Date: Mon, 24 May 2004 17:53:15 GMT From: Bill Smith Subject: THE GOOD SHIP SERVUS (authoritarian) The freighter SERVUS was unlike any other ship in the world. Converted from a medium sized cargo carrier first launched in the 1970s, it had been carefully converted to its specialized mission: secretly hauling slaves from one international port to another. Consequently, its well ventilated cargo hold now made up of 1800 various sized cages (stacked from one end to the other) along with communal "cleansing stations," "attitude correctional centers," "physique enhancement centers," and a central food and water supply where each cage's feeding trays and water bottles were filled by maintenance slaves. Its decks were edged with six feet privacy screens so, in port stops, prying eyes of port workers couldn't see the naked slaves going about their work assignments nor the slave handlers and overseers with their painful, but motivating whips.. Its loading doors had been expanded to expedite the loading and unloading of the clandestine cargo and each opening had been fitted with "extender aisles" like airports where the goods could be whisked on and off transport trucks without being seen. There were four classes of passengers onboard the Servus: (1) its officers, who were part owners of the slaving operation. They lived in luxurious quarters onboard ship, made fabulous profits from the black market sale of slaves they specialized in, and enjoyed the sexual use of all slaves on board at any time. (2) the crewmen, generally hired hands with no family or other traceable ties. They were carefully selected for discreteness, big well-built physiques, and an appreciation of the male body so they would enjoy their work with naked male slaves all around them. They were very well paid and given very nice large rooms on ship, and could participate in a limited profit-sharing plan over the years.. Their main duties were to supervise the slave handlers, making sure slave discipline was maintained and the cargo was toned, malleable, and presentable for market sales. They were not, however, allowed sexual use of the slaves in that the owners thought this kept them focused on their duties, thwarted seduction of their overseers by the slaves under them who might work sexual usage to their advantage, and made the crewman look forward to port stops where they were encouraged to visit male brothels, rent-a-slave services, or use male hustlers if they were inclined that way, which most of them definitely were. In fact, the owners preferred homosexual crewmen in that they proved, in the long haul, to be much more discrete about their activities, seemed to enjoy their work better, and generally got along better with each other, especially since they were never in competition for slaves' sexual usage under the ship rules. Their primary job was to see that the slave handlers, slaves themselves, did their job with maximum efficiency just short of damaging the slaves' valuable bodies. They were all sworn to total silence on what they did onboard the ship, violation of which usually ended in a quick fatal "accident." Such "accidents," although rare, sent a clear message not lost on any crewman. (3) slave handlers, all slaves themselves, were responsible for the cargo's discipline, maintenance, security, health, sales appeal, and hygiene. They were neither sympathetic to their charge's plight nor in any way lenient just because they were slaves themselves. Indeed, they were often the opposite in that heavy use of the whip made their job easier and any signs of hesitancy to use the whip at almost any opportunity led to the overseers placing them back in the ranks of those regularly beaten by their whips. Slave handlers held a privileged position relative to the slaves under them, and they made sure they retained that privilege. They were only beaten by the overseers who made sure they were extracting everything they could from the slaves, their only "work" consisted of keeping the other slaves in line by whatever means necessary, making sure the slaves in their charge were fed and cleansed regularly, but, like their supervisors, the crewmen, they were not allowed any sexual usage of the slaves under them or even with each other. They were subject to being selected by the officers for usage, but generally they were chronically in need, frequently dripping pre-cum from erect pricks and taking their sexual frustrations out on the slaves under their whips they so wanted to use. Whereas the crewmen could at least use each other, they weren't even allowed this privilege. Although they weren't usually sent off for auction at the next port, this policy could change overnight if the price of slaves reached such a level retaining any slaves on board became poor asset management. Every slave handler understood that and silently prayed that slaves remained relatively cheap as they were under present. market conditions. Their lives, although hard, were at least predictable and this was coveted more than anything when you were a slave. 