Young Stud

YOUNG STUD

By Pete Brown petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

Read all of Pete's stories at groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories

Part Two

I hate to think how guys who did not have considerate owners would have fared in the next few days. Even with my owner's instructions that I was to have painkillers and so on, it was still fucking terrible! It wasn't so much the actual pain as the branding iron (covered instantly in a thin layer of frost as the moisture in the air condensed on it as they drew it out of the vacuum flask of liquid nitrogen) bit into me, as they'd given me some sort of injection into my big muscle first. No, it was the next day, when my whole ass was throbbing and angry - and my shoulder ached too from where they'd inserted my chip, rather like when you've taken a very hard knock on the pitch and you know you're all bruised.

The tattooing wasn't at all pleasant, either - the neck and forearm wasn't so bad, I suppose - well, once the needle got started, I sort of learned to live with it But doing the huge black letters on my back was a real trial - for one thing, it went on for hours. But it wasn't only the physical pain that the branding, tattooing and chipping caused me, but the fact that I'd had absolutely no choice in this: I know now how a farm animal must feel as it's herded along to be castrated or de-horned or something: it was just the same at this place, when me and the other slaves who had stuff scheduled for them were simply lined up (naked of course - it made us so much easier to control with the guards' prods). I had no choice, none at all - these things had been ordered for me, and, like a dumb beast, I was "processed" so that they were executed. Still, at least I still had my 'skin - the poor guy in the next cell to me had his removed, and he lay there that night quietly sobbing as he contemplated what had happened to him. He came and showed me the surgical bandage around the end of his dick, with its head and piss slit poking out of the end. It had really hurt, he told me, as his owner had specifically ordered that there was to be no anaesthetic used. "The fucker believes that the slave should remember it", he told me, his voice bitter with anger. "He said that whenever I touched my dick in future I'd remember the pain, and that it would remind me that I'm totally in his power."

It wasn't all bad though, I suppose - when they ripped the wax strips off me I shouted out with the momentary "discomfort", but as I lay there in my bunk I decided I quite liked the feel of my balls with no hair on them - they were somehow so lovely and silky as I stroked them as I began to jerk off, and I wished someone had told me before that it would be better. Mind you, I suppose the other guys in the showers after the match would have made fun of me if they'd seen me stripped of hair like that.

I almost got used to being naked all the time, too - well, it seemed almost "natural" as all the guys in the cells around me were kept like that. It made it easy for them to control us as there was so much bare skin to aim one of their prods at if we were taken out of our cells. And housekeeping" was easy, too - once a day one of the guards moved through the cell lock with a hose and simply sprayed everything: us, and the cells, just as if he was cleaning out cattle pens.

They were clearly experts at what they did, though, as things like my time on the sunbed were managed to perfection: I was always just slightly sore from the beginnings of sunburn when I was released from them (yes.... Unlike at fancy clubs and things, I had no control at all: they lowered the lid on me, and locked it down so I had no choice but to lie there for as long as they decided!).

Still, I was glad when they came for me and curtly told me to follow them out to reception at the end of five days - it was so fucking boring stuck in that cell, and although I could talk to the other guys, we didn't have all that much to say. Some of them were angry at having their freedom taken, some were mostly silent as they looked as if they might cry at any moment as they talked about being ripped away from their wives and kids, and some were just sullen. Most of them were in there for really serious stuff - robberies and such like, and even one guilty of rape, who was scheduled to be castrated. They all thought I'd been fucking stupid to have got caught in what was basically a student prank, and I agreed, but it was too late for that now, wasn't it?

In the reception area there was my owner, and, as before, the guy Jeff, who I now knew was a slave, like me. One of the guards went through the "work orders" with my owner, as he carefully inspected my body to make sure all was in order - peering at my tattoos and commenting that they were admirably crisp, then running the tip of one finger along the big 'S' on my butt: I flinched as he did this, and he at once said "Does it hurt still, Steve?"

"No, Boss... But I guess I'm not used to having someone touch me there...."

He smiled, and it was as if he was sharing some sort of joke with Jeff as he murmured "We'll soon change that, won't we?"

