Delta Enterprises, Ltd.

DELTA ENTERPRISES, INC.

By Bill Smith

[Please forward your feedback and comments to the author, Bill Smith, at anonymous4371@juno.com. It's always good to know what others think of a story.]

PART 5:

TRADE-IN TIME

"Sheik Amani, John Thomas Hughes here, calling from Miami," the soft voice announced over the phone.

"John, great to hear from you again," the Sheik graciously responded. "What can I do for one of my favorite customers and how is that curly headed blond Greek working out I sold you recently?"

"You can help me out quite a bit, I hope, and the Greek boy is earning his keep as we speak with some of my customers - he's very popular with them." John Hughes laughed. "Do you remember Bruce Howard, my administrative assistant?"

"Ah! The business manager who follows DELTA's maintenance manual to the hilt! A very wise man. I've never had the pleasure of meeting him, but I've certainly heard you speak of him highly often enough," the Sheik replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, Bruce is still with me - as valuable as ever in running my operation here in Miami - and he came up with a great idea that I wanted to discuss with you personally, Sheik, " Mr. Hughes began to explain. "But Bruce can explain the details better than I - he's on one of the extensions - could I have him explain it to you?"

"Perfect, John," the Sheik replied, "and so good to meet you, Bruce, if only by phone. Mr. Hughes has always spoken so highly of you over the years."

"Mr. Hughes holds you in great respect, Sheik Amani, as I most certainly do after working with your products," Bruce said humbly. "I've never been disappointed in any purchases Mr. Hughes has made from DELTA, LTD - just the opposite."

"That's exactly what we hope to hear from our valued customers. What's your idea?" Sheik Amani quickly cut to the heart of the matter.

"Well, Sheik Amani, we have nine DELTA products that are, frankly, getting a little long in the tooth for the kind of use we put them to," Bruce started out. "They would be fine as a ever eager houseboy or a private party's bed buck where they'd be used at most two or three times a day, but here they're used 10 to 15 times a day and usually get a tummy full of cum to digest when they don't have their bottoms in use. After a boy has been used like that for a decade, it's getting to be time for a rest, no matter how willing they continue to be."

"Well said, Bruce," Sheik Amani laughed. "I'm glad to hear they're still in there hustling though," he chuckled again. "I suggest selling them off to some of your customers - surely they'll still be fine just satisfying one or two users a day - and buying up some fresh stock. Or maybe it's time I told you and Mr. Hughes about our popular trade-in program here in Oman."

"Sheik, we don't feel comfortable selling the stock off to our customers," Mr. Hughes interjected. "Most of them have never owned slaves of their own and don't know the first thing about slave management. I'm afraid things would get out of hand fast if we sold them off locally and, besides, most of them are blabbermouths and word would soon be all over town about owning a slave and other talk that might interest the local authorities, especially around election time. I doubt if they give a damn the rest of the time," he added. "As it is, we just pass our DELTA stock off as willing employees who like to wear a collar welded around their neck and who like to get fucked regularly as an easy alternative to working. My customers are used to hustlers - they're cheap and a dime a dozen down here in Miami - so they just think I keep a stable of full-time hustlers on hand who'll do anything to please my best customers for what I'm paying them."

"Clever," Sheik Amani replied. "I suppose you have to have some cover in a country that's so sensitive, silly really, on the subject. Well, you're a prime candidate for the DELTA trade-in program. It's simple enough. You bring your original DELTA stock back to us here at DELTA, LTD. and we'll give you 80% of what we'll price them at after a complete refurbishing program here in our training and workout facilities. That gives us a 20% margin to cover the cost of refurbishing and marketing expenses. You pay full price for the new stock you replace them with, all coming with a fresh DELTA guarantee of course."

"We're talking about stock in their late 20s and early 30s now who have seen a lot of use," Mr. Hughes warned. "They still look fine - we keep them on a strict controlled diet and exercise program as you know and their attitude remains as good as ever - but, Sheik, they've been fucked 10 to 15 times a day year round year after year. I bet some of them are over the 5000 mark by now," Mr. Hughes laughed. "That's what I call an experienced boy," he chortled. "Either experienced or calloused."

"Certainly experienced," Sheik Amani laughed back, "but they still have 10 to 15 years of active service left in them, albeit probably not at the same rate. But a little rest from active duty, and a quick retraining so we are sure we can resell them with our usual DELTA guarantee of satisfaction and they will probably bring a higher market price than you seem to be assuming. They're a long way from organ harvesting yet," he chuckled. "Some potential buyers are looking for older, well-used stock - that's all that turns them on for some reason or another. Exactly who are we talking about anyway?"

"You couldn't possibly remember the stock, Sheik Amani," John Hughes said. "It's been over a decade now since you sold them to me."

"Try me, John. You seem to forget Allah has blessed me with a great memory," the Sheik shot back.

"Well, we want to replace INDIA, PLEASURE, CAGE 14, and WACO as starters," Mr. Hughes said. "Bruce, who are the others?"

"CAR 7, EAGER, MIAMI, STUD, and DRIVER 2," Bruce added.

"STUD still going? After all he's been though? But selling that boy to the Saudi prince illustrates your problem beautifully. It sounded good on the surface and I'm sure you made a good profit selling him, but what that boy went through once he was shipped back to Saudi Arabia and put to use there, it's a good thing the Prince decided to trade him in on another one of our boys so we could get him put back together again and shipped back to his home in Florida. I knew you wanted him back, but I didn't know you had him back in full usage again."

"He's still going, Sheik, and going strong. We bought him back to serve as a supervisor as you know, and he is still is one of our supervisors, but he begged us to put him back into regular usage, so we did eventually. He's still supervising part time for us, but he says he feels a lot better earning his keep like the other boys," Mr. Hughes laughed. "Our customers still love him, used as he is. I think that's what he missed so badly - having that big body loved and admired. I don't want to denigrate your training, Sheik, but STUD is truly a natural whore."

"STUD was very well trained, John, despite what you think are his natural proclivities," Sheik Amani chuckled. He returned to the topic at hand. "INDIA's type doesn't really age - those willowy types last at least well into their 40s. He's still bring a good price on the market. PLEASURE, that big blond, is hung so well he's still bring top dollar, as will WACO for the same reason, although WACO is so damn dumb he needs a situation where's he's told everything, even when to wipe his ass. As long as he's in a heavily structured situation, like you offer him there in Miami, Bruce, he'll do just fine. We'll only sell him to a situation like that to make sure his new owner will be happy - probably a brothel chain where he won't have to make any decisions at all. PLEASURE is perfect for the connoisseur who likes to collect real beauties. EAGER was that younger version of STUD as I recall - hung like a horse - and black to boot. Either he or STUD would be perfect for the buyer whose looking for a slave that will fuck them on command anytime they want anyway they want. They're both got the equipment buyers are looking for in that area. CAGE 14, DRIVER 2 and CAR 7 we can put to work right here doing what they did before we sold them to you. CAGE 14 was a great telemarketer and DRIVER 2 and CAR 7 both had supervisory roles as DELTA chauffeurs. They had to keep DELTA's little welcoming and parting gifts that we place in all our limousines in line at all times as well as show some polish in handling our customers. They won't get used much themselves once they're back here, but they will sure earn their keep. Of course, we'll keep them in our catalogue so that if anyone's interested, they're free to buy them. That's how you got them to start with, as I recall, John," Sheik Amani chuckled.

"If Allah gave you a memory like that, Sheik, I'm ready to convert," John Hughes said in utter amazement. You sold me that stock 10 years ago with the exception of STUD and you remember them like it was yesterday. What particularly amazes me is how you can remember them when no doubt you've sold thousands and thousands since then."

"Around 20,000 over the past decade if you count in our contract sales for third parties," the Sheik announced. "And, yes, I remember almost everyone of them. I told you I had a good memory."

"I can barely remember the names of the stock here," Bruce said, absolutely overwhelmed by the man he was talking to.

"Well, John, all that stock you mentioned will be fine as trade-ins. You will need to get them over here to us - or perhaps you'd like me to arrange the transfer?"

"No, Sheik Amani. I'll bring them over myself and, Sheik, if I can, I'd like to bring Bruce with me - he's certainly interested in your training program as my administrative assistant here. He's a stickler for following your manual precisely with our stock here."

"Normally, we don't allow anyone but purchasers here, John, as you know. But Bruce is an obvious exception having managed our stock for so many years and since he has long proven his discreteness. Both of you are welcome, whenever you like, as my personal guest. of course."

"That's what I was hoping to hear, Sheik. We'll take you up on it. Is a week from Thursday convenient? We'd be able to pick out some new stock and give Bruce a chance to visit your training facilities in a two-night visit which will give us a full day there at DELTA's training and holding facilities."

"Perfect, John. I'll tell our staff here at DELTA to make all the arrangements. That will include pickup for you two at the airport when you let us know your scheduled flights, transfer of your stock to our pens here, a guest suite at one of DELTA's hotels, a complete tour of DELTA's training center for Bruce, and John, while Bruce is occupied with that, you and I can visit the holding pens and see what's available and to your liking."

"Your usual efficiency is totally evident, Sheik," John Hughes commented warmly. "Bruce is in for the experience of a lifetime."

"I've wanted to visit DELTA headquarters ever since I first laid eyes on the stock Mr. Hughes purchased from you. I never dreamed boys could be trained to that level and look that good all in one package," Bruce added.

"Sheik, Bruce was a hustler for many years before he started working for me. That's a high compliment coming from a person whose been in the trade so to speak."

"Indeed it is. Takes one to know one, as they say. A high compliment indeed and much appreciated," the Sheik replied. "Bruce, a lot of our boys come from backgrounds like yourself - MIAMI is an example of that. But for fate, you might have ended up one of DELTA's products yourself."

"I've thought about that, Sheik Amani, and I've wondered if I would have adjusted as well. I came to the conclusion that with your training program, I probably would have ended up as good as they are and been just as happy in the process."

"I see why you like Bruce so well, John," Sheik Amani responded. "And Bruce, you're right, once a boy is well trained, he's a happy slave. That's the mark of a good training program. But I'm sure fate led you to Mr. Hughes where I get the feeling you're pretty satisfied as it is without all the bother of going through the DELTA process," the Sheik laughed.

"Couldn't be happier, Sheik Amani, as you said. But if fate had taken a different course, I'm not sure I wouldn't have made one of those happy slaves you're talking about. You're not going to throw me in the training program once I'm in Oman, are you?" Bruce joked. "I'm a little too old for most people's taste anymore and frankly, would starve if I was still hustling the streets of Miami. About all that's left of my glory days is a big dick."

"Don't knock it, Bruce," the Sheik chuckled. "You would be surprised what we could get for you on the open market here, but don't worry, we leave our customers alone. Why kill the golden goose, I believe you Westerners put it?"

"I never saw so much sand in my life, Mr. Hughes," Bruce exclaimed as he looked out the window of their first class seat on the plane nearing Muscat. "Is Muscat all sand too?"

"No, it's on the ocean and quite picturesque. DELTA, LTD. is located right in town so its close to the shipping ports as well as the airport and all the major hotels. But DELTA, LTD. must take up five or six blocks, all of it at least 14 stories high - it's so big. You'll be impressed, Bruce. I imagine they have at least 1000 at any one time in their holding pens already trained and ready for sale. And at least 2000 in training at one stage or another. Bruce, they can produce anything. When I was here ten years ago, they were training a team of giants to serve as draft horses for someone or other - wanted them to pull his carriage on his estate or some such thing. Sheik Amani said it was a special order because this buyer only wanted huge slaves for the task. What I saw were giants, I tell you. Our customers in Miami would have fallen in them, they were so big," Mr. Hughes laughed as he sipped his freshened drink. "Wonder how the boys made the trip?"

"They were fine when we transferred planes in London, Mr. Hughes. I supervised them in the rest rooms and made sure they flushed themselves out thoroughly before putting their butt plugs back in. This flight is so long though I imagine those plugs have fucked them half to death by now if they squirmed around much."

"Well, I'm sure it kept them good and hard the whole way regardless. I just hope they didn't shoot in their pants though. It would make quite a show," Mr. Hughes said professionally.

"Don't worry, Mr. Hughes. Just in case, I put a pad in the front of their jock straps. That way, their erections won't show and, if they're leaking, that won't show either."

"Good thinking, Bruce. Once they're transferred to DELTA's vans at the airport, they'll strip them anyway and that will be the last clothes those boys will have on for a long while."

By the time they finished their drinks, the huge jetliner was landing in Muscat. As they deplaned into the terminal, they spotted the sign "DELTA, LTD" held by a stunningly handsome Arab not a day over 18 dressed in the traditional flowing robe.

"John Hughes and his business associate, Mr. Bruce Howard. We're guests of Sheik Amani," Mr. Hughes said to the boy.

"Yes, master," the boy said softly with his eyes cast respectfully downward. "If you will be so kind as to wait behind me just a few minutes, I am to also pick up two other DELTA customers."

Bruce and Mr. Hughes stepped to one side and within a minute, two others approached the boy. Immediately the boy asked the foursome to follow him to the waiting limousine. "Your stock will be transferred to the vans within minutes, masters," and sneaking a peek upwards, added "and mistress. Don't worry - they will probably be securely stripped and in the intake pens before we wind through all the traffic. Let me assure you, masters and mistress, that DELTA's handlers will get them through customs and passport control with no delays. If you would just give me your passports for a few moments, I will handle the passport control for you so you don't have to deal with it yourself. "

All four of us handed the boy our passports and took a seat in the comfortable lounge. Within two minutes, he was back with passports stamped and visas issues for each of us which he promptly handed to each of us with a quick bow which gave us a quick glimpse of the bright copper collar around his neck.

"Are you a DELTA slave?" the lady in our group asked brazenly as the boy led us to the limousine.

"Yes, mistress," the boy replied with no emotion.

"Well, where did they get you from?" she continued.

"I'm Omani stock," the handsome boy said with a note of pride in his voice. "DELTA bought me from a trader in the north of our country. The village elders sold me to him when my parents were killed in an accident. Orphans without family are usually sold into slavery as a kindness," he added.

"A kindness? Being sold into lifetime slavery is a kindness?" she brassily continued her inquiries.

"Yes, mistress. That way we always have a family ourselves - the family of our new owner. There is nothing worse in Oman than not belonging to a family. Within an owner's family we are always fed and sheltered and even trained sometimes to make ourselves useful. DELTA has done that for me and I'm most grateful, of course," he concluded in his perfect but accented English. "I now speak seven languages quite well , know how to drive all types of vehicles, get to meet my owner's best customers, have learned to use my body to please others to their satisfaction, and even get to wear clothes when I'm chauffeuring. I'm most fortunate, as are all of the slaves owned by DELTA. Soon, they will probably sell me off to one of their customers. I'll regret leaving my home here, of course, but look forward to serving a new master as he sees fit."

"Well, you ARE well trained, boy, and I was right about you being an Arab yourself," the woman continued.

"Yes, mistress. Thank you, mistress."

"What the hell you thanking me for?" the brassy woman bellowed out.

"For commenting on my being well trained, mistress, and about being an Arab," the slave replied without hesitation or irritation. "It's a compliment to my owner, DELTA, LTD. We're almost to the limousines now, so I will explain our local customs. Men and women do not ride together in the same car unless they are within a family. Therefore, mistress, we have one limousine for you and the three masters can ride in the other one if you don't mind."

"Well, I do mind," the brassy lady shot back. "DELTA isn't dumping me into some second hand transportation just because I'm a woman. They warned me back in New York to expect just this sort of thing," her eyes blackened in fury. "I might as well have stayed with the stock I brought over - they're probably traveling better than I am."

