Date: Mon, 14 Dec 2015 13:34:09 +0000 (UTC)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: Passsing - Part Nine

PASSING

A story by Pete Brown (petebrownuk@yahoo.com)

Part Nine Moving in. Getting started.  Management of free men and slaves.

It was an exciting and exhilarating time for all of us.  I can only sketch
out for you all the things that went on during our first days in the
Williams' apartment.  Cyrus and I kept Ian and Sam at work constantly -
eighteen hours were not uncommon - as we got them to dig out data to
support or disprove our theories of what was happening.  Cyrus never seemed
to be off the phone, with very "oblique" calls to his many associates not
only in the USA but in London, Frankfurt, Tokyo, Beijing.  Ted was like a
kid in seventh heaven when at the end of the first day when he mentioned he
had not got sufficient "puff" (he used some technical term) in his massive
laptop, and a mass of other specialised equipment that would make his life
easier, we simply told him to order whatever he needed.

"But sir", he told me.  "I've been asking for some of this kit for months
in London and they never order it because Financial Controls say it wasn't
in this year's budget and we have to make a business case and...."

"Just get it.  But is there much?"

"Oh yes - if you want me to access other company's stuff, I'll need...."

"Stop!  Don't tell me that.  I don't want to HEAR about any illegal
activity.  Simply order whatever is needed, and don't fuss about the
budget.  I am authorising the expenditure.  And on second thoughts, though,
perhaps you should not order it and have it delivered here - isn't there
some street or other where you could go and buy it, and pay cash, and then
bring it back here in a cab?"

"Yes, sir, but the money.... It's thousands and thousands..."

I tossed him my corporate charge card.  "The secret number's 0000.  Charge
some of the "simple" stuff by all means.  But stop off at a bank, no,
perhaps two or three banks, and draw out cash for the rest."

He looked astonished at all of this as I snapped "Sam, call finance in
London and tell them to tell the card company there will be unusual
expenditure and that it is all to be approved, without question.  ALL.
WITHOUT QUESTION."

Sam nodded and I looked at Ted and simply said "So what are you waiting
for?"

That was about all we needed to do except to unpack - which as I was
travelling light as I knew I could order anything we needed in New York,
was easy to do even without a slave.  I had a huge master suite with
bathroom, of course, but Cyrus's major domo apologised that because there
was remedial work going on some of the other guest bathrooms were out of
action, and I told him it didn't matter at all - the three young men who
were my associates could all share, and even share bedrooms if necessary.

As well as the thrill of the work therefore I did over the next few days
have the occasional pleasure of seeing one or other of the men coming and
going to the bathroom, and it seemed to be some sort of badge of honour
with them to do so with only a towel wrapped around their waists (although
I felt certain that Cyrus's staff would have provided robes if asked -
there was certainly one in my bathroom).  But I wasn`t going to tell them
this as I find the sight of young men wearing only towels, with all the
excitement that suggests as they let them fall, rather erotic.

We soon established a pattern to our work - one room was set aside for Ted
to set up what appeared to be a small mountain of equipment he had
acquired, and then he rarely left it.  We sent him requests for
information, and he responded.  And occasionally he would come up with
stuff of his own - he had got access to all sorts of information he
probably should not have, and could, for example, tell us about unusual
volumes of voice calls to and from sets of phones, and other high-level
things like that which indicated where deals were possibly being set up or
discussed.

Ian was "encouraged" to make contact with his woman, but that had to be
done very, very gently so as not to raise her suspicions.  So he had a
"weekend" in New York, then could not see her again until the next weekend
when he told her he had flown the Atlantic again as he was so desperate to
see her!  With all the analysis work going on he did look suitably tired,
although Sam told me that Ian had said that he was not so tired that he
wasn't able to perform "in the usual way" when they met!  It truly was
astonishing what we managed to learn from Ian's encounters - he never asked
direct questions, of course, but after strenuous sex when they were lying
nuzzling and laughing and chatting, she couldn't help but give away
information about who was meeting who, who she'd seen at dinner in the
hotel she was staying at, and stuff like that.  It turned out he'd
forgotten lots of little details when I subjected him to interrogation
after the first meeting, so for the second one (and a third!) I insisted he
took a voice recorder with him - Ted went out and bought some "secret"
stuff that was ultra sensitive, so it could stay in Ian's pocket and could
still pick up everything when he stripped off.  All of us - except Ian -
enjoyed listening to the playback, although as it went on and on, he seemed
to cheer up as Sam and Ted were clearly impressed with the sounds they were
making.