He seemed pleased with the chipping, though, and the guard brought up a small instrument that he waved around, to show my owner that my chip was responding properly: he himself peeled off the small plaster they'd put on the wound after the thin steel probe had gone deep into me under my right shoulder to place the thing, and said that it was clearly going to heal totally within a very short time. But when he reached down to feel my balls, as the guard said that he should make sure the waxing had gone OK as they could not offer refunds after I'd left the building, I couldn't help it - I jerked backwards, trying to escape his fingers.

"Easy, boy", he murmured, his eyes locked on mine. "Just stand still, and this will soon be over. I'm not going to hurt you.... I know how sensitive men are down there... I'm a man too, you know!"

"Boss, it's not that... But I'm not used to being touched...."

"Time to start learning then, Steve! Now, spread your legs a bit to give me better access...."

I did, reluctantly, and felt his warm fingers caressing me gently. My dick was resting on the ball of his thumb as his examination proceeded, and to my horror I felt myself starting to go erect as my dick got this stimulation that it wasn't used to. I could feel a hot, red, flush spreading all up my neck and over my face. And it got worse when my owner stood up straight when he'd finished, looked at Jeff, and said "This is a 'live' one, Jeff! Just the merest touch and he starts to spring a boner! He's even worse than you!"

The big man, who'd been watching with interest, grinned again - he seemed to smile a lot - and nodded.

"He'll do!", my owner said to the guard, and took the offered clipboard and pen and scribbled his name on the bottom - I was evidently being "signed for", just as if I was some sort of piece of goods being delivered (which, strictly speaking, in some kind of crazy way I suppose I was).

"Give the poor boy some clothes, Jeff", my owner then said, "He looks kind of ashamed at being erect - although he's no reason to be, given the way he's hung."

Jeff came forward and handed me a small bundle - there were some leather "flip flops" on top, and underneath a kind of athletic vest, and a pair of shorts. No underwear or anything.

I scrabbled around and pulled up the shorts, really glad to be at least minimally covered. Although it was pretty minimal - even with the crutch jammed up tight against my ass crack, the waistband refused to pull up higher than my hip bones and I felt they were in danger of slipping down at any moment. But the athletic vest was quite loose, allowing plenty air around my pits, although it was so short that it didn't come down to meet the top of my shorts and a strip of my stomach was exposed. I stood there tugging awkwardly at this stuff, and then I saw that Jeff was just the same - his hard, flat stomach was exposed, too, and the brief shorts, now that I looked at them more closely, left little to the imagination: I could see the outline of a very large dick, and could even make out that he must be cut.

My owner turned and walked out then, and Jeff nodded at me to walk alongside him to follow. We went out into the parking lot, and I felt vaguely self conscious of the skimpily way in which I was dressed, although having Jeff striding alongside me made it a bit better. We walked over to a big black SUV that was positively gleaming in the sunshine, as if it was freshly polished (as, I was to discover, it was - one of the jobs Jeff and I had was to make sure all our owner's possessions were always in first-class condition).

As we got to it, our owner said "You drive, Jeff. And you, Steve, in the front with him. I have some work to do."

We drove along, and as our owner was working - he had a pile of papers, and his laptop, open on the rear seat - Jeff pressed his fingers to his lips when I began to ask a question, and then whispered that the boss didn't like to be disturbed. I guess this is why the radio wasn't on, either, and so we bowled along the Interstate in total silence. It was another example for me of how my life was changing - I mean, I'd have been playing a CD, and talking to my buddies;

but now, because one man wanted silence, all of us had to comply.

The boss told Jeff to stop at lunchtime at a rest stop, and he strode into the service building, with Jeff and me following. I was desperate to piss now and went to walk off towards the lavatories, but Jeff grabbed my arm to hold me back. Then, when the boss stopped briefly, he said quietly "Permission to go and use the facilities, Boss?"

Our owner nodded and told Jeff to meet him at the SubWay concession, and Jeff nodded to me and we went off together.

"Hey, do we have to ask about stuff like this? I stopped doing that at kindergarten."

"Steve, it's only polite, isn't it? He's our owner, and he might have wanted us for something!"

"Yes, but I'm a grown man, I know when I want to go for a piss...."

