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A story written by Pete Brown (Part 16 of 30). (Here you can find all the parts of this story.)


Jake and I showered. We didn’t say much. I was amazed – even after I’d fucked him such a short time ago my dick was rearing upwards ready for more. Perhaps there were some advantages of only being eighteen! Or perhaps it was the feeling of Jake’s body sliding under my soapy hands that was so arousing as we washed each other – and I realised something else I’d been missing all my life, too: it’s really great to have another guy wash your back, isn’t it?

In spite of me telling him that Reb would do it, Jake insisted on standing there rinsing out his work shirt in the hand basin as it was ‘something a guy should do for himself.’ I told him that was silly as it was something I’d never done for myself, and Jake simply gave me one of those smiles that he did, as if passing some comment about my lifestyle as a whole.

We went downstairs, and Jake asked to see some of the house, so we went into the dining room and I proudly showed him the dinner table that could comfortable seat twenty, and he asked “And how often does your dad give dinners like that?”

“Well, never. But he could if he wanted to – it’s time really: most nights we eat at a table in the kitchen, or in the den…”

Then when we went into the huge formal drawing room he had a stupid question “So with four sets of couches, which ones do you actually sit in?” – he didn’t seem to understand that if we ever had a lot of visitors they might all be used, but of course we never really went in there anyway as we didn’t have many visitors, and the den was much more comfortable for dad and me. Like wise we didn’t play pool on the pool table in the games room as dad didn’t have time.

We ended up in the kitchen, and Reb had set places at the table in there where I usually ate as it was easier for Mrs Williams to serve us. “You’ve set four places, Reb, and there are only three of us”, I remarked.

“You, Jake, Greg, me…”

“Greg’s a pony. Animals aren’t allowed in the house.”

“Aw, come on, Steve”, Jake told me. “It’s cold out there at this time of year – Reb and Greg will get chilled enough at the barbecue, at least let them eat indoors.”

I shrugged. “OK, this once, then. But we still only need three sets of cutlery, Reb. Greg eats slave chow and he can do that straight from the wrapper.”

“But sir… Greg helped me cook it. Dug the potatoes, washed the lettuce….”

“And what the fuck’s that got to do with anything? If we had a slave chef, rather than Mrs Williams, do you think he would get to eat all the fancy food just because he’d cooked it?”

Jake again intervened. “Can he at least have some as a favour to me tonight, please? We need to get him built up if I’m to be able to sell quickly at a good price, and I don’t care what they say about that slave chow, whatever’s in it can’t possibly be as good for a young guy like Greg as proper steak.”

I wasn’t in a mood to deny Jake much after our epic fuck, so I told him OK, as a favour to him, but I saw Reb glaring at me and looking pleased at Jake. I really had to do something about his attitude soon.

The dinner was pretty good, actually – Reb clearly knew a thing or two about barbecuing. And I don’t think Jake was used to having such excellent quality meat – he said at first it was tough and his knife didn’t slide through it, and I had to point out to him that this was imported from France where meat was expected to be properly chewy and have real texture, and going along with that was superb flavour that you simply didn’t get in home-produced cheap beef. I wasn’t very happy with the way Greg added something to the conversation every now and then – the others seemed interested in what he had to say about life as a ‘fancy’, but I knew he was only storing up trouble for himself if he got into the habit of speaking.

Jake and Reb had a few more cans of beer, and I guess that the conversation turned towards sex, as guys do when they’re relaxed with a few drinks inside the,. Reb was talking about the first woman he’d ever fucked – he was sixteen. Then to my amazement Jake said it was about the same for him, too. “But…”, I interrupted. “That was before I discovered proper sex, Steve, of course! I haven’t had a woman – haven’t had to – since I was seventeen: there have always been enough guys around.”

