Surplus Sale

SURPLUS SALE

by Bill Smith

The newspaper ad caught my attention immediately.

"SURPLUS STOCK AT GIVEAWAY PRICES! Our breeding operations have been too successful over the last few years. Consequently, we are seriously overstocked with male slaves in the 17 to 19 year old range classified as Category 3 stock (average in looks, build and sexual equipment). But all have been carefully bred, trained since birth for a life of servitude, and all are eager to please a new master. Most are white, average in height, and are the products of a wide range of high quality genetic breeding stock. If you're looking for an entry level 'starter' slave at a bargain price, this is your big chance. Our ridiculously low prices are aimed at the first time slave owner who, up until now, didn't think he could afford a slave of his own. With prices as low as $20,000, almost anyone can afford at least one of these slaves, if not several."

The smaller print under the banner spelled out the financial details. "These slaves can be purchased on the installment plan on a five year basis - just $333 a month for a $20,000 slave. That's less than your car payments probably and will cost you just $11 a day for guaranteed pleasure provided any time you want it, just like you want it, day or night. If you have your new slave service you as little as four times a day (although most will probably want to use the slave a great deal more than that), that's under $3 a fuck or a perfect blow job and even less if you use the slave more than that. And, after a mere five years, it won't cost you anything at all! Even if you trade the slave in then for a Category 1 or 2 slave, these Category 3 slaves are noted for having good resale value throughout their 20s and 30s if you take reasonable care of your property. In fact, at current used slave pricing, you can expect the slave to be worth at least $10,000 when you trade them in after five years. That makes your per day actual cost only $5.50 a day and each usage only $1.50, less than the cost of a decent condom if you're still into having your sexual needs met by other means (and that's taking into account the constant risk of disease when you use ordinary brothel slaves or free prostitutes."

"Our loss (due to poor management planning) will be your gain! Take advantage now. Inspection of stock will take place at SlaveNow warehouse (adjoining our more formal auction center) at 400 N. Coastal Rd from 8 AM to Noon this coming Saturday. All stock will be marked on their back at a non-negotiable price, starting at $20,000 to no more than $22,000 (most are being offered at the $20,000 price to make sure we clear out all our stock) and can be collected immediately upon payment by credit card, installment plan arrangements with a 10% down payment, or check or cash. Those not sold by Noon will be offered at auction starting at 1 PM with a $20,000 minimum bid on all stock.

"At these liquidation prices, stock is sold 'as is' with no guarantees, but these properties are from one of our finest breeding operations. They are sold 'au natural:'

• They are not collared yet, so bring at least a spare belt or an old dog collar to put around their neck until you get them home. Aluminum or copper collars can be permanently installed at the site for only $15.00 extra.

• They are not branded yet, although this can be done at the warehouse for a mere $10 if all you want is the standard slave brand on their butt and pectoral.

• They are not tattooed with an identification number, although assignment of such a number and installation of the tattoo wherever you want it can be arranged and performed on site before you leave for an additional $15.00.

• All properties being offered have not been body shaved, although this can be done by SlaveNow's own slave staff immediately after purchase for an additional fee of $5.00.

• Most of the stock has not been tit ringed yet, but if you want this popular accessory installed before leaving, it can be arranged for a mere $6.00 for both tits ($4.00 for one tit only).

• Genital banding, highly recommended for both appearance and control, can be performed on grounds for an additional $10.00 (your choice of either aluminum or copper bands).

• Wrist and ankle bracelets can be welded on in either copper or aluminum at site for only $10.00 per set for wrists; $10.00 per set for ankles.

• A slave name can be tattooed onto the slave's chest or back (or both) for only $15.00 either front or back ($25.00 for both).

• A nose ring through the septum can be quickly installed at the site for only $20.00 extra but this accessory generally requires a week or so to heal and probably should be done at a later time.

• A slave leash for your new property (that you fasten to their collar, tit rings, genital band, or their nose ring) can be purchased for only $5.00 extra.

Thus, for only $91 extra, you can have your new purchase fully fitted and looking like a real slave: collared, branded, body shaved, an SIN number permanently installed, fully tit ringed, genitally banded with matching ankle bracelets, and with its new name proudly proclaimed on either its front of back and being led by a brand new leash to its new home. For $111, you can led your new property home by its newly installed nose ring."

