"THE AFTERMATH" 
(Or What Follows Next)
Chapter 8: "After Sales Service - The Fourth Slave"

 This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen years.

Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris)
An archive of my stories can be found at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christope_Stories 

"The characters and ideas contained in this story are the writer's and shouldn't be used without permission. Please respect the integrity of this story and don't do any rewrites, make alterations of add pictures."

Chapter 8: "After Sales Service - The Fourth Slave"

PART 1: The Comfort Station

The slave is in a state of shock and denial. Having just left Dave Matheson's, he can't, as yet, comprehend his sudden change of circumstance. It is hard for him to grasp that he has just been sold and that the previous life he'd known as a field slave at the Trevorrow farm is now over. He is acutely aware that he has been cruelly torn away from the only security and support he'd known in his slavery - the companionship and comfort of his two fellow slaves, the cousins- who remain locked in their pen awaiting Saturday's auction. He knows he will, most likely, never see them again. He is heartbroken at this knowledge and, as he trots alongside his new Master's rickshaw, he feels a deep sadness. He is besieged by an over-riding sense of dread at what his new life at the Patroklos Club holds for him.

In his misery, he is at first oblivious to the scenes around him. He doesn't recognise that he is now a part of the unhappy tableau of slavery that lies at the core of the city's existence and prosperity. His eyes are shut to the almost countless number of slaves employed in a myriad of tasks for their owners. And he doesn't comprehend that this very existence of slavery is the heartbeat that keeps the city alive and slave labour is the blood flow that keeps it functioning.

Dazedly, he is aware that he is trotting alongside the matched pair of ponies as they pull his new master's rickshaw through the congested city streets, He feels their re-action to Simon's whip as it cuts across their naked buttocks with the exhortation to. 

"HUP! HUP!" 

Obediently, they respond by breaking into a faster trot. The slave is compelled to keep pace with them.

The slave feels the warmth of the afternoon sun on his naked body and as he runs he gulps in the fresh, clean air of the outdoors. Soon, the cloying smell of Dave Matheson's slave pens is gone from his nostrils and it is but a lingering, nasty memory. He is aware that he is perspiring profusely and feels the rivulets of sweat trickling down his body as he breathes in the pleasant, sensuous aroma of the two sweating ponies. Again, Simon applies his whip to the ponies and the three slaves find themselves moving even faster. It would appear his master is eager to arrive at his destination.

Inevitably, the slave's mind begins to awaken to the sensations around him and he gradually emerges from the gloom of his self-pity. Whether this is because of the enforced exercise of running alongside the ponies or the pleasure of once more being outdoors - or perhaps a combination of both- the slave doesn't know. Now he begins to look about him and he is appalled at what he sees. Everywhere he looks, he sees slaves.

Until yesterday, he'd been restricted to his former owner's farm. There, he knew only the forlorn existence of a slave; the hard, physical labour of the fields and firm discipline of the overseers' canes and whips. 

Quite deliberately, he'd been kept in ignorance of life beyond the boundaries of the Trevorrow property. There, within the narrow world of the farm, he'd toiled ceaselessly in his master's interests; indeed, as a slave, nothing else was required of him other than that he diligently serve the needs of his owner. However, he did know that slavery existed outside the confines of the farm; but he was ignorant of its manifestations. Now for the first time, he is seeing it in action. Between now and the time he enters into the Patroklos Club he will get many glimpses of what it means to be a slave in this city.

He becomes aware of the gangs of naked or near naked slaves toiling under the direction of their overseers; driven to repair or maintain the roadways and footpaths and to clean the busy streets. Yet more slaves are employed on building and construction sites erecting the grand edifices that reflect their masters' business interests and wealth. And he is appalled to see slaves used for one of the most basic of human needs - transportation.

The crowded streets are full of conveyances in many shapes and sizes and all are drawn by slaves in harness. Some of these conveyances, much like his new master's, are merely lightweight, one - person rickshaws powered by one or perhaps two ponies; others are heavier, larger and more ornate and are drawn by teams of four to six slaves. 

These wretched, naked slaves, all sweating profusely in the hot afternoon sun, strain into their harnesses as they transport their owners from one destination to another.

And the slave is shocked to see the ostentatious use of a team of six tall, muscular slaves carrying a heavy litter on their shoulders in which reclines a grossly overweight man of effeminate and dissolute appearance.

Moving into one of the city's many squares; Simon pulls back on his reigns bringing the ponies to a halt before stepping out of the rickshaw. The tired ponies are glad of any respite - no matter how brief - and now stand docilely in their harnesses gulping air into their tortured lungs. 

