Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 "THE AFTERMATH" (Or What Follows Next) Chapter 8: "After Sales Service -
The Fourth Slave"

   This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age
of eighteen years.

   Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris) An archive of my stories can be found
at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christope_Stories

   "The characters and ideas contained in this story are the writer's and
shouldn't be used without permission.  Please respect the integrity of this
story and don't do any rewrites, make alterations of add pictures."

   Chapter 8: "After Sales Service - The Fourth Slave"

   PART 1: The Comfort Station

   The slave is in a state of shock and denial.  Having just left Dave
Matheson's, he can't, as yet, comprehend his sudden change of circumstance.
It is hard for him to grasp that he has just been sold and that the
previous life he'd known as a field slave at the Trevorrow farm is now
over. He is acutely aware that he has been cruelly torn away from the only
security and support he'd known in his slavery - the companionship and
comfort of his two fellow slaves, the cousins- who remain locked in their
pen awaiting Saturday's auction.  He knows he will, most likely, never see
them again.  He is heartbroken at this knowledge and, as he trots alongside
his new Master's rickshaw, he feels a deep sadness.  He is besieged by an
over-riding sense of dread at what his new life at the Patroklos Club holds
for him.

   In his misery, he is at first oblivious to the scenes around him.  He
doesn't recognise that he is now a part of the unhappy tableau of slavery
that lies at the core of the city's existence and prosperity.  His eyes are
shut to the almost countless number of slaves employed in a myriad of tasks
for their owners.  And he doesn't comprehend that this very existence of
slavery is the heartbeat that keeps the city alive and slave labour is the
blood flow that keeps it functioning.

   Dazedly, he is aware that he is trotting alongside the matched pair of
ponies as they pull his new master's rickshaw through the congested city
streets, He feels their re-action to Simon's whip as it cuts across their
naked buttocks with the exhortation to.

   "HUP!  HUP!"

   Obediently, they respond by breaking into a faster trot.  The slave is
compelled to keep pace with them.

   The slave feels the warmth of the afternoon sun on his naked body and as
he runs he gulps in the fresh, clean air of the outdoors.  Soon, the
cloying smell of Dave Matheson's slave pens is gone from his nostrils and
it is but a lingering, nasty memory.  He is aware that he is perspiring
profusely and feels the rivulets of sweat trickling down his body as he
breathes in the pleasant, sensuous aroma of the two sweating ponies. 
Again, Simon applies his whip to the ponies and the three slaves find
themselves moving even faster.  It would appear his master is eager to
arrive at his destination.

   Inevitably, the slave's mind begins to awaken to the sensations around
him and he gradually emerges from the gloom of his self-pity.  Whether this
is because of the enforced exercise of running alongside the ponies or the
pleasure of once more being outdoors - or perhaps a combination of both-
the slave doesn't know.  Now he begins to look about him and he is appalled
at what he sees.  Everywhere he looks, he sees slaves.

   Until yesterday, he'd been restricted to his former owner's farm. 
There, he knew only the forlorn existence of a slave; the hard, physical
labour of the fields and firm discipline of the overseers' canes and whips.


   Quite deliberately, he'd been kept in ignorance of life beyond the
boundaries of the Trevorrow property.  There, within the narrow world of
the farm, he'd toiled ceaselessly in his master's interests; indeed, as a
slave, nothing else was required of him other than that he diligently serve
the needs of his owner.  However, he did know that slavery existed outside
the confines of the farm; but he was ignorant of its manifestations.  Now
for the first time, he is seeing it in action.  Between now and the time he
enters into the Patroklos Club he will get many glimpses of what it means
to be a slave in this city.

   He becomes aware of the gangs of naked or near naked slaves toiling
under the direction of their overseers; driven to repair or maintain the
roadways and footpaths and to clean the busy streets.  Yet more slaves are
employed on building and construction sites erecting the grand edifices
that reflect their masters' business interests and wealth.  And he is
appalled to see slaves used for one of the most basic of human needs -
transportation.

   The crowded streets are full of conveyances in many shapes and sizes and
all are drawn by slaves in harness.  Some of these conveyances, much like
his new master's, are merely lightweight, one - person rickshaws powered by
one or perhaps two ponies; others are heavier, larger and more ornate and
are drawn by teams of four to six slaves.

   These wretched, naked slaves, all sweating profusely in the hot
afternoon sun, strain into their harnesses as they transport their owners
from one destination to another.

   And the slave is shocked to see the ostentatious use of a team of six
tall, muscular slaves carrying a heavy litter on their shoulders in which
reclines a grossly overweight man of effeminate and dissolute appearance.

   Moving into one of the city's many squares; Simon pulls back on his
reigns bringing the ponies to a halt before stepping out of the rickshaw.
The tired ponies are glad of any respite - no matter how brief - and now
stand docilely in their harnesses gulping air into their tortured lungs.