Then Reb asked Greg, and he blushed a bit. “It’s part of the training for a ‘fancy’, you know. On the training ranch, in the first week, they put us to a mare – we all had to watch each other in the class, and then comment on the style and technique. And we were expected to improve, every class, and they caned us if we weren’t enthusiastic enough, or if we shot before the mare had climaxed, or if they called out instructions and we didn’t obey them…

But once I was trained and sold, my mistress certainly didn’t want me to perform – I know it’s rumoured that a lot of mistresses only buy fancies so they can have a cute guy around for their pleasure, but it wasn’t true in my case, so I haven’t had a mare since I left the training ranch. And my last owner didn’t even allow me to jerk off- he thought a pony should always show ‘ hard’, and anyway he said he didn’t want me wasting my energy as I ought to be using it for pulling him.”

“An what about you, Steve? All of us did it at sixteen. When did you have your first woman?”, Reb asked. The bastard! I knew that he knew how it was with women in our level of society, and he was doing it deliberately, to embarrass me.

“Oh, about the same, you know”, I muttered as casually as I could.

“Hey, I knew you were a real stud”. Jake slapped me on the back as he said this. “I know how hard it is to get bitches around here to put out – always worried about their reputation, always terrified of their families. You’re a pretty sexy guy, but I didn’t realise how sexy! Your dad must be very proud of you….”

Oh shit! Why couldn’t he just shut up, and talk about something else? It was bad enough having to lie about my experience at all, and now it looked as if I was going to have to elaborate on it. So I tried to be sort of neutral, and let them draw their own conclusions. “Oh, dad and I don’t talk about that kind of stuff – he’s a real gentleman, and thinks a gentleman keeps a discrete silence about his conquests.”

Reb looked at me, and I could tell he knew I wasn’t telling the truth. The bastard now asked “So which do you reckon is better, ….sir? The women – or raping a guy?”

Well that one was easy at least – although the way he described my perfectly legitimate use of his as ‘rape’ spoke of a bad attitude – “Oh come on, Reb! If you’d had the experience I have, you’d know you can’t compare. It’s like ‘do you prefer apples to pears?’ – each has its own merits.”

I smirked inwardly at the way I’d got out of that. Then before anyone else got to ask a question I added “Go and search the freezer, Reb – Mrs Williams makes ice cream, and she must store it in there.”

It turned out it was the first time Greg had eaten ice cream since before he was enslaved. “I’ve often seen owners give ponies treats, so I’m surprised”, I commented. “At the station, waiting for dad, I’ve seen owners give their ponies bits of apple, a grape, sometimes a half-eaten ice cream cone…”

“I was a fancy, master. A smart accessory to a fashionable lady. There’s no way my mistress would allow me to eat in the street or anything like that. And then my second owner – well, I was lucky to get fed at all – in spite of the fact that I wasn’t strong enough to pull him, he used to starve me as a punishment quite often, which only made matters worse.” Reb put his arm around Greg to comfort him, and Jake muttered “Poor kid…”. Why the fuck did I feel jealous?

After dinner Jake said he’d like to watch a game on TV so we all went into the den. I felt really left out of it as the three of them were all sports fans, and sat there cheering and commenting and slapping each others’ backs when ‘our’ team did something or other. It was worse than having to sit there with dad, as it was so much noisier. I began to wish I’d thought of insisting that Greg went outside after dinner, as an animal should, but it was too late now as I didn’t want to be seen as a spoilsport. It was kind of appealing though to watch his slim body leaping up and down, and the quite different dynamics of his dick as it wasn’t handing right down as mine did.

When the game was over, though, Jake said he needed to turn in as he needed to be at work the following day quite early, and I agreed, and I said I would drive him again. “So, Greg, it’s outside for you. There’s a small room off the gym that used to be used for storing pool stuff after summer, but it’s empty now and you can use that.”

“Sir – it’ll be cold. And what about something for him to sleep on?” Reb demanded.

I looked at Greg and asked “At your last place were you in a stable? Straw on the floor?” He nodded.

“It sounds to me as if Greg’s owner was a bit of a traditionalist, treating his ponies as if they were real animals. I saw the gardening crew bringing in some big bales of straw yesterday, Reb – turn on the floodlights then go up and see if they’re still there: they’re to protect the tender plants in the winter and they probably haven’t used it yet. If so, bring two or three bales down and spread them about for Greg in that room.”

“It will still be cold! …. Sir. He ought to be indoors.”

