A Slaves Life

By Pete Brown

Published on Nov 11, 2023

Gay

A SLAVE'S LIFE, Part 10

By Pete Brown petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

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

Fortunately the visit where Rob had been so cruelly used seemed to finish, and we were "back to normal" slaving away at our projects but no longer wired tougher by our snout rings. Actually for huge periods of time you're not really aware of the big ring through your septum - it doesn't really get in the way as you munch your slave biscuit, and it's quite tightly fitted so it doesn't bob up and down much as you're working. The time you really notice it is when you're being shaved, or when you want to kiss passionately.

In the next couple of weeks Craig and I worked out how we were going to manage our needs to 'top' with our desire to be together. It was simple, really - most nights each of us fucked one of the other guys in the group, which satisfied us, and made them happy. Then we came back together again to kiss and cuddle, always falling asleep wrapped up in each others arms. Occasionally we'd have sex together, and then it was more difficult - I didn't mind taking Craig up my ass all that much as I knew he needed to do this occasionally in order to 'control' me (but when I allowed him to do this, it was of course me who was still in charge). He really didn't like being fucked, though, and I absolutely had to insist - sometimes with a little force - that he took his turn and let me fuck him. But, all in all, it was a great time, and I don't think I've ever been happier.

I was supremely fit, using my body in the way that a man's muscles are designed to be used, for hard work. I had plenty of sex, with no need to plan for it or beg for it from ungrateful women, I was surrounded by guys who I really liked and we were all bonded together as a proper team, and I had no worries at all - I slept deeply every night, completely untroubled by thoughts about work, promotion, how I could pay my bills, and all the other stuff that eats into a young guy's happiness. Sometimes, of course, I did think a bit about the future- would I end up down the mines, or in the organ banks? But as there was nothing I could do about this, there wasn't much point in worrying about it, was there? If I was going to be entombed, or sold off for spare parts, it would be the owner who decided and there was no influence that I could bring to bear on his decision.

My world contracted down to the estate, and, most of all, to the slave pen and my nightly frolics. Without books, newspapers, TV, radio or anything all I had to think about was my work assignment and which guy I was going to fuck that evening. Thinking about and performing sex was the only "free" activity I had, as every other aspect of my life was controlled by others - they decided when I should eat, when I should crap, and what work I should do. All the little things that obsess you as a young guy had been taken away - I didn't have to decide what clothes to wear to help pull the women, I didn't have to worry about whether I'd made the right impression on someone at work, or in a club, I didn't have to scheme to get the money to run a fancy car... All I had to do was obey orders and work, and fuck.

My owner did decide to breed from me, and in the middle of one morning he came to collect me to take me to the stud - part of the estate we were never usually allowed to enter. Karl was pulling his rickshaw as usual, and, as before, I was chained to the back of it by my snout ring and had to run at a cracking pace to keep up.

None of the other guys had been put to stud before, and there had been no stories of what was involved so I had no idea what to expect. I suspected that it would all be done by artificial insemination - they'd wank me, and use my fresh cum to impregnate the women, and that I was only being taken to the stud so that my semen would be as fresh as possible.

We went through a pair of gates into the stud compound, and I was surprised to see a lot of kids playing - well, I guess if you're breeding slaves, you do have to let them grow up somewhere, don't you?

As I was watching, fascinated, a guard came out and unchained me and motioned for me to follow him into the building. He led me along a corridor and into an office, and there was the familiar veterinarian.

"Just a quick check up, Jon", he said. "We don't want to spread any nasty diseases into the herd, do we?". He quickly took a blood sample, and popped it into an automatic analyser, then turned his attention back to me.

"You do know what to do, don't you?"

"Sir, what do you mean, sir?"

"You have fucked women, haven't you? You know what's expected? You're one of the ones who was heterosexual before enslavement, weren't you, so you know how to impregnate a woman?"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

"Good. Then I don't have to give you a little lecture and demonstration, as I do for some of the slaves the owner selects to breed from - those coming straight from a breeding farm have sometimes never even seen a woman before they're brought here, so it's best to check and make sure. Anyway, just do as you normally would - just the fucking, that is - all the preparatory work has been done. A full hard erection, then fuck until you shoot. Stay in there for a couple of minutes to give your swimmers a start up her tubes, then pull out, and it's all over and you can go back to work."

At that moment the analyser pinged, and he looked at the results rather cursorily.