It was interesting to see that Anastasia seemed to be rather more than an
ornament, as Cyrus did tell her the outline of what was going on, and I
heard her asking him on several occasions if he'd asked the opinion of X or
that Y was the expert on something and had she been asked, and so on.
Cyrus did confide in me that she was very good "socially", and that men had
a habit of talking to her at the numerous social functions they had to
attend and were not always discrete!

About ten days into our work when we were scheduled for another late night,
Anastasia came in and told Cyrus that they absolutely had to go to the
season's big charity ball for all the major powers in finance.  It was
impossible of course for us to break off, but Cyrus thought that she should
go, and she was reluctant.  "It's not a problem as such", she told him.
"But I hate getting out of the limo without an escort.  And the seating
plan on the top table..."

Cyrus suggested that I should go with her, as it would be good for me to
meet some of our peers, but I did not want to break the flow of work and in
any case thought it might draw attention to my presence in the city.  So I
suggested that Ian could perhaps do it "He scrubs up well, I'm told, and we
can get him the right kit...."

That Friday night therefore Cyrus, Sam and I were together, and Ted was in
his work room, as Ian was out escorting Anastasia.  We had a brief break in
our work, and Cyrus said casually "You know, I do envy you.... Being a
slave owner."

"It's not all that much fun.  They can be a bit of a challenge, you know.
I mean, even though there are some skilled people enslaved, I can't really
use them in the business as there's no means of motivating them.  What
would a slave do with bonuses?  And in personal life, it can be hard to
find a slave who's `compatible' - who can work for you properly, anticipate
your needs, do everything with the same care and attention you'd do them
yourself.  I had several failed attempts which caused huge inconvenience -
no clean shirts, my favourite suit not collected from the dry cleaner for
the day of the Annual General Meeting - stockholder's meeting, Cyrus -
secretly drinking my finest wine, not exercising properly so they lost
muscle tone, all those kind of things.  I suppose I was fortunate to
ultimately buy my current slave, Greg, although I do need to keep firm
control as with his background - he was in special forces - and his age -
he's older than me - he can be a bit argumentative. And it took him some
time to understand that it's not him who makes the running sexually.  He
still keeps telling me he's `straight' and likes to think of himself as a
`top' Although like most owners I insist he's totally available whenever I
feel frustration coming on, and that he does whatever I feel like doing."

"So how do you discipline him.... Starvation, whipping, electricity....?"

"Oh Cyrus, think about it!  Starving a slave really isn't very successful
when he's a domestic slave - too much food around all the time.
Electricity - well you can, I suppose.  But it's too technical, too many
things to do - you've got to get the equipment out, all those wires,
clips... And a bit of a danger of overdoing it and killing the
slave... It's not really something you can do spontaneously."

"...and then being convicted?"

"No, actually.  You can't wilfully execute a slave without a court order -
we're not barbarians after all - but a slave dying accidentally, especially
when it's being disciplined... there'll be an investigation, but that's
usually all.  I was really saying it's the lack of spontaneity - if you've
ever had a puppy, you'll know that when it does something wrong you need to
punish it immediately as the dog can't relate its actions to a later
punishment.  A slave's a bit like that - by the time you've got all the
electro stuff ready it's mostly forgotten what it was doing wrong.  I think
electro is mainly for porn films, as I don't know of any owners who
actually use it for everyday discipline."

"So whipping, then... ?"

