AN AUTHOR'S NOTE - CONTINUED (HARBOUR MASTER, Part 24)
By Pete Brown petebrownuk @ yahoo.com
Read all of Pete's stories at groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories
That night he was in a better mood, and I ordered the slaves to go into the slave quarters early, so it was just Steve and me alone in the bedroom.
He went to call for one of the slaves to turn down the bed, but I snapped "No, Steve, it's just you and me tonight."
"What do you mean?"
"We need to work things out, and I don't want those slaves of yours disturbing us. I can't ignore their presence. You think you can, but all the time you're watching them - and not because you fancy their bodies, great though they are: I didn't know there were so many unbelievably sexy slaves around - but because you're looking to make sure they don't make mistakes. You're so desperately trying to exercise your control that it makes you less able to focus on the important things."
"Fucking amateur psychologist!"
"Shut the fuck up, Steve.... SLAVE!"
I raised my voice deliberately, and he went rigid with surprise. "Don't dare criticise a free man, SLAVE! Now, strip, as I want to fuck you. Get out of those clothes, kneel in front of me, and wank yourself whilst I watch you: you'd better try to produce a good load of spunk, as I'm going to fuck you hard, and that ass of yours isn't used to taking a free man's cock. If there's not enough lube, it will hurt you, not me."
He just stood there, and looked shocked. "On your knees, SLAVE! I want to see you naked in front of me.
Now, DO IT! Slaves obey free men, or had you forgotten?"
I don't think it was just the force of my personality, and Steve must at some level have wanted to go along with me. I expect he rationalised it by saying he was "playing along", but maybe I touched a chord somewhere deep down, because he took his clothes off, and knelt.
I went and sat in one of the armchairs, and snapped "Crawl over here, SLAVE, and kneel in front of me. I want to see you wank yourself. And remember how slaves do it when a free man is watching - knees spread, back straight, feet together, ass resting on your heels, and head bowed respectfully. You haven't forgotten how, have you, SLAVE?"
He crawled over as I sat there, fully clothed. It was exciting to see such a beautiful man wanking at my command, and I could understand why those who can afford it like having men so totally in their power. As I sensed he was about to cum, I snapped "Catch every drop in your hand! If an goes on the carpet, you'll be punished."
There's something even more exciting about a man supplicating himself in front of you with a hand full of his own semen. He knows you're in control, and I could see why Steve had found control so powerfully erotic in his own life.
I slowly got out of my clothes, and walked around naked, in silence, studiously ignoring Steve. I went into the bathroom and showered, then came out and stripped the covers and the pillows off the bed so there was just the plain mattress and the under-sheet.
"Up here, SLAVE. On your back - I like to fuck a SLAVE so I can see it's face."
As if in a trance Steve did as I said, and I went over and knelt beside his muscular body and began to massage his hole.
Look, you all know what it's like to fuck a really nice ass - well muscled and almost "virgin", as I doubted that Steve had been fucked since Matt last did it. So I don't need to go into the details. But I was gentle, because I cared about Steve, and fucked him slowly and languorously, taking time to occasionally bend forward and tease his nipples to add to his pleasure. When I sensed that I was about to cum I pulled out, and shot so that my semen lay in a great trail all up across his belly and into the thatch of his chest hair.
I went and washed my cock clean of his ass juice, and came back and lay beside him, pulling the covers over both of us. He was strangely immobile, and I had to use all my strength to get him to turn to face me. I rubbed my body against his, and pushed my thigh up between his legs. My cum stuck us together, almost.
"Was that OK, Steve? Can you smell the scent of me all over you? You're mine now, you know, as I claim you! I've fucked you, and I've scented you with the essence of my maleness."
To my amazement I saw a tear trickle out of Steve's eye, and I gently bent over his face and licked it away with my tongue, enjoying its saltiness.
"Pete... I'm not yours.. I've spent all this time avoiding slavery...."
"Hush! That's not what I meant. I want you to be mine, and me to be yours. You fucked me and possessed me, and now I've fucked you and I am claiming you as mine... Are you OK?"
"Oh, yes. It was great just to lie there for a change, not to have to make all the running, not to have to control the slave's dick..."