4) cargo slaves. The bulk of the ship's population was made up of slaves being transported for open auction at the next port or so. These slaves were used to supply almost all of the ship's labor needs while being transported. They were well aware that mutiny was impossible: they were kept shackled at all times and there was a slave handler for every ten slaves and carefully locked up each night in their individual cages, or, as a special reward from time to time, in large pens where sex with their fellow slaves was possible. If an officer had taken a fancy to their bodies, they were also subject to being chosen for usage by one of the officers in the luxurious officer quarters. Such usage was considered good practice for slaves going to market as well as helping slaves understand their bodies were no longer their own so the officers did their best to make sure every slave was fucked numerous times prior to being placed in an upcoming auction. All of the the slaves, handlers or not, were also aware that if they didn't do their work carefully and thoroughly, the ship could sink or have an accident. In either case, the slaves knew they would go down with the ship. Outside of the handlers, the slaves were shackled during the day so they couldn't swim, and locked up each night in the tiny cages, where it was made clear the cages would not be unlocked in case of emergency. And the slaves knew there were no lifeboats or lifejackets for them in case of emergency. No one wanted a bunch of escapees around blabbing an improbable fantasy about being enslaved on a ship devoted to that purpose. Even though no one would believe them, it still wasn't worth the chance someone just might. So it was obvious their owners thought it best they go down with the ship and simply write off their losses. After all, with the huge profits involved in the slave trade, the loss of a mere 1500 slaves or so could be easily made up given a little time. ********* "From those pants stretched to bursting, I can see you boys are ready to get to port," the Captain laughed as he passed by two of his best crew members. Bruce, the first of the pair was a ruggedly handsome corn-fed Midwestern American while Xarife, his partner was a good looking muscular, brown skinned Middle Easterner. Both had worked on the Servus for quite a spell now and knew the Captain well by this time, especially since he was Bruce's uncle although prior to his employment on board the Servus, Bruce had never known much about his father's mysterious brother who seemed to be gone most of the time. Both boys were parentless, like most of the free crew, and Bruce had barely known he even had an uncle until he was offered this job one day when he was practically destitute. "Yes sir, Uncle.. er.. I mean Captain McAfee, we need to find a boy quick once we've docked in St. Petersburg. It's about to the point where some of the other crew working on board aren't safe, I'm afraid. It's been three weeks from the last port and I can't hold out too much longer," the handsome American sailor replied with a broad smile, rubbing his genitals suggestively . The two friends had signed on the slave ship Servus over a year ago and during that time had visited Athens, Alexandria, Tunis, Sicily, Sao Paulo, Surinam, the Cameroons, Sierra Leone, and Mauritania, Kenya, London, San Francisco and New York, but the ship had never had a cargo destined for St. Petersburg, one of the busiest seaports in Russia. For this trip, like so many others the Servus had made for its mysterious owners, they had taken on scores of probably stolen expensive British and German cars, contraband American cigarettes, and the usual shipload of even more contraband slaves: 1253 males of all colors, heights, and backgrounds. All the slaves had in common was the usual found in male slaves these days available for sale in discrete markets: all were between 15 and 35 years of age; all were nicely muscular without an ounce of fat on them; all were "broken" to slavery by now; all wore permanent slave collars; all were naked at all times; all were reasonably well hung, and all had their bodies shaved clean. To a man, they came from circumstances where they wouldn't be missed. Hardly any of them came from a caring family; most came from no family at all. Some came from prisons and detention centers; others were simply stolen off the streets; a few were military deserters; others had been enslaved for years and years and had been resold to the slavers; a few had actually been born into it in that their mother was a slave herself and any product of her womb was the property of her owner, regardless of who had sired the new little slave. The clandestine slave industry had been around long enough now that a whole new generation of slaves were being born here and there. Some of the slaves on board were extremely muscular black Africans; some were strikingly handsome brown Arabs; some were unusually large, yellow-skinned Asians; a few were "cute" brown Polynesians; some were very light blond Scandinavians; some were swarthy black haired Italians; some were fair skinned, light eyed Englishmen; but the largest percentage were big, well built circumcised Americans with a fresh "corn fed" look to them. In addition, some of the slaves, especially the older ones, sported ringed tits, ear rings, banded genitals, and more than a few were fitted with permanent nose rings. Some