Date: Mon, 26 Jan 2009 22:00:51 -0800 (PST)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: It's Not Equal At All, Part Three

IT'S NOT EQUAL AT ALL!

By Pete Brown petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

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

Part Three

Walter led me into the Club via the rear entrance, and we climbed up the
"service" stairs to the top floor, where the slave dorms were in the
attics, he said.  At the top of the stairs there was a sign saying "Male
Slaves Only" pointing to the left, and another "Female Slaves Only"
pointing to the right.

Walter turned left, and I stopped him.  "Hey - shouldn't we be going to the
female slaves, if we're going to bunk with them?"  I was trying to be
humorous, as it didn't occur to me that he might have been serious that we
would fuck the slaves, but Walter took me seriously!

"Are you mad?  Or just stupid, like all whiteys are supposed to be?
Suppose we fucked one of the females, and she got pregnant?  My dad would
kill me if they discovered there was a 'breed pup here."

"A 'breed?"

"Oh, you probably wouldn't know, being a whitey.  'Breed is a half-breed:
the bastard of a nigger like me and a whitey.  I don't suppose they mind if
you father one, as it would be a whitey anyway."

"So is there a lot of fucking of the females?"

"No!  The guests won't touch them, because of the possibility of 'breeeds.
And if any of the bitches is found to be pregnant, they test the DNA - and
the male slave who did the deed is castrated.  So that makes the males very
careful - they won't go near the females, except to get a BJ."

"But they could use a condom...."

"Are you kidding?  Get real, Steve!  Where do you think a slave is going to
get the money for condoms from?  And, anyway, who wants to put a glove on
his dick when he's fucking?  It's easier for the males to fuck each other,
as there's no risk of that."

"I don't see why there's so much fuss about the bitches getting
pregnant...."

"You clearly don't own slaves!  Well, of course you don't, I suppose.  But
think about it: the Club pays a ton of money for young, good-looking
bitches, as the members want something easy on the eye to serve them in the
restaurant and bars.  So the last thing it wants is for them to get
pregnant - they couldn't work properly, they look unsightly, and their
value plummets.  And then there's the problem of the pups - that's another
word you probably don't know: the slave babies.  An owner like the Club
doesn't want all that noise and mess around the place, and before the City
will take them and rear them in an orphanage, it demands a hefty fee.  Not
that it happens very much - what's the point of rearing a kid in an
orphanage for sixteen years, so that he can go out on the street, start
committing crimes, and then get enslaved?  So if any of the bitches do get
pregnant, they're generally aborted.  Anyway, Steve, you and I aren't going
to get messed up
 in any possible difficulty like that - we'll go into the male dorm, and
you can pick whichever one you want to fuck, with no risk at all."

"Hell no!  Do you think I'm a fag?"

"What's being a fag got to do with it?  It's not as if we're going to do
anything with each other - that would be fag behaviour, for free men to
fuck together.  But I've had my eye on a cute new waiter who's got a really
nice ass, and I'm going to fuck it to help me get to sleep - that's not
being a fag, as it's only a slave ass I'm fucking, and that doesn't count."

"No, Walter, I don't like this....."

"Steve, it's cold outside.  So stop being such a scardey cat - they're all
reasonable men, even though they are whiteys, as the Club doesn't buy
anyone who's got any violent tendencies, and only had those with good
bodies.  Even though you look a bit like a slave, you're with me, and when
I tell them you're a free man too, they'll obey you just as if you were a
nigger.  So there's nothing to worry about - just pick the slave you want
to fuck, and the rest is easy."

I didn't get a chance to say any more, as he marched off down the corridor.
I hesitated, not knowing what to do - I wasn't sure I ought to wander
around the Club at that time in the morning, and even if I did find my way
out, there was still the problem of the bus.  So, rather reluctantly, I
followed him.

The male slave dorm for the waiters, bartenders and other male "indoor"
slaves slept about twenty, I suppose, and as Walter went in he snapped on
the lights and shouted "OK, you fuckers, by your beds!  NOW!"

The slaves, many of whom were in deep sleep, took a few seconds to realise
what was going on, and I could see some of them rubbing their eyes and
others trying to bury their heads under their pillows, until Walter
screamed at them again.  Slowly, they all emerged from under their sheets
and shuffled around to stand at the end of their beds.  Most of them wore
loose boxers to sleep in, I couldn't help but notice, although there were
some totally naked guys.  And I could tell that a good few of them were
sporting erections, too!

