The Voluptuary

THE VOLUPTUARY

By Bill Smith

CHAPTER 11

SERVICE AND PLEASURE

When Service and Pleasure had finished lapping up all the spent cum beneath the fucking bench, their overseer ordered them to the slave maintenance center to clean themselves inside and out and then report back for another usage by a party guest.

Both boys had been owned by Mr. Holgate for over a year now, having been purchased by him at the same auction. Before their last sale, they had been caged together in one of the dealer's holding pens and had been friends every since.

Both had been freeborn at one time. Service had been enslaved by the courts when he was 17 for dealing drugs; Pleasure had been seized by the Mafia when he was 15 when his father was unable to pay off a huge gambling debt and had put his son up for collateral.

Following his enslavement, Service was a graduate of his county's slave training center, a six-month program that produced slaves so compliant they were actually 'money- back guaranteed' for a year following their training. He was first sold to a middle-aged divorcee desirous of a very young bed buck at her ready disposal and good looking enough to show off to her friends at every opportunity. Service fitted the bill fine, being unusually heavy hung with lots of hormones raging through him, having a gorgeous body that would impress all her friends, and now trained to total obedience so discipline wasn't a problem. After two years in her bed and collar leashed stark nude out in public the rest of the time, his mistress bored of him and sold him to a gay friend actually younger than he was. Now he was the one getting fucked all the time instead of the other way around, but being displayed in public at the end of a leash didn't change one iota except now it was primarily men fondling his organs and stroking his tits instead of women. But, again, his novelty wore out two years later when his master spotted a black slave even heavier hung that turned him on ever more with his coal black hide and deep black eyes. The black was being marketed by a local dealer, so Service found himself traded in on the black, again caged in a holding cell. This time, even before the dealer's weekly auction, he was bought by a man in his sixties looking for a nice-looking boy to amuse himself with in the evenings and who could also keep the house clean, do the laundry, and do all the yard work. For his age, the man was surprisingly libidinous and Service found himself being fucked as much as when he was owned by the boy younger than himself. But he wasn't paraded around as a sexual display object and he actually enjoyed doing the household chores he was assigned during the day. Unfortunately, the old man had a fatal heart attack one night while fucking him, and his relatives, none of whom were into owning slaves that weren't clearly just draft animals, took him to a dealer the very next day as simply one of the estate's assets to be disposed of. It was in the holding pen of that dealer that he had met his friend Pleasure.

Pleasure's life prior to meeting Service hadn't been quite so mundane. When the Mafia took him to cover his dad's gambling losses, he was shipped to their own slave training facility in Miami where training was harsh, no nonsense, and, to those newly enslaved like Pleasure, brutal. Within a month, Pleasure was completely broken, trembling whenever anyone in authority even got near him, and actually quaking in fear when an trainer picked up a whip or fingered their electric prod. It took five more months before the Mafia trainers were completely confident in his training, however. By this time, he had complete control of his bodily responses (no more trembling or quaking unless commanded to do so), was compliant to any and all commands without hesitation, and actually welcomed sexual use of his body, whether it be by a master or mistress. His body had been molded by proper diet and exercise to perfection and he now displayed beautifully. Any embarrassment about displaying himself nude in public or having total strangers fondle him was long gone, probably never to return. The young slave had learned months ago shame, humiliation, and embarrassment were luxuries no slave could afford. Nor did he harbor any thoughts he would be anything but a slave, a purchased property, a bought animal, from now on. The Mafia was noted for its thorough lifelong training of slaves and Pleasure was a perfect example of how good they were in this area. All by itself, the Mafia's brand of ownership on his butt raised his value 30% he had been told by the dealer currently caging him. Such was their reputation in training their properties. When a local Mafia chieftain visited the dealer to look over some stock, he expressed interest in the young white boy. The dealer simply gave the boy to the chieftain in that he owned him some favors anyway. That don, his three sons, and his wife all used the new slave heavily. In fact, he was asked to do little (and didn't have time to anyway) but service them sexually. But this alone was a full-time job: on the average he got fucked about five times a day, fucked the old lady each morning and afternoon, and sucked their grandkids off inbetween, male and female. In addition, the old man liked his cocktail every afternoon which meant he had to milk a full load out of his balls into the man's glass of Tuscany wine every afternoon, while the old don watched carefully through semi-closed eyes at his panting, muscle-tensed slaveboy producing yet another batch of "boy cream" as the old man called it.

But all that changed about two years later when the don gave him to an associate out in California who had admired him on a visit to the don's Florida mansion. Pleasure was the cement that bonded a new drug deal the two had hatched up in shipping Florida drugs to California. Strangely, his new owner wasn't into using boys himself, but always needed new slave boys for a brothel he ran locally which catered to both men and women, and where the profits were enormous, rivaling those made in selling various drugs. Pleasure found himself housed in a large, pleasant facility that was designed around the business at hand - providing sex efficiently, quickly, and with wide choice for its customers. Pleasure proved to be a popular addition, much to the delight of his new owner, and was kept as busy as he had been back with the old don. The only difference, really, was this time he was used by a much wider assortment of people who were paying large fees for his use and expected full value for their hard earned money. But his owner was wise in use of slaves and limited their customer load so his slaves would satisfy the customers fully without wearing their bodies out prematurely. Pleasure found he generally got fucked about three times a day, had to suck off no more than five or so men and lick out one or two women, and usually only had to fuck one or two customers a day, usually women but occasionally a man into utilizing studs for their pleasure. Other than three hours of mandatory exercises a day in the brothel's well-equipped gym to keep his body in perfect shape, that's all he did, other than enjoy plenty of time for sleep and eating the prescribed foods, mainly slave chow, that his owner controlled to make sure he didn't get an ounce of fat on his beautiful body.

But that idyllic life ended when his owner send him to a local dealer for resale - he only kept boys in stock for a maximum of two years to ensure freshness for his customers. It was in that dealer's holding cells that he met Service, caged in the same pen with him. They hit it off right away and were placed back to back in the auction line. Fortunately, one of Mr. Holgate's agents, on the lookout for handsome well-hung whites in their early twenties, bought both of them and they had been in Mr. Holgate's slave pens ever since, 'entertaining' Mr. Holgate's guests under the constant supervision of one of his overseers who made sure they towed the line when it came to providing total and complete satisfaction to anyone wanting to use them.

THE VOLUPTUARY

By Bill Smith

CHAPTER 12

EXPLORING THE HOLGATE BACK ROOMS

Benjamin and Jeremy could barely hide their excitement as they inched past numerous other guests toward the doors leading to the "back rooms" the huge Asian by the gong had mentioned. They had no idea of what the words "unusual" and "exotic" meant to a true connoisseur of slave flesh such as Mr. Holgate. No sooner than they had entered the first "back room" than they got their answer.

On the right, chained in place atop pedestals about 18" off the ground, were some young male slaves of every color who were placed with their legs wide apart, their hands shackled behind their backs, their pelvises and chests thrust out provocatively, and with big smiles of invitation on their faces. What made them novel was the size of their sexual organs: each had huge balls hanging between their legs and penises so big around and so long (some hung clear down to their knees when flaccid) few guests knew such aberrations occurred in humans, slave or not. A slave handler, provided by Mr. Holgate, explained what we were witnessing.

"These slaves are extremely rare, hard to find at any price, and all share the unique trait of priapism, the medical term for a genetic trait which leads to gigantic sexual organs. They're nice to look at," the overseer chuckled, "but hardly practical. They're way too big to breed - they'd tear up any breeding wench you put them with; and too big to go up another slave's ass without killing that poor slave so they're no good for exhibitions; so about all you can use them for are as milk studs, a death sentence for some out-of-control rogue slave, or for exhibit like we have them here. Feel free to stroke and squeeze them any way you want - you're not likely to have that opportunity again outside this room - and, of course, you can milk one if you want. You'll find no objection on their part - being milked is about the only way they ever get off. Not a boy in the bunch has ever fucked another human, man or woman, free or slave. They're all virgins in that area as far as we know, although, I understand, a few of them have been ordered to cover a horse or a cow for the amusement of some previous owners.

Well, I take that back! One of them, according to what he tells us, fucked another male slave one time when his owner wanted to terminate some poor slave sentenced to a painful death for refusing an order from his mistress. But it was justified - the story goes that slave refused to stud one of his mistress' breeding slaves one day so you can't say his death wasn't warranted even though that breeding slave, it turns out, was his mother. The mother and son had been enslaved at the same time and bought by the same mistress at a local dealer in that she wanted a young stud and a wench with a few pups left in her. She didn't even know the two slaves knew each other, but, I can't see where that would make any difference anyway. Slaves should do what they're told and, once you're a slave, you don't have family anymore, no matter how you grew up. Everyone knows that! But the story ends up all right. Before he was terminated, the slave's sperm was extracted from him and injected into the breeding wench until she took. Nine months later she birthed a pup that was her son and grandson, you might say. Of course," the handler chuckled, "the pup wasn't anything but a slave so all that other stuff is just comical. Hell, if we traced some of these bred slaves bloodlines, no telling what interesting stories could emerge - fathers put to their daughters, brothers with their sisters, all sorts of things. Doesn't matter as long as the end product is sound and likely to bring top dollar. You can't get too fussy when you're selectively breeding toward a good product."

"Which one of you animals fucked another slave to death?" Jeremy asked the slaves they were looking at.

The slave with the biggest organ of all nodded his head.

"Why doesn't he just answer?" Jeremy asked the handler.

"Can't, master. He's been muted. Must have irritated some owner down the line with a bunch of silly babble."

"Searing slave's vocal chords isn't utilized enough in my opinion," the woman standing next to Jeremy said. "There's little need for a slave to talk anyway."

Jeremy tentatively reached out and stroked the mute's mammoth organ which quickly began to harden in his hand. It was so big as it lengthened in his hand it almost frightened Jeremy and he withdrew his hand when the thing started to drip on him. Indeed, it seemed like an animal unto itself, something divorced from the handsome slave it was attached to.

"I almost feel sorry for the animal," Benjamin said. "He's obviously a freak, sold as a freak, and can't fuck anything other than an animal a lot bigger than slaves. His only hope is to get someone to milk him and you don't even want to do that, apparently. Well, I'm not interested in milking that monstrosity either, so let's move on. God know what else is in this room is these slaves are any example."

Neither Benjamin or Jeremy noticed the tears streaming down the face of the handsome slave they had aroused and then abandoned so abruptly. Even if they had noticed, they could have cared less - it was just a slave after all. The slave was crying in utter frustration - once again he had been aroused without relief; once again he had been labeled a freak; and once again he had been reminded he could only fuck animals bigger than slaves. The slave could only hope that another viewer would be good enough to milk him before the evening was over. He thrust his gigantic organ out further hoping some master's or mistress' hand would wrap around it and stroke him to a full discharge. It would take just a few strokes he was sure as the need to unload simply consumed him and he looked beseechingly at some guests approaching him.

Fortunately, the woman standing next to Jeremy who thought all slaves should be muted also thought slaves should be milked regularly "to keep their balls busy." Grabbing an empty drink cup from a nearby waiter, she stroked the slave until he quickly practically filled the entire cup with steaming thick 'slave cream' as the mistress called it. Without hesitation, she tipped the cup and drank its contents down in one gulp. Patting the slave's balls with one hand as she put the cup back on a tray with the other hand.

"Delicious," she announced, " and plenty of it, slave. Maybe you'll get lucky and someone will buy you as a milk stud since that's about all you're good for hung like that."

Since the slave couldn't respond vocally, he nodded his head in appreciation.

