Kansas City Holding Pens

By Anonymous4371

Published on Aug 19, 2007

Gay

KANSAS CITY SLAVE PENS

Part II

by Bill Smith (anonymous4371@juno.com).

[Feedback on stories is always very much appreciated.]


Archibald Nelson was Slaveco's Chief Procurer for the corporation's "Midwest U.S. Studs" pen. It was but one of 21 Slaveco pens and operated at its huge international slave processing, training, and sales center in Kansas City, Missouri. He was now busily compiling a sales follow-up study among the pen's customers over the past year.

He remembered many of the sales being tracked. Some had been hard to break to their slavery. Some had been remarkably easy - the so-called natural slaves. Some had come to the pen through unusual sources - a huge lot of "boat people" from Australian immigration centers, a big purchase from a Mozambique breeding farm, some war captives from Syria. Some had been particularly outstanding in satisfying him sexually.

Two of those in the last category were on the most recent list. Stud, a full black, had been sold to a Columbian drug lord for his personal zoo; Rosco had been sold to a Yemeni sheik as "display slave," whites being unusual in that part of the world. Archibald Nelson got an incipient erection as he recalled how well both of the slave's could swallow you completely down their throats without gagging and with great relish and how both had offered their asses up for a deep fucking without hesitation and with an almost eager participation in their own ravishment. He wished the two slaves were back here in the pens awaiting his usage now, but then realized how far away both of them were with their new owners.

When he read the follow-up report, he was astonished. The Columbian master wanted a replacement slave under the terms of Slaveco's usual satisfaction guarantee of 90 days, no questions asked. The report claimed his recent purchase had acclimated readily to his role as part of his owner's zoo and made no objection to being constantly viewed in his cage nude, being fondled and stroked by his owner's guests, and was totally compliance in meeting all of the sexual demands of those within the drug lord's compound - his many sons, his free staff, his guests, and his business associates. He performed faultlessly when put to public sexual exhibitions with the other slaves in the zoo for his master's entertainments. He put up no resistance whatsoever when asked to service his master's wife, daughters, and female guests and was careful to control his orgasms when servicing them so there was no risk of impregnation by a stud slave.

The only problem with the slave, and it was a major one in view of why he had been purchased, was in his assignment to breed with the female brood slaves kept on the grounds for the purpose of constantly producing a crop of new slaves. The Columbian lord had bred slaves for generations and now counted on a crop of 100 or so a year coming of marketable age (18) that he sold off at great profit, many of them to Slaveco over the years. Stud had been purchased to add to his stable of studs kept in the zoo specifically because of his jet-black color, an attribute lacking in his other studs who ranged from white to a deep brown but who otherwise shared his features of magnificent physique, huge sexual organs, and handsome good looks.

But Stud had refused to "make new slaves." The report went on to state the owner had tried all the usual persuaders useful with recalcitrant slaves: 100 lashes of the whip; the electric prod set up to its highest level (pain so intense it usually ended in burns on the skin before unconsciousness); thumb and ball screws; a starvation regime; weights on nipple rings and the slave's genital band; tethering by a newly installed nose ring; and, finally, being placed on a fucking machine with a huge dildo designed to tear up anal chutes in a most painful way. Despite all this, Stud still refused to "make new slaves." The report said the owner was fearful any further persuasion would seriously lessen the trade-in value of the slave and he didn't want to risk that, especially since it would easier just to turn the slave in for a replacement under Slaveco's guarantee.

Slaveco's investigator, taking a pure black replacement slave with him (which was valued even more than Stud due to his youth and even bigger sexual organs which were usually hard and dripping) for the valued customer in Columbia, was delighted to find the customer was more than satisfied with the guarantee replacement slave, especially since he correctly ascertained the new slave was worth even more than the expensive one he had originally purchased.

When the new slave was put to a couple of female breeding slaves as a test, he mounted them enthusiastically and pumped away instantly until it was obvious he had emptied his balls in the first and, without being told, then mounted the second wench without hesitation and pumped away until another full load was delivered. The new slave had totally ignored the moans, stifled screams, and grunts from the female broods as he fucked them, sounds emanating from their fear they couldn't stretch big enough to handle a prick so large, bigger than anything they had ever seen up to now. The stud slave signaled to his new Columbian master if he wanted his new property to remount the first wench for a second breeding. When the Columbian told the new stud to save himself for a second round in a few hours, the jet-black slave looked disappointed but promptly assumed a full display position, his monstrous prick glistening from the cunt juices which matched the fine sheen of sweat on his smooth body.

"That why I like buying from a reputable outfit like Slaveco," the drug lord said, obviously satisfied with the new stud slave. "You don't have to worry about buying a dud. The corporation will always make good on it," as he reached over and ran his hand all over the sleek body of his new slave. "And this slave really looks like a stud, doesn't he?" he asked as he hefted the slave's large balls and then stroked the long, still hard shaft of the black slave. "Does it have a name?" the Columbian asked the Slaveco agent.

"You can name it what you want, of course, sir, but right now he goes by 'Wentworth'," the agent snickered. "Don't ask me why his last master named him that, but he did."

"Has the slave been muted?" the Columbian asked.

"No need to so far," the agent replied.

"Good, then we can asked the slave himself where he got the name," the Columbian replied.

Nodding to the slave, still in full display position, he asked, "Slave, why did your last master name you 'Wentworth'?"

"Master, his pet dog with that name died the same day he bought me and he named me in memory of his dog," the slave replied, his eyes lowered to the ground respectfully.

"Named after a dog, then, slave?" the Columbian said as he reached forward and kneaded one of the slave's ringed tits until it was fully erect.

"Yes, master," the slave said, arching his back just slightly from the rough kneading of his sensitive tit.

"Steady there, boy," the Columbian said. "When you're caged in my petting zoo, your tits and everything else are going to be fondled a lot. Might as well get used to it now," he counseled.

"Yes, master," the black slave said as he thrust his pectorals forward to make it easier for his new master to do whatever he wanted with the slave's tits.

"You have a petting zoo, sir?" the Slaveco agent asked out of curiosity. "Would it be asking too much to take a little look-see before I take your old purchase back to the states? We're always looking for new ideas in marketing our products, sir."

"As well you should be," the Columbian customer replied. "And there's no problem at all in visiting the zoo - I ask all my guests to do so if they get the chance. Most of them enjoy the novelty. But it's a petting zoo, so don't be hesitant in feeling any aspect of the slave's bodies that are in the zoo - they're used to it and don't mind it at all - quite the contrary by now," he winked. "And if you see anything there you'd like in your room overnight, don't be too shy to ask. That's what they're there for - to entertain my guests - among other things."

"Other things?" the agent smiled.

"The zoo animals also serve stud for my breeding operations," the Columbian said. The boy I'm returning was fine in the zoo and in entertaining my guests. But he was worthless when it came to being a stud. Now this boy here," he added as he began to stroke the slave's prick back up to a full erection, "won't be so damn limited it seems."

"What do you think the problem was?" the agent asked as the Columbian proceeded to stroke the huge organ of his new acquisition.

"He didn't mind being fucked, sucking his heart out, having his tits played with, fucking the other male slaves or a master, fucking a mistress to her total satisfaction without discharging - you name it, it was fine with him. But when I put him to a breeding wench with the goal of making a new slave baby - meaning a full discharge of his seed into the brood slave - he balked and no amount of persuasion could make him do it. And, mind you, I'm damn good at persuading a slave, let me tell you. But he just wouldn't do it - the bastard would rather die first, it seemed. Of course, I could have milked him and then used his seed to artificially inseminate the brood slaves, but why bother and the hit rate is much higher with an actual fucking, as well as being a lot more fun for the brood slaves. But a slave should do what he's told without reservations, and that bastard had reservations, it seemed."

"But, why?" the agent asked, equally mystified.

"Who really knows?" the Columbian retorted. "He was muted before you delivered him, of course, so we'll probably never really know."

"He isn't a bred slave, sir," the agent said, "and wasn't enslaved until he was in over his head in credit card debt when he was 19 or so. My guess is he can read and write."

"Never thought of that - so few slaves I get down here know how to read and write since most of them were born into it or were so damn poor they never received any schooling. We'll get a paper and pen and see if the bastard can write out an explanation for us."

With that, Stud was found in his transit cage and handed a pencil and paper.

"Can you read and write, slave?" the agent asked.

Stud nodded vigorously in the affirmative.

"Write out what you would say if you weren't muted," the agent ordered. "Why did you refuse to stud the breeding wenches despite everything done to change your mind?"

Stud quickly scribbled on the pad of paper handed him.

"O.K. to make slaves due to personal debt, criminal behavior, sold by parents or orphanage, captives of war, state prisoners, or stupid enough to get kidnaped by slave catchers. O.K. if both parents are slaves and have you naturally. But deliberately breeding babies as a market product isn't part of the natural order of human society. Slaves are different than other animals and shouldn't be bred like animals."

Stud handed the paper to the agent, whereupon both his Columbian master and the agent read it together, curious as to the slave's answer. When they hit the last line of the slave's response, they both broke out laughing.

"Slaves are different than other animals?" the Columbian guffawed. "It's alright to be in a zoo like an animal, but it's not alright to be bred. That's the damnest logic I've ever heard - slave or not. Either you're an animal or you're not. Even you seem to admit, slave, that slaves are animals, and animals get bred - look at the cattle and horses around here, for example. Damn good thing no one ever thought of buying you for your brain power instead of that pretty body of yours," he broke up into spasm of laughter. "Stupidest damn thing I ever heard of, and, if slaves could talk, that's the sort of thing you might have to listen to."