   Gradually, as their breathing returns to normal, the quivering in their
aching thighs and leg muscles lessens.  The slave of course isn't as
stressed as the two ponies; after all he had only to run alongside them
without the weight of the rickshaw behind him.  He wonders why they have
stopped and looks to see what it is that his new master is doing.

   He is shocked to see they stand adjacent to one of the city's comfort
stations.

   As he watches he sees his new master engaged in a jovial conversation
with the city official responsible for the operation and maintenance of the
comfort station.  The slave, only too aware that this could be the fate
that awaits him at some future date, is horrified at the sight before him.

   Kneeling on their hands and knees on a raised platform and with their
heads securely fastened into stocks is a row of naked slaves, all aged
between the mid-twenties and early thirties.  Even as he watches, the slave
hears the official order his two slave assistants to remove the recently
used slaves and replace them with `fresh stock' that have been flushed out
and re-lubricated ready for use by the customers.

   Standing nearby - and waiting impatiently - are three boys, in their
late teens, who are mercilessly taunting the unhappy slaves; loudly
boasting of their sexual prowess and warning the slaves of what to
`expect'. Simon and the official smile indulgently at the teenagers'
boisterous behaviour and, obligingly, the official instructs his assistants
to.

   "Hurry up.  Can't you see we have some very eager customers waiting?"

   Then, the slave watches as the three teenagers move slowly down the line
of kneeling slaves choosing which ones to fuck.

   They don't hurry in choosing; rather they take their time and enjoy the
obvious distress of the anxious slaves.  The slaves suffer the indignity of
having their genitals manipulated and their ass-cracks spread wide to
expose their abused anuses.  Mischievously, the young men use their fingers
to tease the sensitive tissue around the puckering holes thus causing the
slaves to buck.  This bucking by the slaves rattles the head-stocks and is
the cause of much laughter and ribald comment from the teenagers.

   Finally, having chosen their slaves, the teenagers, demonstrating the
full vigour of their youth, enthusiastically thrust their rampant cocks
into their respective slaves.

   The slave looks on in fascinated horror.  He watches the vigorous
thrusting of the teenagers' hips as their `ride' their slaves hard.  He
notes the slaves' heads, locked into the stocks, bobbing each time a
teenager drives hard into him.  He hears the panting and soft moaning of
the slaves and as he looks at their faces he sees the bleak despair and
hopelessness reflected in their eyes.

   Although he is overcome with fear for his own future, he can't turn away
from the sight of the three slaves being mercilessly fucked by the
energetic teenagers.  He hears the teenagers' exuberant shouts of pleasure
each time they drive deep into the slaves' bodies.  Even Simon's ponies
have stirred themselves and are watching with obvious interest.  Their
cinched cocks, unlike the slave's, are rock solid hard and sticking out at
right angles from their bellies; his own is hanging limp from shock and
fear.

   The slave wonders why Simon has stopped here.  Is it to give him a
glimpse of his own future?  Could his new master be so cruel?  Does his
master hope that by letting him see that this is his future, then the slave
will want to delay the inevitable and remain in service at the Patroklos
Club for as long as possible?  Will this fear of being consigned to a
comfort station at some future date make him more willing to please and
harder working at the Club?

   Suddenly, the slave realises his fear of the comfort station is greater
than the fear of him working as a pleasure slave.  Already, his mind is
being conditioned to accept his new life at the Patroklos; reflecting on
the hopelessness of his situation he weighs up his options.  Now he
determines to delay being consigned to a comfort station for as long as
possible and to apply himself conscientiously to his new role as a pleasure
slave.

   He is unaware that until recently several of the slaves kneeling on the
bench had worked at the Patroklos Club.  Upon becoming redundant, the city
had exercised its right to buy them and place them in service at the city's
comfort stations.  Simon had learned that some of his former slaves were
working at this particular station and, out of curiosity; he had stopped to
watch them at work.

   The slave's thoughts are rudely interrupted by an exultant shout from
one of the teenagers.  As he ejaculates into his slave, the teenager
continues to shout and triumphantly pumps the air with his clenched fist
and then, finally spent, he collapses and lies on the slave's sweaty back.
As he lies there, he watches as his friends continue to plough the slaves
beneath them.

   Soon, they too are shouting out their ecstasy before they too collapse
onto the backs of their sweating, panting slaves.  Finally, when the three
are sufficiently recovered, they pull out of the slaves and with a series
of contemptuous slaps on the slaves' asses they thank the official for a
`great fuck' and take their leave.

   Quickly, the humiliated slaves are freed from the bench and taken away
by the slave assistants for cleansing.  They are immediately replaced by
three fresh slaves who must now wait, acquiescently, for the inevitable
assaults on their bodies.

