With eyes downcast, Billy walked slowly up the gangplank of a big two-masted Bay schooner. His thoughts were a swirling muddle of fear and sadness and uncertainty. A tug on the cloth-covered brass collar around his neck reminded him to keep up with the slave in front of him, to whom Billy was attached by a 4-foot length of chain. Billy's eyes focused on the neck of the whitey slave, encircled by a thick bare-metal collar, to which the chain was attached by a new-looking padlock. An identical lock chafed at the front of Billy's neck.
The boy tried to avoid looking at the gruesome cross-hatching of whip scars on the man's bare back. Whenever he did, a chill ran through his body, and he thought he might begin to cry again.
"Hurry it up, you damned whities," grumbled one of the longshoremen behind them, who was carrying a wooden trunk on his shoulder. Like everyone else on the ship and in the harbor, the longshoreman had brown skin, wavy black hair, and a broad nose. The pale complexions and straight blond hair on Billy and his fellow slave were rarely seen in these parts.
The massive depopulation and societal collapse brought about by the Global Plague of 2003 had radically changed the racial mix of the entire population in this area... a place once known as the Eastern Shore of Maryland. For reasons little understood then, and completely forgotten now, the genetically-engineered plague struck people of European descent much harder than those of other races. Over the past 200 years, the so-called white race had been homogenized out of existence. Pockets of pure-blood whites were still found out in the Appalachian Mountains, to the west of the civilized region. And sometimes a genetic throw-back -- like Billy -- would be born to brown parents, but with the characteristics of a white ancestor.
Supervising the procession up the gangplank was the slave-seller who had just purchased Billy's indenture... the document that bound him to servitude until his 18th birthday. Billy and the other slave were directed to a room down in the ship's hold where there were crude wooden benches along each wall, with sets of open shackles chained to the floor every few feet and metal rings bolted to the wall at neck level. Billy scanned the room and figured that 30 slaves could be held in the room, but there were just the two of them on this voyage. The merchant directed the two slaves to click shackles onto their ankles. Then he put a key in the padlock on Billy's slave-collar, removed the chain, and ran it through a ring on the wall. Then he doubled the chain up on the buck-slave's collar, tethering him to the wall on a 2-foot leash.
"Don't get too comfortable, boy," he said to Billy; "I'm bringing you up to my cabin as soon as we're under way."
When the merchant had left, Billy sat in silence, looking occasionally at the silent man beside him. Finally, he could suppress his curiosity no longer. "What's your name, mister? Where you from?"
The man stared at the boy with a blank, lifeless expression for long moments, making Billy feel even more hopeless and scared. A fearsome scar ran from his hairline to his chin. Finally his face creased into a slight smile, and life came into his eyes. Then he spoke, in a low tone and in a voice that was accented unlike any that Billy had ever heard.
"Best keep our talk low. Master don't take kindly to slaves talking amongst theyselves. But I'll answer your questions best I can... til Master comes back. They call me Cicero; it's a danged slave-name that my first owner gave me. Afore then, I was Jeremiah Hatfield. But that was a long time ago, afore the raiding party took me."
"My name's Billy Mfume. Do you think, Mr. Cic.... uh, I mean Mr. Hatfield... you think they'll give ME a new name too?"
"Naw, young'un. You're what they call an indentured slave. Heard Master talkin' to the merchant that sold you. They don't generally rename your type. Life-term slaves like me though...."
"I saw you at the fairgrounds.... We look kinda the same, don't we."
"Aye, lad. You're as white as any of my people from the western mountains."
"You say they captured you?" said Billy with an expression of wonder. Then sadness passed over his face as he added "My Pa... he... he sold me for money to pay the taxes." Billy was still trying to comprehend how Pa could have squandered the family's money, and then gone and sold his younger son into servitude.
"Aye; captured. I made the mistake of arrogance and carelessness, Billy. I was fool enough to think that a whitey like me could farm the bottom-land along the Potomac River and be left alone by the brown folk from the East. Well, I was wrong. Shoulda stayed up in the mountain hollows with my own people. The raiders caught me while I planting... gave me this here cut across my face in the fight... and took my wife and daughter too. They said we was illegal squatters on land owned by the guv'ment of Washington. If'n you don't know it already, whenever a whitey gets caught up with the Brown Man's law, seems like the penalty's always a lifetime with one of these collars around his neck. You ask me, it's just a way for the guv'ment to make money from the slave auctions... and for the brown aristocrats to get more bodies to work their plantation fields, and slave-women for their beds.
"So anyhow, ain't seen my wife or child since the sale at the Washington City slave auction. My little girl was only 5 then, and we was all sold separate. I been tryin' to escape off and on for... oh round about 6 years. And you can see from the stripes on my back what it's gotten me."
"Gosh," muttered the boy in a low voice. "That's terrible...."
The man put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Let me give you some advice, Billy.... Just because your folks sold you, that don't mean its right. Slavery's an unnatural condition for the human soul. But for now, you best do what you're told. You'll be a free man eventually, so just go along with this evil as best you can. Don't be stupid and get yourself whipped for nothing. But don't never let yourself start thinking it's proper, what they's doing to you. Hear? You keep your pride, even if you have to hide it down deep inside you. But if'n they mistreat you bad... or you can't no longer tolerate the things the Brown Man makes you do... then you think up a good plan, and when the time's right, you skedaddle. Head for the western mountains, where white folks can live in freedom. Try to get north, to the banks of the Potomac River, and follow it all the way up til it's a bitty stream. There's good folk in the mountains -- whities just like you and me -- who'll take you in. Understand?"
"But Mr. Hatfield, should I...."
Footsteps sounded on the steps down to the hold, and the conversation stopped immediately. The slave merchant came in, carrying the brass key ring that hung outside the door and unlocked the shackles holding Billy's ankles. The youngster followed the man up to the deck and saw that the ship had pulled away from the harbor and entered the broad Choptank River, its sails catching the light breeze of the late afternoon. Across the deck, down another set of steep steps, and along a narrow corridor, they came to the merchant's tiny cabin. When they were both inside, the man pushed the lock closed and sat on the narrow bunk, as Billy stood in front of him.
"Alright, boy; lesson number one," he said in a gruff business- like voice. "You're a slave. For the next 5 years and however many months, you are owned by your master. Right now, that's me. Soon it'll be someone else. Regardless who it is, you address that man as 'Master' every single time. Understand?"
"Yes, sir," said Billy timidly.
The man's open hand slapped the boy hard across the side of his head, almost knocking him over.
"Not too bright, are you, boy. Not 'yes, sir.' The response is 'yes, MASTER'. Understand?"
"Y-yes, m-m-master," stammered Billy, struggling to keep from crying.
"That's better. As I was saying, your master owns you... totally. He owns your mind, body, and soul. Anything he orders you to do... ANYTHING... you do without hesitation. If you displease your master, you get punished. Simple as that. Don't go thinking that because the ownership papers say 'indentured servant' on them that you'll any less a slave than a life-term buck like that Cicero fella down in the hold. Until you serve out your contract, you're no different."
The man reached into his big wooden truck and pulled out a leather riding crop.
"See this, boy? Hold out your left hand, palm up."