Jeff just shrugged. "Look, Steve, it's going to be tough for you, I can tell. I was like you when I was enslaved five years ago. I was just out of the marines, so I was used to taking orders, but even so it was hard to adjust to the regime of being a slave, where your owner has even more control over your life.

And we're lucky - the boss is a good owner, from what I can see: he treats me like a man most of the time, and he only punishes me when I've really pissed him off."

"You were in the marines? What the fuck are you doing as a slave?"

"Well I joined the service straight from school, and it was a great life. I did three major tours overseas, real fighting, and then, at twenty five, I was out! My original time was up, and they wouldn't renew as there's so much unemployment that they find it easier to take on young guys straight from school as they're a lot less trouble - guys like me who didn't make it to sergeant apparently start to cause problems as we get older, so it's easier to throw us out. But I wasn't used to civilian life of course - I soon spent my gratuity... women and vacations, mostly Then when I tried to get a job, well, there aren't any for guys without a college education any longer. And those there were, like labouring, they didn't want me as they said ex-marines cause problems. I should have stopped spending and gone on relief, but I kept charging stuff to my cards... And, well, I guess the rest is obvious: I didn't have the sense to make it across the border to the North before they began proceedings to recover their money, and so I was enslaved to pay off the debt. But, as I say, I'm lucky in that the boss saw me when I was on sale, and bought me, and I've been with him ever since - five years now."

"But what does he use us for? Where does he live?"

Jeff went to reply but we were at the facilities now, and I went to go into the men's room, only to be pulled back by Jeff who pointed out a third door, next to the women's, marked "Slaves".

"This is something else you've got to get used to, Steve!", he told me. "Down here the free folk don't like slaves sharing their facilities - well, not in public, anyway."

As we went in through the door I gave an almost audible gasp, as it was a mixed facility. And clearly privacy was of no concern to the builders of the place, as along one wall there was a row of lavatories (one of which had a really good looking female squatting on it), and the adjacent wall had urinals without any of those modesty panels that stop you taking a peek at another guy's dick. Jeff totally ignored the woman and strode over to one of the urinals and began to piss, and so, feeling really strange at having a woman watch me like this, I did the same.

As we went out, Jeff slapped me on the back and was almost laughing. "Yes, Steve, life as a slave is a bit different - we're not meant to be worried about folk seeing our bodies and such like. You obviously haven't spent much time down here in the south..."

"No."

"Well as we drive along and we get into the real farming country, you'll see that the slaves in the fields are usually totally naked - men and women both.

The boss told me that the plantation owners keep them like that as even the smallest scrap of cloth to cover their nakedness costs money, so why waste it on a slave? And it's easier to cane or tawse them if they slack. But he reckons that most owners who have big herds of slaves like that keep them naked to make sure they understand their status now - that they're no longer men and women, but some sort of animal who is kept in a herd and worked under the whip, and keeping them totally exposed emphasises to both them and free men that they're totally different."

"Men and women together? All naked? Jesus Christ.... Doesn't that cause more problems, with fucking?"

"Well, actually not, they say. There are a lot fewer women slaves than men, so in a herd they're usually shared out and used by all the guys - they reckon it keeps the guys more docile to have free access to a lot of sex, whenever they want it, with a bit of variety.... After all, a lot of free guys waste their time chasing after women I certainly used to - even if they're married, and now there's sex there whenever they want it, so more of their energy goes into work. And then, of course, there are the babies - most of the women get fucked up and pregnant pretty quick, so there's a supply of new slaves always being created...."

"You mean a baby can be born into slavery...."

"It's the biggest source of new slaves now, as illegal immigration has completely dried up after they passed that law that said that all illegals would be enslaved. And most free folk aren't having as many kids, when they know that unless they can give them a college education they're likely to get into debt as there's no jobs, and become slaves anyway. And the boss has capitalised on that, I suppose, that's why we....."

Jeff stopped then as we were back in the main building, and there was our owner holding a tray with some SubWays on them. Jeff hurried over and took the tray from him, then kind of ushered him over to an empty table.