Who could ignore a deal like that? For over a year now, four of my best buddies and I had scrounged around every time we got horny, either begging and borrowing the use of one of our wealthier friend's slaves, visiting one of the local slave brothels, or, most likely, using our right hand while we fantasized about owning a slave ourselves. All five of us could afford our own slave at these prices, especially with the installment plan they offered.

I immediately conference called them and found each of them had already seen the advert and were as excited about it as I was. We quickly made plans to meet early for breakfast on the day of the big event, share any additional information we had at that time, and get ourselves over to the sales site long before it officially opened so we could be among the first to look over any available stock already in place. All of us vowed we would have all our finances in order to qualify for the installment plan, would take whatever was available at those prices without too much quibbling about these low priced offerings, and, laughing, promised that whatever we bought would be shared and shared alike once we had taken out fill of them that very night. "The Five Musketeeers" one of us quipped, while another one said "If we got together every night and shared, it would be like buying five slaves instead of just one." Truthfully, we didn't expect much for the price, but anything was better than what we had now. Not one of us had a clue as to what a "Category 3" slave was or wasn't. When you don't have any slaves at all, the various categories don't make much sense although we all thought "Category 3" must be the pits of slave offerings, given the unbelievably low price. Still, if it was alive and breathing, it was better than what we had right now!

My four friends, Bret, Jeff, Jacob, and George were an interesting lot if I do say so myself. All we had in common was our youth, our strong sex drives, our reasonable good looks, and our lack of much hard capital. We all had jobs of a sort, although none of us would get rich in those positions. We all loved using slaves to satisfy our sexual needs when we could get our hands on them, and all of us preferred male to female meat, all things being equal. In fact, all of us preferred slaves to any other sexual partners - you didn't have to play games with slaves like you often had to with free partners. Slaves knew exactly why you were interested in them - their bodies were there for the taking without a bunch of nonsense about loving them, etc. Furthermore, slaves understood completely their welfare depended on making sure they pleased you, no matter what you wanted and that makes all the difference in the world when you think of having sex with a free person. One thing we all agreed on: slaves were on this earth to sexually satisfy their betters if they had no other purpose whatsoever, although we were all aware slaves actually made the economy work, what with their almost universal use nowadays to man the factories, work the construction sites, service most public functions, and keep the infrastructure and utilities in good shape. We also knew that in our society, there was always the chance one would end up a slave himself, given the current criminal codes, the tendencies of the courts to sentence slavery for almost any violations whatsoever, and widespread kidnaping to supply a strong 'black market' in slaves. You didn't have to be born a slave to be one in today's society - over 40% in the slave markets today had never been near a breeding farm! Therefore, deep down inside, we knew slaves were no different than the five of us - it's just they were slaves for one reason or another and we weren't. But that small distinction made all the difference in the world!

Bret actually worked for the courts as a bailiff. As such, he was around slaves all the time, especially those newly imprisoned as he was responsible for getting them into the court room for sentencing, taken back to their cells after sentencing, and getting them ready to take to court-scheduled auctions. Bret was well equipped physically for the job: well built, muscular, and imposing in looks, he looked the part of a bailiff in his tight black court uniform, his usual sunglasses and cap, and the cigar seemingly permanently in his mouth. Being around all that slave meat each and every day made it especially difficult for him not to own even one slave himself. Almost unbelievably, the courts had some strange rule that court employees couldn't sexually use the prisoners, the thought being it would interfere with their work. He felt like a kid in a candy store and resented the silly rule but knew he would lose his job if he taste the goodies all around him..

As a result, Bret came home from work each night hard and dripping just thinking about all the available slave meat so near and yet so unobtainable to him. Each day he saw his share of cute little slaveboys stripped nude and knew that within a day or so they would be in some lucky owner's bed having the stuffing fucked out of them. It just wasn't going to be him. Overall, he was the epitome of sexual frustration and when he did get his hands on a slave at the local brothels or through some friend's generous loan, that poor slave knew he'd been well used before Bret was through with him. Usually by the end of a work day, his tight pants were soaked with all the precum that had satiated through the cloth and he admitted he had to put on a fresh pair of trousers to even go out that night.

