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A story written by Pete Brown (Part 26 of 30). (Here you can find all the parts of this story.)


The two of them were so close to being drunk that they though it would be hilarious to have me strip. I protested and Karl then accused me of wanting to back out of the bet – and I certainly didn’t want to lose the opportunity of taking his money off him, so I did. Karl then picked up my boxers and went to pull them over my head. “No way….”, I protested, and he then made some remark to Reb about the fact that I must not be very clean as I was worried about my boxers, so I agreed.

Once my boxers were over my face and I smelt that delicious male scent that there always is when you’ve been wearing underwear all day, I felt myself start to stiffen and did everything I could to try to stop it. Karl then decided that I could still see through the thin cotton, so my sweatshirt was pulled down on top of that, pressing my boxers tightly over my nose and intensifying the sensation.

I then heard a lot of giggling and shuffling around as I guessed Karl and Reb were moving from side to side so I’d have no clue as to which was which. And then the unmistakable sounds of them undressing as they whispered to each other that I certainly wasn’t going to get a clue from feeling Karl’s jeans and Reb’s shorts. When finally they agreed they were ready, and Karl had again reminded me that there was to be no groping or touching with my hands, I knelt down and pulled the sweat and boxers up – pointing out that I still couldn’t see, but that it was suffocating me and I needed to be able to breathe. They accepted this, so I then shuffled close to where I knew they were standing, and pressed forward and began to smell their crotches.

Reb was easy to identify – and as luck would have it he was the first one I tried – I was used to his strong masculine scent from the sweat that poured off him. And to confirm it I reached out with my tongue and gently licked at his dick – I could feel the flange around his head and as I then gently licked at it I could feel him start to stiffen, especially as I concentrated on the little ‘pleasure triangle’ that I’d allowed him to be left with when he was ‘skinned. I knew from seeing him come out of the shower that Karl was uncut, and so I could have stopped it there and then, but I decided to start the next step in Karl’s education.

Moving sideways, I then buried my nose into Karl’s pubes – his hair was a lot longer and scratchier than Reb’s as he’d never been trimmed, and when I licked at his dick I could feel the hair all around the bottom of the shaft. I concentrated on it, though, and soon I was rewarded by the feeling of Karl’s dick beginning to stir… And after that it didn’t take all that much persistence to get him fully erect. There was the extra confirmation that I was right then as my lips felt the moist sweet taste of his dick head that was covered in pre-cum and now revealed as he’d ‘skinned back.

“This is Karl”, I cried, and pulled the stuff off my eyes and stood up. There in front of me were Karl and Reb both naked and both erect. I still had a T on, and now pulled my boxers on too so as I felt that that gave me a position of power over them – most naked guys are instinctively subservient to a clothed one, I guess.

“That’s not fair….”, Karl started, blushing with embarrassment. He began to grope around o n the floor for his clothes, whist at the same time attempting to hide his erection with one hand, an effort doomed to failure.

“Not fair? You ordered me to strip. You blindfolded me. You said no touching or groping with my hands…. You set the conditions, Karl, so how is it not fair? So pay up – or….” I was about to say ‘pay a forfeit’, which would have been interesting as I could see how far Karl would go, but I remembered the money. “….or I’ll ask Reb what the marines do to guys who Welsh on bets. I don’t suppose you want to be known as the guy who doesn’t pay up… I reckon Jake would be very disappointed in his big brother….”

Karl had pulled his jeans on now and stood there looking indecisive. Reb half turned to him and said quietly “Steve’s right… You did set the conditions, and although he won unconventionally, he did win, following the rules… I guess you’d better pay up.”

“But it’s all I’ve got… Until Steve pays me…. I’ll be penniless….”

“Pay day will be at the end of the month, and not before. And what do you need money for any way? You can keep working alongside Reb, and he doesn’t have any as he’s a slave.”

I could see Karl’s muscles tensing and his fists clenching as if he was preparing for a fight. Reb saw this too as he put his hands on Karl’s shoulders and said “Come on, buddy – cool it! It’s not that bad – we can do without a beer for the next couple of weeks. And it means I won’t have to feel guilty for always being bought for, and to not be able to pay you back.”

