HARBOUR MASTER, Part 20
By Pete Brown petebrownuk @ yahoo.com
Read all of Pete's stories at groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories
Later that afternoon as we lay there comfortably in each others arms, our legs twined together and our dicks touching, Matt suddenly said "Steve, can I ask you a big favour?"
I was in a good mood, as after bit of sleep (I'd secured one of Matt's wrists to the bedhead, though, just to make sure there was no escape attempt), and some quite enjoyable mutual caressing, kissing and jerking off, I was very relaxed and in that happy state you often get in when you're in bed with a nice body and you've shot a load.
"Ask away, Matt - although I won't necessarily do it!"
"Look, I'm worried about Bill. All he'll know is that we've both disappeared. He'll probably have heard that the doctor was attacked.... He won't know it was you, and may think that some pervert went around the place, maiming and even killing guys.... He might think I'm dead... He'll be worried out of his mind. Can we at least call him, and tell him we're OK?"
I could see the logic of his thoughts, and I didn't want Bill to suffer as a result of Matt's callous treatment of me.
"Look, Matt, I'd let you do that, but I'm concerned that they may be tracing the calls - I'll think about it, but they're pretty sophisticated at tracking down where calls come from. Even if we use a cell phone, they can locate the cell it's in. So I may have to say 'no',"
"Please... "
"Look, I've told you I'll try. I like Bill too, you know. He always treated me like a man, not a slave. And I don't want him to worry. I'll think about it. Anyway, we've been here long enough - time for some exercise for you."
I undid his wrist from the bedhead, but in spite of our bout of pleasurable mutual sex, I was still concerned about whether he'd really accepted slavery yet. So I cuffed his hands behind his neck again - with only one free at a time, I wasn't particularly worried about him trying to break away. Then I undid his leg restraint, pulled on my shorts and a T, and told him to follow me outside.
The pool looked really inviting under the hot sun. There were a few folks sitting around the poolside, so I asked them if they'd mind if I exercised my slave. "If any of you folks are planning to take a dip in the next half an hour or so, I'll keep him out of the water, of course", I told them.
Most of them just shrugged, but a couple of fairly good looking guys said "Hell, no. It will be a real pleasure to see a stud like that swimming - it really shows off the body, doesn't it? And do you swim him nude, as well as making him walk around like that?"
"Yes. No point in stupid swimming costumes for slaves."
The two guys were wearing really brief bikinis themselves, and looked rather wistful, and told me "Yes, there's some things that slaves can do that us free guys can't. We've got to have these stupid things on, holding our balls and dicks in, instead of being able to enjoy the water properly! Still, that's one of the penalties of being free, I suppose. Do you exercise him yourself? I'd imagine it would be good to be in the water with him."
Actually, I wanted to throw myself into the sparkling water, but to do so I'd have to take off my T and my shorts... And my tattoo, and brand, would be a real give away.
"Yes, I normally use him to pace me - or rather, I pace him, as I'm fitter than he is. He has to make a real effort, though, else he knows I'll punish him if he finishes too far behind. But I've pulled a muscle, so I'm laying off for a week or so, so he's got to swim by himself."
I went up to Matt and undid just one of his wrists from his collar. "OK Matt, now you're going to do ten lengths like this, then you can get out, and I'll uncuff the other wrist and cuff this one, then you'll do ten more. And we'll go on like that until I'm satisfied you've really had a good work out."
"But Steve, boss... I can't swim with only arm."
"Yes you can. You'll have to work a lot harder, but that's all to the good. And, you know, swimming in this pool is not as hard as swimming across a lake with a lot of chain around your neck.... Or would you rather we did that? Both arms free, but a big weight around your neck?"
Matt looked a bit sheepish, as I suppose he could remember the incident at the lake, and ran across to the pool and jumped in. It was indeed good to watch him working - it was tough for him, I know, and by about the third "leg" he was visibly tiring. I sat and chatted to the two guys in the bikini costumes, and we discussed the way Matt's muscles rippled as he raced along. Occasionally we would agree that he seemed to be flagging, and I then stood on the edge of the pool waving my prod at him - I think he knew I wouldn't seriously prod him in those circumstances, but it was a good reminder to him.