"Now, Steve", Walter turned to me and said, as if it was a perfectly
natural thing to do: "Just walk down the line until you see an ass you
fancy, then they can all get back to sleep - all except the ones we've
picked, eh? "  he gave me one of those knowing kind of winks as he said
this.

"No, honestly, I don't want to.... If there's an empty bed, I'll take
that....."

There wasn't, of course, and as the slaves watched, Walter and I had one of
those quiet conversations, holding our heads close, when he tried to
persuade me to get stuck in to one of them, and I repeated that I was no
fag and was not going to sleep with another guy.  And, of course, Walter
went through the same arguments again, that these were slaves, not "guys",
and so it was OK.  But there was no way I was going to be persuaded into
this, and finally, he just shrugged.  Walking up to a big muscular slave,
he snapped "Find somewhere else to sleep.  Master Steve is going to use
your bed."  And then to me "There you are then, there's your pit for
tonight....", and walked off down the room a little to where there was a
really good-looking guy waiting - as Walter approached, the slave put out
his arm to go around Walter's shoulder, so I guessed they'd done this
before.

The lights went out, and in the gloom I wondered what exactly to do - I
mean, I could hardly sleep in my uniform, could I?  So, very conscious of
the sounds of the other men around me, and thinking they were probably
watching me, I only took off my shirt and slacks and left my boxers on.  I
slipped under the sheets on the empty bed, and it was so strange - have you
ever got into another bed that was until a few moments before occupied by
another man?  It's curiously warm, and as I lay there that amazing "man
scent" assailed me - so very masculine, that odd mixture of sweat and,
and... well, kind of "maleness".  It was all so strange, so exotic, that I
felt my dick pressing hard against my boxers, and I fiddled around a bit so
that it could poke out of the fly.

I couldn't get to sleep, though - it was all so different.  I'd never slept
in a room with other men before, and was completely unprepared for the
rustling, shuffling and creaking sounds from the other beds, or for the
sounds of deep breathing, snoring and farting as they all settled down
again to sleep.  I awake, listening, my dick straining so hard that it
almost hurt.

After about five minutes though another set of sounds came to me - that
unmistakable sound of a hand beating off a cock - the guy in the next bed
to me was jerking himself off, and as I lessened I heard his breathing get
more and more ragged as the speed of his hand increased, until there was a
big sigh, and silence, after which he turned over.  I thought it was
disgusting, to do that kind of thing with other guys around you, but then I
thought on and wondered where else he would do it - I suppose the slaves
lived a very communal kind of life without any real privacy, and so it
probably seemed natural to them after a time.

I still couldn't get to sleep, though, and was lying there drowsily until I
was startled and wondered what the fuck was happening - I snapped awake,
and realised that the big slave whose bed I was in was climbing back!  I
went to shout out, but his hand went over my mouth and in the same movement
his other arm wrapped around my body, and his legs kind of tangled with
mine, so I couldn't move.

"Easy, sir", he whispered.  Is breath was hot on my ear, as he pressed his
mouth close to me. "It's OK, just relax.  I'll take my hand away if you
promise not to shout, OK?  We don't want to disturb the others."

I kind of nodded, and the hand came away from my face.  "What the
fuck....?", I began to whisper.  I suppose I should have screamed and
hollered, but I was caught up in the moment, and didn't think of it And,
anyway, I was so embarrassed as it might seem as if I was somehow
responsible.

"It's OK, sir... Just relax!  Master Walter warned me that you were
inexperienced, sir, when he saw me in the gym earlier today.  But there's
nothing to be afraid of, sir, I'm not going to hurt you...."

"Get the fuck out of this bed...."

"Sir, master Walter said that I was to sleep with you, sir ...."

"I don't care what he said.  I don't sleep with men....."

"But, sir, master Walter told me to, and I have to obey him, as he's a free
man...."

"I'm a free man, too!  So obey me, and get out!"

The slave seemed to tense, and his whispering got somehow more urgent.
"Sir, yes, I'm sorry, sir, I forgot - seeing a whitey in here, I forgot
that not all whiteys are slaves."

"....so fucking obey me, then."

He tensed again, and I could feel his hard muscles move as the rubbed
against me in the narrow bed.  "Sir, please, help me out on this one... I
know you're a free man, and I ought to do as you say.  But master Walter
said that I was to get in with you, and show you a good time.... If I don't
obey him, I'll be punished."