And that seemed to be that. The two of them started to watch TV, and by the time Jake got back from work at Ray and Stu’s it was as if nothing had happened – except that I had Jake’s money, and was feeling pretty pleased with myself as I’d also got Jake to be erect in front of Reb and me – he’d never been concerned about coming out of the shower, as I’ve told you, but there’s a world of difference between that and actually having your erect dick on display, isn’t there?

The following day I was sorely tempted to go and buy myself a second-hand phone, but I had more pressing needs and instead went to the slave supply stores. Slave clothing isn’t all that expensive, of course – well, not the sort you’d buy for a gardener or labourer: ‘costumes’ that you’d put your household servants in can be a lot more expensive, and a full ‘livery’ with piped gold seams and stuff like that can of course cost a fortune. All I needed were some simple slave shorts – I chose some in cheap synthetic shiny grey material, with low waistbands and cut high on the thigh – and tops, where again I chose the same shiny synthetic grey material. I was surprised at how little they weighed, but I still had change form Jake’s money, and they’d suit my purposes well.

As I wanted the evening to go well, I also went to the grocers and prided myself on being a real clever shopper now as I scoured the shelves for bargains and BOGOFFs, and even got some quite exotic fruit that was on its last day to be sold.

All four of us enjoyed the thick stew I’d cooked and Reb and Karl filled themselves up by having two baked potatoes each. Then they wanted to go out to a bar, and I pointed out that they had no money. There was no big match on TV, and Jake was going to be home as he wasn’t working that night, and I thought it would be great to relax with a movie. We couldn’t agree on what to watch, of course, and I didn’t want to be sickened by the sight of guys fucking vilely pneumatically-breasted women which would have been the choice of Karl and Reb (not that Reb had a vote in it, as I reminded him). So finally Jake suggested we play cards, and Karl said that this was stupid as he and Reb had no cash, and playing poker without money was utterly pointless.

“Well we could play strip poker”, I suggested. “We can all start off the same – Ts, underwear, shorts or jeans, socks…”

“What a fucking fag thing to suggest…”, Karl snapped.

“Didn’t you ever do it in the barracks?” Jake responded, seemingly annoyed at how Karl was still treating me. “Most of the guys I was with did when we’d run out of cash, or cigarettes or chocolate bars or anything else to bet with. We didn’t think it was ‘fag’ – we thought it was fun.”

There was some slight delay then as we all either took off stuff or put it on so we all started fair and square, and to get the thing going properly we also gave everyone ten slave chow biscuits to play with before we got to items of clothing.

It soon became clear that Karl and Reb both played what I’d call a ‘rough’ game – no finesse at all. Lots of betting when they had good hands and not much when the cards weren’t with them, with some crazy (to my mind) decisions about holding and folding. Initially that worked OK and Karl looked particularly pleased when he won my T off me as I’d exhausted my slave chow markers, but in the long run it’s not a good strategy of course and my more cautious, more ‘scientific’ play was bound to win in the longer term. Soon both Karl and Reb were down to their underwear, Jake was sitting in his boxers and T, and I was fully clothed (except that I couldn’t be bothered to pull my sock back on and I wriggled my bare toes in excited anticipation).

I felt almost sorry for Reb as he lost his underwear and sat there naked – he wasn’t particularly bothered by that but he said he was out of the game. Karl then bet his shorts, then wanted to raise – except, as I pointed out, he’d got nothing left to bet with. “We moved on to forfeits in the barracks”, Reb remarked. “And can we agree to that too, Steve, as I don’t want to break up the game?”

“No way am I going to do a forfeit!” was Karl’s response, so I said “Well it’s game over then, except I guess you’ve got a good hand, as you were willing to bet your underwear. Such a pity….”

“OK. I raise you, and bet a forfeit” he mumbled.

 

Well you can guess what happened! Soon he and Reb were both naked, and both owed forfeits. I was by far and away the winner, but Jake still had a reasonable number of ‘chips’, and I was glad that it was he, and not me, who said we needed to call it a night as he had an early shift the next day.

“So forfeit time, guys! But before that, and as you’re both naked now, you may as well try on your uniforms for tomorrow’s work.”

“I don’t need a fucking uniform…”, was Karl’s immediate response “Jeans are good enough for me.”

“…except that you just gambled them away, Karl. And so unless you want to work bare-assed, and you could, as we could pretend you’re a slave and slave nudity out in the suburbs is OK, then perhaps you’d better try it on. I think it would be good for our image if you and Reb wore identical stuff, to show you were part of the same team.”

