TRAINING THE MARINE - Part 8
By Pete Brown. petebrownuk @ yahoo.com
One of the advantages of having had the slave suck me so comprehensively is that I did not need to spend time before sleeping in fucking one of my bed slaves. So I used the last few minutes before sleep in speaking to my duty PA and instructing him to have the estate tattooist at my office for when I arrived the next morning, and to make arrangements for the trip to the USA that my aides had been pressing me to undertake.
It is surprising how deeply one can sleep when one has an untroubled mind and an easy conscience - as I slipped into sleep I thought of the good I was bringing to the many thousands of workers who rely on my organisation throughout the world, and how my own enlightened attitudes to the treatment of slaves were causing a quiet revolution in our own country. As a leader of society, many others were seeing how my humane methods of treating slaves paid dividends, and a lot of the old practices of regular brutal whippings, automatic castrations, and even amputations of limbs deemed to be "unnecessary" for the job in hand were quietly dying out. Don't get me wrong - of course you still need to whip slaves, and often the only lesson a slave will ultimately take is a really harsh whipping that leaves the flesh in shreds. But it should be just for that - to reinforce a lesson that the slave needs to understand, in a way that he will always remember. Such brutal whippings merely for the master's pleasure are, I think, somewhat unnecessary. But perhaps that's just because I personally don't enjoy them - all that blood spraying around, and half the time the slave's been driven into unconsciousness and is not truly experiencing it anyway.
But I must stop these digressions - I will perhaps save them for my autobiography which I know is eagerly awaited by those who would really like to know how to manage and control a global business empire and thousands of slaves.
When I arrived at my office the next morning, my tattooist was indeed there - looking tired, as he had had to travel the three hours from my estate to the capitol at dead of night. I keep the man occupied on the estate, as in addition to their brands, all my estate workers have their inventory number tattooed on their biceps. And since the introduction of the new PC-attached barcode readers, I have also had standard machine-readable barcodes added: it's so much more efficient to be able to simply pass the line of slaves past a scanner and have the inventory compiled automatically. It also helps the veterinarian, who can simply scan an injured slave's barcode and retrieve his full medical history without the need for the slave to say anything. All in all, barcode technology had brought huge advantages to masters with as many slaves as I have. I really don't understand how, even with the huge number of Overseers they used to employ, they managed the enterprise in my father's day.
I also like to have the slave's name tattooed where it's clearly visible - on the chest, belly, or back of the slave, depending on the type of work he will be primarily engaged in. But the new trend is of course not to bother with names - the numbers coming out of the breeding programme are now starting to satisfy most of the demand, and there's really no need to give this stock individual names. If the slave has grown up in the breeding pens, and goes straight onto a field gang where he will spend his entire life chained to the rest of the gang, doing exactly the same work, what's the point of individually naming him? In these instances, for consistency, I have so far had the slave's number prominently tattooed instead of the name, but my Overseers tell me that this is not really necessary, so perhaps I'll not have it done. I must remember to discuss this at the next meeting of my estate management committee.
Anyway the tattooist was waiting, and we descended to my training chamber where I was pleased to see the slave was waiting, kneeling in supplication as he should.
I commanded him to his feet, and already could see the benefit of the previous day's work: the gold rings flashed enticingly under the bright lights, drawing the eye to the slave's handsome torso. I could see that the slave was not used to them yet, and as he sprang upwards and they "flicked" under hteir own weight, he must have felt a twinge of pain from his still-scarred nipples. That is exactly the effect desired: pleasing to the eye, and a constant reminder to the slave of his status.
Calling the slave over to us, I then showed the tattooist the problem - the "Semper Fi" tattoo on the slave's right upper arm. I do wish that men would not have this sort of thing done - it makes it most inconvenient should they be enslaved, as no master is going to want a slave's body disfigured with designs that he has not himself chosen. It is, as I'm sure you are aware, most difficult to erase tattoos once they have been done, and it is for this reason that I had decided to have the slave's upper arm covered in one of those "tribal" tattoos consisting of strands, rather like strands of kelp waving in the sea, covering him from the collar bone down to the elbow and extending over his back to the shoulder blade. It's fortunate in a way that it was only his arm - I've had friends who have bought "wild" slaves where the slaves have previously chosen to have themselves tattooed on the shoulder, ass, or even pecs, and then aesthetic camouflage methods like this don't really work (and how can you brand a slave in the traditional place, when there is already a tattoo there?).