   Simon takes his leave of the official and climbing back into his
rickshaw, he loudly slaps the reins on the ponies' shoulders with the
instruction to.

   "WALK ON!"

   Skilfully he guides them through the crowded square before turning into
a less crowded side street.  Here, he applies the whip to the ponies' rumps
with the order to.

   "Trot on!" Effortlessly, they increase their speed.

   The slave, fastened by his leash to the rickshaw must keep pace with
them.  They continue on for another fifteen minutes before arriving in
front of a brick warehouse which bears a sign above its entrance.

   SAMUEL NORTON SLAVE CHANDLERS BRANDING & MINOR OPERATIONS INFIBULATIONS
& OTHER AUGMENTATIONS A SPECIALTY SLAVES KITTED OUT All Work Guaranteed

   >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

   PART 2: The Assessment

   SIMON!  Good Afternoon.  What brings you here so late in the day?"

   The slave's response to this loud welcome to his new Master is to steal
a fleeting glance at the man walking across the enclosed courtyard towards
them with his hand held out in greeting.

   The man has a large, powerful frame and is of an indeterminate age - the
slave estimates this at somewhere in the forty-plus range.  He has a bald,
smooth head that shines with perspiration in the late afternoon sunlight.
His round face is dominated by his piercing dark eyes and thin lips and is
framed by a short black beard.  He wears a sleeveless vest that displays a
powerful chest covered with dense black hair; as do his forearms.  A young,
naked slave walks behind him.

   "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting Simon." The man apologises as he
vigorously shakes Simon's hand.  "Has my yard porter taken good care of
you?" He asks pointing to a trembling slave kneeling in obeisance.  "If
not, just tell me and he'll be punished."

   "Good afternoon, Sam.  There's no need to apologise - after all I did
call in unannounced, and yes, your yard porter attended to me with the
utmost courtesy and efficiency, thank you."

   "It's just as well he did.  He's out of favour at the moment."

   "Why, what has he done to earn your displeasure?" Simon asks.

   "He's been accused by some of my clients of showing disrespect and
disinterest in his dealings with them.  Only yesterday, I had one client
complain bitterly about his surliness.  And he's exhibiting bad temper
towards my other slaves.  As you'd appreciate these are all intolerable
traits for a slave to exhibit.  You can see from his back that I've had to
punish him several times of late."

   "Do you know what's causing his bad behaviour?"

   "No not at all, Simon.  Until lately, he's always been a well behaved
slave and because of his good attitude, I gave him a responsible position
as my yard porter.  Up until now, he's always performed his duties
efficiently and cheerfully.  I don't really know what's gotten into him to
cause him to display such bad behaviour.  But I WON"T put up with it."

   The slave in question trembles as his master discusses his bad behaviour
and he is grateful that Simon's comments have spared him further
punishment. His back already displays the several layers of his previous
punishments.  At the bottom layer are the fading pinkish-red welts of his
first punishment and superimposed on these are the welts from his two
subsequent whippings - ranging in colour blue-black bruises to angry red
stripes.

   The slave is fortunate in that his owner doesn't allow the skin to be
broken during a flogging; nevertheless, the pain he feels is acute and he
is now determined not to annoy his master.  To this end he has resolved to
mend his ways and to be a good slave.

   Suddenly, his feet are kicked apart by his master and he is ordered to.

   "DISPLAY PROPERLY!  Spread your knees.  Get your head to the ground. 
Raise your ass.  NOW!  "

   The chastened slave hastens to comply and now his heavily cinched balls
swing freely between his thighs and his ass is open to scrutiny.

   "See what I mean?" Sam snaps angrily.  I have to watch him the whole
time to ensure he is doing as he is supposed to do.  I don't know what it
is about slaves; you treat them well but they always try to take advantage
of your good nature.  You'd think they would be grateful to have a
considerate master, wouldn't you?"

   "There's nothing worse than a troublesome slave." Simon sympathises. 
"When I do encounter one, I usually cut my losses and sell him on.  But
it's not a problem I have to worry about too often.  Most of my slaves are
happy to delay being sold for as long as possible.  They know that their
next stop could well be at a comfort station.  The fear of that's enough to
keep them sweet tempered." Simon laughingly adds.

   "I've had this particular slave for a number of years now and you're
right; perhaps it's time to send him to the dealers.  I guess his age is
around thirty and I would think his options at auction are limited; most
likely he'll spend his remaining years as a heavy duty, work slave.  Yes, I
think that's what I'll do; I'll send him to next week's auction.  In the
meantime I can keep him in order by using my whip to tickle his back a bit
more."

   The now panic stricken slave shuffles around spreading is legs further
apart and elevating his rump even higher in an attempt to appease his
Master.  He begins to plead plaintively."

   "I'm sorry, Master.  Please forgive me, Master.  Master, I'll behave
Master.  Please don't sell me, Master."

   His pleas are ignored.