"Your limousine is brand new, mistress, and DELTA has furnished your vehicle with some welcoming gifts I'm sure you'll appreciate," the beautiful boy said as he opened the door of the lady's waiting limousine. On the floor of the rear compartment, kneeling with their hands behind their necks to best display their bodies, were two collared slaves that simply took your breath away. Both were stark nude, fully erect, and very heavily hung. One was a huge blond about 20 years old with a hairless body that was squeaky clean, long blond hair flowing down to his shoulders and beautiful blue eyes. His muscular development was spectacular and both of his prominent tits were ringed as were his huge genitals. The other was a medium sized black, in his mid-twenties probably, with short-cut curly hair, deep black eyes, pearly teeth, and a body that looked like it was carved out of black marble, glistening from a fresh oiling. "These boys are a welcoming gift from DELTA, mistress," the slave chauffeur explained, "and want to please you any way you desire on your way to your hotel. If you are pleased with them, just tell your chauffeur and he will have them delivered to your hotel room for your enjoyment during your stay with us here in Muscat. They are fully trained to provide all the pleasures a women could want," the Omani slave explained, "and will do exactly what they are told, so have no fears. Any breach of discipline, even a hint of non-compliance to any possible command, should be reported to he hotel staff immediately if you decide to keep them during your stay, and they will quickly handle the situation under DELTA's instructions. "

The woman took one look at the kneeling slaves, blushed when she realized we three men were as interested in the slaves as she was, and without a word, jumped into the limousine pulling the door shut behind her before the chauffeur could do it for her.

"Well, that shut her up," the third man said laughing. "I'm Frederick Muldoon from Ireland."

"Mr. John Hughes and Bruce Howard from Miami, Florida," Mr. Hughes promptly replied extending his hand with Bruce following suit. "Glad to meet you, Mr. Muldoon."

"Likewise, Mr. Hughes and Mr. Howard." Nodding his head toward the departing limousine, he added, "By the time that bitch leaves, I imagine those two boys in that car are going to be completely drained. They'll have to rest them for a week before putting those two back in service," he laughed. "Isn't that about right, boy?" he asked the Omani slave.

"Masters are always right, but those two boys have been assigned to my limousine before and they seem tireless, master, even when they were assigned to hotel usage for two or three days. Of course, this situation is probably different, as you point out, master."

"These DELTA boys are really trained well, aren't they," Mr. Muldoon said in obvious admiration at the smooth answer. "And seven languages to boot."

"Have you been here before, Mr. Muldoon?" Mr. Hughes asked.

"First visit, Mr. Hughes. But I've got a friend who owns a DELTA product and I've always wanted one for myself. Finally, I got clearance from DELTA to visit and I'm excited, let me tell you. Although I understand this is going to cost me a pretty penny if I find what I'm looking for?"

"I'm sure it will, Mr. Muldoon. But exactly what are you looking for, if I may ask?" Mr. Hughes pressed as they continued following the Omani slave to the waiting limousine.

"Always wanted a pure black boy, muscular as all get out but rather short so I'd be bigger than he was, and I want one that has a wasp like waist and a huge chest topped with some really overdeveloped pecs. Sort of a top-heavy boy if you know what I mean. I really go for that tiny little waist with a big load of manhood hanging between his legs - I like my boys very heavy hung," he laughed. "Think I'll find it here?"

"I'm sure you will, Mr. Muldoon. I've been here before and was amazed at the selection."

"Masters, your car," the Omani slave announced as he opened the door and the welcome cool air poured out. On the floor, kneeling, were three collared slaves similar to the slaves placed in the lady's car. "Your welcoming gifts are kneeling here, and should be able to please you any way you want. If they don't perform to your exact wishes, just lift this intercom and inform me," the slave said picking up an intercom mike built into the door. "The slaves will be immediately disciplined," he said, looking straight at the slaves in a clearly threatening way. Mr. Hughes noticed one of the slaves shiver when he heard the supervisory slave, but he never broke his stance of displaying his full body.

"Well, I see the lady didn't get all the goodies," Mr. Muldoon said as he entered the limo, gazing at the three naked slaves all in full erection. Like in the other limousine, one was a Nordic blond, one was an African black, and one looked to be like the all-American boy with light brown tousled hair, bright blue eyes, a deeply tanned but very smooth skin, a classic handsome face, but sported a lot bigger genitals and considerably more muscles than most Americans. There wasn't an ounce of fat on any of the three of them and all featured thin highly muscled waists.

"Where are these slaves from?" Mr. Hughes asked the Omani chauffeur before he closed the door behind them.

"The blond is from Russia, master - he just recently graduated from DELTA training so we haven't had him for a long period yet. I believe his training took 10 months, though, so he probably had no previous experience with slavery. The black we've had for some time. He's from Chad originally and DELTA bought him from a dealer in Chad who ran a breeding operation for slaves there. He's been a slave all his life, so his training here was minimal - just a month or so in DELTA's training program before he was put into full service. The other slave," the Omani slave paused briefly, "is one Sheik Amani thought you might enjoy. He's from your own country. DELTA bought him out of one of your prisons, I believe, but trained him to his station in life here. He too was in training for quite some time before he could be guaranteed by DELTA," the Omani explained matter-of-factly as if we were discussing the processing of chickens.

"First call on the black boy," Mr. Muldoon said excitedly as he reached forward and lifted the slave's bowed face so he could study it better. "Did you see how all these boys are wasp- waisted?" he added with enthusiasm. "Just like I was looking for. You were right, Mr. Hughes. Looks like I've already found at least one to my liking," as his hand slid down and grasped the black slave's erect organ.

By the time the limousine was out of the parking lot, the black was busily suckling the Irish master with hollowed cheeks and a few gasps as he choked for air around the shaft deep down his throat. He plummeted his head up and down the Irishman's shaft to provide maximum pleasure. The Russian was straddling Bruce on the limo seat pumping his ass up and down on Bruce's shaft so that the slave was doing on the work in getting himself fucked. Mr. Hughes had the American slave still kneeling in front of him with his throat wrapped around his prick and with his new master busily kneading his tits until they were fully erect and supersensitive. By the time, they reached their downtown hotel, all three slaves had been fucked in the ass at least twice in various positions, had swallowed several loads of hot cum, and had been played with so much they had orgasmed at least twice themselves. Their copious loads were now being dutifully licked up off the carpeted floor of the limousine. Mr. Muldoon had ended up fucking the black twice himself, but still managed to fuck the American as well, while Bruce fucked the black once after he was through with the Russian, but was content to just get sucked off by the American boy. Mr. Hughes, a little older and more circumspect, was content just having the American boy suck him off and then fucking him, but did get the black to suck him off a second time. He never did get to the Russian slave.

"As the limousine door was opened by the Omani slave, the beautiful boy inquired, "Were the gifts pleasing, masters?" When we agreed they were just that, he then asked, "Did you notice any lack of enthusiasm in their duties, masters?" When we answered we hadn't noticed anything but full cooperation with our wishes, the Omani slave seemed pleased, even relieved. "Do you wish to keep them for your use during your visit with us, masters?" Before we could answer, he added, "including me, of course, masters. I too am available for your full usage at any time you desire, including staying in your hotel room when I'm off duty for your pleasure. I'd be happy to disrobe for your inspection once we're in your hotel room, masters, before you decide."

All three of us decided we wanted to use the boys during our stay and that, yes, we would probably enjoy the Omani slave as well during his off-hours if that could be arranged.

"Of course, masters. I will get you settled in your rooms now and within 15 minutes or so we'll have these boys through the back entrance and up the freight elevators with your luggage. They'll be covered with a simple cotton robe, but they will strip as soon as they are in your hotel room. They have been instructed to save their robe for their exit from the hotel at the end of your stay. They will go out with your luggage the same way they came in. That way, they will be in the limousine for your last minute amusement before you are due to depart. I will join you around 9 o'clock tonight after I have picked up DELTA's last customer and deliver him to the hotel here. He, of course, might want to use me too, but, if so, I can move from room to room easily enough."

"If you make more trips to the airport for arriving customers, don't these boys have to go with you to service them too?" Mr. Muldoon asked.

"No master, if you want these boys for your use, I simply pick up replacements at the holding pens in DELTA. That's where I got these, although Sheik Amani had picked these three out special for you. I suppose who I pick up out of the pens will also be picked out special for my next arriving customers. We generally have 15 to 20 boys in the hotels with our guests any given night, not including the drivers like myself, masters."

"Well, if we're going to be keeping them in the hotel with us, we better have their labels, slave," Mr. Hughes said.

"Of course, master. The black slave is labeled BLACKIE, the blond slave is labeled RUS, the American slave is labeled NEVADA, and I am labeled OMAR. Of course, those are just temporary labels. You can name us anything you like, masters."

"Well, OMAR, I want to see you stripped in the hotel room before I decide. I'm kind of picky in my old age."

"Of course, master," OMAR said with no hesitation.

The Omani slave waved at the hotel clerk in acknowledgment of the pre-arrangements that had obviously been made for our visit and took us directly to our room, giving us duplicate keys for the rooms, showing us the air-conditioning controls and displaying the large courtly bathroom. Each room was actually a large luxurious suite, with a bleak adjoining room for attending servants. It was obvious here in Oman no one with the price of a hotel room traveled without taking some servants with them to attend to their needs and the hotels were designed accordingly. After giving us time to get settled and wash up, OMAR again arrived with the three slaves who were carrying our luggage.

"You can pick a slave out just for yourself, or you can share them. It makes no difference," OMAR said as the three slaves quickly stripped naked and folded their cotton tunic up for the return trip. Likewise, OMAR stripped and assumed the universal display position for trained slaves: feet wide apart, hands in back of the neck to best display the body, and with pelvis thrust forward for easy inspection.

"Turn around, OMAR and bend over. I want to see your ass," Mr. Hughes commanded. Instantly the slave complied and exposed his hole for the master's inspection. Mr. Hughes inserted his forefinger as far as it would go up the slave's hole and twisted it around a bit. "Good, you're still nice and tight. What do you say, fellows, shall we share and share alike or did you want that black all for yourself, Mr. Muldoon? As for me, I want to fuck OMAR here when he's off duty, among other things. You've got one beautiful body, don't you, boy?"

"I'm happy it pleases you, master," OMAR promptly responded, still bent over with his hole exposed since he hadn't been told to reassume display position.

"Let's share," Mr. Muldoon said. "The black's a special treat for me, but everyone needs variety. Besides, I imagine I'll get all the use out of that black that I'm capable of anyway. I'm not indefatigable, you know, like these slaveboys seem to be."

"Good choice, Mr. Muldoon. But remember these slaves are specially trained for usage. No telling what you could do if you were the recipient of the same training program they've been through," Bruce added. "I was a hustler for years, and when my body was my meal ticket, it was surprising how many times I could get it up and unload. You'd be surprised, Mr. Muldoon. It's all a question of survival," he laughed.

"Call me Frederick, Bruce. And can I call you John, Mr. Hughes. It seems too formal to be using last names when we're all going to be stripped to the buff shortly," Mr. Muldoon laughed, "especially when we're with boys who just have temporary labels here to entertain us."

"Position, OMAR," Mr. Hughes commanded and the slave instantly went from his bent over position exposing his ass hole to his original upright display. Mr. Hughes reached down and began kneading his genitals until they were fully erect. "Nice equipment here," he commended with the shaft was fully swollen to four inches circumference and nine inches in length. "And I like them circumcised like this," Mr. Hughes commented as he ran his hand over the clipped end. "They do this at DELTA?"

"No, master. I was circumcised when I was three years old as are most Arab boys of the faith."

"Of course," Mr. Hughes responded. "A neat cut."

"Thank you, master," OMAR responded as his organ swelled even larger in the master's caress.

"Anyone else interested in fucking OMAR here?" Mr. Hughes asked, or is it just me that has a thing for good looking Arabs?"

"Count me in," Bruce said followed almost instantly by Mr. Muldoon, stating "that boy's too good looking to not fuck when you get a chance."

"Well, it's unanimous then, OMAR. We're all going to enjoy that handsome body of yours."

"That pleases me, masters," OMAR said humbly. "I'll be here in your room as quickly as I finish my chauffeuring duties. If someone else decides to use me after I leave, I will inform you when I return so you will understand my leaving as soon as you are finished with me to your complete satisfaction."

"I knew you'd work it out somehow," Mr. Muldoon said with some admiration. "DELTA seems to have their act done pat."

As soon as OMAR put his robe back on over his collared neck and left, each of the guests grabbed one of the slaves and took him to his private suite for round one. This time Bruce took the black, Mr. Hughes took the Russian, and Mr. Muldoon took the American.

"Let's switch in 45 minutes," Mr. Hughes suggested. "That will give us plenty of time for a first round."

"Fine," the other two echoed as they left with their chosen slaves.

Exactly 45 minutes later, the three were back in Mr. Hughes room. Each of the slave's bodies were covered in sweat, each had cum dripping down their thighs from the recent fucking they had received, and each were eagerly smiling in anticipation of their next usage. This time, Mr. Hughes took the black, Bruce took the American, and Mr. Muldoon took the Russian.

"How about an hour this time?" Mr. Muldoon suggested. "It takes a little longer the second time around - at least for me."

"In one hour then," Mr. Hughes announced as he pointed at the black and then to the bed. "Lean over the edge, boy, with your legs wide apart. I want to fuck you from behind the first time around," Mr. Hughes was saying as the other two left with their newly chosen slaves.

"Yes, master," the black answered as he quickly assumed the commanded position and readied himself for a fresh assault on his asshole.

One hour later, the three men decided they were hungry and called for room service while the three slaves were sent to the bath to shower, flush themselves out throughly, and lube themselves for further service.

"Should we order food for the slaves?" Mr. Muldoon asked, "or do they just eat our scraps?"

"No, Frederick. DELTA doesn't want their property eating human food. Their stock are restricted to slave chow - it assures proper nutrition without the gas, fat, and other problems human food often carries with it. The hotel, I'm sure, is well supplied and will gladly send up three rations of slave chow along with our meals."

By the time a delicious dinner for three had been delivered to Mr. Hughes' room, the three slaves were completely flushed, showered, groomed, oiled, and lubed. The slave chow had been delivered and sat in three plastic bowls on the floor. They stood in perfect display position while the three men began their delicious meal. The slaves eyes never left the bowls of slave chow on the floor revealing their intense hunger by this time of the day, but they were too well trained to move until ordered to do so. Eventually, Mr. Hughes remembered the slaves and said, "OK, slaveboys, you can have your rations now."

Instantly, the three were on all fours and crawled quickly to one of the plastic bowls. They lowered their faces into the chow and began chewing it piece by piece with considerable relish, washing it down with great slurps of water from a central larger plastic dish the waiter had left with the dry slave chow. None of them used their hands to eat, reflecting their thorough training, and, when finished licking the bowl of the last grain of chow, rinsed their mouths out thoroughly so their breathe would be sweat. When completely finished, they assumed a kneeling position with bowed heads in the corner of the room. The entire feeding had taken less than two or three minutes.

"Efficient, isn't it," Mr. Hughes commented as Mr. Muldoon had stopped eating to stare at the slaves feeding.

"Indeed," Mr. Muldoon replied. "I can see why DELTA insists on keeping the slaves to their routine. Makes it easier for everyone involved. Besides, they don't lose any time for their other assigned duties," he added as he snapped his finger and, pointing at the black, then pointed to a position under the table and between his legs. The black slave promptly crawled under the table and got his head in Mr. Muldoon's crotch, quickly lowering the zipper and tenderly retracting Mr. Muldoon's organ before swallowing it to the root in one graceful move. "Dessert for the boy," Mr. Muldoon giggled as he thrust his pelvis into the boy's face to the accompaniment of some muffled slurping.

"Bruce, I'm going to save myself for the Arab slave," Mr. Hughes announced. "What about you?"

"Same here, but we could have a little entertainment while we're waiting. NEVADA, get your ass up on that coffee table for a good fucking. And you, RUS, will get the honors. A good solid fucking, but don't you shoot, boy, until you're told you can."

"Yes, masters," the American and Russian slaves said as the one positioned himself face down on the coffee table while the other quickly mounted him. The Russian slave inserted his shaft all the way up the American slave until he was in as far as he could go and then began slowly fucking the slave beneath him who softly moaned as his greased rectum was once again stretched and filled.

After Mr. Muldoon had supplied dessert to the black slave who promptly swallowed it down and both of the other slaves were completely coated with a heavy sweat from their efforts, the Arab slave quietly entered the room, removed his robe, and assumed the standard display position before his masters.

"How did you wish to use me, masters?" the Arab slave humbly asked.

"I want to fuck your ass. How about leaning over the edge of the bed there with your ass positioned for a good fucking?"

"Of course, master," the Omani slave replied as he quickly assumed the commanded position, spreading his legs wide apart to best expose his open hole.

"You other guys don't mind if I go in first?" Mr. Hughes asked.

"Go right ahead," Mr. Muldoon replied, "the black has sucked me dry," reaching down and running his hands through the black's hair who was kneeling by his side.

