The Bazaar

THE BAZAAR

by Bill Smith (anonymous4371@juno.com)

Chapter 8

CHAD'S PLEASURE SLAVE

Bill's curiosity as to his own pleasure slave's origins extended over to his brother Chad's sex slave, #44, as he was named now. After Chad had fully used 44's body for several nights, Bill suggested they trade slaves for a night since they shared everything else in their life. Chad eagerly accepted the proposition in that Bill's slave was a real looker if you were into blond boys and, according to Bill, was about as skilled as they came when it came to his sole purpose in life now - providing pleasure to his master.

It wasn't that Chad was in any way disappointed with his own choice of a handsome bed buck. 44's looks turned Chad on in that the slave had all the body attributes Chad most appreciated: a milky smooth brown skin, a handsome face with high cheek bones, large black eyes with long black eyelashes, thick black eyebrows, lips just made for sucking, and a thin nose which was large and prominent, almost Roman style. His body was shaved now, but there really wasn't much to shave outside of his armpits and genital area, and his tits, now ringed, were large atop prominent muscular pecs which matched his knotted ab muscles. Best of all, the slave had peach- sized balls and a thick, long circumcised black prick which had a nice smooth exterior not marred by prominent veins - the whole package prominently displayed due to the thick genital band fitted to the base of the slave's genitals. Hence, the slave's balls didn't hang down between his legs nor did they sway when he walked or get in the way when he sat down. Both 44's tall neck collar and his genital band were engraved; "Property of Williams Copper Mines - GPS Monitored with Reward Guaranteed;" the last phrase fairly standard in Australia where slave rustling was more common than people liked and offering a sizeable reward for stolen or runaway slaves generally got them back in your pens quick enough. Of course, since GPS monitors were now routinely embedded well into the innards of all of The Bazaar's slaves prior to sale, that problem was rapidly being eliminated - yet another advantage of buying stock from an auction house that knew what it was doing.

Chad actually smacked his lips when 56 was turned over to him for the night and a huge bulge showed in his trousers as he eyed the loaned slave's body. It was obvious 56 was going to earn his keep that particular night and 56 knew it the minute he glanced up to Master Chad's eyes and softly said, "How may I serve you, Master Chad?"

"Polite, isn't he?" Chad giggled to his brother. "It'll be fun to fuck a white for a change. Tell me, Bill, is he good with his mouth action?"

"Close to perfect, Chad," Bill laughed. "He could suck off an elephant without gagging," Bill added, "and make an elephant dance with delight in the process." 56 was neither humiliated or embarrassed at being discussed like this right in public. His training had extinguished such debilitating emotions long ago.

"I'll let you know about that in the morning," Chad promised as he hooked his leash to the genital band of 56 and led him upstairs to his own suite of rooms in the company headquarters which also served as the two brothers' home.

56 nodded farewell to his owner and smiled at the brother leading him by the leash to his balls. He made sure he kept close to Chad to avoid any pain to his balls but was already sporting a huge erection dripping with pre-cum.

Chad noticed this and announced, "Eager little bitch, aren't you, 56?"

"Yes, Master Chad," 56 smiled even broader with his blue eyes twinkling. "You won't be disappointed with this slaveboy, master," he added for good measure.

"You saying you're better than 44?" Chad challenged as they approached Chad's suite.

"No, Master Chad, all the pleasure slaves sold at The Bazaar are fully trained to satisfy even the most demanding masters, and I'm sure 44 is as good in pleasing as I am. It's just that certain types of bodies are more pleasing to some masters than to others. But, master, I'll bring you all the pleasure a blond boy with green eyes is capable of, let me assure you."

