Willing Slave

THE WILLING SLAVE, Part 17

By Pete Brown petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

Read all of Pete's stories at groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories

The vet came and stood outside the cell door, and looked in at me. I was in a terrible state, I guess - as well as being naked (although I was used to stripping off in front of the vet, of course), the bit was effectively gagging me, and my already decorated body had been "enhanced" by the rows of ugly scabs that spread all across my back, ass and thighs from my cruel whipping. But I suppose what was probably most shocking was that I no longer looked like the gentle, contented pony that he was used to seeing - the sheer unfairness of my treatment, and the worry about what was going to happen to me, had made my whole posture change and I knew I looked very angry and upset: I no longer had the calm, assured, subservient pose of the well-trained slave.

"You've properly fucked it all up, haven't you, Steve?", he said. "I really don't understand it - I've known you for - what - over five years, and you came here for regular check-ups and so on. You were always the model of a perfectly behaved pony, and now I read in the court papers authorising me to geld you that you are wilful, disobedient, and beat up and rape other slaves. It's as if it's all describing some other Steve, not the one I know!"

"Still, the law is the law, and the judge has properly authorised me to cut your balls off. He heard all the evidence, so it must be right. What a pity! Even though I can give your owner drugs to keep your body in fine tone, your whole look will be totally ruined when those low hangers of yours are no longer there. And those slaves you evidently like to have sex with will be disappointed, as there'll be no more big streams of cum shooting out of you..."

He went to walk away, and I tried to say something, to explain. But the vile bit, and the plate with the sharp spikes in it that kept my tongue depressed on the floor of my mouth, stopped me. I kicked out at the gate of my cell, in frustration.

The vet looked at me, and half shrugged. "Yes, you certainly have changed. The Steve I knew would never have done something like that. Well, you will be calmer after tomorrow, I promise you that. Once all that male testosterone has stopped circulating, you'll be altogether gentler."

He went to walk away again, then stopped. He looked at me in amazement. Was it tears of frustration, or tears of self pity for the way that I was no longer considered to be a proper slave that I found myself involuntarily shedding? I felt the tiny drops roll down my cheeks, and, to this day, I'll never know really what caused it to happen. I'm a mature, tough guy after all, and I hadn't cried since I was about nine!

"Hey, Steve..... What's the matter? Look, don't worry.... It's not going to hurt you. Not like when I had to do some of the stuff that your young owner ordered. This state has got humane laws governing slave punishment - it's a condition of my licence to operate as an approved state slave vet that I have to take all reasonable measures to prevent you suffering. So I'll anaesthetise all your genitals before I slice your sac off tomorrow, you won't feel the scalpel, or the electric cauteriser to stop the bleeding, or the needle when I stitch you up where your sac used to be.... And when you're recovering, I'll give you pain killers. So don't worry, boy, I'll look after you properly."

I shook my head, as that was all I could do to try to indicate that that wasn't what was really worrying me - after all, even though it might hurt like hell, I'd been hurt before.

"What's the matter, Steve? Is there something else bothering you?"

I nodded, vigorously.

"Well, I suppose I could stand here all day trying to guess what it is. I suppose I could take that bit out of your mouth - I don't really like the idea of having you kept like that anyway, and with you being cuffed, and it will be a hell of a lot more work for me if I have to feed you by hand and so on. You used to be a good, reliable, well-trained, trustworthy slave.... Can I trust you again?"

I nodded, very vigorously.

"OK, then. Kneel, and let me go and get the key for your bit....."

I knelt there on the hard concrete floor, so glad that again someone was treating me like the proper slave I was, and not like an untrained wild animal. He came back and actually trusted me enough to open the cell door and come in, before starting to fiddle with the lock holding the straps behind my head.

Then my mouth was free, as he held the bit and it's spiked plate out in front of me.

"Oh sir, thank you, sir...."

I carried on kneeling in front of him, and couldn't help noticing that he seemed to be erect - either he had a massive dick all the time, or what was straining the front of his smart grey slacks was as a result of being aroused.

"OK, Steve. On your feet. Can I trust you to behave if I take those cuffs off you?"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

And then my hands were free, and I was just totally naked in front of him.

He took a step back, and his eyes raked my naked body.

He seemed to be struggling with himself to make some decision, and then he stepped forward, and reached down and took hold of my dick.

As first I thought it was just so that he could do a professional inspection, but it soon became apparent that the way his fingers were fondling me meant something more. He stepped closer, still holding my dick, and placed the palm of his other hand over one of my tits, letting his fingers play gently with the hair covering my pecs. I could feel his hot breath rustling on my neck, he was so close, and I started to react - I felt my erection building, and a mounting excitement started to increase my breathing, to cause me to start to gently sweat, and to dilate my pupils and flare my nostrils as if I was getting ready for sex.

My brain was racing away - what the fuck was happening? Surely the vet didn't want to have sex with me, did he? I knew from my previous visits that he was married, as I had seen his wife around his office, and so what he was doing must be some sort of test, a test to see if I could exercise self control.

Actually the vet wasn't a bad looking guy - I judged him to be about the same age as me, or possibly just a little older. We were about the same height, and he wasn't in bad shape for a man who didn't do hard physical work as I did. As these thoughts went through me another part of my brain was saying "What are you doing, Steve? This is a master, a free man. The vet who's been treating you for years. The guy who's going to de-nut you tomorrow. And now you're sizing him us as if he's someone you're going to have sex with. Cut it out, before you get into more trouble...."

But this rational part of my brain was completely overruled my more primitive instincts - I felt my dick go rock solid and my nipples stiffen under his gentle stroking, and heard him whisper a low, appreciative sigh as he felt these signs of my arousal. As you do, without thinking about it I too reached down and cupped my hand around his crotch - through the wool of his slacks I could now feel that what I'd seen was indeed a mighty erection. I put my other arm around him, and gently pulled him closer to me.

He now reacted by taking his hand off my tit, and putting it behind my back to complete the hug, and at the same time he moved his face closer to mine and went to kiss me. But as his hand touched my back an incredible shooting pain went through me as his fingers hit some of the scabs that were covering my lacerated flesh. Involuntarily I jerked back, and gave a yelp of pain.

"Oh, Steve... I'm sorry.... I forgot.... That brutal whipping they told me you had....."

I went to say something, but he went on "Shush.... I think you liked what I was doing ,didn't you?".

I nodded, and he moved back closer to me again, put both hands behind my head, pulled me towards him and kissed me firmly on the lips. I stood there almost paralysed, as I didn't know what to do - when I'd been with a free man before they had simply used me. Was I supposed to respond to this gentleness, or should I wait for him to command me, or force me in some way? I felt his tongue pressing at me, and then it all seemed so right - I opened my mouth slightly and his hot, wet tongue thrust its way in and started to probe around.

It was one of the best sensations I'd ever felt - as he kept me pulled tight towards him he carried on kissing me deeply, and I found that, perfectly naturally, I was responding, my tongue probing for his, and our breath forcing itself in and out in synchronisation.

I could feel my naked dick scraping all over the fabric of his slacks, and it was starting to drive me wild, especially when my sensitive spot on the underside of my dick head rasped against the covering over his zipper.

Although he was holding my head, my hands were free and I reached down, cupped his dick and balls in my hand, and squeezed gently through the fabric. My other hand went around his waist, and I pushed my fingers down below his belt and rested my finger tips in the warm moistness a the top of his ass crack, and scratched gently at it.