"It is truly absurd," the agent agreed. "Even in the pens, we often put a stud to a female slave to get her pregnant for an upcoming sale. Sometimes they balk a bit when the brood is really ugly or an old hag or deformed or something and you have to use some whip on them, but I've never heard a stud balk because making a slave baby wasn't right. That's absolutely nuts and I've been around a lot of crazy slaves in my lifetime, sir."

"Well, the replacement seems to enjoy himself fucking the brood slaves," the Columbian said, "as has every other stud I've ever had in the zoo. So that tells you how nuts this slave really is. He can't even get one other stud to agree with him, let alone a master. You've got your work cut out for you, once you get this boy back to the pens for some serious retraining."

"Sir, if you'll just sign these new ownership papers and the release form for Stud, I can get that formality out of the way before I head down to the zoo you were talking about. I'll have Stud loaded on the Slaveco jet now so I'm ready to go the minute I see what's going on down in that zoo, sir. Can I assume he's been flushed out properly for the trip home before you caged him, sir? If not, I can have the plane's steward do it now."

"I was so damn mad I didn't bother to do anything to him. He can crap in his cage for all I care."

"In that case, I'll have the plane steward clean him out thoroughly, sir, and chain his wrists to the cage bars so he can't play with himself on the trip back. After all, we're not running a resort which the slave will find out soon enough the minute we're back in Kansas City."

Stud, hearing this, sighed inwardly. He had never once ever thought of the Kansas City Slave Pen as a resort. Quite the opposite, he reflected, as he thought about the constant fucking of his ass and throat, the Mylar whips in steady use across his back, butt, and thighs, the tight restraints and control rings fitted to his body, his perpetual nudity, and the incessant stroking of his most tender body parts. His Columbian owner was so slouch when it came to controlling his slave 'animals.' His body still bore the signs of the Columbian's correctional efforts: a torn, bleeding anal lining from the huge dildos forced up it; a nose septum so tender from his nose ring it hurt every time he breathed; tits so sore from the twisting of tit rings he couldn't lay on his stomach anymore, open burns on his balls from the electric prods turned to their highest setting, and a stomach growling from constant hunger and thirst. He weighed a good 20 pounds less than when he had been purchased and his rig cage was now a prominent feature of his torso; his ass still bled from where the mammoth dildos had torn him apart; his tits were swollen to three times their normal size from all the kneading of the rings; and his balls chronically ached from all the electric shocks that had practically burnt them off. The Kansas City pens couldn't do much more to him outside of cutting his balls off, starving him to death, or crucifying him publicly in the pen as an example to those who might be secretly toying with the idea of even mildly resisting any of the daunting demands placed upon them incessantly as mere property. Perhaps they wouldn't bother and just ship him off pronto to the rendering plants to cut their losses. He'd seen that happen occasionally when a new recruit just wouldn't (or perhaps couldn't if they had come from a pampered background) adjust to the demands slavery imposed nowadays. Usually, though, those slaves had been old, ugly, deformed, worn out, or insolent.

"Slaveco can do what they want with this slave, but, if it were me, I'd just ship him off to the rendering plant in Bogota and not bother shipping him anywhere. His body parts are worth something, I imagine, and some people into crafts would pay handsomely for that black hide of his. Here in Columbia, we don't waste a thing. We recycle slaves - the rendering plants turn out a nourishing but reasonably priced slave chow I feed all my slaves."

"They claim the chow made in the U.S. is all road kill, garbage, and grains, but just what constitutes road kill is a big question," the Slaveco agent reflected. "There's no government control so I imagine it's made out of whatever is available and cheap."

"Then you're using recycled slaves," the Columbian chuckled. "You gringos aren't stupid when it comes to saving money."

Stud, in his cage overhearing this and almost starved to death by now, was almost glad he was starving despite the constant hunger pangs he was experiencing. Since being enslaved, he had always been fed slave chow and, perhaps because it was tasteless, had never thought about what it was made of. It satisfied his hunger and his body flourished on it so he could see where no slave he knew of ever wondered exactly what they were eating as long as they weren't hungry and their health was fine. Now he knew he would always wonder about its origins with every swallow of the nourishing feed. If the worst about it was true, was that cannibalism? He didn't think so since it was highly processed. At least, he had never heard anyone ever even suggest that slaves were cannibalistic outside of raping each other when they had been deprived of sex for weeks or even months. But that was a misuse of the word - using a slave's body for sexual relief was one thing; consuming all of a slave's body was another.

The agent visited the zoo as the plane's steward uncaged Stud and began cleaning the slave inside and out before putting him back in the cage and fastening the commanded restraints to his wrists so he couldn't touch his body while in transit. Stud was soon motionless in his cramped cage and fitted into the baggage area of the small corporate jet.

Meanwhile the agent found the Columbian's zoo a real delight. The three remaining studs in the petting zoo (one was busy in the rutting shed with an assigned brood) made no objections whatsoever as he stroked their huge erect organs, massaged their plump full balls, played with their ringed tits until they too were erect and swollen, and had one of them (a striking blond) suck him off skillfully, swallowing his entire organ in one gulp clear down his throat. He had one of the slaves (a handsome mulatto boy) bend over to inspect his hole and, delightedly, found it tight but easy to enter with up to three fingers at once as the slave simply moaned softly while his ass muscles clamped themselves around the visitor's exploring fingers. Later, now drained by the blond, he toyed idly with a cocoa-colored slave's large tits, thrust out for his convenience atop beautifully sculpted pecs and a washboard stomach. That slave had a ass that was the classic "bubble butt" and begged to be fucked, but the blond had done his job so well in draining him, he never got around to it.

The Columbian host joined him now that the new slave was being body shaved and douched for use that evening.

"Want to use any of these boys for an overnight stay?" the Columbian graciously suggested. "There will be one more to choose from shortly. He'll have drained his balls down in the rutting shed within a few minutes and you'll get a chance to look him over too. Don't worry, he be up and ready to go by the time supper's over."

"Thanks for your hospitality, but I've got to start back. Those in charge at the pen are expecting Stud's return by tomorrow morning and it'll take a good six hours to get to Kansas City and probably eight before I have him caged at the pen properly. Transporting slaves from the terminals to the pens is getting to be a problem - we've got over 20,000 in stock now with a good 1,000 a day either coming or going, and that's on a weekday."

"Business must be booming," the Columbian observed. "I know I can sell my crop of bred slaves each year with no trouble at all and the prices are holding steady despite all the breeding going on these days."

"Yes, sir, we're busy alright, but some of the other pens at the complex are even busier than we are."

"Really, I thought 'Midwest U.S. Studs' would be as popular as any. What else is selling so well?"

"'Mexican Boys,' 'Canadian and Australian Men,' and 'Pacific Rim Women' can't keep their cages full. After a good weekend, those pens are two-thirds empty sales have been so brisk."

The Columbian pondered the information a while. "I can see the Pacific women - they're really hot until they get to be in their late 20's and turn to fat, but why the Mexican brown boys and the white boys from the commonwealth?"

"Well, the Mexican boys are dirt cheap, cute as all get-out, eager as a goat, and you have a wonderful selection. As you say, the South Sea women are about as sexy as they get and seem to have no inhibitions whatsoever in how they're used. And the Australian and Canadian boys sell mainly to the Arabs - seems like everyone over in those oil-rich countries just has to have a handsome white slave boy in his bedroom or at least a white slave to parade around town tethered by a ring in his prick, through his nose, or by a tit. Rich Arab women are really into this 'parading a male slave around' bit - as much as the men they tell me.

"Well, that explains that," the Columbian responded. "Makes our quiet little life here in the jungles seem almost prosaic, doesn't it?"

"Well, the Americans don't have zoos yet that I know of," the agent chuckled, "although I bet those Arabs do - they've got so much money they can do anything. I might suggest to Slaveco that they set up a little zoo demonstration over in the pens that feature primarily white slaves and see if the Arabs don't pick up on it. Slaveco gives bonuses if you make a suggestion that increases the profits."

"If they take up your suggestion, I expect a very nice demonstration of your appreciation on your next trip down - something like a sleek Australian stud comes to mind as very appropriate," the Columbian smiled.

"If I get a good bonus on your idea, count on it. And it won't be some worn out stud either. I'm talking about a nice fresh teenager that's hung like a horse."

"That's the type of bonus I give to a really outstanding drug salesman, my friend," the Columbian drug czar admitted. "Each year, I give away two or three of the best of my 18- year-old bred slaves slated for the marketplace anyway. The gifts aren't the runts - I give away the outstanding ones that are so dazzlingly beautiful they tend to take your breath away. That's why I have no trouble attracting the best salesmen in the business and they stay loyal to me too. They never know when another handsome piece of flesh might be coming their way."

With that, the agent returned to his plane for the flight back to Kansas City and the Columbian went to his quarters where the new replacement slave awaited him, now freshly douched and oiled, and wantonly spread across a bed submissively awaiting usage by his new master. By the time the Slaveco plane touched down at the Kansas City airport, the black slave in the Columbian's bed had been fucked so many times he could barely move and cum was pouring out of his ass, his mouth, and was all over his shiny hairless body.

When Stud was back in the cages of the "Midwest U.S. Studs" pen, he almost felt nostalgic, but dreaded whatever awaited him since "retraining" was legendary in its harshness. But he didn't have long to wait.

"Since you won't breed, there's no use keeping your seed flowing," the handler announced. "We've scheduled you for a vasectomy as soon as the surgeon is free."

Stud reflected he'd never have a son or daughter but then broke into a big smile. This probably meant he would not be sent on to the rendering plant. He knew they wouldn't bother burning his seminal tubes shut just to then harvest his body contents.