   "I'm sorry, Simon." Sam apologises.  "I guess you're not here to talk
about my troublesome slave?" Then, looking at Simon's new slave, he adds.
"Let me guess, you have a new slave in need of processing.  Am I right?"

   "Indeed you are, Sam.  As you can see I've just taken delivery of a new
slave and I'd like you to get him ready for service at the Patroklos Club".

   "He's a prime slave.  How did you come by him?"

   "He only came on the market yesterday.  Dave Matheson was handling his
sale and he usually draws my attention to any slave he thinks I'd be
interested in purchasing for the club.  He told me about this one and once
I'd inspected him I bought him immediately."

   "It would appear you have purchased well, Simon.  He's top quality. 
What do you have in mind for him?"

   "He's to serve at the highest level as a pleasure slave and I need you
to prepare him for his training."

   "So what do you have in mind - the usual?  What you'd like is removal of
his body hair, branding, collaring and ringing?  I know you like to keep it
simple.  Fortunately for the slave, I won't need to skin him."

   "Yes, I think that's all that will need to be done.  As you said - I
like to keep it simple; just like my clients prefer."

   "I wonder Simon, if I could ask for your opinion on a new initiative of
mine.  As you possibly know, I now operate an after-sales booth at Dave
Matheson's auctions and I'm keen to give his clients a proper level of
service.  I think it's important for them to see the standard of service I
can offer.  I've set up a couple of display boards where they can peruse
all the services I offer.  Could I ask you to look at one of my displays
and give me an honest assessment?  In view of your wide experience with
slaves, I'd really appreciate your opinion."

   "Of course Sam, I'm only too happy to oblige.  Let's see your display.
Take me to it."

   "There's no need to Simon." Sam laughs.  "The display is already here."
Then, turning to the slave who had followed him into the yard he barks the
order to.

   "STAND AND DISPLAY!"

   Once the slave is in the display position, Sam adds.  "Here he is Simon.
What do you think?"

   Simon is taken by surprise and runs a practised eye over the young
slave's smooth, naked body and is pleasantly surprised.  Aged about twenty,
the slave is tall, well proportioned, with a pleasant appearance and has
brown hair and eyes.  His body is finely honed, with a clearly defined
musculature and his tight, firm buttocks are delightfully curvaceous and
held high.  Simon believes he would be quite at home at the Patroklos Club;
except for one thing.

   The slave's body is heavily adorned with slave jewellery; Simon thinks
this decoration is overdone.  But he now knows that it is done for a
reason; the slave is in fact one of the walking display boards that Sam
Norton proposes to use to show off his wares to his prospective customers.

   The adornments that this slave wears are made of highly polished, gold
coloured metal that contrasts beautifully with his deeply tanned hide. 
Apart from the heavy neck collar, the slave is also fitted with large
nipple rings, a navel bar, earrings and a snout ring.  He wears amulets
around both biceps and matching bands around his wrists and ankles.

   Prominent on his right pectoral is a large, ornamental, freshly healed
brand and Simon can see it is more recent than the S seared into the
slave's left flank.  However, Simon's gaze is centred on the slave's
genitals.

   The slave is extremely well-endowed with a long, thick cock and heavy
balls that swing between his strong thighs.  The cock and balls are
gathered together in a three ring cinch that forces them into prominent
display- Simon thinks that it makes for an extremely attractive package. 
It is the semi-erect cock, however that intrigues Simon.

   A heavy ring passes through the shaft of the circumcised cock just
behind the knob- useful for leashing the slave - and running parallel down
the underside of the penis is a Jacob's ladder or a series of small, frenum
bars.  Simon frowns at the slave's overall appearance; he believes it is
spoiled by this overuse of body jewellery.

   But, for any owner wishing to decorate his own newly bought slave, the
choice is made easier; he can actually view a slave whose body is already
fitted with the adornments he is considering fitting on his new slave.

   Simon admires Sam Norton's ingenuity in presenting his prospective
clients with such graphic examples of his handiwork.

   "Well, Simon, what do you think?"

   "Sam, I congratulate you." Simon laughs heartily.  "I admire your
advertising skills and I have to admit it's putting the slave to good use.
But tell me - how many display boards do you plan to use?"

   "At the moment I'm only using two.  However, I may expand on this number
if it is warranted.  The other slave is kitted out in silver and has
different fittings to this one.  As it's only a recent new idea of mine, I
haven't had them on display yet.  But I intend to introduce them to the
public at Saturday's auction.  My thought is to have them stand at display
- one on either side of the entrance to my booth.  Hopefully, their
appearance might encourage customers to bring their newly purchased slaves
in for augmentation."

   "Sam, I think it's a wonderful idea and I compliment you on business
acumen.  Having the slaves display your wares should prove to be very
popular with your clientele.  But will the slaves be available for close
hands-on inspections?  Will you allow any interested parties to handle the
slaves and inspect their bodies and your adornments?"

