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A story written by Pete Brown (Part 2 of 30). (Here you can find all the parts of this story.)


I have to confess that I was really nervous as I pushed open the door to the viewing room, as I had no real idea of what I was going to find – I’d been told that the guy was older and an ex-marine and quite a looker, but one guy’s idea of that isn’t necessarily yours, is it? And, to tell you the truth, I was getting worried that I’d wasted a lot of time of the staff at Scabbard & Drass – if I didn’t want to buy this slave, I wasn’t sure I knew how to say ‘no thanks’.

Sure, it’s a shop and they sell things, and I’m a potential customer and it’s my decision, but it’s not like going to Walmart where you walk around and no one really cares, is it? Here I’d taken a lot of time from the salesman and from the guard Jacob, and not buying something would be a real effort and I’d feel bad about it.

The moment I entered the room I began to feel better, though, and I could feel my dick pushing hard against my boxers and chinos as I took in the sight that greeted me. It was the stuff of erotic fantasies – a really toned guy, not overly muscled but with not a trace of fat on his belly as far as I could see at first glance, ‘strung up’ for me to view him! They’d put cuffs around his wrists, and these cuffs were attached to the chains I’d noticed in the ceiling on my first visit – the chains were wide apart so as they had been tightened the guy was spread out in a sort of ‘X’ shape, his ankles being held apart by a bar linking cuffs around them. He was wearing only the thin white shorts I’d seen the other slaves wearing, but these seemed to emphasise his physique as they bulged excitingly at the front, and contrasted with the black hair that covered his chest and ran in a thick trail don across his belly. There was an exciting scent in the air, too – sweat, and I suppose his male pheromones, and I could see the sweat running down his ribs from his pits.

I’d barely stepped in and was still almost overwhelmed by this first glance when he started to scream and shout at me that he was innocent, and that he wasn’t a slave.

“Shut the fuck up!”, Jacob barked, and when the guy continued to shout, Jacob unhitched a cane from his belt and slashed it, viciously I thought, across the slave’s chest and belly. In spite of the thatch of hair I could clearly see bright red marks appear on the slave’s skin, and this excited me even more and at some level I was worried that I might be leaking so much pre-cum that it would seep through my clothes and show! The beating did at least shut the slave up though, and Jacob turned to me and said “As I told you, this is a prime property – a great body and a nice face – he’d have made a fine slave for anyone if he hadn’t acted all the time in the way he was behaving a moment ago.”

“But you shut him up – anyone could do that….”

“Well, sir, think about that. It’s one thing to punish the slave when he’s helpless like this, but suppose he was in your home and began behaving like that – wouldn’t you fear that he’d be even worse if you raised a cane to him, as you’d have every right to? You’ve got to think, sir, that most of the time we rely on ‘domestic’ slaves accepting their slavedom and behaving as a slave should, as it’s too risky to have an ‘untamed’ slave around unless he’s properly chained into a work coffle, or down the mines, or some place like that. All this shouting and so on is clear evidence to most potential buyers that he’ll never accept his status, and would therefore always be a potential threat.”

I nodded, and Jacob continued “So I guess you will be like the others and won’t buy him in spite of his desirable properties…”

“Which are?”

“The body, of course. Just look at it – the picture of manhood. And he’s thirty two years old, and if a guy hasn’t started to put fat on his belly as he leaves his twenties, it’s a fair bet he’ll never do so. And when you take a look around the back you’ll see he’s got what we call a ‘fuckable’ ass – it rides well on the top of his strong thighs. I saw him pissing in his cell earlier, too, and I have to say his dick is pretty spectacular as well – and the Court records, as I may have mentioned, say that he had a reputation as a ‘cocksman’, which is probably part of the reason why he’s here at all – once guys get to know that most women will open up for them, it encourages them…. And that’s not a desirable trait for most owners, either, when the slave has to be around the place all day with wives and daughters at home. And in any case he’ll probably spend time when he should be working trying to seduce female slaves.”

I nodded as I kind of agreed with Jacob. “Anyway, the salesman said that it’s best to have a slave who’s younger and smaller than you, and this guy is neither. I mean I’m big, but he looks bigger…”

Jacob looked at me, eyeing me up and down. “Well that’s generally true, but you’re no weakling, are you? You look able to take care of yourself. And as for the age – well some guys get a thrill at the thought of having an older man obey them…. And he’s only thirty two, still desirable – very desirable some would say, sexually….”