"Yes. Even strong men have to relax, Steve. You have to give up control sometimes, and providing you trust the guy you're with, it can be even better to receive than to take." I was conscious that this was getting a bit deep, so I decided to lighten the mood.
"You should have read your bible when you were a kid, Steve! I says it all there, you know - Jesus told men how to behave together. Didn't he say 'Be done by others as you would do unto them', and 'It is better to receive than to give', or some such?"
Steve roared with laughter, as he knew from our previous conversations that I thought all religion was silly superstition. And then it was fine between us.
We're still together today. Taking advantage of the equal rights legislation in the EU we married a month later, so that Steve had the right to come and live in London. He couldn't continue with his work, of course, so he mostly sold up in the US (but he still has the little house by the lake, and we occasionally vacation there). He decided he'd had enough of "desk" work and of organising every detail of a complex operation and he understands that he doesn't need to be a master, always totally in control, any longer: he's happy to work as a labourer on the new construction sites here in the East of the city - I often tease him that after all this time he's back where he started! He doesn't need to, of course, as when he sold his business and his personal slaves, he's actually very rich - but he tells me he wants to keep in shape, and they're a great bunch of guys on the site. I suspect he fucks some of them every now and then - when I pick him up some nights I can see why, too, as many of them look very fuckable.
He still likes to order me about, though, and he always decides where we're going on vacation, where we're going out to eat, what kind of car we're going to buy, and all that stuff. Mostly he fucks me, and, although he tries hard, I can still see him slipping away into that inner place he goes to where he's master of the universe as he starts to cum. If he gets too bad, though, I humiliate him a bit by making him wank in front of me, or have him stand naked with his erect cock on the dining table whilst I eat a solitary meal, and then I fuck him. It's a good life, for both of us.
I've gradually pieced together his life between "acquiring" Matt and Bill and our life now. One day I'll write it up in full, as Steve would tell it, but here's what happened.
Steve was in a real dilemma about what to do with the two slaves he now "owned". He wanted to fuck Matt, both to continue punishing him by subjecting him to the humiliation of being dominated, and because Steve prefers a big, muscular guy to fuck. But Bill - who had entered slavery voluntarily to help Steve - wanted Steve to fuck him. Bill was only young, and saw Steve not only as "wronged" but also as a role model. A further complication was that Bill still loved his father deeply, as a son should, and wanted to be fucked by Matt.
Whilst Steve always maintains that he didn't care for the feelings of either Matt or Bill, as they were both "just slaves", I think he did worry that he could not fully resolve all of these issues (or was it just that he couldn't see how to completely control the situation?). That's the primary cause for all his uneasiness about what happened, I believe: what he did to Bill and Matt affected him more deeply than he really knows.
They left Flagstaff, and now had a reasonable amount of money. After a few weeks wandering backwards and forwards across the West, they stopped one night in one of the inland resorts built for sailors and boating enthusiasts on the shores of one of the big hydroelectric lakes. Chatting to a local over dinner, Steve discovered that there was a run-down dock for sale, and the next day, he bought it.
Steve was no longer worried about being "denounced" by Matt, because of Steve's ownership of Bill. But Matt really did not "pull his weight" in all the very hard work necessary to get the dock back into working order. That's when Steve discovered the real secret of his subsequent success - his means of ensuring slaves really did work to their utmost ability.
Bill and he had been working hard all day, scraping and preparing the dock for painting, and Matt had been "pretending" to help, but generally idle. So after feeding them, Steve lectured them about the need to work hard for him, and told Matt that he was to be punished for failing to give his all that day. To the astonishment of both, he chained Matt to the wall of their house so that he could not interfere, then put Bill across his lap and spanked him very hard with his trainer.
Matt tried to break free and rescue Bill as the lad screamed as the harsh punishment went on, and afterwards Steve explained that in future punishments for Bill would be meted out on Matt, and if Matt deserved further punishment, it would be Bill who would receive it. Both father and son became almost model slaves thereafter, as neither wanted the other punished for his wrong doings!
Generally Steve fucked Matt, but two or three times a week he fucked Bill. Steve also ordered Bill to fuck Matt once a week, as he thought it would be good to continue to ensure that Bill didn't become a total bottom, and because he also knew that Matt found this particularly humiliating.