Jeremy and Benjamin moved on to the next section which featured female slaves chained to pedestals, all fully body shaved, all fully mature and voluptuous, but each a different color. There were bodies as black as coal, every conceivable shade of brown, olive- skinned, various shades of yellow tints, a few with reddish tints to their oiled hides, whites well tanned, and whites chalky blue. They had been purchased in Africa, India, China, Central America, Mexico, Scandinavia, and Ireland according to the signs at the bottom of their pedestals. Hanging over their heads was a huge banner: "TRY OUT ALL THE COLORS IF YOU WANT - JUST NOTIFY THE OVERSEER FOR A ROOM UPSTAIRS." Indeed, a few pedestals were empty at the time, the shackles lying their awaiting the slaves return from being used in an upstairs bedroom by one guest or another. As Benjamin and Jeremy looked them over, one of the slaves was being returned by her user and was being re-shackled to her pedestal by the room overseer.

"How was she?" Benjamin asked the user, now beginning to look at some other of the female slaves exhibited.

"Well trained and most cooperative," the mistress, an older women well into her 50s, replied. "Of course, I don't know about her abilities to please a master," she added. She continued to look over another female slave rather casually before announcing to no one in particular, "I think I'd enjoy a nice young stud next," and quickly started to move to another section where such things were available.

"Sounds good," Jeremy replied to her encouragingly, and followed her to the next section which was identical to the display of the female slaves but instead featured young, extremely well-built male slaves of every conceivable color on pedestals. All were handsome to a fault and all were heavy hung - most seemed to be perpetually erect as they were displayed in their entirety. The woman picked out a relatively short South American mestizo- Indian, judging from the reddish tint to his hide, who was strikingly handsome, especially with the inviting smile on his face and his masculine physique, and quickly had the overseer unchain him for her usage upstairs. Jeremy stroked the shaft of a pretty Asian boy briefly while Benjamin massaged the balls of a huge black - so black he looked blue under the strong lights. But neither were in the mood to go much further than just play around at the moment, and after toying with the ringed tits of a well-muscled blond from Sweden and sticking their finger up the ass of a beautiful mulatto boy from America, they wandered on to another section of the room. But these boys on display were a hit with the guests - half of the pedestals were empty at any given time, meaning these slaves were getting a lot of action tonight.

"Mr. Holgate will be pleased these boys of many colors are so popular," Jeremy laughed.

"Lord knows he or his agents must go to a lot of trouble to get such variety," Benjamin added in admiration for his host.

The section in the back of the room was stocked with the unusual and exotic. First was a true hermaphrodite, a creature with both the heavy rounded breasts and curvaceous hips of a woman but also the large penis and balls of a man. To prove the validity of the creatures' bisexuality, the tits were leaking droplets of milk from a recent handling and the swollen prick was leaking precum from that same handling. Despite the oddness, the creature was nice looking with good facial features and a beauteous smile.

"That banner overhead is dead on," Jeremy said as he studied the huge banner stating WHEN YOU CAN'T MAKE UP YOUR MIND. "That's a clever banner - some people do have trouble deciding on which gender turns them on or which color and what not. With these combo's you don't need to choose one or the other."

Benjamin laughed at Jeremy's comment as he squeezed one of the leaking tits, got a squirt on his finger, and lifted it to his lips for a taste. "Good!" he announced. "Just like mother's milk."

"I bet Mr. Holgate paid plenty for this," Jeremy added as he hefted the creature's balls and rolled them around in his hand as the slave softly moaned.

Next was a male midget equipped with a full-sized man's prick and musculature; a full-sized splotched male mulatto slave with a patchwork hide resembling a Pinto horse and hung as well as any horse; a female slave with three tits; a hugely hung male with four balls; a eunuch whose balls had been removed; and a full eunuch where his balls and his prick had been sliced off. The second eunuch had been "fixed" after puberty so he still had a nice masculine body outside his genitals, while the eunuch allowed to keep his prick was obviously cut prior to puberty - his prick was small and undeveloped and his body was as soft and rounded as any female.

"Yes," Benjamin said as he studied the full display. "When you can't make up your mind. Mr. Holgate has thought of everything," he laughed as studied the scars on the fully castrated slave where his manhood had been removed. "They say fucking a eunuch is better than anything else. I can't see why, but that's what people say. You ever fucked one, Jeremy?"

"Never had one handy to fuck," Jeremy chuckled. "You want to add to our repertoire with this one? I will say he's one damn fine looking piece of meat, shorn or not."

"This may be our only chance," Benjamin said. "Let's go for it," and he signaled the room overseer for a collar leash.

Unshackled and leashed, the overseer said he would check to see which rooms upstairs were currently available.

"Don't bother," Benjamin said. "We'll just use one of the benches over there by the wall."

With that, the cut slave was strapped down to a nearby fucking bench by both his wrists and ankles and both masters took their time experiencing their first taking of a eunuch, first Benjamin and then Jeremy. When finished, the slave was covered in sweat and cum was leaking out of his hole rather profusely.

"Well?" Benjamin said as soon as Jeremy had withdrawn from the slave's well stretched hole.

"It was good alright, but, Benjamin, in my opinion, it's not the best ass I've ever had. I don't know if this slave is as good as most eunuchs, but ...no... he wasn't the best fuck I've ever had. Now you take that black boy I fucked earlier... now, that was ....."

"I agree with you Jeremy," Benjamin interrupted. "If this boy's representative, I think eunuchs are overrated."

"Well, they're mainly sold to women, I understand, Benjamin. They do have one big advantage: they can't knock their mistress up and they can't breed new slave pups if you aren't interesting in slave breeding. So I can see the market for them. But just to have one around to fuck, I'll take a big stud anytime."

"I would expect nothing less from a man who judges most slaves are the basis of how hung they are," Benjamin laughed as he motioned for the room overseer to unstrap the eunuch. As the overseer released the slave, the eunuch remembered to thank his users as the overseer began to wipe the sweat off his body and the spent cum off his upper legs before returning him to the pedestal on which he was being displayed.

"Seen enough of all this, Benjamin?" Jeremy asked.

"Yeah, it reminds me of a zoo," Benjamin answered. "Me? I'm too straight and conservative for all this. But I will go with you to the S&M section if you want. It's not my thing, but whatever turns you on. I heard they have some boys back there who have all four limbs amputated, have more scars than skin, and where you can burn them with hot pokers if you want."

"Forget it. I'm not into destroying property just for the fun of it. I"m just not that wealthy, Benjamin. Money is too hard to come by in my case to just waste it."

"Well, a few are really into it," Benjamin responded.

"Each to their own, Benjamin. That's why slaves are such a neat thing. Something for everyone."

THE VOLUPTUARY

By Bill Smith

CHAPTER 13

MR. HOLGATE'S LOTTERY

With that, the two young masters started back to the main room just as the huge gong sounded once again followed by the beating of drums and a chorus of trumpets. Hurrying to the sounds, Jeremy and Benjamin arrived just in time to see the grand entrance of their host, Mr. David Hickam Holgate III, aloft a huge golden litter so heavy it took 16 unusually big beautifully muscled fully naked Polynesian slaves to carry it.

"Welcome, my friends," Mr. Holgate announced as he threw out small plastic tokens, each with a unique number on them. "Gather up these tokens and save them - we'll have a drawing in a few minutes. You may be one of the lucky winners of a little remembrance of our evening together."

Jeremy and Benjamin, like the other guests assembled to see the phenomenal litter and its glorious bearers, scrambled to gather up as many of the scattered tokens as they could. Meanwhile, the huge litter proceeded to the very center of the room, right in front of the gong, and halted. But instead of lowering the litter as the guests expected, the litter remained aloft the straining muscles of the bearers who didn't move other than spreading their legs wide apart and thrusting their pelvises forward.

"We'll keep the boys in tension for your enjoyment," Mr. Holgate explained, "and this way we can easily see each other," as if keeping the slaves under the heavy load was insignificant. "Look them over and fondle them all you want," our host added. "They've positioned themselves for your convenience and would be especially grateful if you milked a load out of them - they haven't been allowed to unload for over three weeks now and," he winked, "are greatly in need of your attention."

The bearers did warrant attention if any slaves ever did. They were all the same height, all of the same heavily muscled build, all the same rich brown cocoa color, all had jet black eyes and hair, all had hairless well oiled bodies below their eyebrows, all were neatly circumcised, and all were fully banded around their large genitals, had rings through both their tits, both ears, and the septum of their nose, and all were collared with a very tall, tight- fitting heavy collar. Best of all, all had exceptionally well developed pecs and abs, taut rounded butts, and very long and thick penises protruding far out from their trunk. As they stood holding the heavy load, their bodies glistened with sweat.

As the guests swarmed around the bearers to fondle their attractive bodies, Mr. Holgate explained their origin.

"This whole herd is from a single island in the South Pacific - Vanuatu - and all are from a single slave tribe so they're genetically related as you probably guessed from their unique similarity one to the other. A master tribe there breeds these boys for export and I was lucky enough to get this herd all the same age - about their total batch of male breeds for that year. Cost me dearly, but I'm sure you'll agree I didn't waste my money. I bought them just as you see them here - the collars, the body rings, the bands, circumcised, and with all their body hair permanently removed. And all guaranteed to be good baby makers if I ever want to breed them, and good shooters if I simply want a milk herd. Go ahead, don't be shy. These boys are looking forward to being milked."

With that, the guests quickly pocketed their tokens and picked the nearest bearer to milk as they fondled the rest of the slave's body. Within minutes, the first bearer shot a huge load, then another, then another, and soon the floor beneath them was coated with sticky white cum and the aroma of sex sweat and fresh cum scented the room.

"Looks like the bearers are going to have to be careful to not slide on all that cum when we leave," Mr. Holgate laughed from his perch above the shoulders of his guests. "But you can see they're grateful for your attention. Although I'm sure they'd like to, they can't thank you themselves. The master tribe selling them to me mutes all their market slaves routinely."

The bearers grunted their thanks as if by cue and again thrust their organs out in invitation for further use.

"See, they're ready for another round," Mr. Holgate laughed. "Go ahead, pumping out a second load is good for them, especially after such a long wait." Again the slaves grunted in acquiescence. Again, some of the guests pumping them off before couldn't resist a second round and those guests who hadn't had a chance to feel the beautiful bodies rushed in to fondle and stroke the appealing flesh offered them. Within minutes, another spewing coated the floor beneath the sweating bearers and was all over the hands of some guests who delighted in licking hot cum off their fingers. Still the bearers bore the heavy load with Mr. Holgate comfortably seated above them.

As the slaves beneath him panted in relief, Mr. Holgate signaled for the gong to sound again, pulling a list out from a side pocket on the litter.

"Now, get those tokens out of front of you," he announced. "It's time to have a little lottery for a few goodies to take home as remembrances. If you don't get any of the big prizes, everyone will get a set of Holgate accessories for your favorite slave back home or even the attendant you brought with you perhaps. That set includes a nice tall silver slave collar, a set of 2" gold-plated tit rings, a gold-plated 2" genital band, and a 4' chromium-link slave leash you can fasten to a slave's collar, his tit, his nose, or his balls, dependent on his body fittings. Just a little something to remember this event. But, I do have three big prizes for the lottery this evening.

Opening his list, he called out "Number 118. Whose got #118?"

A woman responded delightedly, "That's me," waving the winning token in her hand.

"Oh, Deloris, you lucky bitch," Mr. Holgate laughed. "You've just won something you can really use. A coal-black stud from Nigeria," as a black male slave came prancing into the room stark naked except for his genital band and the large ring through his nose. His body was smooth and well oiled so it gleamed under the strong spotlights aimed at his presentation. The young handsome slave was all man and his large organ was appropriately fully erect for one being given away as a stud. "He's all yours, complete with notarized ownership papers, Deloris. Just don't wear him out completely when you get him home," he joked.

"What makes you think I'll wait until I get home?" Deloris shot back, taking the ownership papers from the gift slave's hand and then reaching down to stroke the huge organ between his wide spaced legs. The black slave smiled as she began stoking him, thrusting himself further into her hand as a slave's signal of their new owner's right to handle them. "But thanks, David. It's the perfect gift for a lonely old lady." She led her prize over the side of the room where she could more thoroughly examine the new property.

