THE BAZAAR
by Bill Smith (anonymous4371@juno.com)
Chapter 7
THE ORIGINS OF BILL'S NEWLY PURCHASED BLOND PLEASURE SLAVE
The two Williams brothers spent their days getting copper out of the ground now that they had the means of doing it. They spent their nights discovering just how nice it was to have a pleasure slave at your disposal.
Of the two brothers, Bill was the most curious. For example, he wouldn't rest until he found out exactly where his own pleasure slave, the magnificent blond he had bought at The Bazaar, had originally come from, and that curiosity extended over to his brother's pleasure slave, the handsome black, and even to the 100 or so black brutes bought solely for the work to be extracted from them over the coming years.
Neither of the two brothers were terribly inventive. They had simply named their two pleasure slaves the last two digits of their Bazaar auction numbers: 813456 and 813444. Hence Chad's beautiful brown pleasure slave was called #44 and Bill's purchase was called #56. Both brothers were astounded that even though The Bazaar had only been in operation several months before they visited, they had already sold 813,456 slaves by the time Bill bought his pleasure slave. The Bazaar had the practice of sequentially numbering their sales from the very first product despite what type of slave they were, although within each category (draft, pleasure, house, office, factory, etc.) they had a secondary number based on sequential sale within that category. Hence, Bill's pleasure slave was actually #813456-P1056 indicating that slave was the 813,456th slave sold at The Bazaar and the 1056th boy sold and specifically trained as a Pleasure Slave. The draft slaves they had bought only hours before had numbers running in the 812,500-812,600 range so sales volume at The Bazaar was clearly evident.
Over many nights, Bill had explored every aspect of #56's body. He had fingered every square inch of his smooth white hide and found no defects, no birthmarks, no moles - only a little stubble from his daily body shaves and a few scars on his back and rump where a mean slave whip had left its marks, no doubt from a zealous trainer somewhere along the line. His fingers had checked out #56's teeth and tits, his lips had explored all aspects of the slave's ears, face and nipples, and his prick had probed all aspects of the property's mouth, throat, and asshole. Those investigations had revealed the slave had tits as easy to arouse as his large prick, that his balls were usually full to overflowing and responded well to being massaged, that he could be milked to full output with just a few strokes of his usually firm erect penis, that the slave never seemed to object to fondling of his tits or sex organs no matter how rough or how long it continued or even who was doing it, that the slave remained tight and eager no matter how often he was fucked, that the slave could take even the largest dildo without excessive groaning and grimacing, and that the deeper you drove your prick into his ass, the more his ass muscles literally milked you in response. It was obvious #56's training in utilizing his body to bring his owner the utmost pleasure had been totally successful. Even better, the blond slave seemed to delight in being used, no matter what his master wanted. It was almost uncanny: #56 seemed to have the ability to read his owner's mind in what to do next to bring maximum pleasure and sexual satisfaction in the master's use of his body.
On the second night of fucking #56, Bill couldn't withhold his curiosity any longer and began a thorough questioning of the slave under him.
"Where were you born, 56?" Bill asked the slave who, at the moment, was accommodating taking his master's shaft all the way up his anal chute.
"Paraguay, master," the slave responded softly as he shuffled his body slightly to make it easier for his master to shove his prick even further into him. "In a small town called Puesto Estrella, master, near the Bolivian border." 56 shuddered as Bill's prick rubbed his prostate as it plumbed the slave's ass cavity. "Oh, master, thank you," the pleasure slave moaned in response.
"It's good for a slave to enjoy his duties," Bill said as he increased the tempo of his ass pounding. "But Paraguay? Down in South America? I thought you would be from Denmark or Norway or some Baltic country like Latvia what with your blond hair and blue eyes. Paraguay? How does a blue eyed blond boy get himself born in South America, slave?"
