HARBOUR MASTER, Part 19
By Pete Brown petebrownuk @ yahoo.com
Read all of Pete's stories at groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories
WARNING TO READERS: SOME READERS MAY FIND THE FORCED MATING SCENE REPULSIVE. Readers are reminded, though, that these unpleasant acts between males and females are sometimes necessary for the survival of the species. The ASPCS does allow these acts, as they know that some masters enjoy watching them, even though their guidelines suggest that slaves should normally be bred using artificial insemination techniques. ___________________________
I didn't want to drive all that far that day - frankly, after all the excitement and stress, I was as tired as a dog. So I pulled off the Interstate at a convenient small town just after noon, and checked in at a small, but clean-looking, motel.
"We don't have special facilities for slaves, sir", the young desk clerk told me.
"Is it OK for him to stay in my room, or do I have to leave him chained in the truck overnight?"
"Oh no, sir. Provided the slave's well behaved, he's allowed in his owner's room. It's just that we don't have special facilities for restraint, or whipping, and the only slave excretion facilities are a hole out the back."
It was quite good, actually - I think the young guy fancied me, and he gave me a big room with two double beds, although he told me that if the slave used the other bed I would be expected to pay a couple of dollars extra. "We have to have the sheets a slave has used specially laundered, sir", he explained, "As some of our guests don't like using facilities that have been used by slaves."
It shows that I was still not accustomed to thinking of myself as a slave owner, as I didn't like to tell the guy that Matt would of course be sleeping in the same bed as me to service my requirements overnight! Funny how these little social inhibitions can strike you, isn't it?
I also got from the clerk the address of the local slave dealer, and before I went to the room I drove there and pulled up outside. I saw Matt visibly start to shiver as I did this - surely he couldn't think I was going to sell him - if he'd any sense at all he'd know that I wouldn't dare risk having him speak, and having his story checked! Anything but the most cursory check of his tracker chip would show that he was not a 24 year old - it was only because the cops' scanner was "stand alone" that I'd managed earlier, and I certainly couldn't risk going somewhere more sophisticated where the scanner might be online to the national slave database.
Actually, though, it was amusing to see Matt so worried about his future, and I made him get out of the truck and come in with me. I honestly think he thought he was going to be sold, as when I met the owner I saw him giving Matt admiring glances, and he even ran his hands lightly over Matt's body as I watched.
"Nicely presented older slave you've got here", the dealer told me. "Not much call for older guys, so the price is not all that great. But if you're looking for a trade-in....."
It was almost like trying to sell a used car, I decided! "No, actually I want to buy some restraint materials - he's been giving me a lot of trouble, and I need a prod, some fetters, some new cuffs, and a few restraint chains.... Do you sell accessories, as well as slaves?"
"Oh yes, sir. We've got a small accessories boutique, as many of our owners, especially the new owners, find they need to have those little add-ons that make all the difference to the ownership and control of the slave.... Right this way....."
The guy was chatting on to me as I made my choices, and telling me how bad business was. "It's not that the demand isn't there", he told me, "But that we just can't get supply. The criminals have mostly given up, so there's just not the stock coming through the system."
"But I thought you said a few minutes ago that you couldn't give me much for this one ,as he's older.... Surely ANY slave's price is going up?"
I saw that I'd caught him out, and he just smiled at me. "Ah well, that's the second-hand slave business, sir!"
As I was paying for my stuff, the dealer stopped in mid transaction and asked if I wanted a deal. "What sort of a deal?"
"Look, before I put this stuff through the till and have to add the sales tax, how about we deal - you get all this stuff free, and I use the slave for stud and don't pay you."
"No, I haven't got time..."
"Aw, come on. It will only take a big buck like yours a few minutes to cover one of my mares - he does know how to stud women, doesn't he?"
"Yes - he had a kid before he was enslaved. It was only recently..."
"Well then, a few minutes, and you could be on your way.... All this stuff free."
