FULFILLING THE FANTASY IX
By Bill Smith (anonymous4371@juno.com)
The long trip to Nicaragua passed pleasantly enough, especially with John's scheduled visit of all our new stock smoothly coordinated by Tony, our Italian steward. There were numerous seminars, fabulous entertainments, and stimulating, interesting conversations with intelligent and experienced persons available at every meal.
The variety offered in our beds by our purchased slaves kept us from ever getting bored, but particularly memorable were the bodies we had most recently bought in Porte Alegre. There John had bought two 18-year-old very handsome white boys that were hung unusually large. Their special talent seemed to be in producing huge amounts of hot cum so tasty and smooth we often had them brought up special by Tony for a breakfast milking. Mark particularly enjoyed the 25-year-old Greek/Italian Argentine John had purchased there who was about as skillful in bed as any slave he had ever experienced, especially when it came to churning a very tight ass around an embedded penis until the user found himself in ecstasy. That same slave was one of the best when it gave to completely swallowing a big shaft well down his throat so his throat muscles could give the penis a real workout. Mark discovered the slave had previously been owned by a brothel in Buenos Aires where he was certainly well trained. Also outstanding were Mark's purchases of the unusual 17-year- old tobacco brown slave with blue eyes and blond air with the "star" brand on his inner thigh - proof he had been bred to order at the huge breeding farm they had visited. Both masters enjoyed his body so much they had Tony bring him up "extra schedule" to their suite at least every other day. Once he was leashed to their bed, it was hard not to fuck him at least once, no matter how busy they had been that day. But best of all were the bus driver and attendant they had purchased at the last minute in Porte Alegre. Both of these white slaves were magnificently built with very smooth skin showing well on their shaved bodies and brilliant green eyes heavily lashed. Both were very skilled in sucking, had the skill to prolong the sucking just as long as you wanted, and both seemed to really enjoy being fucked, invariably showing hard and dripping the entire time their masters were poking them. When questioned about their high skill levels in servicing their masters, both said most coach passengers in Brazil expected expert sexual services to be enthusiastically offered by the coach's staff and consequently they had been well trained in providing those services. On long bus trips, they reported, one was constantly fucked or was sucking off passengers while the other drove. When the attendant doing the servicing needed a break, he drove and the driver made the rounds servicing the passengers until his ass and jaw was sore. That's why motor coach companies bought their slaves on sexual appeal, not driving skills, which could always be taught later.
Even the dining slaves they leashed and brought down to their room proved delightful - frisky and enthusiastic no matter what the masters had in mind. They thoroughly enjoyed the relief from the dining service routine. The deck hands they leashed were equally satisfactory, although both John and Mark thought they sometimes tried too hard to please and hence were a little tiresome occasionally. It was obvious they were severely punished if any guest registered the slightest complaint with their usage and their overly solicitous behavior reflected that underlying fear of more punishment. Tony, ever alert, picked out several baggage slaves he thought we would enjoy, and he was right in every case. Baggage slaves, Tony explained, weren't used all that much, and since they were prohibited any source of sexual relief other than when they were used by one of the ship's passengers, were not only super eager to serve you any way you desired, but were extremely grateful for the opportunity. Tony, when his masters ordered him to do so for their entertainment, really enjoyed fucking the baggage slaves and pounded into them unmercifully no matter how they grunted and groaned under the assault. He had started out on the ship as a baggage slave and took a special interest in teaching them how to advance themselves in the world. He said he remembered the endless days as a baggage slave going up and down the hallways hearing all the other slaves getting fucked while he was never allowed any relief whatsoever. Tony always asked his masters' permission for the baggage slaves to be allowed to shoot off when he was ordered to fuck them and invariably, the permission was given in that both Mark and John delighted in seeing the huge volleys of cum shooting out of the baggage slaves' overstuffed balls and their looks of undying gratitude as they thanked their masters for the privilege.
By the time the ship was nearing Nicaragua, both John and Mark were completely satiated and felt a "rest" visiting the Nicaraguan sites would be in order. But both agreed that was part of what a good ocean voyage was all about - enjoying yourself to excess in something you were passionate about. In their case, they both agreed, their passion was fucking handsome male slaves. Judging from all the traffic of newly purchased slaves between the cargo holds and the ship's suites, the many dining room slaves being leashed at the end of every meal, as well as all the deck hand and baggage slaves we saw being brought by room stewards on leashes to their master's suite, it was obvious our passion was widely shared on this cruise at least.