56 was breathing hard from the serious ass pounding he was receiving and his breath was a bit ragged as he struggled to tighten his ass muscles around the invading shaft, now well up inside him. "Yes,.... yes, master. I.... was ....born ... in Puesto Estrella.. My.... mother... was from Lithuania originally and her boyfriend .... my father... he was from Russia.... They ...oh, master, that feels so good....... They were immigrants to Paraguay looking for work and found jobs at an estatio they thought raised cattle near the Bolivian border... But, .... oh.... master... you want me to explain now while you're enjoying my body, master?"
"Why not, slave?" Bill answered, never stopping his steady rhythm of pumping the ass beneath him. "Keep those ass muscles tight, slave... that feels real good, and churn that ass around a little to I can feel all of you, slave."
"Yes, master," the slave responded as he instantly began twisting his ass around the inserted pole to increase his master's pleasure. "Master, the ranch was very remote - miles from anywhere - and it turned out that growing cattle was a sideline. The real business, master, was growing slaves. You see, master, it was mainly a stud farm for the production of slaves. My parents both took employment there - they were desperate for work and could care less what the farm produced - but one rule to keeping your job there was that you had to make sure no slaves ever escaped and that if any employee got pregnant, the offspring would just be added to the farm mix since they didn't want any employee burdened down with children while they worked there. You see, master, in Paraguay they would be deported if they didn't have employment, so they agreed to anything their employer wanted."
Bill reared his head back, arched his back and thrust into 56's ass as far as he could while he erupted a full load in five separate pulses until thick white cum was leaking out of 56's hole and running down his thighs in small riverlets. After getting his breath back, Bill slowly withdrew from his slave's ass whereupon 56 promptly cleaned it thoroughly with his mouth.
"Shall I continue my story while you rest, master, or did you want to fuck me again now?" 56 asked politely. "Or perhaps a leisurely sucking, my master?"
"I'll play with that big dick of yours while you continue the tale of your whereabouts, 56," Bill commanded, as his pleasure slave promptly assumed a position where his master would have the most convenient assess to his large erect prick and swollen balls, quivering in need from the recent heavy prostate stimulation and the fact he had not been given permission to ejaculate while being fucked.
"Yes, master," the slave replied as Bill reached down and started slowly stroking the huge shaft presented to him with one hand and massaging the slave's huge balls with the other hand. Assess was very easy to his slave's organs since the slave had been banded around his genitals while at The Bazaar to assure protrusiveness for a good display and to make the slave easy to fondle when desired. "Well, after a couple of years, my mother was pregnant as a result of her boyfriend fucking her every night and, as you know, master, in Catholic countries it is impossible to buy any form of birth control - even condoms are unknown in Paraguay, master. After she was pregnant, her boyfriend found another girlfriend among the employees and so my mother had to take me to the slave nursery after I was born in order to keep her job. After a week or so, she lost interest in me and I seldom saw her after that. They tell me she promptly got pregnant again with another male employee and died in childbirth of that second baby, although the baby lived and my brother, I guess you would call him, got added to the slave nursery also."
"I'm going to pump your cock, 56, but no cumming for a while. It's relaxing to just play with your dick now, and, besides, I find your little tale interesting - for a slave, that is," Bill said as he continued to slowly churn the slave's balls through the fingers of one hand and squeezed the slave's pulsing prick with the fingers of his other hand. "Keep those legs wide apart, 56," he ordered as the slave stretched his legs as wide apart as possible for his master's convenience in playing with him.
"Yes, master," the slave replied. "Would you like to play with my tits, master?" the slave invited, thrusting his chest out provocatively.
"Good idea, 56," Bill smiled as he moved one hand from the slave's balls and moved them to the slave's left tit, nicely swollen around the ring piercing it, and began kneading the tit as the slave moaned in response. "You were born to a free mother but raised like a product of the slave breeding farm?"
"Yes, master."
"Then technically you're not a slave after all?" Bill asked suspiciously. "I paid big money for you, I've got ownership papers all signed and notarized, and your ass sports The Bazaar's own slave brand."
