FOUR THE SAME by Pete Brown petebrownuk @ yahoo.com
Read all of Pete's stories at groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories
Part Four
Having heard about the tattoo in the salve's ass crack, I was intrigued and simply had to see it. I've already told you how erotic I find it to touch the brand on a slave, to know that this piece of male flesh has been permanently marked as the property of his owner: as I run my finger tip over the indentation in the slave's skin I just can't help getting an erection, not so much from the physical sensation itself, but from the implication of what that mark implies for the man's life. Were I ever lucky enough to be able to own a slave - and there was little likelihood of that, given my residence in the UK - I would certainly have him permanently marked as my property with a brand, in order that he would fully understand that he was no longer a free agent, but simply something that was my possession, to do with as I chose.
The very thought of this additional marking, an "inventory number" tattooed into his skin, sent me to new erotic heights. The idea that a man might own so much male flesh that he needed to keep track of it using inventory control programs was in itself highly charged, and it was clear that the slave would have his sense of manhood further diminished by this evidence that he was of no more concern to his owner than was the man's car, or his pictures, or whatever. Truly the slave must now see that he was merely owned property, something that could be inventoried, listed, stored, and sold, as required.
I cut the slave's narrative short by digging my finger nails into his left nipple - I had already discovered that his nips were incredibly sensitive - and he jerked backwards, giving a little cry of surprise. Amused by this, I tried again, and the slave was in that happy state of a little "discomfort" leading to intense sexual arousal at the thought of another man doing things like this to him: he was alternately whimpering in a kind of mock-scared kind of way, and laughing uproariously at his own inability to control his body's reactions. As my fingers moved towards his nip, making a kind of pincer, he writhed, begged, laughed, and generally added to my own excitement by his reactions.
We lay there, panting and laughing at our behaviour. Of course, had I been serious about wishing to really torture these delightful parts of his body I could have had him secured and then used clamps and pincers to really torture him, but this episode was different - it was just sexual foreplay, and we were both enjoying it (well, I was, and I suppose he was, too).
I really did want to keep playing with his nipples as they were specially nice - tight, hard nubs standing proud from large, dark aureoles. Even against his deeply sun-tanned skin the aureoles stood out as enticingly darker parches, and as I looked at them I could clearly see those tiny pimples that men so often have around the edges where the aureole joins the regular skin of the slave's pec - nothing large or ugly, but just tiny imperfections in the general seam and the texture. It all adds to the pleasure of closely examining another body, and shows us once again what an incredible variety of textures and sensations a man's body can provide for the fingers of a master. Of course, as he was shaved completely smooth all of this was easily visible - I'm not sure myself, though, whether a light dusting of hair here isn't an advantage: it's that "texture" thing, to provide variety for the finger tips and to delight the eye.
But let me not digress into the other erogenous zones of the slave, there will be time for that later. Once we had calmed ourselves and were again just lying close, feeling the warmth of each other as our bodies pressed companionably together, I asked him again about the inventory number. He shifted a little, giving me a wonderful sensation in my ass (the slave knew that I enjoyed feeling his strong, warm muscular thigh between my legs, and when we were lying face to face, he managed to contrive to get his leg between mine so that he could then bend it slightly and rub his thigh gently over that incredibly sensitive part of me behind my balls and around my hole - this is, I believe, one of the real pleasures of lying with a man, even if you are not having actual intercourse).
"Well, sir, after the initial stinging had worn off, I don't think about it much at all. I mean, in everyday life the slave handlers here at the palace are not concerned about it, as they know who we are - after all, you could hardly mistake the four of us for other slaves, could you? So they don't need to use the number at all, and can just check us off their control lists "by sight". But occasionally our owner's financial people come around to do an audit of his property, and then they insist on seeing the inventory number on us. They have big printed lists of all our owner's possessions - I saw it once, and it said things like 'Slave, male, trained' by the side of our numbers, together with a lot of financial information like 'value at acquisition', 'depreciation rate', and 'current book value' . We have to bend over and pull our ass cheeks apart so that they can verify that we really are the slaves in the inventory.
I think they get a bit of a thrill out of it actually, sir - I mean, they don't look to be very highly paid, and so I don't suppose that they can afford to own, or even hire, slaves like us. So getting a chance to really peer at a set of nice asses, as we've got, must be a bit of a thrill for them."