“I’m not a fag…”

“Look, sir, using a slave for sex has got nothing to do with you being a fag or not. You’ll use him to clean your shoes, won’t you? To keep your clothes neat and tidy? To carry your books around when you’re at college?….”

“Sure, of course…”

“Well it’s just the same when it comes to sex. A slave is there to serve, to make life easy for you. And if you’re frustrated and have to jerk off, why not use the slave to do it for you? And what’s wrong with using his throat – if you close your eyes you can’t tell whether it’s a male slave or a bitch doing it. And the same goes for his ass – I guarantee you can’t tell the difference between fucking a male or female ass.”

“Well I don’t think I’ll be doing any of that….”

“Forgive me for saying this, sir, but if you’ve got money to spend on a slave it would be my guess that there’s enough money in your family to get you into one of those exclusive frats?”

“Well, yes. The same one as my dad was pledged to…”

“…and you won’t want to be the ‘odd man out’, will you? All those horny guys in the frat house will all be using their slaves, you can be sure of it. So if I were you I’d reckon it was a good thing if I found the slave to be at least ‘interesting’ sexually…”

“Well, I’m still not sure, I mean it’s a big step to have sex with another guy…”

“You’re right, sir. But you need to remember that this isn’t a ‘guy’ – he’ a slave. And could I also be so bold as to suggest that you probably haven’t had sex with anyone, sir – the way young bitches are these days?”

I felt myself blushing, as I hated to admit I was still a virgin. I could hardly speak, so I simply nodded.

“Well then there’s another reason for using the slave – when you do get to go with a woman, you don’t want to be totally inexperienced, do you? Don’t you want to be able to show her you know how to use your dick?”

I nodded again, and Jacob smiled. “So OK, sir, why don’t you take a closer look then?”

I took a step towards the slave, and he responded by throwing himself forward as if to attack me. The chains stopped him, of course, but even so I was startled by his violent response and by the new stream of invective and abuse that came from him.

Jacob muttered “Sorry, sir – I didn’t think he’d be so fucking stupid….”, and reached out for a small remote control. I watched in fascination as the chains holding the slave’s wrists began to pull them up closer to the ceiling, until the slave was standing on his tiptoes. Jacob looked at the slave and pressed the button again, and now the slave was suspended a couple of centimetres above the floor – I could see that he must be in pain as his spread-eagled feet scrabbled around uselessly trying to touch the floor, his chest and belly muscles were all straining and his arm muscles were visibly in extremely painful tension.

“Now, fucker, are you going to keep a civil tongue in your head?”, Jacob demanded of the slave as he thrust his head right up to the slave’s. “…or shall we keep you dangling here like this? Hard to breathe, isn’t it? Not a lot of air in your lungs? I reckon that if you’re going to be abusive then this is the bet way to display you….”

The slave was gasping and panting, and after a minute or two Jacob touched the control again so that the slave was lowered until his toes just touched the floor. I could see his diaphragm moving as he gulped in air, and the sweat pouring off him.

“Go and inspect him now, sir”, Jacob said reassuringly. “He’ll keep quiet, as I don’t think he’s an idiot – suspending him like that is a bit like those old-style crucifixions, where they ultimately die from suffocation as they can’t breathe. And there’s no danger of him thrusting himself at you again as there’s no slack in the chains now…”

I approached the slave who was glaring angrily at me, and I felt certain that he could see the bulge in my chinos now as I really was aroused. I’d never touched another guy before – well except for when we were doing wrestling at school, or when we were horsing around a bit in the swimming pool – and so I was very hesitant as I reached out and lightly placed a couple of fingers in the middle of his chest. He was unexpectedly warm to my touch, and sort of damp because of all the sweat, and I was aware of his heady scent now that I was so close to him. I let my fingers move downwards, enjoying the sensation of his chest hair and then the shorter, smoother hair on his ‘trail’ as I moved on down. I found I couldn’t resist placing my palm flat on his belly – the sensation of the ridges of muscle, the heat and the sweat were almost overpowering. I stopped at the waistband of his shorts, of course, and took a couple of steps back.

“You need to try his shoulder muscles, sir”, Jacob said. “Feel the power in his neck, then move down and see how the muscles flow into his shoulders and chest….”

Almost mesmerised, I did as he’d suggested. There was something incredibly sensual about having my hands around the slave’s neck, knowing that it would be so easy to strangle him and that there was noting that he could do to stop me. My thumbs caressed his Adam’s apple, and I could feel it fluttering up and down, in tension.