Mr. Holgate looked down for the next number on his list. "Only two more," he teased. "The next winner is #88. Who's got 88?"

No one spoke up at first, but then one of those busily stroking one of the bearers quickly looked down in the hand not busy and noticed a token with an 88 on it.

"Hey, that's me," the middle aged man said just as the bearer he was stroking shot off in his hand, his arm, and over the front of him since he hadn't turned to miss it in his excitement of winning the lottery. Despite the cum all over him, he turned to see the next prize stumble into the room - an adolescent blond boy fully mature and exceptionally good looking who was heavily shackled. This slave too was totally naked, well hung, well built, and looked bewildered. Strangely, he had not been body shaved, fitted with any bands or rings outside of his collar, and looked like he had just been enslaved.

"He's fresh from juvenile court, Juan," Mr. Holgate explained. He's not had a lick of training, hasn't even been processed yet, and, as far as we know, is still a virgin, although you never really know of course with one as far along as this slave. But he'll be great fun to train to his new duties, to familiarize with his new status in this world, and, if it's true, break in sexually. There's nothing like a fresh virgin, Juan, as you probably know by now."

"You know, David, I've never had a virgin," Juan exclaimed. "And I've always wanted to buy one and try it out."

"Well, now you've got one. But, I warn you, this boy is about as wild as they get and will need to be carefully broken to his new status in life. Those shackles aren't on him just for show. You keep them on until you get him securely caged back at your own house. After that, it's your problem, not mine," Mr. Holgate counseled.

"They say the best way is just rape the little bastard to start with and then start training him in the fine arts," Juan said. "What do you think, David?"

"Well, you've got to start somewhere, but my trainers tell me its best to get them all excited and keep them that way for a good three days and then masturbate them as you're enjoying your first entry into their tight little hole. That way, they associate getting fucked with sexual pleasure and the lesson sticks with them. I don't know, but that's what my own trainers do when we get an inexperienced virgin on our hands and we want to up their resale value."

"Sounds sensible, David," Juan said. "I just don't know if I can stimulate the boy for three days without fucking him along the way. But I'll try," he laughed. "What if he pops off when you're stimulating him?"

"Don't worry. Just so he's all hot and bothered when you do fuck him," David replied.

With that, Juan took the shackled slave by the leash on his neck collar and jerked him over to one side of the room to start the stimulation part of the training while profusely thanking the host for the "thoughtful and much appreciated gift" reminding him again he'd "never had a virgin before."

Again, Mr Holgate looked down at his list. "Well, here's the last lottery prize. Last, but not least, I hope," he said as he announced the last winning number, #3.

Instantly, there was a whoop of joy from a guest no more than 18 or so.

"Yep Hee," the boy shouted. "I'm #3."

A slave in his late 20s came running into the room looking expectantly for his new owner. When he saw the boy holding the #3 token in his hand, he tried to hide his disappointment. He had been hoping to be won by some old man or woman whose demands on his body would be easy to handle.. This boy, frisky as all get-out, looked like he would use him around the clock, was young enough to never wind down, and probably had many friends he would loan his new slave out to on a moment's whim. He would probably be used long and heavy until the boy got bored with a full grown mature man and traded him in on a young female or a boy even younger than him.

"Sebastian, you need the guidance of an older slave around," Mr. Holgate advised. "This animal is beautifully trained for any and all tastes, is very experienced with both genders, and still retains enough vigor to satisfy most any mistress or master. When you tire of him, he'll bring a good price at market or you may want to sell him directly to a stud farm. I've had several breeding farms approach me about this slave as a good potential stud. I can see why with those attractive body features, his good musculature, and what he's carrying between his legs."

"Mr. Holgate," the young master said enthusiastically, "I can't thank you enough. I've always wanted a good stud about his age - makes me feel real good to have control over a male slave a lot older than I am - and, frankly, Mr. Holgate, I like fucking a mature man more than anything."

"Well, most boys your age share those feelings. That's why I'm glad you won this animal. But, remember, when you tire of him - and you will, my boy - think about selling him to a stud farm. You'll get top dollar for him that way, unless you've worn him completely out, you little rascal," he laughed.

"And you, slave," Mr. Holgate glared at his latest gift animal, "you make sure you make this boy happier than he's even been no matter what he asks you to do. That's what you're trained for and that is your God-given destiny as you should know by now."

"Yes, master," the gift slave bowed his head in response. "This slave will make the new master happier than he's ever been," he promised his last owner.

"Well, that's it," Mr. Holgate announced. "Stay as long as like, enjoy anything in the house that is appealing to you - all this slave meat is here for your pleasure. Just don't steal the silverware or good china," he laughed as he clapped his hands, the gong sounded once again, and the 18 heavily muscled slaves, now drained but still in heavy tension, gracefully turned the litter around and disappeared into another part of the mansion, probably Mr. Holgate's personal quarters. As the litter left the room, all the guests broke into spontaneous and highly appreciative applause, hoping against hope they would be invited to the next party, whenever it was scheduled. If not, they would talk about this one the rest of their lives. If so, how on earth could he top this?

The three slave gifts were already in use the minute the litter was gone. The adolescent blond virgin slave was on his knees sucking his new middle-aged master off; the huge black slave was fucking his new mistress to her exact specifications; and the third slave in his late 20s was on his hands and knees being vigorously fucked by his new teenage master. All three slaves were being used right in front of all the other guests, who stood around commenting on the slave's various features and what great prizes they were for a lottery giveaway.

THE VOLUPTUARY

By Bill Smith

CHAPTER 14

PREPARATIONS FOR THE NEXT WINGATE PARTY

The squad of Holgate stewards assembled around their master for instructions. Each had begun their service to Master Holgate as a regular house slave. As they perfected their skills in pleasing their new master and his numerous guests, they were slowly 'promoted,' first to handlers of Holgate slave stock, then to overseers, and, as age, experience within slavery, expertise of skills required, and loyalty to their master accumulated, finally to stewards, a most coveted position for any slave within the Holgate household. A Holgate steward acted "in lieu of the master," watching out for his master's best interests at all times, making sure his master's property performed up to full potential at all times, maintained or enhanced its value, and was as problem-free as possible. Such responsibility required vigilance, unwavering loyalty to his master's best interests, and an intellect that was "slave- proof," i.e., they could not under any circumstances be "conned" or manipulated by any slave under their jurisdiction.

"The next party will be a week from Saturday. I have invited, as usual, about 100 guests, all of whom will be expecting me to outdo anything I've done up to this point, especially since this party will be their introduction to my new home. I've decided this party will have a Roman theme - something like a well-heeled Roman knight of around 150 A.D. might have put on to assure his social standing. I've picked out 10 old movies based on some director's concept of the old Roman Empire and I want you to study them in preparation for the banquet with emphasis on the attitudes toward slaves, the variety of slaves, and the chores they were put to. Of course, being Hollywood movies, they're very puritanical, designed primarily for children's consumption, and don't begin to portray life as it ready was. In the movies, the slaves are often covered; they're seldom collared or tit ringed, and only occasionally utilized for sex."

The stewards broke out in laughter at this last remark in that it was impossible to imagine any world, let alone one as licentious as the Roman Empire, not using slaves for all types of sexual satisfaction. In the world they knew, that was the main function of many slaves, especially those good looking and well built.

"Of course, the Romans didn't have all this electronic gadgetry and I want our new system shown off at its best. All 650 slaves, including yourselves, should be on view on a TV screen easily seen by all the guests with photos of every slave's front, side, and back, both flaccid and fully erect, and with all of that property's statistics listed to one side of each slave's photo: body measurements, ethnic origins, approximate age, time in slavery, length of training, and any special talents that slave possesses. When a guest views that TV image and decides he or she would like to look that slave over personally and possibly use it, the system should summon the slave instantly from his cage or inform the guest that the particular slave is "in use" and approximately when the slave will be available. Program the system so that if the slave is 'in use,' it will ask the guest if he wants to be placed on a waiting list for the slave and how many guests' requests are stacked up ahead of him along with a cancel button if the guest isn't interested in waiting."

One of the stewards most responsible for the electronic system looked down at his feet to hide the tears of shame spilling out of his eyes suddenly. Somehow, the idea of people like himself being electronically "stacked" for sequential fucking by a series of guests who were turned on by their bodies reduced the master's properties to little more than pieces of meat - meat referred to by their owner as "it" and that could be summoned and then sexually used by the mere push of a button, no matter what the slave himself thought about it one way or the other. The steward remembered all the slaves he had dealt with over the years who had bruised and bleeding asses and tits, chafed pricks, muscles so sore they could barely walk, cum dribbling down their legs, and jaws so stretched they could barely move their mouths - all because some guest or another wanted to enjoy their body right then and there. He then thought of the hours and hours of forced exercise day after day to keep those bodies in perfect shape that would appeal to the guests; the rigid diet the slaves were forced to adhere to in order to keep their bodies in top shape, and the long preparations of body shaving, oiling, and enemas necessary to keep them fresh-looking and clean at all times. He even thought of how he had to periodically cull the slave stock and sell off those who were beginning to show a few tell-tale signs of aging or overuse - auctioned off to destinies he didn't even want to think about: life under a constant whip building roads, mining coal or copper, constructing buildings, working the assembly lines, studding crops of new slaves (or, for females, birthing them), used as test subjects for new drugs, or even, toward the end of their productivity, being ground up into animal feed (including, rumor persisted, the most common animal of all, slaves). But, just as quickly, the steward pulled himself out of the dangerous luxury of a mental reverie and again paid full attention to his owner's instructions.

"First, instead of the usual buffet, I want a sit-down dinner, now that, at last, I have the facilities to easily seat at least 150 for a formal affair. My chef has worked out the menu and I have decided to have one waiter assigned to each guest as well as the usual compliment of serving slaves. The waiters will stand in back of and to the right side of each guest, the distance being determined by the guests' ease in fondling the waiter's genitals, which should be uniformly ringed for maximum protrusiveness and ease of fondling. Those 100 waiters should all be males between 5'10" and 6', all white, totally body shaved except for their head hair, and deprived of all sexual outlets for 10 days prior to the event so they are erect and eager to be milked by the guests. In addition, I want them all deeply butt-plugged at the time they are serving to insure full erections at all times and so their butts churn appealingly when they are scampering about."

"Should the butt plugs be ringed, Master?" the chief steward, the only one allowed to directly address the master, asked, "so if a guest wants to fuck one of the waiters, they can easily unplug them?"

"Yes, of course," Master Holgate responded. "No one wants to dig around hunting for a butt plug when they want to fuck one of my properties. Besides, I want the guests to know those waiting on them are being primed for their potential use. Nothing like a large ring sticking out of their ass to let a guest know the slave's hole is being properly stretched, has been completely cleansed and lubricated, and is in readiness for their pleasure."

"Yes, master," the chief steward replied with a look of total agreement on his face. He along with the other stewards were all sporting deeply inserted 8" butt plugs themselves as they listened to their master, the normal expectation of most Holgate properties during the day, but their plugs lacked the handy ring to give them a sleeker appearance. And every steward present had waited tables themselves at some point in their slavery where their bodies were at full disposal of the diners.

"The slaves chosen to actually bring the food to the table should be a medium shade of dark brown, preferably African/Asian blends with heavy tit rings, tall showy collars, ear rings, no nose ring, body shaved of course, and with head hair clipped to 1" for a nice clean look. During the serving time, they should be wearing a pure white jock strap that shows off their heavy package but keeps it safely out of the food they are serving while displaying their butts without hindrance."

"Should we keep the band around the servers' genitals, Master, if they are to be covered?" the chief steward asked.