"So won't you be punished if you don't obey me?  I could report you to the
management here.  I could explain that I countermanded master Walter's
order, and that you didn't do as I said.  They'd punish you for disobeying
me, not for disobeying him."

"Yes, sir, but then master Walter would take it out on me some other way!
His family are family members, sir, and master Walter comes down most days
to use the gym, and I'm one of the personal trainers there.  He'd find all
sorts of ways to say that I wasn't doing my job properly - a master only
has to say a slave isn't performing, you know, and that's enough."

"Oh come on!  They'd listen to you...."

"Sir, please... No-one listens to a slave, sir.  They say it's not
'conducive to good discipline'.  So if a master says a slave has not been
performing well and needs punishing, they don't argue or anything, they
just punish him.  It's not like a court of law, sir, where everyone gets to
have a say.  Slaves' views, slaves' opinions, don't count at all and,
indeed, to argue with a master is in itself something that's not allowed.
So either you get punished unjustly, or, if you do argue, you get punished
twice - for arguing.  I can't win, sir, I'll get my ass striped by the
punishment cane, sir - and unless you've ever had one of those slicing into
your ass, you can't imagine how much it hurts.  So help me out, please,
sir... Let me stay, so master Walter won't be upset."

The slave was a big guy - tall and muscular, and everything about him made
me think he must be in his mid thirties.  It sounded so pathetic to have a
virile guy like this in the prime of his manhood having to beg and plead
with me.  But what was I supposed to do?  He sounded as if he was really
worried: could a caning really be that bad?  But why else would someone
like that be begging a sixteen year old like me?  I wished I knew more
about it, but, I suppose, deep down I think I knew from my own experience
as a free whitey that the niggers had it rigged so that it was hard for us
to get justice - how much harder must it be for a slave?.  So, grudgingly,
I whispered back "Well, OK.... But I'm not a fag, so get out and find some
shorts or something to wear...."

"I can't do that, sir.  I put my dirty jock and stuff into the laundry
chute, and I can't get fresh ones until tomorrow."

As he whispered this, he pushed himself closer to me, if that was possible,
and his arm came across my body as we lay spooned there, and the flat of
his hand rested on my belly.

He whispered again, having to raise his head a bit to get close to my ear.
"You've got a good body, sir.  Believe me, I know!  How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"Not a lot of men are as well developed as you at that age, sir.  I guess
you work out a lot?"

"Yes."  I wished he would shut up.  It was going to be difficult to get to
sleep anyway, and the more he talked, the more difficult it was getting.  I
was uncomfortably aware that my dick was rock hard for some reason, poking
out of my boxers.  To my horror, I then felt his hand slide down my belly,
and there was that unmistakable feeling of the waistband of my boxers being
stretched to accommodate it."

"Nice....", he whispered, his breath very warm now.  "A nice treasure
trail... So many young guys like you shave themselves, sir...."

I put my hand on his to try to stop him, and somehow it felt so sexy - I
mean, up until now I'd just lay there and it had been him doing all the
running.  But the moment I touched him deliberately and tried to take some
action myself, it was as if I was now starting to play an active part in
what was going on.  His hand, sandwiched between mine and my lower belly,
was hot and slightly clammy, as I suppose he was sweating.

It did me no good, though - he was so much stronger than me, and even
though I could feel all my arm muscles flexing as I tried to stop him, it
was useless - his fingers started to tangle in my pubes, gently probing and
sort of running them through his fingers.  In spite of myself, deeply
ashamed of what was happening, my dick got harder and stiffer, if such a
thing was possible: it was positively painful.

"Stop it...."

"Shhh, sir... You'll wake the other guys, sir.  And perhaps even master
Walter, and then I'll be punished..."  It was as if his mouth was actually
touching my ear as he murmured this, and I swear I felt his lips brush
against my hair.  So what the fuck was I supposed to do?  I tried to move
away from him, but with the narrowness of the bed, and with his arm across
my ribs, there was nowhere to go.  And even though I did manage to open up
a tiny gap between us, he moved forward again so we were still in contact
all along our bodies.  To my horror, I could feel his dick pushing into the
back of my boxers, too, as if it was trying to get up my ass. And it was
all useless anyway, as his fingers were now wrapped around my dick.

He stroked me gently, almost experimentally, sliding my 'skin on and off my
head.  He was making little murmuring noises as if he was really enjoying
it, and then I almost shot out of the bed in surprise as he pushed the tip
of his tongue into my ear!  I've done this to girls, and I know it sends
some of them wild to have a hot, wet tongue probing and teasing their ear
hole, and the slave, probably sensing that it was turning me on too, did
the next thing: his teeth caught my earlobe, and he nipped gently.