"I'm going to give NEVADA his dessert now," Bruce smiled as he snapped his finger at the slaves coupling and pointed to the slave being fucked and then to a spot between his legs. With a loud plop, the Russian slave withdrew his large dripping organ and assumed a kneeling position while his shaft continued dancing in excitement as he tried to control a pending ejaculation. NEVADA crawled over, his body steaming in a sex sweat, and, opening his mouth wide, swallowed Bruce's organ to the root and began working his throat and cheek muscles for his master's pleasure.

Without further ado, Mr. Hughes plunged into the Arab slave's open hole and began pumping his shaft as the slave beneath him moaned in submission. Within minutes, the slave felt his user's growing urgency and appropriately tightened his ass muscles around the invading shaft. "The boy's working my shaft within him," Mr. Hughes said approvingly. "Well trained."

"As is this American boy. He massaging my shaft with his throat muscles. You don't learn that overnight!" Bruce replied. "Uh! Uh! Oh, my God!" Bruce exclaimed as he discharged a full load down into the slave's throat who struggled to swallow it as fast as it was spilled down his throat.

"Ugh! Ah!" Mr. Hughes shouted as he shot into the Arab slave's ass, plummeting wildly in his discharge so that the slave looked like a rag doll as he was repeatedly thrust against the bed with each deep stroke into him.

After getting their breath back, Mr. Hughes announced, "I think we need a break! Omar, let's see you fuck BLACKIE while NEVADA fucks RUS. That gives everyone a chance to get their ass worked over," he said brightly.

As the slaves promptly launched into following the new commands, the three DELTA customers dozed off. Eventually, after completing their commanded tasks, OMAR slipped his robe back on and quietly left the room to see his new user. The three remaining DELTA slaves crawled over to one corner and quietly went to sleep on the carpeted floor, cum oozing out of their assholes.

Sheik Amani took all three of his guests on a tour through the training center, although Mr. Hughes had seen it before. Over 1400 were in training at the time and the place was a beehive of activity.

Bruce particularly liked where the trainees were taught how to suck the phalluses containing the liquid protein at the sound of a bell and the room where they were fucked over and over by their trainers as they slowly learned to churn their ass muscles and pump their hips back toward the shafts continually invading them.

Malcolm liked the part where the trainees were being taught to shallow huge shafts down their throats without gagging through the use of soft plastic dildos being forced down their throats until the gag reflex had been totally extinguished and the slaves could easily handle about anything a prospective buyer might have in mind for them in that area.

Mr. Hughes enjoyed the special projects area, where specific slaves were being trained for specified buyers: in one area, extremely hairy muscular slaves were being trained to be dog slaves with all the whimpers, nugs, lickings and barks that dogs normally deliver. Sheik Amani added that the slaves were subjected to huge injections of a drug that simulated body hair growth, so that by the time of delivery, the slaves body hair would hang down two or three inches from their body. With a tail attached to a butt plug which was always rammed up their butt except when they were getting fucked or shitting, they would pretty much look like a dog. Especially since they were taught to always crawl, mount each other doggie-style when ordered to fuck, and were generally muzzled and leashed by their wide collars.

Another special project was training pony slaves for a European countess who prized smooth bodied, very muscular, well hung male ponies, all genital banded and tit ringed for maximum display purposes since she liked to show them off fully erect at every opportunity. The ponies were in permanent harnesses made out of waterproof mylar and were on steroid injections to maximize their bulging muscles and constant state of arousal. Sheik Amani had chuckled that the ponies were more for show than actually pulling heavy loads and that he thought they ended up in bedroom duty, fully harnessed, more than they ended up pulling her carriage. But it was her money.

After Sheik Amani's tour, all three men now understood why DELTA could guarantee their stock with confidence.

They ended up outside the sales pens. Sheik Amani got right down to business. "John, those boys you traded in yesterday are worth more than you probably thought. With some reconditioning and retraining, we can sell them for at least 50% of what you paid for them a decade ago. Not bad, considering the use you got out of them. What that means is, you can get nine more premium stock at what you'd normally pay for four and a half. Sort of a two-for-one deal if that's all right with you."

"Wonderful, Sheik," John Hughes exclaimed. "I didn't think those slaves would be worth much anymore."

"There's a lot of use left in them, John, especially if we put them in the hands of the right owner. They'll do just fine in a situation where they just have to sexually satisfy one or two masters every day. And, of course, they can be worked at household or general labor or even draft labor until its time to harvest them - at least 30 or 40 years yet. That means you need to pick out, with Bruce's help I assume, nine premium stock to take home with you. Premium goods are all here on the first floor, so you can start looking them over," he waved toward hundreds of cages nearby with the naked occupants on full display in each cage. "When you've selected some you want to look over more carefully or try out in any way, just let Mr. Applebee, my sales manager, know and he'll get them on the display stand for you. Now, Mr. Muldoon, I understand you're in the market for a fresh young black stud. Mr. Applebee has a good selection already on the display stand for you to start looking over. Shouldn't take you too long - they're all near perfect!"

As Mr. Hughes and Bruce began strolling down the long line of cages, they ran into the brassy woman they'd met yesterday also looking over the available stock.

"Good afternoon, madam," Mr. Hughes greeted her. "An interesting array of stock, don't you agree?"

"Nothing here I like any better than those boys in the limousine," she bellowed. "Although I admit these boys here are mighty good looking," she added avariciously, "and well hung. I'll try a couple of them out, but I've about made up my mind to just buy the boys in the limousine and take them home with me. They sure understand what slaves's are for in this world and get right with it."

"Glad your trip is proving such a success," Mr. Hughes said smoothly, smiling to himself as he thought the slaveboys back in her hotel room were zonked out sound asleep, resting up for another round of heavy fucking the minute their loud-mouthed mistress got back. Maybe they were able to shut her up. Maybe her trial runs with some of the stock here would satiate her for a while and give the boys in the hotel a little more rest before being pressed back into action.

"A slave never knows his fate," Bruce whispered, "but fucking that bitch day and night sure puts DELTA's training to the test, I'd say. But, as they say, a slave's got to do what a slave's got to do!"

Mr. Muldoon was leading a strikingly handsome jet black slave with prodigious equipment back to one of the small rooms provided for customer testing, while Mr. Hughes and Bruce casually selected 18 slaves to be put on display. While they were checking the merchandise out on the display stand, Mr. Muldoon reappeared leading the leashed black slave behind him who had cum still dribbling out of his mouth and running down his chin.

"I'll take this one, Mr. Applebee," Mr. Muldoon said as he reached down and stroked the black's erect shaft, "if we can agree on the price. But I want his tits ringed with 2" silver rings and a tight fitting 1-1/2" genital band to match. And a silver collar to replace that ugly iron thing with my name and address engraved on it. I want him showing well."

"Of course, Mr. Muldoon, although those fittings in silver will add some to the price. This boy is graded premium stock, and, as you know, all premium stock sells at a set price. Those fittings, installed, will add a good $600, not much when you figure the $700,000 price tag on this boy. Blacks are selling at a discount these days - you're lucky. Three months ago, a black hung like this and fully trained would be selling for $900,000 on the open market. You're getting a steal, Mr. Muldoon, if I do say so myself."

"So it's going to cost me $700,600?"

"Exactly, Mr. Muldoon, including the silver fittings. Check or charge card?"

"I'll put him on VISA. I had my limit raised to $2 M in anticipation of this shopping trip."

"We'll deliver him to your hotel this evening. He will be able to suck and fuck just fine, but his tits will be bandaged for three days. You can't play with his tits or even touch them for at least a week to avoid any risk of infection. And he'd walk a little funny until he gets used to his new genital band - it throws them off balance until they get used to it. But ringing him will really show that equipment off, Mr. Muldoon - a wise choice. You can look around some more, if you like, or we can take you back to your hotel if you've seen what you want to see. The slaves from your car will still be there for your amusement. When you're ready to leave, DELTA will have a car to get you to the airport and see you off as well as getting your purchase prepared for its flight. Will he be in economy or freight?"

"Economy, British Air to London with connections to Belfast. I'll be in first class on the same flights."

"We will have your new purchase flushed out, plugged, and dressed so his collar will be concealed. Airport security in London will probably pick up the metal on the boy, but allow him to go into the inspection room - they're used to seeing males collared and ringed now and will think nothing of it - least of all suspect he's just owned property. It won't really hold you up much. The plug is plastic so they won't notice that anyway. We dress our deliveries going out in economy class in black turtlenecks to cover their collars, loose black pants to hide their evitable erections and sneakers with no socks. No underwear unless you want them fitted with a jock strap to make sure their erections don't show - might be a good idea in conservative Ireland, Mr. Muldoon."

"Sounds fine, including the jock strap. Don't want the black showing off all over the airport. Mr. Applebee, I'll hang around and go back to the hotel with my friends from America," Mr. Muldoon said. "It will be fun seeing them pick out their new stock."

As Bruce and Mr. Hughes examined the fine looking stock now on full display, Sheik Amani reappeared. "John, before you make your final selections, I want you to look at six boys just finishing up their training here. Got them in an Athens market just a few months ago. They belonged to a Greek aristocratic couple who had them well trained to carry their litters, pull their carriages, and serve them sexually. Fairly heavy use but I bought them well trained and in perfect shape. Best of all, they're still not a day over 20 - any given one of them - and every one of these devils are the best looking, best hung, and beautifully trained boys I've seen in a long while. I've had every one of them in my own bed and they're close to perfect. In fact, John, I was fucking one of them when you last called me if you'll recall. I know you like variety and all these boys are Greeks, but wait till you see them!"

"Well, I do like to have some variety, Sheik Amani. But you're always been right about stock before. Let's see them."

Sheik Amani nodded to Mr. Applebee who returned within a minute, leading a string of some of the world's most handsome stock leashed together by their collars. All six were the same complexion, the same height and weight, and all sported 9" circumcised thick cocks in full display due to their genital bands. They were all completely body shaved, all had curly blond hair cut to 4" length on their handsome heads, and each one had his prominent nipples ringed. Each sported the brand "SERVI" on his left butt.

"Display," Mr. Applebee commanded in a low voice and instantly all six slaves placed their hands in back of their neck, tensed their muscles and spread their legs wide apart as they thrust their pelvises forward.

Bruce, Mr. Hughes, and Mr. Muldoon all just stared in amazement at the perfect specimens of man flesh in front of them. They continued staring as the huge pricks all became erect at the same time with white drops of precum dripping out of each shaft. They continued to stare in utter awe.

"Well," Sheik Amani broke the silence. "What do you think?"

The three men continued to just stare. Never before had any of them seem any male quite that handsome, let alone six of them together. Each slave was simply the epitome of what a male slave should look like if genetic perfection had been reached and physique development programs were exact.

"Hello," Sheik Amani laughed. "You still with me?"

"I'll take them," Mr. Hughes finally blurted out.

"But you haven't even examined them yet, let alone tried them out," Sheik Amani objected.

"Don't need to, Sheik. If you guarantee them, I'll take them. Hang the cost."

"Oh, they're the usual premium price and they come with their little fittings free of charge since they're already installed. If you take this matched pair of six, you'll still need three more," the Sheik prompted.

"I'll let Bruce pick them out. I know we'll need some real variety now!" Mr. Hughes said.

"Well, while he's doing that, let me tell you about the boys you just bought. They were fairly heavily used by a mistress and a master and a few guests now and then, but overall, fairly light use compared to what you put your stock through. They were fully trained as ponies also, so they're used to being harnessed, having bits in their mouth, and a good whip on their backs and butt. That's probably responsible for those splendid physiques - that and all that duty hauling those heavy litters around on their shoulders day and night. They'll be perfect for your operation - I've tried each one out myself and they're so well trained at this point they really enjoy being used - seem to crave it without being pushy. Their greatest joy seems to be in pleasing their users. Couldn't ask for better considering what you want them for. And you can keep them in that superb shape by working them out in their assigned estate housekeeping chores - work them heavy - maybe some warehouse loading and unloading would be a good assignment."

Bruce returned with three slaves he had selected.

"Hear that, Bruce, warehouse loading for these six boys to keep their physiques up," Mr. Hughes said.

"Sure," Bruce responded. "Mr. Hughes, what do you think of these?" pulling the first two slaves forward, still in full display position, by their erect pricks, and then bringing the third forward the same way.

One was a handsome brown mulatto with an almost perfect body and well shaped large genitals. He had long eyelashes over his deep blue eyes, curly brown hair, hollow cheeks and thin lips around beautiful white teeth, and massive pecs with large protruding brown tits atop them. His waist was unusually small for such a large body, which emphasized a well rounded bubble butt atop well shaped thighs and calves. He was fully erect and Bruce's kneading of his shaft only assured a full dripping erection. He looked to be no more than 17 or 18 although fully developed.

The second was an large Indonesian, unusual for his race with bright green eyes, a large 6'2" frame, massive musculature, and sported a thick, long circumcised shaft atop balls the size of ripe oranges. He was strikingly handsome with a light brown skin blemish free, practically hairless except for his long flowing black hair that reached his shoulders, and was fitted with large golden ear rings, and, most unusual, a matching golden nose ring that hung down over his upper lip and gave him a unique controlled look but obviously wouldn't interfere with his duties in sucking an owner's shaft. His ass was muscular but rounded and was, as Bruce put it, 'inviting'.

The third was only about 5'4", but very well built. He had flaming red hair, milky smooth skin, gray eyes, and above-average, but not gigantic, genitals. He sported copper tit rings, a matching collar, and an unusual nose ring, also in copper.

"Brown seems to be your color today, Bruce," Mr. Hughes commented as he reached over and hefted the Indonesian's huge balls in the palm of his hand, "except for the red-hear with the nose-ring - exotic, that one!".

"Need to balance off all those olive-skinned Greeks," Bruce laughed.

"The mulatto is from your country - our buyers picked him up in a California shelter. He's been in training for 13 months now, but it all ended fine. He's fully guaranteed now and I'm sure you'll be completely satisfied with him once he settles in. The Asian was part of a lot sale - we bought up 100 of them out of an Indonesian prison. Training here was easier on them than prison life in Indonesia so they took to slavery with no trouble at all - welcomed it compared to their life before. This boy here was so grateful to get some food in his stomach he begged us to use him the minute he arrived - turned out that was the only way he was fed in the prison there - and then just a little bit. Sentenced for life imprisonment, any sale at all here will be a better life than what he had to look forward to. You'll have no trouble with him no matter what use he's put to or how often. We picked up the red-head in your country, Mr. Muldoon, from a local dealer who had bought him off some destitute orphanage a few years ago when he was just 14. He's well trained and the nose rings is a nice touch, don't you think? We thought he needed something a little extra to set him off since he's not really heavily hung."

"Sounds good, doesn't it Bruce? I'll buy them. What do I owe you, my good friend, after the trade-in's?"

"Well, the Greek's go at $1 M each. The American mulatto's priced at $700,000 and the Indonesian will be a little cheaper, $550,000 in that we picked up that whole batch at lot sale prices. The Irish boy sells for only $450,000 because he's not heavy hung like the others. That's $7.7 M minus your trade-in credit of $3.6 M. You can have these new slaves for $4.1 M, John. Agreed?"

"Aren't you being terribly generous on the trade-in value, Sheik Amani?" John Hughes asked with a warm smile. "I know we're good friends, but this is carrying it too far - remember you gave me two slaves just outright not too long ago. Let's add another million and I'd feel better about it."

"By all that's holy, no," Sheik Amani said. "My estimate of the trade-in value is quite accurate, John. That stock you brought over with you to trade in is worth more than you think." He laughed. "You think because they're been fucked thousands and thousands of times, that they're all worn out. Nonsense, the human body is a marvel. They can be fucked thousands and thousands of times more and still be worth something. That's the wonder of dealing with premium stock to start with. It's value hold up in the marketplace year after year. That's why I like you, John, you never argue about the price and you always want the best, no matter what it cost. It pays off in the long run, as both of us know - you too, Bruce. Besides, I realized the trade-in stock had been maintained by Bruce here and he knows exactly how to keep a slave a slave - we'll have practically no retraining to do with your trade-in's Bruce. My compliments! You've saved Mr. Hughes here at least a couple of million through your diligent insistence on proper daily discipline, strict diet, and regular punishments for minor, even trivial infractions. It all pays off in the long haul. Bruce is a business manager I wish all my customer's had, Mr. Hughes. And, Bruce, if you ever need a job, don't go back to hustling. Just come over here and I'll put you in charge of slave maintenance. You can be responsible for all the slaves through training and waiting to be sold."