   "I hadn't given any thought to that.  Do you think that's necessary,
Simon?"

   "Yes I do, Sam.  Putting myself into the shoes of one of your clients, I
would want to inspect the quality of the fittings you use - and I know from
experience that you use only the best - and to inspect that the flesh of
the slaves has healed properly after their piercings and other operations.
I should think a potential customer would want to know how their new
purchase will heal after branding or skinning.  Anyway, I assume your other
display board is as appealing as this one.  If you allow access to them,
then both slaves could prove to be powerful enticements in bringing
customers into your booth."

   "Thank you for your suggestion, Simon.  I see the wisdom in what you're
saying and will act on your suggestion.  But that's enough of my concerns.
Let's get back to your new slave.  With your permission I would like to
start my inspection of him?"

   "Go ahead, Sam.  That's why we're here.  He's at your disposal."

   "STAND AND DISPLAY!" Sam barks at the slave.

   Now, with his feet apart, the slave is posed, for the second time today
and ready for inspection.  Standing rigidly erect with his broad shoulders
squared, his chest thrust out and belly sucked in, he bows his head in
submission.

   His muscular chest rises and falls and his powerful stomach muscles
ripple and flex in unison with his laboured breathing.  The slave feels the
throbbing artery at the side of his neck and, as usually happens when under
inspection; his body begins a nervous quivering.  He is aware of the
involuntary clenching an unclenching of his buttocks and he feels his anus
squirming as he considers the possibility of a digital exploration.  He
feels his balls moving within the confines of his tightening scrotum and
his cock, acting in anticipation of its own impending inspection, begins to
gradually inch itself back into life.

   Slowly, Sam walks around the slave pausing to assess the body from each
angle.  The slave feels an occasional hand placed upon his body or a sharp
finger pressed into his firm flesh.  Then, finally, he is aware that Sam is
standing directly in front of him.

   Gently, Sam begins to ruffle the hair on the slave's chest; the slave
quivers at his touch.  Sam smiles at the slave's reaction to this and
continues with his inspection.  Wrapping the slave's chest hair around the
tips of his fingers he begins a gentle tugging.  He is evaluating the
hair's strength subject to its removal; he is, in fact, judging just how
much depilatory solution he'll need to apply to the slave and the duration
it will remain on the body before its work is done.  The hair has a fine,
silky texture and Sam assesses the slave will be easy to strip.  He decides
to use a weaker solution but nevertheless he will leave it on overnight
allowing time for it to take effect.

   First, the slave will be hosed down and scrubbed clean before being
chained, spreadeagled into a purpose built, and upright frame.  This allows
access to all parts of the slave's naked body making it easier to apply the
depilatory solution.  There, he will remain suspended overnight thus
allowing plenty of time for the solution to do its work.

   Unfortunately, the slave will have an uncomfortable night - but that
can't be helped.  He can, at least, be thankful that he requires only a
weak application of the solution; slaves with thick, coarse coverings of
body hair have to endure the pain of the full strength solution.  Sam
always insists these slaves are gagged as he finds their cries of distress
annoying and intrusive.

   Next, he turns his attention to the slave's nipples as he assesses them
for their new rings.  As he stretches and twists them, he is deciding how
deep into the slave's flesh he needs to go.  Sam always prefers to embed
the rings well under the nipples; this allows the slave's user plenty of
purchase for manipulation of the rings.  Sam knows that this slave will be
subjected to much vigorous handling at the Patroklos Club - the last thing
that Simon would want is for his new slave to be damaged by having his
nipple torn by an over-enthusiastic client.

   Still, the slave doesn't present any problems; both of his prominent
nipples are delightful to the touch and, judging by the slave's squirming,
they are also very sensitive.  Sam feels they will prove to be popular with
Simon's clients and will be much fondled.

   Now, using his index finger, Sam follows the slave's treasure trail down
over the undulating abdominal muscles and into the thick, pubic bush -
although recently trimmed - he knows he will need to apply a stronger
solution just here.

   The slave's fully erect cock is standing out at right angles to the
muscled plain of his belly and both balls are now held tightly in his
scrotum.  As Sam strokes the cock, he is rewarded with a dribble of pre-cum
oozing out of the piss-slit.  Obviously the slave is easily excited and Sam
decides this will also work in the slave's favour at the Club.

   As he enjoys the slave's responses to his touch, Sam is also gauging the
genitals for cinching.  Of course, the slave is fully aroused and it isn't
easy to gauge the size of the cinch ring that he'll need to use.  But Sam
has much experience in these matters and knows that the slave, even at
rest, is extremely well-endowed and he will require a larger than usual
cinch ring.