“He’s got good nipples, hasn’t he?”, Jacob called out. “I like to see big dark aureoles like that with the nips quite prominent. So many whiteys have really tiny nips, nothing to look at, or to get hold of…”

I glanced down, and could see what Jacob was getting at. They were a bit like my own, and dad’s, and, thinking about it, I sort of knew what Jacob meant. My buddy Bobby’s nips are really small, and I think it makes him look less of a real man. Hesitantly, and very slowly, and having to make a real effort to stop my hand shaking, I reached out and let the tip of my middle finger touch the slave’s left nip. The rough sensation was so different from the rest of his skin, and as I stroked at it gently in fascination, I could see it visibly swelling and growing under me. Jacob laughed. “That’s a good sign, sir – when a guy’s nips erect like that it evidence of a high sex drive. And, as you can see, they’re so prominent now that if you choose to have him ringed there’s a lot of ‘meat’ there so you can have rally big, heavy rings…”

“Oh I don’t think I’d do that…”

“Always plan ahead, sir… You never know what might become fashionable for slaves and you wouldn’t want to have yours different. Or you might find that a couple of heavy rings would help you control him in bed – sort of give you something to hang on to…”

“Look, I’ve said that I’m not a fag. I won’t be using the slave for sex. Well, perhaps just for sucking me off occasionally… He won’t need controlling in bed!”

Jacob smiled again. “Of course, sir. Just as you say. But might I suggest you look at his back now? He’s pretty spectacular there, too – the classic “V” shape of wide shoulders down to a narrow waist, then an exciting flair of his butt….”

I was glad to move around behind the slave as he hung there, actually, as neither Jacob nor the slave could possibly now see the bulge in my trousers. And as I looked at the slave’s back, I had to agree with Jacob – he looked like a real athlete, even allowing for the distortion of his shoulder muscles from the way he was hanging. I could see that he would almost certainly be a strong swimmer, judging from his long lean thighs, and so would make a great work-out partner for me in the pool. I became interested in buying him.

I moved around the front, and asked Jacob if I could buy him if he was indeed still for sale. “The salesman said he was already sold, to the mines? I’m not sure why I’m looking at all, really.”

“Well, technically, he’s not sold yet. The mines have a ‘strong expression of interest’ in him, and that’s sufficient to get the Court order we were talking about earlier. Then we do it, and after that they actually complete the deal – that way the risk’s all ours if something goes wrong with the operations. So, actually, he’s still available for sale. I’d guess that if you offer a couple of hundred bucks more than the ‘expression of interest’ price Scabbard & Drass would go for the certainty of a sale to you, rather than take the slight risk of something going wrong in surgery.” He stopped, then said, kind of confidentially “…and of course most of us here don’t really like to see all that stuff done to a guy – well, to a slave, I suppose. So even though it’s OK legally it’s hard not to think of him as a guy and how you’d feel if those things were done to you.”

“Well I don’t have an issue with women around the house; when I’m at college and he’s working for me there won’t be time for him to chase female slaves; and I guess my frat brothers will be more than adequate to ‘tame’ him if he doesn’t behave properly. As you say, most of them have a lot of experience with slaves anyway, and we’re all young and fit…

So I reckon that disposes of most of the potential problems, and I would like to buy him.”

Jacob looked shocked. “Sir, you really should complete your inspection first! Buying him now is like buying a pig in a poke, as the old saying goes. You haven’t seen all of him.” As he said this, Jacob walked around behind the slave and tore his shorts off him – literally tore them off, as there was no way they could slide down the slave’s legs with him held in the ‘X’. They were old thin fabric, so I guess it was no big deal, nevertheless the tearing sound was a shock, as was the sight of the slave now he was totally naked.

I’m not sure whether it was the stark white of his skin now revealed which contrasted so dramatically with the appealing chestnut brown of his torso and legs, or his dick and balls, which made the biggest impression on me. Jacob saw me hesitate as I stood there and stared, and said “He obviously always wore shorts as a free man when he was working, but that white will tan just like the rest of him with a few days in the sun – although some owners like the contrast, and allow their slaves to continue to be clothed. He’s well hung, though, isn’t he?”