I suppose I was astonished at the casual way in which the slave spoke about this, but then, after all, he was from the Sheikh's "pleasure room", and I could only imagine what his regular duties consisted of. Certainly my own experiences with him so far in bed were that he was totally uninhibited in enjoying the male body, and highly skilled in using it to bring pleasure to his companion. Just thinking about how he might be used by some of his owner's guests who were less considerate than me, I suppose it's not so surprising that having to reveal yourself like that to a bunch of administrators actually isn't a problem. It's hard, after all, to imagine what it must be like to live your entire life totally naked, with every part of your body always on public display.
Anyway, I told him to roll over onto his belly, then knelt between his firm muscled thighs and gently pushed at them. He obligingly moved his feet wide apart, and I told him to reach back and spread his ass cheeks for me. There, as he had described, was a number tattooed in dark black ink: eight digits, nestling there on the side of his left buttock, standing out crisply from the surrounding pale skin, and lightly sheened with perspiration. I touched the numbers gently with my finger tip, but could detect no different sensation from the warm moistness that was in that area, unlike when I had touched his brand. But nevertheless my erection went to new levels of hardness as I thought about the whole concept of marking a man as property. The delicious scent of maleness that you always get from this part of the male body was assailing my nose - I suppose it's all the sweat glands around the genitals generally - and it was all too much for me. I took my dick in my hand and gently ran it up and down his crack, stopping at his pucker to wiggle it around without even seeking entrance. The sensation from the tip of my dick was amazing, and I started to drool pre-cum - and as this whole area of his body got more and more slippery from my juices, it got better and better for me.
Panting with my urgency I reached down and clasped my hands under his muscled belly and tugged gently, to indicate that he should raise his ass in the air. With no hesitation he scrunched forward, as if he instinctively understood my message, at the same time pressed his shoulders down into the bed and turned his handsome face to one side. All the time he held his ass cheeks wide apart for my greater pleasure, and now I couldn't resist the temptation any longer: I positioned my dick firmly on his sphincter, and pressed forward. Even a trained slave, one whose ass must have been host to hundreds of dicks, offers some resistance to entry, and I had that special joy as my dick head popped through and his muscles gripped my shaft.
I fucked him quite hard - well, hard for me. No doubt he had other men who really slammed into him, and I don't think that the moans and cries he gave were from pain, or from pleasure. In fact, I'm not exactly certain that he wasn't faking them - but on the other hand, they were so perfectly in synchronisation with my own movements in and out of him, that perhaps they were genuine.
As I've got older, I've found it takes me longer and longer to cum. When I was in my early twenties I barely had to stroke my dick before shooting, and had I been in a gorgeous ass like this, a few quick thrusts and it would have been all over. Nowadays, though, masturbation is an activity that I could probably pursue all night, and it takes me a long time to finally climax when I'm fucking. The shear eroticism of the thoughts surging through my brain about the marking of the slave had evidently fired my body to special heights, as I felt myself very quickly start to slip over the edge. I clasped my hands to each side of the slave's muscular backside to give myself more purchase, and my hand of course touched the indentation of his brand - that was enough! My body arched as I thrust home hard and deep, and I gave a cry of sheer ecstasy as my sperm emptied itself into him.
Still buried inside his ass, I bent forward so that my sweat-soaked chest was against his wet, muscular back, and dug my nose into the little hollow at the top of his spine, on his neck, revelling in the sheer maleness of him.. I was half laughing, half giggling, as one does after an especially good sexual experience, and I whispered to him to keep flat on his front. I lay there, my body on top of his, just two men together, two men who have shared that ultimate delight of sex, and I suppose that to a casual observer there would be no way of knowing that he was merely a slave, a slave trained for sexual pleasure, whereas I was a respected guest of his owner. Somehow, being naked together and sharing sex removes the divide between men, doesn't it? My tastes generally run to muscular, "blue collar" men, and when I have managed to lure one of them to my luxury apartment in London, I'm often surprised how, after sex, we're able to talk as equals even though I'm hundreds of times richer, much better educated, run a large business empire, and am almost certainly to or three times more intelligent than my companion. Truly, sex is the thing that brings men together, I think, and there would be far less stress and strife in the world if we put aside our normal concerns in life and simply related to our fellow me as sexual beings.