"If you're no good as a breeding stud, the marketing people have decided to try and sell you as a mistress' 'no worry' pleasure boy. Once you're fixed, your new owner doesn't have to worry about ever getting knocked up by her bed buck no matter how careless you are about not shooting off when you're fucking her. Almost all bucks sold to a mistress currently have been fixed - only makes sense. No mistress wants to go through having to terminate an unwanted pregnancy due to some slaveboy not paying attention to what he is doing."

Stud was vasectomized within the hour and was milked periodically and had his output sent to the pen's lab over the next two weeks to make sure he was truly infertile now. During that time, he was fed huge quantities of food to build his weight back up and exercised vigorously to make sure that nourishing food was being turned into solid muscle. Within a month, he was back up to his normal weight, his physique looked as good as ever, and despite the daily milkings, he was showing hard a good deal of the time again. At that time, he was placed up for sale, this time certified sterile and perfectly trained for a mistress' pleasure.

Within a few days, after much fondling and endless inspections, he was bought by a brothel in Berlin catering to females where his black skin would be a distinct novelty among their many offerings. There he remains to this day, satisfying his clients faultlessly and making his owner's happy with their long-term investment. The report claimed he had never given the brothel manager or any of the brothel customers one iota of trouble, always meeting their wishes without hesitation and to the best of his ability.

When finishing the long report, Archibald Nelson smiled to himself. Slaveco had sold Stud to the German brothel for even more than the replacement slave sent to the Columbian had cost the firm originally so nothing was lost outside of some transportation costs and an agent's time.

But Stud had made his point. Even slaves could refuse some things occasionally and get by with it, especially if the holding company could figure out a way not to needlessly lose money proving a point. Stud had said he wouldn't breed new slaves for the market and he wasn't. He was doing everything short of that without objection, but, then, he always had. Archibald smiled at how good management could make money out of a stubborn slave that wouldn't give in on some stupid point about slaves not being "bred like other animals." He wondered where Stud had ever gotten such a dumb notion to start with and, now that he was fucking on command around the clock, whether he still maintained such a silly idea. He laughed inwardly as he wondered how many other slaves right here in the pens now harbored that or equally ridiculous sentiments. No matter! Slaveco would always find a solution - and a profitable one at that!


Mr. Nelson could hardly wait to delve into the next report on a slave he had enjoyed, Rosco. Rosco had been sold to a tribal chief living right on the Yemeni-Saudi Arabian border who claimed citizenship in both countries. The new owner's goal was to use Rosco as a 'display slave' to impress those under his rule and Rosco's white skin was the big appeal in that it was most fashionable in that part of the world now to have an American white on your leash for both public display as well as pleasuring you in your bed. Rosco fit the bill and brought a good price.

The follow-up report stated that Rosco had quickly adjusted to being displayed nude in public frequently, had not objected when fitted with a new, very thick slave collar, large 3" rings in both tits, and an even thicker band around his genitals so his large organs protruded out and away from his body about as far as possible. Even the new nose ring, which was used to leash him as much as his tit rings, his collar, and his genital band, was accepted without any noticeable objection. In his new master's bed, he performed faultlessly, never once objecting to being fucked (usually on his hands and knees with his legs spread wide apart), to sucking his master (usually on his knees with his mouth opened as wide as possible so he could swallow his master's organ all the way down his throat), or letting the master play with his ringed tits, his balls, his prick, and running his hands all over his shaved body. He never objected and cooperated fully with the use of his body by any of the numerous people his master loaned him to. Nor did he show any reservations in being fondled by the public when being displayed in public alongside his master.

But there was one problem. His creamy white skin simply couldn't take the sun when being displayed outside despite the many sun screens and creams applied to his hide before each outing. After such an outing, he typically returned to his master's palace bright red and patchy with burn marks on his naked hide. At first, it was thought the white slave's skin would eventually acclimate to the searing rays of the intense sun, but it never did. There were limited solutions: (1) keep him inside the palace, which defeated the purpose of publicly displaying him; (2) cloth him, which was unacceptable for a slave in that part of the world; (3) sell him to a local brothel where he would never leave the bed he was chained to; or (4) trade him in for a white slave who would tan properly and not burn when out of doors.

The last option was the one chosen and soon Rosco was headed back to Kansas City in a cage stowed in the baggage compartment of a commercial jet flight. The chief, who was willing to make the long trip so he could pick the replacement slave out personally, got full purchase price applied to any new purchase (that was the same or higher price) as part of Slaveco's guarantee.

The Saudi chief selected a white slave with tawny skin, darkly tanned already, who had green eyes and blond hair to announce he was 100% white despite his light brown skin. The new slave was muscular and well built, but only about 5'8" tall. He had a very thick, muscular neck and shoulders, huge pecs with big tits on him, a tiny waist featuring a washboard stomach, and a very large manhood set above very powerful thighs. A beautiful athletic butt set the whole package off quite nicely. Best of all, his face was outstandingly handsome and the green eyes were simply dazzling in their brightness. When being displayed before the chief for his examination, the white slave quickly became erect, the naked display itself being erotic to the slave. The new slave, a little younger than Rosco, cost a good 130% of Rosco's original selling price, but the chief was happy enough to pay the difference, especially when Slaveco offered to pick up the tab for all transportation costs of both the purchase and the customer both ways for the chief's "inconvenience." Before the new slave was caged for shipment to the chief's desert kingdom, he was fitted right in the pens with a new "display" collar with leash attachments, 3" rings in both tits, a tighter, thicker band around his large genitals (which would take some getting used to), and a nose ring fitted through his septum large enough to easily clip a leash to and which hung down over his upper lip attractively. Once completely flushed out for cage shipment, the Chief and his new slave were back in Arabia within 48 hours.

The report went on that the replacement slave suffered no sun burn problems no matter how long his master paraded him around outdoors in the unrelenting sun on his leash, and that his sexual duties were handled to his owner's total satisfaction. Within a month, the slave's white origins were only revealed by his bright green eyes and his blond hair, now bleached even lighter by the intense sun. His skin was now as dark as most mulatto slaves, but his master didn't mind in that snowy white-skinned slaves seemed totally impractical in his country if you ever wanted to take them out of the palace to show them off. Besides, the owner reported, this slave seemed to suck even better than the one he replaced.

Rosco, back in Slaveco's Kansas City pens, took a lot of lotion and time in his cage before all the sunburn was gone and his skin got back to normal. In the interim, the handlers had his nose ring removed, had his 3" tit rings replaced with the more standard 2" rings, and fitted him with a thinner genital band that didn't actually stretch his organs at all times, but still forced a nice showy protrusion. The tall collar the Arab chief had fastened around his neck was replaced with the standard slave issue so that he could now lower his head in the submissive position most buyers preferred. Once presentable again, he was again being shown to potential buyers and again had his body fondled, poked, prodded, and stroked throughout the day.

But, within days after first being marketed again, a black man in his early 40s bought him, not for himself, but as a high school graduation gift for his 18-year-old son. Thus, Rosco was now owned by a master younger than himself who was delighted with the gift and set new standards of how frequently slaves could be put to sexual usage. Rosco not only took care of the lusty master's own needs, but also those of all his friends who didn't own any slaves themselves, of his friends who owned slaves but not a white one, and even of his father, the gift giver, who liked any well trained slave younger than he was. Rosco even found himself being loaned out for sexual usage when his master didn't have the money to buy gas for his car and a barter (his body's use for a tankful of gas) could be arranged, couldn't pay for a rock concert ticket (his body's use in trade for a good seat at the concert), or even a snort (his body's use for a packet of good quality marijuana). But Rosco's purchaser was satisfied, as was the son, and Rosco was still in that happy household.

Mr. Archibald Nelson again smiled inwardly, thinking back to the times he had the slave Rosco in his own bed. Even in those early days of Rosco's enslavement, the boy had proved to be compliant, eager to please, and rather unabashed by all the use he was being put to. Judging from the report, the slave seemed settled in with his young black owner and the owner himself certainly seemed satisfied. Mr. Nelson reflected on how wise Slaveco was to arrange a easy trade for the Saudi customer and had actually made considerable money on the transactions in that the black man buying Rosco for his teen-age son ended up paying much more than the original price Rosco had brought. But he couldn't help wondering what this slave thought of having a master younger than he was, especially one who traded you off occasionally for a tank of gas or a ticket to a rock concert. He tried to imagine the humiliation that must be involved in such a circumstance, but then quickly dismissed it. First, slaves probably never have the same feelings as a free man - that was knocked out of them in their earliest training. Second, what he thought of as humiliating was probably nothing of the sort to a slave - that too was a luxury a slave couldn't afford.


Three more recent sales interested Mr. Archibald Nelson - the three blacks that had been caged together for a while before being sold. As he remembered, one was coal black, one was a cocoa brown, and one was a "high yeller" octoroon. They had been caged together as a trio to demonstrate the range of colors a purchaser could choose from when he wanted a "black" slave for whatever reason. Mr. Nelson checked down the list until he spotted their reports.

The jet-black slave, who had started his slavery in the mines and then came to his overseer's attention due to his handsome good looks and huge sexual organs, eventually ending up for re-sale in the Slaveco's pens, had been sold to a white master who owned a huge private estate in upstate New York. There, he had joined the master's harem of four other male slaves, each a different hide color: white, octoroon, quadroon, mulatto, and now a full black. The report said he was fucked frequently by both his master and numerous house guests as well as many business associates. He had proved to be skilled in arranging "entertainments" for the master and his guests featuring him and others in the harem in every conceivable sexual act. He got alone well with the other harem slaves and had never caused any problems whatsoever. He had proven totally satisfactory and his owner was completely satisfied with his new property.