"You better," Chad warned as he opened his bedroom door, unhooked the leash, and motioned for the slave to get down on all fours with his legs spread wide for a good initial fucking. The minute 56 felt Master Chad's prick plunge into his hole and the pumping up his butt started, he had no rest until late the next morning. By then, he had sucked Chad off three times, been fucked by Chad four more times, had his tits kneaded until they were sore and swollen, and had his prick played with until it was chafed around the shaft. Never once had Master Chad let 56 have any relief himself, however, and 56 now had aching balls, a prick fully erect and constantly dripping, and a need for relief that was overwhelming.

"Master, may I cum?" 56 pleaded, now that Master Chad was exhausted.

"Naw, 56, a slave like you should be kept in need all the time. I may want to use you again later in the day."

"Yes, master," 56 said without emotion, but inwardly fearful he would ejaculate anyway and then there would certainly be hell to pay. 56 thought of everything he could to calm himself down and, eventually, it worked. His prick stopped pulsating and went down to half-mast, but he still dripped and did the rest of the day while his balls gave off a dull aching pain. 56 ignored the ache and the dripping as he knew he should and waited patiently for the time when he would be returned to Master Bill who didn't share his brother's views on this matter - once he was fully satisfied, of course.

44 found himself in Bill's bed bent over the edge of the bed for a first fucking the minute he arrived in Bill's own suite. The fucking was long and deep and 44 discovered his master's brother had an organ even bigger than his owner - a shaft that stretched you until you felt every aspect of it as it plunged in and out of your ass until, finally, he felt Master Bill shudder above him, plunge even deeper into his bowels, and then deliver his load in six successive spurts. 44 remembered to tighten his ass muscles as much as he could right at this point to enhance his user's pleasure and to make sure the entire load had been extracted into him. As soon as Master Bill withdrew from his chute, 44 quickly turned around and cleaned his master's shaft with his mouth.

After Master Bill was completely cleaned, 44 was ordered to promptly begin sucking his new master and, surprisingly, Master Bill was soon fully erect once again. After taking Master Bill's huge organ all the way down into his throat where the slave's throat muscles could massage the shaft rhythmically, the slave remained on his knees for a good 30 minutes breathing heavily through his nose since his mouth was completely blocked and struggling to suppress the gag reflect which still, to this day, occasionally tried to exhibit itself when a big one was wedged down his throat.

"Your trying to gag really feels good, 44," Master Bill complemented. "Sort of an added bonus to working your throat muscles - I feel a quick spasm now and then around my prick whenever I hear you gasp a little - a nice trick if I do say so myself. I'd ask you to explain where you learned that if your mouth wasn't stuffed full."

44 said nothing, of course. But after 35 minutes of this slurping and sucking, gasping and moaning, Master Bill erupted down the slave's throat directly into the stomach with a fresh new load of hot cum. He slowly slithered his large shaft out of 44's throat and left it in the slave's mouth for a moment as 44 carefully cleaned it off with his tongue, suctioning any remaining cum and his own gobs of saliva down into his stomach. With that, Bill threw himself onto a nearby sofa while 44 remained on his knees, his head turned downward submissively as far as his tall neck collar would allow.

"You can lie down on the floor and rest, 44, if you want while you digest that delicious meal I just gave you up both holes," pointing to the white cum that was now seeping out of his asshole and running down 44's upper thighs. "Nothing like a midnight snack to keep a slave well fed," he laughed.

"Yes, master. Thank you, master," 44 said promptly, glad to be able to get off of his aching knees.

"You like the taste of my cum, 44?" Master Bill asked.

"Yes, master, but I didn't get much to taste, master," 44 smiled. "Your prick was so far down my throat that most of it went right in my stomach so I couldn't savor it much."

"Well, next time, I'll give you a nice load to roll around in your mouth so you can appreciate the taste," Master Bill said. "56 claims it's delicious."

"Thank you, Master Bill. I'll appreciate that, master."

"44, while you're resting there on the floor, I want you to tell me about where you came from before we bought you at The Bazaar."

"Where I came from, Master Bill?" 44 replied, not used to a master being interested in anything about a slave other than what the slave was doing at that moment to please his owner.