Gradually, as their breathing returns to normal, the quivering in their aching thighs and leg muscles lessens. The slave of course isn't as stressed as the two ponies; after all he had only to run alongside them without the weight of the rickshaw behind him. He wonders why they have stopped and looks to see what it is that his new master is doing. 

He is shocked to see they stand adjacent to one of the city's comfort stations.

As he watches he sees his new master engaged in a jovial conversation with the city official responsible for the operation and maintenance of the comfort station. The slave, only too aware that this could be the fate that awaits him at some future date, is horrified at the sight before him.

Kneeling on their hands and knees on a raised platform and with their heads securely fastened into stocks is a row of naked slaves, all aged between the mid-twenties and early thirties. Even as he watches, the slave hears the official order his two slave assistants to remove the recently used slaves and replace them with `fresh stock' that have been flushed out and re-lubricated ready for use by the customers. 

Standing nearby - and waiting impatiently - are three boys, in their late teens, who are mercilessly taunting the unhappy slaves; loudly boasting of their sexual prowess and warning the slaves of what to `expect'. Simon and the official smile indulgently at the teenagers' boisterous behaviour and, obligingly, the official instructs his assistants to.

"Hurry up. Can't you see we have some very eager customers waiting?"

Then, the slave watches as the three teenagers move slowly down the line of kneeling slaves choosing which ones to fuck. 

They don't hurry in choosing; rather they take their time and enjoy the obvious distress of the anxious slaves. The slaves suffer the indignity of having their genitals manipulated and their ass-cracks spread wide to expose their abused anuses. Mischievously, the young men use their fingers to tease the sensitive tissue around the puckering holes thus causing the slaves to buck. This bucking by the slaves rattles the head-stocks and is the cause of much laughter and ribald comment from the teenagers. 

Finally, having chosen their slaves, the teenagers, demonstrating the full vigour of their youth, enthusiastically thrust their rampant cocks into their respective slaves.

The slave looks on in fascinated horror. He watches the vigorous thrusting of the teenagers' hips as their `ride' their slaves hard. He notes the slaves' heads, locked into the stocks, bobbing each time a teenager drives hard into him. He hears the panting and soft moaning of the slaves and as he looks at their faces he sees the bleak despair and hopelessness reflected in their eyes.

Although he is overcome with fear for his own future, he can't turn away from the sight of the three slaves being mercilessly fucked by the energetic teenagers. He hears the teenagers' exuberant shouts of pleasure each time they drive deep into the slaves' bodies. Even Simon's ponies have stirred themselves and are watching with obvious interest. Their cinched cocks, unlike the slave's, are rock solid hard and sticking out at right angles from their bellies; his own is hanging limp from shock and fear.

The slave wonders why Simon has stopped here. Is it to give him a glimpse of his own future? Could his new master be so cruel? Does his master hope that by letting him see that this is his future, then the slave will want to delay the inevitable and remain in service at the Patroklos Club for as long as possible? Will this fear of being consigned to a comfort station at some future date make him more willing to please and harder working at the Club? 

Suddenly, the slave realises his fear of the comfort station is greater than the fear of him working as a pleasure slave. Already, his mind is being conditioned to accept his new life at the Patroklos; reflecting on the hopelessness of his situation he weighs up his options. Now he determines to delay being consigned to a comfort station for as long as possible and to apply himself conscientiously to his new role as a pleasure slave.

He is unaware that until recently several of the slaves kneeling on the bench had worked at the Patroklos Club. Upon becoming redundant, the city had exercised its right to buy them and place them in service at the city's comfort stations. Simon had learned that some of his former slaves were working at this particular station and, out of curiosity; he had stopped to watch them at work.

The slave's thoughts are rudely interrupted by an exultant shout from one of the teenagers. As he ejaculates into his slave, the teenager continues to shout and triumphantly pumps the air with his clenched fist and then, finally spent, he collapses and lies on the slave's sweaty back. As he lies there, he watches as his friends continue to plough the slaves beneath them. 

Soon, they too are shouting out their ecstasy before they too collapse onto the backs of their sweating, panting slaves. Finally, when the three are sufficiently recovered, they pull out of the slaves and with a series of contemptuous slaps on the slaves' asses they thank the official for a `great fuck' and take their leave. 

Quickly, the humiliated slaves are freed from the bench and taken away by the slave assistants for cleansing. They are immediately replaced by three fresh slaves who must now wait, acquiescently, for the inevitable assaults on their bodies.