Steve had thought of making Matt be celibate, so that he would tend to be erect and leak pre-cum most of the time, but found a more novel approach to using Matt's sexuality to further humiliate him whilst amusing Steve. As you know, Steve likes seeing big, strong asses and thighs thrusting away whilst fucking. He didn't want to allow Matt to fuck Bill, or anyone else for that matter, but he told Matt that in future he could only cum if he fucked a man's hand: Matt was not allowed to masturbate, or have another man masturbate him. Instead he had to persuade "someone" to lie on the floor and cup their two hands together, and Matt had then to lie over them and fuck their hands! All the thrusting of normal sex was visible as Steve watched, but there was none of the excitement of a real ass - the process was rather like the use of an artificial vagina that a bull mounts when its semen is being collected for artificial insemination!
I have the notes I took as Steve recounted how Matt tried to avoid doing anything for a few days, then was found illicitly masturbating himself - so Bill was punished. Matt then tried celibacy again, but after four days had to beg and plead with Bill to lie there and have his hands fucked. Steve says it was so erotic - the father pleading with the son, then seeing the big man thrusting up and down over the body of his son, without penetrating him. And, of course, when Matt did cum, his son's hands were covered in his cum and it dripped on to Bill's body, too. If and when I ever write this scene up in full, I believe I will have another best seller!
Matt bought a small fleet of "pedallos" - you know, the small floating platforms with a paddle wheel that is turned by the user pedalling away. They proved immensely popular with the tourists, who didn't own sailboats or motor cruisers, as they could get out and see more of the lake. And, guess what, it was Matt and Bill, working totally naked, who had to "manage" the fleet to and from its moorings in the lake. Steve was doing very nicely, making a good living, especially as he could frequently hire out Matt and Bill to the very old, the very fat, or the very unfit to pedal the pedallo for them.
Steve had an idyllic life, really - little stress, a good income, two slaves - both very fuckable, healthy outdoor living in a beautiful place, and as much sex as he wanted: he could either fuck Matt, or Bill, or both. Or could watch them, if he chose, as Bill fucked his dad, or Matt "fucked" Bill's hands. He stuck it for two years!
Steve told me - and here I have slready transcribed some of my notes so I will use them in full - "Look, I was 26 years old, and a real stud. Sure, I'd got two great asses to fuck, but that's not enough, is it?
A man needs variety. Man is made to be promiscuous, and for two years it was the same old asses every time. I didn't know what to do, really - I thought of advertising on one of the bulletin boards, and, to my surprise, found a guy in the next town along the lake.
We swapped photos, and he was really turned on when he saw my body, and I thought his was OK."
"We arranged to meet, and I was to go to his place. As I drove there I was terrified: sure, I was great at fucking and knew I'd leave the guy very satisfied. But I didn't know how to react to sex with a free man - I'd only had sex as a slave, or with slaves. I know the physical process is the same - but what about everything else? A drink first? Chat? What if you don't like the guy when you meet him? I was so nervous when I pulled up outside this lake side house that I almost didn't go in at all."
"Blake was really nice. Older than me - early thirties. Lots of money, and the confidence that goes with it. I was sweating so much and kind of stammering, and I think he thought he'd got a virgin! But he knew what to do, and we were soon naked - and then of course he found he'd very much not got a virgin. Afterwards we wandered around the house, still naked, and sat on the balcony admiring the view.
It was a pretty small house, actually - I'd only seen one bedroom - but even so it must have been millions of dollars because of its position."
"Blake told me he didn't live there, but came down most weekends from the city as he and his father owned a sailboat. I suggested we got together the next weekend, but Blake kind of flushed, then changed the subject. I thought I'd done something wrong sexually, so didn't press it, finished my drink, dressed, and left. Two weeks later I was surprised to get a call from Blake inviting me over, and we had another night of what I thought was great sex. Blake had been talking about sailing the next weekend, so I asked if we were going to meet, and again he just deflected the question. So I lost my temper a bit... I remember saying things like 'Look, you arrogant rich fucker, if I'm not doing it right, just say'. It turned out that he couldn't meet me as his father was coming down with him that weekend. 'So you'll be sleeping on the couch?', I said, jokingly. Blake flushed all over, as he knew I knew there was only one bed, and sort of muttered something about he and his dad being very close, and sharing the bedroom..."