"Y-yes, Master," said Billy, staring at the 18-inch crop. Feelings of apprehension threatened to overwhelm him.
SLAP! The tip of the riding crop whipped down on his open palm. It felt like a hornet-sting to Billy, and tears immediately formed in his eyes, though he kept his hand extended.
"You can put your hand down. This-here tool is for when I'm a little displeased with a slave... like when I think he's not trying hard enough. A few dozen swats with this thing on your bare backside might make you more attentive to what I'm trying to teach you, don't you think, boy?"
"Oh, YES, Master!" said Billy, trying to emphasize his willingness to please, even as he wiped away the tears from his cheeks.
The man set the riding crop down and again reached into the trunk. He pulled out a whip of braided black leather, 4 feet long. When the slaver flicked his arm quickly, the whip made a loud snapping sound. The tip struck an unlit candle in a nearby wall-sconce, and a chunk of wax flew across the room.
"You know the scars on the back of that dim-witted Cicero?"
Billy could hardly make his voice work, but he croaked out the words "Yes... Master."
"I'd use this-here whip on a slave's back when I'm truly angry. You'd NEVER make me angry at you... would you, boy?"
"Oh, NO, Master! Never!"
"Just wanted to let you know where you stand, boy. Now, let's see what you look like under those filthy clothes of yours... and see how obedient you are. Put your hands above your head."
"Yes, Master," said the boy, almost eagerly, as he saw the whip go back into the trunk and the riding crop onto a bed-side shelf. He held his arms up straight as the man walked over to him.
The merchant pulled Billy's rough canvas shirt off over his head with one tug and sat down on the bunk. Billy could almost feel the man's gaze exploring his body.
"Clasp you hands together behind your neck, boy."
"Yes, Master," he repeated automatically as he instantly obeyed, entwining his fingers and spreading his elbows to the sides.
The man pulled the boy up close to him and let his hands wander over Billy's torso... shoulders, chest, arms, back. He smiled as his fingertips teased the barely-visible tan nipples into tiny nubs. Then he leaned forward and licked at each nipple as the boy stood at attention. Looking up into Billy's eyes, the man saw a degree of embarrassment, but the lad showed no sign of resisting. That was a good start. He ran his fingers along the soft hairless skin of Billy's exposed armpit... then brought his nose close to inhale the scent... then licked at the salty dried boy-sweat. Billy sought unsuccessfully to suppress a ticklish giggle. The slaver was so intoxicated by the subtle richness of the boy's musk that he moved over to the silky skin beneath the other arm and repeated the actions.
The merchant's hands then went to the boy's belt -- a length of sturdy rope -- and loosened the knot. With his hands holding up the over-sized trousers on each side of Billy's waist, he gradually lowered them, uncovering the boy's lower belly, then his hairless pubic region, then the base of the flaccid penis. The man loved to draw out this part of his ritual... uncovering a boy's pleasure parts ever-so-slowly. It was a demonstration of the slave's submission... and it was so damned-much fun besides. He glanced again into the 12-year-old's face and saw Billy's cheeks blushing a rosy red. But the man could tell there would be no resistence... no crying.
He let the trousers drop to the floor, exposing a penis of very pleasing proportions and a short foreskin that allowed the tip of the boy's cock-head to peek out. Billy's maturing balls were bigger than the man had anticipated, and hung down in a sack that was neither boyishly compact nor particularly low-hanging. The overall package made a splendid appearance indeed!
The merchant was increasingly optimistic about an easy and profitable sale at auction when they pulled into the port city the next day. The lad would likely be bought by one of the fancier boy-brothels... though it was possible that a wealthy man might be looking for a pretty young white boy as his concubine.
The slaver thought it unlikely he'd be sold to one of the workingmen's brothels... where he'd spend his days and nights in a dank room the size of this ship-cabin, serving customers who had paid a dime for a quick round of suck-and-fuck. That was the kind of place where a busy night might find a line of rowdy, drunken men congregating outside the boy's room, waiting their turn for a fuck... where some extra money paid to the proprietor allowed a customer to get as rough as he wanted with a boy-whore. But these places -- the kind of whorehouse the slaver had patronized numerous times -- didn't usually bid the kind of money that the merchant was hoping to get for Billy.
Of course, in order to fetch a top price the lad would need to display some talent for sex-work. A brothel-owner or a wealthy aristocrat would certainly want to check him out before bidding lavishly. But there was all night... and the morning too... to teach the lad some basics. And the slaver had always thoroughly enjoyed this sort of instruction.
Billy flinched slightly as the merchant's fingertips came up beneath his balls, lifting them as if gauging their weight, teasing the soft skin and feeling each testicle. His fingers moved up to fondle the soft penis, and for a long moment the boy seemed incapable of pulling air into his lungs. Billy looked down to watch as his foreskin was slid back and forth across the reddish glans, as the man's other hand reached around to caress the boy's baby-smooth ass.
Billy was deeply embarrassed, and his cheeks burned with a hot glow. He didn't want the man to think that he was enjoying this... but at the same time, he couldn't suppress the stirrings of pleasure in his crotch. It seemed humiliating for his body proclaim that this stranger's touch was so arousing, he knew that a worse fate awaited if he were to resist. Billy's brain attempted to keep his penis from going stiff, but within few moments the man's masturbating strokes had brought Billy's cock to a rigid 4-inch boner... and his face blushed an even deeper shade of crimson.
"Hmmm... excellent! Nice and plump for a young one," murmured the man to himself. Then to Billy: "Turn around and let me see your back."
"Yes, sir... I mean, MASTER!" said the boy as he turned, hands still behind his head.
"Ever been whipped or caned?" asked the slaver, as his right hand explored every square inch of the boy's back and buttocks. (His left hand was curled around Billy's slender waist as he continued fondling the boy's erection).
"No, Master!" He didn't mention that Pa had spanked him bare- handed whenever he got caught doing something naughty.
"Good.... Lay across my lap, boy. Face-down."
Billy allowed himself to be positioned with his legs straddling the merchant's right thigh... his torso extending diagonally back onto the bunk to the man's left. A strong arm held the boy securely, and Billy's right leg was trapped between the man's closed thighs. Billy trembled slightly and his body tensed. This was similar to the position in which Pa spanked him.
The slaver took a deep breath... aroused as always by this part of the breaking-in... a ritual that he performed on every young slave-boy he acquired. His right hand gently explored the slender rounded ass that rose up so invitingly as he lifted his knee slightly. And he thoroughly enjoyed the feeling of Billy's erection pressed firmly against his thigh.
"A slaveboy with your looks can have an easy life... if you play it right and do everything I tell you. I imagine the farmers and watermen round where you grew up told you that whitey boys are ugly... but I'll tell truthfully that city folks these days find your type to be right sexy. You're going to sell for a good price, boy, and your new master will likely treat you well. But you need to do whatever it takes to please your master... being a sexy little slut for him. Your job will be to pleasure a man completely... to satisfy him in ways he's never even though of." Billy heard the man spit and then felt a wet finger touch his clenched anal opening. The digit slowly pushed in. Billy's mind swirled with emotions and feelings... fear, tension... and, yes, the pleasure from his stiff cock as it rocked on the man's leg. And he thought about the previous night, when Martin's finger had been in the same secret place as the man's was now.