I wasn’t going to take criticism from Reb. “If you’re so concerned about Greg, Reb, I suggest you join him. You can keep each other warm. You have it too fucking easy, if you ask me – sharing my bed, hot showers, real food…. Maybe you need to toughen up a bit and see what real slave life is like. There are a lot of slaves who would think a nice room indoors, with fresh straw, would be heaven – some of the guys in field gangs sleep right there, on the job, in their coffles, as their owners don’t want to waste time and money moving them back to base and then out again each day. Anyway, you’re always going on about how marine training made a man of you – it will remind you of that, if you have to sleep rough for a few nights, so I don’t want to hear any complaints.”

Reb turned and stalked out of the door, without even saying goodnight. Greg looked worried, and I gestured that it was OK for him to follow, and he scampered out, as if he was ready and eager for it. I commented to Jake about the difference in the two slaves’ attitudes. “Well think about it, Steve. Greg was taken at sixteen – an impressionable age – then trained by professionals. Then he’s spent almost two years as a slave. We rescued him from prolonged cruel and inhumane treatment, saved him from death… Of course he’s grateful, and happy. Reb’s different – he’s been a tough, free man all his life, enslaved late. And no proper training – just stripped and sold off to you. He’s had it easy here. I know you started training him seriously by taking his cherry, but you haven’t followed through, have you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You treat him as if he was a free man….”

“No I don’t!”

“Steve, you let him wear clothes. You let him drink beer. Give him proper food. You haven’t fucked him, only that once.”

“It’s not easy! He has to be clothed as dad would not allow Mrs Williams to be embarrassed. She cooks him food – on the first day there was sausage, bacon, stuff like that. Dad gives him a beer when they’re watching matches….”

“Listen to you, Steve! Making excuses as usual. You should tell your dad that Reb is not allowed beer. Tell this Mrs Williams that Reb eats chow, and that if she likes cooking that much, she can do it for you, and Reb can watch you eat it as he munches on his chow… And as for fucking him – you know what to do, why aren’t you doing it?” Jake saw me looking kind of hurt as he tore in to me, then his voice softened. “I guess it might be hard to do these things as you’ve got to break your own conditioning – you’ve grown up here always doing what dad said, being looked after by Mrs Williams, never coming on to your buddies and fucking them… But I guess you’ve got time – you seem to have started with the fucking bit!” He smiled at me as he said this, but then got more serious. “I suppose the issue really is whether it’s too late for Reb – having started badly, can you recover with him? Perhaps you should sell him and buy another slave, and start as you mean to continue with that one.”

“No! I couldn’t do that. Dad said he was unsuitable the moment he saw him, and if I sell Reb now dad will know he was right.”

“You’re always worrying what your dad will say, Steve. When he mentions it simply say you found an even better bargain – you could show him Greg and say he’s something you got instead.”

“Dad doesn’t SAY anything – but I’d know he knew I’d made a mistake. And as for Greg – well he’s not the kind of slave I want for college, so that’s no good.”

Jake looked puzzled. “Greg no good for college? A cute body like his, ripe for fucking, and the right age too for a slave for a guy your age.”

“But my plan was to have something special. A big virile guy, like Reb, something none of my frat brothers have. – there’ll be lots of cute young slaves like Greg, and I won’t stand out from the crowd.” Even as I said this I knew I was changing my stance on this a bit. I’d gone from buying Reb as I wanted any slave, any slave at all of my own, rather than a hired one from the livery stable, to now saying Reb was something special. The problem with guys like me who are a bit self-analytic is that we can’t help wondering whether we said this to impress Jake, or whether we’ve started to think of Reb as something to be proud of, or whether it’s because we’ve started to think of Reb as ‘special’ to us.

Jake laughed. “You know, Steve, one of the things I like about you is that you’re so fucked up, in a nice way of course! Always so worried about your dad – and as I understand it you’ve got nothing to worry about as he’s never hit you or anything, has he? And obsessed with making a show….”

“Of course dad hasn’t hit me!” He’d never had to punish me physically. He simply showed his displeasure with a phase, or a look, and I felt terrible. It was my fault, I knew, for being so determined to make dad proud of me. “And I’m not obsessed with making a show! But a guy like me wants to be ‘in’, to follow the trends, to have clothes that are ‘now’, to…”

Jake was laughing openly now. “Oh Steve, you really are amazing. But it’s getting late, and we can’t go on talking all night – I’ve got to work tomorrow, even if you haven’t.”