"All in order, as I expected. You were clean when you came here, and we're careful not to let any infection get in - it would spread like wildfire if it did, with all you studs fucking away every night. So let's do the business."

He led me out and into a room marked "stud hall" on the door. One side of it was lined with tiny cells, each one containing a naked man - I'd heard that the owner was 'lightening the herd', and these men looked as if they'd been chosen to do just that - all of them had blond hair, and were in that classic 'Scandinavian' mould - tall, broad shouldered, small waists, flaring ass, long legs, and. I suppose, handsome features.

"Don't worry about the house studs", the vet said. "They kind of resent the owner electing to breed from his other slaves, and they might try to put you off - they like to call out at critical moments, in the hope of putting you off your stroke. Still, it amuses them - they've got not much else to do, poor bastards - they're kept in their cages almost all the time, as the owner wants them totally focussed on fucking. They aren't even allowed to play with themselves, or with their fellows."

There was a table in the open area in the middle of the room, and a big black woman was brought in by a guard. She lay on her back and spread her legs, and remained there quiet and calm.

"This is one of our most experienced brood mares", the vet said. He seemed to have a penchant for these unnecessary remarks to explain things when no explanation was really necessary. "She's had twelve pups so far, so she knows what to do. Now... I've got to prepare you...."

Gently he pulled my arms behind my back and slipped a pair of handcuffs around my wrists to hold them there.

"We've had problems with slaves being a little over eager, and actually damaging some of the mares", he went on, "So the owner had decreed that all the studs should be cuffed. Now.... Yes... The owner is in the viewing gallery, so we can get on with it."

He put an arm around my shoulder and led me to stand between the woman's legs. Then, to my amazement, he started to wank me. I was on the edge of an erection anyway, and it only took a couple of strokes to make me hard. He used my cock as a handle to guide me over to the woman, and then, even more astonishingly, actually inserted me into her slit!

"The owner likes everything to be properly supervised", he told me, "and it's easier if I get you started like this when your hands are cuffed. Now... Get fucking!"

Well, have you ever tried it? Having the owner watching, the vet standing within a foot of me, and with my cock inside a big black woman I didn't know and didn't fancy, was too much. I just froze, as if I was rooted to the spot.

"Come on, Jon.... You can do it... fuck her....", the vet was saying. And then he moved around behind me, put his hands on my hips, and started to guide me backwards and forwards, in and out!

That's all I needed, really - the spell was broken, and my reflexes took over. In spite of the catcalls from the caged studs and the completely unnatural way in which I was having to perform, I started to thrust vigorously and soon - very soon - I pumped a huge load into her. I went to pull out, but the vet was behind me, preventing it "No, stay inside for a couple of minutes as I told you to", he said "Research has shown that when the sire stays inside the dam after impregnation the chances of conception are as much as 15% higher."

So I had to stand there, buried inside this black woman, being watched by the owner, vet and the studs. I hated it, I hated being used in this way, and I hated the thought that I might have just fathered a child who would grow up only knowing life as a slave.

But then it was over, and the vet led me away, back to his surgery, where he uncuffed me and then allowed me to wash the woman's juices off my cock. At one time I couldn't have even thought about doing something as intimate as this in front of another man, but now it seemed almost natural, so used had I become o thinking of my body as something that was always on display.

"Do you want to know what you've sired, assuming it takes, although it should as she's at the peak of her season and your sperm is young and virile?"

"Sir, what, sir?"

"Well, assuming that you have successfully impregnated her, do you want to know if you've sired a daughter, or a son? If it's a son, you'd be a father, although it's unlikely you'd ever meet the slave. But we routinely abort females, as there's not much call for female slaves - they don't work as hard as men do, and most owners don't want the worry of pregnancies and so on so they choose males as sex toys. Male slaves fetch, on average, five times the price of females, so there's not much point in breeding females, is there?"

I didn't know what to say - did I want to know, or not? I couldn't really think of a reply to the vet's question. But he seemed to sense this, as he went on "You're like a lot of young men faced with fatherhood - you don't really want to know. It's OK to fuck, but when the woman is pregnant, you lose interest. Most of the studs in here aren't concerned about it, so you're not unusual. However you will know to some extent - if you're called back to stud again within two months it will be because it was a female. If you don't stud again for a year or so, it will because the owner has decided to see what the progeny actually looked like before using you again."

As he'd been so talkative, I thought I could risk a question.

"Sir, please, sir....."

"You may speak, slave."

