Here is part 10 of my story that you are posting in "authoritarian" and military". I have sent part 10 in a separate post. Please keep them separate and do not amalgamate them, as I would like to keep your archive in line with my hard files.
Pete
TRAINING THE MARINE - Part 10
By Pete Brown. petebrownuk @ yahoo.com
Read all of Pete Brown's stories in groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories
As we flew across the country I again sent for my Russian - I needed some distraction from the cares of my job, as I knew I was in for a more than usually difficult time in LA.
He was still rubbing his muscles and stretching himself when he came in to my bedroom - even on my 777, there's not all that much space, and the slave cages are rather small. I supposed he must be rather cramped after being confined for so long in one of them that's really only designed for keeping slaves locked away for the duration of an air journey.
But when he saw me, he still managed to smile! And I was pleased to see that he quickly sported an erection, even before I had my hands on him - always a good sign, when a slave is genuinely pleased to see you.
Although I had simply laid there and let him fuck me on our first encounter, this time I was in my usual mood and was looking forward to thrusting myself up his extremely fine-looking ass. We started as we had before, with passionate kissing, hugging and stroking of each other, to get the feel of each other again and to let our nerve endings adjust to the sensation of the other's body.
I'm sure he thought he was going to fuck me, because we had quite a little tussle on the bed - it's a lot of fun, rolling over and over, grappling with your partner, each trying to get on top of the other! He was so much more powerful than me - he was in peak physical condition, and anyway had a good 4" and 30 or so pounds on me - that he had to have let me "win" and end up astride him. I pushed my ass back towards his cock, and squeezed his ribs with my knees as I rode astride his stomach. Actually, even strong guys are pretty powerless once you're on top and you push their arms above their heads and hold them there - they can't get enough leverage to sit up or get their arms back into play. It's fun for the guy on top, too, as your cock is held between your hot bodies and if it's erect (as mine is), you can just slide your body a bit over his and the sensation in your cock is amazing as it lies helpless, trapped between you!
"So, slave, you're helpless now. And you thought you were going to fuck me!"
"Not as helpless as you, master. The moment you release my arms, I will wrestle you again!"
We were actually speaking in French, as the slave had very little English and my Russian is rudimentary as I only have a "business" vocabulary, not ideal for the sport we were having. I have translated here, for the benefit of my readers who have not had the benefit of as good an education as me.
"The wrestling was fun, slave. But now it has to stop. You do know why I purchased you, don't you?"
"Yes, master, as a fuck toy."
"Quite so. Very perceptive, slave. You are my current favourite toy, and now the time has come for me to fully explore that magnificent body of yours. Tell me first, though - you seemed very experienced in fucking men, but your records show that you have fathered two children...."
"Yes, master. I was married, and had children. But in the Special Forces we were taught to fuck prisoners as a quick way of getting them to 'break' under interrogation - a lot of the Slavs and other client races consider they are no longer men once a man has possessed them, and break down totally."
"So you did not do it for pleasure?"
"I didn't say that, master. We were taught to fuck the prisoners as a duty. But most of us found it was indeed pleasurable to do that, and out at our remote base - I was stationed for a time above the Arctic Circle - there was not much other pleasure to be had. As an officer, I naturally had the choice of my men for those long Arctic nights."
"Ah, I see. So you are fully experienced, and won't squeal like a frightened virgin when my cock forces it's way into your delicious ass hole..."
"Actually, master, no man has ever fucked me. I was an officer, and a top!"
I laughed, threw myself down on him so our chests were rubbing, and kissed him again. Clamping my mouth to his, I continued to hold his hands above his head with one of mine, whilst I pinched his nose tightly closed with the other. He was now totally dependent on me for his breath - he could only breathe in and out via my mouth, and I quickly established the pattern of breathing in though my nose, exhaling through my mouth, breathing in through my mouth and exhaling through my nose, and so on.
I hugely enjoy the feeling of total dominance this gives me over the man underneath - he's totally in my power. I have the whole of his warn, naked body underneath me. My leg, jammed between his forces our cocks together, and by moving my hips I can get waves of pleasurable sensations. However much he struggles he can't throw my body's weight off his, or get his arms into any sort of position to be able to do anything. And as long as I hold his nose closed and our lips together, he knows he is totally dependent on me for oxygen. It's amazing for the man on top to feel the hot breath of the slave when you allow him to breathe out into you, but for the slave the sensation is there all the time - he only feels his master's breath, both in and out.