We sat together, the boss looking at Jeff and me opposite him. And there was another subtle change in my status - he'd bought stuff for Jeff and me without asking what we wanted. But I was hungry and bit into my sandwich eagerly, only to have Jeff dig his elbow sharply into my ribs as evidently, I was supposed to wait until the boss began eating before I could tuck in.

I don't like chillies all that much, and after one mouthful opened up my sandwich to pick the remainder out. Jeff dug me in the ribs again and I muttered "What....?", and Jeff hissed back "Eat what you're given, Steve. The boss has chosen it."

The boss was smiling faintly as he heard Jeff instructing me like this, and leaned across to me. "He's right, Steve. Just watch what Jeff does, and you won't go far wrong. I've spent a lot of time training him in the ways I like a slave to behave, and he's had quite a few stripes across his ass as he learned those lessons. If you watch and listen to Jeff, and are properly attentive, you'll avoid a lot of unnecessary suffering."

I wanted to ask him what the fuck he thought he was doing making me eat stuff I hated, but thought better of it until I understood more, and instead just put my sandwich down. Jeff noticed this, though, and muttered to me, as if he was hoping the boss wouldn't hear, "No, eat up, Steve, you've got to keep your strength up, and the boss likes us to eat up everything he buys for us."

Hating it, I did as I was told, though, and finished my sandwich. We went to get up from the table but I hesitated, then said "Boss, please, could I call my folks to let them know where I am?"

"No, of course not."

"Please, boss... They'll be worried about me. And I'm sure you could call collect.... And dad will be down here very quickly - he'll certainly reimburse you for the money you've spent...."

"I said no, Steve. No means 'no', and I don't like my slaves to argue with me."

"But boss, that's unreasonable. You could even make a profit...."

"Listen, Steve, and this is the last time I will tell you. Do not argue with me. And don't ever think again of criticising me! I'm your owner, don't you understand that? And what I say goes. We will not be calling your parents, not now, not ever. When you were enslaved all family ties were broken, and you are no longer anyone's son - your only status is that of a slave, to me. And in any case, I do not plan to sell you: young men like you are a rarity, as most men of your age have the good sense to stay out of trouble down here in the South: if I were to sell you to your father, I would have to go to all the trouble of finding a replacement, and, frankly, I have better things to do with my time. So I want to hear no more of this - the next time you raise the subject, you will be punished."

I went to speak again, but Jeff took my arm gently and shook his head, and I kind of got the message. We walked back to the SUV, Jeff and me two paces behind the boss, and we were soon bowling along the Interstate again, once more in silence. I have to confess I felt myself dozing off - to wake up, of course, with a woody really pushing at my skimpy shorts and making me feel really uncomfortable - it's funny how a lot of riding does that to you, isn't it? But mid-afternoon we turned off, went along some minor roads to a most upmarket looking kind of semi-rural, semi-suburban place, and then in through a pair of impressive gates to drive up to a large, expensive looking mansion.

Jeff parked the SUV neatly and then went and stood by it, clasping his hands behind his back and bending his head slightly, and telling me to do the same. We stood there as the boss went up to the front door and rang the bell, then went inside, to emerge some minutes later with another guy dressed in those kind of very expensive looking "casual" clothes, which, in reality, are anything but, having cost a whole lot more than most people spend on formal attire.

"This is Jeff", the boss said, pointing to him, "The one you booked. But I've got a new boy since then, Steve here.... I could offer his services at a slightly reduced price, as he's not yet fully experienced and not properly tested. What he lacks in experience I suppose he'll make up for in enthusiasm, though - do you remember how you were in your late teens?"

The man looked at me intently, but shook his head. "No, I particularly wanted a blond, and although this new boy is very good looking, I'll stick with the original order. So why don't you come on in...."

"Would you object if I brought the new boy, too? I want him to get as much experience as soon as possible, and watching Jeff would be the start of his training", the boss asked.

"No, sure, the more the merrier! My own son's just back from college, and he's coming along too as he says it's so boring here and he needs amusing."

We trooped through the hallway of the mansion, "tastefully" furnished in mock-Colonial period "antiques", and through a door at the end which, judging by the way the decor changed to one of stark simplicity, presumably marked the demarcation between the free men's part of the house and the servants' (or slaves'?) quarters.