As we left the ship at Leon, all passengers were handed a bright orange felt tip permanent ink marker they could clip to their shirt pockets.
"Use these at the slave markets for your purchases. Mark their bodies most anywhere you want with your room number, a "T" if you want all their teeth pulled and then fitted with dentures; for males, a "C" is you want their balls removed or an "R" if you simply want their penis ringed; and for females, another "T" on them if you want their tubes tied. Mark them with a "+" if you want the extra meal every day and the B-12 shots once they're in the hold.That way we can enter them in our records as they're transferred to the ship's hold and before that mark wears off their hide. We won't get around to filling all your requests for several weeks after we're at sea, but that way we can get started on it right away. Any special requests? Just write your instructions on the purchased slave's back and we're handle it to your complete satisfaction, I'm sure. All those abbreviations are printed right on the side of the marker in case you forget, or, if you prefer not to use the codes, just write it out on the slave's back. There's usually plenty of room."
The scene on the dock from the ship's deck was chaotic. Scrawny, emaciated persons were everywhere pleading to be bought and jostling for the best positions close to the departing passengers. Some were trying to display what they considered their best sales features: large, shapely breasts were hefted up and wiggled in your face; muscular chests and arms were flexed by the younger men;.a few young bucks with large organs were holding them up and waving them to try to get your attention; while thousands of older people and children were generally shoved to one side and often stomped on by the stronger competition all around them. Everyone was waving their hands or yelling loudly, desperately trying to get your attention. It seemed everyone had learned at the least the English phrases "Take Me, Master" or "Good Slave, Master" or "Free Slave Here, Master" which rose above the hubbub. But all the energy expended by the crowds did not hide their generally emaciated bodies, their sickly complexions, and the lack of much solid muscle on them. As the lecturer on the ship had described, they were obviously slowly starving to death.
All of the dealers ignored the entreaties of the unseemly mob and headed straight for the slave markets, located up and down the piers for at least eight blocks in gated facilities which kept the mobs at bay. All of the markets had huge fans in the ceiling for our comfort, plenty of guards to keep the crowds outside from climbing over their sturdy fences, and plenty of host slaves, costumed in quaint native costumes, serving complimentary cool drinks.
Mark and John choose to enter the fifth market down the street since the first four seemed to be already filled with the ship's passengers. A small brown-colored sales manager, dressed in a cool seersucker suit, greeted them pleasantly in accented English.
"Wide choice of select slaves, today, sir. Your ship wired ahead so we filled all our pens to offer you the best choices. You may look them all over first to see what we've got on hand or I can help you locate any special types of slaves you may be looking for. You can inspect any slave you want any way you want, of course, and," he paused and winked his eye suggestively, "if you want to try them out in private, we have nice, clean rooms just for that purpose. You'll find our prices as cheap as any other market here for comparable quality." He smiled and then sighed.. "The competition here is fierce - it forces all of us to keep our profits unbelievably low. You gentlemen primarily interested in male or female stock?"
"Male," John muttered.
"Excellent," the sales manager exclaimed. "We have a huge supply of interesting male stock right now. Any particular specifications - short, tall, light or dark skinned, fully mature and experienced or just developing? Unfortunately, almost all of the stock in Nicaragua is some shade of brown or black, almost all have straight black hair although a few have curly hair, and most have black eyes, with just a few having brown eyes. I haven't seen any blue or green-eyed slaves in several months now."
"We only interested in male slaves 18 to 25 years of age, preferably curly haired, and without too many permanent whip scars or brands on them. And we want bodies that are sturdy, disease- resistant, and show promise of filling out nicely if properly fed and exercised. We're not interested in breeding them, but overall, they should be as handsome as you've got. Forget all the slaves that aren't necessary ugly, but aren't good looking - especially in their faces."
"Ah!" the sales manager exclaimed. "You know exactly what you want! We call that type of slave 'show quality' slaves. They cost a bit more, but discriminating buyers are willing to pay that little bit extra for the quality. Right this way, gentlemen. We keep those slaves chained right up here in the front to attract customers, rather than in the pens where we keep most of them. That's what I meant by 'show' slaves. We literally 'show' them to attract customers."