Anyway, after I had finally pulled out of him some minutes later, I was amazed when he gently turned me onto my back so that he could crouch over me and gently clean my dick and balls with his sensuous prehensile tongue. It occurred to me that as a pleasure slave he must come to these assignments thoroughly cleaned out inside, unless, of course, he'd been trained to tolerate, or even enjoy, the taste of his own shit?
Once more lying in each others arms, and with the dawn still a long time away, I encouraged him to continue telling me about his life.
THE SLAVE'S STORY
We all wondered what was going to happen to us as we were led up through the enormous building, with the furnishings gradually getting to be more and more opulent. A door was opened, and we were in a kind of vestibule, or "butler's pantry" off what was evidently some kind of banqueting hall, where a banquet was in full progress.
There must have been at least fifty men in the last stages of a sumptuous dinner, arranged at tables in a big open "U", with my owner at the centre of the top table and another important-looking man sitting next to him. The guard made gestures at us to be silent, as in the centre of the "U", watched intently by the guests, two young men were giving a virtuoso demonstration of sex.
These performers were not very tall and heavily muscled as we were, but I suppose you could call them, if you wanted a convenient shorthand, "swimmers": lightly muscled, without a trace of fat of course, about five ten in height. Again, unlike us they had hair - maybe that was because they were evidently both natural blondes, and they had been allowed to keep their head hair long so that as they cavorted and performed in front of us it fell around their shoulders, trailed over each other, and generally made for additional interest. You could see, too, that they had hair in their pits and in their pubes, although this was not as whitely blond as their head hair, presumably because it did not get as much sun. Their balls were of course shaven, and as one was bent over the other, we could see that they were definitely very low-hanging. They must have been a few years younger than us - say nineteen - and they were fucking away with that kind of enthusiasm that only guys in their teens can still do.
We watched as one reached his climax and pulled out, and as they stood together for a moment we could see how alike they were - they must have been identical twins, as there's just no way that with all their hair and so on they could otherwise be so similar. They'd only paused for a few seconds, and then the second one began to fuck his brother, who had been fucking him such a short time before. Well, you know how difficult that is, don't you? I mean, it doesn't matter how aroused and hard you are when you're getting together with a guy, once he's fucked you, your erection just dies away, doesn't it? But this young guy seemed to be able to get it up and keep it up so that he could pound away at his brother just as his brother had such a short time before.
It was kind of artistic, I suppose - one of the brothers had his shoulders to the floor but his ass vertically in the air above that, keeping his balance with his outstretched arms. His brother could then stand upright to get at his ass - no kneeling or bended knees - and was vigorously fucking with straight legs. Actually, it gives the muscles a quite different "look" as he was going in and out, and all four of us nodded at each other and decided to give it a try that night.
Once the two men had finished here was a round of applause, and then a lull in the conversation made for a silence in the room. I heard the second important guy say something like "See, cousin... Didn't I tell you? Truly exquisite, don't you think? As an after dinner entertainment it was most erotic, but when you think that these two young men are brothers, brought up together, living together, and now having to have sex with each other for our amusement, it adds a new erotic dimension to it somehow, don't you think?"
Our owner looked at him, and in his strong, clear voice responded. "Quite so, cousin. As you say, quite remarkable as an erotic display, and my friends and I are most grateful to you for providing us with this after-dinner diversion. It certainly is true that the concept of two brothers performing sex together does indeed add that little extra frisson of excitement...."
"So you agree that I have done something unique, and thus are going to pay out on our bet...?"
"Patience, cousin! I know we agreed to the wager to see something exotic and different, but we have not had my offering yet."
"You couldn't possibly have something more exotic than identical twin brothers...."
"You are right of course, cousin, that the added dimension of the men's filial relationship does indeed make it much more exotic and interesting. And the two young men were, as you say, beautiful to watch both in terms of their bodies, and how they were using them. But I, too, had a similar idea....."
He clapped his hands, and the guard gestured at us to go out from behind the screen. We moved as a bunch to the centre of the banqueting hall, then, as we'd been taught, fell to our knees and pressed our foreheads to the floor in the ritual gesture of obedience to our master.
"You see, cousin", we heard him say as we knelt there, our asses in the air, knowing that most of the diners could see our dicks and balls hanging loose between our thighs "I too find the concept of sex between relation to be both exotic and erotic. Consequently I scoured the world to find these identical quads - rather better, and more rare, than even two sets of identical twins, don't you think?"