seemed to be in a state of perpetual erection and dripped pre-cum constantly; others remained flaccid unless directly stimulated. Some looked resigned; some excited; some sullen; some perky. Some were obviously willing to do anything to please, no matter what the request; others looked like they would obey, but it would take a ready whip to make it happen fast and efficiently. All, by this time, were kept hungry enough to make them willing to comply to a master's demands simply with the promise of being eventually fed. And all had learned well to fear bodily pain and did most anything to avoid the lash of a bull whip; the electric shocks, the pinchers on their tits and balls, even the cutting stings of a simple slave whip, that characterized much of their initial slave training. All had long ago given up any modicum of modesty, personal pride, self identity, and any thoughts that their bodies still belonged to them. All understood they were now mere property, no different than cattle or other livestock. They were headed for the huge underground slave markets in St. Petersburg, now a thriving, but secret feature of the new capitalistic economy. Some would find new owners there and would be quickly replaced with a herd of newly purchased Russian slaves that would be later marketed in far off places. Those not sold in St. Peterburg would be re-caged and, along with the new Russian purchases, head for the next big port where slaves could be discretely marketed. Some of the slaves on board the Servus had been placed up for sale at the last five or six ports, but no buyer had been willing to pay the minimum price. This meant they would once again head back to the cages onboard the Servus and once again, at the next port, be quietly moved in enclosed trucks to some undisclosed auction site and there have to display their naked bodies to any and all, enduring the endless fondling, prodding, caressing, pinching, probing and stroking of potential buyers inspecting the stock. Even their experience onboard ship, however, never quite prepared a slave for being repeatedly stroked to full ejaculation so buyers could taste their cum and study the amount; having their balls squeezed to ascertain their ability as a "stud;" being bent over and forcefully entered (either with the inspector's own tool or a readily available huge dildo) to see how "tight" the slave was as well as their attitude toward being fucked; being forced to suck off any one at the auction to evaluate their "oral skills," seeing how the slave "displayed" or "took to being fingered" or "took to the whip" as a test of proper attitude - all of it made for a long and tiring day. Any hint of non-cooperation during the long days led to instant "discipline" - usually a severe whipping that left the slave unconscious with white pain, but just short of causing permanent scarring on their beautiful hides, blemished only by their slave brands and their tattooed slave identification numbers. Consequently, most slaves, no matter what was demanded by the potential purchasers, cooperated fully with a beguiling smile on their face. As they had quickly learned in their early training, anything was better than being beat half to death. After not finding a buyer at port after port, most slaves looked forward to being sold - they wouldn't have to endure yet another series of degrading and often painful "inspections" by strangers who viewed them as nothing but mere commodities. To make sure the hired crew aboard the slaver were totally discrete in where their unusually rich wages came from, the Servus had a policy of employee profit-sharing that involved a 50/50 split between the officers (including some long-term crew) and the ship owners, presumably fabulously wealthy entrepreneurs in America who remained hidden, but who clearly had connections with the world-wide Mafia as well as Arab oil money. This profit-sharing, which amounted to huge funds which dwarfed their salaries, also made the crew directly liable for the ship's activities if ever raided by Interpol, the Human Rights Group, or other anti-slavery forces in the world, thereby assuring they were MOST discrete in describing the ship's activities, purposes, cargo, or customers. In over 18 years of continuous operation, the Servus had never once been raided, inspected, or even questioned even though over 24000 slaves had at one time or another graced the cages in its hold. This was not only due to the sealed lips of its well-paid crew; it was also due to the very high connections maintained by the ship's owners with presidents, prime ministers, international and national security chiefs, and others responsible for enforcing the law. Millions of dollars passed hands regularly, but clandestinely, to make sure appropriate officials turned a blind eye to the Servus and its on-shore auction barns. Relative to the huge profits involved in the trade, the million dollar "bribes" that occurred almost every day were small potatoes to the total operation. Although the crew members aboard the Servus were uncertain how much their share of the profits would be on any given trip, they were certain it would always be substantial and a small fortune compared to any other way of making