He pulled away, and I thought I'd gone too far, but it was only so that he could desperately fumble with the buckle on his belt, unzip his zipper, and try to push his slacks down to the floor. I guess that if I'd been mores experienced I'd have know that I could have done this and heightened the excitement for both of us, but I had no real practice in voluntary sex with a guy wearing proper clothes, and all I could do was stand there.

He started to kiss me again, but now I could push my hand in through the fly of his boxers and actually feel his hot, hard dick and warm, sensuous balls in my palm. It was as if I was on some sort of predefined programme, too, as quite reflexively my other hand cupped one of his ass cheeks and pulled him slightly upwards and inwards towards me.

We broke off kissing for a moment, and he bent down and kicked his shoes off and almost trampled his slacks into the floor in his eagerness to get them off his legs. His boxers followed, and he came back towards me, and he started kissing me again. I took his hard dick in my hand, laid it alongside mine so that I could feel the heat of his organ all along the length of mine, and then gently ran my work-calloused hands up and down both shafts simultaneously. His body started to squirm gently under this teasing, and his polo shirt rubbed against my bare chest, and nudged at the rings in my tits, causing me in turn to get the shooting excitement that you do when your nips are being teased like this.

He pulled away a little, looked squarely at me, and said "Oh, Steve.... Get on your knees again, and take my dick in your mouth...."

Well, I wasn't really sure that I'd normally do that - as I've told you, I am by nature an aggressive, dominant top, and it really should have been me ordering him to his knees and taking my dick in his mouth! But he was a master, I remembered. And, anyway, I was quite turned on by the way he'd been kissing me, and I had tasted dick before, after all. So I fell to my knees, put my strong arms around his naked ass and gently pulled him towards me, reaching out with my lips and tongue to gently guide the end of his dick into my mouth.

I got that heady taste of dick - that mixture of the special sort of dried sweat you seem to find in the groin area, overlaid with the faint odour of piss and that indefinable "something else": probably pre-cum. The vet moaned, and as I began to nibble gently at his cock head and tease his piss slit with the tip of my tongue. I definitely got that special taste of pre-cum then: the vet was really turned on.

He pulled me gently to my feet as he wanted to keep on kissing, and I again took his dick in my hand and started to stroke it gently alongside my own. But as I did this, my excitement started to mount. I wanted sex again. My dick needed the sensation of an ass around it, and, I suppose, I wanted to have one last experience of proper sex before I was de-nutted.

So as I continued to stroke his dick, I used my other hand to probe his hole, and as I did so his body reacted by pulling itself closer to me, as if we were trying to become one piece of manflesh. He was moaning gently in ecstasy, too, and so I got bolder, and pushed my finger deeper in to his moist recess.

As he made no attempt to stop me, I gently walked us backwards into the cell, then put one of my legs behind his and slowly toppled him back so that we were on the narrow bunk. I pulled away from him, pushed his legs apart and knelt between them, and started a more vigorous massage of his hole, lubing my fingers copiously with my spit and putting two, and then three, into him.

He didn't stop me, and so I pointed the end of my dick at his hole, and pushed, gently. And then harder. And harder, until I was in him. Now I lifted his legs onto my shoulders, and began to fuck him, at first gently, and then, as my passion increased, ever more vigorously. I didn't care any more about being a slave who was going to lose his manhood - I was just living for the moment, enjoying the feel of my dick pistoning in and out of his ass, and the incredible sensation of being totally in control, of totally dominating the man under me. I didn't care about whether he was enjoying it or not, as all that mattered was that my dick was satisfied.

He was making cries and moans in time to my thrusts, and I was concerned in case someone would hear and come and stop me, but fortunately I was on such an edge that it took only a very short time for me to cum, and I collapsed forward on to him, enjoying the feel of his sweaty chest against mine.

He was lying there silent now, his head tossed to one side and his eyes closed. I began to get scared, as I thought he'd be cross that I'd gone all the way with him like that without being under his orders, and would order some even more dreadful punishment. Tentatively, I said "Sir..... Sir......."

"Mmmmmm, yes, Steve?"

"Sir, I'm sorry, sir, it's just....."

"Sorry for what?"

"Sir, I'm a slave, sir.... And I fucked you, sir... You didn't fuck me, as masters do, sir. I'm sorry, sir, I lost it again.... As soon as I started to have sex, I just couldn't stop, and I just had to fuck you, sir. But it's the last time, sir, isn't it, as you're going to take my balls off tomorrow. So please don't order me to be whipped again, sir...."

He gave a kind of laugh, looked up at me as I stared down at him, and half whispered "Poor Steve! How little you really know about sex, and what a pity you were never taught. Look, some guys, like you, are naturally dominant. You just have to be in control, when you're having sex. I'm a master, and it's always assumed that masters have to control slaves, and so when I take a slave for sex, I end up giving the orders and making the running. But just as you are naturally dominant, some free men are naturally passive and like someone else to make all the decisions...... I suppose I'm like that, deep down, and have to bend my natural inclinations when I have sex with a slave. So it was fantastic for me to have you just take control- that's what I always want, secretly, and most of the time I have to pretend otherwise. Actually, I think that most men are like that - they have to pretend to be in control for social reasons, but secretly they long to be dominated and controlled, just as you did to me."

I listened to him, and only half understood. He seemed to be saying that a master should not always order a slave around, and that seemed to be contrary to the natural order of things. Still, it looked as if I wasn't going to be whipped again, so if that made him happy, so much the better.

"Now get that gorgeous body of yours off me", he continued. "I've got to get back to my wife, before she comes in and finds me like this...."

I did as I was told, and stood there, hands by my side, looking passively on as he scrambled back into his clothes, and ran his fingers through his hair to make it look tidy again.

"Have some slave chow, Steve, and lie and rest to give your back a chance to go on recovering. Look, I know you're a good slave at heart, and I hate having to lock slaves up. Can I trust you to stay in this cell?"

"Sir, yes, sir, of course....". After all, where could I run to? There was no hiding place for a slave, was there?

He was smiling to himself as he walked off, and I lay there, thinking of what had gone on. Did he mean that I couldn't help wanting to fuck guys, as that was my nature? And if so, wasn't it even more unfair that I was being castrated because I'd fucked Jack? And why did he like being fucked so much, especially as he was a married man? In spite of all this, though, my thoughts kept coming back to what was going to happen to me tomorrow - even though he'd said it wasn't going to hurt me, I just dreaded it. For one thing, if it was in my nature to want to fuck guys, wasn't my whole personality going to be changed? Would I end up as a totally different person? Still, there didn't seem to be anything I could do about it, and as I lay there I drifted in and out of sleep, trying to make sense of the world that I previously thought I knew so well.

A noise in my cell woke me up some time later, and I judged it must be in the middle of the night, as it was almost pitch dark. There was only a faint illumination from a quarter noon, filtering in through the cell window (in these energy scarce times, there were no longer lights blazing everywhere).

I heard a voice saying "Steve....", and I sat up. I recognise s the shape of the vet standing in front of me, and I could just see that he was wearing a loose T and shorts, as many masters wore in bed (I'd seen my bothers, and my dad, wearing similar things). I stood up at once, of course, in the presence of a master, and as I did so he dropped to his knees in front of me, put his arms around my ass to hold himself close to me, and started to lick and suck at my dick!

He was rambling on, saying "Oh yes, Steve.... I want your dick.... Let me taste it, Steve.... Mmmmm...", and as his mouth closed around me and his tongue started to tease my dick head I of course had an erection. He was sucking away at me, and I felt really aroused, so put my hands on either side of his head and started to "help" him take my dick in and out of his mouth.