The manager quickly led us to at least 50 male slaves all heavily shackled to sales displays by their neck collars (with their wrists shackled to the collar) and with their feet tightly fastened to the base of the display so they couldn't move no matter what was done to their bodies. John went down the line first, thoroughly fingering each slave from top to bottom as only an experienced dealer could do. His inspection checked out the hair quality and thickness, the shape of the ears, the texture and smoothness of the slave's skin, any imperfections on the slave's hide, the amount of musculature, the slave's tit development and sensitivity, the definition of the slave's chest, thigh, and butt muscles, the condition of his teeth, the roughness of the slave's tongue, the clearness of his eyes, the condition of his joints, especially his feet and hands, how quickly the slave's genitals responded appropriately to being fondled, the appearance of any pre-cum on the penis tip after a good stroking, how tight the slave's hole was as it responded to a two-fingered insertion and whether the slave's ass muscles appropriately contracted around those inserted fingers. My inspections were much more unprofessional. I stroked their cheeks to see how smooth their skin was, studied their eye lashes, tweaked their tits for quick arousal, and hefted and massaged their balls to see how they reacted. I also viewed them from several different angles to see if their body appeal was better front, back, or from the side.
"Some of these look promising," John said to the dealer. "How much are you asking for them?"
"Thirty-two dollars apiece for these 'show quality' boys, but I can knock off two dollars if you buy 20 or more. If that's too steep for you, we have plenty of other males in the pens within that same age range that I could sell you for $20 to $25 dollars dependent on their body condition. You're not going to find better prices anywhere up and down the street," the sales manager said pleasantly enough.
"The price is right, but I'd like to look around a bit before deciding. Two bucks a head off if I buy 20 or more?" John inquired.
"Yes, sir," the sales manager agreed. "Look around all you want - I doubt if the other dealers can stock any better than this meat in front of you. They might look a little scrawny now, but you can fatten them up easily enough if you fed them much of anything."
"You feeding them?" John asked.
"No, can't afford it at these prices. That's why they're so eager to get sold," the sales manager replied. "They're used to being hungry all the time - that's the main reason they are here, after all," he laughed.
"If that's the main reason, what are the other reasons?" John pursued the manager's train of thought.
"These guys think any life is better than the one they had. That's why they put on the collars themselves. They figure an owned property that someone actually pays money for is bound to be worth something - at least enough to keep it alive. That's more to look forward to than their life here. They never expect us to fed them here because we didn't pay anything for them - why would be fed them. They know we're aware they won't die right away anyway. But we do water them, and watch them carefully so they don't jerk off or fuck each other so they can show hard when they're handled. All these boys understand it's important to be able to show hard - they don't know why exactly, but they do know the ones that don't never get sold. I have a feeling they think the buyers are testing their ability to stud. But few buyers have that in mind for these boys - they're too small and puny to be good studs, even if they had enough food in them. Most of these slaves wouldn't believe the real studs they keep at the breeding farms in foreign countries. If they ever saw those guys, they'd know no one would ever buy them for studding who was in their right mind!" he laughed.
John was eager to look at stock in the other markets and I followed his lead when it came to buying expeditions. We visited every single market up and down the street before he returned to the first one we had gone to where he quickly bought the 20 'show' slaves he had already thoroughly inspected, thereby claiming the discount. All the slaves looked overjoyed when they saw him return to their line-up, knowing he intended to buy them this time around. 'Thank you, Master," "Gracious, Master," etc., rang out from each one of those selected as they all began to cry in sheer joy before the whip silenced them. But even the whip lashing into what little flesh remained on them couldn't prevent the looks of pure gratitude in their eyes for a purchaser who would buy their bodies. Mark thought to himself that John wasn't going to have much trouble acclimating these men to the role of slaves, no matter what he expected them to do. And it was obvious John was going to be able to sell them, properly fattened, for at least 50 times what he had paid for them.
As the sales manager delightedly filled out the ownership certificates and bills of sale, John took his felt-tip marker and started in on the chest of each slave with his room number and a "+", followed by a big "T" on every one of them; a "C" on about half of them with very small penises; and an "R" on those with better sized equipment. Twirling them around, he wrote "2" Rings on both Tits" on each of the 20 new purchases and then signed his name on the slave's back.