"Yes, like where you were born and raised, when you became a slave, and how you ended up at The Bazaar," Bill prompted the pleasure slave. "Unlike my brother, I'm not a believer in slaves never getting to empty their own balls, so you can stroke yourself off while you're talking if you want. I'd like to see the quality and taste of your output anyway, 44."

A huge smile radiated across 44's face as his hand flew down to his swollen organ oozing pre-cum even now and began stroking it firmly but gently. "Oh, thank you, master, thank you. I haven't been allowed to empty my balls since the auction at The Bazaar, master. I'm afraid there's going to be plenty of it, master, and it will make a big mess on your carpet, master."

"Here, use this tray to collect it in," Bill ordered as he handed 44 a decorative crystal piece from the end table. "That way I can drink it down if it's any good."

"Yes, master. I hope you like it, master, even though it might be a bit tart. I learned in training a slave's cum gets a little strong after it's been stored in the balls for several weeks. They told us we deliver the best taste if we're milked daily, master."

"Well, we'll see just how true that is, 44," Bill laughed. "Besides, a little flavor might be interesting."

"Yes, master," 44 said as he continued stroking himself.

"Well, get on with your story, 44," Master Bill said with a note of irritation in his voice, "or perhaps you'd like to keep your juices stored up for another month or so."

"No master," 44 quickly replied. "I was born in Chad, master, just like my master's first name, about 17 or 18 summers ago the best I can figure it. No one kept track of it in that there were so many of us in the family. When I was sold off, I already had 11 brothers and 5 sisters, and I'm sure they are many more born since then. My mother was a light skinned women who died shortly after I was born and was the mother of just two of my sisters and one brother. She was my father's fourth wife, so most of us were half-brothers or half-sisters. I imagine my father has over 25 children by now, master, in that he believed a man should fuck his wife at least twice a day as a husband's proper duty, even up until they were about to birth. Since our thatched hut was small, we children slept around the edges while my father slept in the middle. That way, he said, all his children would know how to breed properly before they were married off.

"When it came time for our initiation rites into manhood, master, we were moved to the bachelor's hut on the edge of the village where we were taught how to hunt, fish, defend the village, and know all the rituals of our tribe by rote memory. Part of the initiation, master, was learning how to pleasure the elders as well as those training us, so I learned to suck cock and take it up the ass long before I was enslaved. At first, like many of the new initiates, I was clumsy and awkward in learning how to serve my betters and, at first, it hurt to get fucked, master, but like all the other boys in my class I soon learned all that was necessary and ended up knowing how to throw a spear accurately, how to fish successfully, how to bring down an elephant or lion with the help of other tribal members, and, of course, how to use my ass and mouth to bring pleasure to others when they wanted. They also showed us how to please a woman and how to make babies when put to stud, but my father had already taught me well by example so that part of my training wasn't really necessary.

"After that, I was viewed as a man instead of a child by all in my tribe and I enjoyed all the privileges that came with that status, master. I had even selected one of the girls to be my bride once I was able to save up her bride price. But her parents wouldn't let me fuck her until I paid the bride price and that would take several years of saving, so I lived with my parents and found what pleasure I could with the other bachelors who couldn't afford a women yet themselves."

44 continued stroking himself as his breathing became heavier and heavier and pre-cum now ran out of his prick in a steady stream. His balls were fully swollen by now and were actually churning a bit in excitation. "I'm getting close, Master Bill," 44 said as his stroking took on a new urgency. "I'm going to put the pretty dish close here so I can collect it properly like you want, master."

"Yes, yes, but only if you continue your tale, 44," Master Bill stated firmly.