After a couple of minutes, I allowed him to breathe freely again, but kept him otherwise pinned down. He was gasping slightly - there's no real need, as providing he lies still he can easily get enough oxygen this way - but I think he knew he had been totally subjugated and was relishing the feeling of freedom he now had.
My face was above his, and I was looking deep into his eyes. He seemed to relax, and at that very moment, I clamped his nose again and continued to make him breathe my stale breath.
But I tired of this eventually, and wanted to get to more serious business.
"So, slave... Now you know something that an experienced master can do - you did actually enjoy being totally helpless and utterly dependent on me, didn't you?"
"Actually, yes, master."
"Good. So now your lessons will proceed and you will realise what you have been missing all these years - a skilled and expert master, with a long, thick cock, to take you hard and deep. You are going to learn how it feels to be fucked by an expert. And as you are a tough, brave ex-member of Special Forces, I know that I do not need to restrain myself. Even though you are a virgin, I will fuck you with all the vigour I usually expend on my most experienced bed companions. I'm not even going to start with you on your belly - we're going straight to the back fuck, as I want the maximum length of me inside you; I want you to experience the full pleasure and pain of the totality of my cock."
"I'm going to release you now", I continued, "But the games are over. No more wrestling, just fucking. When I get off you, I want you to masturbate yourself, and let the cum pool on to your belly, whilst I make an important phone call."
I got off him, and went to check on progress on the LA deal. When I went back to the bed, I was surprised to see that there was no pool of cum!
"You defy me, slave?"
"Master - you can't make a man masturbate himself just like that.... It's not right."
"Foolish slave! It was for your own good. I was going to use that cum to lubricate my entry into you. But as you have chosen to disobey my orders, we will do it dry! Now, spread your legs, bend your knees, reach down and grab your ankles, and pull them as far towards your head as you can. I want that ass hole of yours fully exposed."
Somewhat less quickly than he had previously started his sex play, the Russian obeyed. He was fair skinned and blond haired, so there wasn't the usual deep contrast between the moist pinkness of his ass hole and the surrounding tissue. But his pucker was all that you would want it to be - fully exposed to me, and inviting.
Whilst it's all right in theory to talk about dry fucking, and the additional pain that causes the slave, it's often overlooked that it's a problem for the master, too. Those first few thrusts into a dry hole are not altogether pleasant, until you get the slave's own ass juices slicked over your cock. So in spite of what I had said, I bent down and spat liberally on to his pucker to leave a big gob of spit, then massaged it in to his hole with my finger. Further spitting onto my own hand allowed me to lube my own cock to a certain extent, and then I was ready.
I knelt in front of him, and pushed on his thighs telling him to pull his ankles harder, as I wanted his ass ever higher in the air. To encourage him, I gave him a couple of sharp, hard slaps on the exposed underside of his ass - I could see his whole body flinch. Then I judged him to be ready, and shuffled my body forward so that I had to bend my ass backwards to be able to get my massive erection in-between my body and his hole.
I moved my ass forwards, and the tip of my cock made contact. I always like that first touch, as I may have mentioned, when you first feel the warmth of the slave against your cock head, and on this occasion I prolonged the pleasure for myself by grasping my cock and gently manipulating it so that the cock head teased itself all round his hole. Exquisite!
But enough of this, I thought, and pushed myself forward. The slave clearly was a virgin, because it was really hard to get my head inside - he was obviously totally unused to relaxing and just allowing it to happen. But once in, I could feel his sphincter gripping the shaft of my cock as if in a vice. I looked down at the slave, and saw his eyes were closed.
"Look at me, slave!", I commanded. "I want to see your eyes as I fuck you."
As I started to push myself further in, the slave started to make those low grunts and moans that come from deep down in the chest - I've often noticed that even slaves with quite pleasant midrange voices seem to descent an octave or two when making these primeval sounds.
You know I'm not unnecessarily cruel to slaves, so contrary to what I had said about just fucking him hard, I did give him at least six slow, gentle thrusts when I eased myself up and down inside him, very slowly. The slave's eyes were rolling, as if in a deep passion, and he was muttering over and over a word in Russian that I knew to be an expletive... A lot of slaves say "yes, yes, yes... " as you're doing his, I've noticed, and some say "fuck, fuck, fuck...", so I suppose this Russian was in the latter category.