"Slaves like this sell better tit-ringed, Mark," he explained. "Besides, as they fill out with some food in them, their tits will tend to grow around the rings a little, adding to the look. If the customers I sell them to don't like it, I can have them removed without too much tearing of the flesh.
"John then returned to the line and singled out two of the smaller men who looked to be around 24 or 25 but had very good facial features. He had those two turn their backs to him once again and wrote "Fit with 2" nose ring to match tit rings" below his instructions to tit ring them. Again, he signed his name, but, running out of space, he did it on the slaves' butt.
When I laughed as he was signing his name on the rounded butt check, John chuckled. "Well, they said we could write our special instructions anywhere on their body."
John then scurried to another dealer on the strip and, with Mark close by him, again bought 30 more slaves, similar to the first twenty. Again all were marked with his room number and a "+", the "T", a "C" or "R" dependent on their organ size, and all were to be fitted with tit rings. Three of the smallest purchases had the special additional instruction to be fitted with a matching nose ring.
Well, that gives me 50 at the best prices I still find unbelievable," John said with considerable satisfaction at the success of his buying ventures in Nicaragua. "Do you think, Mark, the ship will have room for all the buying going on today?"
"Five thousand is an awful lot of cages," Mark reminded him. "I doubt everyone on board bought 50 of these types of slaves anyway. They sure are scrawny looking, especially compared to what we saw most anywhere else we've been. You can count the ribs on all of them."
"Yeah, but they cost next to nothing, and most of them will fill out a little with some good slave chow in them. At least, you probably won't be able to count their ribs," he laughed, "especially with the B-12 shots and extra rations I ordered for them. Did you see anything that interested you, Mark?" John asked.
"Not really," Mark replied and then hesitated, "Well, possibly one back at that other dealers."
"Let's have a look see," John said, caught up in a buying fever.
The new friends went back to the first dealer they had visited and, chained over in corner near the entrance, was a nut brown boy, no more than 18 or so, who was unblemished, but had a hollowed face highlighting high cheek bones and big round brown eyes. His body was naturally hairless, but the hair on his head, although jet black, was fine rather than course like most of the Nicaraguan slaves for sale. Although he too looked starved with deeply exposed ribs and a butt that was little more than bone, he did feature an unusually large penis - very thick and long compared to anything around him - above balls that hung close to the body rather than hanging low between his legs like his colleagues in chains.
"Look him over for me, would you, John?" Mark asked the professional dealer.
"Sure," John said as he began a thorough examination of every aspect and opening of the slave's body. When John reached the large penis and began manipulating it to an erection, the slave smiled and began bucking a little in John's hand. But when John stuck his finger up the slave's asshole, the slave jerked and twisted in his chains, obviously not liking what was being done to him but knowing he could do nothing about it. By the time John determinedly got his finger all the way up the bony butthole, the boy moaned but settled down.
"How much?" John asked the sales manager.
"Thirty bucks even because of the big prick," came the answer.
Mark looked at John who nodded his ascent as he continued stroking the boy's shaft.
"I'll take him," Mark told the sales manager as he peeled off three $10 bills, preferring to use pocket money for anything costing that little.
"It'll take just a moment for me to make out an ownership certificate and fill out a bill of sale," the sales manager said, delighted another sale, however small, had been made.
The slave, realizing someone had bought him, burst into tears of elation and said the only English word he knew: "Master, Master" obviously meant to thank the person who had bought him.
"You want to see him cum?" John asked, still stroking him vigorously.
"Not now, John," Mark replied whereupon John released his grip on the boy's shaft who look frustrated as his erect penis wobbled around in the air.
Mark took out his felt-tip marker and wrote his room number on the sunken chest of the starved boy. Then he wrote a "+" and a "T". Then he turned the boy around and wrote on his back: "Install 1" band around base of genitals - want slave to protrude for good display" and signed his name.
"Going to band the bastard rather than castrate or ring him?" John frowned. "That's not going to keep him from knocking something up if he gets that thing in the right hole. You'll be better off having those balls cut off, Mark, rather than hefting them up for the whole world to see all the time."
"Oh, hell, John," Mark retorted. "Who's he going to knock up stuffed in a separate cage except when he's entertaining his masters. The only women on that ship are all caged themselves and never let out without supervision. Besides, I'm buying him as a sex slave, not a labor slave or a domestic slave. And I like the looks of him just the way he is, especially if we heft it up so its easy to handle. Do you think he'll fill out with the B-12 shots and extra feed? Right now he looks about three days from death."