There were two concerns over this approach, however: firstly, I wasn't convinced that only one arm should be done, as I think that sometimes one of these very heavy all-over patterns can make the slave look overbalanced. And secondly, I intended to have his upper arm banded, and the horizontal gold band might upset the symmetry of the predominantly "vertical" kelp pattern. Bear in mind that as well as hiding the existing silly tattoo, this was designed to make the slave more pleasing to my friends and me, and so these were important considerations.
My tattooist is fortunately a master of his craft, however, and after inspecting the slave closely said that another solution might be possible: the design was primarily an "outline", with only some small areas being filled in with solid colour, and that was red, rather than black. He felt that it might be possible to "zap" the lines of black with a small laser, and tattoo over the coloured solid areas with more colour, this time to match the slave's tan. He pointed out to me that the slave was colouring to a most satisfactory dark brown, as black-haired, rather swarthy types often do, and so this was perhaps an approach worth at least experimenting with.
There would be some pain for the slave, as the laser actually heats up the black ink and causes it to vapourise, causing minor burns all along the line of the tattoo. The burns cause the save pain, but if it meant that I could have the slave's arm effectively restored to normal without the need to cover it with a masking design, I thought that this was a price worth paying. It would take a long time, too, at least four hours, and I asked the tattooist if the slave should be secured to the cage bars to ensure he did not move during this time.
The tattooist told me that here could be problems, particularly when the process had been under way for some time, as the constant small burns tended to overload the sensory system and build to a crescendo. So before I could go to the office I had to make sure that all was properly arranged.
Because of the length of the operation the tattooist wanted to sit, and after we had positioned a chair adjacent to the bars, it seemed that the best way to position the slave was to have him kneel, upright. Thinking about having the slave in this position for four hours, I told him to go and piss, then allowed him to kneel against the bars on the carpeted side of the room - again, I hope you note my consideration for the slave's well being, as kneeling for four hours on concrete would have been much less comfortable.
Lashings of silk then held the slave's torso firmly against the bars, so his body was immovable, and I then stretched the arm out at right angles to his body, and tied it several more times to the vertical bars where they intersected with the arm. The tattooist seemed happy to work with the operating area positioned in this way, and I decided to stay for a few more minutes and observe the process in operation.
When he took the instrument out of his case, I was expecting something rather spectacular. But the standard cosmetic laser he used was barely the size of a large hand torch, and after it was plugged in the tattooist held it comfortably in one hand whilst he gripped the slave's upper arm with the other. He then started to play the pinpoint beam of laser light along the line of the tattoo, and I was fascinated to see the skin erupt as small puffs of what looked like steam popped out. After a couple of centimetres, the tattooist stopped, and gave me a small magnifying glass: I could see that the skin was in fact scalded along the line where the tattoo had been, and was starting to blister as skin does when boiling steam is in contact with it.
The slave's body was tensing and trying to contort whilst this had been going on, and I now saw that his back was covered in sweat. Moving around to the other side of the bars, I observed that his face was similarly wet, and he looked to be in some pain - I was surprised he had not cried out.
"Can you bear it, slave?"
"I think so, master. I survived that, and so I suppose I can survive it for four more hours!"
"I will give you something to help you, slave."
I went to my cupboard, and came back with a standard heavy black rubber cylinder about an inch and a half in diameter and six inches long. Popping it between his teeth, I said
"Bite down hard on this whenever you want to scream. It will help you stop some of the screams, and will muffle those that do escape - it is important that you do not disturb or annoy the tattooist."
Again, this is an illustration of how well I treat my slaves - many masters would not give their slaves an aid like this. I've heard that in the West when these operations are performed the patient is often given a local anaesthetic, but I would not inflict such a thing on a slave of mine - it's too easy for these pain-relieving drugs to become props to the slave's personality, and they never learn to correctly tolerate some discomfort.
Commanding the tattooist to continue his work, and to be sure not to slack as I wanted to inspect progress at lunch time, I went up to my office with high hopes that this would turn out better than I had hoped.
The morning seemed interminable, and I was tempted to look at progress via the camera and my PC, but when I did, all I saw was the tattooist's back and there was no clear indication of how the work was progressing. But at some point he did stop using the laser and took out another tool, and so I supposed that he was now re-colouring the previously shaded areas.