We went on into the huge kitchen, where there was another guy, about my own age and therefore presumably the first man's son, who was chatting - almost flirting, I suppose - with a Mexican-looking girl who was stunning: really sexy looking. As she turned to bow to the man, though, I saw she had a number tattooed on her shoulder, and so knew that she was a slave.

The man snapped at her "OK, Rosita, you know what we're all here for - strip off."

Looking nervously around at the five of us men standing there, the poor girl began to remove her uniform. As her pert breasts appeared I could feel my erection pressing so hard at my shorts that it was almost painful. I could see the young college guy was in the same condition as his immaculately cut chinos were bulging too, and although I couldn't see Jeff, I supposed he must be in the same state.

"Do you want the full performance, or shall I tell Jeff just to get on with it?", the boss asked as the girl's uniform finally slid to the floor and she was standing there in just her panties.

The house owner put his arm around the shoulders of his son, and said to the boss "Well I guess we may as well have the full show.... Randy here spends enough time looking at this stuff on his PC, and we may as well enjoy the real thing."

"You heard the client, Jeff! Do your stuff....", the boss commanded.

In a single fluid movement, almost surprising considering his size and bulk, Jeff pulled his singlet off so he was just in his tight shorts, and almost slid across the room to wrap one big hairy arm around the girl, pull her to him so that her breasts were flattened against his hairy chest, and began to kiss her passionately - no fumbling around with the lips, we could see his tongue was right in and straight down her throat! The girl seemed to at first try to struggle to stop Jeff, but as his hands began to roam up and down her body, stopping to caress her breasts and play with her big dark nipples, her stifled cries started to turn into moans of pleasure, and her legs began to rub up and down Jeff's muscular thighs as she got turned on.

After a few minutes of this sensual stroking, Jeff paused briefly and almost tore off his shorts, and we saw his big thick cock spring up nearly vertical - and there was already a jewel of pre-cum dribbling out of his piss slit. He started to kiss and fondle her again, but now he was rubbing his dick up and down her sweating body, and as he did so she threw her head back, moaning in ecstasy... A movement that caused Jeff's head to go down and he began to nibble her ears and bite at her neck. Jeff was in complete control of his body, though, as without faltering in his pleasuring of the woman, one hand snaked down and casually pushed her panties down, so we were all treated to the sight of her trimmed bush and inviting slit. His big hand almost immediately covered it, and we could see his fingers making their way in, as her cries of pleasure redoubled.

He fucked her then - first pushing her gently back onto the kitchen table, then as his hands continued to roam over her body, he positioned himself between her legs and slid his cock into her. We were then treated to the wonderful sight of Jeff's big, strong, muscled body pumping away, the "S" on his butt almost seeming to emphasise the tremendous power that his thighs were able to exert as he continued.

Apart from the noise that Jeff and the girl were making, you could have heard a pin drop in the room - me, the boss, the house owner and his son were all standing there almost stupefied, and had all but stopped breathing as we focussed all our attention at this spectacle taking place in front of us. Our ears were assailed by the noises of passion, and our noses by the smell of Jeff's sweat that was now streaming down his back. But then it was over, of course, and Jeff slumped forward, taking his weight on his elbows to avoid crushing the girl, as her legs wrapped themselves around his waist as if to attempt to lock him in her.

"Wow!", the home owner said to the boss. The neighbours told me you had the best, and I was a bit reluctant, even so, to pay the fee.... But having seen that, I reckon I've got a bargain: if the progeny is anything like the father, I'll have a really good pup!"

"Yes, dad", Randy cut in. "And if we'd gone to a porn house somewhere to watch that, you'd have paid as much in entrance fees.... And we wouldn't have been so close to the action."

"We aim to please!", the boss cut in. "I don't advertise, and depend entirely on 'word of mouth' recommendations - so please do suggest me to any of your friends, colleagues and neighbours who need to get their bitches into pup. Now I've bought my second stud, I need some new clients."

The father and son both turned to look at me, and Randy said "So this slave here is for hire, too?"