"Oh, no, master. I'm a slave every way possible, master, and always will be, master. The Bazaar never sells questionable or disputed property, master. They make sure of that long before we're auctioned off, master. In my case, under Paraguayan law, a free birth placed in a slave nursery by their mother is a slave the minute the owner of the slave nursery takes responsibility for raising the newborn. Why else would anyone absorb the cost of raising an infant, if they couldn't sell them when they were of age, master? The lawmakers of Paraguay passed that law long ago - otherwise boys like me would just starve to death. No body is going to feed a child that isn't theirs - not in a poor country like Paraguay, master. When I was shipped to The Bazaar to be sold, the ownership papers were all in order and fully legal. I was the property of the breeding farm just as much as if they had bred me themselves down in the farm's rutting sheds. In fact, master, for most of my childhood, I thought Big Wolfgang, one of the farm's prize studs, was my sire. Everyone said I looked like him, probably because he was a slave imported from Germany who had blond hair and blue eyes himself and was kept might busy producing pups looking just like me. When I matured, I even seemed to have Wolfgang's big prick and balls, master, so I was convinced he had sired me, especially since the other studs were either Brazilian blacks or some big well-hung brown stallions they had bought in the Gambia. I never knew what my mother's boy friend looked like, but someone in the pens a lot older than me told me he looked something like Big Wolfgang and, even though he was free, fucked around just about as much as Big Wolfgang, who didn't have any choice in the matter and usually humped a wench four or five times a day down in the rutting shed, day in and day out. I know that for a fact, because I used to see them taking him down them by the leash fastened to his collar, always hard and dripping, his big balls swinging away as he was led down there, and always looking like he was ready to go the minute a wench was placed under him. Uh, master... I'm sorry, master,... my tit's a little sore from yesterday yet, master. But your slave is used to it, master, so pay no heed to my stupid outburst. If it bothers you, master, you could play with my other tit which isn't bleeding, master," 56 timorously suggested. "They're yours to play with, of course, master," 56 added in full acknowledgment that his master owned him entirely and if he enjoyed getting blood all over his fingers than who was a slave to object.
"Continue your tale, 56," Bill ordered as he wiped the blood off of his fingers in the slave's golden hair and then placed his fingers on the slave's other ringed tit as 56 had suggested and began pulling and twisting that well entrenched ring.
"Master, when we were four or five, we were taken out of the nursery and put into training - little jobs at first, master, like sorting coal or picking cotton or weeding the gardens - just any job where we learned to work from sunup to sundown and with a overseer and his whip over us. But by the time we were 10 or so, we were put to heavy work, like shoveling coal or planting and picking the crops. When we started our spurt into manhood a few years later, they sorted us out pretty carefully, master. Those who were turning into handsome men and whose manhood was promising to be real big, master and who had nice looking bodies were sorted out to be potential pleasure slaves if we took to our training well. Those not so pretty, but who were getting real muscular, went to the part of the farm where they trained draft slaves. The delicate ones who wouldn't hold up in the fields were routed over to the schools for office slaves, factory slaves, janitorial slaves, and that sort of thing. Of course, master, those were just general classifications until they saw how our bodies ended up when we stopped growing and how well we took to our training for various specialities."
"What do you mean, took to your training, slave?" Bill queried as he continued squeezing and stroking 56's huge shaft, now dripping considerable amounts of pre-cum.
"Master, in my program, if a slave wasn't very outgoing and didn't have much charm to him, but cooperated well enough and had a really nice-looking body with an exceptional prick and balls on him that was easy to arouse, they didn't just make him a draft slave right off. Instead, they put him into training as a brothel slave where personality didn't matter so much but you had to have lots of endurance. Brothel slaves still brought a premium price, usually, so the slave would be well treated, but he had to prove he had stamina and didn't mind being used sexually around the clock. Otherwise, he'd find himself being trained for the mines or a road construction crew before he even knew what happened."