the "big bucks." Most crew members could easily stash away a good retirement fund over a decade or so of working on the Servus, especially since there was little to spend in on while onboard the ship and room and board, even their uniforms, were furnished by their employers. . "I heard the newly rich Russian capitalists are willing to pay plenty for slaves these days," Xarife started in. "Expecially for slaves that don't look like Russians. We're loaded with plenty of all types of blacks, some interesting browns, quite a few handsome Italians, and loads of Asians. Granted, we also have plenty of American slaves who, unfortunately, look a lot like Russian slaves. But, still, there's plenty to offer at market that the Russians should find appealing, although, if it were me, I wouldn't even bother unloading the American boys at this port. Say they really go for the Asians and the Blacks, as well as those Italians and Polynesians. That means we should get top dollar for them, as well as unload a good 30 to 40% of the herd caged below. "That's a lot of money, my friend. A lot of money. And a small, but substantial part of that will filter down to us. With that, Bruce, we can live quite decently, my friend. What would you like? Fifty thousand shares of Microsoft? A portfolio of high interest Barclay bonds? A garage filled with a Lambrogini and a Rolls? A mansion in Hawaii? A small share of ownership in the Servus itself for a share of all the profits to be made in future years? Or a willing, well-trained lad always at your beck and call and with money left over?" "Xarife," Bruce cautioned, "don't waste your money on some pretty slave boy or fancy cars when we're really not all that wealthy yet.. We should save all we can so we can retire early - say 35 or 40 and then live without worry. That's the time to think about buying a slave or two to have around the house or a fancy car to drive around town - not now when we're at the peak of our earning power." "What a fool you are, Bruce," Xarife countered. "Money invested in banks and such is money waiting to be stolen by those more clever than ourselves. If you invest in a factional ownership of the Servus, for example, it could be sunk in the next storm or seized by pirates and you'll loose everything. That Lambrogini or Rolls could appreciate in value if you buy a classic that you can drive in the interim. But a slaveboy - pick a promising lad who'll keep his looks and health for many a year and you've made a good investment of your money. And, the best part of all, you can enjoy that investment fully until just the right buyer appears and your money is multiplied." "Xarife, you live in a dream world akin to all those reality shows you're always watching with the rest of the crew. You Middle Easterner always live just for the moment, instead of planning for the future. The tragedy is you believe you have to have everything right now. like there won't be any tomorrow. It's clear where your share of the profits is going - straight into the hands of a slave dealer, probably a Russian one at that, fool that you are," and Bruce smiled at his friend. "But I won't raise any objection on one condition, my friend," as Bruce raised an eyebrow. "And what's that, Bruce?" Xarife asked in a jocular tone. "That you let me use him before I rape the first thing that breathes," Bruce burst into laughter. "It'll cost you, my friend," Xarife shot back. "That's what I mean by a good investment," and he winked at his friend. "It'll cost you $75 for each use. Let's see, at the rate you carry on, in a week or so, the slave will have paid for himself, and in two weeks I'll have enough to buy the poor boy a companion," and Xarife burst into laughter at the look on his friend's face. "Are any of our cargo worthy of your purchase?" Bruce tried to turn the conversation around from his swelling prick which would quickly become obvious if he didn't calm down. "Oh, you know how the captain is. Look but don't touch. And Allah himself knows how little we can look when the captain keeps us so busy we can barely eat, let alone examine the merchandise. But there's a blond Slav I could savor given the chance," Xarife said with a smirk. "What about you? Any catch your fancy?" "Did you catch a glimpse of that long-legged Sudanese boy built like the Greek god Adonis?" Bruce excitedly replied. "If the captain would only allow us to use the goods below now and then, the boy would be split in half by now I tell you," and Bruce's excitement was most evident in his tight-fitting uniform by this time. "That's exactly why the captain keeps them carefully locked away from the likes of you and me. Besides, with that shaft of yours, he just might be split in half by now and then what would he bring on the open market?" Xarife laughed. "Blacks in St. Petersburg will be a novelty, I'd wager, and the boy will bring a good price - if he's still in one piece, that is," and he winked again at his fellow sailor. "Strange, though. Here you are white as snow and you lust after a boy with skin as black as night itself. I'm brown as a camel and I want to bed down a blond Slav with skin like alabaster. Does Allah make us truly lust for what is different or are we merely prisoners