"No...", I whispered, even more urgently now.

His fingers moved off my dick and started to fondle my balls.  "Shhh....
It's OK.... Don't worry, I've done this lots of times..."  His tongue and
lips stopped their arousal of my ear for a moment, but then started up
again.

I couldn't help it - the stimulus of his hands, and his tongue, were all
too much.  My body almost arched, pushing my ass back against the stiffness
of his dick, and, as if by reflex, I kind of "snuggled" against him.  But
then it all stopped!  I was so surprised, shocked, even, as his hand left
me, then his body pulled away from mine.  And then another feeling swept
through me - and to my surprise (or was it horror, or anger?), I realised I
missed the feeling of him pressed against me, missed that delight of his
hand gripping my dick.

You know how it is when you're in bed, tired out, and your brain knows it
ought to have shut down hours ago.  Nothing quite seems right, and it takes
a long time to react, and to work out what's happening.  From the way there
was a cold draft along my back, I knew that he must have lifted the sheet
and slipped out of the bed.  But for the life of me I couldn't work out
why.  Until I almost shouted out with shock, as there was a fumbling at the
sheet at the front, and my dick was assaulted and thrilled as his lips
closed around it!

Look, I've had BJs before.  You can always persuade a bitch to do that for
you, even if she won't go all the way and let you fuck her properly.  I'd
had lots, and was pretty expert at making sure I always had some
satisfaction from any bitch I dated - the ones who kept saying "No, Steve,
no...." were just putting on an act, I knew: why would they go on a date
with a hot jock like me if they weren't prepared to give me what I needed?
So I consider myself something of a connoisseur at what really makes for a
good BJ - it's not about taking all the dick down, but the way they use the
lips and tongue to swirl around the head, probe the piss slit, lick around
inside my 'skin before it retracts.... All that sort of stuff.

The slave, though, was in a different league!  From the moment his mouth
went around my dick, I knew it was useless to protest further.  And I
didn't even protest when he stopped for a moment, reached in to the bed and
pulled my boxers down - right down, managing to manoeuvre them over my
feet, before getting back to work again.  I wanted to cry out with the
sheer exquisite pleasure of it, but was terrified now of making any noise
at all as it might wake the other slaves and they'd see what was going on.
All I could do was make little moans and whimpers, quite unable to prevent
myself, as his lips and tongue worked away.

I began to thrust my body to and fro, as if I was trying to fuck his mouth,
and at one level I was horrified that I could be so enjoying another guy,
whilst at that deep, animal level that controls sex deep down in your
brain, I was revelling in it.  His hand reached out over my hips, and his
hot, wet palm pressed my ass, as if he was trying to pull me forwards into
him.  But it was to stop me pulling away, as I almost panicked as his other
hand slipped between my thighs as I lay there, and his finer started to
probe at my ass hole!  I think he recognised that I didn't like that as I
tensed desperately to try to stop him, and he mercifully pulled his finger
out.... But then he started to stroke that bit between my hole and the back
of my balls, and I just couldn't help it: I thrust forward, deeper into his
mouth, as it was just so totally and utterly sexy.

Confusion began to rage in my brain as I knew I was really close to
shooting.  All the bitches hated it if I did shoot in their mouths as they
said they hated the taste of cum (well, it's not that bad, is it?  Like all
men I'd tried my own when I first started to be mature, and once you've got
over the smell, it's pretty innocuous, isn't it?) .  But what was I to do
with this guy?  If I shot in his mouth he'd probably be really pissed off
and might hit me or something.  I tried to pull back as my balls started to
contract, ready to fire, but his hand on my ass stopped me.  I almost cried
out, and had to stifle it as I was so terrified of waking the others.  And
then it was too late - there was that unmistakable feel of my cum starting
to shoot, and I couldn't help it: he didn't stop, and carried on teasing my
dick, as if he was trying to suck the last drops of cum out of me.  I've
got a really sensitive dick once I've cum, and always have to stop
 jerking off after the climax so that the last few spurts sort of dribble
out.  But as he worked away, there was that incredible mixture of utter
pleasure mixed with pain - the sort of pain you want to feel, somehow - and
I gasped with sheer unadulterated delight, and called out
"Jesus.... Fuck.....Yes...."