"''Oh, so you and your dad fuck, do you? Who's the top?' I asked, almost as if I was joking. And the Blake told me they did - his father liked fucking younger guys, and Blake was the only one around. Blake personally preferred older guys, and his dad was usually the only one available (they both worked very long hours and didn't have much time to socialise). Blake was only being fucked by me, who was younger than him, as he'd failed to find any other partners in the area. It hadn't occurred to me that anyone would be ashamed of fucking with his dad, and I think Blake was pleased to find a guy who was not judgmental about it."
"Once the truth was out and Blake could see I wasn't shocked by it, we laughed and he said he'd invite me over to meet his dad the next weekend. The old guy, George, couldn't take his eyes off me, and Blake whispered, when we both went out to take a piss, that his father really fancied me. I was younger than Blake, had a great body.. and just fitted his dad's requirements! Blake wanted me to let his dad fuck me, but there was no way that was going to happen, was there? I told Blake I would happily fuck his dad - one ass was much like another, after all, but his dad didn't take it, apparently."
"George seemed a nice kind of guy, so I picked up the phone and called home and told Bill to get in one of the pedallos and paddle across - it was about five miles by road, but the two towns were separated by a relatively narrow strip of water. He tied up at Blake's private mooring, and stood in front of the three of us - he was breathing hard from his exertion, and his muscular body -which was filling out nicely now as he was eighteen and had had two years of good hard work - was covered in an agreeable sheen of sweat."
"I asked George if this was the kind of guy he liked fucking, and I thought he was going to bite my hand off - he'd never seen anything quite as desirable as Bill. So I called Bill over and told him to go to the bedroom with George, and to make sure George had a good time! Poor Bill - he almost burst into tears, even at his age! 'Please, Steve... What have I done? I try to please you... ". I comforted him, and explained that this wasn't punishment - I wanted him to learn about being fucked by other men as part of his education, and that the best way he had of pleasing me was to go with George and take his dick enthusiastically!"
"Blake and I made out on the sofa, but I kept one ear open for what was going on in the bedroom: George did seem to be a nice guy, as he talked to Bill for quite a time, then I heard the sounds of them starting, and, soon, Bill's cries of passion! I knew him well enough
to know that he couldn't be faking it, as I had to work really hard to get him to make those kinds of sounds. Then it went quiet, and I heard the murmur of voices, and the occasional laugh."
"George and Bill came back in to the room, and George hadn't bothered to dress. He saw me still inside Blake, and sat down to watch, taking Bill onto his lap and holding the young guy very tenderly. I decided to leave Bill there with them that night, and went back home to Matt."
"He was frantic, of course, but I wouldn't tell him what I'd done with Bill. I kind of suggested that this is how it would be if I'd just chosen to take Bill off to a slave dealer, and I thought Matt would go frantic - it really gave him a taste of how worried I'd been, when slicing had been considered. I thought he was going to refuse to let me fuck him at all that night, and was almost looking forward to a real fight, so I could rape him again, but at the last moment he gave in, and fell to his knees, imploring me to get Bill back. God, it felt good - the bastard was really suffering now, and I felt completely triumphant at the way I was dealing with him."
"The next morning I still wouldn't say where Bill was, but instructed him to deal with the pedallo business properly, as I 'might', and I emphasised the 'might', to keep him worrying, be going to get Bill back. Instead, I went to see Blake and George, and found all three of them still in bed - Bill didn't look at all worried, and I felt certain that if I sold him to George, he'd be going to a good home. I offered Bill to George for a week's free trial, and they agreed to take him back to the city with them later that day."
"I really didn't want to go back to work that day, as I preferred to leave Matt suffering, so I drove around for a bit, then remembering something I'd seen in the local paper, drove about fifty miles to where a travelling slave dealer had said he'd be holding a sale. It was pretty well organised - all the slaves were displayed, as I had been, totally naked, and conveniently arranged by age and body type so you could look at just the men (or women) that you were interested in. I went to see the owner, and asked if there were any slaves that he was interested in selling cheaply, in order to turn the stock, and he told me that there was a big-built 19-year old farm boy from Iowa who'd been enslaved after he'd knocked up his girl friend and refused to marry her - he hadn't then been able to make the maintenance payments the state demanded for the kid. It seems that he was working on some sort of 'principle' that she should have aborted, and by the time he realised she was working on a 'principle' too, the costs had escalated so high that he had no chance of paying them. The dealer had no idea why he hadn't sold as he was obviously strong and a potentially hard worker, except that big, rangy body types were definitely out of fashion! He was destined for the organ banks after today, but I could have him at 30 percent off list."