Jeff, the second of my group of friends, worked for the city supervising construction slaves who generally were strong and lanky, but not noted for their looks. He was good at his job, exhibiting great skill in use of the widely used 12-thong slave whip, knowing his job was to get the last ounce of work out of the slaves possible. His job did have one advantage, though. During the lunch breaks, supervisors were allowed to use any slave they wanted as long as it didn't effect their work that afternoon. Jeff was especially turned on by a young Italian slave in his work squad and every day, exactly at 12:30 PM, the Italian not only got a hot cum dessert courtesy of his whip-wielding supervisor, but also had his ass well stretched while Jeff fucked him. It was a nice fringe benefit of his job, one that Bret thought should be mandatory for all those working with slaves. The Italian slave was so used to it he had stopped thinking about master's privileges long ago. It was just a fact of being a slave as far as he could ascertain and, compared to the use the old and ugly cage master put him to each and every night, Jeff's usage was almost a relief.

Jacob, another in the group of friends, was about as well built as men get, slave or free. He prided himself on his body and showed it off every chance he got. He admitted he wouldn't mind being nude all the time as most slaves were required to be these days and also liked the way some masters lusted after their slave properties that were exceptionally good looking. We all thought that if you could sell yourself into slavery, Jacob would probably be first in line, especially if he had a good looking master lined up to buy him. He was currently a bricklayer, working alongside mainly slaves - a fact that kept his salary low and his job in constant peril. On the one hand, he resented slavery in that they threatened his job; on the other hand, he certainly bedded them down every time he got a chance, including quite a bit at work sites where the slaves he worked with were often willing enough to offer him full use of their bodies in return for a candy bar or secretly sharing part of his Coke when their supervisor wasn't looking.. Compared to the use they were put to every night back in the slave dorms by their fellow slaves or their ugly dorm masters, Jacob's body was a real treat and he treated them with the respect of a co-worker more than just a slave. In fact, he was so popular at the work sites, the slaves often had fantasies of being owned by their good looking free bricklayer. But Jacob had little money, respect, or job security in the free world and owning a slave himself was a life long dream.

George, the fourth in our group, was a black who was still in law school. He aspired to be an attorney specializing in slave law once he graduated where he would arbitrate disputes regarding ownership, estate sales, and distribution of 'illegal' properties caught up in black market operations. Right now, like the rest of us, he was poor, lacked much respect from others, and looked forward to the day he could own a slave himself. In the interim, like the rest of us, he took what he could get. One part-time job that he had grabbed onto was training new slaves to the typical demands of slavery whether they be newly made slaves or slaves coming of age on the breeding farms. In that job, mainly done around his classes at law school and most weekends, he introduced slaves to their probable sexual duties once they were purchased. This mainly involved getting them used to being fondled freely, being on their knees swallowing a big one down their throat, or on their hands and knees (or sometimes their back) taking a nice big real live prick up their ass. Although the job didn't pay much, he enjoyed the work and was certainly equipped for the task at hand, a fact that had landed him the job to start with. George found most of the formerly-free white slave (and even a few of the bred slaves) had never had a black fuck them before and didn't quite know what to expect. Once he was through with them, they realized it was no different that any other trainer - it was size that mattered, not color of skin, in learning how to adjust to their new realities. George himself preferred to own a black slave if he could find one, but it really didn't matter too much. Looks and attitude were more important than skin tone when you got right down to it, he admitted.

I was the fifth in our group. My name is Sam - actually Samuel Sebastian Sirocca. I'm about 5'11", reasonably well built, olive colored with dark eyes, and my parents were originally from Crete. I'm a diesel mechanic just finishing up an apprenticeship, but right now my pay is just enough to eke out a tiny apartment, a five-year-old car, a couple of changes of clothes where I look decent, and enough to eat. My main assets are my dark Mediterranean good looks, a nice body, tackle I'm certainly not ashamed of, and, of course, my inherent charm and personality. In the group of five, I'm the one that's had the closest brush with enslavement myself. About two years ago, when I was 17, I was caught selling some pot down at the diesel repair shop, got formally charged and ended up in court (not Bret's place, thank goodness). Due to pure good luck, the case didn't hold because the arresting officer failed to record the evidence (probably smoking it himself) and I got released the day of my hearing. If that copper had been able to produce the evidence, I would have been auctioned off at the tender age of 17 and no telling where I would be now. Probably, according to my friends, spreading my legs in some slave brothel since Mediterranean males were much in vogue right now.