"What's in it for you, though?"
"Well, the State has imposed a new tax on stud fees - on top of what I'd have to pay you, I'd have an additional 50 bucks 'slave breeding levy' if it all went through the books."
"You breed many?"
"Well no, I'm not sure the numbers stack up. If your buck covers my mare today, assuming it's successful, we don't get the pup for nine months. Then I've got sixteen years of feeding and stuff to pay for before he can go into a sale - OK, some of that I get back as from about seven or eight the slave can do light work around the place. But it's a long term investment I'm looking at - if prices hold up, it will make me a lot of money. But suppose there's a crash in the slave marked in say ten years time - I could be left with a lot of young kids eating their heads off and with no real prospect of selling them."
"But you think it's worth while, taking the risk?"
"Well, actually, I think there's a huge unsatisfied demand for slaves. And I can't see that demand going away. The supply has effectively dried up, so we've either got to breed them, or import them from other countries. And no other place in the world is going to send us their criminals and unemployed to be used as slaves, are they? Once they see how well slavery works, they'll introduce it for themselves. So no, I think breeding is the solution, and I'm going to get in ahead of the game."
"Your slave", he went on, "Obviously has good genes - nice muscles, big strong body generally. And I guess he might even be handsome, if you let him do his hair differently. A pup bred from him would be bound to have some of those characteristics, and good-looking stock always fetches premium prices. So do we have a deal?"
Even though I had most of the 16K left, I was concerned about conserving my cash, and these slave "accessories" didn't come cheap - I suppose that by the time you've spent big bucks on the slave, you're prepared to lash out a bit on the extras - just like guys who buy fancy sports cars are prepared to pay stupid prices for matching luggage, or for really expensive radios.
"OK, then - but I am in a bit of a hurry...."
He led us out the back, and in the holding area he really had very little stock - and I could see why he didn't want to breed from most of them! However there was a female slave, mid twenties, I guess, who I suppose I would have fucked if she'd offered herself to me at a party in my former life. The dealer opened her cage, and led her out, and we followed into the next room where there was a kind of leather-covered couch in the middle.
"Strip!", he commanded the girl, and she shrugged off the one-piece tunic she'd been wearing, to stand naked in front of us. As I said, if she'd offered herself to me.... And actually I was quite turned on: my dick stirred in my shorts.
"Would you rather fuck her, sir? Same deal - you get all the stuff free, and you won't have to pay for the sex."
"You mean you normally hire this girl out? Why do you need to bother with this stud stuff?"
"Simple, really. The kinds of guy who have to pay for sex with a woman are not the ones you'd necessarily want to breed from - fat, thin, weedy, tiny dicks, ugly, stupid.... What kind of man do you think we usually get in here to pay for an hour with a slave? No - I want to breed from big, handsome, virile stock, so that the pups will get a good price. So I have to find a stud slave - or, sir, the exceptional guy who comes in here and wants a bit of enjoyment for free..."
At one time I suppose I'd have leaped at the idea of a free fuck with a tolerably good looking woman, but I really wasn't interested now. But it did seem to be a good opportunity to continue with the humiliation and training of Matt, to emphasise his slave status.
"Well, thanks for the offer. But, you know, well... well... well I don't really go with women. I'm more of a guy's guy, and that's why I've got this big buck."
I was surprised at how difficult this actually was to say - it was the first time, I suppose, I'd ever openly expressed a preference for men.
"But your slave can fuck her?"
"Oh sure, as I said, he's fully experienced, and has proven ability - he's sired a son, and a pretty good looking one, too. It adds to the excitement, you know, to have a straight guy as a personal slave. I'm breaking him and training him myself, and he's almost at the point where he enjoys a dick now as much as the next guy. But I'm sure he hasn't forgotten the basics - I've been with a woman myself, and it's easy enough, after all, but it's just that I don't see the point, when there are so many guys around."