Look, when your dick is being sucked, you want the most pleasure you can get, don't you? And whilst having the end nibbled, the piss slit teased, and the first couple of inches sucked and surrounded by a hot mouth is OK, you really want to feel the power you get when the whole of your dick is down the throat of another guy, don't you? I held his head an gently tried to coax him further and further down on me - I wanted to feel his nose pushed right into my pubic hair and the back of his throat massaging my dick head - but he seemed unwilling. I felt resistance, and so I "encouraged" him more. His "mmmssss" of pleasure turned to gasps, then coughs, then, as I persisted - or do I mean "insisted" that he take all my dick in, he started to gag and choke.

It was so exciting to hear his body reacting like this, and his hands started to flail at me to try to get me to let go, but this only excited me more. I pushed his head off and on me, easily overcoming his feeble resistance, and felt the hotness of his mouth and the softness of his throat covering my dick completely. He was really choking and making a terrible noise now, so I pulled out completely as it was spoiling my pleasure somewhat, and pushed him backwards.

He sat there looking up at me, still choking and spluttering. I felt my dick, and it was coated totally with his throat slime - it felt hot and sticky in my hand, and it just served to excite me more. I went to put it back in his mouth as I needed to fuck his throat until I'd cum, but he moaned "No.... It hurts... No, don't...."

I totally forgot I was a slave, and just snapped "Well, if you don't want my dick down your throat again, you'd better get on your hands and knees and spread your legs... My dick needs relief.... And I'll fuck your hole instead."

He turned around, and knelt there before me. I reached out and ripped his shorts down to expose his ass, and hissed "Get your shoulders right down, so I've got a clear run at your hole...."

He didn't deserve any gentle treatment for interrupting my pleasure, and fortunately, I suppose, my dick was well lubed with his slime. So I just knelt there behind him, and went to push my dick at him. But as I did so he almost closed his knees together and clenched his ass tight to make it all but impossible to make my way in. I was furious - he was trying to prevent me from taking him!

I slapped his ass very hard, twice on each cheek. I'm very powerful, and the slaps ricoched around the cell like a drum roll. He squealed, and somehow that made it even more exciting.

"Open your legs, fucker!", I snapped, "Else there'll be more than that."

I guided my dick head at his exposed sphincter, and started to push. He bent forward, then tried to shuffle his knees away from me, as if to stop me. So I reached down under him and grabbed his dick and balls, and squeezed them - not really hard, just enough to let him know that if he didn't co-operate there'd be a hell of a lot of pain for him. Then I rammed forward, he gave a harsh cry, and I was in.

Once you've got a guy impaled on your dick and you're holding his balls, there's not much he can do, is there? I started to fuck him, hard, pulling back until my dick head almost popped out, then slamming my whole length into him so that there was that wonderful "slap" as my belly collided with his ass. He shouted out on each thrust, begging me to stop, telling me he was hurting, saying he couldn't take any more... But I didn't care. I wasn't interested in his comfort, only in the huge high I was getting from dominating and controlling this man utterly. His cries only added to my pleasure, and I marvelled at the way that a simple action of my dick in his ass could make him cry out, and cause his body to spasm under me. He was no longer a master, someone who was going to un-man me tomorrow: he was just a pleasure object, a hole to be filled, something to wrap itself around my dick to give me sexual satisfaction.

I fucked harder and harder and faster and faster, and I could feel my heart racing and my breath coming in quick, harsh pants in time to my fucking. His noise was almost continuous, as he begged and pleaded for me to stop, and I thought about smashing his head down onto the mattress to shut him up. But my passion was too great, and all I could do was to continue to ride him until I too gave a great shout - that cry of passion you make when you finally start to shoot your load up an ass.

I had to stop then, of course, as I'm so sensitive once I've started to shoot, although I forced myself in and out a couple more times to give myself that exquisite pleasure you get when your dick is going through the pain barrier. Then it was all over, and I roughly pulled at his knees to force him flat onto the bed, so I could collapse on to him and savour the feeling of having his body totally crushed under mine whilst my dick was still buried in him up to the hilt.

We lay there, both unable to speak for a couple of minutes. As I realised what I'd done I started to panic - now what the fuck was going to happen to me? Taking my balls surely wouldn't be enough! Now he knew how violent I could be he'd almost certainly go back to the Court and demand to be allowed to cut my dick off, too, wouldn't he?

Then I heard him say, in a very quiet voice, "Thanks, Steve.... That was a-fucking-mazing!"

"Sir, I'm sorry... I should have stopped when you told me to... I just got carried away...."

"No, Steve. You gave me the best fuck I've ever had. I'll be sore for days, but will remember it for weeks.

But let me get up, though, before you crush the life out of me - all that muscle of yours weighs heavy."

I gently pulled my dick out, and sprang to my feet, then knelt beside him. He turned over on to his back, looked at me, and saw me looking very worried.

"What's the problem, Steve?"

"Sir... I'm sorry... I should have stopped when you said.... "

"No, Steve! Didn't you learn anything at all about sex at that fancy pony training place they tell me you went to?"

"Sir, no, sir. We were just trained as ponies, and that took all the time. It wasn't thought that a master would want to fuck with a pony boy, sir."

"Well, it just shows what they're missing. You're one great fucker, you know, Steve. And that dick of yours would please any guy."

"Look", he went on, "A lot of guys think they don't want to take a dick up their asses. Or they do want to take a dick up their ass, but don't like to admit it as there's some sort of guilt hangover to the twentieth century when it was thought that men fucking men was somehow wrong. So when you start to enter them, they start to protest, but you just have to ignore it - they want to take it really, and you just press on. They get a bigger thrill out of it by shouting 'no', even though they really mean 'yes'."

"Sir, so what about men who really don't want to be fucked, sir? How do you tell?"

"It's simple, Steve. All men secretly want to be fucked, so if you're naked with them and manage to get yourself positioned so that you can get your dick in, it's OK."

"Sir, I'm sorry to disagree, sir... I really hate being fucked.... But my owner and Master Scott did it to me anyway..."

"Steve, I'm talking about men! Men who don't want to be fucked don't get naked with other men. If they are, then they want it if you can manage to do it - even men who call themselves 'tops' really enjoy taking it occasionally. It's different in your case - you're a slave, so you don't count: your master told you to get naked, then to take his dick, and you properly obeyed him."

"Now", he went on, "I've got to go... In case my wife wakes up and finds me not in bed with her. She'll worry."

"Sir.... Forgive me, sir.... But you're going back to bed with your wife?"

"Of course I am! She's my wife! Look, Steve, there's something else you don't seem to realise - even men who fuck women enjoy sex with other men, you know. Especially when it's with a fantastic piece of man flesh like you. Who wouldn't enjoy feeling your body, and taking that dick. In fact, so-called 'straight' men often protest the loudest when a dick first goes up them, but they want it really."

With that he got up, kissed me, and left me. I fell back onto my bunk, thinking to myself how there was a lot more to learn about sex than I'd ever get a chance to.

End Of Part 17

THE WILLING SLAVE, Part 18

By Pete Brown petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

Read all of Pete's stories at groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories

I hadn't expected to sleep much that night, with the worry of what was going to happen to me. But after the fantastic fuck I'd had my body kind of took over from my brain, and I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. In the morning I was really surprised to find that I woke up feeling great - I lay there and saw the sunshine coming in through the window of my cell, and for a few moments I felt great. I stretched my muscles in that way you do when you're looking forward to a great day, and even the pain from my whip scabs seemed mostly to have gone away. I played with my dick a bit, enjoying the feel of my morning hard-on in my hand, and then I remembered the fuck I'd had the night before, and almost shot a load. Unfortunately I was then thinking about the previous night, and at once, like a great black cloud, came the realisation of what was about to happen to me. My mood went from one of general happiness and rightness with the world to almost black despair, in an instant.

