PORNOS Chapter 2 "The Selection Criteria"
This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen years
Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris): July, 2012 Read all my stories at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories
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Chapter 2: 'The Selection Criteria'
At the overseer's command, all eight of us assume the full, standing at display position. Despite my nervousness and my accelerated breathing, I quickly straighten my body, tighten my muscles and shuffle my feet until they are the required eighteen inches apart. I entwine my fingers at the back of my head and push back on my elbows. As I do so, I feel the tightening of my pectoral and abdominal muscles and my biceps scrunch themselves into hard, rounded balls of solid muscle.
We are all familiar with this position; it is demanded of us whenever our Master inspects his properties. I recall even as a small child, I was made to assume this position as my owner checked my progress into productive servitude.
Submissively, I lower my eyes to the ground and wait. I am now ready for inspection by my Master's client.
I know I must show no signs of emotion and even nervousness isn't allowed. The man, who has come to inspect us demands no less than that we stand perfectly still as he appraises our bodies, It's true that a Master controls his slave's outward actions but even he has no control over the turmoil of his inner emotions. Most owners don't credit their slaves with the wit to feel shame or humiliation. To them a slave is simply an unthinking, unfeeling animal the same as any other domesticated beast-of-burden. Indeed a slave is ranked lower that the majestic horses our Masters ride or the faithful dogs that trot dutifully at their sides.
And raised from birth as a slave, I have no illusions as to what I really am!
I am only vaguely aware of why we are being inspected. However, I know we are the first cull of the selling season. Each spring, our Master systematically inspects his slaves and selects the most personable of his eighteen year old males for this man's inspection. Usually there are around eight such slaves presented, but that number can vary. It can increase or decrease to reflect the slave crop of the year of our birth. The year when I was born was obviously light on numbers but high on quality as I and my fellow slaves all qualify as 'the primest stock'. These aren't my words; rather they are the words of the man who has come to inspect us as he talks with my Master.
I'm not absolutely sure of what is to happen to those of us who are selected by his man. Obviously, I'll be aware that we have been sold but for what purpose won't be clear. Rumours abound in the slave stables and the older slaves whisper darkly in the corners as though to protect us from some unpalatable truth.
And as I wait for my turn to be inspected I wonder, if I am chosen, where my new home will be. Will I simply change Masters but continue with the soul-destroying drudgery that is the unhappy lot of a common field-slave? I know of no other existence for this is what I have been raised to do and there is great comfort in the familiarity of my present life.
Nervously, I wait for my turn, as slowly my Master and his client work their way down the line towards me. With my eyes downcast, I'm vaguely conscious when a slave is inspected and, if selected, he is then taken from line and made to stand apart from us. Already two slaves have been chosen and I recall overhearing the man tell my Master that he is in the market for four slaves. That leaves two more for him to choose.
The slave next to me is inspected and passed over. It is now my turn and I begin to tremble from an odd mixture of fear and uncertain anticipation of a new life away from the only world I have ever known.
I keep my eyes to the ground but my ears tuned to listen to the two men's' conversation.
Who is this man who is about to inspect me and why does he want to buy me? Of course, I don't know the answers to these questions but if I did I would be most worried.
Inevitably, I will learn that his name is Lucius Jefferson and that he is the owner of a hotel-casino complex that has at its core an upmarket 'Gentlemen's Club'. The club goes by the grandiose name of the 'Andronicus Club' and caters for an exclusive male clientele from the business community and the upper end of town.
And I would be more perturbed if I knew the reason why he wishes to buy me. Should Lucius buy me, I will become a 'pornoi' or male prostitute in his fancy brothel where affluent free men will pay exorbitant fees to use my body for their sexual pleasure.
Suddenly, the man speaks to me.
"LIFT YOUR HEAD BOY! Look at me!"
I obey his command and lift my eyes from the ground and look straight into the bright, grey-green eyes of this man who could soon be my new Master. Standing before me is a tall, slim man of approximately thirty-five years. The man has handsome, deeply tanned features with a head of dirty-blond, tousled hair and a well-developed, muscular body that is expensively but casually covered in a pair of well-tailored slacks and blue cotton shirt. The top three buttons of the shirt are unbuttoned and I notice the thick thatch of blond hair covering the man's muscular chest. The man's voice is pleasantly modulated and he speaks with an educated, refined accent. And from his bearing, it's plain to see that he has an easy self-assurance and is most probably highly successful in his business ventures.