I rarely eat a heavy lunch when there are not clients to entertain, and at lunch time went straight down to the basement. The tattooist said he was finished, and that he had high hopes that I would be entirely satisfied once the burns healed.
"How did the slave react?", I asked him
"There was a lot of whimpering and moaning as the morning progressed, sir, but that's to be expected. As I said, it's rather like a continuous series of scalds or burns, and it does tend to build up. He did pass out at one point, and I stopped for a few minutes. When he came around I retrieved that chew bar you had so thoughtfully provided - it dropped out when he slumped - and gave it back into his mouth."
"And you're sure it will be undetectable?"
"No, sir. To a discerning eye like yours there will always be some marks on the skin there, and a change of texture between the naturally tanned skin and the colour of the tattoo. But to your guests, I expect that it will be unnoticeable. If I may say so, sir, this slave has an exceptionally fine body, and I would think that your guests will be admiring the totality of it. And if they do focus on one part of it, it is unlikely to be the upper arm - I myself have feasted my eyes lower down: his cock is so pleasingly well proportioned for his general body, if I may say so, and once he has been cut, it should be magnificent. Of course I also like those flat, hard stomachs, and his delicious rounded ass cheeks....."
"Yes, tattooist, I see what you mean. It is indeed unlikely that my guests will be looking at his upper arms!"
I dismissed the man, then returned and untied the slave's bindings. As a slave should, in spite of his discomfort from kneeling for four hours already, he remained on his knees until I allowed him to stand. He was clearly desperate to touch the angry red patch all over his upper arm, but I commanded him to leave it alone. I said that when I returned that evening I would use the analgesic cream on him, but I did not want to do so immediately: I am a firm believer that a little pain is good for slaves, and, once again, I wanted the memory of this operation, and how I had been able to order it to be performed, seared into his memory.
I was delayed in returning to the chamber by the need to speak to the USA West Coast in "real time", but was delighted when the slave refused my offer of a soothing cream.
"Master, I have borne this pain for seven hours now, and I can continue to do so. I am an ex-marine, and I can control my body". I liked the "ex" - I was making progress with this slave!
"Your trials are not yet over, however", I replied, "as there is one more thing that remains to be done."
"I do not allow my slaves to have their cock-heads covered, and I believe it is unseemly for any part of the slave's body to be concealed from his master's gaze. All my slaves are cut, and we need to do that to you, too, before you can take your place in proper society."
I called the slave over, and told him to stand where I could reach his cock comfortably. Taking it in my hand, I slid the foreskin backwards and forwards over the head, and noted that unlike on so many uncut slaves, on this one the skin did not fall into unsightly wrinkles when the cock was relaxed - although my ministrations started to cause the slave to become erect, and I had to did two fingernails quite hard into the exposed head to cause it to subside whilst I continued my musings.
"On the other hand", I continued, "It would have something of a novelty value to have you uncut. But I really don't like the skin extending beyond the cock head and forming a little sort of 'spout'. I think I'm going to be daring, and just trim the excess foreskin away so that instead of a full circumcision I cut just enough to expose about half the head and the piss slit."
"It's fortunate that my father attended to the education of his sons, as we won't need a specialist in to do this. Once I was twelve, I used to accompany my father to the slave processing centre where all our estate slaves are dealt with, and father always used to enjoy wielding the knife himself. He was a good teacher, and I can circumcise a slave as well as any man. My father did not even mind me making a few mistakes initially, as he said you could really only learn by making mistakes, and of course my first few slaves were blacks so there was little value in them. I knew he had faith in me when he first let me cut a big, blonde Aryan that he had paid a high price for as a bed slave."
"I don't get time any more, unfortunately, but I still have all my old skill and dexterity. It's rather like learning to ride a bike - once you have it, you can always do it. It will be good to do this to you personally so that you will remember that it was your master's hand that cut you - there are not many slaves that can boast of that!"
"And there's no time like the present! I am going to the USA for a few days tomorrow, and if I cut you now, by the time I get back both your arm and your cock should have healed. I really do want you out of here, performing a useful job of work, so this ability to overlap your healing with my trip is really most fortuitous."
"Master.... Master..... I.... I...."
"I will forgive you for interrupting me, slave, but don't make a habit of it, even if you were going to thank me for the honour I am bestowing on you."
"Master... It's just that I don't think I can bear the pain, master. Please make sure I am securely bound if you are going to cut me down there - I am so sensitive, and if the knife were to slip...."