Master Holgate rubbed his chin as he pondered the question. "Of course, as you know I like all my slaves banded at all times and, although I know it is rare for a property of mine to be covered this way, we will still want to make sure they protrude properly, jock-strap or not! Besides, the covering will be short-lived. As soon as the food has been completely served, these slaves are to shed the covering and remain fully nude for the remainder of the evening. No use hiding what I paid big bucks to obtain, now is there?" he laughed. "My purchasing agent tells me flaccid pricks are running a good $10,000 an inch for anything over a puny 4", and $5,000 an inch even when fully erect - even more if it's real thick too. That translates, steward, into a $30,000 to $40,000 purchase bonus for most anything you see around this house, including the likes of you."

"I shall make sure the servers all keep their bands on," the steward assured his master as he looked down at the tight band around his own well-displayed sexual apparatus, easily qualifying him for the purchase bonus his master had just mentioned. Up until now, he hadn't realized slaves' prices on the auction block were determined in considerable part by a "dollars per inch" formula but it made sense. After all, a big prick should be an integral part of any slave's value alongside such other factors as body build, facial attractiveness, overall musculature, appealing handsome presentation, level of training, and overall slave demeanor. Of course, all Holgate properties were the very best obtainable. Hence, every slave Mr. Holgate owned was handsome to a fault, very heavy hung, eager to perform whatever was asked of him, and exceptionally well built. So it wasn't surprising every Holgate slave, at least, was huge, dripping, handsome, and eager.

As chief steward, it was his responsibility to make sure they stayed that way. If they didn't, he made sure they were sold off or put down and every Holgate slave under his supervision understood that perfectly. Of course, there were variations in how you were sold off: everything from being sold to a mining corporation where you'd never see daylight again, to a common brothel where you would quickly be fucked to death, to a plantation as a field worker where an overseer's whip on your back was a constant companion, to a rendering plant that was eager to tan your hide and turn your insides into fertilizer (or, rumor had it, a major ingredient of slave chow), or, in the best scenario, to simply be sold off to one of the master's friends who had enjoyed fucking you at a Holgate party. The chief steward shivered in dread as he tried not to think of when he too would eventually be sold off when his value to his master decreased. The former chief steward, a most impressive slave who had been free until the age of 23 when his military unit had been captured, had mercifully died in his early 50s as he was busily helping train a new batch of Holgate slaves and had been promptly shipped off to a rendering plant. If he could only be as lucky.

"Enough of these boring details. You stewards have been around long enough to know my expectations in these areas. Let us get on to what will be different at this party.

"First, there is the sit-down dinner. Second, each guest will be rowed to the estate via the river rather than use their cars on the main road. I want the guests brought here on small galleys rowed by teams of eight pure black slaves, all shackled in place, all fully naked, and all positioned to show off their sex at all times. The galley slaves should be noted for their extreme musculature, their tightly curled head hair, their shaved bodies and handsome faces, the sweat running off their steaming bodies, and their huge erect pricks. They should be seated on implanted dildos to assure those erections are constant and to give the slaves the feeling they are being deeply fucked with each stroke of the oar. Each team of galley slaves will have a rather young white driver, even more handsome, who keeps the whip constant on their backs with lots of snapping and cracking, but only enough laceration of the slave's backs and rumps to assure there is nice red blood visible at all times. For contrast with the smooth-skinned galley slaves, I want the driver's bodies unshaved with only their pubes and head hair trimmed. That will appeal to my guests who are bored with the clean-shaven bodies most slaves have these days. The speed of each barge should be astonishingly swift - the type of speed only a good driver and heavily muscled slaves can produce in the short haul. After all, the galley slaves can catch their breath while my guests are loading and unloading. As I said before, let's have all the galley slaves pure blacks for added effect - their glistening sweat-soaked hides will show up nicely reflecting from the torches adorning the front, back and sides of each galley. Each galley slave should display their unique three digit number tattooed in the middle of their upper back (in the case of pure blacks this was done with white ink) and each guest should be told to write down the number of any slave he would like to have available for his use later in the evening when he might enjoy some after-dinner sex. And that, of course, includes those hairy white drivers as well. Make sure every guest is given a small pad of paper and a souvenir pen for just this purpose.

"Next, once off the galley, each guest will be transferred to a waiting litter carried by four blond slaves - all heavily muscled, all hairless outside of their long blond head hair and pencil line beards outlining their jaws, and all outfitted only with thick, tall collars, heavy tit rings, heavily banded genitals to assure maximum display of their sex organs, and each leashed to the litter itself by their 2" nose ring. The litters should be the underslung type with the poles on top of the litter itself so the passenger can see easily the bearer's genitals and ass as he is carried on the bearers' shoulders at full speed to the mansion itself. Each bearer should be butt plugged so he remains hard and dripping at all times and is, in effect, fucking himself with every step he takes. Every guest should be invited to inspect the bearers before or after his little trip and understand that he can fuck any of the bearers he might want on the spot - delays aren't important here - or have any of the bearers suck him off if he wants that. Some might want a given bearer to fuck them; some may want to milk a bearer; some might want to suck off a bearer; some might want to just fondle a bearer's tits or genitals. Sexy-looking blond slaves appeal to a lot of people for different reasons. That's perfectly all right and my guests shouldn't be hurried no matter whatever they might want to do with my properties - the intent is "my property is their property for the duration of the party" and all guests, as well, of course, all my slaves, should fully understand that. It's your job to convey that sentiment to all the guests as well as all my properties, stewards. As with the galley slaves, very guest should be encouraged to write down any litter bearer's number (tattooed in black ink on each bearer's upper back) he might want to use for his pleasure at a later time."

"Yes, master," the stewards answered in unison, having made sure Holgate properties were fully enjoyed at many other previous parties. They wondered if there was enough time to make sure the body hair grew out to cover the bodies of the galley drivers and form the specified pencil line beard of the litter bearers but then decided most slaves' beard and body hair filled in rapidly once the daily shavings were halted. Their master had given them enough time to fulfill his orders.

"I'll be giving away ten slaves during the party this time, since I want it known for its extravagance. Pick out a nice looking variety from the latest crop in from my own breeding operations - one or two girls, the other boys; all late teenagers, all fully trained as sex slaves, and all wearing only their slave collars and their Holgate brand - no tit rings, no genital bands, etc. The idea will be slaves fresh from the breeding farms - fully trained, but still fresh and appealing, to be decorated to the lucky recipients own preferences," Mr. Holgate continued.

"Nude, body shaved, purged, and lubed?" the steward asked.

"Yes, of course, but leave out the butt plug - we want the illusion of virginal here," Mr. Holgate laughed.

"You want virgins, Master?" the chief steward asked in astonishment.

"No, of course not," Mr. Holgate spit out in disgust at his steward's ignorance. "How could they be virgins if they are fully trained as sex slaves, stupid? I said, if you were listening attentively as you should have been, they should give the illusion of virginal due to their freshness."

"Sorry, Master," the chief steward quickly covered his error. "I should listen more carefully to the explicit instructions of my master."

"Indeed, you should, steward, if you want to keep from being turned into animal feed," Mr. Holgate shot back.

The chief steward and his entire staff shuttered at his master's retort. They knew only too well Master Holgate didn't joke about such things. Only last week a slave had strongly protested when being fucked for the third time in one evening by one of Mr. Holgate's guests who enjoyed rough usage of slaves. That boy was strapped to a bench right in front of everyone and methodically had one body part after another cut off screaming in agony as he watched his body slowly disappear into buckets destined for the nearest rendering plant. Finally, all that was left was his torso minus his tits and his genitals and a mouth unable to scream in that his tongue and vocal chords had also been cut out. As a huge dildo was rammed up the ass of the remaining torso, the slave died with a look of horror frozen in his eyes. A few of the guests threw up witnessing this death, but many others got so excited they shot a load spontaneously, while still others grabbed the nearest slave to suck them off or to fuck to alleviate their heightened sexual tension. Most of the slaves in the room simply trembled in fear, vowing to never - ever - protest any order from a freeman no matter what. But some guests did comment on the extravagant cost of such discipline - after all, the slave would have to be replaced, and he had been a handsome, well hung boy that had probably cost a pretty penny at the slave market - wouldn't a good beating or cut rations for a week or so have taught the slave proper conduct?

"Ancient Roman theme or not, it will give us a good chance to try out the new electronic slave paging system I've installed. Theoretically, every guest needs only to punch in the slave's three-digit number and, within a few minutes, that slave is there to fulfill his needs or, if the slave is in use, approximately when he will be available and how many requests are in queue before him or her. But, if the system fails, and you know the reliability of electronic systems, be sure to have a backup system in place."

"Like the one we have always used before, master?" the chief steward asked.

"Exactly, steward. It's a little slower, but we KNOW that system works," Mr. Holgate smiled as he recalled a particular slave he had noticed in the dining room earlier delivered to his room within three minutes just last night. That slave, a handsome mixed blood boy around 20 or so purchased from a South American breeder, had proven to be a good choice - he was eager to please, inexhaustible, had skin like velvet, and prodigious equipment that seemed to remain hard no matter how many times the boy emptied his balls.

"As soon as the guests are assembled, the galley slaves as well as the litter bearers are to be quickly cleansed and oiled and back in their cages where they can be paged electronically for a guest's immediate usage. In the foyer I want 100 more slaves available for guest usage - I'd say about 50 prime males and 50 females of various colors. We have a number of women guests invited who will want a nice selection of studs available for their use but there will also be many guests, both men and women, desiring a female for their pleasure. Of course, many of the male guests will want to fuck both male and female slaves, and then there are always those large number of my male guests who are only interested in the male slaves available to them. It's not surprising that the use of male slaves for the sexual pleasures they offer has grown disproportionally as slavery has become widespread. It's much easier just to order a male stud to do your bidding as compared to having to go to all the trouble seducing them to your bed," Mr. Holgate chuckled. "No wonder there are practically no males around that are exclusively heterosexual anymore - only a few ultraconservative diehards and some religious fanatics. Steward, can you think of a single master anymore who doesn't have at least one male slave in his bed now and then?"

"No, master. Most masters nowadays tend to collect whole harems of studs for their pleasure. Just like all the mistresses I am aware of, master."

"Well, make sure our guests have no problems in getting exactly what they want during the party, steward," Mr. Holgate said rather sternly. "No master or mistress wants to wait more than a few moments once they have decided on a particular body they want to enjoy."

"Yes, master. I will make sure we have sufficient stock on hand to meet the guests' desires quickly throughout the evening, master."

"Well, with a total of 650 pieces of premium flesh on hand, that shouldn't be a problem," Mr. Holgate smugly replied. "If necessary, utilize all of them. That's why I bought them and they should know that by now. That includes the chefs, the chauffeurs, the cleaners, the gardeners - the whole damn herd - not just those we bought specifically as pleasure providers."

"Yes, master. I will make sure we have fresh stock available throughout the evening and that, by the time the party is over, that all your property has demonstrated their value to you and your guests, master."

"That will include you and the other stewards," Mr. Holgate warned. "Just because I hold you responsible for my livestock's performance doesn't mean you are exempt from offering your bodies for the guests' pleasure."

The last comment from their master led to all the stewards' banded sexual organs swelling to a full erection as usually happened when the slaves sexual use was being discussed.

"Of course not, master," the chief steward replied.

"In fact, I think you could concentrate much better on my instructions if you were being fucked. Form a circle so each of you can fuck the slave in front of you while receiving a good fucking from the slave in back of you. Pump vigorously but don't cum until I give you permission. That should keep you attentive," Mr. Holgate said with a chuckle as the stewards quickly formed a small circle behind a colleagues' inviting ass and, without delay, thrust into the steward in front of him and started thrusting vigorously while simultaneously taking a throbbing prick up their own hole. Within a minute, the room was filled with the eery sound of pricks sliding in and out of well lubricated ass holes, heavy panting, and muffled moans. Mr. Holgate reflected that the term "Daisy Chain" didn't quite describe the writhing circle of animal passion he was now witnessing. Indeed, slaves were no more than animals, even the supervisory stewards, who, even now, were paying attention to every word of their master as they humped away like dogs in heat.