The morning of the big sale arrived. The five of us had a good breakfast we hoped would last throughout the day and we were among the first to enter the inspection yard, actually about 30 minutes before the scheduled time. What we saw was a lot better than anything we expected. Some slaves in the closest holding cells hadn't been awakened yet and were still sound asleep when we peeked into their cages. These late risers, totally naked of course, looked to be young, handsome, and completely body shaved although devoid, as they said, of the usual slave identity and control devices. They were so good looking and so well hung we assumed these weren't among the "Category 3's" offered for sale and moved on.

In the next area, the slaves were already up and, pressing against the bars of their cages, were studying us as much as we were studying them. Their look told us they were well aware their fate depended on who bought them. They were already trying to lure what looked like a good master into buying them, so we assumed they were probably "Category 3's". It was obvious from their blatant hard-ons they found us attractive as well. What we saw at this point looked mighty good considering the price. Some were so good looking it was hard to believe they had been classified as only Category 3 and we worried that we were probably wrong in thinking it was them that were to be sold that day. We got hard just looking at them and could hardly wait to get our hands on them to see if they felt as good as they looked. We couldn't imagine what a Category 2, let alone a Category 1, must look like if these boys were actually the Category 3's advertised for sale.

As we walked to another large barn, slaves looked like they had been up for hours, and were busily engaged in a last-minute warm up for the upcoming inspection which I suppose served as a reminder of all the training they had received up to that point. We were almost certain that these slaves must be the promised Category 3's up for sale. Their overseers were having them use each other for the sexual warm-up exercises as their trainers hadn't accompanied them to the sale and the overseers were far too busy with other matters to do this themselves on a sales day. The slaves we saw here took to this assignment readily enough (especially since it was right out in public view) and seemed to know exactly what to do - a sure sign they had been well trained and that they pretty well knew what to expect once they had been purchased by a new owner. Some were being fucked, some were put to sucking, still others were stroking themselves into a good display. Every slave we saw so far was very good looking, obviously well trained, and nicely equipped for any sexual duties their new owners might want.

All five of us couldn't begin to believe these boys were going to be sold for only $20,000. There must be some trick involved here. Surely goods like this would be sold for at least $100,000 minimum and the $20,000 advert had only been a lure to get us in here and then try to extract a $100,000 out of us once we were all hot and bothered for the goods being offered.

But the salespeople assigned around the perimeter assured us this wasn't the case. They said each and every boy we saw in action as they warmed them up for the sale was going for the advertised $20,000 price. Those costing more weren't even being displayed at this point, they added.

"When we said we were over-stocked, we weren't kidding," one of the salesman said. "We've got thousands just like this we simply have to get rid of - we never dreamed 18 years ago the studding operations would be so successful. But successful they were - we're simply overrun with stock and the only way to get rid of it is to knock it down to rock bottom prices and sell it to 'first time' entry-level slave owners."

"Any of you ever owned a slave before?" another salesman asked. When we shook our heads, he brightened up. "Then you're the type of buyer we were hoping to attract today. New masters who never dreamed they would be able to afford a slave of their own, let alone boys looking like this and fairly well trained, considering they really have no experience under their belts yet."

"What belts?" another salesman laughed. "These boys have never had a stitch of clothing on as far as I know, let alone a belt."

"I wasn't talking about a belt like you and I wear, dummy. I'm talking about the belts a good owner will use in training them properly."

"Oh, you mean a belt across their back," the other salesman responded. "Most of us call them whips nowadays."

"Whatever," the first salesman said. "Shall be compromise? A slave lash? Does that suit you. I re-phase myself. 'They really have little experience under the lash yet'? Is that better?"

"Much clearer," his fellow salesman laughed.

The five of us just stared at the salesmen in their jocular exchange. Obviously, humor in the slave pens was somewhat more sophisticated than the world we came from and we felt rather rustic. We 'whipped' slaves who were 'buck naked' where we came from and that was that.

In the nearby holding areas, sighs and moans reached our ears as one boy after another responded to the attentions he was receiving from his fellow slaves in this 'warm up' period. None of them, under threat of the whip, were allowed to shoot off. This exercise was just to get them showing well at the inspection period. Draining their balls now might cause a lose of ardor once a potential buyer started inspecting their bodies seriously.