"Sir, why does the owner actually make us fuck the women like this? Surely he could just take my semen and use artificial insemination. It would be less humiliating for me, and the woman.... And, as you say, some guys don't know how to fuck women at all, and don't want to...."

The vet just laughed for a moment, then gave me a little lecture. "You've been a slave here for some time now, and you still don't get it, do you? How on earth can it be 'humiliating', either for you or the woman, to have intercourse? Your owner has decided that you should, and that's it. Whether he watches, or invites audiences of thousands to watch, is not relevant. You're a slave, your master decides what you should do, and you should be proud to be obeying his orders. There's no humiliation in this - a proper slave would be standing there now rejoicing that he had served his owner as his owner commanded. It's the same for the men who have never, or don't like, fucking a woman - it's completely irrelevant, if they are slaves."

"On your second point, about AI, I think you'll find it's absolutely normal to require live 'covering' where expensive animals are concerned. Sure, if you're a farmer with a herd of hundreds of cattle, you buy in bull semen and squirt it up them. But if you breed race horses, or pedigree dogs, it's always done 'live' - the rules of horse racing, and the kennel club, absolutely forbid AI. The stallion or dog usually travels to the mare or bitch, and the owners watch whilst they 'cover' them, with vets in attendance to make sure all goes well. The owner has a big string of race horses at Newmarket in England, and he knows how the system works, so he simply 'imported' it here - that's why I guided you in to her like that, as the owner knows that that's what vets do in breeding sessions."

I listened to all of this, and my mind was reeling. I kind of went along with the first point - if you were a slave, I suppose yo have to obey all your owner's commands, but I still felt a bit embarrassed. But when I saw how the owner really thought of us - as being just like his string of race horses - I almost rebelled. I wasn't an animal, I was a man. I went to argue with the vet, but he had moved on.

He slapped me playfully on my ass, and said "Now, we're all finished here, so it's back to work for you."

The owner had left by this time in his rickshaw, so I was just sent back to the site we were working on - I could walk back, at my own pace, and look around me for a change! As I went I thought about escape, but I knew it was impossible because of the security necklace I still wore, and the effects on my mates. It made me realise that being chained behind the rickshaw, and being marched in and out by the guards in the morning and evening, were just ploys to make slaves seem to be under tight control - in practice, I could walk around my myself with no fear of escape and I was just as much "under control" as if I was tightly bound and guarded. They also didn't need to lock us in our pens at night, either - where else would we go, or what else could we do? No, this whole slave thing, as practised here at the estate, was about manipulation and control of a man's will. We accepted that we were slaves, there were a number of ways that that acceptance was reinforced in our every day lives, and so we were slaves.

I might have carried on this speculation for longer, but I'd got back to the site and as soon as I arrived there was the "encouragement" of the Overseer's whip on my naked ass, as he'd seen me walking up, rather than running.

That night the other guys all wanted to know what it was like to "stud", and so I told them. None of us could understand why the Owner had selected me, rather than any of the others, as none of them could remember this having happened before., and it's still a mystery to me. Perhaps it was just a whim, to try out using ordinary slaves rather than one of the herd studs, who knows!

I just didn't feel like fucking that night, and I suppose that was just as well as none of the guys would really ant a cock up them that had been inside a woman earlier that day, would they? So I lay with Craig immediately, and we nuzzled and caressed, and he held me tight.

Craig's a sensitive guy, and he didn't even take advantage of me by trying to fuck me that night. And when he started to wank me, I even pushed his hand away.

"You're upset, Jon.... Hey, don't worry... Whatever it is it isn't the end of the world...."

"No, I'm OK."

"No you're not! I've never known you to turn down an opportunity for sex. Now, what's the problem? Tell Craig all about it... We're best mates, aren't we? We're real fuck buddies, and we ought to have no secrets...."

"Well, it's just that... Well... Well firstly I didn't enjoy fucking that woman. And secondly, I'm worried about the kid."

"So, you didn't enjoy it. So what?"

"But I used to. I used to spend all my time trying to get a fuck, and then planning the evening, and doing it.... It was a big thrill.... And now.... The vet had to make me hard before I could even go up her..."

"Don't be stupid, Jon, it's perfectly normal! You've got all the sex you want now, with a bunch of good mates. Why should you want to chase after women when all these guys are ready and willing? And haven't you found that sex with men is much, much better than sex with women? I think a lot of guys are conditioned by society to the women and marriage thing, and don't realise what they're missing by fucking their mates. You're just one of the lucky ones - being here has shown you what proper sex is all about."