   He knows that Simon likes the cocks of his pleasure slaves to be on
prominent show and for them to wear their testicles suspended well down in
their low hanging ball-sacs.  This slave should present well to the patrons
of the Patroklos Club.

   "Is everything alright?" Simon asks suddenly.  "The slave doesn't
present a problem does he, Sam?"

   "No not at all, Simon.  Why do you ask?"

   "It's just that you haven't made any comments and I thought possibly
you'd found fault with him, Sam."

   "I'm sorry, Simon.  My silence was just a case of me enjoying my work.
The slave is a delight to handle.  I truly envy your patrons once they have
access to him.  No, I was thinking it's a pity to strip him of his body
hair.  I think it's one of his finer features - but then I prefer my slaves
to have a bit of meat on their bones and to have hairy chests."

   "I have to agree with you, Sam.  I think the slave's body is enhanced by
his chest covering and I'm attracted to the way his hair trails down over
his belly to his cock.  But my patrons like my slaves to be smooth bodied
and I have to meet their requirements - otherwise I'd go out of business."

   "Personally I enjoy fucking a hairy slave; but that's just my
preference. I've never been able to work out why some men will only use
smooth bodied slaves.  Perhaps, it's because a hairy slave reminds them of
themselves and, in that, they have feelings of insecurity.  I guess they
think that if a slave has a smooth, hairless body, then he isn't a man and
it's alright to use him.  What they forget is that a slave - hairy or
smooth - isn't a man and it shouldn't make any difference in fucking him.
Well, that's my opinion, anyway."

   "And it's an interesting one too, Sam.  Perhaps you're right?  I know
I've NEVER received a request for a hairy slave at the club.  Obviously, my
patrons like their slaves to have glabrous bodies and of course, I give
them what they want."

   "You're right of course, Simon.  We're both businessmen and we have to
pander to our customers' needs.  Even though my personal preference is for
hairy slaves, a major part of my business is the removal of body hair from
slaves, so I just do it and give the client what he wants.  After all, he
owns the slave and is entitled to do with it whatever he feels is in his
own best interests."

   "That's a very wise attitude, Sam.  And I'm relieved to know there isn't
a problem with my slave."

   Suddenly, Sam orders the slave to.

   "TURN!  BEND AND SPREAD!"

   The slave hastens to comply and with his feet spread wide and his head
at knees height; he reaches behind and dutifully prises his buttocks apart.
Now he is overcome with the humiliation that he always feels when ordered
into this most degrading of positions.  He feels the warm flush of his
embarrassment burning in his face and his body trembles with the shame that
engulfs him.  Guiltily, he knows that soon he'll feel pleasure at the
inevitable examination of the most private parts of his body.  He shivers
as he anticipates the intrusion of a finger into the deep, secret recesses
of his being.  He doesn't have long to wait.

   He quivers at the touch of a finger as it wanders up and down the
crevasse of his ass; pausing to tease his sensitive anus.  His knees
tremble and his legs shake as the finger continues to excite him and he
feels his already erect prick grow even harder.  He looks back between his
legs to those of the man who is standing behind him - the man who is gently
teasing, tormenting and frustrating him.  He sees his own balls swinging
low between his thighs and he feels his cock bobbing up and down in tune
with his rapid breathing.  His churning balls are crying out for release
and he feels the first, tiny precursors of pleasure as his pre-cum oozes
out to moisten the tip of his glans.  Suddenly he cries out as the finger
rudely thrusts into him.

   He wriggles in enjoyable discomfort and he moans with pleasure as the
finger massages his prostate gland.  He whimpers softly as the finger
slowly fucks him.

   He is lost in the enjoyment of the moment and feels the mounting
pressure in his balls as they seek to unload for the second time this
afternoon.  He hasn't been given permission to discharge and it takes all
his previous training to prevent this from happening.  And, as always, he
anticipates the inevitable frustration and disappointment suffered by all
slaves - that of being denied a spontaneous ejaculation.  He simply submits
to these manipulations of his body; after all, as a slave, he has no other
choice.

   "I have to say, Simon, you've got a winner with this one.  He's tight
and very responsive.  I'm sure that he'll prove to be a popular addition to
your stable of pleasure slaves."

   "I hope you're right, Sam.  I'm looking to recoup my investment in him
in the shortest possible time.  Still, averaging it out over five years, he
should pay for himself many times over; and like all my slaves, he'll be
made to work hard."

   The slave gasps as, unexpectedly, his scrotum is pulled down and away
from his body; he feels his balls being worked to the bottom of his sac. 
Almost lovingly, each is rolled between Sam's fingers before being
subjected to a gentle squeeze.

   "The slave has a great pair of knockers".  Sam volunteers.  "They're a
good size and his ball-sac has a silky smooth feel to it."

   "You really do enjoy your work don't you, Sam?" Simon laughs n reply.