What impressed all of us was that the slaves weren't in the slightest embarrassed or humiliated by this wanton display of their bodies nor did they seem to resent in any way being required to stimulate their fellow slaves for show. It was obvious this was simply part of their life now and they expected nothing less. It was a good sign if you were buying them primarily for the pleasure they could offer you in your own bed.

Once we could tear our eyes away from the scenes around us, we all gave each other the high sign - to us, it seemed we were in 'the right place at the right time' for a change. Everywhere we looked, the action just got better and better and the bodies involved got more and more attractive - maybe because slaves always seem to look better when they're actually doing what they're trained to do. It seemed such a waste, though, to see them utilizing their energies on each other when they could have been bringing even greater pleasure to us, horny as we were by this time.

Such scenes only made us eager to look the stock over ourselves and, within a few minutes, the opportunity presented itself in the huge tent where the available properties were being placed one by one for our inspection. Each slave was chained in place on a small podium by a leg manacle, thereby allowing him to turn around, bend over, and thrust himself out for inspection without limitation. There were literally thousands of them altogether. But the potential buyers were pouring in as well, although there were still far more slaves than buyers even by midmorning.

"If more buyers don't show up, we better hope some of them buy up several offerings," I overheard one of the salesmen say to another," reflecting his worry, "or we're going to have a lot of stock left over."

"Don't worry, John. "Several of them have already told me they plan to buy several at these prices. And I recognize some agents from the big hotel, resort, and brothel chains. All the big corporations have buyers here, I think. Look at their briefcases, John. See the logos on them? Hilton, Marriott, Hyatt, Global Enterprises, Acme Entertainment, Halliburton - all the big boys are here. I recognize them from our last big sale. They buy up in the hundreds sometimes to restock the brothels and resorts the big chains have set up. Slaves there sort of loose their charm after five or ten years of heavy use so they need to buy up fresh stock periodically. This is a great chance for them to do just that. Hell, all they're looking for is fresh meat - they don't give a damn if they even know how to suck someone at this point - they can always train them themselves at these prices."

The five of us took our time looking over just as many as we could in the available time. Within the next two or three hours, our hands stroked, fondled, caressed, and squeezed enough man flesh to last a lifetime. Our hands were covered in sticky precum, body oils, sweat, and even drool as we put hundreds of boys through thorough body inspections of every cavity they had, their erect throbbing organ, their swollen balls and tits, their teeth, their head hair, their muscles, their butt, the inside of their asschute, their prostate button, and every aspect of their facial features. By the time the auction started, we were worn out from touching so much skin, handling so many big distended pricks, and squeezing so many swollen balls and tits. The slaves being inspected so wantonly were sweaty, throbbing in their chronic need to gain some sexual release, but still willing to remain standing patiently as their sore tits were rubbed once again, their pricks were stroked until chafed, their balls were massaged and squeezed until they ached, and their assholes were sore and swollen from having so many fingers and huge dildos thrust up them and then pumped. Their endless patience in being inspected was a solid testament to their training.

Some of the slaves had been ordered not to hold back their output, despite their training, so an owner could sample their man cream. In those cases, little paper cups were provided to catch the output so the potential buyer could see for himself the total quantity produced, taste the cream for himself, and feel its thickness and viscosity. Such exercises were common enough when a slave was being considered as a stud for a breeding operation or as a 'milk' stud where an owner enjoyed "tonics" or "appetizers" or "youth elixirs" from his male slaves periodically. Slaves put through such 'output' exercises became quickly fatigued as the day wore on and were practically exhausted toward the end of the inspection period, often with a prick sore and bleeding from all the pumping if he was being considered by a number of different buyers.

The five of us, naive as we were when it came to slave sales, were really amazed at the number of female buyers. I guess we were still thinking it was a man's world. Wrong! First, many of the corporate agents were females which made sense when you thought of what use slaves were put to at the resorts where straight females often flocked to enjoy themselves discretely with no complications and the male slaves put at their disposal had to meet every request without hesitation. Second, many females, like us, were out to buy an 'entry-level slave' for themselves. So, much to our surprise, our bidding was in competition with heterosexual females in that we were both looking for about the same thing: a well built compliant male slave who would do exactly what we wanted to bring us pleasure. We were astonished, though, that these female buyers pulled no punches when it came to inspection of the males being offered. Pricks were stroked to full erection and then continued to see how well the slave could control his pending ejaculation - especially important with females, we realized, who wanted studs who could serve them as long as they wanted - probably for hours if the truth were known. Balls were hefted and weighed as if they were buying a stud bull and the slave's tits were squeezed and massaged until they rivaled their own in size. Muscles, especially the pecs and butt muscles, were stroked and prodded as if they were buying a side of beef. Pretty faces seemed to be as important as a big prick and, as you watched their female buyers looking the stock over, you got the impression that what their friends would think of their new stud was as important as what they thought. At least, that's what the chatter among them seem to indicate as they looked the stock over in their own unique way.

