FOUR THE SAME by Pete Brown petebrownuk @ yahoo.com
Read all of Pete's stories at groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories
Part Six
I don't know how I got through the rest of the evening. Although the Sheikh's conversation is always stimulating and interesting (and he is an important client and supporter of me, and I would anyway need to remain involved with what he was saying), the thought of the young skater or, should I say, the young skater's body) kept intruding into my brain. As I've told you, young lads like this do not interest me usually, but there was something different here: was it his capture and enslavement? Was it his forced stripping so that he had no choice but to appear naked in front of us? Or the caning, and the exciting marks it left on his body? Or perhaps it was a little more prosaic - I was in a state of high sexual excitement because of the four perfect specimens, and seeing the contrast between their tanned, completely hairless, muscular bodies and the lad's pale as yet to fully develop musculature, and his newly-grown pubic hair, made the whole experience somehow more erotic.
There was also the fact that his lad was now my slave, my very own property. I had of course never owned a slave before, never had that complete and total mastery over the body and the life of another man. It seemed at once faintly ridiculous, so out of line with my normal life experience, and yet at the same time so totally arousing: I could do whatever I wanted with this lad, could order him to perform sexually for me, could have him punished, and even castrated if I so chose. The more I thought about it the more I realised it was the ultimate in power - I thought I controlled things at the bank, making decisions that affected the financial well-being of millions, but now I had the reality of power, total and utter power, over the life and body of another man.
My host, ever the perfect gentleman, was sensitive to my thoughts and drew our evening to an early close, remarking that he could see that my mind was elsewhere for much of the time. From the way he said it, the twinkle in his eye, and that age-old gesture that one man makes to another when he knows his companion is off to fuck, I knew he was amused by my predicament and not upset by it.
Indeed, I did see a difficult dilemma looming in front of me. My whole body was ready for sex, hard, dominant, rough sex. I had been at full erection most of the evening ,and there was that ache in my penis and balls that you only get when you have denied them their legitimate release for several hours. The lad was a gift to me from my benefactor and most important client, the Sheikh, and I knew it was expected of me that I should make full use of him: anything else could be seen by the Sheikh as an insult. On the other hand the lad was only sixteen, much too young for my general sexual preferences. I did not fear the legal consequences of any action I might take, as here in his country it was the Sheikh who made and enforced the laws, and, anyway, even back in London it is no longer a crime to fuck a sixteen year old since the age of consent for men and women had been harmonised. So what should I do? The lad was clearly a virgin, and judging from his immoderate use of language, calling the Sheikh and me "perverts", probably had a warped attitude towards sex with men. You would have thought that a young man of sixteen would have been looking forward to sex, but I did not think that this was the case here. I was excited by the thought of taking a man's virginity, something I had never done before, but suspected that it might be difficult, especially with a partner who was as unwilling as this lad seemed to be.
Every nerve and sinew in my body was shrieking at me to take my pleasure from the lad, as it would be a uniquely erotic experience to fuck an unwilling virgin
slave, someone that I owned; but some calmer part of my brain was still trying to overcome a lifetime's inhibitions. As I thought on, I started to think about the lad himself - he must be scared, no, terrified, after being taken from the streets of London and brought here, made to strip, and then subjected to the harsh caning. If I didn't now acknowledge my ownership of him and treat him as my slave, what would become of him? The Sheikh would presumably take back his gift, and then the lad would become a general slave, and who knows what would then become of such as handsome young body? What was certain was that he was never going to be returned to London, as he had already seen and experienced too much already.
I can't pretend that this was an exhaustive rehearsal of all the factors affecting my decision, and it's probable that the strident demands of my body played a disproportionate part in my reaching my conclusion. Clearly, it seemed to me, the lad's best interests were going to be served by having me as his owner, rather than in entering the general pool of the Sheikh's slaves, and that both he and I needed to acknowledge this relationship in the traditional way: he must submit to my usage of him tonight as my fuck toy. I doubted that the lad would understand that I was concerned for his future, even were I to explain it to him. His hysterical attitude even to stripping in front of us - he had, after all, no need to be concerned or embarrassed, possessing as he did such a charming young man's body - presumably meant that he would vigorously resist his first real experience of proper sex (I didn't doubt that, even before sixteen, as a youth in East London he would have had many sexual adventures with silly young girls).