“No fucking way. I didn’t gamble my jeans away…”

“I think you did! You’re naked now… And you bet them, and I won them. But let’s not argue the point – either you wear the uniform or I don’t employ you.”

“Right! I’ll take my money and quit! I’ll hitch to California or somewhere and find a job there…”

“Karl, please…”, Jake cut in. “Do you think you’re the first guy who’s ever had that idea? Do you think there are any more jobs on the West Coast? They’re particularly keen on white slaves there it says in the stuff we get to read at S & D: there are so many niggas and ‘spics that a good white slave, as you’d soon be, fetches high prices. So the cops are really hot on picking up the destitute and claiming a ‘finder’s fee’…”

“In any case, you don’t have any money. You won’t have completed a full month of work for me, and the ‘administrative expense’ of taking on a new employee sadly wipes out any payment for the first few days work.”, I added.

I thought Karl was going to hit me and he raged for a bit about me owing him, but Reb calmed him down, and the two of them stood there, side by side, breathing hard.

“I take it you’d like to try on the uniforms then….” I opened the paper sac containing the stuff I’d bought and tossed the clothes to them.

Reb looked stunning in his – the material hung loosely and this seemed to emphasise his muscular thighs, and yet it ‘snagged’ sufficiently to allow us to see the definition of each of his butt cheeks. Karl looked really unhappy, though – he kept trying to pull the shorts up as they were so low-cut that the top of his pubes were sticking out above the waistband, and at the same time he was tugging at the bottom of the legs as he obviously wasn’t used to having so much thigh exposed – like most contemporary guys he must have worn long swimming shorts and not Speedos as there was a big rash of white skin from just above his knees to the bottom of the shorts. “There are fucking indecent!”, he told me. “I think my dick is going to fall out….”

“No it won’t – there’s not room for it to slide between the hem of your shorts and your thigh. Ask Reb – he’s work in that sort of stuff before”. Reb nodded in agreement with me.

“And this fucking top only just reaches the waistband – all my pubes are showing…”

“That’s to provide for air circulation, to help keep you cool. And if you’re worried about your pubes showing, Reb will help you clip them tonight, as his are.”

“..and this thin material is no fucking good! It’s cold out there…”

“…so you’ll need to work hard, really hard, all day, without stopping, so you keep warm. Ask Reb – he’s spent a lot of time with Greg who was always naked, even in the depths of winter, as running as a pony generates a lot of heat.”

Karl glowered at me. “And in any case this ‘uniform’ idea is crap – you’ve only given us one set each…”

“Because, Karl. When you get back here tomorrow night you and Reb will wash them in the bathroom sink, and being that light fabric they’ll be dry and ready to wear the next day.”

“Now, any other questions? You can see Reb is OK with it, so what’s your problem? Do you think you’re better than Reb?”

Any sensible guy would have pointed out that he was a free man and Reb was a slave, of course, but either Karl did not have the wit to do this, or he was so buddied-up to Reb that he thought it was rude or something. So he simply glared at me.

“Right, so on with the main business of the evening. The forfeits…”

Karl looked startled. “You didn’t think I’d forgotten, did you, Karl?…. So first, let’s have you and Reb where we were at the end of the game – naked. You don’t think much of the uniform, so it shouldn’t be difficult to get out of it!”

Karl looked sort of defeated, and he and Reb stripped for Jake and me. The more you looked at them, the more the two men were alike, except for the obvious differences like Karl’s ‘skin, the white band around his loins where he had not been exposed to the sun, and Reb’s prominent slave brand. “What do you reckon, Jake? What sort of forfeit? Now’s payback time – all the stuff I’ve read says older brothers can be pretty rough on a kid brother.”

Jake just shrugged. “Don’t believe everything you read, Steve. I’ve told you that. But you seem to be running the show, you suggest something.”

“OK….” I turned to Karl and Reb and said “I think Jake and me would like to see two studs like you sucking each other’s dicks!” Jake went to protest immediately but I kept on talking “But on the other hand that would be tough on Reb as you’ve got all that hair down there, at least for the time being, Karl, and as anyone can tell you it’s not nice to get that stuck between your teeth. So we’d settle for the two of you jerking each other off, provided you also shave your balls and trim your pubes….”

“No way am I going to jerk off in front of my brother…”, Karl shouted.