The cocoa-colored slave in that same original cage was now in a Houston resort catering to oil barons where everything possible with a slave's body was offered with no reservations. Inbetween his sexual duties, the cocoa-colored property did gardening, pool maintenance, and waiting tables, always in the nude and always with a full hard-on. There had never been a customer complaint made about him - in contrast - the management had received numerous compliments on his performance. They had no second thoughts about purchasing the boy and would rate him as "excellent" in their evaluation in his position as their property with another "excellent" evaluation for his sexual performance. They even reported that when customers frequently referred to him as "whore," as they did most anonymous slaves at the resort, the property seemed to take great pride in that designation and usually showed ever harder in response.

The light-colored "yeller" slave had been sold to a New York City businessman as a houseboy. Once installed in his new owner's apartment, he was stripped naked (staying that way unless he was taken to some rare public event that restricted nude displays of slaves), fitted with a shiny new gold collar, matching gold tit rings and genital band, and had his nose ring removed (his new owner didn't like the look of it). He did add a gold ear ring (suitable for leashing) in his left ear so he still had four options in leashing the slave when he wanted: collar, tit ring, genital band, and ear ring. The light-skinned slave had proven totally satisfactory in his master's bed fulfilling every desire with alacrity. He performed just as well with his master's business associates to whom he was frequently loaned, no matter how old they were or what they looked like. The slave flattered all of them appropriately and performed faultlessly no matter what they asked of him. His owner wrote on the report "congratulations on producing a truly professional whore at a reasonable price. I'll make sure I buy any future slaves from your firm and will recommend you to others."

Mr. Nelson reflected on all how three slaves are turned out to be most satisfactory products and a credit to the Slaveco name and reputation. Perhaps caging the three together, rather than the orthodox individual caging, had been a learning experience for all three slaves. Wasn't it possible slaves could learn from each other even better than from professional trainers? He'd overheard the three black slaves talking to each other in their cage once when they didn't realize they were being overheard and they thought the handlers were gone. He remembered them telling each other it was better to be a whore than working in the mines or on a road construction crew like most slaves. He also remembered them telling each other they should make every effort to please whoever uses their body, no matter what they wanted. An owner had to be totally satisfied if the slave was to "earn his keep." Archibald Nelson made a mental note to suggest to his superiors that they might consider caging slaves together in the future to test out his hypothesis. Why, they might even find they could crowd two or three in a cage and up their capacity to 2000 to 3000 and gain additional effective training in the process. Now that would be worth a real bonus!


The "zoo" idea taken back from Columbia by the Slaveco agent was duly reviewed by the appropriate committee and was enthusiastically approved. Shortly after the approval filtered down from the top, a "zoo" exhibit was set up in the pens most frequented by Middle Eastern buyers, i.e., pens featuring large number of attractive and showy white slaves.

Each exhibit featured a variety of light colored slaves in a zoo-like setting behind bars where the zoo inhabitants displayed all parts of their bodies and frequently engaged in various sexual acts for the amusement of those viewing them. Visitors were encouraged to enter the enclosures where they could "pet" the animals as well as use them sexually any way they wanted. Signs suggested such a small petting zoo was possible right at their own estates for a surprisingly low cost, listing estimated prices for a zoo containing 2, 3, 4, 5, or 6 animals, white or black according to the owner's preference and all muted to even more resemble animals.

Sales of such zoo ensembles shot through the roof. Most choose at least 4 animals for exhibit and most Middle Easterners preferenced white animals. But the idea also appealed to buyers from many other parts of the world, especially Europeans, Australians, and Americans, the only difference being they typically stocked their zoos with silenced black animals. Due to the new fad, slave sales overall skyrocketed at the Kansas City International Slave Mart. Naturally, most zoo sales consumed the pricier stock - slaves that were well built, well hung, and handsome. A few buyers expanded the idea to female slaves, or with a mixture of male and female animals in the zoo. Overall, profits at Slaveco zoomed, since the high priced slaves carried a higher profit margin.

The agent who carried this idea back from the Columbia drug lord was awarded a bonus equal to several years regular pay - a true bonanza. Even honoring his pledge to buy the Columbian customer a high-priced sleek Australian slave, he still was left with money to burn. Since his own purchases, as a Slaveco employee, were discounted, he decided now was the perfect time to fulfill a lifelong dream - owning a slave of his own. Therefore, he headed for the "Australian and Canadian Men" pen, credit card in hand.

His first purchase that day was the gift for the Columbian customer, who had stated he would like a young, well-hung Australian boy of premium quality. After poking around the pen for awhile, he spotted a couple of slaves warranting a closer inspection.

The first was 6'2", very muscular, with dark wavy hair, deep black eyes, and a creamy tanned complexion well revealed by a fresh body shave. But the heavy 5 o'clock shadow on his face and the slight stubble on his pubes and chest suggested he was one hairy bastard without the razor. But clean shaven as he was, his impressive manly equipment was fully revealed, including a large lockable ring pierced through the foreskin of an uncircumcized prick, something you didn't often see in slave markets today not specializing in draft slaves where control was everything. Obviously, his previous owner had wanted his slave's sex life rigidly controlled and the ring would certainly do that. The fact it was easily unlocked and easily removed told the agent the slave so infilbrated probably got to use his prick often enough, but only at his master's or mistress' discretion. If an owner wanted a really hairy slave, all you had to do was put up your razor for a day or two and you'd have one hairy ape available. The slave featured very puffy pecs, large nipples (still unringed), an unusually thin muscle-defined waist considering his chest and hip measurements, and genitals that hung freely since no genital band had been installed.

The agent asked for the penis ring to be removed and the handler promptly produced the appropriate key and slid the ring through the foreskin. The slave became erect almost instantly with pre-cum appearing on the end of the now exposed crown of his penis. Apparently, he had been ringed for some time to get a quick response like that. The agent cupped the slave's testicles to ascertain their firmness, stoked the slave's nipples until they were erect and full-sized, and squeezed the huge pecs to test for muscularity vs. fat. The agent then checked the slave's teeth, his eyes, his ears, and the tightness of his anal canal as the boy patiently stood there with full cooperation in this minute inspection of his body. Finally, the agent asked the handler for the usual paper cup and proceeded to stroke the boy until he had milked out a full load, observing length of time until full eruption, thickness of the output, quality, and, of course, taste. Throughout the examination, the slave made no visible signs of protest, cooperated in every way (even when the agent was fishing around in his mouth and probing his ass hole), and kept a nice smile on his face, especially when being pumped rather roughly in his milking. The agent patted the slave on his rump was a signal he was through milking him as he tipped the cup and swallowed down all of the slave's output.

"Were you used by a man before you were enslaved?" the agent inquired.

"Er. Er. No.. Master," the slave answered, hesitantly, not quite sure what the potential purchaser was getting at.

"Well, enough men are fucking you now, slave," the agent chuckled. "Have you learned to like it yet?"

The slave blushed and stared straight ahead, fearful of saying the wrong thing and blotching up his potential sale. He struggled for an appropriate answer.

"Master, a slave does whatever a master wants. It's not a matter of whether the slave likes it or not. It is what the master wants that matters," the slave replied with his eyes now lowered to demonstrate his submission.

"Well stated, slave," the agent laughed. Even the handler chuckled at the slave's response. "But, you didn't answer my question, slave," the agent said sternly. "Answer my question now."

"Yes, master," the slave replied instantly. "I can't say I really like it, master, .. Well, a lot more than at first... but, master, you get .... used ... to it. Master... it's better than no sex at all... and, for a slave.... that's usually the alternative.. ... at least, master.. for this slave so far." Knowing he was not giving a satisfactory answer, he blurted out, "Master, I like being fucked by a man a lot better than having no sex at all. But, still, Master, it's not up to a slave to decide that sort of thing. But, anymore, I don't really mind being fucked too much. Lately, now that I'm used to it, I don't mind it and usually like it if they're not too rough with me, master."

"A reasonable answer, slave," the agent said. "A slave shouldn't care who fucks him.... he should just be grateful someone still wants to fuck him."

"Exactly," the handler, who prided himself on fucking every single slave in the pens, agreed.

"What's the background on this boy?" the agent asked.

"Enslaved at age 20 for desertion from the Army during the conflict in Timor according to the papers with him," the handler said. "Slavery is a pretty soft sentence for cowardice if you ask me, sir, but those liberal Australian courts are so lenient nowadays, at least compared to those in the States now that the conservatives are running things."

"Yes, the slave could never complain lucking out like that," the agent agreed. "But it does seem the courts would have restricted his sale to the mines or medical experimentation or weapons testing for a crime like that."

"Nevertheless, the slave's obviously premium goods," the agent announced to the handler, "but I want to look another one over before I decide."

The handler motioned for the slave to present himself for reinstallation of his penis ring. The boy instantly thrust his pelvis out for easy handling and the handler slid the ring back through the foreskin and locked it in place. He then motioned for the slave to get back in his cage, who tried to mask his disappointment the agent wasn't buying him then and there.

"Which cage, sir?" the handler asked.

"Down the aisle and to the right," the agent instructed. "He's in cage 562, I believe."

The agent and the handler moved down the aisle to the cage where the agent's other choice was located. With one turn of the lock, the cage door swung open and the slave was out in the aisle, presenting himself nicely with his legs wide apart, his hands in back of his slave collar, and with his chest and pelvis thrust out ease of handling. The slave's eyes were straight ahead so his face was on full display, a rugged face outlined by a small pencil line beard and highlighted by bright blue eyes. The slave's head hair was brown in tight curls and, although his body had been freshly shaved, it was obvious from the lack of any stubble, the slave really didn't have much body hair outside of his pubes and his pits and practically no where else outside just a little on his thighs and forearms. He looked to be no more than 18 years old, was muscular, but not excessive in that area, was no more than average in height (about 5"9") and had little body fat on him. He did have impressive pecs, however, a muscular but not thin waist, a nice taut butt, and had equipment on him he was proud to display, putting many of the other slaves in the pen to shame. He was neatly circumcised, had large plump balls hanging close to his body, and, now that someone was looking at him, had a full erection.