of our own curiosity?" "You'd never make a psychologist, Xarife," Bruce dismissed his friend's speculations. "Good thing you ended up a crewman on this ship to make a living.. Since my skin and that of the Slav slave you drool over is about the same, I suppose I'm fortunate I haven't been raped by the likes of you on this lonely ship." "The voyage isn't over yet," and Xarife made a move as if he were going to remove his trousers. "A good rape can be arranged at a moment's notice, my friend," he laughed, "especially if the Servus is delayed in reaching St. Petersburg and the loneliness of the voyage makes me lose what little control I currently have." "At dusk, you could pass for a dark-skinned African," Bruce speculated as he began to remove his belt and then broke into laughter. "Perhaps a slave boy is a good investment - especially if your brains are located between your legs where mine seem to be these days." Neither Bruce nor Xarife gave one thought to how they were going to pay for a slave, where they were going to keep the slave once purchased, or what the slave would do other than be available to service their sexual needs. They did know that slaves were quite expensive, that no other crew member owned a slave, and that few if any slaves were used exclusively for sexual purposes. But, in their lust of the moment, all of this seemed irrelevant. I never seemed to occur to them the simplist solution would be to bed each other down. But, somehow, OWNING another person who would be subject to their every command seemed to be their biggest need. ********* Two days later, the coast of St. Petersburg was sighted and by early afternoon the Servus was docked and the slave cargo was released from the locked hold and put to work cleaning the ship, since their naked bodies and collared necks were never visible by anyone on shore due to the high 6' covered railings fitted to all decks of the Servus for just such purposes. During the long voyages between ports, the slaves were first exercised vigorously to make sure they kept their almost perfect physiques, and then given long work assignments daily. They did almost all the work need on the ship: engine maintenance, painting, polishing, cleaning, cooking, etc. The crew onboard were actually overseers and handlers, but never did any of the actual work themselves. But it was often exhausting for the crew nevertheless in that they were expected to keep the slaves under heavy discipline at all times. This meant frequent and heavy whippings, lashings, and canings - all necessary to maintain perfect control over the slaves. Then, each night, they had to oversee the showers, body shavings, enemas, lubing, shackling, and finally insertion of the huge butt plugs all slaves were fitted with each and every night to insure their asses remained properly stretched for an owner's future use. By the time the 14-hour work day was completed by the slaves, their overseers and handlers were often about as tired as the slaves but they could have found the energy to relieve their own sexual needs with the slave's bodies if it had allowed - but, on the Servus, using the slaves for your own pleasure while at sea was forbidden, presumably to keep the slaves fresh and eager for their next public showing. But on a port day, the slaves' work usually consisted of moving supplies around and their bodies strained from the heavy loads. Bruce and Xarife, overseeing the slaves in their hard work with whips in hand, studied the slaves' naked bodies as they paraded past the two in their toil. "The Servus' owners chose well, Bruce," Xarife said professionally. "Most of them will bring top price at auction." "Good for our share of the profits. Bad for your chance of buying the blond Slav," Bruce replied. "Look at the Sudanese boy carrying those 100 pound bags of food supplies up from the hold," Xarife said leeringly. "That black prick and balls would look more at home on a horse. And all those muscles - he looks like a shiny black ox if it weren't for that handsome face of his. If Russians go for the exotic, that boy will sell for more than you and I both will get together from the profit-sharing on this trip. The only way you're going to enjoy that boy is sharing him with some other owner, I'll wager." "On the other hand, maybe these newly rich Russians so eager to own slaves are turned off by his blackness and he's mine for a pittance," Bruce countered. "But," Bruce began to laugh, "I'll still charge you - what was the going rate - $75 per use, wasn't it - and you too can be delving into the pleasures only an African boy can give you. Shall I schedule you for his usage now?" Bruce laughed. Judging from the size of his swollen penis, the Sudanese either seemed to be aware he was being lasciviously discussed by the two crewmen or was simply reacting to weeks of enforced abstinence (or perhaps both). Either way, he was made freshly aware of his nudity by their lustful gazes and gave them an embarrassed smile as he hurried down to the hold for his next load. But not before he tensed his muscles and thrust his large genitals out a little as if such an act would nullify his embarrassment of being kept totally exposed. "If just looking at him gets him that