"Did that work? The life of a brothel slave isn't easy, you know, 56," Bill said.
"No, master, it isn't generally. But early in our program, they took us down in the mines to see the fear-crazed whip-scarred slaves down there and then to a construction site that was manned with filthy slaves chained together by their neck collars under a heavy whip. When we saw with our own eyes all the tales we had heard were really true and then some, master, we headed back to our training programs with renewed energy. After that, master, not one slave raised even the slightest objection to anything asked of them - no matter what - and we made damn sure, master, we did what we were told to do with a big smile on our face and a willing attitude."
"That was a good strategy, 56," Bill chuckled. "Letting a slave know things can always get worse if a good lesson to learn."
"Yes, master. Taking the biggest dildo they make up your butt is nothing to having the shit beat out of you with the razor whips they use in the mines, master," 56 said soberly. "I didn't realize how lucky we pleasure slaves were until I saw the alternatives, master."
"Yeah, you good looking boys lucked out," Bill said. "Just don't ever forget it," he added as he squeezed 56's balls especially hard for emphasis.
"No master, I won't. Do you want me to continue telling you my story, master, or do you want me to shut up and just enjoy your property?" 56 asked in a very subservient tone that showed the upmost respect for his owner.
"Both," Bill chortled as he accelerated his stroking of 56's huge dripping shaft.
"We pleasure slaves were taught over many months everything we would need to know to prove satisfactory to a new owner. We learned to take even a 15 incher down our throat without choking, how to swallow a load no matter how big it is, how to massage a shaft thrust down our throat with our throat muscles and without gagging, how to fuck a mistress for as long as she likes without shooting off, how to milk a master's prick when it's all the way up our hole, how to pump a master off when he wants his slave to do all the work and we're on top riding up and down on his pole, how to stimulate a master's prostate when he wants us to fuck him without shooting off ourselves until he tells us to, how to get used to having our nipples played with for hours at a time, and how to exhibit ourselves fully hard and dripping on verbal command alone. It takes about three months to learn all the techniques a slave bought for the pleasure he can bring needs to know in order to justify his purchase price. Master, some slaves had never been put to a woman before training; others, despite being penned with men all the time, had never really explored all the things a master might want from a male slave's body. By the time training was over, they wasn't anything we hadn't experienced - even, master, having a dog fuck us or having us fuck a donkey. They told us you never know what a mistress or master might want for their amusement. That included, master, learning how to take a good beating or some body tortures if that was what a master or mistress found brought him or her pleasure."
"Sounds like a good training program," Bill said. "A pleasure slave should, at the very least, be prepared for whatever might bring an owner pleasure. That's why they're usually called pleasure slaves instead of the old-fashioned term sex slave, although that's what you do most of the time, I'm sure - provide an appropriate sex outlet for your owner."
"Tell me, 56, if you were a free man and could buy a slave, would you use that slave to at least offer you sexual relief?"
56 looked puzzled for a moment and then, realizing the question was purely hypothetical, quickly answered. "Of course, master, Every slave, not just sex slaves, get used for sex. Those mine slaves are screwed regularly by their overseers; the construction slaves are fucked all the time by their supervisors, house slaves are used by practically everyone that walks by, office slaves spend more time on their backs than walking around doing errands, and even the dray slaves hitched to the wagons are fucked in place by the people they deliver to. Even slaves not sold yet are fucked in the pens by other slaves the minute a handler's back is turned. If you're a slave, master, you're going to get used sexually, and every slave knows that the minute a collar is locked around his neck. Goes with the territory," 56 said with a huge smile on his face. "It's just we pleasure slaves are better at it," he giggled as he thrust his huge organ even further into his master's hand.
"When you got shipped to The Bazaar for sale, did they train you even more?" Bill asked.