I think that if I'd been more experienced, I'd have picked up on the signals that the two young guys were sending me. Looking back on it, I think they were lovers who were looking for a third - or, possibly, even a fourth, if you counted Matt, for an evening's entertainment. But at that time I wasn't sophisticated enough to know the signals guys send you when they're interested in you, and I wasn't sure what to do about it anyway! It's one thing to fuck a slave who you control, or a guy like Bill who wanted to be fucked, but I wasn't certain how to behave when guys were freely entering into an arrangement with each other as these two probably were.
They both had erections when Matt came out of the water and stood in front of me for the last time. He was breathing so heavily and looked so tired out that I decided to let him rest, and told him he could lie by the pool. I had to cuff both his arms, of course, but he lay there on the warm concrete, the water evaporating from his body, looking reasonably content.
The two guys continued to stare at him as he lay there - as he drifted into that half doze we all do when we've been exercising and it's a hot afternoon, Matt gradually grew one of his magnificent erections. I don't think he was aware of it at all, as he was dozing, but the two men stared at it with fascination.
"That's one magnificent stud of a slave you've got there", I was told, and I agreed. "I bet his ass is tight, too, with all that muscle around! He must be one great fuck - or do you allow him to swing both ways?" I could see they were interested, but there was nothing much I could do about it and so I kind of closed off the conversation. If only I could have taken my own clothes off I'd have been there in the pool, and then, who knows what might have happened? As it was, it was Matt who had the freedom, and I was constrained by my tattoos and brand.
Matt behaved so well for the rest of the afternoon that when I went out to dinner that night I didn't make him stand outside the restaurant for the patrons to gawk at. Instead, I gagged him and chained him to the bed, then unplugged the phone "just in case", and went out.
I got chatting to a truck driver in the diner, and saw him using his cell phone. I asked if I could borrow it, and offered to pay for the call, but he said his company picked up the bill and who gave a fuck! So I called Bill's private number - his rich mom gave him a private line, Matt had told me.
Fortunately he was there, and he picked up straight away. I told him briefly what had happened, and that he shouldn't worry about his dad.
"It's you I was worried about, Steve!", he said. "After what dad did to you, and was going to do to you, I'm not sure I give a flying fuck what happens to him!"
Of course I told him not to be so stupid, as a man needs a father, and he said he wanted to come and see us. I explained my fears about calls being traced and so on, and that making arrangements like this just wasn't practicable. But he insisted, and, somewhat against my better judgement I said that he could come and see us - but that he'd have to wait for another call. With that, I rang off, and thanked the truck driver. As I saw him drive off into the night I knew he'd be difficult to trace, and probably wouldn't remember where he had used his phone to call Bill's number in the City.
I took Matt the remains of my dinner home - I always wondered what people did with those "doggy bags" - and he ate it with relish: he'd been good all afternoon, so I was subtly rewarding him by feeding him to take the edge off his hunger. Matt was good in bed that night, too, and I think the "buddy" thing may have been starting to work. It was good to have a nice hard body to explore again, and the two of us did all those things - apart from fucking - that good friends do with each other in bed. Of course I had to chain one of his arms and one of his legs to the bed in case it was just an act and he was only waiting for me to sleep before trying to escape, but I did let him choose which hand to manacle. And in the morning, he accepted bathing in my piss-stained bath water without a murmur - I'm sure he was beginning to realise that there were far worse alternatives that I could subject him to.
We drove on across country, heading West, all day, and I let Matt ride up front with me again, ungagged, although I chained one of his ankles to the seat so he couldn't run off. And I now wore the handy holster that came with the slave prod, so he knew it was always "to hand" on those occasions we stopped for gas and so on. When I was driving, so my back was hidden, I even had my shirt off to enjoy the hot, dry air, and to anyone looking in we must have looked like two workmen, or two friends, just driving along with our shirts off. Only the odd truck driver, perched high above us, could see that one of the two men was completely naked and thus a slave.
On the road like this there weren't too many opportunities to teach Matt more about the practice of slavery, except when I stopped for a piss. It would have been easier to let Matt simply piss in the trees at the side of rest areas - I'd noticed a number of slaves doing this - but I wanted Matt to really feel the humiliation of having to do his business in public. So when it was time for a piss break I always cuffed both hands behind his neck and insisted he went into the slave rest room. I know Matt hated having to piss in front of the women slaves who always seemed to be in there - even women slaves seemed to take longer in rest rooms than men slaves, just as free women take longer than free men. And, of course, inevitably, he needed to crap on occasions.