As we went up the staircase I decided to show Jake in to one of the guest suites – they’re always ready, even though we don’t have guests as dad is so busy. It seemed the right thing to do – all the magazines tell you that it’s important that a guest should feel special. He looked in amazement at the huge bed, and I showed him that there were new silk pyjamas, a huge fleecy cotton robe, and all the toiletries and things he could ever want. He looked rally surprised at it all, then said rather hesitantly “Well good night then….”, and I went to my own room.

The house has a proper security system of course, and I turned on my screen and looked into the gym complex and the room I’d said Greg should use as his ‘stable’ – there was now a lot of straw all over the floor, and Greg was lying there looking happy, staring up at Reb who was standing there looking really uncertain. Finally, Reb lay down in the straw, and I wondered if it was as uncomfortable as I imagined – they always say that ponies bed down well on straw, but when I’ve felt it in the gardens it always seems to be to have lots of rather sharp ends so lying on it would be tough. But perhaps it’s bad to start with, and your body crushes it and it’s OK then. Anyway, Reb had left on his shirt and shorts, but as I watched, Greg shuffled out of his as he lay there, and folded them neatly – then rolled over and threw his arm around Reb.

Reb moved his body to accommodate Greg as anyone might if they’re going to lie next to you, but this wasn’t Greg’s intention! He was tugging at Reb’s shirt, trying to get his hand down Reb’s shorts, and generally looked as if he wanted Reb naked. I cursed that the system was video only – why hadn’t the stupid fuckers who installed it added sound? It could only have cost very little extra, and then I’d have been able to hear what was going on.

Reb tried to stay still, tried to have no part in anything, but the more I watched the more it became clear that Greg wanted Reb’s body! And was determined to get it! He pushed and pulled at Reb, then tried tickling him – that got a response – then threw his arms around him and tried to kiss him – Reb pushed him away – then wrapped his body all around Reb’s, well, as much as he could, as he was nowhere near as big as Reb – and so on. Finally he managed to get his mouth around Reb’s dick – a dick that seemed uninterested in all of this, as Reb was not erect.

Not for long, of course, as Greg’s hard work sucking Reb had the inevitable effect, especially as I saw his hands playing with Reb’s nips as he did so, and he stopped and knelt there for a moment looking so pleased with what he had achieved, and caressing Reb’s dick gently as it stood up there so proudly, glistening with a sheen of spit. Reb was saying something – was he thanking Greg, or telling him to stop? I couldn’t tell.. But Reb looked as surprised as I was when the next instant Greg leapt astride Reb, grabbed hold of his dick to steady and guide it, and began to lower himself so that Reb’s dick went up his ass!

I always enjoy those porn movies where one guy ‘rides’ another like that, and when you have a trained pony like Greg doing it, someone with fantastically muscled legs and thighs so he can thrust himself up and down almost for ever, it’s spectacular. If only I had the sound, I reckon I could have flipped the system to ‘record’ and could have sold the session. Reb had started off being surprised, but as Greg’s wild ride continued, Reb simply couldn’t resist reaching out and running his hands up and down Greg’s thighs as if in passion. A lot of the guys in those scenes just ride, and I’ve always wondered whether their dicks are soft as it’s not really arousing for them, or whether the director thinks that seeing their dicks flying up and down is more erotic. Greg’s dick was hard, though, and he began to stroke it as he worked away, and I watched in fascination as he arched his back, threw his head back, and was clearly totally turned on by what he was doing.

Reb didn’t seem to mind when Greg’s huge slime of cum shot out and coated his belly and chest, and for a guy who professed not to go with other guys Reb then seemed to be playing a more active part as he seemed to know what to do: he wasn’t a passive participant, as he was thrusting his hips upwards now, in synchronisation with Greg’s riding, as if he wanted to get his dick even deeper into Greg. Then, of course, Reb must have shot – his hips were right up off the bed and stayed there, and his hands scrabbled at Greg’s thighs frantically now to stop Greg from moving – evidently Reb had a very sensitive dick once he’d cum!