Simon takes his leave of the official and climbing back into his rickshaw, he loudly slaps the reins on the ponies' shoulders with the instruction to. 

"WALK ON!" 

Skilfully he guides them through the crowded square before turning into a less crowded side street. Here, he applies the whip to the ponies' rumps with the order to. 

"Trot on!" Effortlessly, they increase their speed. 

The slave, fastened by his leash to the rickshaw must keep pace with them. They continue on for another fifteen minutes before arriving in front of a brick warehouse which bears a sign above its entrance.

SAMUEL NORTON
SLAVE CHANDLERS
BRANDING & MINOR OPERATIONS
INFIBULATIONS & OTHER AUGMENTATIONS A SPECIALTY
SLAVES KITTED OUT
All Work Guaranteed

                                                           >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

PART 2: The Assessment

SIMON! Good Afternoon. What brings you here so late in the day?"

The slave's response to this loud welcome to his new Master is to steal a fleeting glance at the man walking across the enclosed courtyard towards them with his hand held out in greeting. 

The man has a large, powerful frame and is of an indeterminate age - the slave estimates this at somewhere in the forty-plus range. He has a bald, smooth head that shines with perspiration in the late afternoon sunlight. His round face is dominated by his piercing dark eyes and thin lips and is framed by a short black beard. He wears a sleeveless vest that displays a powerful chest covered with dense black hair; as do his forearms. A young, naked slave walks behind him.

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting Simon." The man apologises as he vigorously shakes Simon's hand. "Has my yard porter taken good care of you?" He asks pointing to a trembling slave kneeling in obeisance. "If not, just tell me and he'll be punished."

"Good afternoon, Sam. There's no need to apologise - after all I did call in unannounced, and yes, your yard porter attended to me with the utmost courtesy and efficiency, thank you."

"It's just as well he did. He's out of favour at the moment."

"Why, what has he done to earn your displeasure?" Simon asks.

"He's been accused by some of my clients of showing disrespect and disinterest in his dealings with them. Only yesterday, I had one client complain bitterly about his surliness. And he's exhibiting bad temper towards my other slaves. As you'd appreciate these are all intolerable traits for a slave to exhibit. You can see from his back that I've had to punish him several times of late."

"Do you know what's causing his bad behaviour?"

"No not at all, Simon. Until lately, he's always been a well behaved slave and because of his good attitude, I gave him a responsible position as my yard porter. Up until now, he's always performed his duties efficiently and cheerfully. I don't really know what's gotten into him to cause him to display such bad behaviour. But I WON"T put up with it."

The slave in question trembles as his master discusses his bad behaviour and he is grateful that Simon's comments have spared him further punishment. His back already displays the several layers of his previous punishments. At the bottom layer are the fading pinkish-red welts of his first punishment and superimposed on these are the welts from his two subsequent whippings - ranging in colour blue-black bruises to angry red stripes.

The slave is fortunate in that his owner doesn't allow the skin to be broken during a flogging; nevertheless, the pain he feels is acute and he is now determined not to annoy his master. To this end he has resolved to mend his ways and to be a good slave. 

Suddenly, his feet are kicked apart by his master and he is ordered to. 

"DISPLAY PROPERLY! Spread your knees. Get your head to the ground. Raise your ass. NOW! " 

The chastened slave hastens to comply and now his heavily cinched balls swing freely between his thighs and his ass is open to scrutiny.

"See what I mean?" Sam snaps angrily. I have to watch him the whole time to ensure he is doing as he is supposed to do. I don't know what it is about slaves; you treat them well but they always try to take advantage of your good nature. You'd think they would be grateful to have a considerate master, wouldn't you?"

"There's nothing worse than a troublesome slave." Simon sympathises. "When I do encounter one, I usually cut my losses and sell him on. But it's not a problem I have to worry about too often. Most of my slaves are happy to delay being sold for as long as possible. They know that their next stop could well be at a comfort station. The fear of that's enough to keep them sweet tempered." Simon laughingly adds.

"I've had this particular slave for a number of years now and you're right; perhaps it's time to send him to the dealers. I guess his age is around thirty and I would think his options at auction are limited; most likely he'll spend his remaining years as a heavy duty, work slave. Yes, I think that's what I'll do; I'll send him to next week's auction. In the meantime I can keep him in order by using my whip to tickle his back a bit more."

The now panic stricken slave shuffles around spreading is legs further apart and elevating his rump even higher in an attempt to appease his Master. He begins to plead plaintively.