"What do you think, Mother? Do you think he's cute?" a young girl, not very attractive, asked as she stroked a slave about her age to a full erection.

"He'll do if you think he's up to making us both happy," the rather haggard looking mother replied as she reached over and, pushing her daughter's hand away, placed the exceptionally large prick into her own hand.

"Georgia, do you think he'd looked good with heavy tit rings?" another women, looking to be about 50 asked. "I want something I can show off when I go shopping."

"Janet, they won't even notice his tits if you ring his prick properly. That's what I do - band his genitals tight so they really thrust out. That way he'd get everyone's attention - especially since he's so well hung to start with." The slave being discussed, handsome to a fault, stared at the ground in front of him as he'd been taught to show his respect for free persons, most of all free persons who might end up his owner.

"Pauline, do you think this slave's balls hang too low?" a middle aged woman asked her fellow shopper as she hefted the young slave's ball sac to demonstrate her point as the slave, surprisingly considering all he had been put through that day, turned beet red in embarrassment.

The five of us all seemed to notice the female buyers especially liked to handle the slave's pricks, laying the huge swollen offerings out on the palm of their hands as if to study them microscopically, pumping them unrelentingly, and constantly playing with the foreskins. We never could understand exactly why in that they didn't seem nearly as interested in size of the organs as the male buyers, but much more interested in how the slaves looked at them as they were being handled by the interested females. Slaves under inspection caught on to this quickly and frequently winked at the females handling them, thrust themselves out into the feminine hands holding their organs with an inviting smile, or looking shyly downward as if the female's attention to their body was overwhelming or even embarrassing to them. Those same slaves didn't bother using such tawdry tricks when a male buyer was inspecting them. There it was straightforward - you want it; here it is! Pay your money, here's your meat!

But each of us, despite the female competition, had found exactly what we wanted, all at the promised $20,000 price.

Bret bought a cute little American boy who had just turned 18. He was, as advertised, totally devoid of brands and markings at this point and remained unshaven when Bret bought him. But that wasn't to last long. Bret arranged to have him totally body shaved, collared, tit ringed, genitally and ankle banded, branded, and identity tattooed at the bargain prices offered. Within an hour, the newly purchased slave boy was standing beside Bret awaiting the rest of us, the leash in Bret's hand attached to his genital ring. His tits were still sore and swollen from the recent ringing and his brand was still weeping from the hot burn. The slave's newly installed collar was so tall it forced his head into a constant upright position. But Bret had not had a nose ring installed. "Ruins his cute look," Bret explained his decision. Overall, the total price, fully equipped, came to less than $21,000, even with the sales tax included. Bret was going to pay it off over the next five years on the installment plan he had signed up for. Bret could hardly wait for the rest of us to pick up our own purchases and get the boy home for a trial run.

Jeff bought himself an Italian since he enjoyed his Italian slave at work so much. Jeff had the slave tightly restrained in a control harness that only added to the property's appeal. The devices installed already told the slave he was purchased primarily for sexual usage and display, but that didn't bother him too much in view of the alternatives of being sold off to the mines or to a construction crew where he had heard life was mighty rough. He was grateful he had ended up with a young, rather handsome new master. A couple of females were eager to buy him but his new owner beat them to it. He was glad in that it was easier, he figured, to satisfy one owner instead of two. Besides, he liked the looks of his new owner, especially when his new master had told him he 'favored Italian boys." Jeff's new purchase didn't really know where Italy was at or exactly what Italian was, but knew he had told back at the breeding farm he had been bred from Italian stock as if that were a good thing. So he figured he was "an Italian boy" if his new master said so.