Greg slowly pulled himself up off Reb’s dick – he really did have beautiful thighs – then threw himself down on to Reb so he was lying along the big guy’s body. And Reb’s arms folded around him to keep him there. I could just tell that they were laughing, as you do after fantastic sex.

I almost jumped a foot in the air as a hand fell on my shoulder. I’d been so intent on watching the screen that I hadn’t heard the door open, and for one terrible moment I thought it was dad who had caught me watching porn. But it was Jake – standing there in the big fluffy robe.

“So you’d rather watch porn than actually do something? Is that more of your fantasy, Steve, trying to get things perfect?”

“It’s not porn! I happened to turn on the security system for a scan around to make sure everything was OK, and that’s Greg and Jake.” As I said this, I replayed the scene from where Greg had first started to throw himself at Jake.

“Proper little firecracker is our Greg, isn’t he?”, Jake mused. “I suppose that having been denied sex for so long he couldn’t wait to get his hands on a beautiful man like Reb.”

“For a guy who says he’s straight, someone who’s fucked as many women as Reb claims to have, he didn’t seem to mind!”, I added, wanting to be part of a conversation.

“A lot of straight guys are like that, in my experience. They don’t mind you sucking their dicks, and a lot of them will let you ride them like that: they close their eyes and imagine it’s some bitch doing it.”

“In your experience….?”

Jake grinned. “You are a keen listener, aren’t you? I’ve had some straight guys, sure. Or so-called straight guys, anyway. But what about you, Steve….?”

“Oh, I….”

“No! I know you haven’t had any guys, straight or gay, except me – and Reb, I suppose. What I meant was what about you, what are you playing at tonight?”

“I don’t know what you mean…”

“We had great sex earlier. You want me to stay the night – I even show you I want to stay, by washing my shirt so that it will be clean for the morning. You get rid of Reb who sleeps in your bedroom. Then as soon as we get up the stairs, you show me into a guest room and leave. So what’s your game, Steve? You’re sending out very mixed signals here – do you want sex, or not? Or are you spinning some elaborate fantasy in your head – you lure a working guy here, get him to sleep in a ‘virgin’ bed, then creep in and ravish him….? I don’t do fantasies, Steve – for me, sex is sex. It’s good, nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to be embarrassed about, something that two guys do because they want to. No elaboration, no shame, no worry.”

Jake had got a bit agitated as he was saying all this, and his robe had fallen open slightly – his dick was thrusting out between the edges, and there was enough of his skin visible to show that he was totally naked underneath. I didn’t know what to say. It sounded stupid to tell him that I’d been properly brought up and was doing what a good host did by showing a guest to the best guest suite, in spite of wanting his body, wanting him.

So I said nothing. I leaned forward and kissed him, reaching down and grabbing his dick. Now it was me pushing Jake back towards the bed, and as he fell backwards on to it I pulled open the robe totally so his body was lying there looking almost like a silhouette against the snowy whiteness of the robe. I threw myself on to him.

I’m not going to tell you about what happened next – well, not in detail. This time I felt a lot more confident and assured, and I could take a bit more time to enjoy all the sensations flooding over me as I kissed and caressed him, played with his dick and balls and nips, and revelled in the sensation as his lips massaged and teased my dick. I loved the feeling of kneeling on his upper arms and holding his hands above his head so he was powerless to resist me, then thrusting my dick deep down his throat until he was choking and my dick was thick with that wonderful slime you get when a guys is almost retching. And then I fucked him – I had him on his back, legs in the air, spread wide, so I could watch his face as I entered him and sank myself so deep that my clipped pubes were right up against his skin.

I washed my dick afterwards and even brought the wash cloth out from the bathroom so I could tenderly clean his ass as he lay there looking utterly exhausted. It was one of the best things I’s ever done for someone else, I thought. Then we lay side by side, and Jake turned and started to kiss me – he wasn’t as exhausted as he had appeared, it seems! His hands were all over me, and soon it was me lying face down, with Jake solicitously pushing pillows under my belly to get my ass into a good position for him.