"This one runs a little more than the slave you were just looking at," the handler said, "since he's just a little younger and so well hung. Of course, that other one was better if you want them hairy, or like a tall boy, and that penis ring makes damn sure he'll only be showing hard or shooting off when you decide. I've fucked both of them and both of them have sucked me off. They're about equal in satisfying a man sexually in my opinion."

"Get me a cup," the agent told the handler," while I check out the slave's hole."

The agent checked out the slave's teeth, his ears, his tits (which were still unringed), his ball sac (which had not been banded yet), and finally, ran his finger as deep up the slave's hole as he could and wiggled it around a bit.

"How much has this boy been fucked?" the agent asked the handler. "He seems awfully loose for a boy as young as he is."

"Probably quite a bit, sir," the handler replied. "I understand he was the only slave on some sheep ranch out in the Outback and you know what those ranch hands are like out there with no women around. Since he's been in the pens here, every handler in the place has been in him - I imagine it's that look of innocence he's got that's so appealing, sir. But, if he was a slave on a sheep ranch, there's no way he could be innocent. My guess, sir, is that he was fucked from sundown to sunup each and every night out there."

"Has he been silenced?" the agent asked.

"No, sir. Not yet," the handler replied.

"Well, let's ask the slave then," the agent announced as he grabbed the slave's thick long penis and spoke directly to the boy.

"How many times you been fucked, slave?" the agent asked as he squeezed the boy's shaft.

"Too many to count, master," the slave laughed.

"Go on, slave," the agent instructed the slave.

"Here in the pens, it's like the handler here says, master. Every handler in the place has fucked me, I think, so it's generally five or six times a day, master. At my previous owner's place in the Outback, all the ranch hands used me at least once a night. There were seven of them altogether, so, master, I got fucked a lot."

"And how long were you a slave there, boy?" the agent probed, continuing to pump the slave's swollen shaft.

"Just a few months, master. I was enslaved when I was 17 and by the time I was trained and finally sold to the ranch owner, I was almost 18 before I was put to regular use, master."

"And just why were you enslaved, boy?" the agent continued.

"I was the lead player on my high school's soccer team and I threw the last game in return for a big payment from a gambling syndicate in Sydney. When my teammates squealed on me, the courts threw the book at me - enslavement for life plus a fine the same amount as my payment from the syndicate."

"An appropriate judgment," the agent said. "I hate cheaters."

"Yes, master, I'm lucky I wasn't executed which is what the school wanted."

"When you were being fucked by all those ranch hands, did you ever think the judge was a little hard on you?" the agent asked, bemused.

"No, master. Most people back in my hometown wanted me dead, including my parents."

With that the agent proceeded to pump the slave of a full load, sampled the output for taste, and slurped down in one gulp all that was left announcing it had a fresh, tangy taste. He then ordered the slave to his knees with his mouth open. The slave knew exactly what was expected and immediately pulled the zipper down on the agent's pants, extracted the agent's penis, and swallowed it clear down his throat in one gulp, a trick he had learned from the handlers since being in the pens. From there, he massaged the agent's prick with his throat muscles and swallowed the agent's load down his throat without spilling a drop. He then, with a nod from the agent, put the limp penis back into the pants and zipped the fly shut as he profusely thanked the agent for using him.

The agent turned to the handler and said, "I'll take him. I like a slave who knows he deserves to be slave and is lucky to be one. That loose hole of his will tighten up with the proper exercises and a little less usage each day. And his sucking skills are excellent."

"And the other slave you examined?" the handler asked hopefully.

"I'll take him too. I intended to buy two slaves today. This one for myself; the other one with a ring through his penis is going to be a gift."

"Yes, sir," the handler responded enthusiastically. "It isn't too often we sell two at once, but... sir... aren't you going to try the slaves out first? I've never known a buyer closing the deal without at least having the potential purchase suck him off... of course, most fuck them before deciding anything, sir."

There was an eerie silence in the entire section of the pen despite the fact many of the caged slaves had their vocal chords severed. Unmuted slaves were generally forbidden to speak until directly told to do so and were beaten mercilessly if they violated that rule until most were actually scared to speak at all. But, over and above that, there were usually some sounds from the cages: grunts and groans from the butt plugs placed well up into their bodies, sighs of desperation, muted sobs of despair, muffled moans from a recent whipping, whimpers of fear when a handler slowed down in front of their cage, or even a murmur of anticipation when a potential buyer paused in front of their cage and actually looked at them, however briefly. But the silence now was even quieter as every slave within hearing range strained to hear the buyer's response to the handler's question.

"I'm not in the mood right now, especially with two slaves. Slaveco guarantees its stock. If they don't suck and take a fuck well when I get around to it, I'll bring them right back and demand my money back. But I'm hardy so hard up I can't wait until I get my purchases to their new home before I bed them now."

"Of course not, sir," the handler quickly apologized. "I didn't mean to imply anything... it's just that most customers do want to test the goods out sexually before they finalize the sale. If you want to do that later, that's your business, of course, sir. I was thought you had forgotten about it, or perhaps thought it was too forward, sir."

"I work for Slaveco," the agent laughed. "I know all about putting slaves through their hoops, handler."

"Again, my apologies, sir. I just meant to look after your best interests, sir."

"Arrange to have this boy's tits ringed with standard 2" brass rings, his neck fitted with a tight 3" brass collar, a snug thick brass ring around his big package so it really sticks out nice and prominent, and I'd like a 2" brass nose ring installed before I leave. The other slave I want fitted with the same type of collar, the same type of tit rings, and the same type of genital band around his package. But no nose ring on that one and leave the penile ring in place. I think who I'm giving him to will like the idea of being in total control of his sex life and that ring will guarantee that. Besides, I don't think he has a slave fitted with a ring like that yet - he'll like the novelty of it and, if he doesn't like it, it's easy enough to remove. Then he could trim the slave properly if he wanted. I just don't like the look of an untrimmed prick on a slave myself, but, each to their own. It's their property, after all."

"We can do the fittings right here in the pen within the hour, sir, but there will be a slight extra charge," the handler said.

"Of course. Just add it to the final bill which I will pay by credit card. And don't forget I'll need the key for the one slave's penile ring."

"Yes, sir," the handler said, happy to empty out two more cages although he would miss fucking each of them whenever he had a chance. Oh well, something even better might soon fill those same cages. One huge side benefit of having this job, he thought to himself, was he always had plenty to choose from whenever he felt horny.

"Your job must be like living in one big whore house," the agent commented, showing his Slaveco discount card to the handler.

"Yes sir, but I see I don't need to tell you about the advantages of being a Slaveco employee."

"No, but I've always wanted a slave of my very own, despite having all this flesh available to me any time I want."

"I can understand that, sir," the agent responded. "I'm saving up so I can have sex in my free time, not just when I'm working," he laughed. "There's just something special about actually owning outright a slave of your own."

Once home with his two new slaves, the agent did put the tall slave with the penile ring through his paces, finding the slave excellent in sucking skills and highly refined in offering his ass up for a good fucking. The slave was obviously very well trained for his sex duties and seemed to have a good attitude about being used in this way. The agent knew he the Columbian drug lord would be delighted with this gift, especially since he would come in absolutely free and probably unexpected. He said he wanted a young, sleek Australian white boy and that's exactly what he was going to get. The penile ring would be a nice novelty that would just set this gift over the edge.

The younger Australian for his own use wasn't called to his bed. He had decided the boy needed a long rest from his sexual obligations before he would really enjoy him. Right now, he was overfucked and sexually exhausted. At few weeks rest, some therapeutic exercises, and he figured that ass would have tightened back up, his prick and balls wouldn't be so sore from all the handling it had been getting, and his tits wouldn't be so inflamed he could handle someone playing with them without flinching. Between the ranch hands and the pen handlers, the slave was plain tuckered out! But young as he was, he'd recover fast and Lord knows he was eager enough to get a new master and out of the pens. The agent felt sure he'd made a wise choice when it came to picking out a nice piece of slavemeat.


The agent didn't bother making the long trip to Columbia. Instead, when the Slaveco plane was dispatched to pick up the drug lord's fresh crop off of his breeding farm, the agent had sent his gift down in a special cage festooned with a colorful gift ribbon and a card attached.

"Slaveco bought your idea about selling the "zoo" concept to other buyers and it has proven most successful. Out of the big bonus I received, I was able to buy you the young, sleek, muscular Aussie stud I promised, complete with a nice ring through his thick dick (the key for the locked ring is taped to the backside of this card). He sucks beautifully, takes a good fucking with enthusiasm, and with that ring controlling his sex life, he's fun to play with. Enjoy this nice, white stud and thanks for the great idea."

The agent got back a thank you note, sent on the Slaveco plane delivering the new batch of bred Columbian slaves to the pens in Kansas City.

"Good of you to remember me and my little zoo (now with one more animal in it) down here in Columbia. The Aussie slave is delightful in bed and that ring keeps him horny (but very frustrated) most of the time. The staff here love him, so I've decided to have a small lottery among my best salesmen. Winner gets the Aussie, along with his key! Thanks again and you're always welcome down here at my estate. Stay as long as you like so you can enjoy the zoo animals. Next time, you might want to visit my breeding farm. A modest operation, but always interesting. Your friend."