“You did when I was a kid”. There was hidden anger in Jake’s voice. “I remember you coming home drunk, then kneeling on my bed and shooting your load all over the sheets – it was me who felt bad when mom changed the beds and would look at the cum stains. She never said anything, of course, but I hated the idea that she thought I was so out of control I couldn’t even catch my cum and prevent all that mess!”

“….and you do need a trim”, Reb added quietly. “You’ve got to wear those shorts tomorrow…”

The two studs went off to the bathroom then, and Jake sat there looking at me. “What the fuck’s going on in your brain, Steve?”

“Payback, I guess. Ever since your brother came here he’s been insulting me, and making out you’re some sort of freak and he’s only tolerating me because you’re his brother. So it’s time he lost some of his arrogance. And, who knows, he might actually get to enjoy it – whether it’s ‘nature’ or ‘nurture’ that affects this stuff, you should be a lot more alike. So how is it that you’re such a great guy in bed, and he’s such an asshole about guys together?”

“Well I’m not sure I like you humiliating him like this, Steve…”

“Jake, what’s humiliating about two studs like him and Reb jerking each other off? They’re OK about doing it to themselves – and you all seem to think that’s pretty normal and pretty OK in the marines. So this is only the next step…. A tiny step, really…. And, who knows, he might actually find he enjoys it! It might even be liberating….”

Our conversation was cut short as Karl and Reb came back into the room. Karl actually did look a whole lot better without the unruly forest of hair that had been partially concealing his dick – now it hung there so much more prominently, and you could get a proper view of his balls (which had been shaved), too. There was added emphasis to the hard flat plane of his belly, and I wondered if Reb had also made him shave his taint and ass crack, but decided not to push it too far by asking. Before there could be any more argument or discussion I took the initiative. “OK, you two. Now Jake and I want you kneeling in front of us – face each other, put one hand on the other’s shoulder, and start jerking yourself off with the other. Then, when you’re both good and hard, we want to see a bit of guy on guy action, so jerk the other guy off to completion…. And we don’t wan any mess on Jake’s rug, so be sure to be careful to catch the cum.”

I thought Karl might protest, but Reb was obediently getting to his knees, and slowly and reluctantly, Karl followed. It was kind of touching, actually, to see the two big men kneeling there – with a hand on their partner’s shoulder they couldn’t help but stare into each other’s face, and there was a complete display of emotion, from embarrassment to pleasure to amusement that ran across them as they started to jack their own dicks. “OK, guys, now for the real act… You’re both hard, so do each other…”, I called after a couple of minutes.

Again, there was a slightly rebellious look from Karl, but Reb smiled at him kind of reassuringly. They knelt there, their dicks both twitching up and down slightly, then Reb reached down and grabbed Karl’s dick, and began to slide his ‘skin sensuously up and down the shaft. He nodded sort of encouragingly at Karl, and almost like a man in a trance who has no option but to obey, Karl reached out and began to caress Reb’s member.

They must both have been very close to the edge, as almost as soon as they’d started both guys’ dicks were shining with pre-cum. And I needed to shout at them shortly after that to be sure to catch the cum to avoid staining the rug!

When both were finished and they knelt there looking at each other still, but with their chests rising and falling as their breathing recovered, both of them actually seemed to be smiling at each other. Then Karl looked at the palm of his hand where Reb’s cum was glistening, and in turn Reb sort of showed Karl his in Reb’s palm. Slowly, Reb reached out and rubbed Karl’s cum down Karl’s chest, massaging it into his hair and sliding it playfully over his nipples. It was almost unbelievable – but it was as if Karl had no idea what to do except to mimic Reb’s actions, and rub Reb’s cum into Reb’s hairy chest too (except that he didn’t touch Reb’s nips, which I suppose must have been a disappointment for Reb).

It seemed almost a shame to break the spell, but I needed to keep control of the situation and so before either of the guys could do or say anything else I pulled Jake to his feet from the couch and said “We’re off to bed! You two need to be up early, remember… You’ve got work tomorrow”, and we left them kneeling there.

Jake and I faced each other in bed, and I was gently stroking our dicks as I’d got them side by side. I loved the feel of the tip of my dick being excited by Jake’s pubes, and the sheer delight of the warmth of his shaft all along the length of mine. “That was pretty intense!”, I whispered. “Better than watching a porn movie. It’s made me really horny…. Shall we fuck?”