"Don't go raiding my staff, Sheik," Mr. Hughes laughed. "I appreciate Bruce more than he'll ever realize."

Bruce blushed at the praise from both of his mentors, but said, "Mr. Hughes, you really didn't need to buy me a slave of my own - that was just going too far."

"Nonsense, Bruce. I'm glad the black is working out for you. Sheik, Bruce tells me the slave I bought for him down in Puerto Rico is a wonder in bed and eager as a puppy."

"Well, Bruce, when it comes time to sell him, let me know. We're always in the market for stock already thoroughly trained and I know any slave of yours would be exactly that."

"That's quite a compliment coming from you, Sheik Amani. I appreciate it."

"I'll have my bank credit your account with the $4.1 M this afternoon, Sheik. Can you prepare these nine for shipment back to the states?"

"Of course. Don't you want them over at your hotel to use before you leave?"

"No, your gifts are totally satisfactory. We'll appreciate their usage again tonight, along with that handsome Arab slave of yours. He told us he is an Omani - are they all that good- looking?"

"Well, I'm Omani too," the Sheik laughed. "He's just younger, that's all."

"We will be taking off in the morning. Mission accomplished, I'd say!" Mr. Hughes smiled.

"Accomplished indeed," both Sheik Amani and Mr. Muldoon agreed. 

VISIT TO MADAGASCAR: ANTANANARIVO'S SLAVE MARKETS:

Sheik Amani was never one to rest on his laurels. Delta Enterprises, Limited had indeed prospered under his careful tutelage and was now the world's largest exporter of premium slaves. It remained the only large dealer that fully guaranteed its stock with a no-questions asked money- back refund of the full purchase price if not totally satisfied over the first 90 days.

The demand for slaves had certainly escalated over the past few years and other dealers had sprung up hither, tither and yond to meet the demand. Most were small underfinanced operations that dealt in stock easily obtainable most anywhere: ordinary looking, often emaciated livestock that lacked features that attracted the best buyers: unusual facial handsomeness combined with the beauty of a well-developed muscular physique and extraordinary sexual equipment, Most such dealers had inventories less than 50 or so severely limiting selectivity, offered no guarantees of any type, and usually financed monthly payments on the spot at outlandish interest rates who buyers who couldn't afford a slave any other way. Most dealers like this made more out of the interest on their sales than in any profit mark-up on the sale itself. Indeed, some dealers sold at a loss if they could arrange a sale at a 15 to 20 % interest rate on a 90% financed loan. What one got at these dealers was a slave that could be worked under a heavy whip, sexually used whenever you wanted if you didn't mind the obvious resentment of the slave while you were using him, and a pervasive attitude of surly uncooperativeness only temporarily altered by the whip, lack of rations, or electric prods. Such dealers were located throughout the world, but were particularly prevalent in the third world countries where stock was easily available to the dealers at all times. Central Africa, certain countries of South and Central America, some Caribbean islands, and Southern Asian islands were particularly rife with these small dealers.

But one island off of Africa, Madagascar, was rapidly emerging from numerous small dealerships to a few much larger, better financed, and better organized organizations. It was these dealerships that Sheik Amani thought might pose a future threat to his leadership in the field. First off, the consolidations had continued until only four huge mega-dealers remained, each specializing in a different type of fully-trained slave. Second, the dealers had an arrangement with the Madagascar government that treated the enterprises as import-exporters subject to the usual custom taxes (which were substantial) and in return officially ignored the fact that the imports and exports were human slaves - indeed the government took an active role in protecting the dealerships from any world inquiries, newspaper reports, etc., that might adversely hurt the industry through hyping of anti-slavery sentiments. Third, trainers and slave handlers were readily available from the local populace at relatively low costs - Malagasies had practiced slavery for thousands of years, only going underground in the practice when the French had briefly colonized the island in the last half of the 19th and the first half of the 20th century. But even during this period, slavery was widely practiced and the people never changed their attitude that slaves were, in effect, merely talking livestock, and should be treated accordingly. Fourth, the new mega- dealers were well financed and could buy up thousands and thousands of slaves without mortgaging their stock and, as a result, sold only for cash. Profits made were profits kept - the banks were kept completely out of the loop. Consequently, they could afford to sell even top quality stock at less of a mark-up in that with no interest fees to contend with and with thousands to sell each day, the profit made per slave could be considerably less. Fifth, from what he had heard in Oman, Sheik Amani felt that these new dealers seemed to know exactly what they were doing - both in training as well as in marketing. It was time to visit and see for himself!

The flight from Muscat to Antananarivo, the capital, was less than two hours. From there, Sheik Amani, accompanied only by his latest personal body slave, a breathtakingly beautiful young Croatian only recently completing his training but now robed for the flight, transferred to a flight headed for Mahajangu, the closest city to his first dealer whose facilities were located in huge warehouses located near the city docks. Sheik Amani had phoned his itinerary ahead so he knew he was expected.

What he didn't expect was the reception at the Mahajangu airport. As soon as he and his attendant stepped off the plane, a magnificent black was spotted holding a sign "Sheik Amani and party."

"I'm Sheik Amani," he said to the sign holder.

"Thank you, master," the black said humbly, dropping to one knee in obeisance, revealing his thick iron slave collar as he bowed his head. "Please follow me to the car."

The black was dressed in a long flowing robe that was thin enough to reveal the magnificent torso and the huge banded genitals beneath. Sheik Amani's body slave heeled behind his owner but his eyes swept over the black slave's magnificent body and he wondered if, over the next few days, he would be fucked by this black slave for his owner's amusement. Judging from the size of the black's genitals, even flaccid, it would be a fucking he would remember, he speculated. Soon enough they were in the Mercedes.

"It's only about 10 minutes away," the black said humbly as he started the engine and headed the car out of the airport parking lot.

"Where are you from originally?" Sheik Amani asked as he reached over and raised his Croatian slave's robe up to his shoulders and then began fondling the young slave's ample sexual organs as the slave quickly spread his legs wide apart and thrust his pelvis out to allow his master easy access. The slave hadn't been allowed to discharge for three days now and he was in a state of almost perpetual arousal, especially after speculating about being fucked by the magnificent black slave now sitting up front.

"I'm from Senegal, master," the black replied in a deep baritone.

"Did your master buy you there?" Sheik Amani continued.

"Yes, master, at the market in Dakar. I was in a batch of 40 other boys who were being harvested for sale."

"Harvested? A slave raid on your village or are you the product of a slave breeding farm?"

"I'm a bred slave, master," the black responded. "Most slaves in Senegal are bred for the market nowadays. A lot better product, they tell me, then the slaves captured in raids. We're selectively bred toward better physiques, good looks, and big pricks."

"Well, that and the fact you know where your stock is coming from on a regular basis," the Sheik added. "Bred slaves can be trained from birth for their role in society and are usually much more malleable to the demands future owners will place upon them."

"Yes, master," the black responded. "This dealer, my current owner, bought me last year when I was 18 and has trained me as a body slave - really a steward, butler, valet, waiter, cook, housekeeper, chauffeur, and gardener as well as a highly skilled bed buck. He's grooming me for a customer that can probably only afford one or two slaves in his or her household."

"Well, he shouldn't have too much trouble selling you," Sheik Amani said, "if you're fully trained."

"I'm well trained," the black quickly responded. "There's nothing this boy can't do," he bragged.

"And modest too," Sheik Amani smiled. "Tell me, do you prefer to be sold to a man or a woman?"

The black looked puzzled but slowly responded. "I didn't know slaves could prefer anything," the slave said without cynicism. "Doesn't matter to me - fate will decide and whoever bids the highest," the slave smiled. "I've learned to appreciate all forms of sex, master, if that's what you were getting at."

"It doesn't matter to you whether you're fucking a mistress or being fucked by a master?" Sheik Amani pressed the issue.

"No, master, whatever my new owner might want," the slave said without any emotion.

"Let's hope your training in your housekeeping and gardening duties are as complete as they are in the personal use of your body," Sheik Amani said admiringly. "If so, you'll bring a mighty high price on the auction block."

"Thank you, master," the black said sincerely.

"I may be interested in buying you myself," the Sheik continued, if you check out in a complete body inspection and perform well. That is, if your current owner will loan you out to so I sample your skills.'

"My master frequently loans slaves out he is interested in selling," the black said encouragingly. "Just ask for Dakar - that's what he calls me. I'll do my best to please you, master,"

"Of course, Dakar - that's what slaves do," Sheik Amani replied, unimpressed with the slave's eagerness to be used.

The dealer was waiting for the car at the front entrance. Small in stature, a rich mahogany in color, he was about 40 years ago and had a confident air. He was dressed in a rich Malagasy full length robe, had long brown hair cut shoulder length, and carried a short slave whip.

"Sheik Amani, Bohar Mehgahaugsey here" he greeted his visitor. "It's an honor to have you visit us. Even in this barren backwater, we have heard of Oman's Delta Enterprises and its superb stock."

"If that black chauffeur is any example of your stock, we're got some serious competition," the Sheik laughed. "It's very gracious of you to host me here in Madagascar, Mr. Mehgahaugsey. I'm most interested in your operation as well as a few others here and, if all goes well and Allah favors our visit, hope to perhaps work out some collaborative projects."

"Ah, the rumors are all true," the dealer said. "The famous Sheik gets right to the point," he laughed. "I hope you like what you see, Sheik, and that we can work out some sort of collaboration fulfilling our mutual interests. The market seems unlimited, especially in the highly select and extremely well trained slaves you specialize in. I think you find some of our stock to your interest, although our level of training here is elementary compared to what I've heard of your stock. Is you true you actually guarantee stock for 90 days?" he asked in wonderment.

"Yes, it's true. All stock is guaranteed for a minimum of 90 days. A lot of stock we guarantee for much longer periods - up to a year in certain cases," the Sheik replied casually. "Before I forget it, I'd like to look your chauffeur over and perhaps try him out. He makes an impressive first showing."

"Yes, that's why we send him to greet our few visitors in this remote spot. Picked him up with a few others over in Senegal about a year ago - off of one of the big breeding farms they run over there - and have had him in training ever since. He's quite good in bed, at least in my opinion and those I've loaned him out to, but he lacks the finesse further training could give him," Mr. Mehgahaugsey said as motioned with his whip for the black to disrobe and display his body.

The black promptly whisked off his robe, spread his legs far apart, put his hands in back of his neck to best display all aspects of his body, and thrust his pelvis out for easy handling of his sexual equipment. The Sheik noted the boy's tits had been fitted with 2' rings, sported a huge genital ring banded around his balls and prick, and was branded with the universal "servi" on his left pectoral. The Sheik reached out and hefted the huge balls in one hand as he began to stroke and squeeze the semi-erect phallis in the other. "What 'finesse' does the boy lack, in your opinion?" the Sheik asked as he promptly brought the slave to a full 4x12 erection.

"Oh, little things," the dealer sighed. "Sometimes he forgets to thank you for fucking him, sometimes he still chokes a bit when swallowing a big one, and, worst of all, he hasn't yet mastered full control. If you keep stroking him vigorously like that, you'll soon learn how little control the boy has at this point," he laughed.

The warning came too late. Almost immediately huge gobs of hot cum were sprayed all over the Sheik's robes with the slave gasping out apologies as his body convulsed in repeated outpourings. After six or seven long emissions, the panting boy begged to be allowed to clean up his mess on his user's robes.

"Be quick about it," the Sheik said as the slave sunk to his knees and began lapping the gobs of hot cum off the beautiful robes.

"How long since you let this boy orgasm?" the Sheik asked professionally.

"This morning," Mr. Mehgahaugsey sighed again. "The slave's a venerable fountain of spunk it seems, but all the more reason to learn self-control," he added as he lashed the slave across his rounded butt.

"He'd make a good milk slave," the Sheik suggested. "As you no doubt are aware, certain buyers are looking for a stud they can milk three or four times a day and get a good output each time. Most of them drink the stuff as a youth elixir. Who knows? Maybe it works. Others just like the unique taste of cum and use it as a condiment on their table."

"I was thinking of selling him as a stud," Mr. Mehgahaugsey smiled. "You and I both know you could put him to stud seven or eight times for several years before he'd show much wear and tear and his sperm count started to go down."

"Black studs are a dime a dozen in today's market, Mr. Mehgahaugsey." the Sheik responded. "I'd suggest either training him to full self-control or getting rid of him as a milk stud."

"I appreciate your suggestion," Mr.Mehgahaugsey smiled, "but I have an even better idea."

"What's that," the Sheik's eyes sparkled.

"You buy the black slave and train him for a future buyer. I've no doubt you could easily train the boy to full control or have access to markets looking for a good milk stud."

"I just might do that if he checks out in other ways. I'd just begun my inspection when the slave emptied all over me. Perhaps now, at least, he can contain himself while I examine the rest of him," the Sheik laughed.

Mr. Mehgahaugsey gave another sharp smack with his whip to the slave's rump and again ordered him to position for bodily inspection. The Sheik went slowly and thoroughly over every muscle in the boy's body, checked his teeth and eyes, ran his hand through his hair and down across his back and rump checking for whip scars, and finally had him bend over for the usual inspection of a slave's anal chute. He inserted first one finger, then two, and finally three deep into the boy who moaned softly at the invasion but never flinched one iota as the fingers were pumped in and out of him. The slave, responding to past training, tightened his ass muscles around the invading fingers.

"He's been opened properly, but he's still plenty tight," the Sheik announced as he withdraw his fingers and wiped them off in the slave's hair. "He should offer a most satisfying fuck since he's obviously learned to use his ass muscles to heighten his user's pleasure."

"We do a good job here with the elementary training - positioning for inspection, getting used to being fondled, sucking, taking a fuck, having your tits played with - but, frankly, this boy was mainly trained when we bought him."

"Most slaves from breeding farms are that way," the Sheik agreed. "It's all they've known as long as they can remember. But I'd like to see how he takes to a real fuck."

"Right here?" Mr. Mehgahaugsey replied, obviously shocked that a rich visitor would want to fuck a slave right on the open street totally exposed.

"No, of course not. I was going to have my own slave fuck him while I studied the black," Sheik Amani laughed. "You must take us Omani's for barbarians to be willing to fuck a slave in public."

"My apologies, Sheik, but I have little knowledge of Omani customs. I see you seem to have the same feelings as Malagasy regarding privacy. But of course your white slave can fuck him for your examination if you so wish. What position should the black be in for the fucking?"

"Bent over grapping his ankles will be fine with his legs spread wide. That way my Croatian slave can remain standing," he signaled for the Croatian to dispel of his clothing.

Instantly, the Croatian body slave slipped out of his simple robe and positioned his already erect prick against the proffered hole of the black slave before him. He looked at his master for permission to begin the fucking. When given with the nod of the Sheik's head, he immediately plunged his full 12" length into the black and began pumping vigorously as the black audibly moaned and whimpered underneath him, wiggling occasionally in an attempt to adjust to the unusually big circumference of the Croatian's shaft - 4" from top to bottom.

"May I shoot, master?" the Croatian asked imploringly as he accelerated his thrusting motions into the black.

"No, boy," the Sheik responded casually. "I may want to use you later, or perhaps my new friend here will want to use you in which case we want you eager and ready," he added as he gave a sign of invitation to his host. Ever fucked a Croatian, Mr. Mehgahaugsey? This one, at least, is most satisfying in bed. Croatians seem to be especially amenable to training in this area."

"I'll just take you up on that offer, Sheik. It's not too often a well-trained white slave boy happens along in these backwaters, especially one as exceptionally good looking as that one," Mr. Mehgahaugsey quickly responded as the frenzied fucking taking place on the street outside the dealership continued.

"OK, that's enough," the Sheik said as he motioned for his Croatian to withdraw and then motioned for the black slave to clean his slave's shaft, now dripping with pre-cum and ass juices. "You managed taking such a big one pretty well, slave," he complimented the black as he patted his head, now positioned at the Croatian's groin as he swallowed the entire shaft in his cleansing efforts.

He turned to Mr. Mehgahaugsey as the clean-up continued. "You use my Croatian tonight and I'll use this black," he suggested, "to seal our friendship. But now, I wish to talk about purchase of the black. How much in view of his need for refined training?"