"Yes, but if I've fathered a son, he'll grow up as a slave...."

"Is that such a terrible thing? It's not a bad life here, actually, is it? Even for us, who've known something different, it's quite agreeable. We're healthy, fit, stress-free, and we have great sex all the time. How many guys did you know before who could say that? And a guy who grows up as a slave would have all of that from day one.... So I shouldn't worry about it. Just be glad that you've done your bit for the human race, passing on your genes so they're not lost to the gene pool - after all, with a body like yours, the human race deserves to have it passed on...."

Craig was laughing as he said this, and hugged me tighter to him, and I had to smile! Well, his views were a bit reassuring, and, perhaps more importantly, I couldn't think of any arguments to really refute them. And as he been talking, he'd been playing with my cock and I was now hard. With a little sigh I turned around to face him more closely, and reached down for his cock so that we could mutually wank.


Time seemed to have little meaning for us, as every day was so much like the other. Of course we worked on different projects, but some of these were "repeats" - things we'd laboured to build some time before were torn down, or re-built slightly differently. There was "new work", of course, but it was apparent that we were kept not just for this but as display objects, to demonstrate the owner's power over men, and so it was important that we were always occupied.

Occasionally we enjoyed Stu, and he was growing up and developing - when I first came to the estate he'd been a well developed sixteen year old, but as time went on he put on more muscle in response to the normal growing and maturing process that all young men go through. He really liked me to fuck him, but in order to avoid problems with Craig I also ensured that when he was with us Craig fucked him too.

One morning as we worked away I looked up to see the water spout poking towards me and went to take a drink, then stopped in shock - it wasn't Stu holding the skin filled with water, but a new kid: like Stu when I'd first seen him, he looked to be sixteen, had a lithe but undeveloped body, and an arrogant sixteen-year old cock that was jutting out rock hard from his low-hanging balls.

"Where's....", I started, but stopped just in time before the Overseer heard.

It was almost beyond endurance that day: I was desperate to know what had happened to Stu, but there was no way of finding out. Once we were penned that night I asked all the others, but they were as mystified as me. I found myself feeling desperately sad, as I thought I might never meet Stu again, and I even considered earning a punishment for us all by daring to ask one of the guards.

As it had on so many occasions, the gate to our pen was opened a little later, and Stu came in! But a different Stu - he now sported a snout ring like the rest of us, and his cock, instead of hanging loose, was jutting out in front of him as he had been cinched. I think all of us were relieved that he was still here, but he came straight over to me and embraced me - it was odd to feel his cinched cock jutting into mine, and I asked him what happened.

"I'm one of you now, Jon. I'm one of the work crew. I'm no longer a water boy, but a proper hard-working slave, and I shall be living with you all permanently." He seemed to be so happy, that I wondered if he really knew what hard work was. But he explained that after being a water boy for two years - he had been "taken" when he was sixteen from the streets of London after he'd run away from home - the owner now judged him to be fully mature and read for a proper work assignment. Actually, looking at him, I could see that this was a good choice for him as during those two years he'd certainly filled out and was now a big, strapping lad with well formed muscles and the sort of biceps and calves that only young guys who look after their bodies can really acquire.

"It was difficult", Stu went on, "Because I heard Karl asking the owner one day if I could be made into a pony, like him. He was trying to get the owner to consider having a young 'racing' pony for short, high-speed journeys, and was always pointing out how my long legs would fit me for such a role. He just wanted to keep me living in the stables, of course, as he doesn't want to lose his fuck boy - but I'm a man and I want to choose who fucks me: I want to be with you, Craig and the other guys, not with that arrogant bastard."

"I thought that Karl was the owner's favourite slave", I cut in, "and that the owner sometimes spoke to him and let him take liberties denied the rest of us. If he asked the owner, why aren't you now in training on a running machine?"

"Who knows? Anyway, here I am. Now...."

He reached down for my cock, and playfully stroked me from a semi-erection to a full hard-on. "Please fuck me, Jon. You used to when I was visiting, and I know you fuck all the other guys. But I've always wanted to belong here properly, to be close to you, to have you fuck me so gently, not like that bastard Karl did every night.... With you it will be different - having you fuck me every night will be fantastic...."

