed, but you try
wearing Speedos when your cock is being forced out in
front of you.

I said earlier that slavery taught me things about
myself, and, in a way, I ought to be grateful to the
owner.  Without his ordering me to be "taken", I'd
never have met Stu and Craig, I'd have gone through
life in some boring office job, and would probably
have got fat and flabby.  Now I work hard physically,
never have a moments worry, have all the great sex I
want, and continue to be in superb shape physically.
I had a lot of friends before I was enslaved, but
nothing can compare with the real bonding I have with
Craig and Stu.

We do worry about the other slaves in our group still
on the estate, but we can't do anything about it -
I've told you the Foreign Office wouldn't help, and
there's just no way we can search an entire country
looking for an estate  full of slaves, is there?  We
don't even know in which part of the country we were
kept!

So that's it, really - a slave's life, from free man,
through those "interesting" years, and out the other
end.  There's only one piece of advice I'd give all
you fit young guys reading this - you probably don't
want to try it:  you might not be as lucky as me, and
might end up down them mines or in the organ banks.
So if you're fond of displaying your body in public,
on the Rugby pitch, or at the swimming baths, or
whatever - watch out:  you could be the next one the
owner orders to be "taken".

The End.
Pete Brown, London, August/September 2003.