You'll all be familiar with the idea of the crap hole for slaves - it's so practicable and hygienic. By making the slave squat right down over the hole, and by having him pull his ass cheeks wide apart as he craps, there's almost no mess - especially when all the hair has been removed from his ass crack. But Matt couldn't pull his cheeks apart, as he was cuffed.
He was about to go into the rest room when, flushing with embarrassment, he pointed this out to me. I certainly didn't want Matt's crap stinking up the cab, or even staining the seat, so I simply tossed a quarter to the slave who was in charge of keeping the facilities clean generally. And as part of his duties he cleaned Matt when Matt had finished. I just stood there and watched as the slave told Matt to bend over, then used his wash cloth, which he'd been using to clean the urinals in the "free men's" room to wipe Matt's ass, then sluiced some fresh water at him from his bucket. Poor Matt - as we walked back towards the truck, the water still dripping on his legs, he looked the picture of misery - I don't think he'd ever imagined he might have his ass wiped in so public a manner!
Escaping slaves was such an unusual occurrence - much more so than murder, it seemed - that we'd made the news headlines on CNN on the first couple of days after my escape. But, like all stories when nothing's happening, we soon dropped out of the public's attention and I judged that the police had probably lost interest in us as well. At least, I didn't think there'd be frantic efforts to find us now, and I judged it safe to call Bill again. But I was still cautious, and bought a cheap cell phone from a gas station. After I'd called Bill and made arrangements to meet, I tossed it into the back of a passing truck, still switched on: if the police did then triangulate to find the cell the phone was in, they'd be led way off course.
I'd emphasised to Bill that he was to come in great secrecy, and not to buy an airline ticket as they were too easy to trace. He journeyed on Amtrak, then on the bus, and I'd told him always to pay cash, and never to use his credit card. I hadn't told Matt why we chose to stop in the small town in Arizona we were in, but for several days we holed up in a small motel, and I carried on with my programme of rewarding Matt when he was "good", punishing him on those rare occasions when he displeased me, and exercising him hard! As a variation on keeping one hand cuffed to his collar whilst swimming, I sometimes let him use both arms but then manacled his ankles closely together so he couldn't kick well - I wanted him to really exercise all his muscles.
Every afternoon, though, I chained Matt to the bed, gagged, for a couple of hours. He thought this was to allow him to rest, but I used the opportunity to go to the town's tattoo parlour. At first, the owner was doubtful that his laser tattoo remover would work on the amount of stuff across my back, and he told me that it would anyway be extremely painful - the laser is meant to burn up fine lines of tattoo, vaporising the ink that then puffs out of the skin. I had big solid blocks of ink, and the guy told me it would not be completely successful, and the vaporising ink would hurt like hell! That's why I limited myself to a couple of hours - that's about all I could bear at one time.
I didn't tell Matt about any of this - it was none of his business, after all. Our fun in bed had gradually got more intense, and I'd started to fuck him again once his ass was properly healed, but I now always wore a T so he couldn't see my back. It was tough, sometimes, of course, as when Matt hugged me at some intense moments, I wanted to shout with the pain as his arms pressed into my back. I also think he wondered why I now no longer let him in to watch me bathe, and only called him in to use my water when I had dried myself and was dressed in my T again - although he knew I wasn't shy, as my dick and balls hung down below the hem of the T.
Although I was never as violent as I had been when I'd taken him "dry", I always pounded Matt extremely hard, both because it satisfied my own lust - I always got slightly out of control as soon as I started - and because it emphasised to Matt his new status. I usually cuffed his wrists to the head of the bed, but allowed him sufficient slack so that he could grab and hold his own ankles - I needed to fuck him on his back as I wanted maximum exposure to his ass, and to be able to plunge my dick in to its full extend with as little impediment from his ass cheeks as possible. Sometimes I jerked him off before fucking him, and sometimes I sat in the armchair and watched him do it himself - I think it's a lot more humiliating for the guy to be made to jerk himself, then lube his own ass:
gradually, therefore, I tended to make him do this more and more often. I don't know whether Matt, he who had boasted of never taking it up the ass, really adjusted to this constant fucking, and, frankly, I didn't care. Occasionally he'd try to push his dick towards my hole when we were writhing around together as "buddies" before serious fucking, but I found I only had to tell him to stop, and he did so at once.