But after this initial "breaking in", it was time to get down to business properly. With no warning, I changed my stroke and started to pound him hard, allowing my pubic bone to crash into him. And I did it fast - pulling back and thrusting in again as quickly as I could. The slave's gentle cries turned to shouts, with each one coinciding with the "slap" sound as my body slammed into his and my belly hit his ass.
He was one of the best fucks I have ever had. Whether it was because of his superb physique, or just because I'd taken a real liking to him, I'll never know. I wanted to go on for ever, and can usually control myself to a great extent. But I'd hardly had fifteen thrusts when I felt myself shooting massively inside him.
As you do, I collapsed forwards to lie on his body, and relished the hot warmth of him as our two sweat-covered bodies lay together. To my surprise, he lowered his legs but then wrapped his arms around me - and it was so tender. He used just enough pressure to make me feel he was holding me tight, but not so much that my breathing was inhibited. It felt so comfortable and so right - this was surely what real men do with each other after passionate sex, irrespective of whether they are men or slaves.
I leaned up and kissed him, and he responded passionately, And I could feel his own cock now erecting massively, trapped as it was under my belly.
He was the first to speak (this tendency to take the lead would have to be beaten out of him in due course, unfortunately, as it is not seemly in a slave).
"Thank you, master". He said that with real feeling, and I could see small tears falling from the corners of his eyes.
"So, slave, your first fuck. Did I hurt you?"
"Yes, master. It was the most unusual pain I have ever experienced. One moment I wanted desperately to stop, and the next moment I wanted it to go on and on.
I never knew that such pleasure and joy was possible."
Eventually I pulled out of him, and was pleased to see that my slave handler had prepared him - there was no unpleasant crap on my cock. I thought of teaching the slave the next step in servicing a master, and having him clean my cock with his mouth, but instead felt like talking and decided it could wait until I had showered.
"So tell me more about life in the Special Forces."
"It was a real man's life, master. You and your comrades training, working and living together. All young, fit, tough and strong, serving our country. Many men are inducted into our army, but you have to volunteer for the Special Forces - I never wanted to do anything else, as the rigorous training and harsh life really let a man prove to himself and his comrades that he is a man."
"Tell me about the sex."
"Well, master I went into the training battalion when I was 18. Like all young virile men, I masturbated at least three times a day, as did all my comrades. We lay in our bunks at night and in the morning, beating away, and we all knew we did it, but no one talked about it. I was married at 20 to a local girl near our base, and of course I fucked her at every opportunity, as young married men do. It was only when I went into the special squad that I even knew you could fuck a man."
"And did you enjoy it?"
"Not at first. But once I realised that a man's ass is in so many ways better than a woman, I began to look forward to the sessions where we were given prisoners to practice on. I loved the power it gave me over the prisoners, to threaten them with being fucked, then to show them my erect cock - and, master, you will know that I am exceptional in this area. And finally, the taking of the prisoner, his cries, the sensation as I pistoned in and out of him. In fact, I stopped fucking my wife, and that was probably the start of her divorcing me."
"But you also fucked your comrades?"
"Only after we were posted to the Arctic base - you wouldn't do that usually. The nights were so long, and there was nothing else to do. The climate was terrible, and there as nothing but frozen waste outside the warmth of our huts - I think we got together and fucked for companionship, and as a method of feeling something human, faced with that desolate wilderness. I was a junior officer by then, and rank has its privileges and its responsibilities - I could take my pick of the enlisted men, but of course they could not be allowed to fuck me. And there were no other brother officers at my outpost."
"You were still enjoying life in the army?"
"Oh yes. We still trained hard, and I really enjoyed the life. Commanding the men was an added bonus, and I knew that I was well thought of - I had every prospect of promotion."
"So why did you leave?"
"Because the country ran out of money! Half the armed forces were stood down, and I was in the unlucky half.
Of course I couldn't get a job, as the army training does not fit you for most things in civilian life. So I tried to go into business for myself, and had to borrow money at exorbitant rates of interest from the local loan shark. When I failed to pay them, the Mafia took me, and the next thing I knew I was being sold in a slave marked in Hong Kong."
"You seem happy enough now..."
"Well, master, compared to being in the forces in the later days, or without a job at all, at least I am fed and housed. Since I was first sold, I have been trained - if anything, the exercise programme was harder than that we used in the Special Forces - and I can feel the power and strength in my body again. That was almost the worse thing about being out of the forces - I could feel my body deteriorating day by day, as I did not have enough food, or enough time to keep it in perfect condition. And I'm a happy person generally"
His mouth had fallen into one of his broad smiles as he said this, and I could see his perfect white teeth glinting in the overhead lights.