"He looked a bit like a dumb farmer, I suppose - wide eyed, big nose, dark blond hair (in the regulation short slave trim), over six foot, large muscles, big hands, and a long, fat dick. He'd been tattooed with his SIN as I now knew was standard, and of course was pre-'skinned. I went up to him and did a pretty thorough inspection, feeling his muscles all over, then erecting him to see how he looked at attention. All the time I could sense that whilst he hated my hands on him he really wanted me to buy him, and I remembered how I'd felt that day more than two years ago when I'd seen my last hopes of life fading away as the afternoon crowds diminished and the chances of a sale were low."
"The dealer was standing watching, and I asked if I could try the boy's ass out - he agreed, of course, and was expecting me to just finger it. But when I went to unbuckle my belt and he saw I meant to try fucking the lad, he asked me if I wouldn't prefer to go into one of the travelling caravans. 'No', I told him. 'I can fuck him here. If anyone wants to watch, they can, as far as I am concerned. I am a free man with a good body and I have nothing to be ashamed of'."
"Incredibly, it seemed he was a virgin in spite of having been in the slave system for a few months, as he had no idea how to take a dick up him. The dealer and I had to almost place him in position on his knees so that I could doggy him, and he was making little groaning noises of embarrassment and terror as the dealer first jerked him off, then gave me his cum to lube him with. Well it wasn't a very good fuck, as he didn't yet know how to react, but there was a lot of bucking around as I mounted him and thrust into him. He'd have been screaming his head off if he hadn't been gagged, as he didn't seem to understand that he should relax and let it happen, not try to fight me. I wasn't sure about buying him: these big, strong guys could be unpredictable I thought, and in a year or so, with proper diet and hard work, he'd be so strong that he might resist me. But it seemed a pity to let the organ banks have him, so I agreed to buy him at that very advantageous price, contracting to send the money within one month. One of the advantages of the slave system is that bad debt is a thing of the past, and men are now far more likely to agree to settlement terms like this, as defaulting is likely to lead to enslavement."
"Just as I was leaving with the boy, still cuffed and gagged, I heard a terrific noise coming from one of the caravans. The dealer ignored it, but when I asked what it was he told me it was a completely ungovernable slave - a slave so indisciplined, so impossible to train, that they'd had no choice but to withdraw him from public sale. He was just being kept locked up until the collection van form the organ banks met them the following day, and he knew it! In spite of being gagged and chained, he was throwing himself around in his cage in sheer uncontrolled physical rage."
"Somehow this excited me, and I asked to see him. The dealer was reluctant, as the slave was so violent, but I insisted. His sale sheet told me that he was formerly a marine, a sergeant, aged 28, who'd basically been sentenced by a court martial to enslavement for having sexual relations with the wife of his colonel. He was a good looking slave, with a hard, wiry body - only about 5'11" tall, but not an ounce of fat on him. 'We did all we could', the dealer told me, 'but he just wouldn't go on display. Any potential buyer that tried to handle him, and he lashed out. So it's off to the banks for him tomorrow'. 'Leave me with him for a few minutes, and take my slave to my truck and tie him in the back', I told the dealer."
"I went and stood and looked at the guy, and his efforts to kick the cage in were redoubled. He was covered in sweat form his exertions, and had broken his skin in several places as he lashed out at the bars. I stood there, motionless, and gradually he stopped and stood there glaring at me. 'I am your last hope, boy', I told him. 'If I decide not to buy you, the organ banks get you tomorrow. Do you know that?' The slave nodded. 'So do you want that?' He shook his head, violently. 'Look, I know how you feel - no, really I do.', and I related to him how I'd been facing the same fate. 'Now, your very last chance. Do you agree to be my slave, or shall I simply get out of here?'