No, I could see now where my duty lay, and as I mounted the wide marble staircase towards my bedroom suite my body responded with renewed enthusiasm: my cock was simply aching as it strained for release from my underwear, and I experienced that wonderful feeling of knowing that all the palace servants and slaves that I passed would see the enormous bulge on the front of my conservatively cut business suit, and know that I was a man, a man on his way to do what every man needs to do.
In the bedroom the four identical slaves were waiting for me, all bowed down and salaaming to me as I entered the room. The young lad was just standing there, naked as they were, and in that way that some people do when they are nervous or slightly afraid, he had his genitals covered by his hands. Trying to do this means that you have to hunch your shoulders a little, and the slightly bowed stance he was therefore adopting made him look rather like a pathetic stray.
"Please....", he started as soon as he saw mw. "Please... Help me, get me out of here.... I don't know what's happened...."
"You were brought here to atone for your crimes, boy. You knocked me over in the street, remember? Then you stood there laughing at me and badmouthing me, rather than trying to help. My friend the Sheikh, who you just met, heard a bout this and decided that you needed punishment. That's why you're here...."
"But I didn't mean any harm by it. Please help me to get back to London..."
"I don't think that's going to happen. It may be possible to get a message to your parents, telling them not to worry about you as you have decided to travel around the world, or something. But as for physically going back, now that you've been brought here and stripped... Well, that's not really possible, is it? Think of what the papers would say if you told them..."
"No, I wouldn't, honest..."
"Look, boy, we simply can't take the risk of believing
you. You didn't behave well before, so why should you do so now. So let's just send the message to your parents, and stop them worrying. They will at least know you're alive. .... What's your name, anyway?"
"Darren.... But it's no good sending a message. No one cares. My mom died when I was eight, and my step-dad didn't care. I live with my aunt and uncle, and they're about to throw me out as I'm sixteen as they don't care for me either.... But I've got to get back... I can't stay here...."
"Well I'm afraid you don't have much choice, Darren. You see the Sheikh will never let you go. I'm afraid you'll be living here for the rest of your life, like these men...." I gestured at the four identical naked slaves, still kneeling there, their foreheads touching the ground, as I hadn't given them permission to rise from their salaam.
"So why don't you be a good lad", I went on, "And come over here and let me have a good look at you. The Sheikh has given you to me as a present, you k now..."
"You're mad.... You can't give people away. I'm not some sort of animal...."
"Oh yes you are, Darren! From the moment you were taken, your life as you knew it is over. The Sheikh exercises the ultimate in power: he has total and utter control over the slaves here in his palace. It's something that even the richest men in the world can't usually buy - although he is one of them - but here, in his kingdom, he has complete and utter control and authority. You saw how he had you brought here, and how he had you stripped. Look at these four men kneeling here in front of me - I'm told that not so long ago they were all free men, as you still think of yourself. And now look at them - naked, kneeling in humble obedience to me.... "
"No..."
"Yes, Darren. And the sooner you learn to accept it, the better. You've already felt a few strokes of the Sheikh's cane - that's one of the lightest physical punishments that can be ordered for you here. The Sheikh is not a cruel man, but he does insist on total and utter obedience from his slaves, and the sooner you understand - and accept - that, the better your life is going to be for you." Turning to the four identical slaves, I continued "Get up... and prepare a bath for me..."
The men scurried to obey, and I saw the young Darren looking at them as they glided around the room.
"See? Those four were free, just as you were . But the Sheikh wanted four clones, so his men scoured the globe to find these men with near-identical bodies.... Then they were exercised to perfection, shaved, oiled.... You can't tell them apart, can you?"
The boy didn't a answer me, but ran to the door of the chamber shouting "I'm fucking out of here, clothes or no clothes...."
One of the slaves casually reached out as the lad rushed past, and put his strong, bronzed arm around the young lad's waist, picked him up off the ground and carried him, arms and legs flailing futilely in a vain attempt to free himself from the man's grasp, back to hold him in front of me. The slave was grinning as his superior strength held the wriggling naked body against him, and I supposed that he was enjoying it - he was demonstrating to me the power and strength of his body, and at the same time having the naked flesh of the lithe youth constantly squirming against him could not have been unpleasant.