All of this rushed out of me, as if, once started, I didn't want to stop.
"Yes, sir. There are a lot of owners like you - that's why male slaves always fetch so much better prices than females. Not only can they work harder, but they're better for their master to relax with. Now...."
He ordered the girl to lie down on her back on the table, then turned to me and said "Are you going to uncuff him, or shall I assist?"
"I don't want to uncuff him, or to lose the gag - he's still not properly trained. So I guess it's 'assist'."
The dealer went over to Matt, who'd been standing there quietly whilst all this had been going on. Like me, he'd been excited by the sight of the naked woman, but unlike me he hadn't been able to hide his erect dick.
"OK, boy", the dealer said. "I know she's a good looking filly, and I can see you're excited. But easy does it, OK? There's plenty of time - I know your master's in a hurry, but a couple of extra minutes while you fuck properly isn't going to make all that much difference, and we don't want the girl damaged by a big thrusting stud like you on full heat, do we? So take it slowly, but fuck deep."
He took Steve's erect dick and led Matt over to the girl, just as I had used Matt's dick as a handle the day before. I could tell Matt hated it, not only because of the indignity of the dealer using his dick in this way, but because he was repulsed at the whole idea that he was going to be used as part of the dealer's breeding programme! He didn't hate it so much that he wasn't erect, though, and I could see a tiny ball of pre-cum hanging on the edge of his piss slit.
Matt tried to pull away, but with his hands cuffed and the dealer gripping his dick tightly he had no option but to follow the man across the room. I could see the dealer must have done this before, as he knew exactly what to do. He deftly guided Matt in-between the woman's legs, then with one hand reached down to open her slightly, and with the hand that was still on Steve' dick, he basically inserted Matt into her. I'd one been to an ornamental goat farm on a tour, and in the breeding shed the owner had done just the same thing to a billy who didn't start in straight away - the man had just got hold of its penis and inserted it, just as the dealer had with Steve's dick.
"Right, boy, get going!", he said.
Matt just stood there, and for a moment, I felt a bit sorry for him. But, hey, where was the problem really? He was, after all, a breeder, and here he was being given the ability to demonstrate his capabilities. I suppose his previous experience had always been in private, but he'd got to get used to the idea that he was now a slave, and if his owner wanted to watch him, that was my privilege.
The dealer seemed to have the measure of him, though, as he stood behind Matt, put his hand between Steve's legs and grasped his balls.
"Right, boy.... They said you knew what to do, but obviously you don't! Just pretend it's proper fucking, and go in and out.... And even if you don't want to, you're going to, as you'd better be guided by me..."
He started to pull and push Matt in and out, using his control over his balls to ensure compliance. He only had to do it for four of five strokes, though, before he let go and came and stood by me - we both watched as Matt was now fucking away properly.
"It often takes them like this the first time", the dealer explained. "I can tell he's seasoned at fucking, but some slaves don't take well to their first few stud experiences. But once you've got them started, their reflexes take over and, as we can see, this one's doing well!"
Indeed he was - it was a pleasure to watch Matt's big powerful thighs, his muscular ass, and his strong body as he pounded away. There's something really erotic, isn't there, about watching a really good looking guy fuck? Somehow it seems to use all the muscles, all the energy he has - somewhere deep in the brain there's something that makes a man really work when he's fucking, and something else in men's brains that makes the sight of it a real turn-on.
We could have stood there all day, but suddenly Matt's legs straightened, he almost stood completely upright, and his back arched backwards. I could hear him making a long, low inarticulate sound through his gag, and I knew he must have cum.
He stood there like that for a moment of so, then stepped back - his dick was still half-hard, and was shining in the lights, as it was covered in her juices and his own cum.
"I'll get a cloth and clean him up a bit", the dealer said, as he was taking the girl by the arm and leading her towards the door. "Just wait there."