"Yes", the boss replied, " But he's not started yet. But if Jeff's studding doesn't take, we could swing past next month, and by then I'm sure he'll be ready. I don't charge for a re-try, as I think I explained to you. But as we're building the business, I'll let you select which of them you want to use if we have to do a re-try.... Or perhaps both of them, just to make sure.... If you don't mind a dark haired sire?"

"Well, perhaps I'll take you up on that offer, if we have to", the house owner almost chortled. "But I'd think that after an epic session like that, Rosita would almost certainly be knocked up.", then turning to the maid, still under Jeff's body, he said "OK, Rosita, come on, it's all over now...."

"Excuse me, sir....", the boss interjected. "But if you'll be guided by me, you'll leave my slave in her for a few more minutes - he's probably still trickling his juices out as his cock shrivels, and, anyway, it blocks things off and stops his cum escaping: I like to leave them for at least ten minutes to maximise the probability of it taking!"

"Oh, sure.... You're the expert. In the meantime, can we take a look at your new man? I hadn't thought of using a dark-haired stud on Rosita, with her having those very Mexican looks, but your boy perhaps isn't too dark...."

The boss turned to me, and as if it was the most natural thing in the world, said "Strip off, Steve."

I felt myself panicking. "Please....", I muttered frantically, well aware that my dick was rock hard, and not wanting to expose myself to them all, especially not in that state. As it was, it was pretty embarrassing that my shorts were so strained - especially as, when I looked down, I saw a damp patch on them where I must have been leaking as I watched Jeff!

The boss's eyes locked onto mine. "Now, Steve, don't be silly! I'd hate to have to punish you tonight. Come on, now, strip off - I know you've got absolutely nothing to be ashamed of - that's why I bought you, after all."

I looked around desperately, but there was no escape, no hope for me. I knew he'd have me caned or whipped or something... so reluctantly, feeling my cheeks burning with embarrassment, I pulled off my singlet, and then, praying that my erection would subside, I started to push my shorts down - no hope, though, as the moment it was free of the confines of the shorts, my dick was upright.

"Hey, dad, the slave's still got a foreskin!", Randy exclaimed.

"Isn't that a bit unusual?", the man in turn enquired of the boss.

"Perhaps so. It's true that most slaves are 'skinned, and Jeff is of course, as when I bought him a few years ago that was the custom, especially for men in his line of work. But these days.... Well, I think that some potential hirers might like to see how a male pup would look if he breeds true - so I'm thinking of leaving Steve here natural. And, after all, we get so used to seeing niggas naked, and they are universally 'skinned as far as I know, that it's somehow additionally exciting to see a 'skin on a slave."

"...as if seeing a white slave naked isn't exciting enough already", Randy added. He looked me carefully up and down, even reaching out and half turning me around so he could see my rear. "Hey, Dad, this slave is kind of cute - if it wasn't for that big 'S' on his butt, I'd have taken him for one of the guys on my team if I saw him in the showers. Perhaps we ought to use him next time, and I'll get some of my buddies around and make a real party of it. Most of them are always bragging about how good they are at fucking, and it would be kind of interesting to see if they shut up once they'd seen a professional at work."

I ought to have been used to being naked, ought to have been used to having men discussing my body by now, but somehow having this guy do it, someone my own age, who was at college as I had been, made it especially humiliating.

The house owner and the boss then needed to go off and sort out details of payments for Jeff's services , and Jeff and I were left standing there with the son, Randy. Jeff asked politely if there was somewhere he could wash up, or at least if he could use some of the paper towels in the kitchen to clean himself up a bit, but Randy replied "Hang on there a bit - I'd like to compare you two slaves."

Jeff and I looked at each other questioningly, but Randy seemed to know what he wanted as he ordered "Stand back to back, so I can look at your heights. Jeff and I moved to obey, but he then said "No, press your butts and your shoulders together, as I want to compare you properly."

Well, that was really the first time I'd ever been in such close contact with another guy. I could feel Jeff's butt, still moist with all the sweat he'd generated, pressing into mine, and there was a very curious sensation as our shoulder blades pressed against each other. I could feel myself beginning to get an erection again, and desperately fought against it.