His tone changed, and he said "Rise, slaves!", and we got to our feet and stood there in front of the top table. We of course clasped our hands behind our necks in the "display" position that all slaves learn, as it forces your pecs up and out, shows your belly muscles to their best advantage and, if you thrust your hips forward, makes you dick display prominently, too.
"See, cousin - four identical men. And not only identical, but rather spectacular, don't you agree? Of course I was excited to see your two identical twins, but I think you'll agree that their bodies bear little comparison to these four? I suppose that your two have yet to mature fully - between nineteen and twenty two, which is what these men are, the body makes its final stage of growth to full maturity. And, of course, I have nourished and nurtured these four to enhance their natural characteristics to present these four perfect specimens we see today...."
"But cousin, no hair...."
"Quite. I wanted you to be able to see all their musculature, without hindrance. I wanted them to be totally exposed to you, so that you can inspect them and verify just how identical they are. They have been properly trained as sexual playthings, too, and I do so hate it when a pleasure slave gets my semen in his hairs, and that' s a further reason for the complete absence of adornment. Anyway, I'm sure you will agree, cousin, that if two identical twins were capable of winning our little wager, then four identical quads scoop the prize? "
"Well, cousin, I have to agree that, as sometimes happens, you have decisively won our wager. But we did bet on the most erotic entertainment - producing four quads is not in itself totally erotic - you may have found these men and paid them some staggering sum just to appear naked in front of us. Many twins and, indeed, many brothers, are used to being naked in front of each other. But being naked with a family member, and having sexual relations with them, are quite different things...."
"Indeed, cousin. But, as I explained, these four have been trained since I acquired them, as I intend them to take their place in my pleasure room. You can of course, as my guest, avail yourself of them whenever you wish. But the night is yet young, so perhaps a little demonstration of their abilities might amuse you...."
He clapped his hands again and we knew what was required of us. We began to explore each others bodies, kiss deeply, and then move on to even more intimate sexual displays. After we had each fucked another, we ended our "demonstration" by lying in a perfect square, our heads in a companion's crotch, licking and cleaning his dick and balls from his semen and his partner's sweat and ass juice. We had rapturous applause following our act, and as we stood in front of the top table, heads bowed in submission, I know we all felt secretly pleased at our owner's triumph.
Our owner and his cousin were clearly long-standing rivals and this appeared to be the latest in a long line of friendly wagers, and both men were laughing and smiling and joining in the applause. When it died away, our owner's cousin said "But the night is yet young and my twins have, I think, recovered - shall we see an exhibition now of your four and my two... Six men together is something I think we rarely see...."
And so that was the first time I was fucked by a man for display. I'd had my trainers and my "brothers", of course, but now I stood there, bent at the waist with my hands on one of my brother's hips to steady me and his dick in my mouth, as one of the two young blond twins pounded away at me whilst his brother fucked Ray - they kept "time" with each other, pushing in to us and pulling out in perfect unison. The four of us fucked them, as you might expect, and perhaps they were somewhat inexperienced as they cried out several times as our dicks went into them - although maybe it was because they were only used to each other, and the concept of taking another man's dick was alien to them.
They were nice lads, though. After the banquet, they were put into the same cell as us four top keep them safe for the night, and we had a lot of fun....."
THE BANKER
I really was inclined to doubt the slave's story. It just didn't seem credible that anyone could be fooled into thinking that four men could be identical quads when it was only a combination of physical training, tanning and shaving that had made very similar men into this foursome. But the slave assured me that his owner's cousin had carried out a minute and thorough inspection, and, he suggested, had "grilled" his twins the next day to see if anything had been said when all six were locked up together that night.
He'd remembered the threats of total punishment, he told me, and so all four of them had never said anything to the two young blond guys about their origins. "Anyway", he added, "with our dicks in their mouths and up their asses most of the night, there wasn't a lot of talking done."
Nevertheless, I remained sceptical, and as we talked on he became more and more voluble in expounding his point of view, and I told him he'd need to keep his opinions in check to avoid punishment from men less tolerant of un-slavelike behaviour than I was. He shrugged his shoulders and sort of grimaced, as much as to say "Believe what you like. That's the way it is." Had I not been so pleased with his performance that night, that very insolent gesture would have been sufficient to earn him a flogging.