I really didn’t know what to say. I’m simply not used to thinking about another guy’s tackle, let alone expressing an opinion about it. Well, actually, that’s not the total truth – which of us has not taken a look at our team mates in the showers after a match and made s sneaky comparison with ourselves? But I didn’t make a habit of it, and certainly didn’t talk about it – well, except to join in the general joshing you get sometimes when everyone’s in high spirits after a win. But now I looked I could see that he had a long thick dick – actually, a lot like my own, and like dad’s – hanging down in front of his sac, which was loose and filled with a couple of big balls, one slightly larger than the other as is usual. Like me, the bottom of his sac was just below the tip of his dick. I know that sounds like a very comprehensive description for someone who just took a quick look, and, indeed, it was quite hard to get a clear view as he clearly didn’t trim his pubes and there was an awful lot of his thick, wiry body hair down there. So I suppose it was more of an extrapolation from the bits I could see.

“I’d advise you to inspect his dick and balls thoroughly, sir – skin him back and look at his dick properly, and feel his testicles to check for any signs of cancer… And to make sure he hasn’t had prosthetics fitted.”

Seeing my look of puzzlement Jacob continued “It’s really impossible to tell from the ‘look’, and judging from his behaviour I’d say it was unlikely, but it’s always possible for an owner to have one, or even two, testicles removed to ‘calm’ a slave. Then you slip prosthetic balls back into the sac, to preserve the ‘look’ of the slave. One testicle usually suffices to calm a belligerent slave, and if you take the two you’re then locked into monthly hormone injections to replace some of the male stuff so he doesn’t start to look a bit feminine. You might want to consider that option if you do buy, sir, as he is we know rather rebellious by nature, but you should check before you buy as it might alter your opinion on his desirability. After all, if he is as ‘wild’ as he is now and he’s already lost one ball, you’d have to take the other one and then there would be all the inconvenience- and expense – of the hormones. So why don’t you go and really examine him, feel his balls and squeeze them to make sure they’re real? There’s no danger as he’s now securely chained…” As he said this, he pushed the button on the control box and the slave was lifted so that he was standing on his very tiptoes, and clearly unable to do me any harm.

I approached the slave, now blushing with embarrassment at the prospect of holding another guy’s dick and balls, and also with the thought that I now felt certain I’d leaked so much pre-cum it must be showing. I’ve no idea why the sight of this naked slave chained helplessly in front of me was so arousing, or why feeling his body had already been such a turn-on, but it had.

I reached out tentatively and hesitantly, my hand really was shaking now, and went to cup his balls in my palm to feel them as Jacob had suggested. The slave writhed a bit, to the extent that the taut chains allowed him to, but then quite suddenly, so that I could do nothing to protect myself, he spat a huge gob of spit at me. It hit me squarely in the face, and I could feel its slimy warmth running down my cheek. I was so startled that I reared backwards, quite by reflex, and nearly fell over. “What the fuck….”, I shouted out, and then got an odd taste as some of the stuff running down my cheek trickled into the corner of my mouth. I spat onto the floor in disgust, as nothing like that had ever happened to me before – I’d never got as far as kissing anyone properly, with tongues, as you might say, so I’d never had anyone else’s spit in there.

Jacob at once leapt towards the slave, brandishing his cane. “No!”, I shouted, and reached out and stayed Jacob’s arm. “I can see the slave needs a good thrashing, but it’s me that’s going to do it.”

Jacob handed me the cane without any hesitation, and I went around the back of the slave and began to strike his butt. I was in such a rage that I wasn’t all that conscious of what I was doing as I slashed away at the white flesh, except that I did start to see the angry red lines start to appear across the milky white of his skin. He began to howl after a few strokes, too, and somehow this only spurred me on. I don’t really know how many strokes I gave him, except that it was a lot, and I think I might still be beating him now if Jacob hadn’t ultimately come up and gently restrained my arm and got me to stop.

The slave was kind of sobbing, in anguish, and Jacob smiled at me. “You’ve stopped his foul mouth, at least. So have you done this before?”

“You mean cane a slave? No, we don’t own any…”

“Well you look pretty expert for a novice, I must say. Look how you’ve made the strokes almost parallel…. And going on down the thighs, too – normally only pretty experienced users of the discipline cane do that, as it not only avoids permanent damage by doing too many strokes in the same places on the butt, but it’s actually a whole lot more painful for the slave as there isn’t the same cushion of flesh there to act as a buffer. Are you OK, though?”

“Yes, sure….. Now I’ve calmed down.”