"Yes, master. One day, some Arab merchants came to the village selling cloth, salt, brass trinkets, and some rare but very expensive near white female Persian slaves from far away. They sold their cloth and salt easily enough but no one could afford the slave concubines they were offering although all the men wanted one in that their color and voluptuous bodies were rarities in these parts. Most of the slaves owned in our village were black, mainly from the Central African countries south of us or from the Sudan. My father was particularly taken with one of the slave girls offered but couldn't begin to afford the asking price. When the Arab merchant suggested he trade two of his full grown sons for the slave girl, my father at first looked insulted but then thought it over. A father could, of course, sell his sons into slavery if he wanted. It was done all the time when famine struck or families got so large all could not be fed or even when there were too many troublesome successors to the tribal chiefdom. My father saw his family was too large to fed and that he had an excess of sons anyway, so that very night he had the merchant come in and shackle me and my older brother, some papers were signed, and the new Persian concubine was delivered to his bed. In the morning, my brother and I were allowed to say goodbye to our family and friends and were fastened to a long chain of other purchases they had made in my village and ones previously visited. The merchant never even stripped us to examine our manhood before buying us, but he could see we had nice muscular bodies, were in good health, had handsome faces, and that our loincloths bulged more than most. I suppose he thought he was getting such a good bargain it didn't matter what he sold us as - he would get a nice profit regardless.

"We were marched for a good two weeks. They were about 200 of us altogether once they kept adding more at each village we came to. They fed us each morning and each night, we were allowed to bathe in our chains in any river we came upon to get the shit and muck off of us, and at night we were all shackled together with a guard over us unless one of the Arabs or one of the whipmasters took a liking to our bodies during the day. In that case, we got fucked by at least one of them during the night and often spent time on our knees servicing them with our mouths. If we objected in any way, they whipped us until our backs were raw with fresh blood and stopped feeding us. After a good beating and a day's march without food or water, not one in my group raised any objections from then on, no matter what they wanted.

"A little hunger goes a long way in shaping a slave," Master Bill noted.

"Yes, master. As well as the whip, master. Those Arabs used a whip made out of rhino skin, master. It tears up your hide with the first stroke, master, and hurts more than I can describe, master. After that, master, even before feeling the hunger pangs, I decided to do anything they asked - nothing could hurt like what they were doing."

"Well, that was smart of you, 44. No use fighting what you can't change," Bill responded.

"A slave learns that fast, master, and the faster the better, Master Bill. Slaves don't have any other choices, master, and a slave needs to learn that real fast."

"Yes, 44, they don't have any choices. You're right there. Takes some slaves weeks to learn that simple fact, I understand," Bill said perplexed at some slaves' stubbornness.

"Master, master, I'm going to ... to.... shoot, master," 44 said grabbing the nearby dish hastily. "Oh...... oh.... thank you, master," 44 gasped as he steadily discharged a full half-cup of thick white cum into the crystal dish over a long series of spurts. 44 panted heavily as he recovered slowly from his orgasm.

"Quite a load, 44!" Bill exclaimed. "And just as thick as I hoped it would be. If Chad and I ever go into breeding slaves, you might make a suitable stud if there's plenty of good seed in all that." With that, he stuck his finger into the dish, raised it to his mouth and swirled it around a bit, and then smacked his lips as he swallowed it.

"That's not too strong for my taste, 44. In fact, it's quite yummy." With that, he took the dish and slowly poured the entire contents down his throat, savoring it his mouth before each swallow. "Very good, 44. Has Chad ever thought of milking you every morning for a nice breakfast treat?"

"No yet, Master Bill. Maybe you could suggest it to him, master?" 44 said, ever mindful it would be a nice way to get to empty his balls more than every two weeks or so.

"Oh, you conniving bastard. You're just looking for a way to get your master to allow you to get some relief now and then. You don't fool me, 44," Bill laughed. "Still, it'd be a tasty treat for him every morning if the flavor held with daily milkings. I'll at least suggest he try it out some day and see if he likes it as well as I do."

"Thank you, master," 44 said, just now getting back to normal breathing. "Shall I continue my story, Master Bill, or did you want to use my body again now?"