"I suppose I'm lucky, actually. I thought I was going to be sold to a Chinese, and I'm not sure I could stand one of those tiny men with little cocks trying to fuck me... I guess it was fate that brought that specialist dealer to HK for that auction, and he saw my potential. And now I'm with you."
"I don't like being a slave, but I think that with you as my master it will be a whole lot better than with many others. In fact, in spite of being naked all the time, I don't actually feel like a slave - it's not all that different from being in the forces."
"Mind you", he continued, "When I was trying to lie all cramped up in that tiny cage, with your slave handler reaching in to feel my cock and balls, and having just to piss as I lay there and being hosed down twice a day, it really did emphasise my position.
I knew I was a slave then, as I did when that branding iron burned your mark into my ass."
"Good, interesting.", I replied. "I will think on about what you have said. Now, I'm afraid, you must return to that cage as it's the only place for you whilst we are on the soil of the USA. But as soon as we head back towards home, I will continue your education and I promise you will find it as exciting as the bout we have just had.
I summoned the slave handler, showered, and spent the rest of the two hours before landing simply sitting and thinking. Sometimes the foolish think you're being idle when you do that, and there's a huge tendency for modern businessmen to be constantly busy with meetings, presentations, reading and sending e-mails, and making incessant phone calls. In my view, however, you need time to reflect and plan with absolutely no interruptions. Especially if you have an intellect like mine, you need to be able to focus it on your problems.
When I got to the LA office things were even worse than I thought. I'm not even certain why I was in LA - we were contracting with the State government, and they were in Sacramento! Why were any of my fools of managers in their offices in LA rather than up there where the power and influence was? It's not as if this was an insubstantial piece of business - the Californian economy is after all by itself the world's second biggest!
I had to listen to the usual presentations about "progress" - there had been none. And it was mostly excuses for why they were failing - do these idiots not understand that I have heard it all before?
There was only one person in the room with any sign of intelligence - a youngish guy of about 35, who almost winced as the President of my US subsidiary turned over each new foil.
After about 10 minutes I said "Stop this nonsense! You have made no progress since our last video conference, and I did not come here just to listen to this pathetic catalogue of excuses. Do you have anything new to say? Do you have any fresh ideas on how we are going to get them to sign - from where I'm sitting, it looks as if they might contract with the Japanese instead!"
All the senior executives sat there in silence, looking down at the table and fiddling with their pens and pads.
"Well, does anyone have anything to suggest?", I demanded.
After a pause that looked as if it was going to last for ever, the young guy got to his feet and, looking at me, said "Sir, I had a plan to attempt to divert this disaster, but the Board rejected it."
There were shouts of "get out" and "We told you NO" and "It's illegal" from some of the executives.
"Well, gentlemen, at least this young man does have a plan, which is more than the rest of you. You are all dismissed."
The President said "Shall we meet again tomorrow, sir?"
"When I said 'dismissed', I did not mean the meeting was at an end. I meant you are all dismissed - let go - fired - sacked - terminated. You have almost let the biggest contract our corporation has ever had in its grasp slip out of reach. You have been almost criminally inactive. And you have run out of ideas. You are useless to the corporation, and I have now let you all go."
"What about severance pay... My contract....." One began, but I shut him up in mid sentence.
"No severance pay. All contracts are terminated. If you sue, I will parade your incompetence through the courts, and your chances of re-employment with anyone else will be nil. Now, all of you, get out! Get right out. Leave the building immediately."
Turning to the young man, I continued "This room is too big for a meeting of two. Take me to your office, and explain your solution."
He led me to his office, which was on the executive floor. On his door it said he was a VP - well, we have enough of those. I guessed he was one of the many at the level just below executive manager, who is desperately trying to find a way to make that last dramatic step upwards to real power! On his desk he had photos - standard executive house with a couple of big dogs in the yard, and a woman, presumably a wife, with three children. Standard suburban executive, with standard suburban executive wife and kids - how dull, and what a pity - he was actually quite attractive.
"Cut to the chase! I have no time for niceties. What do you propose to do?"