“Sometimes it’s good to vent your anger on a slave. Bottling that sort of thing up can be bad for your health, and it’s good to let the ‘safety valve’ blow. Now, are you going to complete your inspection?”

I nodded, and moved purposefully around to the front of the slave again. His head was kind of hanging down, as if he was trying to conceal something from me. “Look at me, boy!”, I snapped, and then, when he was slow to react, I struck him across the belly with the cane. This caused him to gasp with the pain, and I said, my voice icily calm now “I said to look at me! I can keep striking you for as long as it takes…. If I decide to buy you I’ll expect complete obedience, and you may as well start to learn that now.”

Fortunately the slave started to raise his head so he could look at me, as I’m not sure how long I could have continued to beat him once my anger had dissipated. I saw then why he had been trying to hide his face – he had tears running down his cheeks, and I guess no man likes another to see that he can’t control his reactions like that.

“Now, boy, I’m going to feel your balls, and your dick. Any action like you took a few moments ago and I’ll cane you again – but on your balls this time. Do you understand?”

The slave nodded. I hit him hard across his belly again. “The proper response from a slave is ‘yes, sir’, I added. I’m surprised you don’t know that, as it’s the same as you’d have been used to when an officer gave you orders. So shall we try again…?”

“Yes, sir”, he muttered, rather hesitantly. Was it just like that because he was hurting, or was he trying to ‘mark some territory’ of his own, keeping some part of himself back, by not replying quickly and smartly? I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, and let it go.

I was so much more confident now as I reached out and cupped his balls in my hand. I’d never touched another guy’s balls before, obviously, and I was really surprised at how warm and kind of ‘silky’ they felt, in spite of the forest of hair on them – I decided there and then that he’d need to be shaved after I’d bought him (and then kind of stopped internally, as I realised what I’d thought – I’d gone from thinking about IF I bought him, to thinking about what I’d have done to him after I bought him!). I used my thumb to separate out his balls as they lay there, then kind of stroked it around each one, feeling for lumps – we’d been taught how to do this for ourselves at school as cancer of the testicles is most prevalent in younger guys. So I knew what I was looking for, but there didn’t seem to be any problem in the slave. I then remembered what Jacob had said about prosthetic implants and the need to make sure a guy’s balls were genuine, and for a moment I was at a loss to decide what to do. But it’s obvious, isn’t it, when you think about it? You just squeeze the ball hard, and, as I discovered with the slave, if it’s genuine he can’t help crying out as all guys are so sensitive there!

I’ve told you he had a nice long fat dick, but it was a bit spoiled by the fact that his foreskin was a trifle too long – I’d noticed this on some of the guys in the locker room (well we all glance casually at our team mates, don’t we?) and I find it kind of ugly. But as I took his dick in my hand and stroked at it with my thumb, he began to stiffen and it didn’t look quite so bad. I’m used to feeling my own dick of course, but I was amazed at how different the slave’s felt – no, it wasn’t in any special and I now know that all other guys’ dicks feel different from your own, but this was a ‘first’ for me – that warm, velvety softness wrapped around what feels like a shaft of steel. I couldn’t resist it – I stroked at the ‘skin covering the head, and it kind of popped back, as it does, so that I could see the darker head, shining under the lights from the coating of pre-cum all over it. There was even a tiny ball of shiny pre-cum hanging on his piss slit. I was really glad to see that the head was about the same diameter as the shaft – I do so hate it when a guy with a really nice-looking dick reveals a ludicrously small head perched at the end of it.

“Do you like a man feeling your dick, slave?” I asked him, staring him straight in the eye. “Did you do this a lot with your buddies in the service? You got aroused pretty quickly, and all this stuff you’re leaking….”

“They haven’t let me touch it for a few days, so what do you expect?”, he snapped, and then added, as he saw me raise the cane “…Sir?”

I nodded, and walked around behind him. I ran my hands lightly over his butt cheeks now, feeling the heat radiating from the angry red stripes left by the cane. He shuffled his body as best he could, obviously in a great deal of discomfort, and he moaned softly. I don’t know what came over me as I’m sure that if anyone had asked me in advance if I’d do such a thing I’d have been angry that they thought of me as some sort of pervert, but now the deep cleft between his cheeks looked somehow inviting, and I imagined that they definitely needed to be “explored” if I was to examine the slave properly. I rested one finger in the small of his back just at the top of his crack, and then started to push it downwards.