The agent had been right about the slave purchase for himself. After a full month's rest, the young Australian slave's hole had regained its tightness without losing the plasticity a lot of use allowed, his tits were malleable without having lost their sensitivity, and his prick was no longer sore and calloused from overhandling. The slave seemed to like to get fucked, swallowed a prick down easily before churning it with his throat muscles expertly, and seemed eager to please no matter what was asked of him. The handsome slave was especially adept in suggesting a user just lay down on his back and relax while he sucked him almost to eruption, then lowering his ass on the quivering shaft until it was fully embedded in him, and then bucking his body up and down on the buried prick until his user found complete satisfaction with no work on his part whatsoever. All of this was accomplished with a big smile on the slave's face and with his large ringed nipples thrust out so his user could easily play with them if he was so inclined. When he paraded the young Aussie down the street for a little walk or while shopping, leashed generally by his genital ring, he enjoyed all the compliments he received on the boy's handsome looks, his large, usually semi-erect prick, and his muscular physique. His youth and good health made his skin literally glow, especially when he was oiled down before being displayed.

Before long, during these walks, he was receiving many inquiries as to whether he might be interested in renting the boy out now and then for an appropriate fee. He thought about it for a week or so and then decided he would on nights he wasn't planning to use the slave himself. Business grew and soon the boy had at least one client scheduled for a short time each available night. The agent quickly figured out the fees would reimburse him for what the boy cost within a year. A damn fine investment, considering he still got to use the boy whenever he wanted. He was amazed how many people there were in Kansas City who didn't own their own slave yet and were eager to rent one until they could save up enough to buy one for themselves. Well, as they say, there were the "have's" and the "have-not's." No reason he shouldn't profit from the "have-not's" just as his employer Slaveco was profiting from the "have's".

But he was well aware of how the young slave had been seriously overused before and made sure the Aussie boy had no more than 10 fuckings a week up his once again tight ass and no more than an equal number of pricks to suck. He also made sure the slave got plenty of exercise to keep his body in perfect shape (including the special exercises to keep his ass muscles tight) and he was fed all the nutritious slave chow he wanted.

Of course, the slave was extremely grateful for such a considerate master and almost worshiped his owner. The agent, rather lonely in his life up to this point, took a liking to the slave boy well over and beyond the sexual satisfactions the boy offered and they often talked through the evenings on one topic or another. The agent was curious as to how the boy reacted to his slavery, his ideas about slavery in general, his responses to the sexual use of his body, and whether he ever wondered what it would be like if, somehow, he was free again.

The answers were curious, at least to the agent. The young slave thought slavery was a necessity in today's world and society in general was better by putting it in place. Crime had been reduced, prisons had been eliminated, welfare problems had been drastically reduced, and the economy was prospering since labor costs had been brought under control. True, slaves had nothing, but, then, most of them didn't have anything before they were enslaved and, at least, they no longer had the chronic worries about getting a job (unemployment had been rampant before slavery he had been told), most slaves got enough to eat whereas before he had heard there were hordes starving to death, and working as a slave, even under the whip, was a lot better than rotting in prison feeling totally worthless. Besides, he thought a lot of people, himself included, needed most decisions made for them and slavery shifted all decision making responsibilities to the masters and mistresses. He thought it was wonderful that euthanasia was practiced with slaves who couldn't earn their keep anymore: a quick death at the rendering plant was far more merciful than the lingering, agonizing deaths old, sick freemen often had to endure.

As to his own reactions, at first he had hated it: the total lack of any personal freedom, the projection he was no more than an animal, the wearing of restraints, the continual nudity, and being treated like he wasn't even there most of the time. But he got use to it over time, having lots of company since slaves were now in the majority. Over even more time, he started to enjoy the new freedom of never having to make decisions for himself, of eliminating the fear of making a wrong decision, and seeing the pride in an owner's eye just because they owned another human being. He also felt purposeful in that he fulfilled a function in his owner's lives, even if it was just acting as a receptacle for his master's lust or a sexual plaything for a hungry mistress.

As to the sexual demands on most handsome slaves, it really wasn't anything new to those who had a nice appealing body - it was just in a different form. Owners demanded sexual satisfaction from their property, but pretty boys, like himself, had been seduced, coerced, and abused for centuries, long before slavery was around. It seemed more straightforward and honest this way. Masters and mistresses bought their sexual pleasures now. They didn't trick or bribe people into providing the service like in the olden days.

Finally, once enslaved, he never looked back and dreamed of "what if," or "if I were freed miraculously," of "if society abandoned slavery as impractical or too much trouble" or anything like that. Slavery was here to stay, he was a slave for life, and that was that. He intended to make the most of it. He reminded me more and more slaves were bred to it, so such thoughts he had suggested would die out completely over time anyway. He saw a future where most of his colleagues would be products of breeding farms and never know of a different life than that as a slave. Only a few would be like him, living out a life sentence for wrongdoing.

I intended to hang on to this slave as long as I could!

Mr. Archibald Nelson was all hot and bothered again after studying Slaveco's sales follow-up report, remembering the slaves he had enjoyed himself prior to their sale and, within minutes, he had his erect prick clear down the throat of a strikingly handsome olive- skinned young slave, summoned from a nearby cage in the pens. The slave, he remembered, was from some small town in southern Missouri, was of Greek immigrant parentage, and had just recently been enslaved for shoplifting from a convenience store.

The report was certainly a success story for Slaveco. Almost all of their sales were so satisfactory there was no thought of returning them on Slaveco's guarantee. The few that had been returned were replaced to the customer's satisfaction and the returned goods had been re-channeled to turn a profit anyway. He especially enjoyed the hand written note scrawled at the bottom of the report: "Keep the good work up" and signed by the chief operations officer of the "Midwest U.S. Stud" pen. Such a notation practically guaranteed a nice raise on the next annual review.

The slave between his knees quickly drained him and, after playing with the boy's tits briefly, he was sent back to his cage, the slave's own prick hard and dripping as he savored the fresh load of cum now in his stomach. Nary a word had been exchanged between his user and himself but the slave was certain the man wasn't just another one of the pen's handlers.

Just then, the young slave heard a woman talking to one of the handlers. He overheard her asking to be shown some "very handsome, big-dicked boys trained for a woman's needs." Ten minutes later, he was in the small "demonstration room" mounted over the fairly young mistress showing her every way he knew possible why she should buy him for her pleasure. Thirty minutes later, he was being led out of the pen totally naked by his nipple leash, now the property of this same woman. It was the slave's dream come true - why, she had even allowed him to sexually relief himself when he had totally satisfied her first.

Archibald Nelson decided to take a stroll through some of the other pens nearby also owned and operated by Slaveco. As he left, the recognized the slave just recently between his legs, now following a big-boned middle-aged woman by a leash attached to one of his nipple rings. He saw the handsome slave was no longer erect and thought (incorrectly) the woman must have milked her new purchase to test the quantity and quality of his output. The slave recognized his last male user and smiled happily as he gave a little good-bye with a pursing of his lips.

Archibald ended up at the "South American Mixed" pen, a facility he hadn't paid much attention to before and which had sales at the very bottom of the 21 pens Slaveco operated. The pen was physically like all the others: clean, neat cages lined up on both sides of well-lighted central aisles, plenty of guards and handlers in evidence, each with whips and stun guns in hand, and well-ventilated so there was no noticeable animal smell so overwhelming in less well-run slaveyards.

The caged slaves themselves appeared to be scrubbed clean, were body shaved, properly collared and ringed, and looked to be healthy and in good physical shape. They had either been muted or had received good voice control training - nary a sound was heard outside of some whips cracking in the background, an occasional scream from some corrective action from a handler, the gasps of slaves being milked or fucked as part of their training or a customer's examination, or the slurping sounds of a slave sucking on command. Just the usual sounds of any slave pen.

But it didn't take Archibald Nelson, well experienced in the business, from ascertaining what the problem was in this particular pen. The stock offered was simply chaotic in its variety. First, there were males and females seemingly randomly distributed. Second, among both sexes, there was every shade of skin imaginable: everything from pure blooded blacks of original African origin to mestizos ranging from dark brown to light tan to those of obvious European stock, some of whom were an almost pasty white. Physique and musculature went the whole range - the super muscular blacks with huge physiques to mestizos who couldn't possibly weight over 100 pounds dripping wet with scrawny frames and stringy muscles to nicely built, but "just average" European stock who ran the gamut from very handsome to downright ugly. Sexual equipment ranged, on the males, from the long thick organs of the blacks to the stubby little pricks of a few of the Europeans; for the females, the huge full breasts of the blacks to the flat-chested Europeans to the big, but pendulous breasts of the mestizos. True, a careful buyer might find what he or she was looking for whether it was a big black brutish-looking stud or a petite European white-skinned house maid. But finding what you wanted would take patience and time. About all the cage occupants had in common was that they all spoke Spanish (or Portuguese if they had been shipped in from Brazil, as many of the pure blacks had) if they could still speak at all.

The white offerings seemed to have either been bought from prisons throughout South America or had been bred for market at specialized farms, mainly located in Argentina or Uruguay. It was easy to tell the difference between the two sources. The prisoners weren't very good looking, usually had average or below sexual equipment, and, although 100% obedient now, were still surly looking. The bred whites were noticeably handsome, generally sported laudable sexual equipment, and were almost obsequious in their cheerfulness. Background does show, Archibald Nelson thought to himself.

The mestizos were as mixed as their blood. Most were court sentences, parental sales, or bought from slave catchers. Some were cute, some handsome, some vixen-looking, some brutal looking, some sullen with a distant look in their eye. A few were bred at special farms and, generally, with better results. But most weren't and had obviously been broken to their slavery with a heavy whip and unbridled use of the electric prod. Now they were properly subservient, obeyed every command without hesitation, and were properly slave-mannered, but had lost their spirit and spontaneity in the process. The best part about them was their price: dirt cheap.