"I'm sorry, Master. Please forgive me, Master. Master, I'll behave Master. Please don't sell me, Master."

His pleas are ignored.

"I'm sorry, Simon." Sam apologises. "I guess you're not here to talk about my troublesome slave?" Then, looking at Simon's new slave, he adds. "Let me guess, you have a new slave in need of processing. Am I right?"

"Indeed you are, Sam. As you can see I've just taken delivery of a new slave and I'd like you to get him ready for service at the Patroklos Club".

"He's a prime slave. How did you come by him?"

"He only came on the market yesterday. Dave Matheson was handling his sale and he usually draws my attention to any slave he thinks I'd be interested in purchasing for the club. He told me about this one and once I'd inspected him I bought him immediately."

"It would appear you have purchased well, Simon. He's top quality. What do you have in mind for him?"

"He's to serve at the highest level as a pleasure slave and I need you to prepare him for his training."

"So what do you have in mind - the usual? What you'd like is removal of his body hair, branding, collaring and ringing? I know you like to keep it simple. Fortunately for the slave, I won't need to skin him."

"Yes, I think that's all that will need to be done. As you said - I like to keep it simple; just like my clients prefer."

"I wonder Simon, if I could ask for your opinion on a new initiative of mine. As you possibly know, I now operate an after-sales booth at Dave Matheson's auctions and I'm keen to give his clients a proper level of service. I think it's important for them to see the standard of service I can offer. I've set up a couple of display boards where they can peruse all the services I offer. Could I ask you to look at one of my displays and give me an honest assessment? In view of your wide experience with slaves, I'd really appreciate your opinion."

"Of course Sam, I'm only too happy to oblige. Let's see your display. Take me to it."

"There's no need to Simon." Sam laughs. "The display is already here." Then, turning to the slave who had followed him into the yard he barks the order to.

"STAND AND DISPLAY!"

Once the slave is in the display position, Sam adds. "Here he is Simon. What do you think?"

Simon is taken by surprise and runs a practised eye over the young slave's smooth, naked body and is pleasantly surprised. Aged about twenty, the slave is tall, well proportioned, with a pleasant appearance and has brown hair and eyes. His body is finely honed, with a clearly defined musculature and his tight, firm buttocks are delightfully curvaceous and held high. Simon believes he would be quite at home at the Patroklos Club; except for one thing.

The slave's body is heavily adorned with slave jewellery; Simon thinks this decoration is overdone. But he now knows that it is done for a reason; the slave is in fact one of the walking display boards that Sam Norton proposes to use to show off his wares to his prospective customers. 

The adornments that this slave wears are made of highly polished, gold coloured metal that contrasts beautifully with his deeply tanned hide. Apart from the heavy neck collar, the slave is also fitted with large nipple rings, a navel bar, earrings and a snout ring. He wears amulets around both biceps and matching bands around his wrists and ankles. 

Prominent on his right pectoral is a large, ornamental, freshly healed brand and Simon can see it is more recent than the S seared into the slave's left flank. However, Simon's gaze is centred on the slave's genitals.

The slave is extremely well-endowed with a long, thick cock and heavy balls that swing between his strong thighs. The cock and balls are gathered together in a three ring cinch that forces them into prominent display- Simon thinks that it makes for an extremely attractive package. It is the semi-erect cock, however that intrigues Simon. 

A heavy ring passes through the shaft of the circumcised cock just behind the knob- useful for leashing the slave - and running parallel down the underside of the penis is a Jacob's ladder or a series of small, frenum bars. Simon frowns at the slave's overall appearance; he believes it is spoiled by this overuse of body jewellery. 

But, for any owner wishing to decorate his own newly bought slave, the choice is made easier; he can actually view a slave whose body is already fitted with the adornments he is considering fitting on his new slave.

Simon admires Sam Norton's ingenuity in presenting his prospective clients with such graphic examples of his handiwork.

"Well, Simon, what do you think?"

"Sam, I congratulate you." Simon laughs heartily. "I admire your advertising skills and I have to admit it's putting the slave to good use. But tell me - how many display boards do you plan to use?"

"At the moment I'm only using two. However, I may expand on this number if it is warranted. The other slave is kitted out in silver and has different fittings to this one. As it's only a recent new idea of mine, I haven't had them on display yet. But I intend to introduce them to the public at Saturday's auction. My thought is to have them stand at display - one on either side of the entrance to my booth. Hopefully, their appearance might encourage customers to bring their newly purchased slaves in for augmentation."