Indeed, I am to learn that he's been so successful that many of his associates - no doubt out of envy - have given him the sobriquet, 'Lucky'. Involuntarily, I catch my breath at the physical beauty of this man who is considering buying me and my heart beats just a little faster.
I can't help but compare him - most favourably - with my current Master Clement who, aged in his fifties, is short and vastly overweight. Other things I notice about my Master are the nervous sweat beading on his balding dome and brow, his pitiless expression, the compressed, cruel lips chomping on a cigar stub and the greedy look in his eyes. Like my fellow slaves I am well used to my Master's avaricious nature and inherent cruelty; he has demonstrated both countless times in his treatment of all of us regardless of our sex or age.
My Master speaks.
"Well Lucius, what do you think?"
"I'm impressed, Clement! Yes indeed, I'm most impressed. This boy is the pick of them - at least visually. But, I'll know better after I inventory him. But he's looking good so far. He has a great physique and he scores a perfect ten for it. Also he's handsome - again that's a good feature- and this is something most of my customers look for in a pleasure slave; most of them don't want to fuck an ugly slave. And those incredibly blue eyes will work in his favour when he is on his knees sucking cock. And speaking of cock -that's another great feature he possesses- long and thick just the way my patrons like them. I like the dinky way his cock twitches and the way his balls hang unevenly between his thighs. They give him a cute quality that will appeal to my patrons - should I buy him. But of course, if I do, he'll lose the foreskin; that'll have to go!"
"To my mind, he's the pick of them. I always thought he was the best of his year's drop."
"From what I've seen so far that must have been a good year. You obviously had a good slave harvest that year."
"Indeed I did and for a number of years after that too. I had the services of one of the best breeding bucks I've ever owned. He was a veritable stallion and he sired many fine slaves - predominantly colts I might add."
"If this boy is a sample of his progeny, I'd have to agree with you. So, what eventually happened to the sire? Do you still own him?"
"I sold him on! I have a policy of only using a stud for about five breeding seasons. I usually start using a buck when he turns nineteen and then sell him when he's aged twenty-four or twenty-five. That way I still get a good price for him."
"Clement, do you know what happens to them once you sell them?"
"No I never bother to keep tabs on them. Once they leave here, I don't care what happens to 'em. But in the case of this boy's sire, I sold him to Theodore Russell of Redgrove Plantation. I believe he was used for breeding for a number of years. After that I don't know what happened to him. Most likely sold on as a field-hand, I should think."
"Well I have to say these eight boys are a credit to you. But it does make my job harder. I'm having trouble in choosing which boys best suit my needs. What'll happen to the ones I don't buy?"
"If I decide not to keep them, then they'll be sold at the spring auction of my surplus stock. But in this boy's case, I'll probably keep him if you don't buy him. I've shortlisted him as a potential breeder once he turns nineteen."
"Then in that case I best make a start on my inspection of him before you have a change of heart and withdraw him from sale. As always Clement, I'll start my inspection at his ass. As you know, I always like to start with their asses. It quickly tells me whether or not to continue with a full inspection. If the slave has a cute ass then a full examination is warranted. If not, then I move onto the next slave. "
"The slave's at your disposal, Lucius. Take all the time you need. He isn't going anywhere."
I flinch slightly as I feel the man place his hands firmly on my shoulders and then move them slowly down over my back to my ass. I begin to wriggle uncomfortably as I feel his fingers deeply kneading the firm flesh of my buttocks.
This earns me a series of noisy slaps to my ass and a sharp rebuke from Lucky Lucius to.
"Stand still, damn you! Stop fidgeting!"
My face reddens with shame as he discusses my body's "finer" points with my Master.
"I have to say, the slave has a cute ass; my patrons will certainly appreciate this feature. For many of them it's the determining factor in choosing which slave to fuck. I like the firmness and muscle tone of his buttocks; they're neither too large nor too fleshy. In fact, they're just right. When I'm choosing a slave to serve as a pornoi at the Andronicus Club I always look to see that he has a nicely rounded, boyish rump - after all it's on permanent display at the club and subject to much handling by the patrons - they really do like to grope a shapely, young ass. This slave's is very curvaceous and I expect my patrons will show a lot of interest in it. It could prove to be a real money spinner for me - a veritable goldmine."