Jacob was so good looking himself it was no surprise he picked a slave that looked as much like him as possible. From the look in his new property's eye, it was obvious the his new slave was totally enamored with his new owner's body and the instance he realized just who his new master actually was, he had a huge erection. He was, we all agreed, one fine looking piece of meat by anyone's standard and we immediately started pressing Jacob as to when we could sample his new slave ourselves. Even Bret thought seeing the two couple, the master and his slave, would be one of the most erotic sights he could think of.

"Ever think of selling tickets when you fuck him?" Bret laughed. "You'd make a fortune if you advertised it beforehand."

Jacob's new purchase smiled as he took in the gist of the conversation but made no comment of course. It was obvious being fucked in public didn't bother him one iota as long as it was his new master doing the fucking.

George located the black slave he was wanting. As it turned out, the slave would have been a beauty in any skin tone and seemed willing enough as George played with his hole and balls before buying him.

"I've always wanted a black of my own," George admitted as he ran his hand down the back of his new slave and cupped the slave's butt cheeks. "I just hope the boy's up to all the use he's going to get."

The new black purchase snickered as he heard the challenge. "Don't worry, master," he dared speak out. "You aren't going to be disappointed with your new purchase at all. I hold up to heavy use, I've been told," the slave said with lowered eyes, a humble tone, and a huge erection. "I was hoping a black master would buy me," he added as his prick began to drip in his excitement.

"I saw those two old hags over there looking you over and thought I'd rescue you," George laughed as he reached down and stroked his new property's huge organ. "They would have probably fucked you to death within the first week," he chuckled as the black thrust himself into the palm of his new owner's hand.

"Thank you, master," the black smiled. "When I said I hold up to heavy use, I don't think it included those two," the slave laughed as he glanced over at the two women who had lost his purchase and thrust himself even further into his new master's massaging hand to indicate his complete willingness to please his new owner.

My purchase was a Latino boy with about one-eighth black blood in him judging from appearances. He was no more than 18 even now, was short but muscular with a great build on him, was heavily endowed with a very protrusive tackle, had a flawless creamy skin, straight black hair that flowed down to his neck, and deep black eyes under long, very sexy eyelashes. When I handled him during my inspection of his body, he had instantly got hard, and was squirming in sexual excitement the minute I started stroking and fondling him.

"You're as excited as a seasoned whore," I laughed as precum started leaking out of him within seconds of my handling.

"Yes, master," the Latino slave smiled. "I get excited real easy. Especially when a man strokes my body, master."

"You don't like women?" I asked inquisitively.

"They're all right, master, but I like men better," he said quietly, careful to make sure a nearby woman buyer didn't hear him. "Oh, I can a please a mistress fine, master, but," he smiled again to make sure I didn't think he was too forward, "I can please a master even better," he promised.

Well, how can you not buy something like that, especially when they are extremely good looking anyway?

Satisfied with our own purchases, we looked around at what was still up for sale. For $20,000 each, the selection was unbelievable. There was most anything anyone could possibly want - any nationality, any skin tone, any body type - still left. All seemed eager to be used, certainly anxious to be bought, and willing to do anything to accomplish their sale.

It was a pity we didn't have more resources. If we had, we would have bought a dozen each I'm sure. As it was the big corporate giants were snapping them by the score. Most of them would end up in the big brothels, the luxurious resorts, or the big city hotels that used up slaves like this like running water.

We spent the time immediately after the auction looking over the stock that had changed hands late that day sold in bulk lots and were now awaiting installation of control devices and ultimate pickup by their new owners. Most seemed disappointed they hadn't attracted an individual owner they might get to know a little, but it was better to be sold to the brothels and resorts than to end up as surplus being unloaded to the mines, construction firms, and public works organizations that tended to buy up slaves 'left over' from other venues. Overall, even these lot sales weren't at all unhappy. Better to be fucked heavily or suck yourself silly or serve as stud to some demanding mistress until you're exhausted than end up being beaten to death in a coal mine where you'd never see the sky again or, almost as bad, working under the constant whips of the construction gangs where even jerking off was forbidden and you never escaped being collar chained to a gang, even in sleep. In slavery, all things were relative and, in their eyes, even as a lot sale, they had lucked out.

Many slaves were already being ringed and collared and a few were already being costumed obviously with the intent of putting them to immediate use once they were in their new owner's homes. A remarkably good looking slave had been sold to a middle aged mistress who was already looking like she could hardly wait to get him into her bed, although she had given him a tiny little beaded brief to wear for his trip to his new home which matched his beaded collar and tit rings. Somehow, the handsome slave felt more naked in the tiny decorated brief than he did being stark naked as was his usual state.