"Again, it's not very spontaneous. And not a lot of homes have room for a
whipping frame to hold the slave in a good position.  You can send the
slave to a public whipmaster, of course - but then there's the loss of
value in your property, as its hide tends to be damaged. And even if the
damage does not show on the surface, when you run your fingers over the
slave's hide you can feel unpleasant little ridges and so on. "

Cyrus nodded, and I went on "But fortunately with Greg all I need to do is
occasionally remind him of the need to perform perfectly, or else I will
sell him.  He's a sensible fellow, and knows that whilst he might not like
being used by me, it could be far, far worse.  There are some men who go to
the public sex places you know who specifically ask for ex-soldiers or
ex-policemen and so on... To take their revenge!"

"Public sex places?  How sordid London has become since I was last there
all those years ago."

"Not at all, really.  At least now it's out in the open, properly
controlled and licensed.  All clean and hygienic.  All taxed.  No clients
ripped off.  No danger....  I would imagine that the same places exist here
in New York, as the needs of the clients don't change, but they will be
seedy, dangerous....."

Cyrus smiled and could see I was making sense (as I always do, obviously).
I got out my phone then and showed him a picture of Greg, and he gave a low
whistle - it was a shot of Greg in his slave shorts, the tiny slave shorts
that really do show off his belly to good advantage, and I was amused to
see Cyrus take the phone from me and expand the image so he was staring at
Greg's treasure trail, at the wisps of his cropped pubes poking above the
waistband, and the very visible outline of Greg's cock through the thin
fabric.

I took the phone back and flipped the image to show a back view of Greg,
naked this time. And I pointed out my hand mark on Greg's left buttock.  "I
haven`t had to give him a proper spanking as such, but occasionally I slap
his bum - butt - really hard to remind him of what I can do."

"Anyway", I continued as I saw Cyrus was really interested now "Greg isn't
a problem.  He understands me and knows what I expect.  It`s my other
slave, my new slave, Jason, that will be the problem."

"Will be?"

"Yes.  He's an escaped slave, that I recaptured.  And I expect far more
problems.  He won't escape again, obviously, but young slaves - he's twenty
eight - haven't learned that they need to think to the future.  And he's
sharp and clever, so he'll try to outwit me.  And he's another of those men
who have not learned that it's what I want that matters, not what they
want!  Still, I'm having some of that fixed."

"How?"

"He's at a slave place that is fitting a `chip' in him, so if he does run,
we can locate him fairly easily.  It's the same system you can have for
expensive cars.  You have to pay a yearly premium for the service, though.
And I'm having him branded so that if ever he appears in public he'll be
instantly recognisable - a small one on the shoulder, but a big one on his
butt. So no gyms, no chance of sex with a girlfriend or anything like that
where he'd have to be mostly naked."

"But good to look at...."

"Oh yes.  That's what first attracted me to him. He was a free man, I
thought, until I glimpsed his SIN - Slave Identification Number - that got
me started.  And I think the big `S' on his butt will be very, very
exciting.  I'm planning to have him mostly naked around the house."

Cyrus looked at me long and carefully and went on "So I suppose you pity me
then, without slaves?"

"Not at all.  I imagine you're sufficiently well off that you pay the
servants around here enough to attract the best.  So you have excellent
standards of service, no surliness, no inappropriate remarks...."

"Yes.  But no nakedness, either."

"Well I could imagine that you can have that any time you want.  There must
be women...." I hesitated and then went on "...or men... who would come in
and strip off."

"Yes, there are.  But there's the risk.  You'll know that scandal is
absolutely no good in our business.  And a lot of those people who would
hire out their bodies might simply be very astute - once they saw who I
was, or even came here and recognised how wealthy I must be, they could
well try blackmail."

"Oh it's not necessarily like that.  You can get young free men to strip
for you without risk of unpleasantness."

Cyrus looked inquisitively at me.  "Yes, men around our offices, where the
thought of the way you can promote them, open the way to fantastic careers
and stupendous wealth, would outweigh any short term advantage in
blackmailing you.  And you'd have the extra excitement of being able to
look them over first, see how they look clothed. And of knowing that they
were reasonably educated, and clean...."

"No, I find it hard to believe that that would work."

I had to think quickly.  In my business trust and respect is everything.
If Cyrus was expressing disbelief about this, might he start to doubt
anything else I told him?