Oh Christ - this was the last day of my life as a man.

As soon as the vet had his operation room ready, I didn't doubt that he'd order me in there and execute the Court's order to de-nut me. I lay there, and all my desire to get up and face the excitement of a new day faded. I thought about giving my dick one last chance to shoot, but my depression was so extreme that my erection had faded, and no amount of coaxing and playing with it seemed to be able to revive it.

There was a lot of noise outside my window, and I dragged myself up to take a look. There in the yard was one of the local taxi services - a couple of very ordinary pony slaves pulling one of the hack carts that you could call out if you weren't rich enough to own a trap of your own. They always worked in pairs as often these taxis had to carry a couple of passengers, or heavy luggage, and they sometimes had to do quite high mileage every day. I suppose it was nice for the ponies to have a companion they always worked with - well, at least if they got on together, otherwise being between the shafts of a trap all day and every day with someone you didn't like must be pretty grim. These two seemed to be pretty friendly, though, as they stood there in the bright morning sunlight chatting to each other and even laughing - it was their arrival and this noise that I'd heard, and it only made me feel more depressed: they were laughing and chatting without a care in the world, and were doing a good, valuable job. And me..... Well!

As I watched, the vet came out of his house, said something to the ponies, got into the trap, and they ran off. What on earth was going on, I wondered - why was he leaving? Still, it meant I had more time as a man, I suppose.

Look, I'm not one to mope normally, and you know I work hard and try to do my best. As I watched the vet pull away I decided I'd better make the most of things, so I left the cell, found the shower down the corridor, and took a long, refreshing shower to really get clean. There was even a razor in there, and I was able to shave myself and make myself really neat - I was going to my fate in tip top condition at least, I thought gloomily to myself.

I didn't know whether to eat any of the slave chow from the big bin in the corridor, as I wasn't sure whether the vet would use a general anaesthetic to de-nut me, or just a give me a shot of something directly into my balls, but my stomach was rumbling as I hadn't eaten anything for days, and so I decided to chance it and eat my fill. I was going to feel pretty bad after the operation anyway, I knew, so what did it matter if he did give me a general anaesthetic which would make me feel like vomiting up all that I'd eaten?

I even thought about putting on one of the paper slave smocks that I found there - I guess the vet kept a supply of them in case any patients had to stay overnight or anything - but then I remembered the Court order that said that I was to be kept totally naked for the rest of my life, and as a properly trained slave I knew I must obey and so just stood there nude.

The door at the end of the corridor joining the vet's office from the house opened, and the woman I recognised as being his wife came in. She looked at me, and I felt a light blush start to spread over me - here I was, my dick and balls all exposed, with a good looking woman eyeing me up and down. Almost reflexively my hands moved to cover my dick and balls - inside I knew it was false modesty, as there were going to be hundreds of people seeing me naked in future - but somehow, here inside a building, it seemed wrong to be naked in front of this woman.

"Ah, slave.... There you are. Are you all right? Have you found the slave chow?"

"Ma'am, yes, thank you, ma'am."

"My husband has had to go into the city on urgent business. He asked me to tell you that he will be back later to see to you. So if I were you, I'd just enjoy the chance to have some time off. It's not often a slave gets a chance to rest, I know."

Fucking hell, was this woman for real? Did she really think I could enjoy the chance to rest, when her husband was going to cut my balls off later in the day? But I was a well trained slave, wasn't I, so fought back my desire to tell her to fuck off, and just said, politely, "Ma'am, thank you, ma'am."

She turned to go, but looked back at me and went on "There's no need to be naked you know, flaunting your body like that. In my family, slaves are always modest and properly dressed! Even my father's ponies, magnificent studs as they are, wear shorts to conceal themselves. You could have worn one of the paper slave smocks, even if you've lost the clothes your master provides you with."

I didn't know what to say. She seemed to be telling me that I ought to dress, and she was a master, and so I ought to obey her. On the other hand, there was the Court order. What should I do? My mind whirled, as there seemed to be no way of resolving this dilemma. But I had to do something, as she continued to stand there, looking at me, her eyes constantly falling to observe my dick and balls.

"Ma'am, thank you, ma'am. But I have to stay as I am."

She looked furious! I though she was going to give me a direct order to cover myself, but instead she just turned and stalked out. I knew she thought I was a rude, impertinent slave for not acceding to her wishes, and I felt even worse than I had before, if that's possible. I went back into my cell, and sat on the edge of the bunk, my head in my hands and my elbows resting on my knees, the very picture of unhappiness.

I don't know how long I sat there in despair, but when I heard the clatter of wheels in the yard I pulled myself to my feet and saw a different taxi trap pull in, and the vet got out, paid the lead pony, and went into the house. A few minutes later I heard the door in the corridor open and I knew he must be coming for me, and this was confirmed as he went past my cell, saying "Get up, Steve, and come into my office."

So this was it - he was going to start work on me, and these were my last few moments as a real man. I dragged myself along the corridor, and went into his office, my eyes unable to stop looking at his big, padded operating chair where I knew that in a few moments I'd be strapped and waiting helpless for him to begin. He was sitting behind his desk, though, looking through papers, and I saw the Court logo on the top of them. He was smiling! The bastard, he was actually re-reading the Court order and looking forward to de-nutting me, I thought.

"Right, Steve. Did you listen carefully in court?"

"Sir, yes, sir."

"Well then, you'll know that after you've been gelded you become the property of the State, and your former owner gets the standard compensation for a 'scrap' slave. The State then sells you off, for whatever price it can make. The future isn't usually very bright for 'scrap' slaves, as most masters don't want to buy slaves that aren't in good condition, so the prices are not very high. I guess they're mostly sold off to the mines, or somewhere like that, where people don't have to look at them. Or, of course, there's always the organ banks...."

Oh, Christ, was I going to be made to spend the rest of my life underground, toiling away on my hands and knees and never seeing the light of day again? Or the organ banks.... What the fuck were they?"

"Sir, the organ banks? What are they, sir?"

"Oh, you know - there's a constant demand for spare parts for remedial surgery: corneas, livers, hearts, that kind of stuff. When a slave is no use for anything else, he can always render one final service to Society and help others to live a useful and productive life. But don't worry about that - if it ever does happen to you, you won't know much about it as it's all done extremely humanely. They keep you heavily sedated in the transplant centres as they harvest the useful parts of you, and once you're 'under' they don't let you wake up after the first operation - you may spend several weeks there in-between operations, but you won't know anything about it. Believe me, it's all very well done - as part of a vet's training you work at one of the centres for six months as it's a good way of getting to learn slaves' anatomies."

As he said this, I felt my knees start to go weak and a dreadful cramping pain start in my belly - oh no, my body wasn't going to let me down now, was it? But the vet was still talking, and he continued

"But that's far in the future for you, Steve, I'm sure - you've got years and years of useful life left in you yet. And a slave should, after all, be glad that when he's finally too old to work he'll still be of some use to his masters. And it's better than ending up old, feeble, and useless, in some dreadful retirement home, as so many masters do."

As he was saying this, he got up, came around his desk, and stood close to me. Lowering his voice, he went on "Look, Steve, I'm going to take a huge risk. I'm going to gamble my whole career on you.... Can I trust you?"