excited," Bruce observed almost drooling at the sight before him, "you can imagine what he'd be like properly simulated. That boy will require little training, it seems, to enjoy his future life with an appreciative owner." "I can't imagine a more appreciative owner than you." Xarife laughed as he rubbed his own swelling penis stretching the fabric of his trousers. By this time, the blond Slav struggled by with a huge load on his shoulders and the two crew members studied his magnificent nude body as he passed while unconsciously licking their lips. The Slav glanced in their direction and, seeing the look of absolute want in their eyes, shivered a bit and felt his prick swell despite every effort on his part. "Look, Bruce," Xarife said excitedly. "The Slav's cut out for the life ahead of him. His organ is responding to merely our looks of interest. Once he's up on the auction block, we can stroke that monster ourselves and I'll wager you'll see why I'm interested in him." Once those two slaves had been evaluated, the two sailors joined the rest of the crew who themselves were evaluating the slave cargo and what they would bring at auction. Each and every slave bringing up the heavy supplies from the hold below (under the omnipresent whip of the numerous overseers surrounding them) was visually examined, rated and classified as to probable market value until the food supplies were all stacked neatly in the ship's kitchens and the slaves drooped from exhaustion, rubbing the soreness out of the numerous whip bites on their backs and rumps. The majority of the slaves were light-haired blue-eyed whites, mainly Midwestern Americans mixed with some Slavs from the Caspian slave markets, but some choice blacks had been gleaned from the slave markets of Africa's northern coasts, who offered slaves shipped up from the Sudan, Mauritania, Chad, the Congo, Mozambique, Namibia, Ghana, and Benin. Malays, Cambodians, Burmese, and Filipinos were also well represented in the holdings along with some Polynesians, Latinos, and Europeans. All the carefully-selected slaves had in common was their youth, their good looks, their magnificent physiques, and their definitive maleness. The captain had been told female slaves had recently glutted the Russian markets (and indeed most world markets) and prices were disastrously low whereas male slaves, especially those exceptionally good-looking and well-equipped, were holding their value exceeding well. Hence, for the past few years, the Servus had carried only all male cargo. As soon as the slave transport trucks arrived (each holding 150 slaves once they were crammed into every available space under the urging of a very heavy whip), they were backed as close as possible to the supply gangplank located low on the ship's portside and a canopy, similar to the extended tubes used in airports to connect airplanes to the terminal, was extended from the beginning of the ship's gangplank to the interior of each large transport as it arrived, so that no one could see the cargo being unloaded from the port itself. Slaves going to market, all routinely butt plugged for the transit to make sure their ass chutes would be "open" when up for inspection and they would be sexually primed from the constant prostate stimulation bouncing around in the trucks, were marched off in their shackles, nude as usual, first to the transport trucks, and then to the carefully hidden slave auction holding pens where they would be fed, thoroughly scrubbed head to toe, body shaved, have their hair nearly trimmed, have their butt plug removed, their rectums douched, and be fitted with a new temporary iron collar with the dealer's seal on it. Any hint of unruliness or even the slightest suggestion of non-cooperation on the part of any slave led to an immediate thorough and memorable beating. These "corrective" beatings were usually with a very broad leather whip which was excruciatingly painful and bruised the inside tissue but didn't tear any exterior hide and all bleeding was internal. Most slaves, following such a beating, were totally compliant afterwards and gave the auctioneer every cooperation during the sale no matter what was asked of the slave in the process of being sold. In this respect, the Russian slavers were no different than slave dealers around the world - it's just that they had a lot of available native stock to sell themselves as well as peddle the imported flesh arriving in truck after truck. St. Petersburg was a bustling city of trade. Goods were for sale everywhere and commodities such as slaves, although hidden from public view, were a hot item in the select underground markets. It seemed like any up and coming Russian businessman or professional craved to own at least one slave of his or her own as the ultimate luxury and male slaves, in the prime of their manhood, offered the elemental satisfaction of owning another human being that was totally under your domination. No one knew how many slaves there were in St. Petersburg now, but it had to be sizable going by sales figures. And it wasn't uncommon anymore, in the discrete circumstances of private estates and exclusive clubs restricted to the super rich to see slaves around (easily identified by