"You ever been fucked, boy?"
Billy's throat was totally incapable of emitting a words. How could he talk about how he and Martin had made love the previous night?
"Boy?" the man repeated, after a moment of silence.
"I... I... I..."
The finger popped out of Billy's ass, and then...
WACK! WACK! WACK!....
The man's right hand came down quickly with ten wicked spanks that were harder than anything Billy had ever received across Pa's lap.
"OUCH! OUCH! I'm sorry, Master! OUCH! Oh, please, Master... OUCH!!... Yes, Master, I been fucked!" Billy was struggling to talk through his choking tears, even as the blows rained down. "Last night... my friend... my first time... the fairgrounds... we..."
"Never been fucked by a man?" said the merchant, as the spanking stopped, replaced by soft caresses of his hand on the red skin of Billy's ass cheeks.
"No, Master... I swear it! Please don't whip me, Master! PLEASE! I'll do whatever you want... I'll do everything you tell me!"
The slave-seller had no intention of bruising his merchandise. That would make a bad impression when he was selling the lad the next day in Norfolk Town. But he knew the value of fear in training a slave. It fostered a strong motivation... a readiness to obey instantly. But he also knew that he needed to treat this boy differently than he would a buck-slave field laborer. There was a need to balance the fear with a good dose of gentleness, and even some kindness, in order to break-in the boy just right.
"Just been fucked by a playmate, eh? Well, you've still got a nice tight hole, boy. That pleases me. But after your lessons tonight, I'll have you ready to take a man's cock. And I think you're starting to understand what it means to be a slave-boy... I think you've learned about the need to obey instantly. You're a smart lad, with imagination and initiative. I don't imagine you'll ever give me reason to spank you again, boy. Now sit up on my lap facing me, boy, and we'll get started with your training."
The man positioned Billy astride his lap... the boy's legs extending onto the bunk, to either side of the man's hips. Billy's hot, stinging butt rested on the man's thighs, and his penis was still as rigid as before the spanking. The merchant had a gentle expression as he looked into the slave-boy's teary eyes. He wrapped his arms around Billy's back and leaned forward to kiss the wet trails running down the boy's cheeks.
"First thing you'll learn is how to stoke a man's desire. Wrap your legs around behind my waist, and your arms around my neck. Agh... your expression! Your face looks so sad! Make your mouth and eyes sexy and seductive, like a ripe young teenage girl who's flirting with her beau. Yes; that's good! Now kiss me in a manner that will arouse my lust.... You DO know what I'm talking about, right?" He smiled when Billy bobbed his head energetically in the affirmative. "Good. I like the feel of a boy's tongue in my mouth, so don't be shy about using it. Let's see if you can kiss me with enough spirit to make my cock stiffen inside my trousers."
The man rubbed his hands along Billy's back, drawing the naked boy close to him in a gentle hug. Billy's lips pressed against the man's in a tender kiss, and his tongue flicked into the merchant's mouth. The boy was determined to do his best to make Master happy.... He'd do whatever it took.
Ten hours later....
Billy awoke with the early light of day dimly illuminating the inside of the small ship's-cabin. The sun had risen, but the cabin faced west, so it wasn't yet bright. The boy lay on the wood floor, with a woolen blanket covering him. Up on the narrow bunk, the slave merchant snored in a manner that reminded Billy of his Pa. The sound caused the boy's first waking thoughts to flood with memories of everything he had left behind... his home, his family. And Martin, his only boyhood friend, with whom he had experienced the first stirrings of young adolescent love only two nights ago. But as Billy began to sit up, the discomforts in his body pulled his consciousness to memories of what had occurred here in the cabin last night.
His jaw ached only a little from accommodating the girth of Master's erection for such an extended time, but his throat was sore whenever he swallowed... bruised by the repeated deep intrusions of a fat cock-head. He reached back and touched the inflamed flesh around his bottom-hole. Master had said he'd get accustomed to a man's cock penetrating him back there... and that before long he'd even accept a fucking with pleasure. Billy certainly hoped that it was true! But for now, his bottom felt very tender and his insides felt battered.
He had done everything that Master demanded, trying his utmost to memorize Master's numerous instructions for how to serve a man sexually. Billy understood that the slave-merchant was being very patient through it all. Master's temper had threatened to flare only once -- when the lad had balked at licking a place where he never even imagined placing his tongue. Without saying a word, Master had grabbed the riding crop... not moving from his position on the bunk... lying his back with his legs pulled back and his upper body propped up by a thick cushion. Billy knelt on the bunk, sitting back on his haunches, and cringed in anticipation of a whipping. But Master merely reached out and used the riding crop to guide Billy's head down. "Lick me there... NOW," he said in a low but ominous voice. Given this second chance, Billy sought to redeem himself, using his tongue on that hairy, musky place with energy and determination. As his tongue-tip corkscrewed into the orifice, the whip-end of the riding crop lightly caressed the boy's head and stroked along his back and buttocks.
The man was pleased at how well boy used his tongue, and during the course of the training he instructed Billy in using his mouth literally everywhere on the man's body ... sucking fingers and toes and nipples, licking his ears and feet and inner thighs.
Naturally, Master had instructed him exhaustively on the techniques of cocksucking. He had not rushed the process of teaching Billy to overcome his gag reflex... coaching him with patience, but leaving no doubt that the skill must be mastered. And he showed Billy little tricks that would serve to enhance the lust of any man for whom the boy would be required to provide oral service.
When Master had demonstrated those techniques, taking Billy's boyish erection into his mouth, the lad's pleasure had been indescribable. Master was an accomplished cocksucker in his own right, having begun at a young age turning tricks on the streets of Baltimore Town. And though it was unmanly in this culture for a free adult to suck another man, he was free to indulge his oral cravings on the cocks of young whores and of the slave-boys he bought and sold. More rarely, and much more discretely, he would get on his knees to take a man's erection into his mouth.
When Billy's stiff penis responded to the slaver's expert sucking by spitting a few pulses of thin, sweet boy-cum into the man's mouth, he had smacked his lips and complimented the boy.
And then there was the fucking.... As Billy thought back to it, it seemed as if had lasted for hours (though it was probably only 40 minutes out of the 2-hour lesson). They had changed positions a half-dozen times before the man finally shot his hot fluid deep inside Billy's ass. Thank God he had used oil, thought Billy, and had first used his fingers to loosen the clenched anal muscle.
Master had posed Billy in various postures, trying to determine his most alluring "ready position"... the position of a boy showing a man his willingness and readiness to be fucked. He had Billy lie on his side, with his left leg straight back and his head resting on his left forearm. The right leg was pulled up, and Billy was told how to run his free hand along his chest and butt and thigh... with special emphasis on caressing his buttocks seductively. And Master stressed the importance of Billy's facial expression, teaching him the kind of look that would arouse a man's lust, using terms such as "pouting lips" and "bedroom eyes". And when he told the boy to run the tip of his tongue sensuously around the outside of his mouth, the man was delighted with the total effect.