I didn't know what he was going on about, but I was trustworthy, wasn't I? So I replied, in the same low tone, "Sir, yes, sir."

"Look, I know something about you. You were one of my first regular patients when I set up practice here, and I know you're a really well-trained, hard-working slave. Your owner never had anything to complain about, and I was really sad when he gave you to his son and then they started to do all these modifications to you. Personally, I don't agree with any of it - I think the American Society For The Prevention Of Cruelty To Slaves is right in trying to get changes to the law to make it illegal for owners to carry out body modifications: an owner has the right to make a slave work hard, of course, but not to have him tattooed, or ringed, or 'skinned, or anything like that, in my opinion. Why, now, some owners are even having their slaves' ears clipped into points, just like they do to some dogs, in the name of 'fashion'. But, even so, whilst the law allows it, I suppose I have to go along with it - these sort of modifications are becoming an important part of my profits."

"Anyway, I was shocked when I heard that you'd been sentenced to gelding. And I phoned around yesterday and spoke to your owner - he said that a big change had come over you when he gave you to his son, and he seemed really sad about the whole thing. If it's any consolation, he really didn't want this to happen to you, but he thought that as a prominent member of the community he needed to set an example, and have you sent to the Court after what you did to the other slaves."

Well, it wasn't much consolation, actually! It was nice to know my old master still thought well of me, but the end result was the same, wasn't it?

"Look, Steve.... after..... after, well, you know.... sex with you...." His voice was even lower now, and he was leaning closer to me. "Well, after that fantastic sex with you, I know you didn't mean any harm. You just get carried away with the passion and excitement of it all, don't you?"

"Sir, yes, sir...."

"So I know you're not really bad, and so this morning I went to the Court and bought you. I'm your new owner now, Steve. I could never have afforded a magnificent pony like you, even with all those disfiguring tattoos, scars and rings... But as 'scrap', it was easy. It's going to be really good having you pull me around in my trap. And..... and, well..... having you around in the evening, when I need to relax, is going to be very special, too..... if you understand me."

Well I wasn't going to be any good to him for sex, after I'd been gelded, was I? Was he living on some other planet?

"Sir, thank you, sir. I'll try to be a good pony to you, sir. But..... But I don't know how my body will behave after.... After the operation, sir. I don't know if I'll be as strong, or able to run as far, or as fast.... And, sir, well, you know... I'll be able to do some things in the evening sir.... You know... But others will be impossible, won't they....?"

He was smiling now, as I stumbled to get all this out.

I wasn't used to speaking to masters, after all, and especially not used to talking about sex.

"Oh, Steve! Don't worry.... I'm not going to cut your balls off, and neither is anyone else. And that's where I'm taking the risk. I filed papers at the Court today saying I did the operation, and then I bought you at the 'scrap' price. I'm risking it, and trusting that they won't send anyone around to inspect you, until after we've moved."

All of a sudden, my spirits soared! I was going to avoid gelding, it seemed. And I was getting a new owner.... All of a sudden, life had taken a turn for the better."

"Yes", he went on. "I'm moving. This practice is sold. I love it here, and I'll be sad to go - the country, the woods, the hunting, the fishing... I love all that sort of stuff, and I'd have enjoyed having you pull me out to the lake on Sundays, then to fish a bit, then to have you fuck me in the open air.... But my wife misses the city, and, more importantly, her family, who have all the money, have agreed with her that we should go back! You slaves think that us free guys have it easy, don't you? But for a guy without much money, it's still tough."

I could tell that I wasn't supposed to comment about this - I didn't think he really knew what it was like to be a slave at all, and I didn't really believe that it could possibly be hard for free men, but he was in full flight now:

"With a whole lot of jobs destroyed by the energy crisis, there's not all that much work. Even with slaves to try to compensate for much of the loss, the economy never really recovered and there just aren't a whole lot of interesting, well-paid jobs for men any longer. I didn't want to spend my whole life on welfare - generous though it now is - and I'd always wanted to treat the sick. There was no chance of becoming a doctor, of course - demand for places at medical school is enormous, and unless you've got really rich parents, which I haven't, there isn't a hope in hell's chance of getting in. It's very hard, and expensive, to train as a vet, too, and I could only afford it by signing a marriage contract with my wife's parents. They then paid for me to go through vet's school, and bought me this practice when I graduated."

I was intrigued now, and couldn't help asking "Sir, a marriage contract, sir?"

"Oh, yes. Well, with so many men removed form society to become slaves, there are a whole lot more women than there are men. So it can be hard for a woman to find a husband, especially a handsome, good looking stud like me....." He smiled as he said this.

"Someone like me, with brains as well as a good body. So rich parents scour the market, find guys from less well-off backgrounds like me, and offer to pay for their training and education in exchange for marrying their daughter. Now, don't get me wrong... I like my wife, she's a nice lady. But I'd probably not have married her, or, actually, not married at all, if I hadn't wanted to become a vet."

"Her folks are rich, though, and I made the deal, and I'm sticking by it They have a huge apartment in New York City, and my wife misses the life here - she's just not a country girl at heart. So she talked to her folks, and they called me and told me that they're selling this place, and that they're buying me a nice new practice in a place called Scardsale - I can practice there, and when my wife wants to go to the city and visit her parents, its a short ride on the train - in fact, in the old days, thousands used to travel in from there to work in the city every day. All of this was decided without telling me - her folks own this place, not me, and they signed the contracts and everything and then told me. We're out of here next week, and the removers are coming on Monday."

I listened in astonishment to all of this. It was almost as if my new owner had been "bought" himself by his wife's parents! And they seemed to control his life just as much as an owner controlled mine - he didn't seem to have much choice about anything. I guess it's only the rich who are really free. But he continued to talk, and went on:

"So I'm taking a huge gamble - that they won't check up on you today! Once we're in Scarsdale, there's not a hope that they'll follow up - in the old days when there was a nation-wide system of computers and things it would have been impossible, as they could easily trace us wherever we went. But running that type of thing is just too expensive these days, and if we move out of this state, I think I'm pretty safe."

"Just to minimise the risk, I've booked you on the bus to New York tonight. You can go to the new place, and get it ready for us. I hope you realise that I'm really trusting you here, Steve.... If you're caught, they'll take my licence away, at the very least. So I'm relying on you to behave properly on the journey, to work well as a slave in our new place, and never to do anything to draw attention to your past."

I was so amazed, and grateful. I was going to remain as proper man! I stammered "Sir, thank you, sir... I don't know how to thank you, sir.... I'm so grateful, sir...."

"Oh, we'll find ways of showing how grateful you are to me, Steve", he said, grinning. "After that fantastic performance last night, you don't think I'd really want to cut those magnificent balls off you, do you? It would be a criminal waste if a stud like you couldn't shoot cum.... Pity about that black dick of ours, though - some men wouldn't like that down their throats, and I'm not all that keen on it myself... So I guess we'll have to keep the lights turned out. Now, I do have one small operation to perform on you...."

My good mood started to evaporate almost as quickly as it had come as I heard him say this, as I'd had "small operations" before.

"In the chair now, and let's do it."

Could it be that he was spinning a tale, and this was only a ploy to get me strapped in, I wondered? But I had no choice anyway, so I went over and sat down in the padded chair, feeling the chill of the leather against my naked ass and back.

"Right, Steve, this won't take long, and it won't hurt!".