"We're asking $400,000, but, for you, I'll only ask for $300,000 if you agree to pursue a working collaboration for purchase of our stock in the future."

"Is that a bribe?" the Sheik laughed. "If so, I'll take it. $300,000 it is if the boy can demonstrate his skills tonight in my bed."

"He will," Mr. Mehgahaugsey replied confidently. "I've had no complaints to date," he laughed. "If we're to collaborate, I like to show you our facilities and current stock holdings."

"That's what I came for," the Sheik replied. "Let's get on with it. Can I bring my Croatian slave? I may want him to check out some of your stock for me."

"Of course. We can put his robe in my office in that we keep all our stock naked at all times. If your Croatian's clothed, they'll think he's a buyer," the dealer laughed.

"The only time that boy's been clothed in almost a year was for the trip over here," the Sheik laughed. "He'll be more comfortable stark nude."

With that, the two merchants and their two naked attending slaves went inside. First they went by the display areas where current offerings were caged for display and inspection. The Sheik noticed almost all of the available stock were black Africans or brown natives of Madagascar or other Indian Ocean nations. Most displayed were amply but not excessively endowed, although the blacks were generally much heavier hung than the brown natives. All were in top physical shape and very muscular, obviously being held to a rigorous exercise program designed to best develop their physiques. All were well fed but not an ounce of fat was noticeable. Most thrust their genitals and nipples through the bars of their cages to best suit the convenience of any potential buyer with a gentle plea to "buy me, master" whispered humbly whenever you stopped to handle any of the goods so readily offered. It was obvious from their demeanor that they well accepted all aspects of their slavery, including full body usage, and knew their welfare depended on attracting a good buyer.

"They present themselves well, Mr. Mehgahaugsey," the Sheik complimented his host. "Especially for just general purpose slaves which, I understand, is your stock in trade."

"Yes, we train them for general household duties, gardening, simple farming chores, manual labor jobs, and, of course, full use of their bodies to provide pleasure to their new owners. For the speciality slaves, you must look elsewhere where the training is more elaborate."

"Such as," the Sheik prodded.

"Oh, you know, pony slaves, dog slaves, brothel slaves, cooks, masseuses, athletes, musicians - things like that. Although, of course, a lot of our offerings here can do many of these things with further training," Mr. Mehgahaugsey replied.

"And where would I find these speciality slaves here in Madagascar?" the Sheik prodded again.

"Exactly where I understand you plan to visit on your tour of this country's main dealers. I specialize in general usage slaves; my colleages in Antainabe, Farafargana, Morondava, and Androka all deal in just one speciality or another. The dealer in Antainabe trains pony slaves and only buys up slaves with bodies that look promising for that destiny. The dealer in Farafargana trains brothel slaves exclusively and generally picks a variety of beautiful, but sturdy specimens that can hold up to the rigors of constant whoredom. The merchant in Morondava trains slaves to be skilled athletes as well as models for advertising, movies, and pornography purposes. Some buyers go there to buy up "display" slaves who will spend their life posing as living statues and works of art, I understand. That merchants picks out slaves that are highly coordinated, strong but swift, and who, of course, are markedly handsome to behold. And the Androkan dealer specializes in slaves of great strength and endurance that are needed in the mines, as litter bearers, and in heavy construction and agricultural work. He only buys up slaves who are huge, muscular, and disease resistant, but pays little attention to overall handsomeness, the size of their genitals, or their personality. I understand that dealer generally trains most of his slaves to work in teams, in that usually they're chained together for various assignments. He also trains them to tolerate a heavy whip on their backs and rumps in that such slaves need constant encouragement to put forth their utmost in the demanding tasks they're put to. In summary, we Madagascar merchants feel we pretty well cover the market if you put us all together, although, I admit, we're scattered about throughout the country."

"Let me show you our training facilities, Sheik," Mr. Mehgahaugsey prompted as the Sheik was quickly bringing one of the cage holdings to a full eruption through his manipulations of the slave's erect organ. But the dealer's urgings were a little too late. The chocolate colored slave erupted with a volley of sperm into the Sheik's hand as he shuttered in ecstasy and relief. The Sheik merely wiped his hands off in the slave's hair and followed his host into the next room.

Here the sound of whips slashing across bare hide, electrical prods crackling, and the constant undercurrent of moans and whimpers filled the air. Slaves were being shown how to wait table, pour wine, make beds, run a vacuum cleaner, clean toilets, dust, set tables, and cook in one large section. Any mistakes were promptly noted with another slash of the whip across a back, some of which were bleeding profusely as the training had obviously been in session for some time. The slaves looked apprehensive, never knowing when they might make another inappropriate move or, worse yet, not move fast enough. Either would bring the dreaded whip once again smashing across their already cris-crossed back or rump. Every time the sizzle of an electric prod could be heard, the slaves universally looked fearful, shaking sometimes in their raw fear of the dreaded punishment. One slave, obviously having a bad day, just started screaming in agony as he once again made an error and he saw the electric prod advancing toward his genitals. Such a cowardly display was promptly dealt with, however. The trainers simply beat him into unconsciousness and let him lie in his own blood as an example to the others, giving him several electrical shocks so strong they burnt his skin where the prods were applied - a useful reminder of what would happen if he ever showed such unseemly behavior again in his training.

The next section of the training room was devoted to learning how to best provide pleasure to a potential buyer. All slaves here were butt plugged with a huge 12 x 3" dildo if they weren't in the process of being fucked at the time, spent a lot of time on their knees learning to swallow huge phalluses thrust clear down their throats without gagging, learned to withstand hours of tit, ball and prick fondling without any noticeable objections and with a smile on their faces, and, every three hours, had their butt plugs withdrawn briefly for a complete fucking by one of the trainers. Here also they learned to give themselves enemas to thoroughly cleanse themselves inside, to shave all their body hair without remiss, and to keep themselves clean and odorfree at all times with frequent showers and shampoos. Head hair was trimmed to specifications, penises as well as anal chutes were lubed regularly to avoid chafing, and strenuous exercise sessions, designed to keep their bodies appealing and flexible, were rigidly enforced. Although slaves at this dealership were generally not destined for the slave brothels, they all knew any slave halfway decent looking would be expected to perform sexually for his owners no matter who they might be. Any slave expected that at the very least so most of these slaves took to their training with few objections - after all, the techniques being taught simply made their duties a little easier to perform. Every slave there knew that if he owned a slave, he would use that slave's body for his own pleasure and expected nothing less from whomever bought them.

The final training room was devoted to slave hygiene, getting used to slave chow as the only dietary offering, and keeping their bodies in top shape for their owner's usage and pride. Here they were also given tips on attracting a buyer once they were caged in the sales area, what to expect in full ownership, and subtle hints on pleasing an owner no matter what they demanded.

The Sheik noticed almost all the slaves in this final training area seemed reasonably content, appeared well adjusted to their slavery, and possessed appealing sturdy bodies that had years of heavy use left in them. All resentment at being enslaved, all resistance to living for their master's whim, and any will of their own had long been extinguished at this point. They were, indeed, ready for sale.

"I'm most interested in your products. I can easily put them into further training once they are in Muscat until they reach Delta guarantee standards and then put them in the hands of our select clientele. I'm prepared to pay top prices if I can pick out the very best of your stock here and in the sales room. Shall we say at least $400,000 as a minimum for the best of the lot."

"Agreed, Mr. Mehgahaugsey quickly responded. "Buy up all your want. I'll have their ownership papers and sales receipts done within the hour. We can ship them out tonight if you wish and they'll be in Omani facility by tomorrow morning ready to enhance their training to your standards."

"Fine, I'll take six out of this room," the Sheik announced as he pointed to first one and then another beautiful specimens of manhood "and I saw about eight in the other room I think we could offer with further training as general purpose slaves." The Sheik swept into the sales room and quickly pointed to eight different cages. "That's 14 in all and I'll offer you 6 million for the lot of 14 - that's well over the $400,000 apiece we were talking about as a minimum."

"Your reputation is not exaggerated in any way, Sheik," Mr. Mehgahaugsey said excitedly. "I've never seen anyone make decisions so rapidly."

"Then we have a deal, Mr. Mehgahaugsey," the Sheik asked.

"Of course. Now and regularly in the future I hope," Mr. Mehgahaugsey answered enthusiastically. "Now that I know what you're looking for exactly, I can train them here and then put them into holding for your final inspection. Shall I count on as many next year?" he queried.

"No. Next quarter. I shall probably want about 50 stock at that time," the Sheik answered quickly.

"Wonderful, wonderful," Mr. Mehgahaugsey exclaimed. "Allah has indeed blessed our friendship. "I've have 50 of the best stock available in this cursed country ready and waiting for you in three months time. In the interim, I've have the sales papers prepared immediately for the 14 you just bought plus my black chauffeur and start making the shipping arrangements to your facility in Muscat. We generally ship slaves in separate confinement cages unless specified otherwise fully plugged but with watering bottles attached. Will an agent from Delta be available at the Muscat airport for pickup?"

"Of course, Mr. Mehgahaugsey. The employee in charge of pickup and delivery is on this card. Fax him immediately with your shipping arrangements and he'll be there to get the slaves through customs and to our facility. I'd appreciate it if you'd also fax a copy of the sales papers, ownership certificates, and sales receipts to my registrar as well whose name and fax number are on that same card. That way they won't have to wait for my return with the original copies if a potential buyer for this stock shows up. And the shipping cages you described will be fine - our airfreight services in Oman are used to them."

"It will be done within the hour, Sheik," Mr. Mehgahaugsey responded with a bow. "That will give us time to break bread together in my humble abode above these training facilities and for you to bed that black down in my guest room before your departure tomorrow. Don't fuck the black too hard, Sheik," he laughed, "in that he has to be able to able to drive you to the airport tomorrow for your visit to the dealer at Antainabe that specializes in pony slaves. You'll find the training procedures there harsh, but interesting."

"I want to make sure you enjoy my Croatian slave, Mr. Mehgahaugsey," the Sheik said as he motioned for the Croatian to assume a display position. "He's excellent in bed."

"I'm looking forward to using him rather thoroughly tonight," the dealer said reaching over and fondling the slave's genitals. "I'm afraid he'll be one tired boy by morning, but you must understand a white slave is relatively rare here - especially one so good looking and obviously well trained." he added as the slave quickly became fully erect and dripping.

By morning, the black slave did indeed suffer a sore butt - sore from the endless pounding he had gotten a good part of the night - but he was happy he had been able to satisfy the demanding Omani guest. The Croatian slave looked a little worse for wear - he walked straddle legged for the first hour of the morning and moaned with every movement of his ass.

"What's the matter with you, slave?" the Sheik barked as the Croatian limped across the room. "Did you get fucked to death?" he laughed.

"Close, master," the Croatian grinned. "The Madagascar dealer possesses a mammoth organ that felt like it was splitting me in half," the Croatian giggled, "but we Delta slaves know how to handle even the biggest ones," he stated with considerable pride and a thrust of his pelvis outward. "Thank you for asking, master," he said as he assumed a display position and thrust his pelvis out "Do you want me robed for the airport, master?" he asked humbly.

"Yes," the Sheik answered. "You'll stay clothed until we're at the next dealership where you'll strip naked again."

"Yes, master," the Croatian replied with eyes properly downcast. "Would you like to use me before we leave, master?"

"Don't have time, slave, but it was good to ask," the Sheik responded. "I imagine your white hide will be as appealing to the next dealer as it was to this one. He or his assistants will probably want your body in his bed tonight, so no telling how much usage you'll get before the sun shines again. I'd grease up good if I were you."

"Yes, master," the Croatian replied. "Thank you for reminding me," he added as if what he was being asked to do was in no way unusual, which, in fact, it wasn't in his case.

The black slave got them swiftly to the airport and saw them off to the dealer in pony slaves. He rubbed his ass in remembrance of the decisive Sheik from Oman and eagerly awaited returning to this same airport for overnight shipment to Oman once he was properly butt plugged and crammed into the tiny shipping cage he'd seen often enough at the dealers.

He wouldn't mind being one of those specially guaranteed "Delta" slaves himself, he ruminated. Even slaves had aspirations of greatness!

VISIT TO MADAGASCAR - ANTAIRABE AND THE PONY SLAVES:

"OK, that's enough," the Sheik said as he motioned for his Croatian to withdraw and then motioned for the black slave to clean his slave's shaft, now dripping with pre-cum and ass juices. "You managed taking such a big one pretty well, slave," he complimented the black as he patted his head, now positioned at the Croatian's groin as he swallowed the entire shaft in his cleansing efforts.

He turned to Mr. Mehgahaugsey as the clean-up continued. "You use my Croatian tonight and I'll use this black," he suggested, "to seal our friendship. But now, I wish to talk about purchase of the black. How much in view of his need for refined training?"

"We're asking $400,000, but, for you, I'll only ask for $300,000 if you agree to pursue a working collaboration for purchase of our stock in the future."

"Is that a bribe?" the Sheik laughed. "If so, I'll take it. $300,000 it is if the boy can demonstrate his skills tonight in my bed."

"He will," Mr. Mehgahaugsey replied confidently. "I've had no complaints to date," he laughed. "If we're to collaborate, I like to show you our facilities and current stock holdings."

"That's what I came for," the Sheik replied. "Let's get on with it. Can I bring my Croatian slave? I may want him to check out some of your stock for me."

"Of course. We can put his robe in my office in that we keep all our stock naked at all times. If your Croatian's clothed, they'll think he's a buyer," the dealer laughed.

"The only time that boy's been clothed in almost a year was for the trip over here," the Sheik laughed. "He'll be more comfortable stark nude."

With that, the two merchants and their two naked attending slaves went inside. First they went by the display areas where current offerings were caged for display and inspection. The Sheik noticed almost all of the available stock were black Africans or brown natives of Madagascar or other Indian Ocean nations. Most displayed were amply but not excessively endowed, although the blacks were generally much heavier hung than the brown natives. All were in top physical shape and very muscular, obviously being held to a rigorous exercise program designed to best develop their physiques. All were well fed but not an ounce of fat was noticeable. Most thrust their genitals and nipples through the bars of their cages to best suit the convenience of any potential buyer with a gentle plea to "buy me, master" whispered humbly whenever you stopped to handle any of the goods so readily offered. It was obvious from their demeanor that they well accepted all aspects of their slavery, including full body usage, and knew their welfare depended on attracting a good buyer.

"They present themselves well, Mr. Mehgahaugsey," the Sheik complimented his host. "Especially for just general purpose slaves which, I understand, is your stock in trade."

"Yes, we train them for general household duties, gardening, simple farming chores, manual labor jobs, and, of course, full use of their bodies to provide pleasure to their new owners. For the speciality slaves, you must look elsewhere where the training is more elaborate."

"Such as," the Sheik prodded.

"Oh, you know, pony slaves, dog slaves, brothel slaves, cooks, masseuses, athletes, musicians - things like that. Although, of course, a lot of our offerings here can do many of these things with further training," Mr. Mehgahaugsey replied.

"And where would I find these speciality slaves here in Madagascar?" the Sheik prodded again.

"Exactly where I understand you plan to visit on your tour of this country's main dealers. I specialize in general usage slaves; my colleages in Antainabe, Farafargana, Morondava, and Androka all deal in just one speciality or another. The dealer in Antainabe trains pony slaves and only buys up slaves with bodies that look promising for that destiny. The dealer in Farafargana trains brothel slaves exclusively and generally picks a variety of beautiful, but sturdy specimens that can hold up to the rigors of constant whoredom. The merchant in Morondava trains slaves to be skilled athletes as well as models for advertising, movies, and pornography purposes. Some buyers go there to buy up "display" slaves who will spend their life posing as living statues and works of art, I understand. That merchants picks out slaves that are highly coordinated, strong but swift, and who, of course, are markedly handsome to behold. And the Androkan dealer specializes in slaves of great strength and endurance that are needed in the mines, as litter bearers, and in heavy construction and agricultural work. He only buys up slaves who are huge, muscular, and disease resistant, but pays little attention to overall handsomeness, the size of their genitals, or their personality. I understand that dealer generally trains most of his slaves to work in teams, in that usually they're chained together for various assignments. He also trains them to tolerate a heavy whip on their backs and rumps in that such slaves need constant encouragement to put forth their utmost in the demanding tasks they're put to. In summary, we Madagascar merchants feel we pretty well cover the market if you put us all together, although, I admit, we're scattered about throughout the country."