"Interesting", Randy remarked generally, not particularly to us, but as a kind of comment to himself. "The older one is slightly taller, but they're both the same proportions: longish legs, and bodies much the same." Then, raising his voice, he went on, now clearly intended for us, "OK, now face each other - I want to see who has the biggest dick. The young one is erect already, but you, the stud who just fucked Rosita - I want to see you with it boned up again. Can you do that?"

I felt sure Jeff would object - I mean, a young college boy oughtn't to be able to order someone to bone up, should he? Especially not when the other guy is a fit, tough ex-marine? But even as I thought this, I heard Jeff say "Sure, yes, sir", clearly not at all embarrassed about what he'd been asked to do.

I really didn't want to do this, but Jeff put one hand on my shoulder, whether to "encourage" me, or to "steady" me, I don't know. I could see the sweat glistening on his body, on his face, and his hair was all wet, too, as he faced me. That special scent of sex, the odd mixture of Jeff's sweat, his cum, and the woman's juices, came up to me as we faced each other. Then Jeff began to shuffle forward, until the tip of my dick kind of "docked" in the remains of his pubic hair just to the side of his dick. A kind of thrill went through me - not just the physical one from feeling the tip of my dick actually touch another guy's pubes - but one of pure eroticism at the thought that this was somehow wicked, but at the same time, very exciting. My erection stiffened, so it was almost painful.

Randy gave a sort of chuckle. Almost to the air, rather than to us, he muttered "I thought so! The older one has a thicker dick, but the younger one's got a longer one."

I was flushing with embarrassment as he now told me to face towards him, then came and stood next to me and reached down to take my erect dick in his hand - I can distinctly remember how his palm and fingers felt warm and moist as they curled around me. His thumb was fiddling with my 'skin, and he stroked it back so that my moist head was fully exposed. "I've always wanted to do that to another guy", he murmured now, his breathing coming in little short bursts as he was clearly so excited. "All the guys at college stand there in the showers and I've always wanted to see what their heads look like, but of course you don't dare touch them, do you? And it's so rare to get a slave with a 'skin..... Yes, next time you come by, I'm definitely going to get dad to choose you to stud the maids!"

"Anyway", he went on, "You two can get dressed now and go outside and wait for your owner."

"Thank you, sir", Jeff responded promptly, but I just stood there silent, amazed at what had just happened to me: Randy was a college guy, just as I had been. And now he was standing there ordering Jeff and me to do all this stuff with each other, and 'skinning me back. It didn't seem right, not right at all. But, as ever, Jeff seemed to be cheerily in charge as he pulled his shorts on, and then gave me a playful slap on my ass, telling me cheerily to "Get a move on, as the boss doesn't like to be kept waiting."

I wanted to ask Jeff what the fuck was going on, but as we walked back to the SUV, there was the boss. As usual, Jeff and I got into the front and the boss sat in the back, and the boss told Jeff to drive off, giving him instructions as to where we were going to be stopping for the night. Then, after a few minutes, the boss leaned forward and patted Jeff on his shoulder. "That was good, Jeff - an excellent performance, if I may say so."

"Thank you, boss."

"Didn't you think so, Steve?" The boss then asked.

"Boss... Well... I suppose so...."

"I thought you were experienced at fucking!"

"Well I am, boss, but, well, you know....."

"Yes?"

"....well, kind of in private."

"It's just the same physical action though, isn't it, Steve?"

"Well yes, of course...."

"...and have you ever fucked anyone the way Steve just did?"

"Well yes, boss."

"So tell me, then - what did you think of his performance? You were clearly very excited by it, as I could see you were boned up....."

"It was pretty good, I guess...."

"Could you do as well, Steve?"

"I don't think so, boss.... I couldn't fuck in public like that...."

Jeff laughed then, and turned briefly to look at me. "I used to think that, Steve! And now look at me."

"He's right, Steve", the boss added. "It's tough the first few times you do it, but once you've lost your inhibitions, it gets easy. And, as you can see, Jeff enjoys it."

"Boss, please, you can't expect me to do that kind of stuff in front of other people..."