"Sir, our only hope now is bribery. And I'm afraid we've left it late - a few hundred thousand dollars earlier in the contract and we could have fixed it: there's a guy in the state's contracts admin who would have 'lost' the Japanese contract in the files somewhere, and his bosses would never have been any the wiser. Now we're going to have to play in the big leagues, and if you want to do it, you'll have to pay several million dollars - about ten, I would think - to each of several senators."
"Excellent thinking! This is exactly the solution I had come to as I flew here. I have been in this situation before, and bribery is the answer. And don't worry about the expense - even if we have to pay 60 million in total, it will still leave us with an extraordinary level of profits."
"But tell me", I continued, "Why didn't any of those fools in there go along with your plan? Surely they could see all other avenues were hopeless?"
"Yes they could, sir, but it is of course illegal here, and they fear the heavy jail sentences the Californian Supreme Court would impose if they were to be found out."
"But you don't?"
"No, sir. You have to take risks in business, that's my view. And personally I would be prepared to risk it - look, sir, I'm one of a whole raft of VPs here, and I'm 35. I want to be running this company by the time I'm 40, but there's no way I could see of achieving that - most likely, I'll be let go in the next round of 'corporate down sizing'. I've worked my balls off to get this far - 16 hour days, seven days a week. But to get to the 'executive' level, that's not enough - all your VPs are smart, we all work hard, and only a very few of us are going to make it. If it's going to be me, I need either to have friends in very high places, or extraordinary good luck, or both! I'm prepared to do anything - anything - to get to the top."
"What does your wife think about all this extraordinary hard work and long hours?"
"We have a pact, sir. I work, and she looks after the house, the kids, and the social diary. When I said 'seven days a week' I was exagerating a bit - I only do that eight or nine times a year. The rest of the time I keep Saturdays mostly free for the family. We agreed that that's how we would work our marriage, as she, too, wants to enjoy the finer things in life when I finally truly make it to the top."
"And, if you don't mind me asking, do you still find time for sex with her? I see you have three children...."
The man was blushing, and I thought that even now he was going to waste it all by being impertinent, or uncooperative.
"Yes, sir. We have a complete marriage, shall I say. We always make time."
"I now know you're prepared to break the anti-corruption law to get to the top. Tell me how much you REALLY want to succeed."
"I would do anything - anything. I have always wanted to be the President and CEO of a major corporation, and your US subsidiary is one of the Fortune 100. I want to run this company for you, and I would do anything to get to the top - break the law, claw my way over my peers, ruthlessly use the ideas of my subordinates. You know, kiss ass, anything..."
"Kiss ass? Ah yes, that quaint American phrase for being polite to your superiors. I suppose you are regarded as something of a cocksucker by others in the organisation?
"Yes, sir, unfortunately I do have the reputation of being a bit of a bastard."
"Well, on your climb to the top, would you really suck cock? Indeed, have you ever actually sucked cock?"
"CERTAINLY NOT, sir! I'm a married man!"
I leaned forward, and lowered my voice.
"Well, here's the deal. Prove to me how much you want to get to the top, by putting aside your prejudices and sucking a cock."
"Sir, you want me to... You want me to..... Suck you?"
"No, not me. But I want to see you suck cock before I will promote you - I don't like the thought of having men working for me who have irrational prejudices. Show me that you can, in the cause of your own advancement and that of the company, do something that you seem to find totally repugnant, and the prize will be yours. Will you do it?"
He looked at me, stunned. But he did have that fire in his belly that I need in key subordinates, because after only a moment or two he said
"Sir, yes. I'll suck as many cocks as you want, sir, in exchange for the presidency of your US subsidiary."
"Excellent. Call my car, as we need to go back to my plane. We're flying to Sacramento, and on the way, after you have sucked a very special cock, you shall tell me which people need to be bribed, and we will go and do it together."
He was actually overawed by the magnificence of my plane and the space I had for my private sitting room and office. But his amazement turned to complete astonishment as we jumped the usual evening queue of 15 planes waiting for take off clearance and headed down the runway immediately - as an experienced traveller around the US on my business, often held at airports, he was beginning to understand my power to make things happen.
He did suck cock, of course - I had the Russian brought in by the slave handler, and his eyes nearly fell out of his head at he say this big, splendid, naked man standing in front of him. He had no experience or expertise, so in some ways it was rather dull, but in other ways quite funny - he actually tried to get the whole of the Russian's huge swollen cock down his throat, and had to stop for a couple of minutes in order to be able to get his coughing and spluttering under control after he gagged it.