He came back with a cloth, but I told him only to clean Matt superficially as I wanted him to have the smell of the woman around him for the rest of the day, to remind him what he'd lost when he lost his freedom.
"So that's it, is it?", I asked.
"Well, for you, yes. Thanks for doing business. I hope your training of that slave with the new stuff goes well - he's a powerful buck, and I'm not sure I'd trust him uncuffed or unrestrained, without a lot more basic education."
"Oh, I can handle that. No, I meant that's it as far as covering the woman went - my slave can believe he's going to have fathered a pup in nine months?"
"If only it were as simple as that, sir. Human breeding just isn't like that, unfortunately. I believe she's in the fertile period, so with a big load of sperm pumped by your slave, and if he's fertile - although that falls off with age, as you know - there's a good chance. But I'll try to get her covered two or three more times today and tomorrow - that not only increases my chances of getting a pup, but it means that if I use a local slave, he can't go around believing that the pups he sees are his: they might be, and they might not be. We find it's best always to use multiple sires, for that reason alone."
"But it's all so risky", he went on. "Even if your slave's swimmers all do make it and fertilise her, I can have bad luck and a girl gets implanted, rather than a boy. Then we have to start all over again."
"Uh?"
"Well, I've told you that it's men who are needed most as slaves - they can work harder, and they're better for sex: they have all the advantages, really. Prices of good bucks are at least 50% higher than fillies of the same age. So as soon as a mare is showing signs of pregnancy we have her tested, and if it's a girl, we have her aborted so we can start breeding again."
We left the dealer then, and again I let Matt ride up front with me as it was a hot day. I caught that special smell of a woman coming from him as his body got hotter in the heat of the day - indeed, I kept the air conditioning off so that Matt really started to sweat - as I said, I wanted him to be constantly reminded of his experience, and to know that it was now me who was in control of how he used his dick.
Back at the motel we went into the room - I only had the small bag with a few changes of T shirts and shorts, as you know, so unpacking took almost no time.
"Right, Matt, we can do this two ways - either you can agree to be reasonable, in which case I'll undo your cuffs, take out your gag, and just chain you lightly to the bed to make sure you don't run away. Or you can be obstinate, and I'll leave you as you are. But I remember that when I was your slave, having my arms held up like that for a long time ultimately made me very cramped. So the choice is yours - what do you want to do? Shall I give you a bit more freedom, in exchange for your promise of good behaviour?"
Matt nodded, so I got a two metre restraint chain that I'd bought from the dealer, clipped one end to the eye that had been conveniently provided by the side of the bed, set firmly into the underlying concrete, and cuffed the other end around his ankle. I undid his gag and took it out, and at once I saw Matt starting to work his jaw in the way that I had when I was first released - you just can't imagine how tired it makes your jaw muscles when you can't move them at all for long periods. Then I undid the cuffs holding his hands to his collar, but I decided to leave the collar itself in place - not only would it be easier to re-cuff him if I needed to, but making him wear a slave collar was another sign to him of his servitude.
And, actually, I thought the steel collar around his thick, muscular neck added a certain something - but as I am a careful owner, I did reach up and feel around it to make sure it wasn't chafing unnecessarily - I didn't want the skin damaged. The contrast between the warm flesh and the cold steel was interesting to my fingers - I suppose you don't often feel around a man's collar, and there's a lot of interesting textures - the big muscles at the back, the softer skin at the sides, and then the Adam's apple - it was almost erotic, the way this bobbed up and down as Matt swallowed in nervous anticipation of what I might be planning to do.
"Right, Matt - you heard what they said at check-in: I don't want to pay extra for this room, so we're in the same bed - just like old times, except for a couple of changes of status! But I think we both stink a bit, and I'm dead tired - I'm going to sleep for a couple of hours, but first I'm going to shower.