"The distribution of slave gifts will be done early in the evening - I want to see the gifts well used before they leave these premises for good. The giveaways will be presented as if they are to be auctioned off - each chained to a pedestal for guests' inspection prior to the auction, and then, mounted on the auction block in full presentation mode. I intend to give away 8 male slaves who should be on the sales podium with his hands in back of his slave collar, his pelvis thrust forward with his prick fully erect, and then given to a guest chosen at random by the house computer. The two female gifts should be presented similarly with the exception their breasts should be thrust forward, their nipples fully erect, and their legs spread wide to display their clitoris and vagina. All gift slaves should be freshly oiled, hairless of course below their eyebrows, and in a visible state of sexual excitement prior to being shown. As I give each slave away, I will suggest the recipient try his new gift out immediately to see if he wants to keep the gift or try to exchange his gift with another recipient. To make sure my guests understand what I mean by "trying a slave out" I want several pairs of slaves there on the stand fucking and sucking each other positioned so every guests can see them easily - sort of a way to break the ice for those guests who might be a little inhibited and old fashioned when to comes to performing sex in front of others. Modesty is alright for sex between free people, but with slaves it seems ridiculous. After all, it's not like screwing your wife - a slave is just an animal, after all, and this is a party designed for people to enjoy themselves."

"Yes, master," the chief steward puffed as he continued to plow into the steward in front of him while accommodating the prick of a steward plowing his ass from behind him. "We shall.... make ... .sure... Master.... that the gift slaves are..... properly presented ..... and put .... to ...use... much ... as ...we ..are..right .. now," the steward responded the best he could as he struggled to keep from blasting off into the ass of the steward he was fucking. "Master..... may ... I ... be ... allowed to .... shoot off? I can't hold it much ..... longer, master..." the steward gasped out.

"Oh, very well," Mr. Holgate said as each of the stewards, with a moan of relief, emptied his balls into the ass of the slave steward he was screwing. Within a minute, all asses were leaking hot cum and each of the stewards had collapsed on the steward in front of them.

"Lick that cum off the ass you just fucked and get back into proper kneeling position," Mr. Holgate ordered as each of the stewards carefully licked all of his man juice out of the ass he had just fucked, swallowed the full amount, and then quickly assumed a kneeling position in front of their master, their knees spread wide to again fully display their sex with their hands in back of their slave collars.

"Now for my grand entrance," Mr. Holgate continued... "but first, I need some refreshment. Steward, summon a couple of fresh milk studs and pump a full load from each of them out into a chalice. Nothing like some hot fresh cum as an afternoon snack."

"Yes, master," the chief steward answered as he swiftly punched two numbers into his hand held computer. Several levels below, two cage lights went on, two cage doors swung open, and two huge studs, both black, crawled out hastily and proceeded to run down a path of lights guiding him to the source of his summons. Within 90 seconds, the two studs entered the room, their gigantic pricks swaying as they ran, their breathing very rapid from the swift run, and positioned themselves in front of the steward, their pelvises thrust forward for easy handling, their long thick pricks already hard and ready to be milked, their legs spread wide apart for ease of access, and their hands placed in back of their necks for a good display of their bodies. Without hesitation, the chief steward took a chalice from the nearby table and quickly milked the first stud with one hand while churning the slave's balls with his other hand until the last drop of man cream had been extracted. He then turned to the other slave and milked him dry also. By the time he was finished, the chalice was full to overflowing, was steaming in its freshness, and both milk studs were slightly flaccid, their balls now soft and considerably smaller. Without hesitation, the chief steward handed the full chalice to his master and, with a slap to each milk stud's rump, sent them back to their cages where they knew they were to recharge as quickly as possible and await another summons, if they were lucky, at some undeterminable time. If no summons came for several days, they knew from experience their balls would ache from being swollen full without relief, their every thought would be on getting a master to milk them, and eventually they would be dripping all over their cage as they struggled to keep from spontaneously spurting their load without permission. Even rubbing their swollen organs up again the cage bars was strictly prohibited, let alone ever touching any area between their legs. What they stored in their balls was their master's property - not their's - and they fully understood that at this point in their training.

Master Holgate continued his instructions as he swallowed large drafts of the refreshing warm stud milk.

"My entrance will be in a chariot pulled by 8 prancing matched black-haired white slaves: all about 5'10", all shaved below their necks, all with a pencil line beard and connecting mustache, and all tit ringed, genitally banded with a penile ring, and all tall-collared, but no ear or nose rings. They should be harnessed in red leather, be fitted with mouth bits, with the reins attached to their tit rings. All should be butt plugged so their asses churn as they pull the chariot (purchase a flashy one, preferably gold, from some movie lot), and I want them all coated in a heavy oil so they practically glow in the lights. Then I will ascend a throne surrounded by 16 kneeling blacks arranged in a circle around me, each naked black selected for his musculature and the extreme size of his erect penis. They will lift me to atop their shoulders with their legs spread wide for at least an hour so make sure you pick some sturdy slaves and, I don't need to tell you, I will invite the guests to fondle their bodies as they are holding me, including milking them as they please, so make sure their balls are stuffed full to start with.

"After I'm out of the chariot, the white ponies should be unhitched, have their bits removed, and then crawl beneath my ascended throne where they will fuck each other beneath my throne just as you stewards did a few minutes ago for my amusement. The only difference is, I expect them to fuck each other in a continuous chain for the full hour I am being held aloft, so they should exercise heavy body control during that time. After that, of course, along with my throne supporters, they should offer themselves to my guests for the remainder of the evening. That will give my guests 24 prime animals at their complete disposal as a little variety to the other offerings of the evening. When the guests are through using those 24, they should be sent down to the cleansing station for refurbishing and reassignment back to another round of guests. I expect those particular 24 slaves to take on at least 8 guests before the night is over - anything less and they should understand they face some severe discipline the next morning. That knowledge should assure you stewards that they won't be shirking their duties - in fact, you should emphasize they will need to solicit the guests' usage at every opportunity if they are to meet their quota for the evening. There's nothing better than seeing one of my properties desperately beg one of my guests to fuck him.

The stewards were well familiar with the master's injunction that all his properties were to seek out guest usage at every opportunity. Every one of them had been involved in dispensing the severe discipline to slaves the next morning who, despite every effort on their part, had failed to garner the necessary number of guest usages the previous night. It was seldom necessary to discipline the same slaves over and over for failure to solicit usage. Almost every slave made sure they met their quota from then on no matter what was necessary to interest a guest in using them - anything a guest did to them was far preferable than facing a steward's discipline, even begging a guest you knew got their pleasure from torturing a hapless slave or enjoyed fucking a slave until he was senseless or got their jollies from seeing slaves writhe in agony from various abuses. A slave knew he usually healed from whatever a guest could do to him; the steward's discipline was so severe it generally often permanently mutilated your body. Of course, the stewards reflected, there were masters who bought slaves simply to destroy their bodies for some whim or another (some liked to amputate body parts; some liked slaves left only with a trunk and his sexual organs; some enjoyed castrating a slave; some like to cut designs into their hides; and still others enjoyed cutting a slave's tendons so they could only crawl from then on). No guest could do that to property that didn't belong to them, so they were relatively safe as long as Master Holgate held their ownership papers.

"You watch those olf Hollywood movies, multiply what you see 100 times when it comes to slaves, adjust it to what we (and probably the Romans if the truth were known) expect of slaves, get rid of all that silly clothing on slaves, and come up with something interesting fo the party. I expect a detailed plan for my review in three days time. Just make sure you incorporate the good ideas I've given you today and make sure no guests leaves this party with a trace of disappointment no matter what his or her expectations were - I want every guest talking about this party for years to come and utterly amazed. I don't really care what it cost, how many of my properties are worn out in their efforts to please, or how many slaves we have to sell off afterwards because they couldn't keep up with guests' demands. If that's the case, remind them that when we sell off slaves, we sell them to dealers who make sure they get full value from slaves one way or another and their cushy life here was only a pleasant dream."

With that, Master Holgate stood up. It was obvious the day's instructions were over.

THE VOLUPTUARY

By Bill Smith

CHAPTER 15

VISITING CLAUDE DUPREE

"I'm going to visit my friend Claude DuPree now, Chief Steward. Summon my car. Claude has a Mexican slave he says is amazing and is offering me first option on him if he appeals to me. He claims the boy is dazzlingly handsome, equipped like a bull, and takes you to a whole new level of pleasure when you fuck him. Supposedly, the slave is only 18 and has skin that glows like amber with bright blue eyes - Claude claims he's pure Aztec and, since he bought him presumably at a Mexican slave market well off the beaten track, he may just be a pureblood. But," he chuckled, "you and I both know how Claude loves to exaggerate. That black he sent over on approval last week to 'suck me off like I've never been sucked before' was no better than any 20 properties we have right here on hand at any given time."

"Yes, master," the Chief Steward said as he stood to order up the master's limousine. He did remember the black slave of his master's friend Claude DuPree. The black was extremely handsome and ruggedly masculine as well as hung like a bull, but when his master had handed the boy over to him to "check him out for yourself," he had to agree with his master. The young slave was no better with his mouth than thousands of other similarly trained slaves - he took a prick clear down his throat all right, and the suction was good, but the tongue action was languid and the throat muscles were still uncoordinated to the task at hand. You could never truthfully say the slave was "milking" you with his throat.

The Holgate limousine, a recently purchased Maybach, pulled up to the front entrance and one of the Holgate chauffeurs, a slave of course, leaped out to open the rear door for his master, his eyes appropriately cast downward in respect with his body at rigid attention (legs slightly apart, pelvis and chest thrust outward with head held high above his tight collar). He was conservatively dressed for a slave due to his exposure to a variety of public situations: skin-tight full length spandex black pants with a special buckle made up like the Holgate slave brand, black socks and shoes, a special silver collar, ear and tit rings, and that's all. The chauffeur was magnificently built with an oiled brown hairless body (outside his handsome head which had shoulder-length tightly braided dread locks and a pencil-line black beard and mustache) that exactly matched both the limousine's external paint as well as the interior especially upholstered with tanned slave hides featuring the Holgate brand marks. The huge bulge in the chauffeur's skin tight pants informed anyone looking at him that this slave was superlatively equipped. As soon as his master had entered the car, the slave chauffeur gently closed the door and raced to the driver's seat. With a smooth glide forward, the limousine was soon mixing in with the traffic, its chauffeur, with his legs spread wide apart as trained, alert to any new instructions from his master in the rear compartment.

This particular chauffeur had driven his master to his friend Claude before and, as he waited for his master by the car once they had arrived at the DuPree mansion, marveled at Master DePree's plethora of slave stock - all kept totally naked at all times, all obviously selected for the size of their sex organs as well as their well muscled physiques, and all in a perpetual state of sexual arousal due to the deep butt plugs implanted in them which constantly stimulated their prostates. Master DePree seemed to have no females in his household, although the chauffeur knew he operated a rather large breeding farm, obviously in some other location. He wondered if all the household slaves were products of the breeding farm or if this master had purchased them at some market or another. Regardless, the DePree slaves marveled at the fact the visiting slave wore clothing of any type, that he was fitted with pure silver tit rings, and that he was entrusted with driving such an expensive car. None of them dared to get close to the car, despite their curiosity to view its interior, but they did, when they thought their overseer was out of hearing range, ask the chauffeur about his unique belt buckle, his silver collar, when he learned to drive a car, how much a car like the Maybach cost, how long his master had owned him, and how often he got fucked.