"Let me show you our training facilities, Sheik," Mr. Mehgahaugsey prompted as the Sheik was quickly bringing one of the cage holdings to a full eruption through his manipulations of the slave's erect organ. But the dealer's urgings were a little too late. The chocolate colored slave erupted with a volley of sperm into the Sheik's hand as he shuttered in ecstasy and relief. The Sheik merely wiped his hands off in the slave's hair and followed his host into the next room.

Here the sound of whips slashing across bare hide, electrical prods crackling, and the constant undercurrent of moans and whimpers filled the air. Slaves were being shown how to wait table, pour wine, make beds, run a vacuum cleaner, clean toilets, dust, set tables, and cook in one large section. Any mistakes were promptly noted with another slash of the whip across a back, some of which were bleeding profusely as the training had obviously been in session for some time. The slaves looked apprehensive, never knowing when they might make another inappropriate move or, worse yet, not move fast enough. Either would bring the dreaded whip once again smashing across their already cris-crossed back or rump. Every time the sizzle of an electric prod could be heard, the slaves universally looked fearful, shaking sometimes in their raw fear of the dreaded punishment. One slave, obviously having a bad day, just started screaming in agony as he once again made an error and he saw the electric prod advancing toward his genitals. Such a cowardly display was promptly dealt with, however. The trainers simply beat him into unconsciousness and let him lie in his own blood as an example to the others, giving him several electrical shocks so strong they burnt his skin where the prods were applied - a useful reminder of what would happen if he ever showed such unseemly behavior again in his training.

The next section of the training room was devoted to learning how to best provide pleasure to a potential buyer. All slaves here were butt plugged with a huge 12 x 3" dildo if they weren't in the process of being fucked at the time, spent a lot of time on their knees learning to swallow huge phalluses thrust clear down their throats without gagging, learned to withstand hours of tit, ball and prick fondling without any noticeable objections and with a smile on their faces, and, every three hours, had their butt plugs withdrawn briefly for a complete fucking by one of the trainers. Here also they learned to give themselves enemas to thoroughly cleanse themselves inside, to shave all their body hair without remiss, and to keep themselves clean and odorfree at all times with frequent showers and shampoos. Head hair was trimmed to specifications, penises as well as anal chutes were lubed regularly to avoid chafing, and strenuous exercise sessions, designed to keep their bodies appealing and flexible, were rigidly enforced. Although slaves at this dealership were generally not destined for the slave brothels, they all knew any slave halfway decent looking would be expected to perform sexually for his owners no matter who they might be. Any slave expected that at the very least so most of these slaves took to their training with few objections - after all, the techniques being taught simply made their duties a little easier to perform. Every slave there knew that if he owned a slave, he would use that slave's body for his own pleasure and expected nothing less from whomever bought them.

The final training room was devoted to slave hygiene, getting used to slave chow as the only dietary offering, and keeping their bodies in top shape for their owner's usage and pride. Here they were also given tips on attracting a buyer once they were caged in the sales area, what to expect in full ownership, and subtle hints on pleasing an owner no matter what they demanded.

The Sheik noticed almost all the slaves in this final training area seemed reasonably content, appeared well adjusted to their slavery, and possessed appealing sturdy bodies that had years of heavy use left in them. All resentment at being enslaved, all resistance to living for their master's whim, and any will of their own had long been extinguished at this point. They were, indeed, ready for sale.

"I'm most interested in your products. I can easily put them into further training once they are in Muscat until they reach Delta guarantee standards and then put them in the hands of our select clientele. I'm prepared to pay top prices if I can pick out the very best of your stock here and in the sales room. Shall we say at least $400,000 as a minimum for the best of the lot."

"Agreed, Mr. Mehgahaugsey quickly responded. "Buy up all your want. I'll have their ownership papers and sales receipts done within the hour. We can ship them out tonight if you wish and they'll be in Omani facility by tomorrow morning ready to enhance their training to your standards."

"Fine, I'll take six out of this room," the Sheik announced as he pointed to first one and then another beautiful specimens of manhood "and I saw about eight in the other room I think we could offer with further training as general purpose slaves." The Sheik swept into the sales room and quickly pointed to eight different cages. "That's 14 in all and I'll offer you 6 million for the lot of 14 - that's well over the $400,000 apiece we were talking about as a minimum."

"Your reputation is not exaggerated in any way, Sheik," Mr. Mehgahaugsey said excitedly. "I've never seen anyone make decisions so rapidly."

"Then we have a deal, Mr. Mehgahaugsey," the Sheik asked.

"Of course. Now and regularly in the future I hope," Mr. Mehgahaugsey answered enthusiastically. "Now that I know what you're looking for exactly, I can train them here and then put them into holding for your final inspection. Shall I count on as many next year?" he queried.

"No. Next quarter. I shall probably want about 50 stock at that time," the Sheik answered quickly.

"Wonderful, wonderful," Mr. Mehgahaugsey exclaimed. "Allah has indeed blessed our friendship. "I've have 50 of the best stock available in this cursed country ready and waiting for you in three months time. In the interim, I've have the sales papers prepared immediately for the 14 you just bought plus my black chauffeur and start making the shipping arrangements to your facility in Muscat. We generally ship slaves in separate confinement cages unless specified otherwise fully plugged but with watering bottles attached. Will an agent from Delta be available at the Muscat airport for pickup?"

"Of course, Mr. Mehgahaugsey. The employee in charge of pickup and delivery is on this card. Fax him immediately with your shipping arrangements and he'll be there to get the slaves through customs and to our facility. I'd appreciate it if you'd also fax a copy of the sales papers, ownership certificates, and sales receipts to my registrar as well whose name and fax number are on that same card. That way they won't have to wait for my return with the original copies if a potential buyer for this stock shows up. And the shipping cages you described will be fine - our airfreight services in Oman are used to them."

"It will be done within the hour, Sheik," Mr. Mehgahaugsey responded with a bow. "That will give us time to break bread together in my humble abode above these training facilities and for you to bed that black down in my guest room before your departure tomorrow. Don't fuck the black too hard, Sheik," he laughed, "in that he has to be able to able to drive you to the airport tomorrow for your visit to the dealer at Antainabe that specializes in pony slaves. You'll find the training procedures there harsh, but interesting."

"I want to make sure you enjoy my Croatian slave, Mr. Mehgahaugsey," the Sheik said as he motioned for the Croatian to assume a display position. "He's excellent in bed."

"I'm looking forward to using him rather thoroughly tonight," the dealer said reaching over and fondling the slave's genitals. "I'm afraid he'll be one tired boy by morning, but you must understand a white slave is relatively rare here - especially one so good looking and obviously well trained." he added as the slave quickly became fully erect and dripping.

By morning, the black slave did indeed suffer a sore butt - sore from the endless pounding he had gotten a good part of the night - but he was happy he had been able to satisfy the demanding Omani guest. The Croatian slave looked a little worse for wear - he walked straddle legged for the first hour of the morning and moaned with every movement of his ass.

"What's the matter with you, slave?" the Sheik barked as the Croatian limped across the room. "Did you get fucked to death?" he laughed.

"Close, master," the Croatian grinned. "The Madagascar dealer possesses a mammoth organ that felt like it was splitting me in half," the Croatian giggled, "but we Delta slaves know how to handle even the biggest ones," he stated with considerable pride and a thrust of his pelvis outward. "Thank you for asking, master," he said as he assumed a display position and thrust his pelvis out "Do you want me robed for the airport, master?" he asked humbly.

"Yes," the Sheik answered. "You'll stay clothed until we're at the next dealership where you'll strip naked again."

"Yes, master," the Croatian replied with eyes properly downcast. "Would you like to use me before we leave, master?"

"Don't have time, slave, but it was good to ask," the Sheik responded. "I imagine your white hide will be as appealing to the next dealer as it was to this one. He or his assistants will probably want your body in his bed tonight, so no telling how much usage you'll get before the sun shines again. I'd grease up good if I were you."

"Yes, master," the Croatian replied. "Thank you for reminding me," he added as if what he was being asked to do was in no way unusual, which, in fact, it wasn't in his case.

The black slave got them swiftly to the airport and saw them off to the dealer in pony slaves. He rubbed his ass in remembrance of the decisive Sheik from Oman and eagerly awaited returning to this same airport for overnight shipment to Oman once he was properly butt plugged and crammed into the tiny shipping cage he'd seen often enough at the dealers.

He wouldn't mind being one of those specially guaranteed "Delta" slaves himself, he ruminated. Even slaves had aspirations of greatness! I

VISIT TO MADAGASCAR: ANTAIRABE

The flight to the mountainous regions of Antairabe took less than 30 minutes. Somewhat to the Sheik's surprise, the dealer himself greeted both him and his accompanying body slave at the airport and escorted them to his waiting helicopter which whisked them to his estate, high in the mountains of Madagascar. When they landed, a beautiful open carriage awaited them, modern as could be with automobile-type tires, aerodynamic styling, and, most unusual, drawn by a team of eight magnificent human ponies, each fitted with a full body harness, mouth bits attached to helmets locked to their heads with reins attached to the sides of the helmet, ringed tits with small bells attached to each ring, fully banded genitals also equipped with small bells, and long fluffy tails emerging from each of the ponies' rumps, obviously attached to well emerged buttplugs. As the sheik took in the sight, he was momentarily speechless, while his Croatian slave attendant's reaction was to quickly get a full erection, obvious even through the thin robe.

"Your slave seems to like what he sees," the dealer chuckled as he pointed to the tenting robe. "Do you keep your slaves clothed?" he asked, obviously somewhat surprised at the robe on a mere slave.

"Only when traveling," the Sheik smiled as he motioned for the Croatian to remove his robe. "I usually keep all my slaves totally naked at all time," the Sheik explained. "That way, I can tell what their mood is," he laughed as he reached over and gently massaged the erect shaft.

"Monsieur Bonn, Sheik." The dealer extended his hand in welcome. "Welcome to my estate here in the mountains. I thought we'd start with a ride drawn by some of my products here - pony slaves. These boys are fully trained and ready to market now, but I thought you'll enjoy seeing the finished product in action before I show you the training facilities. Your reputation precedes you, Sheik Amani. You're practically a legend in the Madagascar slaving circles," he said graciously as he helped the Sheik into the waiting carriage and motioned for the Croatian slave to ride up on the footman's stand in back of the main seating area.

Once they were seated, Monsieur Bonn pulled on the reins with one hand and cracked the whips over the team's heads with the other. An audible gasp followed by a low moan emanated from the pony slaves as they promptly lunged forward in their harnesses, rapidly picking up speed as the whip danced over their backs and rumps.

"What's the moaning all about?" the Sheik asked. "Surely they're used to the whip by now."

"When I pull back on the reins, their butt plugs are driven deeply into their asschutes as the signal to pull harder. That way I don't really have to use the whip at all - I just enjoy seeing it dance over their bodies. That phallus in their asshole is what motivates them, though, and that's what they're moaning about!" he laughed. "We train all our stock to respond to phallus commands," he added rather proudly. "It's the most civilized way to drive a team - that way you're freed from whipping them if you have something else to do and you don't have to say a word, what with the directional reins attached to their helmets, to get them to do exactly what you want in terms of speed or direction."

"How do you signal them to stop?" the Sheik asked, genuinely curious by now.

"I simply pull back on their helmet reins. It pulls their heads back sharply and they better stop or get their neck broken," he laughed again. "Pulling their heads back hurts because it binds around their neck collars."

"How do they know to slow down?" the Sheik continued his questioning.

"Simple. I let up on the phallus plunger and the slaves know the decreased pressure means to slow down. The more pressure - the faster they should do. The less pressure - the slower. It's a simple system. The only problem I've run into is when you pull on the plunger too hard - until a slave is really adapted, they sometimes start bleeding. But they callous up fast enough so eventually they can take a full 12x4" phallus ramming all the way up them with no trouble at all and never miss a step."

"Ingenious," the Sheik said admiringly. "It's a technique I'll remember."

"It would be easier, Sheik, to just buy the stock already trained from my establishment. Training pony slaves takes a lot of know-how and patience, but we've got it down to an art form here. We get few complaints from any of the stock we sell off when their training is completed. Even after years of use," Monsieur Bonn said proudly. "I'm hoping we can work out a deal where I could provide most of the pony slaves your customers might be looking for."

"That's why I'm here, Monsieur Bonn."

"Just call me Bonn - everyone else does. I'm not really pure French anyway. It's just a title left over the old colonial days."

Within minutes, they reached Bonn's vast mansion. The slaves pulling the carriage were by now dripping with sweat and panting heavily in the fast pace that had been ordered. As they slowed down to stop, the tinkling of the many bells on their tits and dangling balls became less and less frequent and their breathing became less ragged as their muscles quivered in fatigue.

The mansion was on top of one of the many mountains of this area of Madagascar. This villa, which he had named Terraservum right after it was built, suited him well. As soon as Bonn and his guest had entered, he clapped his hands and a slave approached from the gathering shadows. It wore the standard iron collar of slavery, his large well-shaped genitals were banded by a thick ring, and he bore Bonn's personal brand on its well shaped chest but was otherwise wholly naked.

"Send two body slaves - and bring some food and wine for me and my guest." The slave bowed and disappeared.

Bonn invited his guest to follow him and strolled to the balcony where the two could look down on his estate. In the distance, a team of slave horses was pulling a wheeled plow homewards, exhausted after a hard day of toiling in the fierce sun. An overseer was perched on top of the plow, lashing out at the animals as they stumbled and fell. Well, they would have ten hours to recover before facing a new day, exactly like the last. Bonn knew the limits of human animals and, though they were worked hard, they were not worked to death This was some slaveowner's most glaring examples of stupidity. Slaves continually overworked were always having to be replenished. Few survived more than a few years, whereas Bonn's own slaves, even his work horses, had on average ten years of solid work in them.

The body slaves arrived and Bonn casually returned to his seat, throwing open the long robe which covered his naked body. The slaves were light skinned, young, slender, handsome to a fault but small in stature. They knew what to do - one went straight to its Master's cock, already thickening and growing in anticipation of the body slave's arrival. It took his owner's prick to the hilt without hesitation and Bonn sighed with pleasure as he felt his cock slide down the throat of the boy. The other body slave knelt before his master's guest awaiting instructions for his use. "Be my guest in the use of the body slave," Bonn murmured as he closed his eyes and luxuriated in the sucking.

"Bonn, I want to invite you to use my Croatian slave any time you want. He's well trained and I think you'll be pleased," the Sheik said as he looked down on Hanger's attending slave awaiting his instruction.

Bonn was lost in pleasure and his thoughts drifted to when he had purchased the prize pony slave whose training he had just recently completed. When he first purchased him, Bonn knew It would be a credit to him and he was looked forward to every stage of its training, but something had troubled him about the slave even as he purchased him. It had been nothing to do with its spirit - Bonn had broken much prouder spirits many times in the past.

His memories about the newly trained slave intensified as the sucking continued. No, there was something about its appearance. Why should he be troubled by the uncanny resemblance of the creature to himself? He usually didn't care what slaves looked like. With his eyes closed, he couldn't tell if the body slave servicing him was tall or short, blond or dark. These things did not matter - body slaves were simply mouths beautifully trained to suck and lick, and tight holes to fuck whenever he felt like it. But he could see this newly purchased slave, this - what did it claim it's name was - 'Jock' or 'Dieter' or something like that - before him. He could recall every curve and bulge of its musculature, the mole behind its left ear, he slight irregularity of one side of its mouth, so uncannily like his own. He did not like the way the animal had pushed towards him with its large penis shortly after being purchased. "I hope I do not have to geld it," he had thought. It would be a shame to have to do that but.... if the beast proved difficult in that direction.... It was always good to have at least one gelding around the place as an example to all.... but he hoped it would not be his brand new, expensive property. The knew the animal was much more of an asset in his eyes with its balls and cock intact.

As he thought of it, his cock became even more engorged, swelling to its thickest. The slave so expertly sucking him gagged a little and broke the rhythm. Bonn, in a rage at such incompetence, backhanded it viciously, sending it flying across the terrace. Bonn, now in a temper stood up just as his steward returned with food and drink.

"Take this slave and whip it. Twenty lashes. And let the slave who trained it receive fifty. This slave is still inexpert in his duties." The steward fastened a leash to the body slave's collar and the slave hastily crawled away - away from his Master's ire.