"Now, Darren, do you start to see what I mean? There is no escape for you. Now, are you going to start to behave, start to act like a slave, or..."
"Fuck you... Fuck you all..."
"Darren, I'm sorry for having to do this, but it's for your own good. You need to learn that you need to obey, and behave properly. You need to learn it now, before you do something really stupid and so annoy the Sheikh that he orders some very permanent punishment for you.... Now, I'll give you one last chance. If I order the slave to let you go, will you get down on your knees and touch your head to the floor as you saw them doing earlier? .... It's called making a 'salaam', and it's a sign of respect and obedience to your master...."
"No way! Fuck you!"
I really did feel sorry for Darren, that he was too stupid to see that his best course of action would have been to obey me. So I told the slave to take the lad over to the bed, put him across his knee, and spank him!
It was hugely erotic, and my straining erection simply couldn't get any firmer. I could almost feel the trickles of pre-cum oozing out of me and making my underclothes wet as I watched the slave obey my order.
The sight of the big, tough, muscled man with his deeply tanned skin carrying the young slim lad across the room was in it self a treat: the slave scooped Darren up off the floor and simply threw him over his shoulder. The contrast between the milky white skin of the boy and the deep tan of the slave was almost unbelievable, but to see the young lad so helpless as his body sprawled down the corded back of the slave made an unforgettable sight. The young lad's buttocks were on the shoulders of the slave, and I imagined how it must feel to have the lad's cock and balls pressing into the hard muscle of the slave.
My reverie was soon over, though, as the slave sat, almost primly, back bolt upright, on the edge of the huge bed and simply flipped the boy's body down and across his knees. Now I knew that the lad's cock must be in contact with the slave's, and I felt as if I might have an involuntary ejaculation as I watched the boy squirming and wriggling as he tried to escape from this humiliating position - a futile gesture, as the slave's big hand was holding him firmly in place by grasping his neck.
"How many strokes, master?" The slave asked me. He had a deep, manly voice, the whole timbre of which served to emphasise his raw masculinity.
"Four. Two on each buttock", I replied, almost laughing. It's not that I like inflicting pain on others, and, as I've told you, this really was in the lad's best interests. And, anyway, a few hard slaps to the buttocks might hurt the lad at the time, and might sting for an hour or so, but there wouldn't be any permanent damage to him - except to his pride! There was far more risk to him in continuing with his wild, undisciplined ways and then getting a severe caning, or perhaps even a whipping: both of those might mark him permanently. No, I could smile at his discomfort, and at the pleasure he was bringing to me, as his young, naked innocence was displayed so erotically for me.
The sound of the blows ricocheted around the room. Each time the slave raised his arm and brought it down there was that really satisfying "slap" sound as the palm of the hand strikes the firm flesh of the buttocks, followed by a shout from the boy. It wasn't a shout of pain, really, more one of outrage, and shock, and I started to laugh. I carried on laughing as the slave then stood up, tipping the lad to the floor at his feet. Darren looked up at me, and he had a look of mixd fear, rage and loathing on his face. He started to shout "You fucker, I'll..."
"Silence! Or shall I order the slave to give you for more, or perhaps even eight, or twelve?"
He went silent instantly. Perhaps he was beginning to learn the first elements of obedience. Or perhaps he had a bit of common sense. He continued to glare at me, though, and I said in a conversational voice "Stay there. You can't get out anyway, as there is a guard outside the door who would not allow you to leave. I'm going to have a bath now, as I've had a long, tiring day, and when I'm done, we'll continue your education. Don't say one more word, unless you want a further spanking...."
He seemed to comply, at least for the moment, and I told the slave to stay with him and to not let him do anything foolish. I then had a long, luxurious bath - "only" having three bath attendants was not a huge problem for me, and they were so skilled and expert. Their expertise and professionalism as they bathed me showed in that even though I continued to have a raging erection with my thoughts about what was going to happen to the boy, they did not do anything to make me cum. They did, of course, ask if I wanted to use any of them for sex, but when I indicated that I was "saving" myself for later, they used the utmost delicacy of touch to ensure that there was no "accident". One of them was in the huge bath with me and I sat between his legs, resting backwards against his naked body as he languorously soaped my chest and genitals , and the other two knelt beside us, shampooing my hair, gently lifting first one leg and then the other out of the water so that they could wash them, and so on.