When the Russian had been taken back to his cage, I commended him on carrying out his part of the bargain, and congratulated him on becoming President and CEO.
"And", I continued, "When you next visit me at head office, I will introduce you to other pleasures of the flesh that you have probably not so far experienced."
"Now - about Ts & Cs : You can cut your own salary and benefits package".
"The money is unimportant to me, but I suspect you really want this job for the power it brings you anyway, and the money is a secondary consideration to you. But in any case my most senior executives rarely cheat on me - I can be vengeful, and I think you would not like to be here on my private jet again, but that time naked, being taken to the holding cage by my slave handler!"
We spent the rest of the journey with him telling me who was to be bribed, and planning how the money could be transferred to them inconspicuously: I know that it's no use offering senior politicians suitcases full of cash, as you now cannot dispose of it easily without triggering reports to the IRS whenever 10,00 dollars passes through the system - and there are an awful lot of 10,000 dollars to be processed in a 10 million dollar bribe. So you have to be able to go to them with a "package" - a set of well thought our measures for getting the money, or its equivalent in stock options, or whatever, to them completely inconspicuously. He did spend three minutes on the phone, too, telling that wife of his about his promotion, and warning her he would not be home for a few days!
I was intensely irritating to have to hang around Sacramento for several days, as I really did want to get back to my marine. If you want to fuck a man physically, you can just go up and ask him - sometimes he'll say no, and sometimes he'll say yes. But if you want to offer him 10 million dollars as a bribe, a simple question will always get a 'no' answer. So you have to approach your subject gently, first meeting the man in his office, then taking him to dinner, then offering him a political donation, and then, ever so gently, pursuing the idea of transferring a large sum to him! I needed all my skills as a negotiator, and needed to call in many favours just to get time to see these people in the first place - I think that several senators' secretaries were surprised at how many meetings with them were cancelled at the last minute in those few days, so freeing up their time (meetings with people who owed me, or one of my companies, favours). My new CEO was a joy to work with - he had a subtle, political mind, and a great skill at dressing up quite outrageously unlawful acts as tiny indiscretions!
You will be pleased to know that we succeeded, and the contract was secured for us. So I had two pieces of successful business to celebrate on my way home - the contract itself, and a CEO of my North American subsidiary who was a man after my own heart - clever, subtle, political, completely unscrupulous in order to succeed. Even better, he was afraid of me, having seen my power in action.
Actually, I had had time for a little private business too. In a lull between meetings I had flown up to Seattle as another of my favoured dealers - who specialised in exotics - had offerings that he said were potentially of interest. I will warn readers who are themselves planning to contact slave dealers to be just a little careful, as in the trade, "exotics" can have two meanings.
Some lesser dealers, at the grubby end of the market, say they deal in "exotics" when they mean the grossly fat, the broken down old, the lame, the blind, eunuchs, men turned into parodies of women, and all the other dross of the slave trade that no thinking master would ever contemplate owning: you have to remember that it costs to keep a slave in terms of food, medical attention, housing, and so on. So why buy a piece of broken down slave flesh when you could have a strong, hardworking young male?
My dealer of course catered for the extremely rich with exclusive and refined tastes. His "exotics" are the rare prizes that only come on to the market occasionally, and which masters delight in owning to display to their guests. Everyone knows that these "exotics" cost, proportionately, far, far more than the flesh itself is worth, and we take an almost perverse pride in parading to others our lack of concern for the fabulous sums these slaves cost. It's rather like men in America who own lavish cars, costing hundreds of thousands of dollars - they never really use them for their intended purpose, and the vehicles are excessively expensive: but everyone then knows you can afford to lavish money that way.
The dealers first offering was a perfectly matched pair of identical twins. They were 20 years old, and were in absolutely prime physical condition, as you would expect. I didn't bother to enquire about their former life, as the work that had been put into them before they were offered for sale had obliterated all traces of it - they could have been the normal sort of grossly overweight American teenager for all I know, but they were now exercised into the peak of physical perfection. Broad shouldered, narrow waisted, bubble butted, long fat cocked, they were a dream of young manly perfection. To get one such man would send many master's heart racing, but to see two, absolutely identical, was almost beyond belief.