Bonn groaned, "Oh, Sheik, what a life I am forced to lead, surrounded by such incompetence. I can't even receive a simple sucking. I can only pray that my servicing you is performing his duties better" as he glanced down at the other body slave who had managed to swallow the Sheik's entire length without gagging and was sucking his master's guest's shaft intently.

"This slave is doing fine, my exacting friend," the Sheik assured him as he relaxed and gave in to the pleasure the body slave was providing.

"Then we won't need to whip him this time," Bonn said absently as he again thought of the newly purchased blond animal, this slave named 'Jock,' and he rejoiced in the memories of his training. That one was different. Bonn had made sure of that, " he thought with some satisfaction as he turned to the food and wine. The Sheik, caught up in the intense pleasure the body slave was providing him, did manage to offer him use of his own personal slave, the Croatian.

"Thank you for your thoughtfulness. Perhaps later on, but right now, I want to gain some satisfaction from my own slaves who need to earn their keep," Bonn answered and began enjoying the food brought to him. But after enjoying his meal, he again felt the need for some pleasure and instructed the nearby attending slave to send him another one of his more experienced body slaves. When the handsome muscular black arrived, clad only in a thick neck collar, dangling tit rings, and a thick genital band forcing his large organs into prominent display, Bonn pointed to the space between his knees. The beautiful black slave promptly knelt before his master and opened his mouth wide, swallowing the entire length of his owner's shaft in one slow movement until it was outlined in his throat. Only then did he contract his throat muscles around the invading shaft and suction as his mouth and throat moved as one in massaging his master's organ. The exercise was so well done, Bonn spilled his seed deep down the slave's throat just minutes after the slave had arrived. Still, he felt unsatisfied and motioned with his finger for the slave to turn around and place himself on all fours. Without hesitation, the black slave quickly got on his hands and knees, spread his knees as far apart as possible to best expose his ass hole, and positioned himself for easy entry of his master up his ass chute. But the winking pink ass hole looked like too much work for Bonn at this point, and, lying back on his divan, he again motioned the slave to mount him face forward, lowering his hole onto his owner's erect shaft. The slave quickly accommodated his master's inclinations and gently lowered himself inch by inch onto his master's shaft, whereupon he began a gentle up and down motion as he coordinated his own fucking. The slave, well trained, remembered to tighten his asschute as tightly as possible around his master's shaft while the pumping motions continued, and, after a much longer time, was rewarded with his master shooting load after load into his body. At the master's signal, he dismounted, cleaned his master's shaft by sucking it expertly into his mouth and swishing his tongue around the cum-covered shaft, and then, kneeling again, humbly thanked his master for using his body while stealing a glance at the handsome new white slave standing nearby and, understanding the visiting slave was a pleasure slave like himself, managed a quick wink of comradery.

Bonn quickly dismissed the able black slave and wondered why the slave before had been so incompetent even thought the one assigned his guest seemed to be satisfying enough.. Surely, 20 strong lashes would make the stupid slave attend to his duties somewhat better, but he knew the 50 lashes toward the trainer would have even more effect. That trainer would never forgive that particular body slave the error of his ways and he was sure the trainer's punishment of the slave would ultimately make the 20 lashes he had ordered seem as nothing. The next time he used that body slave, he expected him to be at least as good as the black slave he had just enjoyed, if not better! It would be interesting to compare the black slave's performance with the Sheik's own personal slave. From the Sheik's reputation, he assumed the white slave would perform beautifully no matter what he asked him to do.

"Tell me about training pony slaves," the Sheik said as he readjusted his robes and began to eat some of the delicacies provided. "I'm most interested in the whole process."

"Let me tell you about my latest project and one of which I am most proud, Sheik," Bonn smiled, pleasured his guest was interested in his chosen vocation. "The slave's name was Jock and he was well built for his destiny as a pony slave: strong, handsome, a solid build, and very enduring."

"It took a whole week of my time to break the new slave, Jock, completely. Sheik, " Bonn started in. "It tired me, both mentally and physically Two wills were locked in combat and breaking a slave meant reading its mind, anticipating its reactions, and thus refining the punishments that were used. In addition to beating, the slave would hang for hours in the center of the training chamber never knowing when the beating would start again or where it would be directed - all parts of his body were open for abuse. I knew that one must ignore all the desperate stratagems that a slave would put in place to avoid being broken. So it was that after four days of making progress - the whippings becoming ever more severe, the body increasingly marked, wounds being opened and re-opened by the lash, all these leading to a dullness in the eye, a tendency for resistance of any sort to dwindle - the fifth day showed a wildness about the animal. For four days it had been silent or increasingly so. At first there were screams and pleading but when these produced no results, the slave had taken recourse in a proud determination to take what was meted out to it. But when it was led from its solitary cage on the fifth day, back to the same chamber, attached to the same chains and strung up for yet another beating, something had snapped in the animal and it had swung in its chains and cursed and sworn at its Master even as I whipped it. This was to be expected - the road to a trained slave is never consistent or even.

"But by the end of that day, I knew that such a degree of beating would no longer be required. As a slave it was inevitable that it would be beaten again at some point in its life. There was not a slave in my household, of course, who could claim to have put that behind it - all knew that the slightest mistake or clumsiness would lead to punishment. Some slaves grew to love the whip and would sink into its embrace but this animal Jock was not one of that number. No, it hated to be beaten but by the end of that day it accepted that it had no choice and if it was to be whipped then whipped it must be.

"On the sixth day it was led to the same spot and chained in the same manner. I entered carrying in my hands a heavier whip than I had used previously. I stood before the slave and showed it the weight of the whip The slave did not react. So I retired some feet from my new property and raised the whip as if to strike The slave did not move a muscle. It did not react. It merely, mutely, accepted its Master's right to do with it what he willed. I did not whip it that day. I simply sat and watched the slave, who hung there, totally passive and accepting of what might come.

"On the seventh day, the slave being trained was whipped again. No reaction. I amused myself by playing with it. I bit on its nipples until they bled; I hung weights of increasing severity from its balls These new forms of pain brought grunts and cries but no resistance of any sort. It had accepted its fate as a slave - now its proper training could begin.

"It was taken from its cage to a stable where the other human horses and ponies were housed. There it had the sides of its head shaved, leaving a thick mane of blond hair. It was branded - it cried out when the iron burned into its flesh and moaned a little afterwards but it offered no resistance at any stage of the marking. Thick leather sandals were locked to its feet and it was led to a blacksmith's forge where horseshoes were hammered into place on the soles. It was bitted and bridled, harnessed and introduced to its first lessons.

"Sheik, I have a small circus arena just for this task. In this case, I banned all the other slaves and all my overseers from watching the training of this newly purchased blond marvel. I stood in the middle holding the reins attached to its bit and the animal circled me, lifting its legs high with each step, and, as its Master, I struck it with a vicious little crop when it failed to raise them high enough. On and on for hours and hours and hours. Day followed day, seemingly all the same. It never complained. It learned to trot, to pull a single carriage, to work as part of a team. I could not resist showing that it was more special than the others and would often attach little bells on clamps to its nipples so that it jingled as it pulled."

"Fascinating," the Sheik said. "Tell me more, but again let me offer my Croatian slave for your pleasure, motioning for the Croatian slave to stand in front of his host so he could be easily handled.

"Very well, I will continue, Sheik," Bonn said enthusiastically. "It's not often I find a person interested in the details of my work." He reached forward and, after massaging the Croatian's large balls and stroking the slave to full erection, motioned for him to kneel so that he could fondle the slave's tits. He continued with his tale of training his prize pony slave.

"As the days turned into weeks, the slave's sexual needs became more and more urgent as he was never allowed near the other stock, being chained in a separate pen, and he could not relieve himself in that his hands were always chained to his slave collar when he was penned. By the third week, he was hard most of the time, and by the fourth week, I found him constantly dripping pre-cum in need, especially, when caged at night, he could both see and hear the other human horses and ponies sucking and fucking each other as their only form of relief. But this slave Jock was never even given this opportunity and had to will himself to sleep each night with a throbbing prick seeping out lubricant.

"'I see you are becoming quite the stallion,' I said casually to the slave one morning as I reached down and hefted my slave's balls and ran my hand languidly over the throbbing erect shaft. 'That's the way a stallion should show - eager and ready all the time. That's why you'll always be chained to your collar every night and never let with the other horses who are allowed to seek relief when stabled as no doubt you are aware by now. But you, you are a special stallion, and I never want to see you touching your genitals, slave, unless you are instructed to do so.'

"'Yes, master,' Jock replied obediently, thinking of the many times he had fucked other slaves in the holding pens awaiting his latest sale as well as the endless times he had been put to sexual use by previous masters and mistresses, practically from the first day he had been sold into slavery. He even recalled the frequent fucks he gave all the town girls in his early youth when he had been free much to their delight. Now, he clearly understood, he was a stallion on show and stallions had to show hard - no debilitating eruptions for this beast of burden. Again, the enormity of his slavery subdued him and he accepted his plight of chronic aching need - his training had been complete!

"Sheik, I made this stallion part of a team so that it would not see its specialness as conveying any extra privileges but he was happiest when it was harnessed for pulling me alone. Even here I insisted on getting the slave ready myself. I loved to lead it out of its stall and put the leather harness around its body, pulling the straps tight as it waited impassively with its penis hard and dripping. Most Masters prefer chaining each of the animal's hands to the poles it ran between. But I knew that this meant that all strength came essentially from the arms. The harness I had devised meant that the arms were pulled behind the slave and bound together and then chained in position as they gripped a bar connecting the two poles. Then harness straps led from the torso to the carriage itself. Now the strength was evenly distributed between all parts of the upper torso, leaving the lower torso unencumbered so that running was facilitated. The head was bridled and bitted, with long reins coming from the corners of the mouth and blinkers attached to the sides, giving the driver total control.

"This harnessing became a special ritual between the slave and myself, curiously intimate, Sheik. . The final touch came when the slave Jock, in position in front of the cart, would bend over as I inserted a thick plug (with a horse's tail sprouting from it) into his hole. It was essentially a decorative touch, again bestowed on very few, but I never took this slave out riding, unless it was plugged. The plug made it more difficult to trot as the giant intrusion worked its way around in the chute from all the vigorous ass motions, and, initially, caused some rectal bleeding and extremely painful excursions for the animal. But most slaves, Jock included, eventually acclimated to this intrusion by the stretching of the ass chute and formation of callouses such a device demanded in order to be fully tolerated. More importantly, it served as a constant reminder of the slave's status as an animal under total control of a master. If his owner wanted him plugged, so be it! Besides, as if he needed it with his totally restricted sexual outlets, by rubbing constantly against his prostate, the plug assured that he was hard and dripping the entire time it was in place. Special occasions meant another decorative device - a head harness with extravagant black plumes rising from it. Trembling between the shafts, his ass twisting urgently to accommodate the plug jammed up his butt, the slave Jock knew that he had a tough time ahead. Jock waited for me, its Master, to take my place. A naked slave would run forward, kneel in the dust and I would step into my carriage, crack the whip lightly on his horse's back and off I would go. I never tired of taking this slave out - I loved to watch its back muscles straining - much broader now than when I had first bought Jock. Best of all was the use of the reins for I am an experienced horseman, knowing exactly how much to pull. Blinkered as it was, the slave Jock depended totally on such precision with the reins to preserve its very life, for harnessed in this way, it could make no decisions for itself.

Bonn continued to fondle the pecs and ringed tits of the Croatian, now swollen and fully erect. The body slave moaning softly from his handling but never flinched - indeed, he was pressing his nipples into Bonn's hands invitation for further usage. Unsurprisingly, the slave being fondled was beginning to profusely leak pre-cum as the stimulation continued unabated.

Bonn never paused in continuing his tale, however.

"This was my usual method of transport but there was an extra treat I reserved for short journeys or when I was feeling indulgent. A saddle was placed on the slave Jock's broad muscular back and it would bear its Master around the property as I inspected and approved or punished. This was slow moving and arduous but wonderfully humiliating for the slave. Jock was no longer treated in any way as human. Speech was forbidden to it. Jock came to accept that this was the way he would lead his life.

"As Jock's body filled out with all the exercise, I reflected that, though expensive, the slave was proving worth its price. I was proud of it and would let none of the stable slaves even so much as touch it. I myself wiped it down after its day was done; I was the one who stroked it and groomed it and I was the one who murmured to it. And Jock began to respond to these moments, nuzzling me and rubbing its head against my hands as I worked on it. It was the only form of relationship he knew and the slave thought of it as the special love between a slave and his master.

"Within three months, I knew I had a real showpiece of what could be done with a magnificent specimen properly and completely trained by an expert. The animal had progressed better than I could have dreamed possible. It was everything I, as a lover of pony slaves, had dreamed of and more. The slave had settled into its life and, though broken, had retained something of fire in its belly. That, and the obvious pride in its uniqueness, stamped it as a noble animal."

"A wonderful success story, told by a man who obviously loves his craft," the Sheik said admiringly. "I was wise to visit here and wonder at your expertise. What is it like for the slave do you imagine?"

"Well, we can only surmise, Sheik. I can tell you when we first started the training, the muscular slave was slumped in his chains, his arms stretched upright bearing all the weight of his broken body. Jock was conscious in the sense that he had not fainted during the beating he had just received but his mind probably scarcely knew where it was. While he was being whipped, I imagine his mind had desperately sought escape from the agony his body was enduring: I would guess it had gone on a journey, traveling through the pain and coming out to vast plains topped by floating clouds. The slave was still in pain but he was also still in the clouds.

"As his new Master, I stood before him, observing him. I let the whip fall from my hand and it clattered to the ground, shattering the intense quiet in the dark, vaulted stone chamber. Frankly, I had forgotten how good it is to break a new slave, how satisfying, but also how demanding. Usually new purchases are broken by my more senior slaves but I had spent so much money on this specimen at the auction that I felt I should take charge of its training myself. I'd made a sizeable investment in the slave, and was still unsure what had caused its price to keep rising during the bidding. But this was superb stock, Sheik. I instinctively knew it from the first lashes. This creature had obviously been whipped before and had courage and endurance like so many of Germanic blood, but it was unlikely that it had ever been lashed to this extent. I enjoyed exploring the slave's body with the vicious slave whip that I always carry on my belt.. Stoicism was evident in this slave's reaction to lashes I laid fiercely on the back or buttocks. The slave had groaned, but was otherwise silent. But when I had started on the chest, it had jerked violently in its chains - a pathetic attempt at avoiding the blows. And as the leather had stolen quick kisses on the nipples, the slave had screamed as its journey of pain continued.

"I'm afraid I'm something of a scientist as well as an artist in the breaking of slaves. Work of this kind I admit I take cool pleasure in, but never to the extent that I cease to observe and judge as I go about my task of breaking a slave. Sheik, I'm a man firmly in control of all my emotions and feelings - essential for a good pony slave trainer if you ask me. This is partly due to my own Nordic background before I came to Madagascar - you know, Sheik, sparing of words, detached, curious. There was something of the same ice in the slave before me. And the slave and I were alike in other ways too, Sheik. Both of us were of similar height and build, though Bonn painfully admitted that his body had not the tightness and hard definition of the slave's. Both Master and slave were blond and handsome in a careless, unostentatious way. The slave was more than half his master's age, not far beyond boyhood, and Bonn felt that he should be able to get fifteen glorious years of service from it, and possibly a few more, before it would be discarded.

"What had possessed me that I should have attended this slave's auction? Sheik, I hadn't been to one for years, relying on my slave manager to choose and get the correct stock for my purposes. Frankly, I was bored - utterly bored - I was surfeited with all my estate here to offer and had lost interest in my work. Thus I had long brooded at home while my manager did most of the work: buying, transporting the fresh stock to this place, and then the long training. But this time, on a whim, I went myself and as soon as I set eyes on this proud Germanic slave, my interest in training was re-ignited by the immense challenge that breaking this slave would be. . This magnificent slave might take years to fully train, but my vision was clear, and patience is an intrinsic part of my nature. Such patience, together with the diligence and coolness I've already revealed to you, would unite to produce an ultimate pony slave - a totally trained animal - the envy of all other trainers.