"Yes and no, slave. Continue your story and I'll probably fuck you again after you're finished."

"Yes, Master Bill. After a while, we ended up in the slave pens in Timbuktu which seemed to be not only a gathering place for the latest crop of new slaves, but a place where the breeders brought their yearly crops for sale. It seemed to be about half and half, master - about half of us in the pens were new to slavery; the other half were born into it and didn't know any different. You could tell one group from the other, master. The slaves from the breeding farms were bigger overall, were blacker than most of us, had very few whip scars on them, were more muscular than the majority of us, were noticeably more handsome in a very masculine sort of way, and almost to a man sported considerably bigger sex organs.

"I wasn't the only one noticing the differences. I overheard one of the slave handlers discussing the differences with another handler new to the slave trade. He said the bred slaves brought in were from a very old and well established breeding farm that had been in operation for several centuries by now. The current crop was claimed to be the 27th generation of bred merchandise and, over all that time of highly selective breeding, you pretty well produce what you want. By comparison, the handler added, we were just run of the mill stuff they gathered up along the way. He went on to say the highly bred slaves would bring three to four times at The Bazaar what the average lot of us would bring. Of course, then, I didn't know what The Bazaar was, but I did know I felt pretty bad knowing I was just a runt compared to these splendid beauties.

Then I really felt bad when the handler added in his discourse that the captured slaves most likely would be sold off for construction or factory work if they were lucky; the mines if they weren't. The bred slaves, on the other hand, would probably get pretty cushy jobs for a slave due to their handsome good looks and big equipment - some of them might be lucky enough to be sold into the brothels or even as a mistress' favorite stud.

"We were never penned with the bred slaves until we got to the Bazaar after another long trip, this time in the hold of an airplane - something I had never been in before and which I found very frightening that first time. We were shackled by our necks and jammed body to body into a back hold, while the bred slaves were all put into a front hold, but just as crowded as we were. You couldn't lie down or even sit we were so crowded, and just swayed around body to body the entire trip. By the time we got wherever they shipped us, we were covered in shit, were so thirsty we were practically crazy with need, and generally had cum and piss streaked all over our butts, stomachs and legs. Once we landed, we were whipped out of the hold and then they just hosed us down and later hosed down the stinking hold we had been in. The bred slaves in the other hold were in the same miserable state as we were, but I noticed they followed commands so well they seldom had a whip on them like we did.

"If was then we were given all the water we wanted to drink, told we could piss in place from now on, and then told we were at The Bazaar's intake area and we would soon be sorted, caged, and then fed. After that, we would be trained for whatever The Bazaar's staff decided we would best sell as, and, as soon as we were fully and successfully trained for our new life, would be put up for sale. After that, our new owner would decide where we would be shipped and exactly what he wanted us to do as his property.

"Everyone in my group came from villages and towns where slaves had been around since the dawn of time, so none of this came as a surprise to us, knowing we were no different now than the slaves we had seen around our home towns since we were small children. There, like the animals they were, most slaves were kept naked, were severely punished if they didn't obey exactly, were clearly identified by their collars and body brands, and generally worked all day long and fucked all night long by whoever owned them. We expected no different than that since we too were now just animals like they were.

"The bred slaves knew nothing but slavery, of course, and had no concept of deciding anything for themselves, determining what they would do, or envisioning any life without a master or mistress that they belonged to. So they didn't need to think back to the slaves they had witnessed in their childhood - they had seen nothing but other slaves since the day they were born to some anonymous brood and her specified stud. There was nothing for them to adjust to that was different."