"He might have been violent up until now, but he wasn't stupid. I could see that he had - temporarily - accepted defeat. I think he had recognised that I was a natural master, and probably something in his marines training made him ready to accept a true authority figure. 'If you want me to buy you, you must accept that I will use you sexually. Do you agree?' He shook his head violently, so I turned and walked away. At once the kicking and muffled roars started again, and I turned around. He at once quietened. 'Changed your mind? You do accept it?' He nodded, slowly, and stood there with head bowed. 'Very well, kneel down with your ass right up against the bars. Press your shoulders into the ground. I'm going to fuck you through the bars, hard, and without any preparation. It will hurt you like hell physically, but marines are supposed to be tough. And it will probably hurt you more mentally, as you seem to be a breeder - although, as a marine, I guess you might have had some fun times in the barracks'."
"Well, it's no fun trying to fuck a virgin, dry, through bars, and I didn't enjoy it at all. And I know the marine hated it even more as he must have been hurting when I'd finished. He was almost sobbing, as he lay on the floor of the tiny cage. I got 30% off him as well, and he was very subdued when I had him chained in the back of the pickup, next to the farm boy."
"Now I had to act, of course, and so I went home via Blake and George's house, and negotiated a very good price for Bill. I let the lad listen to the conversation, so he'd know how much I was concerned for him - by forcing a very high price, I knew that his new owner would be inclined to take very great care of him. Somehow, though, he didn't see it that way, and he hardly spoke to me as I formally handed him over to George. He even tried to plead with me - 'Steve, I only did this for you... And now you are selling me!'. He had to be set right for the future though, so I was stern, replying 'You are a slave, and never forget that. You enslaved yourself - no one asked you to. You are my property, and after two years I am bored with your ass and so I have decided to replace you. Learn the lesson that your owner can do with you as he chooses - learn it now, or you may have big problems in the future. It really is for your own good, as George will be a good owner'. I know Bill did not accept this, as he thought he was something special to me, but I really was bored and I did need to move on - a man has to think of his own pleasure, doesn't he?"
"Actually, I did not completely sell Bill to George: I had been thinking about this and had decided that I would only give him a very long lease - technically, Bill was still my property. When I got back to Matt, I could then still hold over him the fact that if I was enslaved again, Bill would revert to the state and might be sold to anyone. Nevertheless, George would pay all the lease fees 'up front', so I would get capital out of Bill."
"I was talking to Blake in the kitchen, having a beer before setting off home, and George had taken Bill to the bedroom to give him his inaugural fuck as the new slave. 'Well my dad is OK now', Blake said, 'But where does that leave me? Dad likes to fuck younger guys, so he will be obsessed with Bill and I will miss out'. 'Well, you can come here every weekend and I will fuck you...'. 'Steve, I love your dick, I love the way you know how to use it. But you are not as old as me, and for me, it's not the same - I want an older guy. You are OK as an occasional fuck, as a friend, but not for a long term partner. I would buy a slave, but it is so difficult to find one who tops - the slave training of all the slaves coming through the system seems to turn them all into completely compliant bottoms."
"Well, that was it! Within minutes I had sold Matt to Blake for a very good price, and drove home sitting on a very handsome profit, even after I'd bought the farm boy and the marine. Incidentally, I don't remember their names - after Matt and Bill I never kept a slave longer than a year, and I never thought of them with names so that I was not tempted to get too attached to them."
"At home, Matt was still fretting about Bill, and he almost attacked me when I told him that Bill was sold.
And when I told him how he still could not turn me in, he was almost apoplectic. Then I got serious. 'Matt, you did terrible things to me as an owner. I worked hard for you, but you were going to have my dick and balls taken off for no real reason. I punished you by making you a slave, and now I have had enough - I have sold you, too, but unlike you, I am a kind, considerate guy - you are sold into the same household as Bill! Now, one last time, get down and kiss my dick, as a sign of your gratitude and so that I can see that you fully accept the position and your slave status. I can still back out, you know, and you might then never see Bill again."
"Well, that was that - I still have a house at the lake but I only go there occasionally. The pedallo business was sold long ago, and a young guy and his brother run it - I don't think they do as well as I did, as being free men they can only swim around in tiny posing pouches, and I think a lot of my customers came to look at Bill and Matt in the nude. But during my time there, I think I can rightfully say I was a 'Harbour Master'! I started off being a slave to Matt, the Harbour Master at Seatown, and now I was a master in my own little harbour!"