"Look, Stu, it's not like that here. Craig and I ... Well.... We're kind of special friends, and the only guys we fuck regularly are each other. The rest of the guys have to take pot luck, and we fuck them if we feel like it. I'm sorry, Stu.... I will fuck you, and so will Craig. But not every night."

He looked so dejected. "But I thought.... The way you treated me when I came here occasionally..."

"Look, grow up! Of course we fucked you when you were here occasionally - variety is the spice of life, and a nice well-reamed young ass is a nice change from all the others. And I'll fuck you again, and so will Craig. But only because we want to, when we feel like it. You said you wanted to be a real member of this group, well, that's how it is here."

I had to be hard on the lad like this, as he did need to understand the rules of the game from the outset - he couldn't expect exclusive use of my cock, could he?

I've told you that my philosophy is that it's my pleasure that counts, and I enjoyed "playing the field" too much to want to agree to fuck just one guy - well, except Craig, and that's different. So for the rest of that night both Craig and I ignored him, and had one of those rare nights when we fucked each other. The other guys made a lot of him, though, and he had a lot of cocks to suck, and was brought to climax several times by the eager attentions of the other men.

It was tough for Stu - I don't think he was at all prepared for just how hard we all worked, and even though he was young and enthusiastic, his body still didn't yet have all the power that the rest of us had.

So he got lots of "encouragement" from the Overseer, and I could see that he hated this - as the water boy he'd hardly ever been whipped, I suspected. I also found it odd when the new boy came around with his sack to water us, he couldn't resist hefting the boy's cock whilst he sucked down his water, just as he'd told me some of the other slaves always did to him. Was he interested in the boy, or was he just acting out the role he thought slaves had?

That night he looked to be in real trouble, as his muscles were all stiff and tired, and as the gate of our pen closed I told Craig that I was going to help him out, but that I'd be back to sleep together later.

Craig shrugged, and decided to join in with three of the other guys who were having a circle jerk.

"Lie down", I told Stu, and at first he just sat huddled against the wall, looking a picture of misery.

"Lie down", I said again, thinking he hadn't heard me.

"On your belly. There's just space here."

He still ignored me, and it wasn't because he hadn't heard me - he was sulking! Well, I wasn't going to have that - none of the guys treats me that way, and I certainly wasn't going to stand it from an eighteen year old. So I slapped him - hard - across the face, and a slap from me with all the power of my body behind it is something you won't lightly forget. Stu fell over with the force of it, and lay there looking up at me, amazed at what I'd done.

"When I tell you to do something, you do it!", I snapped. "Now, unless you want more of that, lie down on your fucking belly."

Still looking at me almost in disbelief - he'd only seen me being nice on his visits before, I suppose - he rolled so that he was lying on his front, and I could see his body quivering and his chest heaving as if he was trying to stifle a sob.

I straddled him, and lowered my ass onto the base of his spine, taking some of my weight myself but letting my moist ass hole make contact with him. I leaned forward and put my big hands on his shoulders.

"This is what I was going to do if you hadn't been so pig ignorant", I told him as I drew my hands in big strokes down his back, towards me. "You looked all beat, and I remember from when I first came here how much I hurt after my first day's labour. I can't massage you properly as there's no oil or anything, but I'm going to dig my hands into all your muscles and try to work some of the tension out of them for you. Now...."

I did his shoulders several times, then moved down so that I was squatting over his calves in order that I could knead his ass muscles to bring life back into them. There was nothing sexual about it - I deliberately didn't let my fingers go into his crack, and just concentrated on squeezing and relaxing his buttocks, before doing the same thing to each of his thighs.

Then I rolled him over, and massaged his pecs, but I couldn't resist tweaking his tits just a bit to add a little amusement to it - and Stu reacted by arching his body and moaning at me gently. By the time I'd worked his belly, he was erect - his cinched cock was straight up, and pre-cum was flowing liberally all down it. I stroked it once or twice, and the flow speeded up, and the lad was moaning and whispering "Yes, please, Jon, please...."

I knew how the lad must be sore, and although I quite fancied fucking him thought that it probably wasn't right that night, so instead I did something I'd never done before - I squatted down over him and guided his cock up into my ass, then raised myself up and down, just as he had on mine the first time we met.

Fortunately it only took a few strokes before he came, as I didn't find it very pleasant - well, his cock was OK, and I was used to having a cock up me. But I didn't like the strain it put on my thighs as I had to raise and lower myself on him.

I leaned forward over him then, still taking most of my weight on my hands and knees, and he was smiling.