My erection was really painful now – there was something so utterly sensual about this. The slave had been sweating profusely as you’d expect from the treatment he’d received, so as I stood close to him I was not only assaulted by the tantalising male smell of him, but my finger slid along, lubricated by it. His crack was warm, offered an exciting resistance as the slave attempted to clench his buttocks together to stop me, and my finger nail kept catching on the thick wiry hair that lined it. I pushed on and on, and then the texture changed abruptly – something sort of crinkley and no longer smooth. The slave gasped, and I knew I was touching his most secret place, his actual asshole.

Now I’m a lot more experienced I would of course have continued, and tested the hole’s resistance to my finger as a measure of how experienced the slave was sexually – yes, I know it’s a crude test and not all that accurate, but I reckon you can generally at least tell if the guy is a virgin or not. But you’ve got to remember this was my first time, and it was pretty damned daring of me to have my finger down his ass crack and touching his hole at all, and I stopped and pulled my finger out.

“I thought you said you didn’t know a lot about slaves”, Jacob told me, smiling at me as he handed me a wet wipe and a towel for my hand. “You looked pretty experienced to me, ‘skinning him back, then feeling his ass….”

“I read a lot. All the books tell you that’s what you do.”

“Do you want to do anything else?”

“Well I guess I probably want to make an offer on him…. But I am worried now about his temper. I’d like to try something first…. Can you let him down so that he’s more comfortable, as I want his full attention?”

Jacob nodded and the chains relaxed so that the slave’s hands were at about the height of his nips. He stood there, looking at me, and I stood there looking at him. I went to the folder of papers that Jacob had, and pulled out the Court certificate. I then went and held it up in front of the slave. “Read this”, I commanded, and stood there and watched as the slave’s eyes moved as he scanned down the page.

“Need any help? I assume you know what ‘gelding’ is? But are you aware of the process of ‘stubbing’? Just in case, let me remind you: this document is an order from the Court authorising Scabbard & Drass to cut your balls off, AND your dick. You’re going to be sold down the mines, and you’ll spend the rest of your days crawling along on your belly in the narrow seams – dragging a dick and balls along the ground would distract you from your work, so this is the solution your new owners will adopt: remove them.”

I stopped for a few moments to let him take it in, then went on “Jacob here tells me that as soon as the veterinarian comes back from his lunch they’re going to geld and stubb you, then later today you’ll be shipped off to the mines. So I’m your sort of last chance – I could buy you, and I want a real man, so I wouldn’t want that stuff done to you. But here’s the problem you see, slave – I want a real man, but I also want a slave, a slave who will be obedient, utterly obedient…. And judging from what I’ve seen so far, that’s just not you, is it?”

I paused again, more for dramatic effect, I think, then went on “Of course I suppose it’s always possible that in the next half an hour or so there will be some other prospective purchaser who wants to take a look at you, and then I suppose you might behave properly, and he might buy you. But, there again, he might not. So I reckon I’m your best shot, really – but I’m not sure I could trust you to behave, and obey: obey totally and completely, whatever you were ordered to do.”

I looked at him, and waited. The seconds stretched out. I could see from the tension lines flickering across his face that he was in inner turmoil, trying to make a decision. Was he going to lose his manhood, or was he going to submit and give up his freedom? I now know, of course, that the bigger the decision, the longer it takes, and that it’s essential not to say or do anything whilst it’s being made or you let the other party ‘off the hook’. So I stood there, standing very still, and trying to radiate a calmness and self-assurance I certainly did not feel.

“Please, sir… I can obey….” I feel certain I saw the tension in Jacob’s body relax, as did my own, as he clearly had much the same thoughts about the salve as I had.

“Tell me you want me to buy you, slave. No, beg me to buy you. And how can I be sure you will obey?”

“Please, sir, please buy me. I can obey you, sir. I was a marine, until they wrongly enslaved me….”

“Stop!”, I commanded. “That shows your wrong attitude! To say you were ‘wrongly enslaved’ means that you don’t properly accept that you are now indeed a slave.” As I said this I deliberately turned, and made a step towards the door.

“No, sir, please… Please don’t go. Please buy me, sir. I obey orders – it’s what I am trained to do, sir. I’ll be loyal to you, sir, as I was a loyal marine….”

I nodded, then turned to Jacob. “Can you let him right down, and remove the chains totally, please?”

“I’m not sure that’s wise, sir…. He still looks potentially violent to me….”