The man continues with his examination of me and he uses his index finger trace along the crisp outline of the S brand on the left left flank.
"I see he takes a brand nicely. That's good. If I buy him, he will of course, wear my house brand on his right pectoral muscle. All my pleasure slaves do. My clients love to see a slave's brands as they fuck him. BEND AND SPREAD!"
I hasten into position and bend at the waist so that the crevice between my buttocks is spread wide and open for his inspection. I feel a finger poised at the opening to my body slowly teasing the sensitive tissue. I quiver at his touch which sends little sparks of pleasure surging through my body.
I am unused to such stimulation. My Master has always forbidden sex between his slaves on the premise that it robs us of our energy and distracts our attention from our labours. And to reinforce this rule all male slaves are infibulated as they approach puberty. I was taken to the blacksmith's forge and fitted with my infibulation rings through my foreskin well before the onset of my own sexual maturity.
Infibulation of the male slave is inherently cruel, both physically and emotionally; not only does it rob the slave of his humanity but it also negates his basic, sexual needs. Even partial arousal is most painful and penile erection is almost impossible which leaves its hapless victims sexually frustrated.
Originally, my Master's method was to pierce a slave's prepuce and when the wounds were healed to insert a metal ring through the piercings and to solder it shut. Later my Master refined his technique to use two rings and that was the method used on me. My foreskin was pierced on either side of my glans and two rings inserted one on either side before being linked together over the head of my cock. And where the two rings joined a lead seal was affixed; a broken seal would show my Master if I'd indulged in any illicit sexual activity. Needless to say my Master has his overseers inspect these seals on all his male slaves each morning before the start of their work and any slave whose seal is broken pays a high price.
"He has a dainty little rosebud; good colouring and nicely puckered". Lucius comments delightedly as he continues with his playful tickling. "The slave responds well to a bit of finger play. I like that and so will my patrons. However, I need to ascertain that he is still a virgin."
The two overseers had prepared us for just such an inspection. After they placed us in line to await our Master's and his client's arrival, they gave the order for us to.
"Bend and spread!"
As one, all eight of us bent at the waist and reaching behind, we parted our buttocks as wide as we could spread them and waited. They moved slowly down the line smearing a glob of lubricant onto our anuses before enthusiastically working it through our sphincters and into our rectums.
I gasp audibly at the rude insertion of Lucky Lucius's finger into my ass.
"That's good; his asshole is sound and tight! I needed to establish that. He'll be no good to me or my clients if he's slack-assed." Lucius adds as his finger searches for my prostate gland. "And he has a very good response too. That's excellent. Now, however, I need to test him for tightness and grip. These are the two things that my patrons always insist upon; they want the slaves under them to have tight holes and a good grip. My slaves have to be proficient at working a client's cock for maximum pleasure; after all they are `pleasure' slaves aren't they?"
Lucius's ribald laughter is lost on my dour Master. Unperturbed, he continues with his digital exploration of my wriggling body and adds.
"Clement, I have to say this boy is exceedingly tight. "
"Well Lucius, like all my slaves, he is tight-assed." My Master reply is sour. "I don't allow them to go poking their cocks into one another. Drains them of their energy and affects their work output. That's why they're infibulated. It keeps their minds off their cocks and focused on their labours."
"Well, I'm glad you do that Clement. It ensures the slaves I buy from you are fresh, unbroken stock. The customers love that and will pay a premium to be the one to take first bite of a slave's cherry."
I am appalled as I listen to the conversation for I now know what fate awaits me if I am sold.
"Do you charge your clients extra for the slave's first time, Lucius?"
"Always, Clement! But let me state the money from that doesn't go to me. I 'auction off' a new slave's virginity to the highest bidder. And the money goes to one of the many charities I support. For example, the four boys I buy from you today will be part of a special auction night. All the clients will have a chance to bid for them and they'll be knocked down to the highest bidders."
"From what you're saying, it could be a fun night, Simon."
"It is Clement. Everyone one enjoys the occasion. Well, I should qualify that as I'm not sure if the new slaves do. But it's a good way for them to be initiated into their new roles as pornos."
"Do you have trouble getting your clients to bid?"