"Sam, I think it's a wonderful idea and I compliment you on business acumen. Having the slaves display your wares should prove to be very popular with your clientele. But will the slaves be available for close hands-on inspections? Will you allow any interested parties to handle the slaves and inspect their bodies and your adornments?"

"I hadn't given any thought to that. Do you think that's necessary, Simon?"

"Yes I do, Sam. Putting myself into the shoes of one of your clients, I would want to inspect the quality of the fittings you use - and I know from experience that you use only the best - and to inspect that the flesh of the slaves has healed properly after their piercings and other operations. I should think a potential customer would want to know how their new purchase will heal after branding or skinning. Anyway, I assume your other display board is as appealing as this one. If you allow access to them, then both slaves could prove to be powerful enticements in bringing customers into your booth."

"Thank you for your suggestion, Simon. I see the wisdom in what you're saying and will act on your suggestion. But that's enough of my concerns. Let's get back to your new slave. With your permission I would like to start my inspection of him?"

"Go ahead, Sam. That's why we're here. He's at your disposal."

"STAND AND DISPLAY!" Sam barks at the slave.

Now, with his feet apart, the slave is posed, for the second time today and ready for inspection. Standing rigidly erect with his broad shoulders squared, his chest thrust out and belly sucked in, he bows his head in submission. 

His muscular chest rises and falls and his powerful stomach muscles ripple and flex in unison with his laboured breathing. The slave feels the throbbing artery at the side of his neck and, as usually happens when under inspection; his body begins a nervous quivering. He is aware of the involuntary clenching an unclenching of his buttocks and he feels his anus squirming as he considers the possibility of a digital exploration. He feels his balls moving within the confines of his tightening scrotum and his cock, acting in anticipation of its own impending inspection, begins to gradually inch itself back into life.

Slowly, Sam walks around the slave pausing to assess the body from each angle. The slave feels an occasional hand placed upon his body or a sharp finger pressed into his firm flesh. Then, finally, he is aware that Sam is standing directly in front of him.

Gently, Sam begins to ruffle the hair on the slave's chest; the slave quivers at his touch. Sam smiles at the slave's reaction to this and continues with his inspection. Wrapping the slave's chest hair around the tips of his fingers he begins a gentle tugging. He is evaluating the hair's strength subject to its removal; he is, in fact, judging just how much depilatory solution he'll need to apply to the slave and the duration it will remain on the body before its work is done. The hair has a fine, silky texture and Sam assesses the slave will be easy to strip. He decides to use a weaker solution but nevertheless he will leave it on overnight allowing time for it to take effect.

First, the slave will be hosed down and scrubbed clean before being chained, spreadeagled into a purpose built, and upright frame. This allows access to all parts of the slave's naked body making it easier to apply the depilatory solution. There, he will remain suspended overnight thus allowing plenty of time for the solution to do its work.

Unfortunately, the slave will have an uncomfortable night - but that can't be helped. He can, at least, be thankful that he requires only a weak application of the solution; slaves with thick, coarse coverings of body hair have to endure the pain of the full strength solution. Sam always insists these slaves are gagged as he finds their cries of distress annoying and intrusive.

Next, he turns his attention to the slave's nipples as he assesses them for their new rings. As he stretches and twists them, he is deciding how deep into the slave's flesh he needs to go. Sam always prefers to embed the rings well under the nipples; this allows the slave's user plenty of purchase for manipulation of the rings. Sam knows that this slave will be subjected to much vigorous handling at the Patroklos Club - the last thing that Simon would want is for his new slave to be damaged by having his nipple torn by an over-enthusiastic client. 

Still, the slave doesn't present any problems; both of his prominent nipples are delightful to the touch and, judging by the slave's squirming, they are also very sensitive. Sam feels they will prove to be popular with Simon's clients and will be much fondled.

Now, using his index finger, Sam follows the slave's treasure trail down over the undulating abdominal muscles and into the thick, pubic bush - although recently trimmed - he knows he will need to apply a stronger solution just here.

The slave's fully erect cock is standing out at right angles to the muscled plain of his belly and both balls are now held tightly in his scrotum. As Sam strokes the cock, he is rewarded with a dribble of pre-cum oozing out of the piss-slit. Obviously the slave is easily excited and Sam decides this will also work in the slave's favour at the Club.

As he enjoys the slave's responses to his touch, Sam is also gauging the genitals for cinching. Of course, the slave is fully aroused and it isn't easy to gauge the size of the cinch ring that he'll need to use. But Sam has much experience in these matters and knows that the slave, even at rest, is extremely well-endowed and he will require a larger than usual cinch ring. 