The dealer offered to let me inspect them for as long as I liked, and challenged me to find any differences between them (offering 20% off the price if I could!). It wasn't interesting to do this, however, as I did not want the men (and in any case I suspected that any tiny differences, such as a mole on one not on the other, would have been excised in the pre-sale preparations!). Physically perfect and beautiful as they are, the two slaves were obviously totally used to each other - I supposed they had shared everything since they were babies, and were completely at ease with each other. They must of course have been lovers since they could first erect their cocks, and I have found before that twins and brothers in general are sometimes so engrossed with each other that they can never properly consider the interests of other sex partners. I do not like it when I am fucking a slave and I can see from the look in his eye that he is really thinking about his brother, even if the other slave is not in the room!
However the second offering was something I had been after for a long time - a father and son pair! You'd be surprised how difficult it is to actually buy a father and son - yes, I know I can have hundreds of such pairs from the slave farms, but that does not really count as the slave pups do not grow up living with their sires - it's a purely one-off act for the sire to cover the dam, and then he takes no further part in rearing the pups to maturity. No, I mean a proper father and son - a couple where the father has reared the son, and has seen him grow up, but where he has not (yet!) fucked the son.
There are several reasons for his scarcity - mothers tend to be around, so making the removal and enslavement of either the husband or son difficult as too many "missing persons" reports are undesirable. Indeed, even with the current high divorce rate, fathers and sons tend to be "visible" generally in society, in jobs and so on, and not easy to "take". It's relatively easy to enslave single men who fall through the cracks in society and are homeless, or on alcohol or drugs, or drifting around the country idly.
There again, there is the problem of age, especially as men are tending to breed later in life now. I like the slaves I am going to use personally to be at least in their twenties (they need time to have got properly mature muscles, and 18 and 19 year olds are still growing, however delicious they look at first sight), and not more than 40 as I do not want slaves older than me in my bed. That means that in practice you have to find a father who sired the son when he himself was between 15 and 17 or so, and this is getting rarer and rarer. And finally you have to consider general body condition: young Americans are mostly in a disgraceful state, and it's only the relatively few who take sport seriously, or who are in the forces, who have bodies that are even worth considering. Add to that the need to find a father in shape, too - with so many men doing sedentary work, this is difficult as well.
The pair the dealer had were, however ideal. As they were herded onto the stage you could at once see the family resemblance - same general features, same general body shape, the primary difference being that the son was, as you would expect, slightly less well developed than his father, but a couple of inches taller. The dealer told me that the son was 21, and a college football player - I could see that his general musculature, particularly his strong legs and muscled ass, would fit him well for that. The father was 38 and had been, until recently, an Army sergeant. Since leaving the army in disgrace (he had struck a superior officer in frustration at some particularly idiotic order, it seems - the dealer had researched this from old comrades, as he official record just says "unsatisfactory conduct") they had moved several times in quick succession. There were no known living relatives.
You could tell that they were newly enslaved, as it needed two slave handlers, with electric goads, to get them out onto the stage in front of us. They had not lost that look of shame at having to stand naked in front of us - or naked in front of each other, possibly, as I know a lot of American men never expose themselves to their sons, and sons tend to hide themselves from their fathers with the onset of puberty.
I was so excited at the sight of them that I almost made the dealer an offer there and then, but my good judgement prevailed and I decided that I should do my usual close inspection that I would for any expensive slave purchase. I had the handlers bring them down to me, and went to examine the son first - a very superficial examination, as I could see that he was generally in excellent condition - but I did want to verify that his balls were as good as they seemed to be, hanging in their sac low behind his above average cock. As I went to cup the balls in my hand, the father shouted an obscenity at me and had to be felled by the guards with their electric goads before he could actually strike me. As he lay writhing on the floor in front of me, the son broke free and knelt by his father, trying to comfort him. The sight of the two good looking men, naked in front of me, showing these signs of family loyalty was almost too erotic to bear.
Telling the handlers to keep the father on the floor, threatened by a goad, I had the son pulled to his feet and decided that it would be amusing to conduct a more intimate examination of him. So I had a handler force him to bend over a chair, and I probed his ass with my finger. He was, as I expected, a virgin - or, at least, he appeared to be, judging by the way he writhed as my finger went in: he was not used to being treated in this way.
The father continued to shout obscenities at me, and would have gone to his son's aid had the goad not been hovering above him. You could tell by the way his whole body was contorting and his muscles were all tensing that he was in full "fight" mode, and all the other signs of that primeval reaction were there, too - the raised temperature, causing him to flush all over, and the outbreak of sweat all over his body. This was excellent sport!