He had some sort of big metal surgical instrument in his hands, and he came and stood at the foot of the chair, in-between my legs. He reached over towards me, and I felt his clothes scrape against my naked body. There was a sharp pain in my nose, then a tickling sensation.... And then he stood up, and held out his hands to show me my snout ring!

"There - I've got rid of that. You were just too conspicuous ringed like that. Now, let me get those tit rings out...."

He bent over me again, holding the instrument that I could now see was something like a pair of tin snips. I felt that odd sensation in my left nip as he took hold of my ring and pulled it gently away from my body, but then he stopped.

"No, I think we'll leave these in.... You're going to have to wear a T in future as you're too conspicuous with all those tattoos, and so no one will see these tit rings anyway. And I think it would be a sensible precaution to leave them in - if I've got any hope of controlling you when you're in full rut, I'll need to be able to pull on these to remind you who's really in charge!".

He was smiling as he said this, and I didn't really care - I'd got kind of used to having tit rings, and sometimes, when I jerked myself off, I played with them as I found it gave me a whole lot of pleasure. I smiled inwardly, though, at the idea that he might even think he was in control when I was fucking him!

"OK, all done. You can get up now. What a pity I can't reverse the 'skinning as easily - I'd have liked to play with your dick when I could slide the 'skin over the head. Still, we can't have everything."

I got to my feet, and felt my nose. It was so odd not to have the heavy ring in there, and my upper lip felt strangely bare without the feel of the thing hanging over it. I carried on fingering it, and somehow I felt less of a slave without it - being ringed through the nose was pretty humiliating, and, as I'd seen, when they chained me by it and used it to lead me around, it was just as if I was some sort of animal and not a trained slave. I almost felt human again!

"Now", the vet was saying "Here's some standard slave shorts and a slave T - we're going to have to get you to the bus station without anyone seeing you. These should help, as there are so many slaves around dressed like this that most people just don't notice them at all. With those tattoos covered you'll look almost like any other slave - except for your magnificent physique, of course. The T's the extra, extra, extra large size, so that will disguise your muscles to some extent, and the arms are that bit longer and that will cover where the tattoo falls to your elbow. You know, I can't imagine why anyone buys a slave with a body that this T is designed to fit - there aren't any slaves more muscular than you, so this size can only be for some mountain of wobbling lard - why would a master want to own a slave like that?"

I didn't know, and I didn't care. But I could see that I wasn't expected to answer anyway. It felt odd having clothes on again - my dick stirred into life at the stimulation of the fabric against it as I moved. But it was really odd wearing a T again - it was months since my torso was covered, and I got little thrills of excitement as my nips got stimulated by it.

"Now, Steve, I do have other patients. Go back to the cell and stay in there quietly for the rest of the day. I've got a taxi coming later, as it starts to go dark, and we'll slip through to the bus station without anyone being concerned, I hope."

For the rest of the day I just lazed around, almost in a daze. My fortunes seemed to have taken such a turn for the better - not only was I going to avoid being gelded, but I seem to got a new owner who really cared for me. But, as I thought on, I began to realise that all might not be quite as good as I imagined: was I going to be some sort of sex slave now, rather than being able to use my skills as a pony? I'd enjoyed fucking the vet yesterday and utterly bending him to my will, but how was he going to use me in future now that he owned me? Was I going to have to take his dick up my ass every time he felt like it - I hated the idea, and wondered what I could do about it. But however much I thought things through I knew that I just had to soldier on, and see what turned up - as a slave, I didn't have any other real choice, did I?

It was good to be running again as dusk fell - my owner, as that's how I thought of the vet now, went in the taxi of course but it didn't seem right to sit along side him and to burden the ponies with pulling my weight as well. My owner was concerned about my running alongside the ponies, as it might give people the idea that I was a trained pony, too, and trigger memories of my recent trial, but then he thought it might appear even more strange for a master and a slave to be sitting together! So I got to enjoy a good run again, and the sheer pleasure of my long legs striding out under me. I almost got carried away, and ran on ahead, then came back to where the very ordinary ponies were trudging along, then ran on again.... Just as dogs do when they're off the leash. But a word from my owner told me to cool it, and I slowed down and just paced alongside the two guys in the shafts of the trap.

I remembered the procedure of slaves travelling, and at the bus station my owner paid for a through ticket for me to Scarsdale via New York City for me at the Universal Salve Services desk. He declined their all-in offer of overnight accommodation in their dormitories, and said to me after we'd left the desk "Sorry about that, Steve - you may have to sleep on a bench in the bus station - but I do need to save money, you know. I want to try to be as little indebted to my wife's family as I can, and so I try to save every penny."

As they had before, the people at USS printed out a routing slip for me and handed it over to my owner. He told me to kneel, so that he could more conveniently fix the bright plastic strip on its collar around my neck - I couldn't help noticing that he seemed to be erect as I knelt before him, as there was a really prominent bulge in his slacks. It was as if having me kneeling before him was some sort of real turn-on for him; or perhaps it was just the thrill of labelling a piece of male flesh that he owned totally.

He left me then, and I went to the slave waiting area until my bus was called, sitting down with my back against a vacant area of wall. I tried not to show any sign of discomfort as I did so, as my back and ass were still a bit painful from my whipping, and I didn't want to call attention to myself. But I only had about an hour to wait before they announced that the express for New York City was loading, so it wasn't so bad.

Really I suppose it's stupid the way they treat slaves in transit - a man had to stand at the door of the slave compartment on the lower deck of the huge bus to read my label and verify that I was routed on this bus - he could just have asked me, couldn't he? There was really no need to treat me just like a piece of baggage that was incapable of speaking and telling him where I was going. But that's the way slaves are treated, I suppose, and I didn't mind all that much - it was going to be interesting to be on a bus again anyway.

I sat there in the seat, and was alone until just before the bus left, when a young lad got in. He was being seen of by his family - two guys who looked a bit older, and who were presumably brothers or cousins, and an older, distinguished man, who shook his hand - his father, I supposed. I was reminded of my first time in a bus all those years ago - I was a young sixteen year old, like the lad now, and I'd been with that fighter... What was he called... Chet, yes, that was it... Chet, who was superbly muscled as I now was. I remembered how I knew nothing then - I didn't know how to greet another slave, I didn't know about the pleasures of sex.... Chet must have thought me very naive, and I wondered if I ought to talk to the young lad and try to explain some of those things to him, just as Chet had to me.

But I didn't get the chance. As soon as he was in the compartment the lad reached across for my arm, pushed up the sleeve a bit so he could read my name and said "Hi, Steve!". I did the same to him, almost reflexively, and in turn said "Hi, Darren."

"Nice tattoos, man! Your owner must be a cool dude to have you tattooed like that.". He'd evidently seen the big kelp tattoos moving up my arm as he'd read my name from the standard slave tattoo and SIN. He was obviously not slightly scared or overawed by his new life, as I'd been at his age!

"I wouldn't say that.... He may have thought it was 'cool', but it's not very good for me."

"Hey, Steve, stop bitching! You're a slave, right? So enjoy it."

"Darren, is this your first trip? Are you off to a slave training camp somewhere? I think you'd better keep your opinions to yourself until you've had a bit more experience..."

"Hey, no way! None of that stupid training for me - my dad sent my details off to a couple of places in New York and they bought me as soon as I'd been through formal enslavement. I went to the Slave Centre yesterday, and, as you saw, my dad and my brothers are waving goodbye to me today.