Actually, I took a bath. I prefer showering, but I had Matt stand and watch me as I bathed - his restraint chain reached as the bathroom door was close to the bed - and half way through he saw me lift my dick and piss into the water. You often want to piss in the bath, and in swimming pools, don't you? Well, there's no reason not to, as piss is perfectly sterile, but I saw Matt looking concerned: he could probably guess what was going to happen next!
I stood up, and roughly dried myself on one of the big towels. "You next, Matt: hop in, and don't keep me waiting around."
"Please, Steve, please.... Might I shower?"
"No! You stink of woman. You need a proper bath to soak it out of you. I don't want that stink around me in bed. Now, get in. And I'm your owner now, remember? How do slaves refer to their owner?"
"Please, boss... Please let me shower."
"No, Matt. I know you like baths - remember those mornings when you always made me use your water? Surely there's not a problem with sharing another guy's bath water?"
"But boss, you've pissed in it...."
"So? What's wrong with your owner's piss, slave?" I deliberately emphasised the words "owner" and "slave", to make sure Matt got the idea. "Now, get in - you remember that amongst the things I bought at the dealers was a slave prod - shall I fetch it, and encourage you? Or are you going to obey me, and understand that it's me who now calls the shots around here?"
With a sort of resigned look, Matt stepped gingerly into the water, as if he was expecting it to be so acid that it would burn his foot off! The restraint chain trailed over the edge of the bath, but otherwise it was just as if two regular buddies were sharing a bathroom - there's something special, isn't there, about having wet, rather than sweaty, bodies in the close confinement and relatively sparse surroundings of a bathroom? Your body shows up so well against the tiles, and there's usually a big mirror so you get to see reflections of the two sets of asses, backs, chests, thighs... I find it's a real turn on, and having Matt there in front of me, but lower down as he was in the bath, just emphasised how much I now had: this body was mine, and I could do with it what I liked. I felt my dick starting to go hard, and the more I thought about it, the harder it got. It's a pity, actually, as I'd thought of pissing over Matt as he sat there - I'd got enough piss left in me, I think, but with the hard on, there was no way I could manage it
I was about to toss him the towel, when I realised his hair was still dry!
"Matt, stop fucking around. I want to get some sleep.
Wash your hair and your face quickly, and get out of there."
"Please, boss... Please, don't make me...."
I was completely pissed off now. He just didn't get it, did he? I strode out of the bathroom, feeling my hard dick bob up and down in front of me, and got the slave prod. It was the latest model, so it could be adjusted from "mild" to "stun", and I quickly twisted it to the mildest setting and strode back into the bathroom.
I only just touched the prod to Matt's wet, naked shoulder as he sat there, but it was enough to make his body convulse and he gave a great cry.
"Now, you fucking slave, when I give you an order, you obey it! I told you to wash your hair and your face.... Now, do it!"
I watched him as he took a sachet of shampoo, broke it open, and massaged it into his hair - he clearly hadn't adjusted to having his hair in a proper slave cut, as with it so short you don't need shampoo, and soap is perfectly OK. He reached down, cupped his hands, and sluiced water over his hair. Then he went to stand up.
"Look, Matt, I don't like hurting you! But are you deliberately intent on disobeying me? I told you to wash your face - it's all sweaty and I want you squeaky clean. Why is it so difficult to do as you're told?"
"Please, boss... Not on my face.... You pissed in the water...."
"And you should know, Matt, that there's nothing wrong with your owner's piss. Even if it wasn't totally diluted by the volume of bath water, if I chose to give it to you, you should take it gladly and willingly if I tell you to. Now, wash your fucking face! I won't tell you again, and I don't want to have to show you the effect of using this prod on a setting other than 'mildest', do I?"
Matt took the soap, and gingerly scrubbed it around his hands before rubbing them vigorously over his face. He tried to do his neck, too, but was a little impeded by the collar. Then he sluiced water over him again - perhaps he was learning!
"OK, Matt, stand up and dry yourself."