"Good thinking, slave. You really are learning! Your consideration for me is touching, thinking that I might injure myself with the scalpel."
"And you are right. Take the small table and place it next to the bars, on this side of the room. Then kneel on the table, and shuffle forwards so that your knees and thighs are through two sets of bars and your cock is positioned through the bars between them."
The slave did as he was told, and using my silk cords I again lashed his torso firmly to the bars. I used other cords to secure his ankles to his thighs, and his thighs to the bars.
I went into the cage, and looked at his cock hanging down, defenceless. I had of course had him positioned so that the cock was pointing inside the cage, so that any blood that was shed would fall on the concrete, and not on to my carpet. I then realised that I had not had the slave carry a chair in for me to sit on whilst working, and so I had to do that myself - I suppose it doesn't hurt to do these things for yourself occasionally, as it reminds slaves that you are not helpless and could manage without them if you needed to.
You do need to make sure the slave is truly immobile before starting this type of operation, so I lifted his cock up, and struck his balls sharply. His great scream rang out, but his body remained firmly fixed in place - you can't fake that, as an unexpected slap to the testicles like that would certainly cause movement if any were possible. You do sometimes need to do these things that are, superficially, cruel to the slave - but they are in his own best interests. Best to detect any possibility of movement now, and re-tie him, rather than risk damage later.
There's so much fuss made about circumcision, but basically it's perfectly straightforward. In the West it's either tangled up in religious superstition and requires a lot of ceremony and chanting, or carried out in high-tech medical centres with teams of people in attendance. On the estate, we have a much more straight forward approach - the slaves line up on arrival, and are processed down a narrow corridor. At the end, bars come out to clamp them in position, the cutter's knife flashes, and the whole thing is over in 30 seconds. The line hardly has to stop moving!
This was not going to be quite as simple, as I needed to judge exactly how much to excise: if I took too little, I would suffer a setback and days would be wasted whilst I re-cut. If I took too much, my objective would not be achieved and I might as well have carried out a full, standard cut. So I took a lot of time, easing the foreskin backwards and forwards, judging the effect. And I needed to erect the slave several times, and bring him back to flaccid by a sharp pinch again, as I carried out my detailed examination. I marked the cut line - a fine-tip "magic marker" is excellent for this - by drawing a line all around his foreskin which was the line I would cut to, and when I had finished, I held a small mirror for the slave to see what was to be done.
"It's just a question of running a scalpel along that line, basically", I said. "A few moments of pain, and it's all over. I'll give you a bar to bite on, as I did this morning, but there's nothing to be ashamed of in crying out if you really want to."
In fact, it's not quite as simple as that. For a normal circumcision, it is just a question of cutting.
But here I really did want to be careful as the end of the remaining foreskin would be highly visible as a ring around the piss slit. So I used a cut guard: You erect the slave's cock, and make it as stiff as possible (easy with this slave, as he always reacted well to the feel of his master's hand). Then you push the head of the cock into a small conical metal funnel, and tease the foreskin back up over the funnel - there's always some slack skin to spare. You then have a good firm surface to cut into, and the "magic marker" line should be clearly visible to guide you.
"Ready, slave", I asked. But I did no give him time to reply - even as I asked the question I ran the scalpel quickly around the cut line. Actually, with a very sharp surgical instrument it takes some time for a pain message to be generated, and I had done the major part of the cut before the slave's body reacted and he did in fact scream.
The only thing left - and this is the tricky part, as it makes a big difference to the look of the final work - is to cut underneath, where the foreskin joins the cock head. If you slice vertically downward, you can free some of the residual foreskin from the underside of the cock head, so that it's much more freely moving. This is actually more of a trial for the slave if you want to do it properly, as you need to hold the cock up against the slave's belly, then probe around between the skin and the cock head with a very tiny scalpel - it does inevitably take a minute or two, during which time the slave is, shall we say, "in some discomfort"!
The final thing is to tidy up and get out - and I adopt a simple approach: no need for bandages and so on, providing the wound is clean. So I have a small cylinder of antiseptic to hand, and simply push the first couple of inches of the now-cut cock down into it. It always produces another scream, however brave the slave is - the harsh antiseptic on the raw wound on this sensitive part of the body causes the slave a huge shock. But, after all, it's over in a few seconds.
"I will leave you now for an hour, slave", I said.