Afterwards we lay there, face to face, both utterly tiered out, both totally relaxed in that way that you can really only be when you’ve both fucked each other.

“You’re something else, Steve! I keep saying that”, he murmured. “A fucking aggressive top one minute, and the next… Giving yourself to me like that.”

I wanted to ask him what he meant, but his eyes were closed and he was drifting into sleep. And so did I.

I woke up early as I usually do and was wide awake. Jake’s body was spooned into me and my nose was scenting the odours of our bodies as we lay there. I reached out my tongue just for the sheer delight of getting the faint saltiness of Jake’s skin. I knew Jake was supposed to go to work early, but it was so tempting simply to lie there so I could enjoy more of that utterly companionable closeness and warmth. My dick was stirring, as it wanted to explore Jake’s ass crack, and I moved my hand down his body, feeling the erotic warmth of his flat belly against my palm, and then the spikiness of his pubic hair as my fingers riffled through it. It was so tempting, and I decided we should stay like that so that when Jake did wake up we could have long, passionate sex all day – I could compensate him for his lost pay, if it was that important to him.

His phone started to chime – softly at first, but even though I reached out across him to grab it, I couldn’t work out how to stop the alarm, and soon it was shrilling away, and Jake awoke. He turned and kissed me, then as I tried to hold on to him he thrust himself out of bed and stood there for a few moments. I couldn’t help but admire his dick as it jutted out from him, and I knew I had a morning hard-on too. “Off to work…”, he said, half grumpily, half cheerily.

“Stay. We could…”

“Don’t be so fucking stupid”, he called out as he strode off to the bathroom. “I’d lose my job!”

Well there are still some things two guys can do together, aren’t there? He was pissing as I went in, and I stood behind him and put my arms around him, letting my hard dick stab into his butt crack and nuzzling my nose into the nape of his neck. “Fucking hell, Steve! You almost made me lose my aim and get piss all over your floor….”

I licked at his skin on his shoulders and muttered “Doesn’t matter, the slaves clean it every day.”

He finished, shook his dick – it seemed a lot easier to get the last few drops out if you’re ‘skinned – and turned towards me. “It doesn’t matter, Steve! Whether they’re slaves or not, you don’t want people to have to clean up pools of your piss!”

He sounded almost angry, and marched into the shower. I stood there pissing, then went to join him, my fantastic mood of elation absolutely gone. Jake saw me standing there looking kind of dismal, then came over and started to soap me. Above the rushing of the water his voice sounded odd as he said “I’m sorry, Steve. But someone has to tell you these things, you know. Growing up as rich as you are, they don’t seem to occur to you. And another thing – you’ve got to learn to accept criticism: you’re like a spoiled child who’s been told ‘no’ , whenever someone does something that isn’t to your liking.”

If he hadn’t been soaping my balls and pressing his body so close to me that I felt so special, I’d have started arguing with him as it simply wasn’t true. Sure, I want things to be ‘right’ and usually I have much better ideas about how to make that happen, but if someone’s got a reasonable view that’s different, I’ll listen and can make them see sense. So I didn’t usually get a lot of criticism, and Jake’s words were particularly wounding.

He turned off the water and leaned over and kissed me gently. “You’ll be a pretty nice guy to know one day, Steve, if you start thinking a bit more about other people…”

“I’m a pretty nice guy to know now, Jake! You don’t seem to mind….”

He slapped my butt, gently, almost affectionately. “Steve, there you go again. It doesn’t occur to you that perhaps I’m a bit more tolerant than most people? Or maybe I just want your body, and can tolerate ‘Steve’ as long as he keeps in good shape and performs well in bed…?” He was laughing now as he said “So do I get to use a razor, or is there a slave somewhere in a cupboard, waiting to come and shave me?”

We stood side by side at the sink, both shaving. It’s amazing how intimate that is – I mean you don’t normally do it with another guy, do you? Well, not the regular day-to-day shave of your beard? I kept getting new glimpses of Jake’s muscles and they way they worked as he moved his arms and twisted his face, all aided by the huge mirrors on all the walls. I reckon I looked pretty good alongside him, even if I say so myself.