"Take young Sam here.  A nice young man, I'm sure you'll agree.  And a nice
tight pert little bum - butt - that I used to look at many times in the
office until I decided I wanted to see more of it."  I looked hard at Sam,
who was forming the word "no" silently and went on "So if you like, as
there's no one else around, I could discipline him as he's been a bit
cheeky lately.  He's got a big family that's keen on young Sammy behaving
properly, and they're grateful if a respected employer continues with what
he learned at home.  Aren't they, Sammy?"

I though that was good, switching from "Sam" which was what I always called
him to the diminutive "Sammy" which was what Dave used. And reminding about
his family, as Dave had threatened him with his mother!  Sam looked kind of
appalled, kind of hesitant. So I continued "Come on, Sammy - off with that
shirt and let Mr Williams have a better look at you.  You've got nothing to
be ashamed of, I know.... I've seen you before, remember? And we're all men
here.  You don't want me to have to report back after our trip that you did
not behave all that well, do you?"

To my huge relief I could see my coded threats were working, as Sam slowly
started to unbutton his shirt and pull it out from his trousers.  I think
Cyrus was surprised as his naked torso appeared, as like most Englishmen
Sam did not bother with a T or anything underneath.  I then had Sam pose a
bit, standing there showing off his neat body to us - he goes to the gym,
as I've told you, and at his age there's something particularly delightful
I always think in seeing young muscle being stretched.

Once his shirt was off, I began to feel easier.  Sam now had no real
objection he could possibly put forward as I then told him to kick off his
shoes and drop his trousers.  And there he was, in those appealing little
brief shorts he wore - very sexy the way there were so tight over his ass,
and the short legs emphasised his thighs.  He did a few more poses, and it
was as if he was almost revelling in the power he thought he had over us
two older men as we sat there as if transfixed by the sight.  But I
disabused him of this when I said quietly "OK, Sammy.  The big reveal.  Off
with those shorts.  You've excited us enough with that bulge...."

"No, sir, please...."

"Sammy!  Do as I tell you.  I really don't want to have to tell your uncle
who will tell your mother about how uncooperative you are".

Sam looked uncertain, very uncertain, as if he was thinking of some excuse.
So I went on "Is there a problem, Sammy?  You're not ashamed of your cock
are you?  I've seen it before, remember, and I know you've got nothing to
be ashamed of?  You stripped off for me and Dave, so do it again...  And do
it now, unless you have some good reason for making me even more annoyed
than I am. So get them off."

I turned to Cyrus and added "There are some disadvantages in having free
men of course - Sammy here is playing hard to get, I think. Teasing us.  He
forgets he works for me, wants to be promoted..."

Slowly and reluctantly Sam put his thumbs under the waistband of his shorts
and began to push them down.  He was semi-erect as he had to manoeuvre them
over his cock, and it seemed that as he did so, whether because of the
stimulation or because it was somehow now "free", he went properly hard,
and like all young men tend to, his cock was way above the horizontal!
Realising what was happening he scrabbled to try to cover himself and stood
there in that awkward-looking hunched up position men have to adopt with
their hands cupping themselves.  And it was of course not very successful.

"Sammy, stop being a prude!"  I raised my voice now.  "I've told you we're
all men here, and all men have erections.  Now stop being so fucking stupid
and let Mr Williams see you properly."

Slowly Sam raised his hands, but, somewhat disappointingly, he began to
lose his erection.  Still I could see Cyrus's eyes following every move he
made as he did a few more "poses" and turned around and back as I
instructed him. So we could see his bum and the way his shoulders made the
start of that exciting "V" down to it

"You see, Cyrus, how tricky it can be even with a man like Sam who has
worked with me for some time?  I am somewhat disappointed with him, and if
you were not here I'd be inclined to punish him a little".

Cyrus looked astonished, and I went on "When you have a free man working
for you and acting as if he was a slave, you need to follow through. And I
expect he will feel the same thing, and so expect to be disciplined if he
fails to obey.  And Sam here was very slow to do as I told him a few
moments ago, and so I am inclined to discipline him.  I patted my knees and
said quietly "Come on, Sammy...."

"No!"