Master lubed his thick, virile cock and slowly entered Billy's ass from behind. While instructing the boy how to open his anal muscle, Master eased in slowly and steadily. When he finally began fucking with long, smooth strokes of an erection that seemed to be made of iron, Billy was relieved to find that his body was actually adapting to the uncomfortable intrusion.
Every so often they changed position, as Master demonstrated seemingly-endless variations. And through it all, Billy was reminded that his face and voice must exhibit pleasure while he was being fucked... even when he felt no such thing, and he had to play-act the emotion. So he moaned with counterfeit ecstacy, even though his anus burned uncomfortably, as he straddled the man's supine body and slammed himself down repeatedly on the big cock. And as Billy lay on his back with his legs pulled back to his shoulders, he sounded utterly convincing as his high treble voice begged for the man to fuck him harder and faster.
Finally, it had ended, and Billy was proud to receive his master's generous praise. With gentle kisses, the man covered the exhausted slave-boy with a blanket and bade him good-night.
It was morning now, and Billy had slept soundly. He finally stood up and looked out the porthole. The shore was several miles away, across dark water rippled by the breeze. They'd been sailing all night.... How far was he now from his home on the Choptank River? Billy tried not to think of home, because it was making tears come to his eyes. If he started crying, Master might get angry. So to distract himself, he began fondling his penis. Billy found that no matter what his emotional state, his dick could instantly rise to erection, eager for play. Youthful adolescent lust could overcome even the saddest thoughts.
Billy's hand began to move in the now-familiar motion of masturbation, and he closed his eyes as his brain drifted on the waves of growing pleasure. All too soon he felt the rising pressure of impending orgasm, and with considerable effort he managed to slow himself down and make it last. Billy's left hand cupped his balls and massaged them gently. His fantasies drifted to Martin... how he had kissed his friend's lips and licked at his tongue as they lay in each other's embrace... discovering the pleasure of sucking the black-skinned boy's cock... remembering the special feeling of Martin's slender cock penetrating him, sliding back and forth in Billy's bottom-hole. Billy felt his seed begin to rise up again. There was no holding back now... just a few more quick strokes....
"BOY!!"
The angry voice made Billy jump, and his hands flew away from his genitals.
"Listen here, slave. You NEVER shoot your cum without the consent of your master. Maybe I didn't tell you last night, so you'll not get punishment for the infraction this time. I KNOW I told you last night that your body belongs to your master. And I thought I made clear that a slave-boy of your age and with your looks is valued foremost for sex-work. You don't go takin' matters into your own hands unless your master wants you to. Master might tell you to stroke off if it pleases him to watch. Or he want to jack you himself... or taste your boy-juice like I did last night. Otherwise, you save it up. A horny cock gets hard quicker, and a slave-boy needs to get his cock stiff anytime Master tells him to strip naked. If you jack off, all by your lonesome, you're cheating your master... you're stealing what belongs to him. And stealing from your master is a VERY serious offense. Understand?
"Yes, Master... I'm SO sorry."
"Good.... You go up for auction today, and I want your cock to be stiff as an oak branch whenever a customer so much as glances at you. I expect to make a tidy profit off you, boy. I'm gonna have what they call a reserve on your price. If the bidding doesn't make it to 12 dollars, you don't sell. That's twice what I paid for you, plus the auction commission. If I don't sell you tomorrow, and YOU screwed up the sale in some way...." The man's voice drifted off, but Billy followed the man's eyes to the trunk that held the riding crop and whip.
"Master, I PROMISE I'll do EVERYTHING just the way you want!"
The merchant kept the stern expression on his face, but inside he was amused. Yes; the best motivator of slaves has always been fear of physical punishment. The lad seemed to respond quite well to it. All it had taken was a few open-hand spanks on his butt to fully break him last night! But the man again reminded himself that getting top dollar at auction would depend on the lad having an extra spark of enthusiasm that fear alone couldn't bring out. Using some kindness to mellow the underlying fear served to perk a boy up with gratitude, and it showed through on the auction block.
"I'm sure you'll do just fine, lad. I've grown to like you. You're bright enough, and you're as pretty a lad as I've ever owned. And you've got a talent for sex-work that'll serve you well. You might even get bought up by a rich aristocrat and live in his fine mansion. Whoever buys you won't waste you with hard labor. No plantation field work for you... no, sir. Or you might go to one of the high-class boy-houses in Norfolk or Williamsburg, where there'll be other pretty lads to play with, and you'll be fed and clothed like you was a rich-man's son.
Billy marveled at these descriptions... so different from his upbringing is a one-room shack, where food got scarce at times. And he was delighted to hear once again that he was "pretty", having been teased all his life about the homeliness of his pale skin, his sharp nose, and other whitey features. His face was radiant with a big smile, and the man playfully tousled his hair.
"Now, I need to teach you how to move and act when you're being seen by bidders... when they check you out before the auction starts, and when you get up on the auction block. To get top dollar, you need to be sexy and confident. Do you understand me?"
"I understand, Master. Sexy and confident." Billy wasn't really sure how to be sexy and confident, but he didn't want to sound stupid.
"Good boy! Alright; let me explain how it will be at the auction...."
The merchant proceeded to describe the big weekly slave auction held at Norfolk City... how potential bidders examined the merchandise beforehand in a holding area behind the auctioneer's arena. He reminded the boy that a slave had no claim to modesty... if the master wished for other men to see a slave naked, he instantly stripped and displayed his body... if Master allowed men to fondle him or use him sexually, he must serve the men the same as he were serving the master.
The merchant explained how most of the slaves at auction would be adults -- field-worker bucks or wenches destined for drudge-work. They were mostly convicts sentenced to a term of servitude (including some who were life-term slaves like Cicero). But they might even include men or women who had signed their own contracts of servitude to pay off debts or get money that would keep their families from starving. The younger ones would likely be subject to indenture contracts sold by their families.
The last slaves sold, at the end of the auction, were the ones that attracted the most audience interest, even among those not bidding. These were the sexiest girls and young wenches and the prettiest adolescent boys. Typically, the auction house paid for musicians to play during this part of the sale... allowing these slaves to show their physical attributes and allure in a manner appropriate to their likely future duties. Billy's master was confident of getting his slave-boy scheduled in this group.
"I'll need to put you in better clothing than your home-spun," said the merchant, and he dug around his trunk. He pulled out a shirt of good white cotton that buttoned down the front, and a pair of trousers that were clean and fairly new (unlike Billy's dirty and patched clothes). Both were the man's personal clothing and were way too big for the boy. But with the pants-legs rolled, the shirt-bottom tucked into the trousers, and the sleeves rolled up, he looked remarkably appealing.
"Here's what I want you to do to show yourself to the bidders... and to get those rich men to bid on you. Remember that sultry expression I showed you last night?..."
The man instructed the boy, and even performed the movements himself. It was amusing to see the burly merchant pretending to be a sexy boy, but Billy knew better than to giggle. After getting Billy to run through the routine a few times, the man was satisfied that he had it down.
"Now put on those clothes again, boy, and we'll go up on deck."