He was really reluctant to wear the A&F briefs, but I’d hidden his old set and pointed out that they were anyway dirty, so he didn’t have much choice unless he wanted to go commando. “Not in my job, Steve. Some of the slaves are really gorgeous, and if I have to ‘skin one back, or bend him over to show his asshole to a client, I don’t want any of those little patches of damp appearing on my uniform!”

“You don’t find slaves sexy, do you?”

“Steve! Be real, will you? They’re men, some of whom have great bodies. And being able to do stuff like that to them when they’re unable to stop me is a real turn on!” He looked at me and added “You were joking, weren’t you? I mean I’ve seen the way your pants tented out when you came into S&D, and the way you look now at Reb… A slave is a man, Steve, a man like you and me, so why shouldn’t they turn me on? Reb seems to do it for you….”

I flushed a bit. “Oh, sure! Of course. I’m not prejudiced, not against niggas, ‘spics, or even slaves. They can be quite like us, really.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Some of my best buddies are niggas, and if we hang out together I wouldn’t want you to embarrass me.”

I drove him to work – he said he had no time for breakfast before we left as we were running close to time, and that anyway he doubted if I knew where all the stuff was kept and that would waste more time. “And I like to grab a coffee and a muffin in the canteen with the other guys before the shift starts, to find out what they’ve been up to.”

“So you’ll be telling them what you’ve been up to as well?”

“They can always tell when I’ve had sex, Steve. Particularly if it’s been great sex. I have this big stupid grin on my face – haven’t you noticed?”

Jake really didn’t want me to drive right into the parking lot at S&D as he still had that stupid idea that he shouldn’t be seen with a rich guy, but I remembered how I’d risked my reputation when he’d kissed me at the traffic lights, so decided he should take his chances. I even kept him there for a couple of minutes as I questioned him closely about what time I should collect him that evening so we could have sex.

I drove home, pondering whether what Jake had said was true – could other people tell if you’d had sex? Obviously if they looked at your asshole they might see it was a bit distended – if you’d been fucked, that is. But what about other signs? I touched my lips tentatively, wondering if they looked more puffy and tender from where Jake had been kissing me. Then I thought about bruising – perhaps I shouldn’t wear short-sleeved polos in case there were marks on my arms from where Jake had gripped me….?

Knowing how Reb was deep in sleep in the morning, I almost went directly to the pool complex to rouse the slaves, but there was a light on in the kitchen, and I was astonished to see Reb and Greg in there – Reb in shirt and shorts, but Greg totally naked. There was that smell of frying bacon in the air, and Greg was wolfing down a big pile of sausages, eggs, pancakes and stuff, and Reb was evidently about to start.

“Who gave you permission to cook all that stuff for yourself?” I snapped at Reb. “And isn’t Greg only to eat chow?”

“Jake….. Master Jake….. Said he wanted Greg to eat real food, to get his strength back…” I blamed myself – dad always said that he’d learned as a lawyer not to ‘stack’ questions, as it made it too easy for the other party to only answer one part.

“That was last night. It’s not good for Greg, you know that – you’re making his life with a new owner ever harder than it might be.”

Greg had stopped eating as I said this, and now sat there with his head dropped submissively. “I’m sorry, master…” he muttered.

“It’s not your problem, Greg! You’re a pony slave, properly trained to obey orders. Obedient. But you can finish that plate full now, as I care about the planet and don’t like waste. But next time Reb offers you food, you are to refuse.” I deliberately didn’t add ‘do you understand’ or anything, as I wanted Reb to see that for a slave like Greg it was absolutely clear that he listened to his owner and automatically did as he was told, without the need for his owner to check.

To emphasise my point I simply had a bowl of cereal with skimmed milk, and I assumed that would make Reb feel uneasy. But it didn’t seem to put him off from shovelling a huge plate full of the same stuff into him. When we’d all finished eating I told them I wanted to inspect Greg to see how his wounds were progressing, and at once he got to his feet, and stood there in a properly subservient inspection position, with his hands behind his neck, his feet spread apart, and his head down.