He stood up in front of me, water running over his muscled form, and I decided to reinforce his humiliation by again reaching out and rubbing my fingers over his waistline. "Still some work to do here, as I said", I told him.
He reached out for the clean towel on the rack above the bath, but I stopped him.
"No! That's for me, tomorrow morning. A slave uses his master's wet towel, remember, Matt, all those times when you threw me a sopping rag to 'dry' myself with - especially when Bill had used it, too?"
Just as I had had to, Matt stood there trying to dry himself with my already wet towel. You can of course remove the majority of the water, but there's just no way the skin gets "dry" - you end up feeling as if you still have a sweat on. Whilst Matt was doing this I stood there casually shaving - I could keep an eye on him in the mirror as I did so. After I'd finished my face, I was about to start on my balls when I thought "Why?"
I'd discovered I liked having shaved balls, as although it was annoying to have to keep them stubble free, they felt so much better when I fondled myself. But, on the other hand, I'd seen from the two cops that free men tended to have their balls hairy - who knows, I might have need of a further 'proof' of my free man status in the near future, so I thought I'd better let the hair grow back.
Even though I knew he wouldn't need it, as I'd only shaved his ass and balls the day before, I never the less reached out and felt Matt's scrotum carefully: I wanted him to know that I was considering whether to make him shave, or not, as it would be a further reinforcement of our respective roles.
"Just shave your face for now, Matt", I said. Even giving him this order gave me a tiny thrill - Matt no longer had the power to choose for himself whether to run a razor over his face. "I'm thinking about a bit of pleasure with you this afternoon, and I don't want to get stubble burn all over my ass - when your tongue goes up into my hole, I want to feel a nice smooth chin against my ass."
Actually, I didn't plan to get Matt to tongue me - yet. I remembered how devastating that had been when I was first made to do it, and I didn't think Matt was there in his training yet. But saying those words would get him worried, wouldn't they?
I realised at once I'd gone too far - Matt swivelled around and reached for the slave prod that I'd foolishly left on the bathroom shelf. I saw him start to move, but was too late to stop him. He stood there, pointing it at me.
"Right, Steve. Your little game is up! Get down on your knees."
"Now, Matt, don't be silly - I don't want to have you punished...."
"It's you who's going to be punished, Steve. Now I can speak, I'm going to call the slave police and tell them my story. Then when they get here ,they can verify the statistics associated with the tracker chip.... And then you're done for! It's straight off to the organ banks for you, you young fucker! Now, get down on your knees... You're a dangerous guy, and until I can find the keys for this cuff, I want you where I can see you."
I was desperate! What a fucking idiot I'd been to leave that thing lying around. I wondered what to do, but Matt looked menacing, and was moving towards me with the prod. I went to kneel, and saw Matt's body unconsciously relax slightly. But he was wrong - I'm fit and athletic, and even from a half-crouch I can throw myself around. I launched myself at Matt, and we both crashed to the floor - it hurt like hell, on the tiles, and there was a "crack" as Matt's body collided with the edge of the bath. It must have stunned him, as the slave prod shot out of his hand.
We fought then! We both knew that whoever managed to get the prod and use it would be the "owner", and the other would be the "slave", so this was almost like one of those ancient gladiator fights where both men in the arena are fighting for their lives. And, like the more depraved gladiator contests, we were both totally naked!
Don't try it, guys - it's really erotic to think about fighting another man in the nude for something that really matters, but the reality is that, whatever else happens to you, your dick and your balls get hurt! Either your opponent gets them, or they bang onto the floor as you wrestle, or both.
I think Matt was so desperate that he'd have done anything to win, and unlike the last time we fought I knew I was losing - he'd found new reserves of power or strength from somewhere, and gradually, slowly and inexorably, he was overpowering me: it got harder and harder to break out of his holds, and I never really succeeded in getting a good one on him.
He'd almost conquered me, and had even gasped "Soon, you little cunt! Soon! It's almost over for you. I'm going to really rape your ass one more time, then it's off to the organ banks."