The black slaves offered were the most consistent. Most brought to this pen were pure- blooded blacks and hence avoided the mongrelization of the mestizos. All blacks were big, muscular, heavy-hung, and well suited to the physical demands of slavery. If you liked shiny black skin, the males were all at least semi-erect and dripping, and didn't seem adverse to being put to sexual use by either a mistress or a master. The black female offerings were all big breasted with wide hips and prominent vulvas that were highlighted by their swollen bellies - all were being sold pregnant to demonstrate their fecundity with guarantees the baby within them was a pure black also. Almost all of the blacks had been bred, as they had been for generations in South America. Most were also from Brazil, where pure blooded blacks were a speciality of the many breeding farms located there.

Mr. Nelson looked a few offerings over out of curiosity. A handsome white male caught his eye who happened to be well hung and quite muscular. His papers said he was 21, had been an Argentine prisoner sold off in their annual clearance, and had been imprisoned for selling himself as a street prostitute without a license. The handler pointed out he would make a good pleasure slave for a master, having on his own gathered up much experience in this area, and obviously not minding a master using his body.

"He's probably make a good buy for a male bordello," the handler suggested, "if you wanted him as an investment more than a plaything for your own amusement."

Mr. Nelson noted the slave seemed to be used to being fondled, and sported a nice erection and an eager look with just the slightest handling.

Next, he looked at a mestizo male who they claimed was 17 and purchased from a breeding farm in Equador. The boy sported a long, thick circumcised prick, big plump balls, a nice muscular frame and beautiful green eyes, jet black rather fine hair for someone with a little Indian blood in them, and skin a yellowy brown color that wasn't patchy, as some mestizos were. He had already been genitally banded to show off his nice equipment, had rings in both tits highlighting his sculptured pecs, a tall collar which forced his head upright at all times, and, best yet, a thick ring through his nose, giving him a nicely controlled, but somewhat animalistic look.

"The breeders have done a good job with this one," Mr. Nelson said to the handler, and made a mental note to check into Ecuadorean breeding farms in his future research. The price on this slave was about right, he thought. Not cheap, but not expensive either.

"This one should sell with little difficulty," Mr. Nelson commented to the handler.

"That's what I thought," the handler replied as he reached down and stroked the slave to a full erection. "But he's been caged here for a month now and no one's made an offer. Mestizos, even the nice looking ones like this boy, just aren't much in demand currently it seems. At this rate, this boy could spend the rest of his life in that little cage just getting fucked by us handlers," he laughed.

"Not much profit in that," I mumbled. "He's depreciating every day he's locked up in that cage," I added.

"That's exactly what the last Slaveco report on this pen said," the handler agreed. "I like to fuck this boy, but not that much. We handlers always have a good choice, so who or what doesn't much matter. But we all know the pen has to turn a good profit or we're out of a job. You seem to know what you're talking about when it comes to the slave business. If you have any good ideas, we'd all be beholden if you'd share them with the pen's chief manager. He's really sweating it with sales down like they are."

"I may just do that," Mr. Nelson replied. "I'm a procurement officer for Slaveco and might get a nice bonus if I could help solve a Slaveco-related problem. I saw this pen ranked dead bottom in profits on the last monthly report."

"That's true. But I can't figure out what the problem is. We try to keep the stock clean and presentable and I haven't noticed any problem with them presenting themselves to buyers. They appear to be cooperative and willing and are probably as eager to get out of their cages and into the hands of a master or mistress as much as I am for them.

"Would you like someone to buy you?" Mr. Nelson asked the slave being inspected, now quivering in need from the handler's continued manipulation of his prick.

"Yes, master," the slave quickly replied as he struggled to keep from erupting in the handler's hand. "I've been caged here a long time, master, and," he started to tear up a bit, "it seems I don't appeal to anyone, master. So far, apparently no one wants to own this slave, master, even though I get lots of people looking me over. Is something wrong with how I'm showing myself, master? I'll do anything to find an owner, master. Anything," the slave pleaded with tears running down his cheeks as the handler finally stopped stroking him and patted him on the rump in sympathy.

"Cheer up, slave. Someone will snap you up before long, and, no, there is nothing wrong with your presentation. It's just that mestizo slaves aren't much in demand these days, something your breeders never anticipated when they had you fucked into being. It's nothing to do with you or your attitude, slave. I'd buy you myself if I didn't already have access to hundreds of slaves free anytime I want."

"Yes, master. Thank you, master," the slave replied sincerely. "May I make a suggestion, handler?" he added.

"Well. I don't know.. Slaves don't.." the handler said.

"Oh, let him blurt it out," Mr. Nelson urged.

"O.K., slave, spit out your slave talk," the handler allowed.

"Master, maybe you could bleach my skin until I looked white or dye it real black. That way I wouldn't look so mixed-blood and might sell better."

"Nice try," the handler chortled as Mr. Nelson doubled over in laughter.

"If Slaveco could do that, it'd be done by now, believe me," Mr. Nelson said. "But no one knows how to do that yet with any success. We could put you out in the sun and get you a real dark brown, but never really black. And black dye just doesn't last any time at all. And the only one I know who ever bleached himself white was Michael Jackson and he's not talking about the why's and how's of it."

"Put this boy back in his cage and let me look at a pure black next, if you don't mind," Mr. Nelson asked the handler.

"Remember to buy me if you ever decide to own a slave, sir," the mestizo made one last try as he headed back into his cage.

The black shown Mr. Nelson was 6'4" tall, weighed a good 260 pounds, and was solid muscle. He was fully ringed (tits, nose, and left ear), tightly banded around his very large genitals so he was exceptionally protrusive, and was fitted with a tall, heavy collar fitted rather loosely around his thick neck. He featured huge pectorals, a very thin, muscle-defined waist, and bulging thighs, butt, and calves. His skin was shiny, jet black and creamy smooth. His body was naturally hairless, but the small amounts of hair in his armpits and in his genital region had been permanently removed. His black kinky hair was trimmed to one inch height, he had no facial hair to start with, but his eyebrows were thick, curly, and long. He had high cheekbones, large jet black eyes with no yellow in them, , a prominent jaw line outlining a squarish face, a reasonably straight nose for a black, and lips not blubbery like some of his species. He was very masculine looking, reasonably handsome, and, with the nose ring so prominent, looked every bit the controllable sexual animal he was being marketed as.

"These blacks aren't all that expensive," the handler said. "I understand it's because the breeding farms in Brazil are turning them out at about the same rate they're selling at the markets. Makes a big black mighty easy to buy if you can afford to feed them. You can't believe, sir, how much chow these slaves put down."

Mr. Nelson kneaded the left ringed tit of the huge slave in display before him and then hefted the slave's large balls in the palm of his hand. They were so big they spilled out over his hand and he soon discovered it was a two handed operation to really examine them. He then played with the slave's tits some, large and rubbery after years of being ringed. They were still sensitive, though, and the slave moaned as the tits were squeezed and massaged. The slave's tits had grown around the ring itself, common among slaves who had been ringed early in their growing years. This was true of most bred slaves, being installed early to make the tit itself grow to about three times its normal size over the years. Finally, he stroked the slave's thick penis, heavy and throbbing by this time. The phallus was even hot to the touch, Mr. Nelson noted, as he pumped the large organ vigorously. The slave never moved as his organ was stoked, quite accustomed to being milked by this time.

"If a brothel doesn't buy him, I imagine he'll be sold as a stud to some breeding farm wanting some black blood in their products," Mr. Nelson announced.

"We've had quite a few mistresses looking him over, sir," the handler said. "But I get the feeling they're a little scared of him without a handler standing nearby, despite the nose ring. He's just so damn big."

"But big where it matters," Mr. Nelson laughed as he continued to stroke the huge organ. "And a mistress could fasten him to the bed board by his nose ring. He couldn't get too out of hand chained up like that, no matter what she was doing to him."

"I'll remember to make that suggestion to them," the handler replied gratefully. "In fact, I'll try it out myself the next time I bed down one of these big black boys. It sure would restrict how much they could move around without a lot of pain. Sounds like a great idea."

"How about a cup for this one," Mr. Nelson said as he continued pumping the organ. "I haven't tasted a pure black for a long while. Why, I've almost forgotten what they taste like."

The handler quickly produced a small paper cup from a nearby dispenser and handed it to the visiting procurement officer. It wasn't any too quick. Almost as soon as the cup was in place, the black shot off, quickly filling the cup to the brim with a thick cream so hot it was actually steaming a little. As he discharged, the black bucked in place a little and his body quivered slightly as spasm after spasm into the cup emptied his balls.

"Thank you, master," the black slave said in the little English he knew. His big black eyes reflected his gratitude at being drained.

"He hasn't been milked since yesterday when a mistress was looking him over. These blacks get all antsy if they're not milked regularly. If you buy one, you not only have a big feeding bill, but you have to make sure they get their balls emptied regularly. Either that or listen to them moaning around all the time when their balls are swollen or their tummy growling."

"All the big studs are that way, it seems. I don't think it's just because they're black," Mr. Nelson laughed. "They're just like a damn milk cow. They howl too when their udders are full and they're not milked daily. I guess studs get used to making lots of cream and, if it's not released regularly, they're just like those damn old milk cows."

"Hadn't thought of it that way, sir," the handler said. "Are you claiming if you tapered them down slowly to being milked just once a week or so, they'd be no different that just an ordinary male slave?"

"That's my guess," Mr. Nelson said with a big smile. "But I doubt most people buying them are much interested in cutting back on their output - quite the contrary I would think."