He knows that Simon likes the cocks of his pleasure slaves to be on prominent show and for them to wear their testicles suspended well down in their low hanging ball-sacs. This slave should present well to the patrons of the Patroklos Club.

"Is everything alright?" Simon asks suddenly. "The slave doesn't present a problem does he, Sam?"

"No not at all, Simon. Why do you ask?"

"It's just that you haven't made any comments and I thought possibly you'd found fault with him, Sam."

"I'm sorry, Simon. My silence was just a case of me enjoying my work. The slave is a delight to handle. I truly envy your patrons once they have access to him. No, I was thinking it's a pity to strip him of his body hair. I think it's one of his finer features - but then I prefer my slaves to have a bit of meat on their bones and to have hairy chests."

"I have to agree with you, Sam. I think the slave's body is enhanced by his chest covering and I'm attracted to the way his hair trails down over his belly to his cock. But my patrons like my slaves to be smooth bodied and I have to meet their requirements - otherwise I'd go out of business."

"Personally I enjoy fucking a hairy slave; but that's just my preference. I've never been able to work out why some men will only use smooth bodied slaves. Perhaps, it's because a hairy slave reminds them of themselves and, in that, they have feelings of insecurity. I guess they think that if a slave has a smooth, hairless body, then he isn't a man and it's alright to use him. What they forget is that a slave - hairy or smooth - isn't a man and it shouldn't make any difference in fucking him. Well, that's my opinion, anyway."

"And it's an interesting one too, Sam. Perhaps you're right? I know I've NEVER received a request for a hairy slave at the club. Obviously, my patrons like their slaves to have glabrous bodies and of course, I give them what they want."

"You're right of course, Simon. We're both businessmen and we have to pander to our customers' needs. Even though my personal preference is for hairy slaves, a major part of my business is the removal of body hair from slaves, so I just do it and give the client what he wants. After all, he owns the slave and is entitled to do with it whatever he feels is in his own best interests."

"That's a very wise attitude, Sam. And I'm relieved to know there isn't a problem with my slave."

Suddenly, Sam orders the slave to.

"TURN! BEND AND SPREAD!" 

The slave hastens to comply and with his feet spread wide and his head at knees height; he reaches behind and dutifully prises his buttocks apart. Now he is overcome with the humiliation that he always feels when ordered into this most degrading of positions. He feels the warm flush of his embarrassment burning in his face and his body trembles with the shame that engulfs him. Guiltily, he knows that soon he'll feel pleasure at the inevitable examination of the most private parts of his body. He shivers as he anticipates the intrusion of a finger into the deep, secret recesses of his being. He doesn't have long to wait.

He quivers at the touch of a finger as it wanders up and down the crevasse of his ass; pausing to tease his sensitive anus. His knees tremble and his legs shake as the finger continues to excite him and he feels his already erect prick grow even harder. He looks back between his legs to those of the man who is standing behind him - the man who is gently teasing, tormenting and frustrating him. He sees his own balls swinging low between his thighs and he feels his cock bobbing up and down in tune with his rapid breathing. His churning balls are crying out for release and he feels the first, tiny precursors of pleasure as his pre-cum oozes out to moisten the tip of his glans. Suddenly he cries out as the finger rudely thrusts into him.

He wriggles in enjoyable discomfort and he moans with pleasure as the finger massages his prostate gland. He whimpers softly as the finger slowly fucks him.

He is lost in the enjoyment of the moment and feels the mounting pressure in his balls as they seek to unload for the second time this afternoon. He hasn't been given permission to discharge and it takes all his previous training to prevent this from happening. And, as always, he anticipates the inevitable frustration and disappointment suffered by all slaves - that of being denied a spontaneous ejaculation. He simply submits to these manipulations of his body; after all, as a slave, he has no other choice.

"I have to say, Simon, you've got a winner with this one. He's tight and very responsive. I'm sure that he'll prove to be a popular addition to your stable of pleasure slaves."

"I hope you're right, Sam. I'm looking to recoup my investment in him in the shortest possible time. Still, averaging it out over five years, he should pay for himself many times over; and like all my slaves, he'll be made to work hard."

The slave gasps as, unexpectedly, his scrotum is pulled down and away from his body; he feels his balls being worked to the bottom of his sac. Almost lovingly, each is rolled between Sam's fingers before being subjected to a gentle squeeze.

"The slave has a great pair of knockers". Sam volunteers. "They're a good size and his ball-sac has a silky smooth feel to it."