There's something very special about having naked bodies next to you in water, isn't there? The slave behind me felt so delightfully slippery and warm, and as we lay there I also felt his erect penis between my thighs - I was kind of sitting in his lap, and the way that his solid, warm member was caressing the sensitive area around my anus and under my balls was totally exciting. I'm not one to take a man's penis normally, as I am, by nature, a dominant "top" during sex. But a little light stimulation like this was entirely agreeable.
I've told you that my preferred type of sexual partner is the big, solid, muscular "blue collar" type, and I'm often both excited and embarrassed when I am naked with a man like that: excited, as I am looking forward to a bout of intense sex, and embarrassed because of my body. Although I've always kept in reasonably in shape, and take care not to overeat and so on, I am sixty: there's no way that the body of a sixty year old can really bear comparison with that of a stud in his late twenties or thirties, and so I have learned to endure the somewhat pitying looks that sometimes cross the faces of the men I go with. But these three slaves, as they ministered to me in the bath, were different: it was as if they not only respected my body, but, in a way, worshipped it. There was not even the faintest idea that it might be anything less than perfect as far as they were concerned, and I began to understand how complete the Sheikh's training of his pleasure slaves must be. Young men like this, with perfect bodies, could be taught to revere another man's body which, in absolute terms, made a poor comparison with theirs. But because it belonged to a master, and they were slaves, they needed to show proper respect and consideration for it and treat I as if it was one of the most precious things in the world.
I strode confidently from the bathroom when the slaves had gently towelled me dry, not even bothering to put on a robe as I might normally do, so confident was I that these men respected me for what I was. My cock was bouncing up and down in front of me as I made my way across the huge room, its motion adding to my sense of excitement. I stopped in front of the fourth slave and the boy Darren, and stood there looking down at him.
As I'd been bathing I'd been wondering how I should proceed. There was no way that I could assist the lad to his freedom, so it seemed to me that the best thing I could do for him was to get him as quickly as possible into a state of ready and complete acceptance of his new role as a slave - my slave! I suppose I could have done this by a careful and prolonged programme of giving him orders, and punishing him physically when he refused to obey, or even hesitated, but I would not be there to oversee this operation Some quicker, more positive way of reinforcing his new status was needed for the lad, and so I had decided that I should take his virginity: . A boy who is "taken" by his master almost instantly learns something about power and control and dominance, and I perceived this was what young Darren needed to bring order to his life. My conscience troubled me for a few moments as I do not like breaking the law - well, as a banker, I need to respect the rules and restrictions that society imposes on us, don't I? Bankers are noted for their sobriety and probity, and forcibly taking a boy's virginity is not the sort of thing normally associated with them, and it would certainly cause a scandal if I was ever discovered and reported in our country's gutter press. However it wasn't really a crime: he was, by his own admission, over sixteen, and so sex with him was no longer forbidden. And, I suppose, he was , after all, my property! If a man cannot use his own property for his own pleasure in the privacy of his own bedroom, then what is the point of an elaborate system of "property rights" at all? No, what I planned to do was not illegal, and, the more I thought about it, there did not even seem to be any moral objection: the slave had been given to me, and, he needed training, and training fast, in his own best interests.
He was still lying there on the carpet, with the big slave standing over him. He looked up at me, and I knew he couldn't have failed to notice my erection as my cock as directly above him. A kind of sneer came across his face, and he went to speak.
"Say nothing, unless you'd like to be spanked again, Darren. Now, get up, and go and lie on the bed on your stomach - keep your feet on the ground, and just let that ass of yours hang over the end."
"No..."
"Do as I say! I don't want to have to have you punished, but I will. Now, get over onto the bed...."
I saw then that I had made the first step to breaking him. I am used to being in authority and when I issue orders my tone of voice changes subtly so that my staff always know when I am to be obeyed. Even though I was here, naked and erect, with the young lad and the big slave naked in front of me, and not in my normal office environment, there was no difference: I was in control, and my voice, as well as the words I was using, made that clear.
I watched as the slim, white, lithe body scrambled to its feet, then went, albeit somewhat reluctantly, to the bed.