"At the Bazaar, I was lucky enough to get sorted into a group of potential pleasure slaves due to the size of my manhood, the ease in arousing me sexually, and my good body and facial features, as they called it. About half of those chosen for training in this area didn't make it for one reason or another and were quickly shunted into the draft slave training programs most likely headed for assembly plants or construction firms. But I, along with about five others newly enslaved and a good 20 bred slaves graduated from our training program successfully and, shortly thereafter, were on the auction block being sold off one by one to interested buyers. I, Master Bill, was lucky enough to be bought by your brother, Master Chad. And so, master, here I am, waiting eagerly to get fucked again by my master's handsome brother," 44 smiled invitingly as he twisted his body around and got on his hands and knees to best expose his open hole. When he spread his legs, it was obvious he was fully hard once again displaying his body's arousal at the thought of being fucked if nothing else.

"Get your ass back on the floor, slave, and finish your tale. You skipped over most of your time at The Bazaar," Master Bill ordered.

"Yes, master," 44 replied quickly with a look of apprehension in his eyes. "Sorry, master. At The Bazaar, the first thing they did was body shave us, collar and band us, and then they branded us with The Bazaar's logo on our left ass cheek, master. That branding took many days to heal, master, but in the interim, they taught all of us how to give ourselves enemas until we ran clean, how to body shave ourselves and made us wear a stretcher plug up our butt every night and most of each day even though most of us, master, had been fucked plenty up the butt and down our throats before that."

"My brother and I will probably be branding you again on your right pec with the Williams Copper logo if we decide to keep you any time at all," Bill said casually. "You might have seen the brands on some of the mine slaves we bought the same time we bought you."

"Yes, master. They're still fresh and weeping, master, but clearly mark them as your property," 44 replied. "But, master, aren't you going to keep 56 and me?" the slave said in a panicked voice.

"We might sell you off if we can make a little profit on the deal," Bill said. "I haven't talked to Chad about it yet, but there's a market here in Australia for handsome young bucks like you - not too many slaves around yet that are fully trained pleasure providers like you two. Should get a decent price once people know you're available."

"Yes, master, but if I can improve my service in any way, let me know. 56 and I would like to keep serving our masters the best we know how," 44 added with tears running down his cheeks as he tried to control his sobbing.

"Jesus, what's the matter with you, 44? You're bound to have many masters before you're sent to the rendering plants. What difference does it make whether you get a new master now or later?"

"Yes, master. Sorry, master. It's just that I really enjoy servicing Master Chad and, of course, you, Master Bill."

"Well, slaves don't have likes,' 44. It's what their master wants that counts and if Master Chad decides to sell you, then, by God, you're sold and that's that."

"Yes, master," 44 tried to control his sobbing.

"Now that that's settled, get on with your story," Bill commanded.

"Those butt plugs got bigger every day, master, until we could take the biggest ones they had on hand - 15" long and 6" around, master. When you take that without too much howling and screaming and keep it in you while you walked around and then sat down on it, they stopped stretching you and we then got into the exercise program that was designed to develop our physique into the best it can be so we could attract the buyers, stretch our muscles so we were flexible in handling the demands our new masters would put upon us - you know, different positions, that sort of thing; develop our stamina so we could outlast whoever bought us, no matter how lusty they might be, and, finally, keep our ass muscles taut despite all the stretching they had gotten from the plugs. After a good week of heavy exercising and mastering the enema self- administrations, we learned how to keep ourselves lubricated all the time so we were always ready to go, how to get an erection just on command and without having to stroke ourselves to achieve a full dripping hard-on, and how to handle being fondled on all parts of our body by anyone wanting to examine us without flinching, shivering, or giving off any sign of resistance to having our bodies handled and stroked."

"That makes perfect sense for your intended purpose," Bill commented. "But, tell me, how did you learn to get a full erection without being handled?"

"It's easy, master, once you practice it. At first, they had us think of something that invariably aroused us while we were stroking ourselves or they stroked us. We did this over and over, each time they kept saying the word erect.' After a while, just the word erect' gets you hard. They called it conditioning' or something like that."

"It's certainly working now, 44. Just talking about it has made you hard and dripping again," Bill laughed.