“I’ll take the risk. But I need to know, to be sure, and I can only think of one way of finding out. Look, you told me you don’t want to see a guy like this stubbed – so help me out on this.” Even as I spoke I heard my own ambivalence to the slave – I was still thinking of him, and even speaking of him, as a man.

Jacob shrugged, the chains were lowered, and I went and sat in the client’s chair as Jacob fiddled around with the shackles on the slave’s wrists and ankles. I watched with interest, until finally the slave stood there in front of me, absolutely stark naked. He held his hands loosely in front of himself, as if trying to give himself some tiny measure of protection from my eyes.

“OK, slave. I need to see you in action Run around the room – fast. I want to see your muscles in action. I want a real sweat raised.”

“How many times, sir?”

“Until I order you to stop! Now, get going!”

It’s actually rather erotic to have a big guy running around a quite small room in front of you – you get a superb view of all his muscles in action, much more so than if you’re sitting at the track and watching athletes run around. I kept him going until the sweat was flying off him – literally – I could see small droplets spraying into the air. And of course his dick and balls were flying up and down in time with his paces, and that’s certainly not something you see on the track!

Finally, I told him to stop, and he stood in front of me again, his chest heaving up and down as he sucked air into his lungs.

“Excellent!”, I told him. “You’re in good shape.”

There was a flicker of a smile on his face. “The marines train you hard, sir.”

“Right. Now kneel in front of me.” Not only did I need him in that position, but I think there’s something that tells another guy he’s really subservient to you if he has to kneel as you sit comfortably in a chair.

He looked a bit puzzled, but dropped down. “No – spread your knees wide, and press our feet together. Keep your back straight, and let your butt rest on your heels.”

He shuffled around, and as soon as he stopped moving I continued “Good. Whenever I tell you to kneel, that’s how I want to see you do it so that your body is open to me” Again, I was subtly telling him that this was something he was going to have to get used to. His body relaxed slightly, but tensed dramatically as I then said in a voice which I hoped sounded a lot calmer than I actually was “Now jerk yourself off.”

He looked at me dumbly. “Slave, listen, and listen well. If you want me to buy you I need to know that you’ll be obedient. And I reckon one way of making sure a slave is obedient is to get him to do something that no free man would do for another – to masturbate in front of him. Now, do it, if you are indeed the kind of obedient guy you claim to be.”

I have to confess I was worried. I had a lot of emotional investment in this potential purchase by now and I kind of found myself liking the guy. I really didn’t want to have to walk out, but, on the other hand, if he wasn’t going to be truly obedient, there was simply no way I could risk buying him. So I watched for what seemed like forever, although it was probably no more than four or five seconds, until he reached down and with is left hand began to stroke his dick.

It soon became clear that he really was, as he’d said, ‘primed’ to shoot as he’d been deprived for a few days, and it didn’t take long until his breathing became ragged and he made little moans of pleasure, and I knew he was on the edge. “Be sure to catch it all in your hand”, I ordered – only just in time, as he gave a cry, and a veritable torrent of cum shot out of his dick. He continued to kneel there then, his breathing slowing and, almost as if he had forgotten that Jacob and I were watching, he “milked” the last bits of cum out of his dick and allowed his ‘skin to slide back. It was kind of funny, really – it was as if he then suddenly realised what he’d just done and where he was, as he began to blush and simply stare at his palm full of milky fluid.

“Good.” I said to the slave, and reached forward and ruffled my fingers through his hair slightly, much as you would on a dog that had just pleased you. I thought this would really help reinforce my dominance over him. Then I stood up and said to Jacob – who, I noticed, was standing there gaping in astonishment – “I’ll go back to reception and find the salesman, then, as I am going to buy the slave.”

“A-fucking-mazing”, he told me. “I’ve never seen a buyer do that before. Are you sure this is the first slave you’ve ever bought?”

“Yes, absolutely certain. I told you, I read a lot. And the literature is full of accounts of how owners test slaves.” I smiled as I walked towards the door, but I think I let myself down a bit as I did one of those reflex things – I pulled my trousers and shirt away from my body as they were stuck there with my own sweat. It had clearly been a really challenging time for me, too.

Illustration by Theo Blaze
Illustration by Theo Blaze

1 COMMENT

  1. This is new story about “Steve.” I like the way that he is the dominant character here. I hope that he will not be enslaved. Please! More power… can’t wait for the next part of the story.

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