"Your turn now", I said looking at the father, and gestured for the guards to make him bend over that same chair.
He, too, seemed to be a virgin, but the exploration of his ass was a much more enjoyable experience - his age and constant hard work in the Army had given him much more muscular buttocks, and I had to order him to reach behind with his hands and pull them apart so that I could gain access to his hole. This was, of course, only accomplished with several threats to use the goad on him, and on his son, if he failed to co-operate!
Finally, I decided the father needed to be humiliated so that he could understand who was in charge here. So I had him stand up, then told him I needed to verify that he was fertile, and that he should masturbate so that I could see the volume of cum he shot!
I'm sure he had never jerked himself off in front of other men before, and certainly did not appear to have done so in front of his son. He refused initially, of course, and there was no point in threatening him with the goad - a man cannot cum if he's screaming in agony on the floor. It's relatively easy in these circumstances to have your will prevail, however, so I looked at him and simply said
"If you are not jerking off within ten seconds, the handlers will use their goads on your son."
That did the trick, of course, and with his head bowed low in shame, he reached down for his cock and started to jerk himself off. When he had a satisfactory erection and looked as if he was about to cum, I commanded him to stop. This arrogant man needed to really understand the power that I wield, and to know that there were deeper levels of humiliation to which I could subject him. So I commanded him to spread his legs apart, then told the son to lie down, on his back, between his father's legs so that his body and face were in front of his father.
With his son looking up at his cock, the father then had to continue to masturbate - and when he came, his cum of course shot all over his son's body and face.
Rubbing the tip of my shoe over the son's chest, now slicked with cum, I looked at the father and said
"Most satisfactory! A really good load. I think you two will make an excellent addition to my pleasure slaves. I can't wait to see how your son shoots, and, indeed, I might even arrange a little shooting contest between you!"
They had to use the goad then, he was so enraged. I wondered if I could in fact tame him at all, but as I saw the son lying there and trying to help his father who had been felled to fall by the side of him, I was again overcome by the sheer eroticism of the possibilities these two presented. I knew that it would be worth going to considerable efforts to do truly train them to accept my will.
I really did not bother to argue with the dealer, and just paid the asking price. It's sometimes good to show the lower orders that you do not stoop to their level and haggle like a servant sent to a shop. I told the dealer to deliver them to my plane, as I would take them home with me, rather than having them shipped internationally using the usual methods for the transport of living slaves.
As soon as the final bribe had been paid and the contract was ours, I sent my new CEO back home to his wife in one of my other corporate jets, and gladly gave the captain of my own aircraft the order to set off for home.
Once in the air, I paid one of my rare visits to the slave holding area at the rear of the aircraft. I wanted to ensure that my handler had obeyed my orders, and was of course not disappointed.
I have already told you that my big Russian was somewhat cramped in the transport cage, but I have not told you that my orders to him on receipt of the father and son were that they were both to be caged together! There was just room for them, but they were of course in the most intimate contact - this was the first lesson they were to be taught, that they should get used to the feel of each other's bodies. If you make two men lie together naked for two days, they can't help but experience each other's smells, each other's sweat, and the feel of each other's cock as they erect as all men do periodically.
My transport cages also had another feature - there was no provision for pissing (although each cage had a water fountain on its door). The Russian was in the cage above them, and in order to relieve himself, he had had no option but to allow his piss to pour down onto the pair below. And they were so intimately close that they had no possibility of avoiding it - or, indeed, their own piss as they could not move apart or turn over. On long flights the slave handler would of course hose the cages down to keep everything sweet, but I know a lot of slaves don't like to feel piss trickling over their bodies.
It would have been good if I could have started the training of the father and son there and then - the tedious journey back across the world would certainly have been enlivened by seeing them start to play some of the games I had in mind for them. However the father's fury and general strength had made me cautious, so instead I told my handler to unlock the Russian.
He got down with that easy grace I had now seen him exhibit several times, and immediately started a brief program of stretching and exercising. Truly magnificent - a really good purchase, I thought again.
I gave him the honour of having my arm around him as I led him forward, and we spent eight hours altogether just enjoying each other's bodies - I even let him fuck me again at one point!
He was back in his cage for landing, and I took an hour or so to dictate special instructions about my new purchases, and to deal with the more pressing business items that had accumulated since we took off.
I was of course seething with impatience to return to my marine, and the jeweller had already been put on stand by to attend to me in my chamber the moment I returned.
End Of Part 10