It was good to have a slave, I discovered, when you're on the road - as well as having someone to play with in bed, and to fuck whenever I wanted, Matt neatly solved the problem of laundry - every night he had to wash my shorts and the T I'd been wearing that day, and it gave me a certain feeling of power to see the big man standing at the sink in the bathroom, naked, rubbing away at the fabric of my clothes. In many ways seeing the movement in his back, thighs and ass as he scrubbed away at them was almost as erotic as seeing the way he moved when he had been fucking the female slave: I knew that in both cases he was only doing it as I had ordered it, and I revelled in my power over him.
Bill's arrival was a complete surprise to Matt. I was exercising Matt when Bill appeared, and so at the end of one of his "sets", there he was, in front of his father.
"Bill!", Matt shouted in joy, and went towards his son. I was expecting this, and had my prod out of its holster, ready.
"You've got another three sets to do, slave!", I commanded. "Now, get back in the pool, whilst us free men catch up on old times."
Not even allowing Matt to touch his son after their separation was a particularly interesting method of showing my power over him, and I chatted to Bill in one of the pool-side loungers as Matt desperately raced up and down the pool, so eager to finish his "set". And I continued this method of control when he'd finished swimming, too - I took Matt back to the room, chained him to the bed, gagged him, and went out, leaving the "do not disturb" sign on the door.
Even though we only had a light lunch, I deliberately kept Bill out all afternoon - we did a bit of sightseeing - so that Matt would worry about what was happening. Then I got Bill a separate room, so I could go back alone to Matt. As I went in to our room, he looked at me, pleadingly, and mumbled something through his gag.
"Shut up, Matt! You know I don't like hearing those noises through your gag. Wait until I ungag you, probably later, if there's something you want to ask me. I then went about my usual evening routine, before telling Matt I was as usual going out to dinner and that as he'd been good that day, he could expect a doggy bag when I got back. The poor guy was stridently mumbling as I went out of the door, but I deliberately didn't look back at him. Bill and I ate dinner, very demurely, really, then I went back to his room with him.
As soon as the door was shut Billy grabbed me and started to try to kiss me passionately. I responded a bit, meaning to be somewhat distant, but as the lad continued to hug me, kiss me, and grope at my balls in a frenzy of passion, I found I couldn't resist him. Very gently I pushed him back on to the bed, then opened his shirt, undid his belt, pushed his jeans down, dropped my own shorts, and pulled my T over my head, and lowered myself on top of him so that our bodies were in contact all along, and I could feel his youthful firmness under me.
"So, Bill. Do I take it you want a good fucking?"
"Oh Steve, yes.... "
"Loo, you've been back in the city - what's wrong with all the guys there - surely you could have found some to come and 'play' with you!"
"I tried, Steve, but it wasn't any good. All the guys at school were just immature compared with you - sure, they were ready to fuck but they all shot so soon, and none of them had your technique. And I tried advertising for older guys on the message boards, but none of them turned me on like you do - they just didn't have the bodies, the power, the.... the dick that you have! I really miss you, and dad, and it's not been any good since I left and went back."
"So you haven't had sex since then?"
"Well, not good sex. Sure, I've had a few guys fucking me, and I've tried it myself, several times. But it's not the same. And I thought I ought to use condoms, and it was vile - no sensation at all, none of that lovely warm, intense feeling I get from you and dad..."
"So shut up, Bill - I think you've waited long enough."
I jerked him off, enjoying the extreme hardness of his young dick, and especially the feeling of his 'skin as I slid it on and off his dick head. It really made me miss mine - jerking off just hadn't been as much fun since I was forcibly 'skinned. Then I took a long time to massage his hole, turning it into a part of our sex play. He was moaning with pleasure even before my hot dick head touched his hole, and when I pushed it in, his cries of sheer delight made me a bit worried - I didn't want the people in the next room to hear! It was difficult, of course, to restrain myself, but I didn't want to frighten Bill off, and so I did my very best to fuck him slowly and lovingly, watching his face to see how he was reacting to the motion of my dick, and timing my performance to give him the maximum pleasure. But it's no good, is it? A man can't be like that for an entire session, and towards the end I was just a bit rough as I really plunged in to him to give myself the reward I deserved, and shoot a huge load of cum up him.