"And why not? Jeff does, and you're a slave, just like he is. Remember, Steve, a slave shouldn't feel any embarrassment, or any shame, at doing something his owner commands him to do. There's absolutely nothing wrong with you fucking a slave bitch in front of others if I tell you to - you might not have done that to your girlfriend when you were a free man, but that was then, and this is now. Slaves obey."

"But boss, it isn't right.... What about my right to privacy - that's a basic human right. And you can't say that having to fuck in public isn't 'private'...."

"I don't, Steve! But human rights are just that - something humans have. And you're a slave, not a human any longer: slaves are considered by the law to be like animals - they mustn't be unnecessarily cruelly treated, but other than that, they have no 'rights'. Rights are things that men have, Steve - think about the Declaration Of Independence.... It refers to the self-evident rights of men, doesn't it? Not the self-evident rights of slaves!"

"But Boss...."

"No 'buts', Steve. That's the way it is for slaves, and, as I said, once you've got used to it, you'll start to enjoy it, just as Steve does. But I'm not an inconsiderate owner, am I, Jeff?"

Jeff at once added "No, Boss, definitely not!"

"...so, Steve, we'll break you into your new role gently. You can work alongside Jeff tomorrow as it's a big place we're hired for and the owner doesn't generally want to watch - it's just the nigga bitches on the place who he wants 'covered', and you and Jeff can go at it together - working with Jeff you'll soon get the hang of it: he'll teach you all the tricks of the trade that you might not have picked up from your girlfriends and from talking to your buddies."

"But Boss, what is it we really do?"

"I'd have thought that was obvious! I hire you out to 'stud' slave bitches. A lot of owners want a white slave to cover their bitches as they're looking to make their herds lighter. So you mostly fuck the nigga bitches to get them pregnant. We are a kind of service, like blacksmiths used to be in olden times, travelling around from place to place, supplying our services wherever they're needed. I've built up a good reputation with Jeff here, and I'm looking to you to continue that."

The boss relaxed in his seat then, and, looking over my shoulder, I saw he had dozed off after a few minutes.

"Jeff", I whispered, "Tell me this isn't real.... You don't have to fuck like that every day, do you?"

"No, that was pretty unusual - and a nice change, to have a really good-looking girl like that. It's usually the nigga bitches, as the boss said.... And some of them are young and OK, but a lot of them are almost old enough to be your mother, if they're good breeders. It's not so much fun then - more like a job of work."

"But why...."

Jeff lowered his voice so that he was barely audible, as he clearly didn't want to wake the boss, and beckoned to me to lean close to him in the seat. "As I understand it, from odd scraps of stuff I've overheard when the boss has been on the phone and so on, he was a very successful lawyer, in corporate law, in some big fancy law firm in New York, with a huge apartment in the city and a place in the Hamptons... the works. Then he and his wife divorced.... It's not clear why, and who was at fault.... But the boss seems to be pretty upset about it still. He decided to do her out of any of the settlement the Court ordered by selling the apartment and the house for a pittance, and simply quitting work! So no assets to give her, no income to be shared.... And he decided to do what he'd always wanted to do - just to travel around the country, with no responsibilities, stopping where he wanted..... He needed some income, of course, so he hit on the idea of having a good-looking white slave and selling my services as a stud to pay the bills..... It's all cash, of course, so nothing for his wife to get her claws into, he says."

"...and so now me, too?"

"I guess so. He told me he was on the lookout for another well-built, good-looking white slave, and I guess he found you. But don't worry about it - you like women, don't you? So once you get over your silly inhibitions, it's pretty much a fun job... As much sex as you want.... Well, more than you want, most days.... No responsibilities, no worries, good food, seeing new places...."

"But Jeff, we're fucking... Breeding... Leaving kids around everywhere!"

"So? Isn't that what men are designed to do, Steve?"

In some kind of weird, twisted logic, I suppose he was right. But I was worried about the next day, and asked Jeff more, until he gave me a quick glance, with one of those smiles of his playing on his face, and he said calmly "Look, buddy, don't worry about it - I've been to the place we're going to tomorrow before, and we're pretty much left to ourselves: just us, and the bitches. I'll show you the ropes, get you broken in.... By tomorrow night you'll wonder why you were ever worried about doing perfectly natural things in public."

End Of Part Two