"It's good, during my visits, though, to see that Blake, George, Bill and Matt seem still to be happy together, and in a way, all four of them have what they want - younger/older, top/bottom, although I advise Blake all the time to fuck Matt occasionally to make sure he remembers he is a slave. In fact, on my last visit, I kind of insisted, and I took Matt myself, quite forcibly, whilst Blake, Bill and George all watched, just to remind him of old times!"
"That farm boy and the marine were the basis of my fortune. I really trained them for about six months, using the 'buddy' principle - even the marine buckled and took instruction properly when he saw it was the innocent Iowa farm boy who got whipped if the marine had displeased me. After six months, I sold them as properly trained slaves, in really good shape, and totally used to obeying a master's every order. My profit on them was substantial, after my 30% discount on buying them, especially as they were such perfect specimens and fetched a premium price. And so I did it again, and again, and again."
My notes are not complete beyond this point, and one day I must get Steve to tell me more detail. But with a very substantial capital from selling five pairs of slaves at high profits, and a steady income from his little business that he ran totally with naked slaves, he had acquired a bit of a local reputation as "someone who knew how to deal with slaves, especially if they were not behaving". Other men started to ask his advice on the treatment of their slaves, and he got interviewed on local TV once after he'd helped a woman tame a pair of brothers she'd bought and who had initially refused to service her in the ways she liked.
One of the national news programmes had left New York for the day and their anchorman heard this story, and arranged to interview Steve for their breakfast show the following morning, and it all went from there - he's so handsome, so good looking, so intelligent, and has such a ready wit that the switchboard jammed with calls.
He diligently answered all the e-mails after the progrmame, and one was from a publisher who was having problems with a slave about Steve's age that he'd bought, and who the publisher said was "arrogant". Steve had the man for two weeks, and after that the publisher had no more problems - Steve told the publisher to threaten to send the slave back to Steve if he didn't like his behaviour! The publisher was so impressed with Steve's manner (and enjoyed a good weekend in bed with Steve, I believe) that he suggested he write a book. "The Care And Management Of Slaves" was getting to be a bit old fashioned, and Steve's book, "Yes, YOU can train your slave!" with its emphasis on practical methods that any man could use swept to the top of the best sellers. It's never been off the list since. The royalties made Steve a seriously rich man, and other than having to produce a new edition every now and then, he didn't need to do much.
It was pure chance that I met him in France - it was risky for him to travel, as I've told you, but when he vacationed in the US his face was so well recognised that he couldn't really enjoy any free time because of all the people who want his autograph, and free advice!
In addition to writing his book, Steve kept a small "farm" of slaves that Steve was "bringing on" more as a hobby than anything else - Steve really didn't need the money. But it amused him to train the men, and he could honestly say in his book that everything he wrote was based on sound, practical experience. He was a good master, though, and many slaves have cause to be grateful to him - whenever he went to an auction, he'd always look at the "bargain rail" to inspect the stock that's otherwise destined for the organ banks, and somehow the "farm" got more than its fair share of these slaves. He saved them from an early death, so they could live out useful and productive lives, once he has adjusted their attitude.
In the early days of our relationship I didn't mind, really - that dick of his needs constant attention, and after he'd been in the training sheds all day, I could at least be certain that he'd only want to fuck me once that night.
I suppose we could have continued to live a simple life on the farm, with me taking trips to work at my writing, but I didn't think it was really doing Steve good to be forced to continue to play the tough, demanding, harsh master all day. He really did need to give up some of his almost insatiable desire to "control", and so I persuaded him to sell up totally and come to London, as I have mentioned. It really does suit him better to lead the life of a labourer, just clocking in each morning, following orders, then clocking off each night without a care in the world. I think his complete desire for "control" was over compensation for the traumas he'd suffered as a slave, and with my guidance and my occasional correction of him as I described earlier, he's much happier.
As I said when I started this little memoire, "Harbour Master" itself, where I finished it originally, is a moral tale of a poor boy making good through his own efforts. Steve's subsequent achievements in life are a lesson to us all, I believe, and show what hard work and a healthy interest in sex can do for a man.
Pete Brown. THE END