There was still some scarring on his back, of course, but I was able to stroke his butt for quite a long time in the guise of seeing how any injuries there were progressing – and I could similarly put my hands under his pits and then run them down over his ribs. I put a finger under his chin and pushed gently, to signal to him that he could raise his eyes, then told him to open his mouth so I could put my finger in and probe around his gums – I knew I was erect by now as there’s something about having your fingers in another guy’s mouth, isn’t there? It’s almost as if it is a penis surrogate.

“There’s some fresh bruising on your arms, Greg. And these marks on your shoulders….”

Greg went to say something – he was well trained and I was expecting him to tell me it was from where Reb handled him during their lovemaking the previous night, which would give me an opportunity to ask Reb about fucking another guy without having to reveal that I’d been watching them – after all, who knows what they might get up to tonight. But before Greg could actually say anything, Reb cut in. “I expect it’s from the straw. It’s pretty rough, you know.”

Typical Reb, I thought. Thinking he can deflect me. “Well you were on the straw too, Reb – I think I should take a look to make sure you haven’t been damaged by it as well.”

“Oh no, sir, I’m fine, thank you.”

“Reb, you can’t possibly know that. There are no mirrors in the showers out there, so as a conscientious owner I’m going to take a look. Now, shuck those clothes. Then position yourself for an inspection, as Greg does – you’re lucky to have him here to show you how, as an example.”

‘If looks could kill…’, as they say! Reb clearly knew he hadn’t got a leg to stand on and he had absolutely no choice but to obey my order. He was positively glowering as he pulled his shirt over his head, then dropped the shorts and stood there naked in front of me.

“Is that how Greg stands, Reb?” I said quietly, and still looking furious, Reb moved his feet apart, raised his arms, and lowered his head.

It was fantastic to be able to explore Reb’s body. His warm skin, the feel of his muscled power – knowing that I owned it as I slid my hands all over his back, then focussed on exploring the powerful butt. And when I moved around to the front, I deliberately kept his head down as I put my hands on his sides and used my thumbs to flick over his nips until they were hard. Before I reached for his dick I put a hand on the small of his back, as ‘Modern Slave Owner’ says that although you need no physical power to do this, it’s a powerful psychological inhibitor to the slave moving… And I reckon that they were right, as even so Reb shuffled and moved nervously as I stroked his dick to erection.

When I used my finger to raise his head – again it’s meant to emphasise control to do it this way rather than by verbal command – Reb was really scowling.

“I’d like to know about those marks on your shoulder, Reb – I’m a bit concerned. It must be oddly-shaped straw to leave bruises like that – it’s almost as if someone was biting you… surely Greg didn’t attack you, did he? I’ve heard that some ponies can mimic an animal and bite men?”

Reb looked so confused that I almost felt sorry for him. He didn’t want to admit to ‘love bites’ to me, and equally he didn’t want to allege that Greg might be vicious. I waited for several seconds, then told him he could lower his arms, and then ran my hands lightly down them. “This looks like bruising here, too, Reb. Are you sure Greg didn’t go wild and grab at you?”

I kept silence for another few seconds, then reached out and cupped Reb’s balls in the palm of my hand, rather enjoying the feel of the head of his dick on my pulse, as he was still erect. “And you know, Reb, your balls are a bit shrunk, almost as if you’ve been having sex. Still, I suppose you might have jerked off this morning in the shower – it must be difficult for a guy who’s straight like you to have Greg in such close proximity…”

I waited another few seconds, Reb’s feeling of embarrassment becoming almost palpable. I knew I’d scored a substantial victory over him, and decided I’d made my point. “Anyway, Reb, I don’t want you to exhaust yourself in the gym trying to compete with Greg, so for today you can go and work with the crew getting the vegetable garden ready for winter – introduce yourself as my new slave to the overseer, and tell him that I have said that you are to be treated like the others…. And he shouldn’t hesitate to use the tawse on you if you’re not making sufficient efforts. I’ll watch Greg in the gym.”

Reb was looking really fierce now, and reached down to pick up his shorts. “Oh, and I guess it’s not all that much of a cold day, and the sun will probably come out. It will do you good to get a bit of a tan, so you can work naked – the other slaves are all guys, so they won’t mind.”

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