"Yes, master. After that, we learned how to suck, using our trainers' cocks until we could take them all the way down without choking or gagging - that took about two weeks before we finally learned how to control our gag reflex so we could deep throat' a prick as they called it. Then they had we slaves practice on each other over and over, but never allowing us to shoot off so we were hard the entire practice time. Some of the other pleasure slaves were hung extremely well, master, so you learned how to take even the biggest pricks without too much fuss before too long. After that, we learned the special skills a good cock sucker needs to know - like suctioning properly, using your tongue to enhance the experience, massaging your user's balls to add to their pleasure, swallowing the full load without spilling any in the process, and how to withdraw your mouth before your user orgasms if they want a prolonged sucking experience.

"Next, we were fucked over and over by the trainers - all of them chosen for their long thick pricks that probed every aspect of your back cavity. They made certain they massaged your prostate while fucking you so you took a real interest in being fucked and found pleasure in it. But, just to make sure you associated being fucked with pleasure yourself, they often had one of the slaves get under us sucking for all they were worth while the trainers were pumping our asses above. The slaves under us sucking timed their efforts to that of the trainer's fucking us, so they drained us with their mouths at just the moment the trainers shot off inside our asses. Didn't take much of that, master, before we looked forward to being fucked - we associated being fucked with getting our own balls emptied and, master, if that is the only way you're allowed to empty your balls, you look forward to it, believe me, no matter how big a prick is worming its way up your backside. By the end of that training, master, not one of us didn't shoot off spontaneously at some point while we were being fucked, and no one, including ourselves, had to even touch our own organs to accomplish that.

"If they couldn't teach a boy to do all that and if he didn't have a willing eager attitude toward all of this, master, that slaveboy usually got shipped out for training in another area. As they said, who would want a pleasure slave who wasn't responding appropriately and whose body didn't show at all times he was enjoying servicing others. That was true even they had the biggest pricks you had ever seen on them and were handsome as slaves come. No, they got shipped out for training as a construction slave or a mining slave or something like that. Master, if I may be so forward, I saw one of your freshly branded mining slaves yesterday that was in the same training class I was in originally, but he seemingly never could learn how to get aroused himself when he was being fucked, no matter how much some other slave beneath him was sucking away. Just wasn't cut out to be a good pleasure slave, master, and now he's doing something he's better suited for probably. I hope he's a good mining slave for you, master."

"I don't give a shit whether a slave gets all excited being fucked or not. What's it to me that they're not getting their jollies out of being fucked? Doesn't mean they're not a good fuck anyway. I'll keep my eye out for him and maybe see how well he takes a a good fucking myself. When the mining slaves are being marched out to their work stations tomorrow morning, we'll watch the little procession and you point the slave out to me, 44."

"Yes, master. But I imagine you'll spot him yourself, Master Bill. He's huge between his legs, has a very muscular build, and is very handsome. And, unless things have changed, he'll probably be sporting a huge hard-on. He always was in the training program unless he was being fucked - that's where he couldn't keep it up."

"But the mining slaves are all full blacks," Master Bill said. "Was this washed out pleasure slave as black as most of the mining slaves?"

"Yes, master. He's as black as slaves get, master."

"Well, you've told me how you perfected your sucking and fucking skills. Anything else in your training program at The Bazaar?"

"Yes, master. We learned how to fuck a mistress or a master if that's what they wanted without ruining it for our user by shooting off in the process. That way we would be hard just as long as they wanted. We could fuck for hours on end once we mastered the control necessary for that, master."

"And how did you master that little trick, 44?" Master Bill asked.

"Oh, it was simple. If we shot off prematurely, we didn't get fed for three days straight and got ten lashes each of the next three nights as motivation toward learning better self-control. It didn't take long to learn how to slow down just at the right time and think about something other than sex while you were fucking so that you didn't shoot off before it was allowed. It only took one time on the no-food regime before I taught myself better control. After that, I could fuck all day and keep it hard the whole time, just like the mistresses demand, master. The masters that wanted to be fucked generally got off before we shot off anyway, so it was easier to please them. But the mistresses were demanding and our trainers emphasized we would be returned quickly for further training by almost any mistress that bought us if we couldn't control ourselves appropriately.