"So, felling better?"

"No - I still ache everywhere. But I feel a lot more alive now - thanks, that was fantastic. But the other guys told me you were a 'top' and you didn't take it...."

"I don't, usually. But this 'top' and 'bottom' thing is not absolute. Most tops take it occasionally, and most bottoms can fuck an ass if they want to. You shouldn't attach labels to guys just like that. I thought your cock needed an ass, and you're in no fit state to give a man a proper fucking, so I gave you a little treat. But don't expect that will happen often!"

As usual, it was of course me who'd decided what was to be done, and I'd managed the thing. But now I had to think about Craig, so I said to Stu "Now go and find some of the other guys to sleep with you tonight - you need a couple of nice warm bodies around you to keep those muscles warm and subtle and get you ready for the morning."

"But won't you..."

"For fuck's sake, Stu.... Don't you understand: I'm with Craig. We almost always sleep together. Go and find your own fuck buddy."

I judged it best to be honest with the guy - although I liked him and I enjoyed his body, there was no way I could manage having him as a regular buddy and at the same time keep Craig. Stu had to learn that he was just like the other guys in our group, there to be used when Craig and I wanted an ass to fuck.

Stu did look pretty pissed off, though, or was he just sad to find out that life as a slave in our group was not all that he expected? But he soon recovered - as Craig and I were nuzzling and playing with each other later that night I could see that he and some of the other guys were all happily intertwined with each other, and there was a lot of those noises that only men in heat make.

The following morning, as it happens, we were all allowed to shower, and we knew that that usually meant trouble - the owner must e having a party of guests, and wanted us to be shown to our best advantage. We had learned to hate these parties, as it always involved working "snouted" together, and, quite often, terrible sexual humiliation at the hands of the guests who did, of course, have complete freedom to use any of the owner's slaves for their pleasure. We were not often chosen, fortunately, as our great strength and heavily muscled bodies, our snout rings and cinching tended to put off all but the most intrepid guests. I understood that it was the waiters in the house who came off worse as they were all very accessible and were specially chosen to have nice bodies and handsome faces.

We were surprised that this time we weren't "snouted", even though we were moved to one of the special "make work" tasks near the house. This time we were breaking up a slab of thick cement into small pieces, and wheeling them away in barrows - we'd only poured that slab about six months ago when another party of guests was staying. It's really hard - raising and slamming down the big hammer to break up the concrete really jars all your muscles, although it provides a good spectacle for the guests, I suppose: there's something about the way that every part of you is working when you have to raise the hammer high, then drive it down, that really exposes you. Your arms, chest, belly and thighs are all straining, and whether viewed from the front or back, naked men doing this kind of work are, unmistakably, slaving away!

Although we were never allowed to stop working, of course, we always tried to catch a glimpse of the guests. For one thing, it made for a bit of variety in your life. And for another, if there was a possibility that they might select you for sex later, it was good to see them first, clothed. The owner usually invited groups of about ten to twelve, containing a few women, but this time it was different - sitting in the shade, sipping the drinks that the house slaves took to them, were just a couple of guys.

They didn't seem to be very old, and I thought they looked about the same age as Stu.

They were watching us for some time, but eventually Karl appeared and both guys got into the tiny rickshaw - Karl must have really sweat that day to pull two passengers, and they didn't seem to be sparing the whip on his hard ass, either, as they evidently fancied themselves as drivers and wanted a fast pace. I suppose all young guys like to drive fast, and they were just doing the same thing in a rickshaw as they'd do in a car.

The men were there again in the afternoon on the shady terrace, and they seemed to be very good friends - as we surreptitiously watched, they each fucked a waiter, making it into a kind of race to see who could cum first! It was funny to see their naked asses pounding up and down - they were nicely muscled (although not powerfully so) and from my own youth I remembered how it felt to be that age and having sex: you're fit from games and the gym, and always horny, and always ready for it when you can get it. In my case I fucked girls, and I couldn't get it very often, but these men seemed to be really enjoying the waiters, and it wasn't so very different from how I'd been. No - the funny thing was that their asses were white - we were all so used to seeing other slaves who were, like us, deeply tanned, that it came as a bit of a shock to remember that some men could not expose themselves to the sun.

They fucked away unconcerned, then dressed, and sauntered over to where we were all working and watched us intently for some time - it was almost as if they were making notes on us.

End Of Part 10

Next: Chapter 11


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