Billy and the merchant made their way outside and found the big schooner sailing nicely under a favorable northwesterly breeze. The half-dozen crew members didn't have much to do but stand ready to trim the sails if the captain ordered it. A number of passengers stood on deck as well, enjoying the pleasant weather and talking among themselves. Most were merchants, like Billy's master, and all were men. Not at all surprisingly, Billy was the only white-skinned person on deck.
Billy walked past a cabin-boy who stood at the edge of the deck, hands draped around some rigging, almost as if he were posing. The boy was about Billy's age and bare-chested, and he regarded Billy with a look that expressed a touch of arrogant superiority. Though Billy was still very dubious of his own attractiveness (despite Master's assertion that he was pretty) there was no doubt that the cabin boy fit the description of "pretty". Slightly taller than Billy, he had tawny skin the shade of coffee into which a dollop of milk had been added. His dark, wavy hair arranged itself in natural ringlets that framed a delicate face and button nose. His dark brown eyes were set off by remarkably long lashes that gave an almost-feminine look to the slender youth.
"Stay here, boy, while I talk to the Captain," the slave-merchant told Billy.
The slave-boy watched as his master strode to the aft-deck and greeted the gruff-looking captain of the ship. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but the merchant pointed to Billy during the conversation, and the captain studied the boy for a minute and nodded his head. When the merchant returned to his slave-boy, he was smiling.
"Captain says we'll be in Norfolk Town in plenty of time for the auction. And he said I could run you through your paces here on deck. Need to get you accustomed to a live audience, boy."
Billy had been fine with showing himself to his master down in the cabin, but now his natural shyness returned in a big way. His heart was beating fast, and he could feel his face blushing furiously.
"Don't make me disappointed in you, boy," said Master, seeing the distress on his slave's face. His eyes and stern expression made it unnecessary for him to elaborate. Then Master's face brightened, and he added: "If you do me proud, I'll have the ship's cook fix you up a good breakfast of bacon and eggs and sausage and fried potatoes when we get back to the cabin."
It was an easy choice -- either a whipping or a breakfast to fill his empty stomach. Billy swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and stepped up onto a big hatch-cover, with a look of confidence and sensuality, just the way he'd been instructed.
"Gentlemen!... Gather round!" called out the slaver in a booming voice. "Fellow merchants!... Crew members! The good Captain has consented to my giving you a preview of one of the prime commodities that will be available at this afternoon's big auction in Norfolk Town. This lad you see here is a country-boy, but he's as prime a whitey slave-boy as you're likely to run across. Gather round and see for yourself!"
There was genial conversation and laughter about this unexpected diversion, and the men -- and the cabin boy -- gathered around the hatch-cover, which was a raised area of the deck about eight feet square.
Just as Billy began to move in the dance he had been taught, the captain of the schooner called down from the aft-deck to one of the deck-hands. "LaMarr... how about some of your fiddle music so the slave-boy can show his stuff proper-like."
"Aye-aye, Capt'n."
Instead of going to get the instrument himself, the sailor sent the cabin boy, whose name was Juwan, scurrying below decks to get it. In a few moments, the man was tuning up his fiddle.
"Have you a song request, sir?" he asked the slave-merchant.
"Do you know the tune called 'The Saucy Wench'?"
"Aye! I know it well. It's one of the favorites when our young cabin boy entertains us in the evening hours." And he started playing the mid-tempo tune.
In a slow strip-tease dance, Billy began to move his body. He barely shifted his feet, but his hips moved in a seductive grinding motion, and his hands slid over his clothed body. His moves were naive and a bit awkward, but an undeniable sensuality shone through, and the onlookers murmured their approval. It was quite common for sailors and traveling men in this culture to avail themselves of the sexual charms of boys, and the men were attracted by what they saw in Billy's attempts to arouse their lust.
When Billy's fingers unbuckled his borrowed belt, the over-sized trousers fell in a heap at his feet. He stepped out of then and kicked them away. The large shirt came down to mid-thigh, and as he continued to dance in time to the music, he teased the audience by raising it up to give glimpses of his penis and his smooth, rounded ass cheeks.
Now the approving comments became more vocal, and Billy was becoming ever more comfortable. Though his movements still were not polished, he moved his hips with increasing self-assurance. 'Sexy and confident' were the words Master had used, and he now fully understood their meaning.
Undoing the shirt buttons slowly, while making eye-contact with a succession of on-lookers, he seemed to have the instincts of professional stripper. When Billy started rubbing his cock, still covered by the shirt, and pantomiming sexual pleasure, the crowd started calling out bawdy comments.
"The little whitey slave is HOT!"
"Take off that shirt, boy.... Let's see you nekkid!"
"Come on down to crew's quarters when the watch ends! We know how to treat a boy right... ain't that so, Juwan."
The pretty cabin boy seemed not at all offended by the remark, and struck a sexy pose of his own.
"Yeah, whitey; take it off! Let's see if you've got as pretty a boy-cock as our Juwan!" The sailor grabbed the cabin boy, and groped at Juwan's crotch, but the dusky-skinned lad just laughed and slithered away from the man.
Billy ignored the comments and concentrated instead on his dance. When he had shed his shirt and tossed it aside, he stood totally naked, except for the cloth-covered collar around his neck. His penis stood up in a plump 4-inch erection, crowned with a bright red cock-head, pointing straight up toward his belly. To shouts of approval, Billy's hands caressed his body -- from his chest to his inner thighs -- with increasing lewdness. He bent over to display his butt... fingers gliding around his ass cheeks and pulling them apart... then stood up straight, hands behind his head, and thrust his crotch forward... exhibiting his delightful penis and making his balls sway from side to side. Billy found, to his surprise, that this sort of obscene exhibitionism excited and energized him. Far from feeling shy and embarrassed, he actually enjoyed displaying himself as a shameless sex-object.
"Hey Juwan!" said a sailor. "You gonna let this whitey show you up like that? You always tell us how you's the sexiest boy on the Chesapeake Bay, right?"
"Yeah, Juwan," said another crew-member. "Show these gents what we get a piece of at night." As with cabin boys throughout history for as long as men have gone out on sailing ships, one of Juwan's functions on the schooner was to be the crew's whore. He was unashamed of his role as a boy-slut and proud of his considerable sex-appeal.
"Capt'n?... That OK with you?" he asked. The ship's captain smiled and nodded his head.
Juwan wore only a pair of bell-bottom trousers... tight at the hips and flaring wide below the knees. And when he stepped up onto the hatch-cover and began to move to the music, it was clear that he was far more experienced at such a show than Billy. As the slave-merchant watched with a big smile spreading across his face, his whitey slave-boy got an expert lesson in the art of sensuality. The merchant doubted that any dancing-girl in any port city on the Bay could raise a man's passions any hotter than this boy Juwan was doing. If Billy could do half as well as Juwan at the auction, there was no telling how much he'd sell for.
Billy watched with excitement too, and he tried to imitate Juwan's moves... with surprising success. Juwan slowly peeled down his trousers to reveal a stiff adolescent cock of exquisite proportions and appearance. It stood up 5 inches and had the very beginnings of a pubic bush -- a few dozen long hairs sprouting at the base of the penis.