The bed was covered with a shiny silk counterpane in a dark yellow colour, and his body made a nice contrast with it. I went and stood between his legs, and looked down at the slender form - I could see that he was going to be a real beauty when he was fully matured as the underlying musculature, although still not properly developed, was perfect: he had those wide shoulders tapering down to a slim waist, and a most pleasing rounded ass. He had long legs - always an asset on a man, I think, as it gives a young guy that look of a "colt", ready to race away.
He held his feet almost together and his ass was raised high in the air . I kicked his feet apart, and he grunted and half protested as I did so, so I gave him a quick slap across the ass. There's always something about spreading a man's legs with your feet, I think, and this occasion was no exception: it's one of the preliminaries to fucking, and so it's always imbued with a certain sense of expectancy. Gently punishing him for his small show of resistance only added to my excitement on this occasion.
I bent forward, put one hand on each of his buttocks - enticingly warm and glowing red from where he had been spanked - and putting my thumbs together into his ass crack, gently pushed his muscles apart.
"No...", he moaned, and I had to say "Silence.....", although I did it with a low, authoritative tone of voice, rather than a harsh command. I did not want to startle or scare the lad too much at this point as I knew he was going to find what was to come to be traumatic anyway, and did not want him to suffer unnecessarily.
Now his legs were spread and his cheeks apart I could see his hole - tender and pink against the milky whiteness of his skin, and neatly fringed with his raven black hair. From there, the hairs led to his ball sac, which was hanging low and obscuring the view of his penis which, I suppose, must have been pressed into the bed. The sac was covered in his wiry hair, and I decided that, like all the other slaves in the palace, having that shaved smooth would be a good idea, even though I would postpone a decision on what to do about the rest of his hair. Actually, I like to see a man with a good patch of hair around his pubes, and find body hair generally very erotic: it's one of the things that distinguishes being in bed with a man from being with a woman, isn't it? On the other hand, hair around the ass hole can make for very messy sex, and it's also much more difficult to really "grasp" a man's balls when they're covered in hair. Personally I wouldn't go as far as the sheikh in having the four slaves totally smooth all over - I understood, of course, why it had been done, and these men were still wildly erotically exciting to me - but they would have been simply irresistible had it been possible just to shave their holes and balls, and give the rest of their pubic hair just a neat trim and "tidy up" generally.
Still, the boy was as he was, at least for the time being, and I shuffled forward so that the tip of my cock made contact with the tender warmth of his body. He moaned another "No....", and I had to remind him again to remain silent. I could see all the muscles in his back tensing as I began to very gently run the tip of my cock up and down the silky warmth of his ass crack, still help apart by my thumbs, and every time I gently nudged at hi s hole, both of us seemed to know it was something special - he let out a low moan and moved his hips slightly against the silk bed cover, and I felt an almost electric thrill run up from my cock head to my brain.
Even after the long period of arousal that I had experienced I was still leaking - no, almost spurting - pre-cum, and gradually, as I carried on massaging the lad's ass, it became shiny and slimy with my fluid. Finally I rested the tip of my cock against his hole, and simply allowed my juices to run out.
I leaned forward and whispered - I always whisper at times like this, as it somehow seems to make the experience so much more intimate - "Have you enjoyed a man before, Darren? Have you and your friends played with each other, enjoyed the feeling of one hard cock against another?
His reply was half muffled by the counterpane as his face was half buried in it. "No! I'm not a fag! I don't do stuff like that.... It's disgusting... Let me go, pervert...!"
"Sssshhh.... Easy, Darren.... Now, just relax. This is your first time, and the first time can be painful, but you'll want to remember it. It's a very special experience when one man first has sex with another, and you ought to file this away in your brain. You'll no doubt have many, many more men use your body in your life, but I'm the first, and this is special..."
I'd wondered whether I ought to have massaged the delicate tissues of his anus to stretch and relax him first, as one normally does with any sex partner, but the thought of taking a virgin hole, one that had never experienced a cock, or even a finger, was simply one which I could not spoil. There was masses of my pre-cum now smeared all over my cock head and Darren's sphincter, and this would simply have to do. I leaned forward slightly, feeling the tip of my cock head starting to flatten as it nudged persistently at the crinkled flesh of the boy's hole, and he started to make murmurs of protest again, and to kind of wriggle his body more onto the bed, as if to escape me.