“I’m too tired. It’s OK for you, but I’ve been working all day…”

“You never want to fuck, Jake! Is there something wrong?”

Jake lay there silent, so I put my arm around him to pull us closer, whilst I continued to stroke our dicks. “Come on, Jake, what’s wrong? You’re ready for it – you’re rock hard…”

“I can’t, Steve. Not whilst my brother’s here. I can’t fuck with him in the next room – he’ll hear us…”

“Even if I’m gentle, and slide into you slowly, then don’t really fuck you hard, so you don’t scream and trash around as you usually do? Come on, let’s try….”

“NO, Steve. I can’t.”

Look, there are times when you need to insist, and times when it’s best to acquiesce and plan an alternative strategy for the future, and I judged this latter case to be the best course of action now, even though I was really horny and wanted to feel Jake’s ass around my dick.

So I hugged him, kissed him gently – I didn’t force my tongue down his throat, but teased and played with his lips and tongue – and continued to stroke and tease our dicks until we shot almost simultaneously, and could lie there in that intimate closeness as the delicious smell of our cum and sweat wafted out from under the sheets.

It was incredibly sexy somehow the following morning – Karl and Reb were sitting there hunched over their big bowls of cereal in their skimpy work clothes, and I could admire the interplay of their muscles and they spooned the stuff down. Karl was not talking to me, and at least that had the advantage that I didn’t have to listen to his whines and complaints about not having any money and being dressed like a slave. I wad annoyed, though, as in some way Karl had managed to remove his chain ‘collar’ – Reb confessed to having found the key lying on the table and letting Karl undo the padlock, and now I insisted that Karl put the chain back on again so that he and Reb both looked like slaves, and I locked the lock, and this time pocketed the key so that now the chain would stay on until I removed it.

They went off quite soon after that, and I reminded them that they’d need to jog to keep warm on their way out to Mrs Farrar’s place, and that they would need to keep working hard all day. “But tonight, if you’ve been good, I’ll find the money for beer!”, I promised, as it’s good management practice to mix the carrot and the stick, isn’t it?

I did need to get some cash, though, and so later that day I decided to call on Mrs Farrar and ‘collect’ for the work done to date. It was frustrating to use Jake’s old equipment, but I did eventually manage to print an invoice, and as a stroke of genius, I think, after the amount due I added some additional lines. “Masters Ethical Rentals is proud to support the A A S S. Tick this box and five percent of the billed price will be donated to them in furtherance of their vital work to improve the conditions of slaves.” You may thing I’m stupid to forgo a lot of money, but I had of course inflated the amount owing by five percent anyway as I felt certain Mrs Farrar would tick the box!

When I got out to the house, though, I couldn’t immediately discuss the invoice as Mrs Farrar was visibly upset. She seemed embarrassed, and she offered me tea but I declined, adding “Dear Mrs Farrar, you look upset – perhaps a sherry would help you recover your composure…?”

“Mr Masters, you are indeed perceptive.” She sat me on one of the couches and sat opposite me as she poured me a tiny glass of fino, and a substantially larger one for herself. I sipped at mine, but she took a large swallow of hers.

I waited, then looked enquiringly at her. “I hardly know where to begin, Mr Masters. Especially as you have been so kind and generous to me. My life has been transformed with my pony. And I was so worried about the grounds…. But the front in particular now, where everyone can see, is looking so much better….”

“Dear lady, you seem worried. Please tell me what’s wrong…”

“I’m afraid that you will have to remove your slaves, Mr Masters. I cannot have them here tomorrow, or indeed at all….”

I was shocked. And terrified, I suppose, at the thought of losing not only the money from the rental but any chance of being able to show a bank I needed investment, investment with which I could buy dad.

“But they are doing excellent work, as you said. And surely you want the rear to be as splendid as the front ready for next season’s garden parties? And the fresh vegetables…?”

“Indeed, Mr Masters. But I can see now why owners must sometimes punish slaves, punish them severely, whip them, even. But I cannot possibly do that, and so they must be removed, take them away with you, please, Mr Masters…”

“Of course, if that’s your wish. But something has happened… Please do tell me…”

“I cannot allow them to treat poor Mortimer in the way they did this morning! It has upset him, upset me, upset me deeply…”

“What on earth did they say to your friend?”