With both boys naked and dancing, Juwan turned the temperature up another notch as he moved close to Billy and thrust his crotch forward, rubbing his boner against Billy's slightly smaller cock. Billy grinned as Juwan reached out... his hands wandering sensuously along the sides of the white boy's slender torso and hips. The two boys stared into each other's faces, and Billy's soul was captured by the dark beauty of Juwan's eyes. When Juwan stuck out his tongue and flicked it like a snake, Billy did likewise... and the boys playfully rubbed the tips of their extended tongues together, much to the pleasure of the crowd of men.
"Suck him off, Juwan!" called out a big sailor. "You're the best cocksucker EVER!"
The cabin boy's head whipped around, and he looked at the sailor with haughty scorn. "You want a free man like me suck a slave? And a whitey besides? Ha! Why don't YOU blow him, Shaquille?" A round of laughter rose from the group. "Or how 'bout HIM sucking ME off, instead?"
All eyes, including Billy's, flashed over to the slave-merchant. The man considered for a moment, then nodded his head. "Suck him, boy. Show these gents what you can do." The merchant knew that it was good practice... that bidders would be wanting to try out the boy's oral skills before the auction.
Billy wanted very much to please Master. His stomach had been growling, and the prospect of that big breakfast (and the avoidance of a whipping) would have been motivation enough. But he was also undeniably aroused by Juwan's beauty and incredible eroticism. And he was caught up in the excitement of how the crowd of men were reacting to him. The fact that these men would be watching as he fellated the cabin boy didn't even concern him. Since he'd boarded the ship, he'd done an incredible variety of things he'd never have imagined himself doing... and he'd gotten considerable praise in return. It looked as if this kind of unabashed sexuality was destined to be a major element of his new life... so if it was exciting and pleasurable besides, he might as well make the most of it.
With Juwan's hands pressing down on his shoulders, Billy knelt down... his face only inches from the brown-skinned boy's beautiful young-adolescent genitals. Billy's hand cupped the soft hairless ball-sack. His lips slid onto the cock-head, which was slightly-flared and stood out enticingly above the roll of foreskin. Billy's tongue swirled around the hot, silky glans and piss-slit as his lips pushed further down. Juwan's fingers entwined through Billy's fine blond hair and pulled his mouth onto the rigid shaft.
Billy was captivated... totally absorbed in the excitement of sucking Juwan's handsome cock. As if from far off, he heard the boisterous voices of the men who surrounded him, urging him on, but his mind didn't assimilate their words. He concentrated instead on the cabin boy's stiff penis. It was a much better fit in his mouth than Master's long, thick cock had been last night. With Master, oral service had been a job... difficult to perform, but rewarding to accomplish successfully. But with Juwan, it was pure sensual pleasure. This was only the third penis he had ever sucked, and it was much like his first time... with his friend Martin.
Not only did he enjoy sucking Juwan's cock, he knew intuitively that he was doing it well. He was remembering all of Master's instruction and using the techniques. Blocking out the men's voices around him, he listened only to Juwan's moans of pleasure. His hand on the cabin boy's flank could feel the muscles flex with the tension of building lust.
Though it had been to take Master's cock into his throat last night, Billy swallowed Juwan's adolescent erection with ease. With his lips pressing against the wisps of pubic hair, Billy twisted his head from side to side, intensely stimulating the cock-head that was lodged at the entrance to his throat. Then Billy began to move his lips and tongue quickly along the entire shaft, from head to base, over and over, letting the cock fuck his mouth. Juwan's hips bucked urgently, and he groaned out his lust, loudly announcing his impending orgasm.
Billy grasped the lower part of the shaft in his fist, and his mouth concentrated on the top 2 inches of the Juwan's cock, moving with incredible speed. In less than a minute, the dark- skinned boy orgasmed with a shout of total lust. Spurts of salty boy-cum erupted from Juwan's spasming cock, while Billy swallowed and kept on sucking up and down, driving the cabin boy wild with pleasure. Finally, Juwan could take no more and pushed Billy's head away.
"Agh!! My GOD but that was a good cum. Damn, white-boy... you're quite the cocksucker. Don't think I could do better myself.... DAMN!!"
Some of the men were thinking they could use some of what Billy had, and when the slave-boy looked around, he saw the trousers of several sailors and passengers being opened and stiff man-cocks coming out of them. Billy wondered if he'd be giving blow jobs to all of these men. But his master squelched the idea instantly, grabbing Billy by the elbow, pulling him to his feet, and handing the boy his clothing.
"My slave-boy will be at auction this afternoon. If you've the money, you may be the lucky gent who takes him home."
The ship's captain re-enforced the idea. "Alright; all hands back to your stations. Fun's over." And with a slight grin, he added "Cabin boy... you're out of uniform. Move it!"
"Aye-aye, Capt'n," came the reply, in a boyish voice that wobbled on the edge of it's impending change from treble to tenor.
Later...
The schooner had docked at the Norfolk wharf before noon, and the slave-merchant's meager belongings had been unloaded -- a wooden trunk, a small canvass tent, and two whitey slaves, both of whom would be up for sale at the auction that began in three hours time. Billy still wore the slaver's big white shirt and baggy trousers. He carried his own clothes tied in a bundle. Cicero was dressed only in rough and oft-patched trousers.
The auction building was quite near the harbor. The inside was well-lit by sky-lights and oil lamps, and the merchant knew his way around. The selling-room had a platform on which the a slave would stand as the bidding progressed, and the room could hold 50 bidders without over-crowding. Behind the selling-room were several rooms that served as waiting areas, where bidders could wander around to examine the merchandise more closely. These rooms contained numerous small cubicles, each measuring about 5 feet by 5 feet, each with a metal ring and chain that could secure a slave.
Cicero was padlocked and chained by his neck collar in a cubicle. Billy, however, stood at Master's side, like an obedient pet, while the man walked around greeting acquaintances.
"That's a prime whitey-boy you've got," said a fellow slave-trader. "He a lifer or an indentured slave?"
"Indentured, with 5 and half years to go. Broke him in completely without having to get rough, and he's got amazing potential in the personal services. Nice, eh?"
"Hmmm... Wouldn't mind trying out some of his services myself. But you really ought to get him bathed and dress him better if you want top dollar. Got any boy-clothes for him?"
"Afraid not.... You have any I could borrow?"
"Not me. I deal in wenches pretty much exclusive." The man looked at Billy and grinned. "I've seen boy-whores dressed up as girls, but I don't think you want to show him that way at auction.... Say; there's a clothing shop right down there on Mariner Street. And a bath house is only a couple doors up from it. You've got plenty of time before the bidders start showing up. Take the lad on down, and I'll keep an eye on that whitey buck you got chained-up over there."
"That's mighty nice of you, TayShawn. Thanks!"
Twenty minutes later, Billy walked out of the bath house feeling cleaner than any other time in his life. Not only had there been hot water, but a bar of sweet smelling soap made the accumulated grime on his body seem to melt away. His skin was whiter than ever, which made him cringe at first, but he made up his mind that he didn't care. The bath attendant was an old woman who scrubbed him with a rough cloth and with her hands, cackling with amusement when she slathered soap on his crotch and made his penis stiffen. Only after Master warned her sternly not to make the boy cum did she desist from her fondling.