I reached down and put my hands around his waist, both to steady myself and to stop him moving, and the feeling of his firm flesh under my finger tips just added to the erotic sensations already threatening to totally overwhelm my brain. I pushed harder, the boy groaned, but could not move, and so I pushed harder still. It's a wonder that my cock did not bend in the middle, as it can so easily do if a there is some resistance to entry, but on this occasion I think I was so totally and completely turned on that there was no question of this happening. It was as if my cock had been turned into a solid shaft of steel, and I pushed again, this time more insistently.
I actually felt his sphincter opening, actually got the sensation of his hole dilating to allow the thick meaty head of my cock into him. He was groaning, almost whimpering, as infinitely slowly - and with commendable restraint, I think, given my state of arousal - I continued to push so gently into him. Then there that little sudden forward motion, that frisson of pure sensation that runs through you as a man's hole closes slightly after the flange of your cock head has gone through; now his muscles were gripping the shaft of my cock with moist, warm, eroticism.
I stood there, with just my cock head inside him, and after a few moments satisfaction from contemplating my breach of his defences, I started to gently, very gently, slide forward. The lad continued to groan and whimper as I did this, and I continued to press down on his waist, at the same time giving little "Ssshhh..." and "Easy....." noises, to help calm and reassure him. I carried on, until my thighs were hard up against the very warm flesh of his buttocks and my pubic hair was flattened against him.
There's no doubt about it - there is some special, additional pleasure that you get when you know you are the first. No other cock had ever been where mine was now. I was the first man to experience this lad, the first to feel his flesh in such totally intimate contact with mine. I've had lots of men during my life, but this is the first time I'd even taken a young man's virginity, and it felt good ; no, it felt marvellous. The tightness, the warmth, the "innocence" is perhaps the best way I can put it.... all combined to make this a truly memorable occasion.
I think I could probably have cum just from standing there and thinking about the sheer eroticism of the situation, but somehow I felt I owed it to Darren to give him the full experience. I know it sounds silly, as I should have been thinking only of myself, but somehow I wanted the lad to enjoy it too. It just shows that I'm getting a little sentimental in my later years; or, perhaps, I have not yet begun to fully think and behave as a slave owner!
So I started to pull out - very, very gently, as I did not want to hurt the lad unnecessarily, and to try to preserve myself from cumming for as long as possible.
Once my cock head felt as if it was about to pop out, I pushed back in gently again, and I could feel, and hear, Darren responding. His moaning was in synchronisation with my movements, and there were shivers of pleasure running through his muscles that conveyed themselves up my arms to me.
I'd have liked to fuck him long and hard - well, that's what I usually do to the big, husky types that I attract into my bed. They seem to appreciate having another man slamming into them with force, and it does tend to go on for a long time as, at my age, the "instant ejaculation" is a thing of the past! But both of these things were untrue this time - I wanted to be slow and gentle, but I didn't have much time to enjoy it! I could barely have pushed in and out of him six times when I felt that incredible sensation of starting to cum - my heart raced, my body arched, my balls contracted, and I stood there, buried in Darren's thin, white buttocks, as I pumped my seed up into him, where no man had ever gone before.
I fell forward onto him, my cock still buried up to its hilt, and pressed my body all along his, revelling in the moist heat from his smooth skin as I gently rubbed my hairy body against it. My face was right up beside his head, and I nuzzled the back of his neck, pushing aside his long skater's hair and revelling in that special man smell of fresh sweat. He seemed to be sobbing gently to himself, and I whispered right into his ear "There, that's all over now. You're a proper man now, Darren. You've had your first experience of real sex...."
"Bastard!", he kind of muttered. "It's not my first sex. I've been fucking my girlfriend for eighteen months..."
"I said your first experience of real sex, Darren. What you did with your girlfriends is just the prelude to breeding! What men do together like this is proper sex, sex just for the joy of two men being together, of using each others bodies."
"Fuck you... I'm not gay..."
"No, Darren. Not 'fuck me' - it's you who's going to get fucked, over and over again. You're my slave, remember? I own you. And I like sex with men. I usually fuck big strong men like these four slaves you see around you. But now I've experienced your virgin hole, you can be sure that this will not be the last time.... Come on.... Admit it, though, you liked it, didn't you...?"
"No! I like proper fucking...."
"Oh Darren, you can say what you like, but I can tell.