The car question was typical and the chauffeur answered the cost inquiry in terms they could understand. The Maybach cost more than four times what he (or they) were likely to bring if auctioned off. The last two questions were almost standard whenever any slave found an opportunity to visit with another slave and the chauffeur answered their questions with a big smile: his master had always owned him in that he was a product of his master's breeding operations; and he usually got fucked two or three times a day, usually by one of his master's friends or household guests, but occasionally by the master himself, especially on any trip over two or three hours when the master hadn't bothered to bring one of his regular sex slaves along with him. The chauffeur explained that on those trips, he had to park the car, strip, and then climb in the back compartment for his master's convenience.

"You mean you have to get back into those stretchy pants with cum all over you?" one of the DuPree slaves asked, obviously worried about the burden of wearing a few clothes.

"Yes," the chauffeur answered, "but it soaks into the cloth quickly and he doesn't always fuck me anyway. A lot of times, he has me suck him off so there's nothing to mess the car up that way."

"What's the inside of that fancy car like?" another slave, standing nearby dared to ask.

"It's fitted with the finest woods and upholstered in slave hide," the chauffeur said. "All with brand marks showing and all matched for color - the same as mine."

"Slave hide?" the slave asked incredulously. "You mean when we die they strip off our skin and tan it - just like leather?" The slave trembled at the thought.

"Only if you have a real smooth hide, the color they're looking for, and some interesting brand marks or whip weals that might show up well," the chauffeur explained without emotion. "What difference does it make - you're dead anyway when they hide you. You won't feel a thing," the chauffeur chuckled.

"They won't hide me," the slave replied assuredly. "My master, he doesn't shave my hide - he likes me with a lot of hair as you can see - all he trims off is my pubic and ass hair. He says he likes the look of my black curly fur."

"They're want your hide all the more," the chauffeur laughed. "You see the back compartment of the car. It's upholstered entirely with hides that have a lot of fur on them. My master says it makes it very luxuriant and, I must say, it is nice to the touch. The chauffeur's compartment and the door panels are all upholstered with smooth hairless hides so the brand marks show up better. But I find it very supple and soft, but you have to oil slave hide regularly to keep it that way."

"What oil do you use?" the inquiring slave continued.

"Same oil they use on you and me now," the chauffeur laughed. "Just because you die on them doesn't mean you're going to get away from slave oil. After I oil my own body, I just keep on and oil the car's upholstery. Are you bred or were you free once?" the chauffeur asked the constant questioner.

"Me? I was free until I was 20 and then got enslaved for drug dealing. Stupid, really, but you know the courts don't put up with anything to do with drugs. Sent to the county slave training center for a few months, put up for auction, and Master DePree outbid everyone else. He told me he liked my blue eyes, my black hair, my big dick, and my muscular build and that I was to keep my hair long, not shave my body outside of my pubes and ass hair, and exercise no less than two or three hours a day to keep all my muscles taut like he wants them if I wanted to be fed and ever get to empty my balls. So now, I'm in his forced exercise regime along with the others, get a measured amount of slave chow twice a day, all the water I want, and get to shoot off once every few weeks if I'm lucky. That keeps me looking pretty, muscular, and horny all the time," the handsome black-haired slave laughed.

"What does your master use you for?" the chauffeur asked.

"Keeping the outside clean and his lawn in order and," he smirked, "fucking the hell out of me whenever he takes a fancy for a boy with bright blue eyes, black hair, and a big thick dick."

"And how often is that?" the chauffeur teased the talkative DuPree slave.

"About every other day, but he loans me out to his friends at least once a day and he has me fucked by his other slaves for entertainment quite a bit too," the handsome slave said with a blush of embarrassment.

"My God, you still blush at admitting you get fucked a lot?" the chauffeur laughed. "You and about ten million other slaves, I imagine."

"Well, I only get off about once every two or three weeks and that's the hard part of it," the slave replied. "Besides," he blushed bright red and then whispered, "I still prefer sex with women."

"So what? What you want doesn't have a damn thing to do with it and you know it, slave," the chauffeur lectured. "You're lucky masters want to use your body. Otherwise, you'd be in the mines or on a construction crew and you damn well know it. Better a male whore than what else slaves have to do," the chauffeur said with considerable conviction.

"I know you're right," the handsome blue-eyed slave replied with a tear in his eye. "But I sure would like to fuck some pussy sometime before I die."

"You ever fuck pussy before you got enslaved?" the chauffeur asked.

"Plenty," the black-haired slave said. "At least three or four times a week - I guess it got me in a bad habit."

"Bad habit for a slave, unless you got bought for studding," the chauffeur added.

"That's my big dream," the DePree slave brightened up. "The overseer said the other day the master was going to pick one of us to spend some time down in the rutting sheds of his breeding farm. It might be me if he's wanting some blue-eyed white stock in the future."

"Well, don't count on it. The current market, I understand, is for mixed breeds - you know, mulattos, Eurasians, quadroons, exotics like Polynesians mixed with Chinese, Arabs mixed with Scandinavians, stuff like that. Of course, they're always be a market for some pure breeds like pure blonds, pure blacks, pure Polynesians. And as a white, they could always have you breed with a black to get a nice mulatto or something. I understand I'm the product of a pure black African stud mated with a light-skinned Arab wench. Turned out rather well, don't you think?"

"O.K.," the white slave acknowledged. "By the way, what did your master name you?"

"Driver," the chauffeur replied. "He usually names us for what we do."

"Not very imaginative," the white slave snickered. "What are some of your master's other slaves named?"

"Steward, Overseer, Yardboy, Bedbuck, Pleasure, Chef, Prick, Asshole, Waiter, Washerman, Sucker, and he's got a stud in house named Humper. What did your master name you?"

"Available," the white slave blushed again.

"No, I know you're always available to your master - all his slaves would be - but what did he name you?"

"I just told you. Available. And that's just the way it ends up. I'm available to anyone anytime and better be good at what they want from me or I get a whipping I don't forget as well as cut rations for a couple of weeks."

"Good a name as any," Driver replied after some reflection.

"Yeah, but it doesn't do much for my self-esteem," Available chuckled.

Inside the mansion, Driver's master was examining the much vaulted Mexican slave being offered for sale.

"My God, Claude. He's not even branded and collared, and even with that ring in his nose, if you put clothes on this animal, he could pass himself off as a freeman. Have you lost your mind? Slaves tear their nose rings out all the time to get loose and the only way you can tell is they're minus a septum in their nose and not everyone will notice, especially if the slave keeps his head down."

"Calm down, David," Claude laughed as he hooked a leash to the Mexican slave's nose ring and pulled it taut to make sure it was fastened properly. The action whipped the Mexican boy's face directly toward his current owner which a muffled howl of surprised pain since the tug was not expected. "I'm leaving all that up to his new owner. I just bought him for re-sale and you know those rural markets in Mexico don't waste any money dolling up slaves with one thing or another - all that cost money, you know."

"Well, a brand wouldn't have cost much of anything and plastic collars are cheap enough," David Holgate said curtly, "even for the Mexican merchants. You're lucky you got him here without him trying to run."

"It's hard to run when you're locked in a steel cage so small you can barely squirm around," Claude DuPree laughed. "But I'll at least put a temporary collar on him and make sure he's caged all the time we're not showing him off or fucking him. Just where do you think this animal is going to run, David? He doesn't have a stitch of clothes, he hasn't the faintest idea of where he's at, and he doesn't speak a word of English outside of 'Yes, Master,' and 'No, Master.'"

"You're more naive than I thought, Claude," David said. "A boy that's probably only recently been caught by the slave catchers, and hence was free all his life until then, and who is half-way intelligent knows full well how to steal a few clothes and a little money, pick up a little English, and figure out how to eventually work his way home, telling everyone along the way he's a free Mexican looking for a runaway slave. It happens often enough. Last I read, the government figures there are over 1900 runaway slaves out there somewhere. I grant you that's damn few out of the millions properly caged and collared, but still - each one is stolen property and someone's financial loss. You do know, don't you Claude, that an owner allowing a slave to escape can be charged with severe negligence and the fine is very steep - more than the slave would cost anyone."

"I didn't know that," Claude replied. "Doesn't seem fair. First you lose what you paid for the property. Then you have to pay a fine on top of that?"

"That's to knock some sense into careless owners like you, Claude," David lectured. "If that's the only way you can learn, so be it. You won't get any sympathy from me if an collared, unbranded slave boy likes this takes off on you and tries to hoodwink the free population he's one of them. The audacity of such a thing - unimaginable! But some of these properties are pretty clever, considering they're just animals really."

David was so upset he grabbed the displayed slave's big balls, and gripping them firmly with one hand, began to roughly stroke the Mexican's huge prick to a full erection with his other hand as the hapless boy endured the harsh inspection.

As David was stroking the slave, Claude commented that the black slave he had loaned David for a trial period was just finishing up a retraining program with one of his best sex trainers.

"I'm really glad you gave me the negative feedback on that black," Claude said. "You were right. When we tried him out again after your return of the property, we found he really wasn't the great sucker we originally thought. As you said, he didn't really use his throat muscles to milk you, just grip you and let it go at that with a little tongue action. But he's coming around now. The trainer has a ball shocker installed on the black. Then he monitors his throat muscles when he has a real big one clear down his throat and the minute the slave's throat muscles aren't in a rhythmic pumping movement on that embedded shaft, he gets his balls fried. Doesn't take long with a ball shocker on him to learn what's expected of a good slave sucker. I want you to try him out before you leave, if you will, to vertify the new training program has been effective. We'll leave the ball shocker on him just to make sure, but the trainers tell me once they're completely trained, the throat muscles work on their own automatically once they're stretched by a prick down their throat and they suck properly from then on with the ball shocker off of them. The change is supposedly permanent and I can see why. I'm sure a slave is more contented doing something with their throat muscles than just freezing up and I'm sure they get a lot more cum in their bellies working those throat muscles. All slaves, kept on restricted rations, likes the extra meal a good load of hot nourishing cum gives them."

"Your sex trainers sound competent, Claude. At least their logic is self-evident," David replied. "And I will want to see how the black has progressed in this essential chore before I leave," David added. "He had potential - I could tell - but a slave who hasn't developed his full potential is really a waste, I'm sure you'll agree. If you've got him sucking properly for a change, I might be interested in purchasing the black after all."

By then the Mexican boy was struggling to keep from ejaculating in response to the constant stroking of his sex organ but knew he didn't dare without his owner's permission. That much he had thoroughly learned in his relatively short captivity so far - his body was the property of his master and he was not to do any bodily function without his master's express permission, including shooting off, no matter how much stimulation his body was getting. He broke out in a deep sweat all over his golden body, his muscles tensed, and his breathing grew ragged as his prick started tremoring in David's hand.

David, very experienced in handling slaves, let loose of the slave's organs and quickly ordered the boy onto his back with his legs over his shoulders and his hole fully exposed.

"I want to fuck your new slave while he's all heated up," David said to his host. "Any objections?"

"That's why he's here, David," Claude crooned. "I told you he one's of the best fucks around and I want you to see for yourself - I really didn't expect you to just take my word for it," he laughed.

The Mexican boy assumed the commanded position still quivering in need as his big prick pulsated, larger than it had been in weeks. When first enslaved, he hated being force fucked like this. Now, after his hole had been stretched by numerous sessions with the trainers - all of whom seemed to be as well equipped as he was - it was about the only way to get some sexual relief. Usually, his user allowed him to shoot off at the same time they were shooting their load into hisr ass so they could care less about the mess you were making between your bodies. After all, you had to lick it all up after you had finished cleaning off their prick with your mouth. Even when they fucked you doggie style, the pool of cum you had shot out beneath you while they were filling your ass with their own load didn't seem to bother them, especially if you cleaned it up with your tongue when they were finished with you cleaning them. In fact, most users seemed to like to see the slave licking up his own cum for a little added extra. First, you swallowed their remnants of cum off of their prick; then you swallowed your own off the floor.