"The other area we were trained in was how to handle being milked frequently. That's where I learned about stored up cum getting a tart taste and that being milked daily led to the best taste and that regular milk studs had their balls grow some over time. But basically, we learned how to milk ourselves on command or to present ourselves properly when our owners wanted to milk us themselves. Some owners want to get the milk as fresh as they can, so we had to learn how to position ourselves to make it easy for them to suck us off and to make sure we delivered a full load right into their mouths. Other than that, the only other training we got was in how to treat a chafed prick, how to insert a medicated depository up our butt if we got torn by a particularly aggressive or an exceptionally large assfucker, and how to best treat the little scrapes and tears a pleasure slave gets on his hide when he's heavily used. Oh, and how to drink lots of water to make up for all the saliva you use up in sucking a master and all the cream you're producing if you're a milk stud. And learning that swallowing lots of cum really helped your complexion, helped in the production of your own cum, and insured you got all the protein your body needed over and above slave chow. But that last point, master, hardly needed to be taught. Slaves learn to crave cum in that it has a nice taste to it which you never experience if you're eating slave chow exclusively."

"Which is the case with most slaves," Master Bill said. "That way, an owner knows his slave is properly nourished at all times - besides, it's the cheapest way to feed a slave."

"Yes, master, but cum sure makes a nice flavor break!" 44 chuckled.

"Well, yours is mighty tasty, as no doubt you know, having licked it up off the floor numerous times," Bill added. "No wonder you're licking it up practically before I order you to."

"That's about all I have to say, master, about being trained, other than teaching us how to best display our bodies on the auction block to attract a good buyer, and to make sure we were hard and dripping before we mounted the block."

"Well, you found a buyer - my brother, and we even bought your older brother, as it turned out, as our gift to the general manager over at Australian Mining. He's the chap who first told us about The Bazaar. Someday, Chad and I will go over to Australian Mining for a little visit and see how he's enjoying that gift we gave him. Perhaps Chad will take you with him in which case you might be able to see your brother."

"That would be more than a slave could hope for, master," 44 said with a big smile. "But if it happened, I would love to see my brother again. I thought I had seen the last of him when you sent him to his new owner. But, if it's not possible to see him, I know my brother is serving his new master well and has undoubtedly settled into his new life with little difficulty, master."

"Why are you so sure, 44?" Master Bill asked.

"He's just like me, master, except older and more experienced, so there's no reason that he wouldn't, no matter what his new master wants from him."

"Well, you're right, 44. A well trained slave should have no difficulty no matter who he is sold to or what he is asked to do."

"I imagine my brother likes serving his new master, Master Bill. Long before he was a slave, he was always very interested in the pleasures of the body whether it be with a woman or a man - didn't matter to him. He's what the trainers at The Bazaar called a natural' for the pleasure slave category."

"Sounds like we made a good choice. I'm sure his new owner will enjoy him with that sort of positive attitude, although it is my understanding his new owner will keep him busy around the clock - he's sort of sex-driven himself from what I could tell."

"Then you chose your gift well, master, and I'm sure my brother is most happy being put to heavy usage. It's what he always wanted."

"Enough of your story, 44. Now's the time to get back on your hands and knees for a good fucking. I'm all charged up again."

44 instantly assumed the commanded position with his legs wide apart so his hole was visible and convenient. Within the minute, Master Bill was pumping away up the slave's ass with a big smile on his face. Yes, Chad had made a good choice with this brown slave. As good a choice as he had made with his blond slave. Perhaps they should brand the Williams Copper logo into their pecs before long. That would give them a nice feeling of belonging,' he reasoned.

Comments always appreciated. Thanks. Bill Smith (anonymous4371@juno.com)