"Sammy, over my knee!  NOW.  Any further argument and it will be the worse
for you. And much, much worse when we get back to London, as we assuredly
will.  The money you owe...."

Sam was almost in a daze as he began to do as I had told him.  He came over
to me, knelt beside my legs, then half bent his body forwards so his back
was parallel to the floor.  I gave him a couple of fairly hard slaps on his
bum, not particularly seriously as he was not absolutely in the correct
position for spanking.  But when I stopped and he scrambled to this feet I
saw that he was half erect again now.

"Interesting."  Cyrus now spoke again. "Interesting.  Rather like play.
You're obviously a kind man, as a couple of little taps like that barely
stung, I would think."  Something else was going on here I sensed.  Cyrus
had been hiding something, hiding it very skilfully so far.

"You're right, as ever, Cyrus.  I'm tired - all this work must be getting
at me and he clearly isn't even wincing - yet But perhaps you would like to
try, help me out?  As you say, perhaps it wasn`t really very much for
Sam...."

Cyrus moved his legs and his tone changed completely as he snapped "Here,
boy!  Over my knees.  And be quick about it!"

To my amazement Sam obeyed.  Perhaps he was overawed by Cyrus.  Perhaps he
was still in some sort of "obeying" mode.  He moved swiftly to kneel beside
Cyrus's knees, as he had mine, and bent his back forward.

"No!", Cyrus snapped at him, striking him a casual blow on his ass as he
spoke. "Right over!  Properly.  Head down, hands on the floor! I want your
ass in the air, for proper access."

Sam shuffled forwards, and Cyrus opened his knees slightly so that Sam's
cock could fall between them, then closed them firmly together.  My own
cock was raging now as I imagined how it must feel for Sam to have his cock
held almost as if it was in a vice, experiencing Cyrus's trousers against
his naked skin.  And my cock got even more painfully hard as Cyrus began to
spank him - I could see at once as that Cyrus must have done this before,
as he grasped Sams's neck firmly with one hand, forcing him to keep his
head down, as the other hand relentlessly rained blows down on San's bum.

Sam wriggled and squirmed and began to shout, then scream, and finally sob
loudly and uncontrollably.  I learned a lesson as I watched - whilst
Cyrus's hand on Sam's neck half held him down, Sam could have escaped if he
had tried. So it must be some sort of psychological restraint that was
happening, triggered by being naked across the lap of a much older man and
being held by the neck.

Finally Cyrus stopped, and simply pushed Sam off on to the floor, where he
lay curled up, still sobbing.  His bum was aflame from the power of Cyrus's
hand. It was like one of those old master paintings called something like
"the slave boy at the feet of the emperor".

"You're right!", Cyrus remarked to me. "You can discipline a free man.  But
I still envy you to have the power to do that to a slave, whenever you
want, without having to make special arrangements, without having that
nagging fear that the free man might react unfavourably, either at the
time, or later.  Still, very satisfying nevertheless. "

He kicked at Sam as he lay there - no, that's the wrong word.  He nudged at
him with his shoe, as if Sam's naked body was now something vaguely
distasteful.  "Off to bed, young man.  We have important business to
discuss still tonight."

Sam struggled to his feet, and he was now totally erect.  Pre-cum was
leaking from his cock, and I glanced at Cyrus's trousers and could see a
slime of it there, too, where Sam had been lying.  Sam went to pull on his
shorts, and now Cyrus barked "I told you to go to bed!  Not to dress!  Just
fucking obey. Now take your stuff and get out, unless you`d like to feel
more of my hand!"

Sam obeyed, picking up his clothes and showing us his ass nicely as he did
so, then strode out of the room, still weeping and sniffling.  It's good to
see the male body in action like that, I think.

"Now, down to business", Cyrus said.  "Just you and me - let's discuss
tactics.  And thank you for that - I haven't had so much fun in years.
You've quite revived me, and as you seem to be able to do this in London
with a free man, even when there are slaves around, you've got me thinking
that perhaps I've been a little too conservative here."

"Before we begin....  You were obviously no stranger.... your
technique...."