Just four months ago, the young boy had been free, but desperately poor. Too poor to even buy a few minutes with even the oldest, most worn out slave puta (whore), male or female, at the rundown local brothel. And no free girl would let you in their shirts without marrying them first - pre-marital sex for a female usually ended up with her being sold into slavery. So most sex was courtesy of his right hand pumping away whenever he got a chance. Slavery changed all that - now he was never allowed to masturbate himself; now he could only get relief with the express approval of his master; and that was usually, but not always, after he had been fucked. Even sucking a master off brought little relief - the master almost never allowed a slave to masturbate just because he had done a particular good job of sucking someone off. So the Mexican boy had learned about the only way he could ever get any sexual relief was to willingly allow his ass to be fucked when anyone was desirous of doing so. By now, he was so hard up all the time, he found himself actually soliciting the use of his ass, just like the whores back in his small home town. Like most horny adolescents who were poor, he used to dream of owning a slave of his own and what he would do with unlimited access to that slave's body. True, most of those dreams were of female slaves, but, he had to admit, a few of them involved handsome boy slaves, especially when he would see one naked on the streets owned by some rich man. Now, he WAS that naked boy slave and he could understand why all those naked boy slaves he had seen on the streets of his home town always looked at you longingly with their big pricks almost always erect expressing their need. It was as if the slave boys were always in a state of sexual excitement and need - now he knew why. His prick was seldom flaccid anymore and he knew he looked at free persons as a way to alleviate his needs. Yes, he had truly become a slave.

His master's guest had already stripped and, within moments, had his prick sliding up the Mexican slave's well lubricated ass chute. As the slave's training clicked in, his ass muscles tightened around the invading prick and started to pump it just as he had been taught in weeks and weeks of rigid training. A smile spread across the slave's face as he felt his user's organ nudge his joy spot deep inside his body and pleasure spread across every cell of his body. The slave began to hump upward in rhythm with his user's fucking movements and twisted his tight hole to heighten his user's pleasure. His master's guest began to chew on the slave's nipples, which, due to his thorough training, only heightened the slave's excitement in being fully used and the Mexican boy felt his balls tighten as cum raced down his interior ducts. Just when he felt his user tighten in anticipation of shooting deep into his bowels, the slaveboy cleverly relaxed so his user didn't shoot off prematurely and thus encouraged him to another few minutes of unparalleled bliss in fucking the slave boy. Finally, after three "ups" for the master and three "downs" by the slave boy beneath him, the master could be held back no longer and, the slave sensing this, tightened his ass mucles even tighter and pumped the fully embedded prick until it exploded within him, dumping load after load of cum into his bowels until the master had been completely drained and was laying atop him breathless, an enlarged tit still in his mouth.

"Jesus Christ," David panted. "That's was one holy fuck."

"I told you," Claude said, sitting in a nearby chair enjoying the scene played out before him. "But the room simply reeks of sex smell," Claude laughed. "As soon as the Mexican slave cleans off your shaft and licks your body clean of his own jism, I'll get some air freshener out."

The slave, unprompted, quickly swallowed the master's prick the minute it was withdrawn from his body and cleaned it completely with a good mouthing and lots of tongue action. Only when his user was satisfied did he turn attention to his own body and began to clean it with his finger scooping up the residue and then swallowing it along with the cum and ass juice remnants of his user.

"Mucho gracios, Master," the Mexican slave said contritely to his master's guest who had just fucked him since the only English he knew yet was "Yes, Master" and No, Master" and neither response seemed to fit.

It would have been unthinkable to return the thanks to a mere slave, but David did give the slave an interested look. After he had his clothes back on, David asked his friend Claude how much he wanted for the Mexican boy.

"You can have him and the fully retrained black for $100,000. I'm feeling generous and really have no use for either one of them myself. David, I paid $25,000 for the Mexican before any training, and bred blacks built like the one I want to sell you, fully trained, are selling for at least $60,000 on the open market. It's a great buy if I do say so myself?"

"Perhaps, but the Mexican isn't even collared, let alone branded or properly ringed outside of that nose ring of his. The black is at least properly fitted out."

"Buy them both for $100,000 and I'll give you the Mexican caged so he can't run away until you get him to his new home and do whatever you want to do to his body to make sure everyone in God's earth will know he's someone's property now. I'll throw that tight little cage in for free - you won't even need to return it once you have the slave fitted out and branded properly. Just think, this way you can put your own brand on him wherever you like, ring the shit out of him, and put a collar on him that'll keep his handsome head up for all to see."

"Let the black suck me off first, and if he does it right this time, it's a deal."

"But, David, you're drained dry," Claude laughed.

"It will give the black slave a challenge," David smiled.

The black was summoned, David once again removed his clothes and Claude once again settled back in his chair to watch a great show still restraining the Mexican slave beside him by the tight leash on his nose ring. This time, the black eagerly swallowed the proffered prick all the way down into his throat where his throat muscles instantly went to work pumping the organ within it while the black's tongue and sucking motions worked continuously. In a amazingly short time, David felt his prick swell to its full aroused size and begin to pulsate in preparation for yet another big discharge. Meanwhile, he played with the slave's ringed tits, very convenient now that the well-built black was on his knees. The tits swelled in his hands and were large and meaty to the touch, just the way David liked them. Within a few more minutes, he stiffened, arched his back, and pumped a fresh load down into the black's stomach in volley after volley.

"God, I'm tuckered out," David gasped as he slowly withdrew his prick from the black's throat, who then promptly cleaned it of any residue with his tongue. "That's some retrainer, Claude. That ball shocker method works. This slave knows what to do when he swallows a prick now!"

"Then you'll buy him along with the Mexican boy?" Claude confirmed.

"Sold," David gasped out, "but remember I want the Mexican caged for the trip home."

"Caged it will be," Claude laughed. "And I'll just leash the black by his balls for you. You may want to play with him on your way home. Are you going to put the black in the trunk of that Maybach with the caged Mexican or are you going to let him ride in the back compartment with you on all that furry slave hide?"

"Claude, the black's going to get to inspect the furry slave hide," David laughed, so make sure he's all clean - no sweat on his hide, understand?"

"He'll be spotless, just like your Maybach," Claude chuckled. With that, the black and the Mexican slaves were sent to the mansion's slave maintenance center where they were given enemas, showered, and re-oiled. The black slave had a leash fastened to his genital ring and the Mexican, no longer leashed by his nose ring, was shoved into his tiny cage. They were then delivered to the front entrance where the Maybach and Driver awaited. CHAPTER 16

THE TWO NEW PURCHASES

The Mexican slave could see a little of the outside world through the ventilation holes in the side of his sturdy metal cage. The metal box was so cramped he couldn't move much anyway, but, just to make sure movement was limited, his nose ring had been fastened to one of several clamps inside the cage and his hands had been shackled behind him, forcing him to remain in one position no matter what and making sure he had no access to his sexual organs for manual relief. Inside the cage he felt no different than a pig trussed for the marketplace.

The young slave thought back to the first time he had been put in a cage. By comparison to his current confinement, the large cage in the back of the beat-up old Chevy pickup truck that had taken him to the small town in Mexico where he had first been sold at the slave market there had been a dream. At least in that old truck's cage, he could move around a bit, even though there were five other naked male slaves in the cage, and, once underway, the slaves had stroked and sucked each other just to pass the time away. The captives were oblivious to the stares of those free persons alongside the road who commented on how slaves were just animals, having sex with each other right in public. The Mexican boy reflected that it was in the back of that old smoke-belching pickup truck that he first learned what being a slave was really like.

Now, delivered to the front of his former owner's mansion, he saw through his tiny viewing hole the most magnificent car he had ever seen, complete with a strikingly handsome chauffeur fitted out with a shiny silver collar, matching tit rings, and a pair of the tightest pants he had ever seen on a person (which left nothing to the imagination of what lay underneath those pants). The slave chauffeur even had shoes and socks!

The chauffeur was standing rigidly upright beside an opened back door to the limousine revealing its upholstery inside - an unusual thin leather, almost translucent, covered with what looked like hair on a human chest or back. When the Mexican spotted a slave brand on the upholstered back door open for his inspection, he drew in his breathe as he suddenly realized how the car had been upholstered - it was the skin of slaves, just like himself, except exceptionally hairy specimens and obviously kept unshaven. Never had he heard slaves' skins were used in this fashion; never had he heard even the idea of such a thing. No one in Mexico had anything made of slave skin - no book covers, no wallets, no lamp shades, no writing mats, nothing he had ever heard of. He felt the bile rising in his throat as he wondered what sort of monster he had just been sold to. Was he to be the next door panel on the fancy car?

Back in the slave pens of the auction house in rural Mexico, he knew all the merchandise there were praying to get a Mexican owner in that they said Americans made bad masters and mistresses. But he always thought they were talking about fucking them for their jollies, not skinning them for their hides. He shivered as he pondered his future. His new master had fucked him thoroughly but not savagely and nothing he did seemed to be to induce deliberate pain in the slave just for pain's sake. Instead, any actions on his part seemed only to increase the amount of pleasure he was receiving in fucking this new plaything. But now that he was the property of this man, would his true nature emerge? He hoped he had been purchased to fuck, as he had originally thought, and, if so, he would make damn sure he offered up the best fuck the master had ever experienced. As long as he could do that, surely he would avoid being skinned just for his smooth flawless amber hide.

The fearful Mexican slave didn't realize that this was exactly the message Master Holgate wanted to give his slaves when they viewed (or even heard about) the interior of his car. The thought of being skinned alive kept even the most recalcitrant slaves well in line and Holgate slaves were renown for their instant obedience, their complete subservience, and their need for little external discipline. Just why slaves always assumed their hides would be stripped from their bodies while they were still alive always amused David Holgate. But why correct this misinterpretation of events if it served his purpose. Only Driver seemed to know the truth of it and he seemed to enjoy the deception common among the Holgate slaves. David had only heard Driver tell other people's slaves that the hides were harvested from dead slaves, but, of course, Driver never really explained whether the slaves were dead before the hide removal or after.

The DuPree slaves gathered some distance away to view the car disappeared back to their work stations the minute they saw anyone approaching from the mansion itself, in this case the slaves carrying the metal cage and the visiting Master himself leading a huge collared black out by a leash connected to his genitals. Their own master, Master DuPree, brought up the rear of the assemblage.

"Driver, put the caged slave in the trunk," Master Holgate ordered.

Instantly, Driver broke his rigid stance by the Maybach's rear door and pushed a button on his key fob which opened the truck electrically. He peered inside the cage and he and two of the DePree slaves lifted the Mexican boy into the truck. Driver saw the boy's face fastened by his nose ring close to the cage door and was instantly turned on with his bright blue eyes and amber skin. His erection grew noticeably in the revealing spandex pants as he lowered the trunk lid and the two DePree slaves returned to their house stations.

"Looks like you fancy the new slave, Driver," Master Holgate laughed as he squeezed Driver's swollen genitals through the thin mesh of his spandex pants as he entered the car where, again, his chauffeur was at rigid attention by the car's open door. "Well, keep dreaming, Driver. I may let you fuck him someday as a special reward."

"Yes, master. Thank you, master," Driver said humbly.

A few of the DuPree slaves doing yard work nearby overheard the visiting master telling his slave chauffeur he might be allowed to fuck one of the recently purchased DuPree slaves at some future time. Such thoughtfulness and generosity on the part of a master was unprecedented in the DuPree household and they marveled at such a charitable attitude on the part of a master. They reflected, with some envy, on the good fortune of the two DuPree slaves being loaded into the limousine who, apparently, had just been sold to this new owner.

The young Mexican slave locked in the dark trunk overheard the conversation and visualized the handsome chauffeur, his sleek muscular body, and his tight, tight pants once again. If he was going to be fucked, and he knew that was his main role now, he'd rather be fucked by the handsome chauffeur than anyone else he could think of right now. Besides, from the look of the chauffeur's hard-on, the poor slave apparently didn't get to fuck anyone much - he looked like he was about to burst out of his pants he was so needy.