His hand snaked up and clamped over my mouth.  I could smell my sweat and
cum on his fingers right under my nose.  "Shhhh...."  His whisper had an
urgency to it.  "The guys here need their sleep.  You'll wake them...."

Saying that had of course stopped him licking and sucking at me, so I was
able to lie there relatively equably now, feeling my raging heart start to
slow down.  I knew I was covered in sweat, though, as the air felt cold
against my body where the sheet was not covering it.

He climbed back into bed, but instead of spooning up against the back of me
as he had been before, he was now facing me.  One arm went around me again,
and he pulled me close.  His own dick was rock hard, and it was flattened
between our bodies.  We had to move and wriggle to get comfortable - I
wasn't used to sleeping with another guy, remember?  And not really used to
sleeping with a bitch, either, as it was mostly a quick fumble and fuck
somewhere.  So my body didn't instinctively know how to wrap itself around
his, and we wriggled and squirmed for a bit.  He didn't seem to like his
dick trapped between us, and a few seconds later I was gasping with
excitement again as he first pushed it down, then underneath my dick so
that it slid between my thighs - I could feel it so hot against my balls,
as it lay along that oh-so-sensitive area towards my ass.

"Shall I fuck you now?"  His question, so totally unexpected, made me try
to jerk away from him.  But one of his massive arms was against my bare
back, and I couldn't."

"NO!".  I managed to not actually shout it out, but something in the way I
sounded evidently did manage to get to him.

His head came forward, over mine, and his lips were again nuzzling my ear.
"OK, don't panic!  It's just that I never know whether one of the men in
the gym wants to be fucked after he's been blown."

I couldn't believe this.  I mean it's one thing to have another guy blow
you, I suppose, well, marginally so, anyway.  But to have a guy fuck you?
And wouldn't all the men in the gym be niggers, masters?  Why would they
want to be fucked?  As Walter had said, they might not think it was gay to
fuck a slave, and they'd be in charge of what the slave did, wouldn't they?
I'd eventually get to learn that the vast majority of men actually like to
feel a hard, hot dick inside them, but that was some way in the future.

So we just lay there, and, almost in spite of myself, I drifted off into
sleep - although I sort of remember having the most amazing sexy
dreams. And when I started to wake up, very early, as I usually do, it took
me quite a long time to realise that it wasn't a dream - that the
incredible sensation of hot skin against mine was actually real.  And that
my dick, rampantly erect again, was pressed hard up against
something.... another body!  My eyes flicked open, and I saw the slave
already awake, looking at me.  He had deep brown eyes, I remember, and
there was a faint smile on his lips.  He seemed totally at ease with the
world, unlike me.

"You want me to blow you again?"

Actually, I did.  But I thought that some of the others would be waking,
too, and I didn't want them to see me like that.  So I shook my head,
slowly.

His smile broadened.  "Well, we need to do something about that dick of
yours - it's trying to drill a hole in my belly."  He shifted a little, and
his dick, still between my thighs, sent shivers of sensation through me,
"....and you didn't want me to fuck you last night, so I need something
too...."

As he said this, he pulled away from me a little and extricated his dick
from where it had been nestling.  Then, slowly and deliberately, all the
time keeping his eyes locked onto mine, his hand reached down and pulled
our dicks together so they were lying side by side.  I reckon mine was just
a tad longer than his, as I could feel my dick head pressing into the skin
near the root of his cock, whereas his wasn't quite touching me.  His
fingers closed around them both, and he began slowly, very slowly, to jerk
us off together.

I suppose some of you do this really often with your special buddies, but
for me that wonderful feeling of having a dick pressed close to mine, and
both of them straining and throbbing as they get jerked off, was a first.
And the slave knew what he was doing, too - he'd stop quite often to bring
his hand up so he could drool a huge gob if his spit onto it, before
starting over again with this lubrication adding to the sensation.  I ought
to have been disgusted, I know, to have some other guy's spit all over me,
but somehow it seemed to be the right thing to do.

My 'skin was right back, and my head was being whipped into a frenzy of
sensation by his pubic hair scraping over it, and I knew I was close to
cumming again.  So once more the panic started - I'd be bound to shoot all
over him!