I had further meetings with my host, the Sheikh, the next day, and in spite of the wonderful experience of the slave I knew that I ought to rest. So I made him turn over on to his side, "spooned" myself against his lovely muscled rear, put my arm over him and flattened my hand across his belly, and allowed myself to drift into sleep.
When I woke, I felt marvellously refreshed from my night's experiences and my morning erection was comfortably nestled in the slave's ass crack - a perfect way to start the day, I always think. I moved my hand down his belly, and a brief exploration showed me that he, too was erect. He now knew I was awake, and so gently turned to face me, smiling at me and wrapping his arms around me as he moved his thigh up between my legs in the way I have described to you that I like.
I didn't speak to him, but nudged gently at him to lie him on his back, raised his feet to his shoulders, and prepared to fuck him. He was so well trained that he at once gripped his ankles, and generally prepared himself, and I had one more bout of intense, pleasurable fucking, this time watching the man's face. He genuinely was enjoying my attentions, not "faking it" as I suppose a pleasure slave could.
Afterwards I fell forwards onto him, and he wrapped his arms and legs around me to hold me snugly in a gesture of affection that I don't think that slaves just "doing a job" would bother with.
"So, are all your 'brothers' like this? All such good fucks? All so much fun in bed?"
"Well, yes, sir. We're all good fucks. But 'fun' is in the mind of the other guy, sir: you'd have to make up your mind about that. Are you having fun now sir?"
"Oh yes, slave.... Assuredly I am. You're a great guy to be with...."
I leaned forward to kiss him, and he responded hungrily. I just couldn't resist going to playfully tweak his nipple, as I again wanted to feel his body buck under mine and his tongue spasm as he went through those automatic reactions he'd shown me earlier in the night.
But he just moaned! One of his hands came down on top of mine, and he kind of encouraged me to carry on playing with his tit! A horrible suspicion started to dawn on me.... I rolled off him, sat bolt upright, and commanded him to kneel in front of me and spread his ass cheeks. He had a different inventory number!
"Who are you?", I snapped. "I think the slave earlier tonight was called Steve. You're not Steve, are you?"
The man began to look alarmed. "Please, sir, please don't be angry with us. We meant well, sir. We wanted to amuse you, sir. You'd told Steve that you didn't believe anyone could be fooled by us being alike, but not identical, and we thought we'd play a little practical joke on you, sir. When you drifted off to sleep, I crept into the room and changed places with Steve. I'm his buddy Marc, sir."
I began to laugh at the deception these two had decided to play. "You're the Marc who always gets caned and tawsed more than the others, as you like to push things...."
"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir. Steve is lurking in the bathroom, sir, we can swap back...."
"Yes! Get in here, slave!"
The other slave came out of the bathroom, and he too was looking worried. He fell to his knees by the bed, and began to beg me to be merciful as they had meant no harm."
"Get in here, Steve!", I commanded him, and then had one of the most erotic experiences I have ever had - I was sandwiched between two handsome, muscled men, men of the kind I fantasise about. As I've told you, it's difficult for an older man like me, even though he's rich, intelligent and in fair shape, to get young studs to appreciate him. And now here I was, nestled between two of them, my arms around their necks, and one of my legs casually sprawled across one of their crotches.
"Right, you two... I'm not cross. It was a joke, after all. And it almost worked! If I hadn't discovered that Steve has unbelievably sensitive nipples...." As I spoke, I let my hand creep over Steve's pec, and I could feel the tension building in his body. Then my fingers darted to his nip, and he convulsed - throwing his hips in the air, and shouting "Please, no, sir..."
All three of us were helpless with laughter then as we lay there, and Marc said "So you found out his secret, sir... We all have a lot of fun pretending to go for Steve's nips. As you can see, they could exercise him without needing to make him run - they could just keep tweaking him, and his body would get all the exercise it needs!"
I'd have loved to stay in bed all morning with the two handsome men, but it was now dawn and I simply had to get up for my business meeting with the Sheikh. They stayed on to help me bathe, then actually shaved me as I lay on a chair in the big marble bathroom. As Steve (or was it Marc?) said, they were well used to using a razor on another man; and, indeed, I had one of the best shaves I've ever had. They helped me dress, too, and it felt odd to have another man knotting my Hermes tie so well; and it was especially erotic to be standing there, dressed, with these two naked hunks. Somehow the contrast between me in my lightweight silk business suit and them in their virile naked glory added to the whole experience in a way that was just different from myself being naked with them.
End Of Part Four