Billy and the merchant walked only a short distance before they came to a small shop, with a sign above the door said "Orenthal's Fine Clothing". Smaller letters on the sign read "Specializing in Fine Antique and Reproduction Attire." A small paper in the window said "auction rentals available".
A bell tinkled as the slaver opened the door.
"Good day, sir. How may I serve you?" The store clerk's eyes went immediately to Billy, assessing his beauty and noting the slave- collar around his neck.
"I'd like to suit the boy up for this afternoon's sale. Figure I'll get higher bids if he's gussied up."
"Have you considered, sir, how you will be marketing him? You'll want a different look, I think, depending on who will be the likely buyer. You want one kind of clothing if you think he'll go as a concubine for an aristocrat... quite another appearance if he'll be staff in one of the houses." ("House" being a polite euphemism for a brothel.)
"I'm not rightly sure... I've never sold one of his quality here in Norfolk," said the slaver. "What kind of clothing would you recommend to appeal to an aristocrat?"
"Well, this time of year, the owners of the big plantations are moving to their winter houses here in the City or in Williamsburg. I've some good customers among that class of gentlemen. When they have a pretty concubine such as your lad here, they like to dress him up in the classic boy-styles of the Golden Age. I think I've got JUST the outfit to show the boy!" The clerk scurried around behind the counter, collecting articles of clothing. He arranged on the counter a white long-sleeve button-down shirt (somewhat like the one Billy was wearing, but in a boy's size), short trousers (VERY short!) of grey wool flannel with attached suspenders of the same material, a blue tie, black knee-socks, and a pair of leather shoes.
"What's the blue sash for?" asked the slave-merchant.
"It's a decorative item that the ancients wore, called a 'tie', and it goes around the neck with a special knot. See how it matches your boy's slave-collar? Let's get the lad dressed, and I'll affix it properly."
"Uh... how much for all of this?" asked the slaver.
"Let's see..." said the clerk as he jotted numbers on a scrap of paper. "They're all reproductions, of course, but very well-made, as you can plainly see. And the shoes are especially fine. It comes to 7 dollars, 5 and 2."
"Seven and a half dollars!!! For clothing? You think I'm made of money?... The sign outside said 'rentals'. How much to rent the outfit for the auction?"
"Rental... hmmm, yes.... Well these items are unused, sir, so the cost of first rental will be rather dear. It would be... hmmm... 3 dollars even. And I'd need the full sales price as a deposit. If any item becomes stained with... uh, you know... it's not returnable." (The clerk knew that slave-boys were sometimes splashed with semen when they were checked out by the potential bidders.)
The slave-merchant didn't even bother to haggle the price. It would be too high for him regardless. "Show me your recommendation for appealing to the buyer for a boy-house."
"Of course, sir. As you can imagine, something much more revealing would be in order. Last week I got in a rare find. Two packages of antique garments, bearing pictures and words, tightly sealed in real see-through!" (The technology to make plastic was non-existent in the year 2203, and clear plastic packaging seemed magical.) The clerk brought out a package of late-20th century underpants. "I sold one of the packages just yesterday... to the buying agent for a fine boy-house in Williamsburg. This second package was opened for his examination, but otherwise the garments are untouched since ancient times."
The packaging bore a photograph of two boys, around age 10. Each of the pictured lads wore the same small, tight garment around his loins. One boy faced forward and wore an undershirt that he was pulling up at the side to reveal a swath of skin. The second lad was shirtless and faced away, showing his barely-covered rear-end, with his head turned to the side, smiling at his friend. The package referred to the garments as "Fruit of the Loom.... 3 Boys' Briefs".
The slave-merchant examined the packaging and then examined a garment that the clerk had removed. It had a bright red waist- band and matching red piping around the tight leg holes. Two paintings of strange creatures decorated the front, which also had an ingenious slotted opening sewn into the soft white cloth. The back had a big word in garish lettering.
"What are these peculiar animals? And the word 'Pokemon'... What does it mean? I know the words 'Fruit of the Loom', of course, but the phrase makes no sense," said the slaver.
"I've heard that small trousers bearing such pictures were often worn by boys in the later years of the Golden Age. They are rather skimpy, so I think that they were not generally worn outdoors. The pictured animals are of course mythical... probably some sort of religious idols. I've no idea what 'Pokemon' or 'Fruit of the Loom' mean. The set that I sold yesterday contained the words 'Star Wars: Episode 1' and bore the picture of a robed, long-haired man holding a glowing scepter. My guess is that such garments might have been worn by an altar boy in one of the religions practiced by the ancients. They say that some of the sects that flourished during the Golden Age kept a cadre of young boys to serve the sexual needs of the high priests. But for your purposes, sir, such a unique and distinctive piece of antique clothing is guaranteed to catch the eye of every observer, and it shows a handsome boy's assets to the maximum degree... Try it on the lad."
The slave-merchant directed Billy to strip and put on the underpants, right in the middle of the shop. They were rather tight on him (size 8), and his genitals pressed firmly against the front, framed by pictures of Pikachu and Charmander, while the word 'Pokemon' stretched across his butt as if it were painted on his skin. They did indeed look very sexy on the boy, although the slaver wasn't sure he cared for the eccentric design.
"How much for the garment? Just one; not three."
"Well, seeing as how it's an antique in pristine condition... and with the unusual picture... and you're breaking up the set, I'd need 2 dollars if you buy or 1 dollar to rent."
The slaver winced. "For this little scrap of cloth? Have you a similar garment that's been used a few times? Perhaps one that lacks the excessive decoration?"
"Yes, sir, I believe I do." The clerk reached behind the counter and pulled out boys' bikini underpants with thin alternating horizontal strips of grey and black, size 12. There was no opening in the front, but they felt much softer than the Pokeman briefs. "They are antique as well, and still in good condition. One dollar to buy; 3 silvers to rent."
When Billy tried them on, they fit perfectly and were wondrously comfortable besides. The look pleased the slaver, and the rental price of 3 dimes was certainly manageable.
"I'll give you 2 and 5 for the rental."
"Two and 7."
"Deal.... How late are you open for me to return it?"
Later... back at the auction building....
A length of chain attached to the cubicle was padlocked to Billy's collar. The slave-boy stood passively, wearing only the bikini briefs, as potential bidders ran their hands over his body and engaged him in superficial conversations to test his intelligence and social skills. Nearly all of the customers pulled down his underpants to examine his sexual charms. He lost count of how many men fondled his penis to erection... how many told him to bend over and spread apart his ass-cheeks so they could probe a finger into his hole.
Nearly all of the men asked the slave-merchant if they could have a sampling of Billy's oral skills, but not all were granted such favors. Master had been in the business for over 10 years, and he was experienced at reading a man's potential as a buyer... from the way he was dressed, the questions he asked, the look in his eye. Billy got on his knees to pleasure at least a dozen... he didn't keep count. He knew what master expected, and he gave each customer his best effort. After the sixth or seventh cock in his mouth, the series of techniques that he was showing off had become almost routine and automatic. His jaw and tongue were tired, and his throat sore, but Billy did his best not to let it affect his performance or his show of enthusiasm.