I needn't have worried, though, as we shot our loads almost simultaneously.
I was so intent on my own climax that I didn't notice at first his cum
trickling down my belly.  It was only when he pulled me close to him and
this action caused the smell of our cum to waft up from under the sheets,
mixing with the stink of our sweat, that I realised what must have
happened.  He didn't seem worried by it though, and in fact sort of rubbed
his body up and down against mine a bit, so as it to spread it out.  I was
in some sort of other place - I knew I wasn't supposed to like this, but
somehow, with his big body kind of enfolding mine, and with the way my body
was so totally relaxed after sex, it didn't seem to matter.  I think I
could have stayed there for hours, but he began to gently push me away.

"Sorry, sir, but I've got to get up.  I'm on 'earlies' this week, as
theoretically the Club opens at seven and I have to be on duty in case
someone comes by.  It's not likely, being as it's a Sunday and folk sleep
in, but you never know: a member who couldn't use the machines or anything
would be sure to complain, and I'd be punished.  So I'd best get
moving... You can stay, though, sir, it's no problem.  Except I'll warn you
that most of the other guys get moving around seven themselves, and the
showers and crappers get pretty crowed.  If you are staying, get one of the
waiters to go down and bring you a coffee, and the papers, if you like to
read them.  Or...", and here he smiled, "...get him to get in with you and
have a bit more fun.  Master Walter has worked his way through a lot of the
waiters, and if you need a recommendation, you could always ask him which
one...."

The causal way he talked about this really surprised me.  I mean, it
sounded almost as if it was normal for guys to be in bed together.  I knew
I didn't want that, and then another thought struck me - I needed to catch
the eight o'clock bus, and if, as he said, the showers got crowded.... Oh,
fuck me: there'd be all that cum in my pubes, and the other guys would see
it.

I threw the sheets back, and not caring that I was naked, said quietly "So
where are the showers, then?"  I suppose it was no worse walking along the
dorm naked than actually being in the changing room at school - except, of
course, that most of the guys were a lot older than me; and at school,
there wasn't a big, tough-looking naked guy following me, a guy who half
way along, put his hand on my naked shoulder as if it was the most natural
thing to do!

It was a good job we got there by ourselves, as the moment the hot water
hit me the cum in my pubes went all stringy, as we all know it does, and I
had to stand there for some minutes trying to use my fingers to comb the
threads out from my pubes.  The slave stood there under the hot water,
watching me, but when I had finished came and stood beside me then reached
out and began to soap me up!

"Hey..."

"Sorry, sir!  Did I startle you?  Most of the men in the gym appreciate
being washed, sir!"

"Well I don't!  I don't like...."  I was going to say "I don't like other
guys touching me", but that seemed a bit ridiculous, considering what we'd
done last night.

"It's OK, sir.  Some men don't like slaves touching them, sir."

"No... It's not that... I didn't mean to offend you... It's just that I'm
not used to this stuff...."

"Not used to showering with other men, sir?  With a body like yours I'd
have thought you were a sportsman, in the gym, on the track.... Has school
changed so much since I left?"

I grinned.  "No, but showering with my buddies, it's different..."  I
paused, soaped myself a bit more, and added "And my buddies don't see me
trying to wash the cum off!"

It was the slave's turn to smile now.  "Don't complain, sir!  I used to be
a real stud, with lots of fur, like you, sir."  As he said this, his big
hand stroked through the hair on my chest, sending a shiver of sensation
through me, then lingered in the treasure trail on my belly.  "But of
course being a personal trainer, they insist I'm shaved smooth as the
members like to 'see' my muscles.  And I have to clip my pubes short and
shave my balls, so I don't properly feel like a man.  But the members seem
to like it, and it does make me look bigger, I suppose."

I couldn't help looking down to take a look, and, indeed, he was well hung.
I nodded, not sure that I ought to be having conversations about this sort
of stuff when I was naked in the shower (or at any time, for that matter!).

"Still, sir, it makes life a bit easier, I suppose - it wasn't so difficult
for me to get your cum out, sir!  Mind you, the other thing they did -
taking my 'skin - well, I do envy you that, sir.  It's OK when I'm fucking,
but when I'm jerking off, it just isn't as good."

Well, what do you say about something like that?  I needed to 'skin back to
clean myself properly, but didn't want to do it as we faced each other and
he could see me.  And it seemed rude, somehow, to turn and face the corner
to do it, as I usually did when I was at school with the other guys.  I was
saved from this dilemma, though, as Walter came in, scratching his dick and
balls in that unselfconscious way that some guys seem to manage.

"OK slave! Did you give master Steve a good time"

"Yes, sir!", the slave responded enthusiastically.

"Good.  Now, get your lazy ass out of here, as me and my buddy need to
talk."

End Of Part Three