   Now, he is aware of a hand reaching in under his belly and the slave
feels a fingertip delicately stroking the underside of his penis with
feather like gentleness.  He responds by moving his hips backwards and
forwards in unison with the finger still thrusting into him.

   Hungrily, his muscles grip the intruding finger in a tight embrace and
try to draw it deeper into him.  He feels the involuntary working of these
muscles as they grip and then relax their hold of Sam's finger.  The slave
is in a delirium of delight and he suffers the exquisite agony of having
the sensitive underside of his cock teased as, at the same time, his hole
is fucked.

   The slave's mind is a tangle of confused and conflicting thoughts.  He
knows that his body is being abused against his will; yet, if he is honest
with himself, he has to admit to enjoying this misuse of him as an object
of pleasure.  His enjoyment is stronger than any sense of shame that he
currently feels.  He considers his future at the Patroklos Club.  He knows
that he will be forced to submit to his new master's patrons and he now
wonders if he'll find those experiences as rewarding as this one.

   He sincerely hopes so and shivers in anticipation.  Perhaps, just
perhaps, his life as a `pleasure slave' will have its rewards?

   Suddenly, Sam withdraws his fingers from the slave's body leaving it in
a state of unfulfilled desire.  His hole feels strangely empty and his
prick twitches with disappointment.

   Now, as his hands roam over the soft, down covered cheeks of the slave's
buttocks, Sam marvels at their warm, silky smoothness.  He slaps the
slave's hands away and prises wide the cleft to examine the hair growth
around the puckering hole.  He notes that some work will be required to
meet the demands of Simon's clients.

   "Fortunately, the slave's ass isn't too hairy.  He just has a light,
fuzzy covering of baby down; quite easy to remove." Sam tells Simon. 
"However, I'll need to work on his crack; there's some longer, coarser
growth in there, I'm afraid.  It's a pity really - I do like a slave who
has `grass growing at the entrance to the burrow'.  Still we have to give
your clients what they want."

   Then as Sam traces the outline of the S brand on the slave's left flank
he adds almost as an after-thought.  "Excellent, the slave takes the
branding iron very well indeed.  His brand is sharp and crisp and the
outline is clearly defined - just as it should be."

   The inspection now finished, Sam slaps the slave on the ass and orders
him to.

   "STAND!  FACE THE FRONT AND DISPLAY!"

   "Simon, I have to say this is one of the best slaves you have had me
work on.  Look, I'll go further and say he is the BEST slave to date.  My
congratulations to you!  When you have him up and running, I'll have to
visit the Patroklos and sample him for myself."

   "Please do visit the club, Sam.  And they'll be no charge; you can use
the slave for free."

   "That's generous of you, Simon.  But look....  I'm sorry....  I wasn't
hinting for a free fuck.  It's just that the slave has a very appealing ass
and my comment was made in jest."

   "I know you weren't, Sam.  Let's say this is my way of thanking you for
looking after the special needs for my slaves."

   "Then I accept your kind offer and thank you, Simon.  Now, when do you
want me to begin work on him?"

   "Whenever, it's convenient for you to do so, Sam.  The sooner the better
as far as I'm concerned.  I'm keen to start his training as soon as
possible."

   "I have several other jobs underway at the moment, but one more won't
make a lot of difference.  If you like, I can make a start on your slave
today?"

   "That's great; Sam and I really appreciate it."

   "Good!  I'll get my slaves to take him away and make a start on him. 
He'll spend the night in a stripping frame and then in the morning we'll
hose him down and clean him up.  Then we'll collar him, fit his rings and
cinch his genitals.  After that, all that needs to be done is to brand him.
I'll need your branding iron, however.  Do you want me to send a `boy' over
to the club to collect it or will you arrange to have it delivered here?"

   "There's no need for either, Sam.  I came prepared and have the brand
with me; it's in a bag under the seat of my rickshaw.  I'll go and get it."

   "Stay where you are, Simon.  My slave will fetch it; after all that's
what he's here for.  Anyway why keep a dog and bark yourself, I always
say."

   Then Sam turns to the still kneeling yard porter and orders.

   "ON YOUR FEET!  Run and fetch Master Jackson's bag from under the seat
of his carriage.  COME ON!  MOVE YOURSELF!"

   The slave, anxious to please his angry Master scrambles to his feet and
hastens to carry out his instructions.

   "RUN!  I SAID MOVE YOUR LAZY ASS AND BE QUICK ABOUT IT!  QUICKLY!" Sam
shouts after the slave.

   The contrite slave hastily retrieves the bag and returns; he passes the
bag to the young display slave as instructed and drops to his knees.  He is
ignored by his Master.

   "Simon, I notice your ponies are restless.  They seem to be doing a lot
of fidgeting."

   "Are they?  I hadn't noticed, Sam.  I suppose they could be thirsty;
come to think of it they haven't had any water since lunchtime.  Or it
could be that they need to relieve themselves.  I've trained them not to
urinate in public."