Still others, now body shaved, were grabbing a little rest from their long hours of being exhibited prior to being collared and branded. The long hours of being exhibited and then awaiting auction was taxing even on these young and eager bodies.

As it got closing to closing time, a few were left over and were doing everything possible to attract a last minute buyer, going so far as to thrusting out their erect organs, smiling seductively at every passerby, and muttering "Buy me, master," to anyone within hearing range. At this point in time, it was probably better to be sold to anyone, even the big corporations, than face the uncertain future of possible sale in wholesale "lots" to the mines or contractors.

What was strange was that the "left-overs" were certainly as attractive as what was bought up. Even when the auction was technically over, you still had plenty of choice among top quality, very good looking stock. Over supply didn't quite describe the market, we figured, to have "leftovers' looking this good and again, we regretted our inability to not at least buy one more slave each at these prices. But, as it was, we had spent our wad. Even with the five-year installment plan, the monthly payment for one slave each was all we could handle. Life just wasn't fair, we figured. Especially when we knew guys are age were buying up whole stables of boys for just their pleasure alone. It just wasn't fair.

To spur the sales on initially, most stock had been body shaved to show everything they had, and now, at the last minute, most slaves were doing everything possible to sell themselves, even assuming provocative stances with no urging. Some licked their lips at potential buyers, indicating their willingness to suck, some thrust their hard organs out to make it easier for buyers to handle them, while others took the strategy of trying to look deep, yet seductive, as if hidden delights could be found if you bothered to explore their bodies.

"Jees, if I could just borrow $40,000," George said as he looked at the pleading displays all around him. "I buy up at least two more."

"Hell, I'd buy up the whole lot if I could get financing," Bret exclaimed.

"Well, I'd buy up every single black boy here," Jacob added. "I haven't seen one yet that didn't look like he'd be dynamite in bed."

"As you know," Jeff laughed, "I thought I was about as good looking as a man can get. But you know, some of these slaves put me to shame when you really look them over. And I bet they fuck better because they know that's why people buy them. Sort of puts you to shame when you think about it."

At that point, we saw one of the corporate buyers look over two slaves obviously displayed just to attract his attention. One was draped over a nearby "fucking bench" to best display an inviting ass; the other, decoratively collared with bright green eyes, was posed appealingly on a resort-type chaise lounge as if he were already being offered to the resort's clients.

The display worked. Instantly, the two were added to his considerable cache of new slave meat and one could assume would be put into action within the next day or so.

We also saw twins, brothers, and cousins being sold off in various pairings, especially if they looked a lot like each other. Identical twins brought the highest prices, with 'matching' brothers bringing in almost as much. One oil-rich sheik was buying up several pairs of brothers who were handsome, white, and well hung for his own personal harem. He was looking for twins, but what he bought could pass for twins and they all seemed eager to be sold, even knowing where they were headed.

"Quite a day," Jacob said as he leashed his boy for the trip home. "I can't say I'm anything but tickled to death with this boy here. My only regret is that I didn't have another hundred grand in my pocket."

"Bitch, bitch," Bret laughed. "You have the first slave you ever owned - and a handsome lad he is, Jacob, and you're complaining because you don't have more just like him. Just go home, fuck the hell out of him, and then don't forget to share him with your friends."

"The same for you, Bret," Jacob responded.

"And you too," George added. "At least if you want to taste some black meat over the next few days."

"You'll share if you want to taste Latino meat," I injected into the late afternoon banter. "That is, if the boys still alive after our first session tonight." The 'boy' being discussed looked a little nervous at this last remark and shifted a bit, now leashed by his collar beside me..

"Look, we promised to share and share alike," Jeff said. "Let's start tomorrow. We can meet at my place. Bring your new slave with you and we'll trade off for the morning. Then switch again after lunch, and again in late afternoon. Then back to our own boy for after dinner dessert."

"Sounds good, although it's not going to be easy in a two bedroom apartment."

"Who said you have to fuck them in a bed?" Bret laughed.

(I always appreciate some feedback and to see if anyone is reading the story. In this case, I'm particularly interested in ideas as for continuation of the story. Write me at: anonymous4371@juno.com. I'd appreciate it.)