He seemed so cheerful, and I contrasted the way he was thinking and acting with the way that I'd been when I took that first journey so many years ago. I remembered how shocked I'd been when Chet had suggested that we had sex, and now I was to be equally shocked - as the bus pulled away, Darren came and sat opposite me and at one said "Shall we fuck, then?"

"What?"

"Shall we fuck, Steve? It's one hell of a long journey, and a couple of studs like us need something to keep us amused.... Is your dick built on the same scale as the rest of you?"

As he said this Darren reached out to feel the front of my slave shorts. I stopped him, gripping his wrist in my strong hands.

"Hey, Darren - I thought you were only just enslaved. You shouldn't know about fucking with guys!"

"Why ever not? I've got two older brothers, and dad....."

"You mean you've had sex with your brothers?.... I suppose you saw them jerking off, and joined in.....?"

"Well, it started like that. Dad said it was important that we bonded and so he had all three of us share a room, even though they're five and six years older than me. He said I'd be going away soon enough, when I was sixteen, and so it was important we shared all our time together. I used to watch them jerking off every night, but they never let me do anything until I was mature. It used to drive me crazy - I used to beat away at my dick, and even though I could get it to go hard sometimes, I could never cum, of course."

"Then I remember the great morning when I woke up and found myself covered in cum - I'd had my first wet dream! I must have been twelve, and I made so much noise that my brothers got out of bed and stripped the sheet back to see what had happened. They called dad in when they saw the sheets all slimy with my cum, and he told me he didn't want that to happen again, as it made extra work for mom to have to wash the bedclothes - so he said I should start jerking myself off now, as I was ready."

I listened in astonishment to this. I remembered when I was a kid and I'd had a wet dream, and how I'd been so ashamed. I'd hurried home from school and washed my own bed sheet in the bath, then dried it as best I could, so no one would know.

"Well, I didn't want to do that, did I, when I'd got two older brothers? They were both jocks at school, and had nice bodies, and I wanted to do the same as they did. So that night when they got into bed together I leapt on top of them and wriggled down between them. Man, they were pissed off, as they didn't want my little hairless boy body near them - but I'd read books and stuff and knew what to do, and wriggled down the bed and started to give them a blow job! They'd not done that with each other, and it drove them wild - they were always talking about how they tried to get their girlfriends to take their dicks in their mouths, but they'd never succeeded. And now they were getting it at last - well, not very expertly that first time, as the books never tell you exactly how difficult it is to get a dick right down, do they?"

I suppose I nodded in agreement (I didn't like to admit I'd never read a book, especially not one about sex!), as he went on "Well, it just went from there. They hadn't fucked each other, either, before I wanted to try it. They'd just been doing the kind of jerking off that all brothers do with each other. It was really hard to get them to dick my ass - I had to wait until they came home from a party with a few beers inside them, then wriggle and slide my ass over their dicks, rather than having them take the initiative. But once they'd seen what it was like, they loosened up a bit. Mind you, when I wanted to dick them there was a hell of a lot of trouble... I had to go and talk to dad about it, saying that they weren't treating me right."

"As I've said, he wanted us boys to really be good brothers, so he called them in and said it just wasn't fair for them to be fucking me without giving me a chance to try it out for myself. He told them I needed to get prepared for life as a slave, where it was to be expected I'd be fucked regularly, and that now might be my only chance to see what fucking an ass was like, and that they owed it to me to let me live a little."

"Well, they're good guys, so that night I slipped it in to my elder brother, having jerked him off first to get a nice load of cum as a lube. Then, as soon as I'd recovered, I did my other brother. I won't say it was very expert those first few times - but after that it was pretty much 'anything goes' with the three of us."

I hadn't said anything, as I was so amazed at what I was hearing. But then his tone lower and his voice begin to falter, as he went on "Yes, they're great guys, my brothers. I miss them terribly already, and dad. I don't suppose anyone will ever fuck me as well as dad did.... I really miss them..... And I miss the warmth of their bodies and their dicks..."

He broke off, and I thought I ought to say something. "Your dad fucked you as well?"

"Yes, of course. He didn't make me do it or anything, just told me that if I wanted to see what going with an experienced guy was like, rather than with my brothers.... He taught me a lot, although he'd never let me dick him. And now.... Now I'm missing them..... Steve, let's fuck, please.... I miss them all so much, and if I had a nice guy like you to fuck...."

"No, Darren!"

He looked so sad, though, that I kind of put an arm along the edge of the hard seat and motioned for him to come over and sit next to me. I put my are around him and pulled him close to me, to comfort him a bit.

"Look, Darren, it's hard for a slave to leave home for the first time. I remember how I felt when I had to leave my folks and go off to be trained. But you'll get used to it - if you have a good owner it's not a bad life being a slave, you know."

The lad was snuffling a bit, and I thought he might be close to tears. He nestled himself against my body and gave a little sigh.

"You're a nice guy, Steve, and I can feel you've got a great body - a bit like my older brother's."

"I doubt it, Darren - I've had years working hard as a slave, and I guess your brother works in an office or something...."

"No, actually the older one's a pro football player, and the younger one's training to be a slave overseer in the quarries - they both wanted an active life."

As he said this, Darren moved his hand so that it fell easily to rest on my crotch. Now look, I really don't fancy young lads; but I hadn't really jerked off that day and I was a bit horny, so as the weight fell on it, my dick naturally got hard. The little bastard obviously felt it, as he started to rub gently up and down, and I got harder and harder.

"Fuck me, Steve, please...."

"No, Darren. I don't fuck young guys liek you!"

"What would happen if your owner ordered you to, then?"

"Well, then I guess I'd do it, of course."

"So there's nothing wrong with doing it, it's not that you don't like ass, it's just that you don't like me!". He gave a great sniff as he said this, clearly getting a bit sad and upset.

"No, Darren... It's just that I prefer to fuck guys my own age, through choice. Obviously I'd fuck anyone my owner told me to, wouldn't I. It's not that I don't like you personally - you're just too young for me."

"Can I at least suck your dick, then? Surely you don't mind how old the mouth is around that? I promise you I'll take you right down...."

I thought about it for a moment. I felt sorry for the lad, leaving home for the first time and missing his dad and his brothers, and, anyway, I had balls full of cum. What would be the harm? After all, if I shut my eyes one mouth is probably much like another ,and I could forget it was a young lad going down on me and think it was someone older. So I kind of shrugged, pushed him away from my body and helped him down to kneel on the floor between my big muscular legs.

He wasted absolutely no time - he at once reached up and undid the button on top of my slave shorts, and started to tug at the waistband. "Brace yourself up a bit, Steve....", he said, and he quickly then pulled my shorts off completely.

To tell you the truth I felt a bit ridiculous sitting there on the hard naugahyde bench in just a T, with this young lad crouching between my legs.

"Wow....". He gave a low whistle. "I thought my dad had a big one, but yours is a monster, Steve. But why.... Why is it all black? Is it diseased, or something?"

"No - a former owner had it inked in, to make me, well, something special to look at, I suppose."

He didn't say anything, because he leaned forward and opened his lips over my dick head. I saw him looking up at me as he started to tease me, and he kept his eyes locked into mine - that's funny, actually, as I now know that a whole lot of guys when they're sucking you just won't do that, as they keep their eyes cast down. I think it's the guys who are really into dick that like looking at you - the others do it but are a bit ashamed, or something.