"You really do enjoy your work don't you, Sam?" Simon laughs in reply.

Now, he is aware of a hand reaching in under his belly and the slave feels a fingertip delicately stroking the underside of his penis with feather like gentleness. He responds by moving his hips backwards and forwards in unison with the finger still thrusting into him. 

Hungrily, his muscles grip the intruding finger in a tight embrace and try to draw it deeper into him. He feels the involuntary working of these muscles as they grip and then relax their hold of Sam's finger. The slave is in a delirium of delight and he suffers the exquisite agony of having the sensitive underside of his cock teased as, at the same time, his hole is fucked.

The slave's mind is a tangle of confused and conflicting thoughts. He knows that his body is being abused against his will; yet, if he is honest with himself, he has to admit to enjoying this misuse of him as an object of pleasure. His enjoyment is stronger than any sense of shame that he currently feels. He considers his future at the Patroklos Club. He knows that he will be forced to submit to his new master's patrons and he now wonders if he'll find those experiences as rewarding as this one. 

He sincerely hopes so and shivers in anticipation. Perhaps, just perhaps, his life as a `pleasure slave' will have its rewards?

Suddenly, Sam withdraws his fingers from the slave's body leaving it in a state of unfulfilled desire. His hole feels strangely empty and his prick twitches with disappointment.

Now, as his hands roam over the soft, down covered cheeks of the slave's buttocks, Sam marvels at their warm, silky smoothness. He slaps the slave's hands away and prises wide the cleft to examine the hair growth around the puckering hole. He notes that some work will be required to meet the demands of Simon's clients.

"Fortunately, the slave's ass isn't too hairy. He just has a light, fuzzy covering of baby down; quite easy to remove." Sam tells Simon. "However, I'll need to work on his crack; there's some longer, coarser growth in there, I'm afraid. It's a pity really - I do like a slave who has `grass growing at the entrance to the burrow'. Still we have to give your clients what they want."

Then as Sam traces the outline of the S brand on the slave's left flank he adds almost as an after-thought. "Excellent, the slave takes the branding iron very well indeed. His brand is sharp and crisp and the outline is clearly defined - just as it should be."

The inspection now finished, Sam slaps the slave on the ass and orders him to.

"STAND! FACE THE FRONT AND DISPLAY!"

"Simon, I have to say this is one of the best slaves you have had me work on. Look, I'll go further and say he is the BEST slave to date. My congratulations to you! When you have him up and running, I'll have to visit the Patroklos and sample him for myself."

"Please do visit the club, Sam. And they'll be no charge; you can use the slave for free."

"That's generous of you, Simon. But look.... I'm sorry.... I wasn't hinting for a free fuck. It's just that the slave has a very appealing ass and my comment was made in jest."

"I know you weren't, Sam. Let's say this is my way of thanking you for looking after the special needs for my slaves."

"Then I accept your kind offer and thank you, Simon. Now, when do you want me to begin work on him?"

"Whenever, it's convenient for you to do so, Sam. The sooner the better as far as I'm concerned. I'm keen to start his training as soon as possible."

"I have several other jobs underway at the moment, but one more won't make a lot of difference. If you like, I can make a start on your slave today?"

"That's great; Sam and I really appreciate it."

"Good! I'll get my slaves to take him away and make a start on him. He'll spend the night in a stripping frame and then in the morning we'll hose him down and clean him up. Then we'll collar him, fit his rings and cinch his genitals. After that, all that needs to be done is to brand him. I'll need your branding iron, however. Do you want me to send a `boy' over to the club to collect it or will you arrange to have it delivered here?"

"There's no need for either, Sam. I came prepared and have the brand with me; it's in a bag under the seat of my rickshaw. I'll go and get it."

"Stay where you are, Simon. My slave will fetch it; after all that's what he's here for. Anyway why keep a dog and bark yourself, I always say."

Then Sam turns to the still kneeling yard porter and orders.

"ON YOUR FEET! Run and fetch Master Jackson's bag from under the seat of his carriage. COME ON! MOVE YOURSELF!"

The slave, anxious to please his angry Master scrambles to his feet and hastens to carry out his instructions.

"RUN! I SAID MOVE YOUR LAZY ASS AND BE QUICK ABOUT IT! QUICKLY!" Sam shouts after the slave.

The contrite slave hastily retrieves the bag and returns; he passes the bag to the young display slave as instructed and drops to his knees. He is ignored by his Master.

"Simon, I notice your ponies are restless. They seem to be doing a lot of fidgeting."