"The wound needs to dry out in the air, and the blood needs to stop flowing. It will heal superficially very quickly. You may have noticed as a lad that if you masturbated too much, without lubrication - and young lads do not seem to want to buy tubes of lube, or even use their own spit - you would end up with raw patches on the surface of the cock. But due to the enhanced blood supply down there, those raw patches would soon scab over and the scabs would drop off within a couple of days: quite different from most of the parts of the body, where healing takes longer."
I was able to return in an hour, and release the slave. Then I gave him strict orders about not touching either wound, and told him he could help himself freely to the slave biscuits whilst I was away - although I cautioned him to only feed himself twice a day as usual, as it is important that the body learns to be fed, and then to crap, on a regular schedule.
Finally I told him I expected to see him even fitter and harder on my return, with his tan complete. He must continue to exercise, hard, under the UV lights. He would be almost ready then to take up his duties.
As I was going out of the door, I remembered one more thing he could usefully be engaged in whilst I was away, so I stopped just as I was about to close and lock the door (was this really necessary now, I wondered?) And said to him:
"Oh, and whilst I am away I also want you to review training tape 7 and practice its contents - you'll find all the equipment you need in my training cupboard. Ensure you are perfect in this respect on my return."
"Of course, master."
I've mentioned to you, I think, that there was a small problem in fucking this slave, in that he was not properly clean inside. My cock came out covered in his shit, and as well as being aesthetically unpleasant for me, I also could not enjoy the pleasure of having the slave clean my cock with his mouth. Some masters don't care, of course, and make their slaves clean them even when their cocks are disgustingly foul - indeed, I have even heard it said that for some masters this adds new levels of sexual pleasure as it further degrades and humiliates the slave. But I am a practical person, and there are some prices that are too high: the risk of the slave getting vile diseases at worse, and a very upset stomach a best, are just too great.
Perhaps these other masters only use low-price slaves where it is unimportant if the slave is sick, and where he can simply be dumped back onto the market or sold into the mines. Or perhaps they intend only to uck the slave once, then take a new slave for their next bout so it does not matter about "continuity". But neither of these circumstances apply to me: I really only fuck premium stock, where the cost to me of the man flesh is already very high. And after I have invested more of my time in training the slave to my exacting standards, I want to reap the benefit of this investment and enjoy several weeks of good service from them.
I therefore usually insist on my slaves being completely clean inside before I fuck them, and tape 7 shows the slave how to do this with the enema and douching equipment in my chamber. It can of course be a delightful experience for the master to require his slave to perform this cleaning in front of him - especially for a proud slave, like my current marine, it is a further extreme humiliation that the master deserves to watch (At least for the first time). But I had run out of time, and so the slave would have to practice and familiarise himself with it without an audience. Actually, I don't mind all that much - I do enjoy running my hands over the slave's belly when it is distended by the weight of water inside him, and there can be a certain pleasure in forbidding the slave to "let go" and making him bear the cramping pains from his bowels for a long period - but these pleasures are always spoiled by the general mess and smell. However careful the slave is to position himself over the crap hole, the sheer force of the first expulsion often causes some splashing, and that general smell of faeces always manages to leak out somehow. I just don't like it, and I don't care how many people tell me that it can be fun to indulge in "brown" activities with a slave, it has never appealed to me.
I do not want you to think I'm prejudiced - as a young man I did of course indulge in everything (don't knock it if you haven't tried it, as they say!). But I did not then, and still do not, really see the pleasure in crapping on slaves, or in forcing them to eat my shit.
But each to his own, I suppose, and far be it from me to forbid others from their own pleasures.
In fact, whilst I think about it, I should perhaps remark that this is one of the characteristics of our slave-owning society: we are incredibly liberal! In the West, where so-called liberalism supposedly flourishes, so much is forbidden. Just take the case of something simple like fucking a man - probably one of the simplest sexual pleasures you can take and one that does absolutely no harm. Many in the West who do not want to fuck men try to forbid it, and even go so far as to denounce it as a perversion! No one forces you to fuck another man, after all, and if you don't want to do it, don't. But why try to forbid others from doing what they want - it causes absolutely no harm to anyone else. It's almost the hypocrisy that is worse than the actual laws they enact - they dare to criticise us for our so called "human rights" lapses, whilst denying millions of their own citizens the sexual pleasure they deserve.
However, I digress, and should return to my memoir. Knowing that the slave was good and conscientious, I could be assured that on my return he would be impeccably clean and sweet-smelling the next time I decided to take him.
End Of Part 8