He was really expert, and I started to get whole waves of pleasure spreading through me as he worked away at my dick. I put my hands on either side of his head in the way I'd done to the vet to make him take all of me down into his throat, and was suddenly very conscious of the differences between them: the vet was a proper mature man, and I'd felt his stubble as I forced his head up and down, whereas this kid's skin was smoother, and there was hardly sensation of a beard under my fingers. But, unlike the vet, I didn't have to force him - he was sucking at me so enthusiastically, and pleasuring me so much by forcibly ramming his throat onto my dick head, that I leaned back and relaxed totally, giving myself up to the incredible sensations flowing through me. I even closed my eyes, so I could turn all my senses inwards, and started to tweak my nips and twist the rings in them, causing my hips to arch upwards as if I was thrusting myself into the boy.

He stopped for a moment, and when he re-started it felt different: somehow he was really gripping my dick, and as my flange collided with his lips it was almost vice-like. New waves of pleasure swept through me, and he seemed to be enjoying it, too, as I could hear him grunting and panting as he worked away.

I felt my climax starting to build, and I knew I was about to cum. I decided to pull out of him as I wanted to cover his body with my juice, as I thought we could then lie close together, bound together by my drying semen. So I went to gently push his head away, and my hands instead found something else.... My eyes snapped open, and I saw him crouched over me - in that small instant when I'd felt him stop, he'd straddled my body and lowered himself onto my dick, and I'd actually been fucking him! Well, I wasn't doing much work, was I, just lying there with my hips thrusting upwards a bit - can you really say that I was fucking him, or that he'd fucked himself using my dick? Either way it was too late to do anything about it as I was completely out of control and a huge jet of cum was forcing its way along my dick and exploding into him.

I cried out, as I do, and my whole body arched upwards. Then, as he continued to fuck himself on me, I shouted and moaned because of the extreme sensitivity of my dick after it's shot.

I saw him looking down at me and smiling as I lay under him gasping and thrashing, and I couldn't do anything about it - although I was much bigger and stronger than him, I was just completely overcome with that incredible mixture of pain and pleasure, and all I could do was moan and shout to him to stop.

He did two of three more strokes, then collapsed forwards onto me, taking my head in his hands and starting to kiss me. I was panting from the extreme experience I'd had, but he was panting from the hard word he'd put in riding my cock up and down. With our chests pressed together I could feel his heart pounding away, just as mine was, and he was covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

"So, Steve, how was that? A bit better than a blow job, don't you think? My brothers liked to fuck me properly, but this was dad's favourite - he used to lie back on the couch with porn on the TV and have me ride him like that: he said he was getting too old for fucking!"

"You little bastard!", I said smiling at the way he'd duped me. "I ought to spank you for taking me like that!"

"Oh, yes, please! Put me over those lovely hard muscled thighs of yours, let my dick hang down to touch yours, then spank my ass with those big strong hands of yours.... It will be just like being with my football playing brother: He liked to warm my ass up, as he called it, before he fucked me...."

I saw he was laughing, too, and I put my arms around him and held him tight for a few minutes, as the bus sped onwards through the dark countryside. I idly wondered whether any of the passengers upstairs with full-priced tickets were enjoying the journey half as much as us slaves were down with the baggage.

"My turn now", he said after a few minutes. "I need to shoot now - can't you feel I'm hard?"

Indeed I could, as his dick felt as if it was trying to force itself into my belly.

"So turn over, Steve, and let me show you how a young vigorous sixteen year old fucks...."

"No, Darren. I don't take dick up my ass."

"OK then". As he said this, he nimbly straddled me again and kind of "walked" up my chest so that his dick was hanging near my mouth. His balls were scraping on the top of my chest as they hung there in their long, loose sac, and I got that intoxicating whiff of maleness from the sweat glands all around his pubes.

He held his dick in one hand and thrust it forward at my mouth. "Come on, then, open wide.... Let's see if you're as good at sucking a guy's dick as I am!"

I pushed him off quite firmly, and sat up and looked down at him. "Look, Darren, I don't get fucked, and I don't suck dick! Well, not unless my owner orders me too. So there will be none of that with you."

"You bastard", he said in a kind of half-whiney voice.

"You fuck me, but you won't give me any fun in return...."

"Shut the fuck up, Darren! This isn't a bargaining session! I didn't fuck you - you fucked yourself. I will fuck you later on, though, now I know it wasn't all bullshit you were talking about your dad and your brothers - you're obviously very experienced. But I top, and that's all there is to say about it."

"Will you jerk me off, at least, please, Steve?" I think the tone of my voice had alerted to him that he was on dangerous ground here, and that I might give him more than a little light spanking if he continued.

"Please, Steve.... Don't make me play with myself. I miss dad and my brothers so much...."

Well, what does it cost you to jerk another guy off? And it's always interesting to feel another dick, isn't it? His was nicely sized, and was rock solid, and I reached over and started to stroke him.

"Please, Steve.... Instead of your hands, can you use your thighs?"

I stopped abruptly, as I thought I'd misheard. "What?

What the fuck are you on about?"

"Well, dad didn't like jerking me off, and he wouldn't take dick, like you. But sometimes he'd let me cum between his legs.... "

"What? What do you mean?"

"Oh Steve, you are a bit of an innocent, aren't you? I think that was the first time anyone had straddled you to be fucked, wasn't it? And now you don't know about using another guy's body to pleasure yourself..... How old are you? Twenty four, twenty five, and you've never rubbed a guy to climax without using your hands? Come on..... Where have you been all your life?"

It seemed so bizarre, this sixteen year old almost giving me sex lessons! I felt myself start to blush a bit, as actually I was a bit ashamed of my lack of experience- all those years when I'd just jerked myself off and had never thought of enjoying myself with my fellow slaves. I didn't like to appear to be some sort of hick in front of Darren, so I mumbled "Oh, all right.... Just this once, as you're missing your dad..."

"Turn over then!". His tone had changed from being whiney and self-pitying, and I wondered if the little bastard had just been putting on an act. Perhaps he was altogether more sophisticated even than he seemed!

I rolled over onto my belly, and he lay on top of my. I heard him say in a low voice "Open your legs a bit, Steve..... There.... Now close them....."

As I moved my legs back together I felt something hard and hot between my thighs, near the top. Then Darren began to rock up and don, effectively using my leg muscles to jerk himself into.

He pounded away, faster and faster, then shouted "Oh, Jesus Christ... Yes... Yes.....", and fell forwards so he was lying on my back. I'd only had other mature slaves on me before, those few times when we'd had sex, and the boy's body felt strangely light as we lay there in the darkness.

"Thanks, Steve....." He rolled off me, and we sat up.

His cum had shot down between my thighs and they were a bit sticky, but some of it had gone all over the naugahyde seat. I was going to brush it off, but Steve was laughing and said "No, leave it there.... It will dry and make California Potato Chips".

"California Potato Chips?"

"Yes - you know, when cum dries on something and makes those round white patches. You can prise it up off something like this naugahyde, and me and my brothers call it 'California Potato Chips'. It's not really like potato chips, I suppose, as it's too fragile. But I'll tell you what it is like. Or can you guess?"

"No, I can't."

"Didn't your folks take you to church?"

"Yes, when I was young. But I grew out of it and stopped going when I was about ten and I realised it was all a load of superstitious nonsense."

"Me too. But dad made all of us go anyway - he was very strict with us. So my brothers and I used to sit and see if anyone would spot the substitution.... We used to swap some of the communion wafers for our own 'Californian potato chips', then we'd sit and watch as the congregation went up and sipped the wine and took the wafer, to see if anyone noticed the very special taste...."

I didn't know whether he was really serious, or if it was just a joke... We were both laughing, anyway, in that easy way that guys do when they've had sex together, so what did it matter?

End of part 18