"Oh yes. In my young days....  It all began at college - university to you
- the frat brothers - I don't think you have that in the UK - could be
quite, shall we say `firm', in maintaining discipline in the frat house.
But as I got on in business it became too risky.... A pity really, as
physically controlling another man is so much more satisfactory than the
sort of indirect control I suppose I have over thousands now because I own
their employers and they owe me their livelihoods."

I nodded, and smiled.  And felt that I had forged another bond with Cyrus
as I doubt that he had shared that with anyone else for years.

The following morning I heard a noise outside my room and opened my door to
catch a glimpse of the men going off to their bathroom - Ian and Sam had
their usual towels wrapped around their waists and the noise was because
Sam was laughing and joshing Ian about the marks all over his back - it
wasn't hard to see the were fingernail scratches, lots of them, and Sam
suddenly pulled Ian's towel off and we could see they went all over his bum
too!  Ian didn't seem at all embarrassed - well, he was very, very well
hung and has a very nice muscular body - and indeed seemed proud as he said
"She's a real tiger in bed, with claws to match. Until I tamed her, that
is!"

"You, tame a woman?  You need someone with real experience, like me, to do
that", Sam countered.  "Us East End men wouldn't put up with any of that
from the start.  We know what we like, and that the woman's there to do
it...  Not to use you like some cat's scratching post...."

I was amused by this as I saw Sam had recovered his usual spirit.  So I
quickly reached out and snatched at Sam's towel, which fell to the
floor. And as he bent down to pick it up Ian and I could both see his
flaming read ass.  I nodded at Ian, who laughed out loud as Sam tried to
cover himself.  "So, Mr so-called expert, what's all this?  A bright red
bum?  I thought you knew how to control a woman.  You don't let them spank
you, like a naughty boy, do you?"

I felt so sorry for Sam who tried to make up some sort of silly explanation
as the two men walked off down the corridor - he was going to have to work
hard to keep is reputation for being a real sex beast, and there was no way
he was going to let on who had worked on him.

Over breakfast though I said to him quietly "I don't need you this morning
and we'll be going back to London soon - you've not been to New York, so
why don't you do some sight-seeing, buy your girlfriend a present...?"

Sam grinned.  "If only!  She's been going on about getting engaged, but I
can't afford it on the wages you pay me, let alone have any money to waste
on presents.  And then there's the money I owe Dave...."

"We'll see about the salary when we get back.  I was thinking of getting
rid of you as my PA and moving you into the real business..... That's what
you've been trying for, isn't it?"

Sam was evidently so delighted by this and nodded enthusiastically.

"A piece of advice, though.  Talk to Ian about how hard the work is.
Especially when the others see you as an outsider.  It's hard enough for
him as he didn't go to the right uni.  And you..."

"Oh don't you bother about me, sir.  I'm used to making my way...."

"Enough!  Don't say I didn't warn you.  But you've done well so far this
trip, especially last night, and perhaps you deserve a bonus.  A bonus
against future performance, too, if you get my meaning..."

"No, please, sir.  Not again.  It fucking hurts...."

"It's meant to....!"

"And it's demeaning, humiliating..."

"Quite so.  Now stop being so stupid!  It's meant to be, when one man shows
his superiority and power over you.  And it's not going to be any easier
next time - if Mr Williams wants to spank you again and I agree to it, he
will.  And perhaps next time we might have an audience, - Ian and Ted - or
maybe even get Ian to help as from what I saw this morning he's got a
pretty muscular body and I bet he's got a lot of power in those arms..."

"No..."

I laughed as I saw he thought I was being serious.  Fun thought it might
be, there was no way Cyrus was going to want an audience for what we might
do to Sam next time.  Or to share in the enjoyment of actually beating
Sam's nice pert ass himself.  "Well we'll not argue about it, but you did
do well, and in expectation of future performance you do deserve a bonus."

I pulled out my credit card, my personal one, the black one (forget all
those silver, gold and platinum things, I had them on my way up.  Now I was
super elite, no limit at all on spending, personal contact at the company,
all that sort of rubbish).  "Here... Go and treat yourself this morning.
On me."

End Of Part Nine