"In my case, it wasn't necessary, master. They test everyone out in every area you can imagine and, if you pass all their tests with flying colors, they start preparing your body for the auction block. If you slip up a bit on any of the tests, they shunt you off to their training school right there on the grounds and, it's my understanding, master, within two weeks they can teach a slave how to totally address his weak areas to the point where he's fully competent and then it's off to market for the merchandise. Master, one of the boys from the breeding farm in Paraguay didn't perform well in the test for fucking a mistress to her exact specifications. They whisked him off for special training and within a week he could please any female owner, no matter how long she wanted to be fucked or exactly how she wanted to be fucked. It was a good thing, master, because he was sold off to a very demanding mistress, I understand, who wanted her new slave to fuck her and her three sons as well as all her friends who came to party everyday. At those parties, she liked to see him fucked by her other studs as well as suck them off. On top of all that, master, he told me, when I saw him a few days later after his sale, she milked him first thing every morning in that she thought drinking down a good load of fresh cum would help retain her youthful looks. So, master, it was a good thing he had that extra training."
"A lot of slaves get milked for their cum these days," Bill said. "Most of my friends are into it - sort of a hot new craze in the eternal search for youth," he laughed.
"Yes, master, you can milk me anytime you want, master if you want to see if it helps," 56 said with no qualms. "They told me at the training school in Paraguay my cum is quite tasty, master, but you, of course, could find that out for yourself anytime you wished. It's yours for the taking, master, as you are well aware."
"Well, my brother Chad is drinking a glass of hot cum every day from his bed buck," Bill laughed. "Let's see if it does anything for him before I begin draining those big balls of yours regularly. Chad tells me milking a slave regularly makes their balls grow bigger over time. Did they say anything about that in your training program, 56?"
"Yes, master. They said your balls swell gradually when you're milked regularly, but, as I remember, they said it's not too noticeable unless your owner starts milking you four or five times a day and gets a full load out of you each time."
"Well, a cow's udder gets bigger the more you milk them, so I suppose the same is true of most animals," Bill said.
"Master.... master..... I'm going to shoot.... if you don't stop stroking me, master."
"Well, I could order you not to, of course, but I tired of playing around with you anyway. Get on your hands and knees. I'll fuck you one more time and, if you're good at taking the fucking, I'll let you shoot off while I'm fucking you since you filled me in on your background so well."
With that, Bill let loose of 56's throbbing prick, the slave quickly flipped over on his hands and knees with his hole easily accessible, and his master quickly inserted his large penis all the way up the slave's hole without any preliminaries. He then pumped vigorously and deeply until he felt, once again, a full load working its way up his prick to full discharge into the slave's ass. 56 took advantage of his master's permission to shoot off at last, and did so, copiously and continuously right onto the ground beneath him while his master once again filled his ass with hot frothy cum. Within two minutes, Bill collapsed onto the back of his slave and the slave holding his weight relished the feeling of balls freshly emptied.
A minute after that, 56 had cleaned off his master's prick, now fully withdrawn from the slave's hole. As soon as that was completed to his master's satisfaction, he stooped down and began licking up off the floor his own spent cum, still thick and steaming, before someone slipped on it or it stained the floor's finish.
A few minutes later, Bill was sound asleep. 56 went to the adjoining bathroom, flushed himself out thoroughly by administering three enemas in a row and then showered, shaved his face and body, rubbed a coating of fresh oil onto his body, and, finally, put fresh lube up his ass. Prepared for the next morning, he retired to a pallet at the foot of his master's bed, curled into a ball, and fell fast sleep but with one ear cocked for his master's call at any time.
If not summoned during the night, 56 knew his master would awake with a need to alleviate his morning hard-on with a good sucking followed by help with his morning bathing and, possibly, after that, a good plowing of the slave's ass. But each morning was a little different. Perhaps tomorrow, Master Bill might want a good dollop of fresh hot cum as a morning tonic. If so, 56 was ready to deliver the new breakfast item if so desired.
Comments always appreciated. Bill Smith (anonymous4371@juno.com)