"When I first came to this country, I was just thirty years old and in the prime of my energy and ambition. But I had an eye and could see potential among slaves where others saw none. Too many of the rich men able to buy up human livestock wanted beauty before all - I had no time for such trifles. I didn't care what a slave looked like. I was able to look behind a flabby body - out of condition, often as not fat - and I changed them into sleek, muscled, wholly conditioned horses. There isn't one of my animals that can't pull a single carriage for ten hours a day if needed (albeit with those frustrating but sadly necessary breaks for rest which unfortunately all animals needed).

" Sheik, I don't want to brag, but the competing businesses closed down as my products proved superior. Only I trained with such discrimination, taking some huge fat slave and producing within a few months another draft horse for the most demanding mines and plantations in the world. My ponies are highly prized, even though they cost a stiff premium, for drawing carriages and carts on estates both here and throughout the world. My success is so complete I now have a virtual monopoly as the sole provider of human horses in all of Madagascar. And, Sheik, I am rich, richer than anyone could even imagine with the exception of yourself, of course. But the richer I became, the more discontented I became for I felt that wealth should open the way to power. Not just power over the thousands of slave animals I own, but power that translates into respect from others who are also rich and own thousands of slaves themselves. I want it where everyone shows me respect genuflexion in my presence, lying flat on the floor with their noses pressed into the ground - slave and master alike. I know it will never happen, but that's what I really want power."

"Ah, my good friend," the Sheik counseled. "Such a dream, as you already know, will never come to fruition. That's why civilization has never given up the institution of slavery - it fills a need for people like us as well, of course, for the slaves. You must be content within what is - your thousands of slaves who genuflex and press their noses into the ground - who offer their asses up for a good fucking at your mere whim - and take comfort in the respect they have in the absolute power you hold over their lives, such as they are. All else is a futile dream."

The Sheik continued. "Only you, me, people like me in the business, and the slaves you have trained know just how much thought and consideration went in to the breaking and training of human animals. You have carefully devised exact methods on how each individual slave is to be trained and fed and cared for in its own unique way! And you have been ingenious, finding new methods of strengthening certain muscle groups, experimenting with diet, manipulating the timing and extent of the various training disciplines, to produce the best possible results in each slave."

"Well, yes, I have done that, Sheik," Bonn replied thoughtfully. "And, Sheik, "all these years breaking and training the human horses have been exciting! There was always something new to discover; something new to observe that might lead me to refine my thinking; some new ways to trim my budget and bring returns on each investment that were at the very least ten times the sum I had spent. My chief glory up to until recently was the training and remodeling of a sorry hulk of an animal, so fat that the least effort left it short of breath. After my work with him, the former, huge monster was now unrecognizable - still massive but all of it hard, solid muscle. Buyers were happy to pay up for such an animal, little knowing that they were paying almost forty times what it had cost me to purchase the animal less than six months before. It was a triumph I thoroughly enjoyed.

"But this triumph had faded. Little by little I recorded all my methods and I trained slaves to do what I did, allowing me to withdraw some from the business itself. I was bored by it now. I wanted larger horizons, more to stimulate me and reawaken my joy in life. Now this new slave provided me with a challenge. That is why it was separated from all its fellow animals I had bought when all of them were brought here directly from that latest auction.

"All those new slaves were taken to the stables, where each had been assigned a stall - their home from now on - and were soon learning from the bottom up what it meant to live a life as a human animal.

"But this one slave, named Jock, was special. It would help me find joy in living again. Not for it, then, the bit and the harness from the beginning. No, this one would have to be studied and developed in a new way. True, much of its training would be similar to that dealt out to the others but they were common draft animals or garden horses or show ponies. Here was his opportunity to provide a marvelous stallion that would invite wonder and envy throughout all of Madagascar.

"When I first looked him over, its eyes were closed, its blond hair was flopping over its forehead, its tanned, hard body was sweating and thus gleaming in the harsh lights of the examination room. I moved slowly and silently towards it. The slave did not react. I grabbed it by the hair on the back of its head, pulling it up into the light and I looked deeply into the eyes, searching them for what they might reveal about it. They were dull and vacant at first but gradually came to focus on its new Master's own eyes. The two men stood still as statues as they read each other. Physically, this slave might have been me at the same age and the thought cost me a pang of regret as I saw what I had once been - how handsome I had been -how athletic - how strong. Oh, this slave would have to be handled so carefully to produce the best in it. Looking into those piercing blue eyes, I saw that there was a long way to go - this slave was not broken by the beatings to date - some part still remained free. I liked that. The longer the journey, the greater the accomplishment and the higher the standard of obedience. It would be a long painful process for this slave but the end I had in mind easily justified the amount of time I would have to devote to this beast until it emerged as the most astounding human pony I had ever produced. Still holding it by its hair, I pried open the mouth and examined the teeth - strong and white. Good. Then I felt the muscles of the back. The slave cried out as the hands explored the wounds left by the whip, but I was indifferent to shows of weakness - soon it would learn to curb all unnecessary noise. My hands continued to prod and poke and stroke - now the flatness of the belly, now the sculptured pectorals, now the firm buttocks, now the quivering thighs. This was very promising material, something to build on. Ponies and dray horses I had in abundance, but a stallion was a real rarity. Not for it the over- developed muscles of a dray horse. The sleekness would be retained even as the body filled out.

"As my hands patted and stroked and caressed, they brushed the animal's large flaccid cock - slowly it came to life and rose upwards. As the slave Jock swayed in its chains, it tried to push its cock and balls towards its new Master as if seeking relief. I glanced at it - there was wildness in the slave's eyes, as if it had been startled by the response of its member. But there was also something imploring there too. I was used to this response. I'd seen many times how quickly an unbroken slave will try to avert further punishment by currying favor with its trainer, offering the only thing it has - its body - to its master. But I had plenty of pretty body slaves, specially trained to provide maximum pleasure, to do that for me. This creature was of no interest to me sexually and even if it had I wouldn't allow such frivolities to detract me from my task. But my hand did stroke the beast's quivering hard cock until I knew the slave's need to erupt was overwhelming and then I slapped it for its impudence, offering the slave no relief of his need.

"'No, no, my beauty,'I crooned to it, 'that is not what you are here for - it won't be that easy for you. I have no time to waste on diversions of this kind with an animal of your potential. I have a task before me and it will not be easy for either of us, though you will suffer more than I. For you must suffer grievously before I can start to train you properly. You have been whipped and already you feel that nothing could be worse than that, but I assure you that is mild compared to what you must endure. But courage, my beast, for you will emerge from the pain transformed and best able to adjust to your new life.'

"I stepped back and patted the slave on its head. 'Soon I shall send a slave to tend to your wounds but for the moment rest quietly and think on what you have suffered and on what might be to come. Explore your fears. Think of the worst that I might do to you and then multiply it tenfold, a hundredfold, and be content. For it is only when you are content to accept all that I can do to you that you will find peace.'

"I turned to leave but the slave cried out, 'Please, Sir, Master Sir, tell me what awaits me. Let me know, I beg you.' I hesitated, but stood almost irresolutely, observing the slave. Seeing this, the slave redoubled his pleas. 'I know you can do anything to me but let me know, please Master, so that I might find the strength for it.'

"I frowned. What new wile was this? This slave seemed to be acknowledging its Master's power already? Was it trying to trick me into leniency? Certainly, that would be wasted effort. With a gesture of impatience, I turned away.

As I moved away, the slave Jock screamed, almost hysterically, 'Save me, Master, please save me.' I turned to it again and something stirred in me seeing this prize, this beauty, straining in its chains, each movement sharpening the lines of its body.

"'Save you, slave? From what, for what? Only I know the answers to these questions - you will learn soon enough.'"

"'Master, I beg you. Save me from my mind, from the fears that attack me. If only I know what is to come, then I can bear it. But I cannot bear this.'"

"'Ah, but you will learn for I will teach you, so patiently, so considerately, so painfully.' My voice was kept low and crooning.

"'Why do you speak like this?" the slave Jock cried. 'You speak as one would to an animal! I am human, like you. I can speak, like you. I can think, like you.' This impassioned outburst caused me to smile.

"'That is true - but only for the moment. You will be changed. You will not recognize yourself soon.' I turned again and walked slowly and purposefully from the chamber. The slave's desperate cries followed me down the corridor.

"'I am human, like you- just like you! Do you hear me? A human being, even if I am a slave.. I'm human. My name is now Jock, but I was originally Dieter. I come from Germany. My name is Jock.' And the last I heard was a long wail as it screamed, "Jock!" into the silence that surrounded it. 'I'm a human - a human, I tell you, Master!'

"That, Sheik is how my journey in training this slave began. You will see for yourself now the end of that journey - Jock the Stallion, my finest product," Bonn said with considerable pride as he finally stopped kneading the Croatian's sore tits and motioned for him to move back to his owner.

That very afternoon, the Sheik got to ride on the bitted Stallion, fitted with his shoulder saddle for the event; had the slave draw both him and his host in a two person carriage for a ride around the estate's training grounds; and finally saw him hitched to a plow for a demonstration of his tremendous strength. In the process of the long afternoon, everything Bonn had told him in his long narrative made perfect sense to the Sheik. Bonn had devised the perfect way to turn human slaves into perfect horses. The man was indeed a master in his craft.

That evening, Bonn entertained lavishly with a delicious meal served by over a dozen beautifully trained pleasure slaves, all devastating beautiful and eager to serve. After enjoying the bodies of some of the slaves provided, Bonn and he watched the Croatian fuck the magnificent black pleasure slave that had sucked his master so expertly that morning while they enjoyed their dessert.

"I want to buy 60 trained ponies from you every year, Bonn," the Sheik announced calmly. "They must be extremely muscular, well hung, handsome, and, of course, completely trained to their lives as draft animals. Only those types of slaves can I further train to my guarantee standards and then offer to my world wide clientele searching for the perfect pony slave for their estate. I shall pay you $550,000 each for them if they meet all the criteria I just stated, But for a stallion, such as your slave Jock, I will pay you $850,000 because, frankly, Bonn, I can market such an animal for at least $1 million. I know a true stallion only comes along once in a while, but when you spot one, train him for me, and I will enrich you like never before and give you the satisfaction of knowing that I, and others like me, recognized you as the best pony trainer in the world."

"Agreed," Bonn said, obviously delighted with the business offer. Sixty trained animals a year and every stallion I can find and train will be shipped directly to your Muscat warehouses."

"And, to seal the deal, I'd like to buy that black being fucked in front of us - I could easily market him with some further training to guarantee standards for just what he is - a well trained pleasure slave. How much for the black, Bonn?"

"No charge, Sheik. It's my way of thanking you for making our business arrangements so satisfactory and expeditious. I'll charge you $1 for him so the transfer of ownership is legal. Did you want to take him with you or did you want me to ship him to Oman for you tomorrow?"

"Thank you for your generous offer, Bonn. I'll take you up on it to, as you say, seal the deal. I won't forget your kind offer. Ship the black slave out in a standard shipping cage tomorrow. Fax the ownership papers to my administrative officer on this card and give me the originals. Also fax my merchandise manager about the property being shipped to Oman and the airline and expected time of arrival. He will handle everything from the time his cage is unloaded in Muscat."

"But before you prepare him for shipping, I'd like to explore the black's body in my own bed tonight if you don't mind. In return, of course, I offer you the use of my Croatian slave. He has real talent over and above just offering you his tits to fondle," the Sheik chuckled.

"The black is your's to enjoy, Sheik," the merchant-trainer responded graciously. "And I will enjoy bedding down your white slave. He looks like it would be most pleasurable to fuck."

"He is," the Sheik replied. "He's thoroughly trained to please you in every way."

"Sheik," Bonn said almost shyly. "I want to thank you for not insisting on buying my prize stallion - at least right now. As you must have sensed, I have formed quite a bond with the beast after investing so much of my time and energy in training him and look forward to entering him in several horse shows in the near future where I'm fairly certain he'll walk away with most of the awards. I'll enjoy that, whether or not the slave does is irrelevant, of course. But Jock will establish my reputation as a master trainer of human horses, and, in no time at all, I imagine I can be offering his stud services at considerable profit. I had planned to stud him long after he was no longer capable of pulling my carriages. I figured he could fuck the fillies put to him until he dropped dead in the process," Bonn laughed, "and make me a very rich man while he's pumping away. But to do that, he's got to have an award-winning reputation and the horse shows will do that for him."

"I never planned to try to buy Jock from you, Bonn. Not after I saw the special relationship between the two or you. You know he looks almost exactly like you must have looked in your youth! The resemblance is almost uncanny. Are you sure you didn't sire him off some slave woman some way down the line?"

"I'm sure we're in no way related," Bonn laughed, "although I noticed the similarity in some of our physical features when I first bought him."

"I was also fairly certain you planned to put the animal to stud," the Sheik said knowingly. "You'd be a fool not to!" he laughed. "Besides, there will plenty of other stallion- quality slaves come your way over the years which you can train and then ship to me in Oman. I'm a patient man."

In such a casual conversation, Jock's future was decided. He would spend the next few years harnessed as the horse he now was, sweating and toiling for the amusement of those judging stock at the various animal shows to which he would be taken for exhibit. During this time, he would be kept on strict rations, forced exercise, and sexually restricted so that he would remain supremely muscled, in excellent health, and chronically frustrated. Once he was too old and worn out to serve as a demonstration of his master's suburb training routines, his days of sexual frustration would be over and the opposite would become his life: he would be forced to breed for his master over and over each day with one human slave woman after another until his dying breath. Never would he know anything but absolute obedience to his master, exhausting work, sweat, and exhaustion, and a perverse pride in being the best of what he was: a show animal.

The next morning both the black and the Croatian slave looked absolutely exhausted as they humbly thanked the masters for being allowing to pleasure them. Both unconsciously rubbed their sore asses as they first walked a little bow-legged getting out of their user's beds, ignoring the still sticky cum that had been spattered over their bodies. Both slaves were sent to the bathes for a complete cleansing inside and out along with fresh body shaves. The black was then crammed into the tiny shipping cages the airlines preferred with a tiny water bottle attached to the inside bars while the Croatian carried his master's luggage to the waiting helicopter.

"The dealers up at Farafargana do things a little differently," Bonn cautioned his guest as they sauntered toward the helicopter. "I'm sure you'll find it most interesting."

"In what way, Bonn? The Faragarguanan dealers are as famous for their training of pleasure slaves as you are in the training of horse slaves. But I was unaware the training techniques themselves were that different," the Sheik said curiously.

"Well, Sheik, who would buy a horse slave whose hide wasn't covered in whip scars? It's the first thing buyers look for to assure them the animal has been properly trained. They know that a good horse slave must be whip trained from the very beginning. But pleasure slaves? No one's going to buy a bed buck with his hide all scarred up. Buyers want their pleasure boys to be as smooth skinned as they day they were born. So what do you do in training them properly?"

"A gentle whip?" the Sheik offered.

"There's no such thing that has any effective training potential," Bonn scoffed. "Good training requires a whip that bites deep into the flesh to have any positive effect. No, the trainers up at Farafargana faced a special problem and they've done a pretty good job of solving that problem - although it is pretty high tech," Bonn laughed.

"High tech?" the Sheik replied. "In what way?"

"Well, you'll soon see for yourself, but they are really into radio activated pain collars, electronic dildos, and wireless scrotum shockers to name a few. But it all works well - the slave's hides are scar-free, the slaves are eager to perform their tasks in pleasuring their users, and the dealers have picked up a world-wide reputation in training premium pleasure slaves - good looking boys who'll do any and everything without any hesitation whatsoever. Furthermore, from my own experience with their products, those slaves keep right at it - they can take on user after user without slowing down one bit. You'll be impressed. That makes them the perfect products for brothel use - a Farafarganan brothel slave makes his owner a lot of money over a lifetime if he's managed right," Bonn added.

"I'm glad I included Farafargana on my itinerary," the Sheik smiled. "Products that prove profitable are always of great interest to me."

"That's why you'll like the human horses I'm going to be shipping you," Bonn said happily. "You'll find a good market for them, I'm sure."

"Yes," the Sheik replied. "There is always a small, but steady market in horses and ponies. But brothels go through slaves like horses go through their feed. There is always a big demand for handsome, well-trained pleasure slaves."

"Well, you're going to like your next visit then."

With that, the Sheik and his Croatian body slave entered the heliocopter, waved a fond farewell to the human horse trainer, and headed for Madagascar's leading dealer in brothel slaves.