"So, how was that, Bill? Worth waiting for?"
Bill didn't answer - he seemed too overcome with emotion, and just lay there, his arms wrapped tightly around me, snuggling his head into that comfortable space between my neck, tit and pit as I lay on my side. I let him lie like this for some time, then started to tell him about our adventures, and how I was paying back Matt for all that he'd done to me.
"It 's not that I particularly minded being a slave", I explained, "I was, after all, guilty, and sentenced.
But I worked really hard for Matt - I did a good job, and put all I had in to it. If he'd treated me right, and acted as a just master to me, none of this would have happened. But first he had me tattooed, then he had me 'skinned and tattooed - and you know that he was going to get that doctor to 'slice' me, as they say, to take my dick off. And that's not to mention the castration. No slave ought to be treated like that, and I had to do something."
"I agree", Bill said. "But you know, in law Matt had a right to do all those things, as you were only a slave: if a master wants you 'skinned, then you lose your 'skin. You can't really say 'if he had only treated me right...' - he was treating you right, as a master can treat a slave, if he wants to. But a lot of us younger guys think that the slavery laws are all wrong - of course it's OK to enslave criminals, but they ought to have some rights. Matt shouldn't have been allowed to even think about having you 'sliced' without getting a court order, and having to say why it was necessary. I don't know how you're ever going to make dad pay you back for what he did....."
Then he continued, in a quieter voice "Steve.... You're not going to 'slice' dad, are you.... Or have him castrated.....? It's just that I hope, well, I hope you'll let him fuck me again one day when you've finished really punishing him. He is my dad, you know."
"Don't worry, Bill. I'm not so cruel as that doctor, and there's no way I'd 'slice' or castrate a slave. Matt was just foolish to go along with him, agreeing to all that shit just because he was worried about his business. He deserves to be punished, and serving me for the rest of his life might just do it. But I don't know I'm going to let him fuck you, Bill: part of his punishment is that he now is the taker of men's dicks, and I might choose to never let him use his dick for fucking ever again."
Bill was silent for a few moments, then went on "Steve, let me come and live with you."
"Don't be so stupid, Matt - you've got to finish school, go to college.... All that stuff"
"But I want to live with you and dad. That time at Seatown was the best I've ever spent - two guys who really love me, and who I love.... I want that, and don't give a shit about school and everything."
"No, Bill - you've got to complete your education, then I'll think about it. Look, your mom's a successful lawyer, and you've always grown up having everything. You can't imagine what it's like to have to do 'blue collar' jobs for the rest of your life - sure, it was OK for your dad, as he WANTED to do them, and he had a choice. But I had no choice - I had to work my but off at labouring jobs, and I don't want you to end up like that. No, Bill - it's back to your mom's after this visit, then finish school and college, and then I'll think about letting you come and live with Matt and me."
"Now", I went on, "I'm going to let Matt see you tomorrow, but you must be firm: I'm going to leave you alone with him, and he's going to want to fuck you - he's not had his dick up an ass since you left, and I know that you and he used to be lovers. I'm going to keep him partially chained to the bed, and, even though I know you don't much like fucking, you've got to promise me you'll fuck him, OK? It's all for his own good - he started off by fucking me, even though I hated it, and now it's me who fucks him regularly. I want to reinforce this by making him see that the other person he regularly fucked is now fucking him. So you can touch him, kiss him, fondle him, jerk him off, do anything you both like together - but if there's any fucking, it's your dick up him, not his up your ass, is that clear?"
"Yes, Steve. I don't like fucking much, and I really like a man like you to use my ass, but as it's in dad's best interests, I'll do as you say."
Although Bill wanted to snuggle up to me and spend the night, I explained to him that I needed to continue training Matt, and at about 11 I went back to our room.
Matt grunted and tried to question me as I went in, and I snapped "Look, you fucking slave, how many more times do I have to tell you? I don't like to hear all that crap coming from your gag. Wait until I take it out, then ask me whatever questions you have, if I agree."