After Master Holgate was in the car, there was the question of where to put the naked black slave, leashed by his genitals.

"Master, do you want the black boy on the floor of the rear compartment with you, or should I put him in the trunk also, or should I put him up front with me, Master?" Driver asked.

"There's no room in the trunk as you well know, Driver, so put him on the floor back here with me. I'm too tuckered out to have him suck me off again, but at least I can play with his tits on the return home."

Driver pulled on the black slave's genital leash and soon had the huge black kneeling on the floor of the rear compartment positioning him where the slave's tits were within easy range of his master's hands.

Soon the Maybach was speeding down the highway. Master Holgate was busy playing with the black slave's tits in the back compartment, but soon got bored with that and repositioned the slave so he could fondle the black's huge genitals, now fully erect from the heavy tit play. Before long, Master Holgate decided he'd like a little snack and milked the black into a crystal cup obtained from the Maybach's built-in bar. Once the cup was filled (with the black panting from his voluminous discharge), David Holgate shoved the black's head to the floor and rearranged himself in the luxurious seat as he sipped the steaming hot cum, reflecting on how tasty his new purchase's milk was. He smiled as how he thought the black gave out cum as well as he took it in and wondered if the more cum you have a slave swallow, the more you got when you milked him. He'd have to ask his stewards about that - perhaps they could run a little experiment with some of the slaves under their charge.

Once they were back at the Holgate mansion, Driver took the caged Mexican slave to the mansion's slave maintenance center where Master Holgate had phoned in his instructions. The new purchase was promptly branded on his left ass cheek with the Holgate ownership crest, had his new name of "Aztec" branded into his upper right shoulder as well as in the middle of his upper back, and then was fitted with tit rings, a thick genital band, and a new heavy "high" collar which forced the Mexican boy's head straight up at all times - so he could never bend his head down again as long as that collar was in place. The slave's prominent nose ring stayed in place for leashing purposes. By the time the Mexican had been "processed," there was no mistaking him ever again for what he was - a slave. He now looked like a slave and no matter whether he had a few clothes on him or not, everyone would know he was a slave by his nose ring and his unmistakable slave collar. Once he was stripped to a slave's normal complete nakedness, the deep-set brands and rings broadcast he was owned property. There would be no need to ever worry again about him passing himself off as a "free" Mexican. He was marked for life as owned livestock, an animal labeled "Aztec," and, right now, a property primarily devoted to delivering a phenomenal fuck.

As Aztec lay in his cage recovering from the lacerations through his tits and the deep burns left by the brands, he wept, knowing there was now no chance ever of returning to the quiet Mexican village life he had once known. From now on, he would be no different than any of the many slave boys he had seen around ever since he could remember, all owned by rich men and all, if halfway decent looking, put to their owners' pleasure at every opportunity. All of them were fitted out much as he was now - the heavy collar, the rings in their tits, the heavy band forcing their genitals to a prominent display at all times, and marked with various ownership labels of one type or another - tags through their ears, rings through their noses, brands on their chest or butt (or often both), or collars with their owner's name inscribed (usually offering a nice reward if the slave had strayed away). And, he remembered, every slave he had ever seen was kept totally naked - that alone denoted a slave's status. He even remembered in the church on Sunday there would be naked slaves on leashes accompanying their master or mistress; it was hard to shop for anything without seeing naked collared slaves scurrying around; and every municipal event featured naked slaves everywhere kneeling beside their owner. And, he shuttered, slaves were sexually used right in public - ordered to fuck their mistress in public parties; fucked by their masters right on the street; sucking off their masters beneath a bar while their owner treated himself to a cool beer; etc. That was in Mexico. Here in the U.S., he didn't know, but, from what he had overheard so far, gringos had many more slaves at their disposal; used them with no inhibitions whatsoever; and certainly used slaves to keep them sexually satisfied, even in public.

When one of the handlers came to his cage with food and water, Aztec dared ask the other slave whether gringo masters used their slaves for sex.

"Are you kidding?" the handsome Greek man laughed. "Around here, that's the main job. You're lucky to belong to Master Holgate. Most slaves end up processing the sewage, building the roads, working the assembly lines. We Holgate slaves, like you are now, are noted for our good looks, our nice bodies, and our good sex training. Soon as you heal up, you'll fit right in - you're one damn good- looking boy. Where are you from anyway? You look like some weird Indian or something with those blue eyes and amber skin."

"I'm from Mexico," Aztec responded with a little moan as his upper brand started to hurt again.

"What does this 'Aztec' mean branded all over you?" the Greek slave asked.

"After the slave catchers caught me, they sold me off as a pure-blood Aztec, one of the noble peoples of central Mexico many centuries ago. But I don't know whether that's true or not, sir," Aztec replied.

The Greek laughed. "First, I'm no sir, slave. I'm a slave just like you and here for the same purpose primarily - warming someone bed's anytime they take a fancy to me. Second, you're not bred to service from your saying you were captured by slave catchers. Same with me. I was free until I was 16, but my parents died and the police sold me off to a foreign dealer. Greece doesn't look on the expense of raising orphans as a good investment - selling them off as slaves is much more profitable, so here I am. There's a lot of bred slaves around here in the Holgate holdings, but a good number of us were once free. Not that it makes much difference one way or the other. We have to be 'broken' to slavery initially as they put it and the bred's don't - they don't know any different. But within a few months, you can't tell a bred slave from a once-free one. We all jump when we're told to jump; we all bare our butt hole and an open mouth when that's what they want; we all fuck just like a mistress wants it; and we all stand in proper position whenever anyone wants to fondle us. In this household, you're primarily a whore, but we do a lot of other things too - keep the place spotless, tend the gardens, polish the cars, cook and serve the food, do the laundry - all the basic household chores. But our main function is to offer up our bodies whenever they want, doing whatever they want, and making sure they're damn satisfied with us working our bodies for their pleasure. Do all that, and it's not a bad place for a slave. Sure bets some other things I've seen slaves bought to do."

Aztec turned to one side in his cage and saw the Greek had a huge hard-on as he described his basic duties.

"Before you eat your chow, I'm getting you out of your cage and giving you an enema. Your cage reeks of shit and piss if you haven't noticed and, after we get your ass all cleaned out, you need to get yourself in the shower and clean up a bit while I clean out your cage. Then I'll put some antiseptic on your brands and where they ringed you and some soothing lubricant under your new collar and genital band so it won't chaff until you callous properly. Once you're all fresh, I'll teach you how to body shave yourself because Master Holgate wants you as smooth as he keeps me round the clock. I'd sure like to fuck you after you're all smooth again, but we're not allowed to fuck each other without the Master's permission," the extremely masculine Greek slave said. "Hell, we can't even touch ourselves without his permission," he joked, "let alone fuck something or other on our own."

"You may get a chance," Aztec said contritely, already taking a liking to the kind and considerate slave Greek slave handler. "Master Holgate told the slave Driver he could fuck me sometime as a reward."

"Hmm," the Greek said soberly. "If Driver gets your ass, I don't see why I can't maneuver it somehow or other."

"Work on it...... what's your slave name, anyway?" Aztec asked. "I can't see you well enough in this cage to read it if its branded onto your body somewhere."

"El Greco," the Greek said. "It means 'The Greek' according to the master and there was a famous Greek painter by that name who lived in Spain. Once you're out of that cage, you'll see it branded on me front and back, just like your new name 'Aztec'."

"Well, El Greco, as I was saying, work on getting the master's permission to fuck me. From the part of you I can see, you're about as good looking as men get. And your shaft almost makes me jealous. It might feel real good up my ass."

With that, Aztec was taken out of his cage and saw all of El Greco. He was even better looking in total than just seeing parts of him. El Greco led him down to the showers, bent him over for the insertion of the enema hose, and, once that was completed, left him to shower in the cold water and crude soap provided in the slave quarters while he cleaned out Aztec's cage. When he returned, he very gently applied an antibiotic cream to Aztec's raw brands and still bleeding swollen tits, rubbed some soothing lotion under Aztec's tight fitting genital ring and under his even tighter fitting neck collar and checked to make sure Aztec wasn't infected in either his burns or his pierced tits. He then showed Aztec how to body shave himself in all areas below his eyebrows and then oiled Aztec's body until it gleamed.

"You're a handsome boy, you know, Aztec," the Greek commented. "I can see why Master Holgate bought you. And you're hung as heavy as a damn horse. Are all Mexican slaves that way?" he inquired.

"No," Aztec laughed. "But those of us that are sell at a premium price."

"Same as in Greece," El Greco chuckled, as he thrust his huge erect organ out for Aztec to appreciate. "Premium," he added with an engaging smile as he looked down at his own banded manhood. "God, I'd like to stick this up that ass of yours," the Greek slave moaned. "But they'd whip me to death if I even got this thing one inch up you, let alone fuck you properly."

"Work on it," Aztec said with a smile. "When you get permission from the master, you're not going to get any resistance from this slaveboy," he smirked.

With that, Aztec was put back in his cage to enjoy his slave chow and complete his healing process and El Greco continued with caring for the other slaves currently being penned.

Many levels above them, Master Holgate was busily fucking the newly purchased black slave who had been chained to a fucking bench in his bedroom for his convenience. Although the black slave had been purchased primarily for his well trained mouth and throat, he was a delight to fuck as well - not as good as the Mexican slave purchased along with him - but a damn good fuck anyway. The black had been well trained - he tightened and loosened his ass appropriately to maximize his user's pleasure, he moaned appreciatively as he was pumped long and hard, and he expressed grateful thanks to his user the minute his master had withdrawn from his ass and he had finished cleaning off his master's tool.

"You're a keeper, boy," Master Holgate said as he slapped the black slave's ass in dismissal. "Now that you're finally learned to orally service a master properly, I'm glad to see you also picked up some solid skill in pleasuring with your ass."

"Thank you, master," the black said, still fastened by the manacles on his wrists and ankles to the fucking bench. Cum was flowing out of his ass and down his thighs.

The black remained chained to the fucking bench for the next three hours until the house steward made his rounds and unleashed him with orders to go down to the slave quarters and clean himself up. When the black, stiff from the prolonged chained position, stood up, he was temporarily dizzy from having his head down below his ass for so long, but quickly regained his equilibrium and trotted down for the obligatory enema, shower, and body oiling. Once that was done, the handler informed him he was scheduled to entertain one of Master Holgate's business associates that night and he better make sure his user gave a superlative report on his cooperation the next morning or he'd be on short rations for a month.

The black slave assured the handler there would be no problem and assumed this was to be his life from now on. That slave was dead right!

The business associate given the black slave for the night was a woman well in her fifties, fat, and unattractive. She too was black and generally preferred stud slaves of her own color who sported exceptionally long, thick penises which were easy to arouse and stayed hard once aroused. The black slave quickly brought her to orgasm with the skillful use of his mouth and then, on her demand, fucked her through a series of subsequent orgasms. After several hours of heavy heaving and pumping (all the time carefully controlling himself from discharging so he didn't lose his ardor), the black slave was finally allowed to sleep alongside his temporary mistress. When morning came, he again brought her to orgasm with his trained tongue. The matronly woman gave a glowing report of the assigned slave's sexual skills to his handler and the black slave got full rations the next day.

Life with this new owner would be nothing he couldn't handle if the past 24 hours had been a sample - only fucked twice, milked once, a few loads down his throat, some heavy licking, four or five times in the saddle humping away (under explicit move-by-move instructions), and, oh, he almost forgot, having his tits and balls played with for a while. Not bad for a slave bought for the use of his body - not bad at all!

But the black slave didn't know he was to receive a name from his new master, "Sucker." This slave label was to be branded into him just like his Holgate ownership mark and the branding was scheduled for that very day.