"No, not at all, Clement. I ensure their glasses are always filled with wine and there's plenty of food. This relaxes them and puts them into a good mood so that they loosen their purse-strings and bid for whatever slave takes their fancy. Remember these are charity nights. As a businessman, I feel I have a social responsibility to give something back to the community."
"Well then - good luck! But tell me does this boy meet your standards? Does he qualify?"
"I have one more test for him, Clement."
Throughout the conversation, Lucius's finger had continued to excite me. Buried deep within me, the initial discomfort I'd felt is now replaced by one of pleasure. This is a new pleasure that I am unused to and while one part of me is revolted by this misuse of my body; another begs for more - much more. And despite the severe limitations my infibulation imposes upon me, I feel an unaccustomed stirring in my loins. This is most unusual but not entirely unwelcome!
"Right boy, grip my finger" Lucius Jefferson commands me. "Come on, squeeze your ass muscles together....... yes that's it .......now grip my finger and squeeze hard...... harder yet ........harder......now relax .... Good boy!"
I find myself responding to his encouragement and I do best to obey his command. Slowly, my body settles into a pattern of alternatively gripping and releasing Simon's intruding finger in time with my own laboured breathing.
Then suddenly, the finger is withdrawn and I'm slapped on my buttocks and ordered to.
"STAND, FACE THE FRONT AND DISPLAY!"
"How does he measure up, Lucius? Did he pass?"
"Indeed he did, Clement. He worked by finger beautifully. Of course it won't be fingers he'll be working in future; they'll be replaced by cocks. But the slave has great potential l- I see a bright future for him at the Andronicus Club. Of course, he'll need to be trained in the finer aspects of his duties but I haven't any doubt that he'll prove to be very popular attraction with my patrons. Now, LIFT YOUR HEAD, BOY!"
My inspection is almost at an end. All that remains is for a close quarter inspection of my eyes, ears, nose and mouth. As my tongue and teeth are examined, I'm repulsed by the realization that these fingers had, just moments before, examined other less savoury parts of my body. The grossness of this overwhelms me but I am powerless to protest and I must stand placidly throughout my ordeal.
Then, Lucky Lucius turns his attention to my nipples. In a pinching action, he stretches them out from my chest and cruelly manipulates them. He tells my Master that.
"They'll take ringing nicely!"
I'm unsure of what he means by 'ringing' but his words have an ominous tone to them and I am left to worry about its meaning.
Fortuitously, my ordeal is over - at least for now! Lucius has chosen me and as he and my Master shake hands on the deal, an overseer leads me to where the two other slaves who'd already been selected stand waiting. Now it is my turn to stand with them and wait patiently as my new Master chooses a fourth slave to join us.
When the fourth slave has been selected, my former Master immediately orders those slaves not chosen by Lucius Jefferson back into the fields to work. There is no time for our goodbyes. I watch as the four are driven away under the whips and I am suddenly overwhelmed by a twin sense of loss and dread.
The realization that I am now permanently separated from my slave brothers - some of whom are indeed my biological half-brothers as we were sired by the same father - brings tears to my eyes. Suddenly, feelings of desolation and loneliness engulf me. These are new sensations; despite the grimness of my life as a slave I'd always enjoyed the close companionship of my slave brethren as we worked side by side in our Master's fields.
And the uncertainty of my future fills me with dread. I have overheard enough to know what awaits me and my three fellow slaves at the Andronicus Club.
As my new Master accompanies my former one back to the house to finalize his purchase of us, the overseers prepare us for our journey to our new home. We are placed one behind the other and chained by the neck into a coffle while with our wrists are tightly bound behind our backs.
Then they lead us to the courtyard where our new Master's trap and ponies wait for his return. There, we are attached by a long chain to the rear of the conveyance and left to stand.
I suppose it's true to say all four of us wish that we were the four, unchosen slaves driven out to work in our former Master's fields. The six thousand acres of his farm had been the only world we'd ever known and we'd never wandered beyond its boundaries. In my current state of unease, I wonder what lies beyond the farm-gates. What unknown terrors and cruel disappointments lie in store for us as we enter into this strange, new world?
Today, the comforting familiarity of the first eighteen years of my life has been brutally torn from me as my Master sells me. Yet, I am only fulfilling my destiny. I'd been bred for this moment and my very existence enriches my Masters!
For the four of us, there is now the uncertainty of new, lascivious existences to be lived as pornos within the debauched halls of the Andronicus Club.
To be continued ......................
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