“It wasn’t what they said, Mr Masters – although their language was vile! It was when they threw a stone at him…!”

I was now deeply shocked. What the fuck had those two been up to? I was about to ask more, when there was a loud “Meow” and a lot of scrabbling noises, and a cat appeared on the top of the couch on which Mrs Farrar was sitting. It was sleek and evil looking, a striped ginger thing, and it eased itself down to sit beside Mrs Farrar, and she at once began to stroke it. “Poor Mortimer, are you all worried? Have you recovered from what those dreadful men did this morning?” she asked it, ignoring me.

“It…” I recovered myself quickly “HE seems to be all right – did you need to call a veterinarian?”

“Oh no, Mr Masters. Mortimer has very quick reactions, and can run like the wind. You can see that he is sleek, and muscular, and very fit – he is a champion mouser, and usually brings me a ‘present’ of one, or a bird, at least every day…. No, he was not actually hit by your brutes as he was easily able to avoid the stone one of the animals threw at him. But he was in shock…”

I looked at the thing, which was glaring at me, and it didn’t seem to be in shock at all. It looked just like any other cat. I decided that Mrs Farrar doted on it and that therefore I was in serious difficulty.

“I’m afraid it is always a problem with slaves, ma’am. However good you are to them – did you notice I had provided them with smart new uniforms this morning, to give them a pride in their work? – their animal mentality can come through.” I saw her begin to react and realised my error. “Their brute animal mentality, that is – that of a hyena, or a wolf, or a wild bear, not of course the refined sensibility of a cat…”

“Quite so, Mr Masters. But they cannot be allowed to terrorise Mortimer again. I’m afraid you must remove them.”

“Of course. But then there is another difficulty – they will not have learned a valuable lesson in compassion to animals. And they might repeat this heinous activity with another client of mine, someone who may not have witnessed it, and where another dear companion, like Mortimer, might be terrorised.”

“But you must stop them, Mr Masters! I have heard about brutes like these. Although we in the A A S S strongly discourage it, is this one of those rare cases when the animal in them needs to be ‘calmed’?”

Fuck me, I thought. She wants them castrated for scaring her cat! But I needed to keep my eye on the bigger game and instead of telling her not to be so stupid and hypocritical I nodded wisely. “Indeed so. But perhaps they should be given one more chance…”

“No..”

“No, dear lady. Not another chance to terrorise Mr Mortimer, of course! One more chance to show that a slave can rise above his base instincts, that he can be properly remorseful and repentant… That way we could be sure they would never behave that way again.”

“But how…”

“Dear lady, I know it is against the principles of your society, and whilst they may deserve to be ‘calmed’, perhaps this is one of those rare instances where the slave needs to be severely chastised? A quick, harsh punishment to point out to them the error of their ways, followed by a proper repentance? We could be helping these poor creatures to understand their slavery better, and thus make them happier in future… A worthy aim, one which the Society endorses? We can make these slaves happier overall by severe punishment now.”

“You are so astute, Mr Masters. Yes, punishment and repentance, just as we learn from the good book, that is indeed a most suitable way forward. And if it works, then they can continue to work here, and they can continue to learn the moral lesson that hard manual labour is fulfilling….”

“I’m not sure how to put this, ma’am, to a lady of such sensibility, but perhaps you wish to witness the punishment? I know you and Mrs Wilkinson were shocked when the new pony Russ inadvertently exposed himself to you… I think it will be difficult for me to adequately chastise the slaves without their bare buttocks being visible…”

“I must endure it, I suppose. But you are evidently the kind of considerate person who any lady would be glad to have advise on these matters, approaching the issue with such delicacy. Do you propose to do it now?”

“Slaves are like puppies that are not house trained – if they make a mess, they need punishing immediately: the effect is lost if there is delay as they are incapable of tying together cause and effect. So unlike cats, of course, who do not make a mess in the house…”

“Oh Mr Masters, you do understand! You are a cat person, too! Do tell me about yours…”

“I’m afraid I cannot have a cat, ma’am. It would be unfair to it – I am about to go off to college, and I am busy all day, and there is no time for me to devote to the grooming, the care, and the… the companionship a cat needs.” I thought that sounded rather good.

“But now you must excuse me. I need to go to speak to the slaves and prepare them. And I will ring the bell when I am ready to administer the punishment.”

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