As he became more triumphant, he became careless, and I saw one last opportunity. I managed to loop his restraint chain up over the wash basin, and with one leg half in the air, he suddenly was at a huge disadvantage. Unable to thrust properly with both legs, he was unable to fight me off when I mustered all my strength for one last throw at him. I sat astride him, knees pressing into his shoulders, and knew that he couldn't try to "scissor" me off with his legs, with one of them basically immobile.
As I knelt above him, I looked down at his face and knew he was having to look up at me. My dick was hovering above his head, and I remembered the last time when the two of us had been like this, only with the positions reversed!
"You're a fucking slave now, Matt, and don't you forget it!", I snarled at him. "Now, with all this excitement - my bladder's full again. Open your mouth, as I need to piss."
"Fuck you, Steve! I'm not your fucking slave... I....."
His words were cut off as my stream of piss hit him. He abruptly shut his mouth and turned his face away, but I didn't care. I chose not to force his mouth open, as he had mine, but contented myself with covering his face, his hair, and his shoulders with my golden stream.
"An owner can piss on his slave whenever he wants, Matt! Feel the hot warmth of your owner's piss filling your ears, pushing against your eyelids, and soaking your hair. Have you got the taste of my piss, Matt? Is it leaking in through those lips that you're trying to keep closed? Is it running up your nose, so you have the scent of me? Taste it, smell it, feel it, and remember that I'm in charge now."
Unfortunately I ran out of piss at that point - I think I would otherwise have grabbed his balls and made him swallow, but that could always come later, after all.
I knelt there, breathing hard, and feeling Matt's body underneath me. Somehow he seemed to be completely deflated - it was as if he'd had one last fling, and he knew he'd failed. I didn't think I'd have any other problems with him, but as I got to my feet I snatched up the prod, just in case!
"Right, Matt - get on your fucking feet, and clean up this mess! You don't want the maid to have to clean piss off the floor, do you? Get some of that toilet tissue and mop up most of it, then use the towel to clean the floor properly... And be quick about it."
I knew that making him crawl around the bathroom floor cleaning up my piss would be a further humiliation for him - there's something about a naked man crawling in front of you, isn't there? You can see the back and ass muscles working nicely, and there's the added interest in seeing his dick and balls swinging between his thighs as he moves along.
When he'd done, I told him to wash his face again, and I stood there watching him - some men don't like having others watch them doing intimate things like this, but it amused me to see how his dick swung from side to side as he scrubbed away, trying to get my piss scent off him.
"Right, Matt, now to bed! Do you remember how you wanted us to be buddies? Do you remember how you wanted us to be just like two ordinary guys together when we were alone? Well, I quite enjoyed that, and I'm prepared to give it another shot, if you are. But remember how you changed, from being 'buddies', to having me 'skinned, tattooed, and branded? You're on probation, shall we say: act like a proper buddy, and I'll treat you like one; but the moment you try to do something very unfriendly, like attempting to contact the slave police, I'll know that you don't really want to be buddies. And if you're not my buddy, just an ordinary slave... Well... I can't have you 'skinned, as I'm forty years too late. But I can have you branded, or I could find someone like the good doctor, to 'slice' you.... OK?"
Matt looked into my eyes, and I saw something like defeat there. "Yes.... Steve.... Boss."
I wasn't fooled, though. I suspected it was just a ploy, until he could make the truth known. What the hell was I going to do, long term? Still, I'd survived this long - and I was sure something would turn up.
I reached out for his body, and started to play with his dick as I thrust my tongue deep into his mouth. I decided not to fuck him, as I'd prefer his ass to really heal so that when I next took him it could be good and hard, without my having to be at all concerned about possible damage to him. Still, my tongue thrusting into him, and my hand gripping his dick tightly should at least remind him who was now in charge, at least for the time being!
End Of Part 19