"He'll fill out better than most of them," John replied. "He's so young he's probably even got some growth in him if he had anything to grow on in his stomach. For $30 you can't miss. If you don't like him when we get home, I'll buy him off of you for at least $300, so you can't really lose."
"You're a pal, John," Mark said sincerely. "Just for that, I'll let you fuck him all you want once we get some meat on that butt so pounding him won't hurt us with those sharp flanks sticking out." He looked at the slave's face again and suddenly turned the slave around again to mark on his back some more. "How big was that nose ring you ordered on some of your purchases, John?"
"A two-inch ring," John replied. "Why? Don't' tell me, the old conservative is going to have this boy's nose ringed?" John laughed.
"Yes. I think it will be fun to led him around my estate with a nose leash. Besides, you can always fasten their nose ring to the wall and fuck them silly. According to Tony, that's how those slave handlers are training those 'brute' slaves to take a good fucking. They just hook their nose ring to the wall and go up them. Tony says slaves fastened like that can't do a thing but grin and bear it, no matter how big the prick or dildo going up them. I noticed he didn't like your finger going up his butt so I'll need to use a big butt plug until he gets used to having his ass used regularly. A nose ring hooking him to the wall will make it easy to jam a really big butt plug up him each and every day until he's learned to like being plugged.. Besides, it'll give him a different look, especially since he'll also be banded."
"One thing's for sure," John laughed. "That boy's sure going to learn what control is all about - both those fittings are what they use on rogue slaves that have to be broken. People looking at your new slave will think he was a real tiger when you bought him and you had to break him to accept his slavery. Look at this boy crying he's so happy someone bought him. What a joke! He's about as far from a damn rouge as anyone could imagine."
When they returned to the dock for reboarding, chaos abounded. The crowds of scum begging to be bought had never left, but this crowd of trash goods seem, if anything, to have grown now that they realized their last chance for being bought today was going to leave in a few minutes. But the real chaos were all the collared slaves being walked in long coffles to the cargo master, all with their naked bodies covered in orange felt-tip markings. There were so many of them it was obviously going to take hours and hours, standing in the glaring sun, for all of them to be loaded, identified and securely caged. Most of them were smiling, looking forward to being fed - anything at this point. The crowds around, envious, were yelling their congratulations at the chained slaves. One mother in the crowd broke into tears of pure joy when she saw her oldest child, collared and chained with strange markings all over his naked body, had obviously been sold and was about to be loaded onto the luxurious ship which no doubt had food on it. Although she knew she'd soon be dead, her oldest, at least, had a chance to live. She could die happy, she decided. At least one of her children would survive. Mark, who happened to have bought her son, would never realize he was the reason she was so happy. Likewise, the mother celebrating the sale would never know her handsome son would soon have a ring through his nose, a thick band wrapped around his genitals lifting them up to an obscene display, and a huge plug forced up his butt making him walk on his toes until his ass was nicely stretched for regular use.
Mark and John were tired. Tomorrow they would take tenders off the ship for their sightseeing tours of this country and they needed to rest up. They quickly boarded the ship, turning in the felt-tip marker at the end of the gangplank. The crew was collecting them to use at another port where they might be needed. By the time they reached their suite, Tony was waiting for them with a welcoming smile. In their absence, he had cleaned the suite to perfection, changed the bed linen and bath towels, and now had cool glasses of iced tea awaiting their return.
"Interesting place, Nicagarua," Mark said as he gazed out the window at the bedlam on the dock below with the long line of sold slaves patiently waiting for processing. Could you believe those prices?"
"No. Unbelievable. I feel at those prices I should storm right back down that gangplank and buy up 50 more."
"Our trips just half over, John. Control yourself. You can only take home so many goodies, you know. Even with what you've already got, you're going to be a mighty rich man once you get home and begin selling some of that stock off."
"Yes, Yes," John smiled. "Not as rich as you, you bastard, but still, well-heeled shall we say."
"Beat's being well-ringed liked those boys will be you bought today," Mark smiled as John crackled up with laughter.
TO BE CONTINUED
Your feedback and comments are always appreciated. Bill Smith (anonymous4371@juno.com)