I knew he was desperate for news about Bill, but I studiously avoided any reference to him as I got ready for bed, and I went through the now-normal nightly process of jerking Matt off, lubing him, and fucking him - although it was a bit of a strain, having had his son so recently. I slept with my arm around him, my dick nestling in his ass crack as I like, but I didn't get all that much sleep - Matt was clearly deeply disturbed, and so didn't sleep well, and the constant movement he made with his body caused me to have an upset night as well. So I was in a bad mood the next morning, and was quite stern with him when I unchained him and told him to go and bath. "And be sure to shave yourself", I snapped. "I'm sure I felt some stubble up your crack last night, and I don't want my sensitive dick to get sore!"
He still couldn't speak, and it wasn't until I took him out to the pool for his morning workout that I finally took his gag out. As soon as I did, he started "Please, boss.... "
"Shut the fuck up. And get into that pool. You know the routine by now!"
"But please, boss, where's B....."
"Slave, do you want to feel the prod again? Now, get into that fucking pool, and get started!"
Just after he'd begun, Bill came out to join me dressed in tiny Speedos, and sat watching Matt work out. During a change in cuffing between sets, he of course saw Bill, and was desperate to go over and speak, but I again waved my prod at him and made him continue the exercises. And when he'd finished, he still couldn't speak to Bill as I'd told Bill to go and swim as soon as his father had finished. I led Matt back in to our room, and chained him to the bed, and he looked out of the window to see Bill climbing out of the pool with all the lithe muscular grace that his lean body possessed.
"Please, boss.... Please..."
"Yes, slave?"
""Please let me go and speak to Bill."
"Who?"
"My son, Bill..."
"Matt, you're a slave. You no longer have a son. All family ties are automatically dissolved on enslavement! I lost my wife and kids when I was enslaved, and you'd better reconcile yourself to no longer having a son. A slave has his owner, his master, and must focus all his attention on that man - it's just not appropriate for a slave to need any other form of relationship."
"Please, boss, please...."
"I might consider allowing you to meet a free man I met by the pool today. He was interested in your body, and expressed a desire to fuck you. But I think all the previous times you went to bed with him, you fucked him. It was at that time when you used to boast that you never took it up the ass, and only gave it. I'm prepared to allow you to meet him, no, to spend the night with him, but you are not to fuck him - I will decide if you're ever going to be allowed to fuck again, and it's not now. And, of course, if he wants to fuck you, your ass must be as open to him a it is to me - I have given him permission to use your hole, and I expect complete obedience. Is that clear?"
"Yes, boss, if I agree, can I see..."
"IF you agree? What's to agree? You're a slave, and I'm your owner and have told you how you are going to act. You neither agree nor disagree - you obey! I'd advise you to shut the fuck up, before I change my mind."
Matt just stood there, and I think my words had got through! I picked up the phone and dialled Bill's room, and he came bounding in. The reunion between father and son was touching, I suppose. And I think Matt thought that I was going to leave them alone - but who'd want to give up the pleasure of seeing a lithe young stud fuck a strong muscular ass, especially when it's his dad's? And, later, I couldn't of course resist joining in - well, who wouldn't? It was quite like "old times", as all three of us rolled around in the big motel bed.
Poor Matt, though - last time it had been like this he'd fucked Bill and me, and now we both took it in turns to plough his ass. Bill tried to keep his part of the bargain, even though he wasn't doing it as enthusiastically as I was, but he did put a brave face on it: he even suggested to me, loud enough for Matt to hear, that we both fucked Matt at the same time. He'd seen pictures of two dicks up one hole, and thought it would be really sexy to have my dick pressed tight against his, held together by the muscles of Matt's sphincter! It was an interesting idea, and I filed it away for future reference, but instead went and sat in the chair to watch him as he again went hard into Matt.
I did allow them some private time together the following morning, then insisted that Bill left and went back to his mom - I pointed out to him that the police would redouble their efforts to find us if he left without her permission, and he saw the sense of this.
Matt and I didn't move on for two more days, whilst the tattooist got rid of the last of the words from my back. My back was still a mess, though, and you could still make the letters out as the skin was a slightly different colour still, and the tattooist said he thought it would not get better, even if I tanned deeply. We thought on, and I submitted to further sessions and had a huge, "primitive" tattoo made all over my back.
Matt was very surprised when I peeled off my T the next morning a the start of "exercises" and said I was going to swim against him, so he'd better be on top form! Provided I wore "boxer" type swimming shorts, and not a Speedo, my tattoo was covered and so I looked like a normal freeman frolicking with his slave.
End Of Part 20