Your body betrayed you - those gasps and sighs as I ploughed in and out of you, the way you moved....."
I gently pulled myself out of him, stood up, and pushed him to one side. "Look", I went on, pointing to the bed, "There's the proof.... You were excited by it, and you've been leaking pre-cum all over the bed..."
I think I saw the boy blush slightly, but now something else attracted my attention: the pungent smell of the boy's shit on my dick, as I stood there.
"Clean us up!", I called to the four slaves, and one of the big men fell to his knees in front of me, put his hands around my ass to steady me, and went to start licking at my dick. So perfect was his training that he was quite prepared to worship my cock with his tongue, even though it was covered in another man's excrement.
"No! Get a cloth. The boy wasn't cleaned out first, and I don't want your mouth tasting of his shit in case I want to use it later in the night...."
The slave rose to his feet in a smooth gesture, and even as I spoke, one of his fellows, carrying a moist wash cloth from the bathroom, dropped down in his place and started to gently wipe me clean. As I stood there, enjoying the sensation of his ministrations, another of his companions was gently pushing the lad's buttocks apart and wiping him clean with another cloth.
I gestured to the slaves and they pulled the counterpane down for me, and I slipped between the smooth, cool pure linen sheets. Then I beckoned with my arm for Darren to join me.
"No...", he started to say, but he then noticed the look in my eyes, and thought better of it. He slipped into the bed and tried to keep his body away from mine, but I put my arm around him and pulled him towards me. A the same time I beckoned to one of the slaves, who got into the bed on the other side of him from me, and used his body to further nudge the lad towards me.
I put my arm around Darren's neck, so that his head was cradled against me, put my other arm around him in a gesture of comfort, and raised my thigh up between his legs so I could feel the warmth of his hole and his balls against me.
"There... That wasn't so bad, was it.... Your first proper sex. Now, is this the first time you've ever cuddled another man in bed?"
"Yes. I hate it. It's not right...."
"Darren, you've got to learn not to lie to me, your master! I can have any of these slaves spank you again, you know... Now, it's not that bad, is it? If you dislike it so much, why is your cock so hard?"
It was true - his cock was ramrod rigid, and squeezed up between us. I could feel its heat against my belly, and I reached down and gently teased the tip of it - his foreskin had retracted, I noted, and his cock head was already slimy with his pre-cum, pre-cum which was also slicking my belly.
I started to tease his cock, putting my palm over it and pressing it against my belly, and he tried to pull away, but the slave, pressed close to his back, prevented this. It was so erotic - the warmth of the smooth boy against me, the sensation of playing with his cock, and the knowledge that he was experiencing the muscled slave pressed up against him - this was almost certainly the first time the lad had been the filling in a "man sandwich!".
I felt so envious of him, to be introduced to sex in this way - I'd had to spend long months agonising about how to approach another guy, then worrying that I might not do the right thing once I'd made a date, then desperate to be seen to know what I was doing, even though I'd only read about it in books.... And here was Darren, handed it all on a plate! He'd had to do nothing, and I'd given him a fantastic first experience; and now here he was in that most enviable of positions, with two real men pressing in to either side of him.
He was wriggling slightly, and the hairs on my thigh thrilled as his balls gently scraped backwards and forwards over them, and I carried on teasing his cock head. The inevitable happened, of course, and his whole body stiffened as he moaned "No... No.....", and shot his cum all over me.
I pulled him even closer to me, and rubbed up and down so that his cum spread all over my pubes and belly, and all over him. That utterly delightful smell of cum, overlain with sweat, wafted up the bed towards us and assailed our nostrils.
"No...", he carried on moaning and tried to pull back from me, and I knew that I'd got one of those men whose cock is terribly sensitive after he's cum. I smiled at his slight discomfiture, but stopped fondling him, and we lay there, almost stuck together by the drying cum, feeling the beat of our hearts as we pressed close.
"There.... That wasn't so bad, was it....?"
I could see a faint smile on his face, even though he tried to look stern, or disgusted.
"There", I continued. "Now I've fucked you, and you've cum.... We could just go to sleep now, but I want to see how you react to another fucking....."
I pulled my thigh down from between his legs, and said to the slave who was pressed up against his back "Fuck him... On his side, and be gentle!"
End Of Part Six