   "Would you like my slave to give them water, Simon?"

   "Yes please, Sam.  I suppose they do need a drink.  It's a very hot day
and they still have a lot of running to do.  But would you instruct your
slave not to overwater them.  I don't want a lot of water sloshing around
in their bellies as they run - it makes them too sluggish and slows them
down.  In fact, I always run my ponies on empty stomachs.  I only give them
a very light feed in the morning; they have to wait until evening when
they've finished their duties for their main feed.  I've always found that
a pony performs best on an empty belly."

   "Back up on your feet and attend to Master Jackson's ponies." Sam
instructs his porter.  "COME ON!  You heard Master Jackson - don't give his
ponies too much to drink.  Then get a bucket and help them to piss. 
QUICKLY!  MOVE YOURSELF!"

   "Sam, I notice you refer to me as Master Jackson rather than Mr Jackson
when speaking to your slave.  Why is that?" Simon asks as he watches the
porter hurry off to obey his master's orders.

   "Oh!  It's just a matter of courtesy, really, Simon.  I refer to all my
clients as `Master' in the presence of my slaves.  I believe it's important
for a slave to see all free men as either a master or a potential master.
It fixes in their minds that they are worthless slaves and all free men are
their masters.  After all, a slave really does need to know his true worth,
doesn't he?  I never miss an opportunity to impress that upon a slave."

   "That makes sense.  But tell me Sam; when will my slave be ready for
pick-up?"

   "We'll make a start on him immediately and scrub him down ready for hair
stripping - that'll happen overnight.  Then, in the morning we'll hose him
down and then kit him out with his collar, rings and cinch.  That won't
take very long.  Speaking of collars; do you want me to fit him with a new
one or do you have a re-cycled one from the club I can use?  I appreciate a
platinum collar is very expensive and usually you do have a spare collar or
two as you downgrade your slaves from platinum to gold."

   "No I don't have any spares at the club at the moment.  So you'll need
to use a new collar on him.  I have two or three downgrades pending; but
these won't happen for a few more weeks yet.  I suppose you have a platinum
collar in stock, Sam?"

   "Simon, I've always got a few spares, as I know you'll require them at
some time.  But what about his identification number?  Do you know what it
is?"

   "Yes Sam, I do.  I checked before I left the club.  His number is `327'.
That's how'll he'll be known to the club's patrons."

   "Good!  Then I'll have his number engraved on the collar before it's
fixed around his neck.  Now what about his branding?  Naturally it'll be
done last.  Do you want to be present, Simon?"

   "I'm not sure whether I'll have time.  I have several appointments I
must keep in the morning.  It's unlikely I'll be free until lunchtime,
Sam."

   "Look Simon.  If you like, I can hold back on his branding until you
have time to be present.  After all it doesn't take long to apply a brand -
just a few seconds really.  I can have the slave strapped down ready for
when you arrive."

   "Thank you, Sam.  I could be here shortly after midday if that's a
convenient time for you?"

   "Then, I'll make it so, Simon.  I think it's important for a slave to
have his new owner present when he is branded.  He needs to feel his
Master's presence as the brand is seared into his hide.  It helps to fix
into his mind that the brand he now wears identifies him as belonging to
his new Master.  And I think it helps the Master to accept that the slave
is now truly his.  I always feel the Master's presence as a slave is
branded is a bit like witnessing the birth of one's child."

   "That's an interesting comparison, Sam." Simon laughs.  "I'd never
thought of a branding in quite those terms.  I'll bear that in mind
tomorrow as I watch my new slave being branded.  After that I can take him
with me back to the Patroklos Club ready to begin his training in earnest."

   "Simon, you realise it'll take a few days for the slave to heal.  You'll
need to be easy on him for a start.  He is after all a very valuable piece
of property."

   "I know, Sam and I will start him off lightly, don't worry.  For the
first few days he'll be instructed in slave etiquette and good manners.  He
was only a field hand until yesterday and he lacks the basics of good
behaviour I require of my slaves when serving the needs my clients."

   "Well then, Simon.  Thank you for your custom and I'm sure you'll be
pleased with the results when you take delivery of him tomorrow.  I'll
personally make sure he lives up to your expectations - at least in
appearance.  The rest will be up to you and your trainers."

   "I hope for his sake, the slave is a fast learner and doesn't try my
patience.  And thank you, Sam, for your prompt service.  As always, I know
I can count on you."

   The slave, soon to be known as `327' is now led away to begin his
transformation into the newest addition to the stable of `pleasure slaves'
at the Patroklos Club.

   As they shake hands, Simon adds.

   "Oh by the way, Sam.  Good luck at Saturday's auction with your display
boards.  I'm sure they'll prove to be very popular."

   To be continued.............