Sometimes the customer pulled out after a brief period of sucking, not wanting to cum before he had tested the skills of other slaves that were up for auction. Other times, Master stepped in and said "I think that's enough... don't want to tire him out." With two men, however, both well-dressed, and each VERY interested in Billy, Master had allowed their sessions to continue until they spurted cum into Billy's mouth. Both times, after the customer had fastened his trousers and left, the slaver quietly praised Billy for how well he had performed.
At last, Billy's number was called out. He and his master moved into the selling-room and stood unobtrusively at the side, in the shadows, as the auction just prior to his was finishing up. He had waited in his cubicle for two hours during which the other slaves had been similarly brought out one-by-one to be sold. Cicero had gone an hour previously... to whom or where, Billy didn't know.
As Billy now watched from the side, a young woman of perhaps 17 years was being auctioned. A trio of musicians played... fiddle, guitar, and hand-drum... as the pretty girl moved her body in the timeless manner of one whose goal is to sexually arouse a man. A thin robe had been tossed in a heap at the edge of the block, and the girl danced naked. The auctioneer cajoled higher bids from the 30 or so men who stood in the semi-circle of progressively-stepped risers.
As Billy and his master stood together, Master gave some last minute instructions, making sure that Billy understood exactly what was required. He also fondled Billy's penis the entire time, so he would be hard from the first moment he stepped out. When the girl's auction ended and Billy's number was called out, he walked briskly from the shadows and stepped up onto the block... a raised platform of 5 feet square. Wearing only his striped briefs, his slave-collar, and a courageous smile, he began to move his body to the music as the auctioneer started his pitch.
"From the Choptank River, up the Bay on the Eastern Shore, comes this remarkably pretty young whitey. Only 12 years old. With 5 years, 6 months, and 17 days on his indenture. Would you believe, folks, that his indenture papers were issued only yesterday? Talk about a fresh young slave-boy! Bidding begins at 10 dollars, gents. Who'll give me 10? This isn't some barbarian whitey from the West, folks. This lad grew up in civilization, and he's eager to please. Do I hear 10? Yes! 10! Thank-you, sir... there in the first row. Do I hear 11?... Who bids 11 for this sexy boy... look at how he moves, gents! He's getting me hot just standing here next to him! The gentleman on the left side bids 11! Thank-you, sir. Who'll give me 12? Gentlemen, I was in back before the auction started and I got a sample of the lad's skills... that rosebud mouth of his is just remarkable!"
When Billy heard the bidding go over 12 dollars -- Master's minimum sale price -- adrenalin surged through him and all apprehension vanished. He was determined to make Master proud by getting the highest bid he possibly could. And as he gyrated on the platform, fingertips delicately caressing his body, everything seemed to come to him naturally. The movements of his body and hands served to highlight the beauty of his perfect boyish ass, which he wiggled at the audience as he bent over, and his appealingly androgynous torso. His hard little cock pushed out against the snug material of the skimpy underpants, and when he teasingly pulled them down in front -- tucking the waistband behind his balls -- murmurs of approval could be heard in the audience.
"I've got 15 over here. Do I hear 16 for this little charmer? Look at what he's got down there... have you ever seen a cuter body on a boy? Who'll give me 16?"
Sliding the briefs down to mid-thigh, Billy kept up his erotic movements... letting his 4-inch boner sway as he moved. When he glanced over at Master, still in the shadows, he saw that the man was smiling and making a signal with his hand. Billy understood. He stepped out of the underpants and artfully glided his body down onto the floor... getting into the "ready position" in which he was first fucked by Master... looking back over his shoulder at the bidders, his tongue moving languidly across his lips, his fingers spreading his ass-cheek to display his delicate pink anus.
"I've got 17... and 18 over here... and 19 dollars? Thank you, sir! We've got 19... how about 20? Who'll bid 20 dollars for the sexiest white boy you've ever seen?"
Billy kept an ear to the numbers, and when the bidding got above 20, he knew that Master wanted him to stand up and begin masturbating... to stroke his foreskin up and down with his thumb and first two fingers... thrusting his hips forward... pinching his hard little nipples with this left hand... turning his body every so often so that he could be viewed at different angles by all in the audience... scrunching his face in a look of sexual pleasure while his tongue continued licking sexily around his lips.
Actually, the expression on Billy's face took no acting skill, as the lust that was pent-up in his body took control of his senses.
"There's 23... who'll bid 24?"
Billy's hand jacked up and down, fast and with a jerky cadence, and moans rolled up from his throat and escaped his lips. His left hand reached behind him, and his fingers tickled his asshole. As the wave of pleasure rose up within him, Billy lost all awareness of where he was and who was watching him. When the wave of pleasure crested and crashed down in a surge of orgasmic spasms, his high-pitched voice whimpered in ecstacy.
"Going once... twice... SOLD to the gentleman from Williamsburg for 28 dollars!... Thank you all for the very spirited bidding on the whitey lad."
The auctioneer directed an assistant to wipe up the drops of cum from the auction block. Billy's master... Billy's FORMER master... hugged and kissed the slave-boy, then led him to the room where the transactions were formalized by the signing-over of papers.
From the shadows at the edge of the room -- where Billy had previously stood -- a girl stumbled toward the auction block as if she'd been shoved. Her tan skin was rather light for a brown person, and straight brown hair hung half-way down her back. She was a young adolescent... tall and rail-thin, but bordering on elegant in her lean stature and the beautiful shape of her face. She was naked, but for her collar, and she held her hands in front of her crotch. Puffy dark nipples pushed up from a nearly- flat chest.
"Now we have lot number 56, a very pretty girl 'bout the same age as that whitey boy we just sold. And she's naked as the day she was born, just the way you gents like to see 'em... Looks a bit shy, don't she.... Come on up, darlin'.... She's just beginning an indenture that has 5 years, 2 months, and 23 days to run. Comes from good farm-family stock on the Rappahannock River, so she probably knows all about cooking and cleaning and such. But ain't she a beauty, gentlemen! Come night-time, she'll show off her REAL talents. Let's start the bidding at 15 dollars for this light-skinned beauty. Do I hear 15? Anyone want to start us out? Come on, gentlemen... have you ever seen a finer looking young girl?"
[Whispered: "Take your hands away from your front, girl... and smile, damn you.... Shit! This slave ain't been broke in at all!"]
"Who'll bid 15? Do I hear 15? Ok. Let's start at 12 dollars. Do we have 12? Anyone? Yes! There in the back... thank you, sir! Do I hear 13? She may be a shy one, men, but that means you can break her in just exactly how you like. She's fresh off the farm.... Wouldn't surprise me if she's a virgin... or nearly so."
[Whispered: "Oh, for God's sake; don't start crying! Damnation! How can I sell you if you're bawlin' like that? OK; darlin'; settle down. Face away from the gents, and get down on your knees and elbows. Raise your ass up high, and wiggle it around. Show them what you've got down there."]
"Look at THAT, gentlemen! This girl is just beginning to blossom... think about how tight she is... and how much you'd like to have this slender beauty in your bed tonight. She's 12 years old, and she'll just keep getting more luscious as she ripens! Who'll bid 13 dollars?"
End of Part 2 [Write to me at bil47_new@yahoo.com]