"Are they? I hadn't noticed, Sam. I suppose they could be thirsty; come to think of it they haven't had any water since lunchtime. Or it could be that they need to relieve themselves. I've trained them not to urinate in public."

"Would you like my slave to give them water, Simon?"

"Yes please, Sam. I suppose they do need a drink. It's a very hot day and they still have a lot of running to do. But would you instruct your slave not to overwater them. I don't want a lot of water sloshing around in their bellies as they run - it makes them too sluggish and slows them down. In fact, I always run my ponies on empty stomachs. I only give them a very light feed in the morning; they have to wait until evening when they've finished their duties for their main feed. I've always found that a pony performs best on an empty belly."

"Back up on your feet and attend to Master Jackson's ponies." Sam instructs his porter. "COME ON! You heard Master Jackson - don't give his ponies too much to drink. Then get a bucket and help them to piss. QUICKLY! MOVE YOURSELF!"

"Sam, I notice you refer to me as Master Jackson rather than Mr Jackson when speaking to your slave. Why is that?" Simon asks as he watches the porter hurry off to obey his master's orders.

"Oh! It's just a matter of courtesy, really, Simon. I refer to all my clients as `Master' in the presence of my slaves. I believe it's important for a slave to see all free men as either a master or a potential master. It fixes in their minds that they are worthless slaves and all free men are their masters. After all, a slave really does need to know his true worth, doesn't he? I never miss an opportunity to impress that upon a slave."

"That makes sense. But tell me Sam; when will my slave be ready for pick-up?"

"We'll make a start on him immediately and scrub him down ready for hair stripping - that'll happen overnight. Then, in the morning we'll hose him down and then kit him out with his collar, rings and cinch. That won't take very long. Speaking of collars; do you want me to fit him with a new one or do you have a re-cycled one from the club I can use? I appreciate a platinum collar is very expensive and usually you do have a spare collar or two as you downgrade your slaves from platinum to gold."

"No I don't have any spares at the club at the moment. So you'll need to use a new collar on him. I have two or three downgrades pending; but these won't happen for a few more weeks yet. I suppose you have a platinum collar in stock, Sam?"

"Simon, I've always got a few spares, as I know you'll require them at some time. But what about his identification number? Do you know what it is?"

"Yes Sam, I do. I checked before I left the club. His number is `327'. That's how'll he'll be known to the club's patrons."

"Good! Then I'll have his number engraved on the collar before it's fixed around his neck. Now what about his branding? Naturally it'll be done last. Do you want to be present, Simon?"

"I'm not sure whether I'll have time. I have several appointments I must keep in the morning. It's unlikely I'll be free until lunchtime, Sam."

"Look Simon. If you like, I can hold back on his branding until you have time to be present. After all it doesn't take long to apply a brand - just a few seconds really. I can have the slave strapped down ready for when you arrive."

"Thank you, Sam. I could be here shortly after midday if that's a convenient time for you?"

"Then, I'll make it so, Simon. I think it's important for a slave to have his new owner present when he is branded. He needs to feel his Master's presence as the brand is seared into his hide. It helps to fix into his mind that the brand he now wears identifies him as belonging to his new Master. And I think it helps the Master to accept that the slave is now truly his. I always feel the Master's presence as a slave is branded is a bit like witnessing the birth of one's child."

"That's an interesting comparison, Sam." Simon laughs. "I'd never thought of a branding in quite those terms. I'll bear that in mind tomorrow as I watch my new slave being branded. After that I can take him with me back to the Patroklos Club ready to begin his training in earnest."

"Simon, you realise it'll take a few days for the slave to heal. You'll need to be easy on him for a start. He is after all a very valuable piece of property."

"I know, Sam and I will start him off lightly, don't worry. For the first few days he'll be instructed in slave etiquette and good manners. He was only a field hand until yesterday and he lacks the basics of good behaviour I require of my slaves when serving the needs my clients."

"Well then, Simon. Thank you for your custom and I'm sure you'll be pleased with the results when you take delivery of him tomorrow. I'll personally make sure he lives up to your expectations - at least in appearance. The rest will be up to you and your trainers."

"I hope for his sake, the slave is a fast learner and doesn't try my patience. And thank you, Sam, for your prompt service. As always, I know I can count on you."

The slave, soon to be known as `327' is now led away to begin his transformation into the newest addition to the stable of `pleasure slaves' at the Patroklos Club.

As they shake hands, Simon adds.

"Oh by the way, Sam. Good luck at Saturday's auction with your display boards. I'm sure they'll prove to be very popular."


To be continued.............
