With that, Mr. Nelson thanked the handler for his patience and said he would put in some suggestions to management for improving sales that came to mind. With a nod of his head, the handler signaled for the big black to return to his cage which he promptly did. Once locked back inside the cage, the black slave figured out the English properly and pleaded to the departing visitor "Buy me, master."

"I'm not in the market, slave boy, but I'm pretty sure some master of mistress will want you for their bed soon. If not, probably a brothel. You won't be in that cage forever."

But the black didn't understand a word the man who had just milked him said. But he knew he wasn't going to be bought today.


That very evening, Mr. Archibald Nelson wrote out a list of suggestions for Slaveco concerning the "South American Mixed" pen. His preamble reviewed the pen's last place position in terms of sales and noted it was clean, airy, amply stocked, and appeared to be well managed. He stated when he had visited the pen and how long his visit was. He then literally listed his suggestions.

  1. The stock is a hodge-podge. Everything from white European stock (primarily from

Chile and Argentina) to mestizos bought off of breeding farms to pure-blood huge blacks

(primarily from Brazil). Suggestion: (1) send all white European stock to the European

pen where buyers looking for that stock are more likely to shop; (2) send all pure-blood

African stock to the African Men pen where those looking for big blacks are more likely

to shop; (3) mestizos should make up almost all stock, but they should not all be bred

stock; some stock formerly free would add appeal to the average shopper.

  1. The name of the pen should be changed from "South American Mixed" to "The Best of

South America" or "South American Favorites" to enhance customer appeal and to

better describe cage contents of the pen.

  1. Push mestizos as "the best of South America" and feature their versatility, endurance,

low cost, and Latino sexuality. Since South Americans are going to probably buy locally

(and at a lower cost), the pen's contents must be pitched primarily to North American,

European, Middle East, and Asian buyers.

  1. Mestizo slaves offered should have expanded training in English to appeal to a wide

market - at least to where they can understand a new owner's commands.

  1. Mestizo slaves should have expanded sex training so they could be sold as unusual dark

skinned sexual playthings to foreign buyers. Breeders of mestizo slaves should be

directed to decrease overall volume and to concentrate on improving the size of their

products' sexual organs, their musculature and body build, and handsome facial

features. In the interim, Slaveco procurers should limit purchase of mestizo slaves to

those already having these characteristics in abundance.

  1. Handlers already employed should be retained. They have best interests of Slaveco as a

priority and demonstrate excellent skills in handling slaves for best sales presentation.

Mr. Nelson knew if the list of suggestions was any longer, the Slaveco executives wouldn't read it. He carefully placed the list in an envelope and addressed it to the SlaveCo Suggestions Committee with his name, position, and date.

Within a week, he received a response from the Slaveco Suggestion Committee.

Dear Chief Procurer Nelson:

We have carefully reviewed you list of suggestions and find all of them excellent and in

the best interests of your employer. The Slaveco Suggeston Committee has decided to endorse

each of your suggestions and will make sure they are implemented as feasible over the next

several months.

If, as we strongly suspect, the pen's sales drastically improve as a result of this overhaul,

you will be rewarded a bonus commensurate with the increased profit potential. If no sales

increase is accomplished, you will not receive a monetary bonus but will receive a commendation

for keeping the interest of Slaveco first and foremost in your continuing employment with us.

Commendations are most important in reviewing personnel for promotion.

Again, thank you for taking the time and effort to submit your list of suggestions. Let

us hope their implementation will indeed pull the current "South American Mixed" pen out of

its doldrums and to zoom upward in the sales charts as a re-christened "South American

Favorites" pen.

Mr. Nelson strolled down to the "South American Mixed" pen periodically from then on. On his first visit, he noted truck after truck moving stock out of the pen: the big blacks were being transferred one by one to another pen as well as the handsome pure white stock. Brown mestizos were arriving from the airport terminal about as fast as they could be unloaded, all well built, a pretty brown color with fine brown or black hair, and with noticeably large sexual organs. Mr. Nelson caught sight of the big Brazilian black he had handled just a month or so ago, still unsold, now being herded into a truck for transfer to the African Male pen located less than a mile away. The huge black spotted him shuffling along in his leg chains and waved a friendly goodbye, his huge erection indicating his excitement about the move.

On his second visit, he overheard the slaves practicing their English in a hastily constructed training room where the handler's whips made sure they gave their full attention to the instructor and mistakes practicing English earned them a quick sizzle from the electric prod. Currently, commands were being given in English. The slave was expected to responsd appropriately in English ("yes, master" or "thank you, master," etc.) and then fulfill the command precisely to show they understood the order. In yet another training room, newly arrived slaves were engaged in basic sexual training, learning to suck cock instantly on command, taking a big one eagerly up their asshole in various positions, and learning to thank and then clean their trainer when they were through using them. Other slaves were practicing fucking in various positions without having an orgasm - a skill demanded by some masters and certainly by any potential female purchaser along with the basic licking of clitoris and vagina most mistresses expected of their bed bucks.

On his third visit, new signs with the "South American Favorites" name were being put in place and all the handlers working there sported fancy new liveries featuring a flashy new logo unique to that pen. Hardly a pure white slave from Argentina or Chile could be spotted anywhere and all the huge black studs from Brazil (but with full African blood) were no where to be found in this pen. It was entirely filled with fresh mestizo stock, all a nice consistent brown hue, all with large shapely sex organs usually at least semi-erect, all body shaved below their eyebrows, all appropriate collared with a "South American Favorite" gold seal fastened to their collar, all ringed in both tits, and all genitally banded so their sex was prominently displayed at all times. As an added eye-catcher, each cage occupant now sported a "South American Favorite" tag riveted to their left ear and a distinctive "SAF" (South American Favorite) logo branded onto their right pectoral and left ass cheek for that little something extra buyers often looked for. Even the slave offering's genital bands had the "SAF" logo stamped into it as a distinctive mark of ownership other slaves lacked. Mr. Nelson noted all the slaves displayed themselves to potential buyers with pride and panache and gave the impression they were glad to be fondled, stroked, and manipulated as buyers examined the bodies offered. It seemed like there were more customers in the pen, but it was hard to tell, customers varying drastically by the time of day, the weather conditions that day, and even the general condition of the world's financial markets.

Nine months later, Mr. Achibald Nelson received another letter from the Slaveco Suggestions Committee.

Dear Chief Procurer Nelson:

It is our pleasure to report that sales at the renamed "South American Favorites" pen have now

reached the top quartile rank among our numerous pens here in our international sales

operation. This escalation from last place to the upper quartile is in large part due to the the

timely implementation of the suggestions you made to this committee over nine months ago.

Your bonus check, as a token of our deepest appreciation, for $245,000 is enclosed which is based

on our estimate of 10% of the increased profits from this pen we expect over the next few years.

Thanks to you, all staff of that pen have retained their positions (along with a nice bonus) and

stock no longer languishes in the cages month after month, literally eating up any profit to be

made from their sale. The Brazilian full-blacks are selling well in the African pens where, as you

pointed out, they belonged to start with, being of full African blood. White slaves originating in

South America are selling briskly in the European, Canadian, and Australian pens where buyers

expect to find white slaves, among other places. The remaining Mestizo stock, so representative

of South America, has broad appeal due to uniformity of stock, more complete training

(especially English language and sexual training), and better genetics (better builds, much

larger genitals, good muscular definition, and more handsome facial features.)

You have also been recommended for promotion to Vice-President of Procurement for the "U.S.

Midwest Stud" pen of Slaveco based on your fine record of accomplishment with the higher

salary level that accompanies that position. Congratulations and keep the good work up!


But Archibald Nelson's rewards weren't to end there. Shortly thereafter a huge black stud, totally naked and fitted with big tit rings, a thick collar, a tight genital band around his huge organs, and a 2" nose ring adoring his handsome face, was delivered to his apartment by a courier from the "African Males" pen. As the slave knelt in front of him, Mr. Nelson saw there was a card attached to the slave's collar.

"Mr. Nelson.

We handlers here at the "South American Favorites"pen are so grateful for your convincing recommendations to the powers that be at Slaveco, including the one about keeping all the handlers in their present positions, that we all chipped in and bought you this black boy that use to be in our pen and which you looked at very carefully right before you made your persuasive recommendations. Thanks to you, we have our jobs (with a nice bonus), the pen is doing very well now that we're focused on our product, and the newly instituted training regimes are really attractive to our customer base. This black stud (which we had put on 'layaway' until now) is the least we can do and is a gift we hope you enjoy thoroughly. It's always nice to own one of your own!

Your friends, the handlers at South American Favorites."

After a long and very busy night with the new addition to his apartment (where he discovered the huge black seemed to enjoy being fucked as much as he enjoyed being milked), Mr. Nelson hooked a leash to the genital band of his new property and headed down to the newly refurbished "South American Favorites" pen. There he thanked each and every one of the handlers for their thoughtful gift (letting them handle the gift any way they wanted in the process) and treated them all to a round of beers while, one by one, they fucked the black slave, not having a full black to fuck for some time now.

When he started back to the apartment, he was a little tipsy from all the beer, but the black slave could barely walk after being fucked so long and so hard. Cum was pouring out of his ass with every step and his hole had never been so sore, but he was delighted that he had a master of his own at last after all those months in the holding pen. Mr. Nelson appreciated the looks of envy he got from passerbys who wished they could own something as big, powerful, and sexy as the huge black - a slave well utilized from the looks of all that thick cum dribbling down the back of his muscular thighs.

Yes, it was nice to actually own one of your own! *********************************************************** [Feedback on stories is always very much appreciated. Bill Smith (anonymous4371@juno.com)]]


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