their collared necks and bare feet if nothing else although many of the slaves were kept nude at all times), almost always at the private estates and even, anymore, when accompanying their owners at the discrete clubs and friend's estates. Certainly at most private estates, located close to the city, it seemed like slaves outnumbered free Russians many times over but perhaps they were just more visible since they were the ones doing the work. At these country estates, handsome naked male slaves waited on you hand and foot, served your food, did all the dusting and scrubing, cleaned the streets and carried away the refuse; slave overseers busily whipped the naked backs and butts of the many chained construction crews building everywhere; slave porters, often visibly branded with the mark of their owners, and with backs heavily scarred from repeated beatings from their overseers, bent under their heavy loads in the estate warehouses, while every child of the new capitalistic aristocracy seemed to have a slave attendant at his or her side. The very best looking slaves ended up as valets or "personal attendants" or "body slaves" or "pleasure slaves" (the latter three categories a polite name for slaves destined to fulfill their master's and his friend's sexual needs as their primary duty); those with ordinary looks and little physical appeal did the heavy work. Women slaves were generally assigned to one of three groups: cleaning slaves, nanny duties, and bed slaves, although all female slaves were generally kept almost constantly pregnant to assure the extra profits a continuing supply of a new generation of slaves produced. But today, at the vast pens of the St. Petersburg slave dealers, slave attendants were being kept busy whipping, scrubbing, collaring and grooming the thousands of holdings as they were prepared for the upcoming auction. ******** The next morning, Bruce and Xarife, getting free time once the slaves were off-loaded from the Servus, went to the auction center themselves an hour or so after the slaves had been transported. Like all other potential buyers, they were given a chance to view all of the offerings, not just the slaves from their ship, prior to the auction scheduled for noon. The two sailors arrived early to look over every slave they had helped transport and then proceeded into other holding pens as long as time allowed. They barely recognized some of their own unkempt cargo now that they had been bathed, shaved, oiled, and trimmed to perfection. The body shave paired with the heavy oiling particularly dramatically changed the appearance of the more hairy specimens, usually appreciably for the better. At the very least, it make even the most callused look fresh, young, and clean. Like most other slaves, their genitals appeared large and available now that they couldn't hide in a nest of hair while their asses, as well as their muscular chests, benefitted the most from the body oiling - they simply gleamed invitingly with only a fine sheen of oil applied to make them glisten. Bruce found a black in another dealer's stock he found appealing: this one short but very muscular and, shorn of all his hair, including his kinky head hair, he looked extremely sensual with his large black eyes, especially with the exceptionally large well-shaped genitals subtly thrust out for full viewing. Bruce reached down and hefted the slave's balls weighing them in his palm before massaging them vigorously. The slave moaned softly but knew better than to retreat from the inspection, realizing his best asset for a quick sale, and Bruce saw the boy's prick quickly grow until he rivaled a donkey in heat. A few strokes on the shaft and the boy begin to drip and his nipples noticeably swelled double in his arousal. "Xarife, look at this," Bruce said to his partner. Xarife gave the boy a few strokes himself and then told the slave to bend over so he could inspect his ass. The slaveboy promptly complied and, as Xarife inserted his middle finger up the boy's chute, a low moan issued from the boy's throat while he clenched his ass around the finger invading his hole. "The boy's been trained," Xarife announced, withdrawing his finger and inserting it in the boy's mouth for a quick rinse. "And he likes to be prodded," Xarife added, pointing to the boy's prick which was, if anything, even harder. "He's going to make some owner think he's in Paradise," Xarife sighed. "If our cargo sells well today, we could afford such a boy to show us a bit of Paradise." By this time, Xarife had spotted yet another slave offered by a local dealer: a large Russian with a spectacular physique. The young man was well-built with a strikingly handsome face, had excellent muscular definition throughout his body, and was endowed with equipment that would be the envy of any man. His bright blue eyes, blond hair with some brown accents, and dark eyebrows and curly eyelashes gave him an unusual, but very appealing look. "He's just the type of light-skinned slaves black millionaires like so well," Xarife announced as he began running his hands over the smooth torso of the slave with one hand while he began stroking the man's massive prick with the other. "His price will be high - very high - if dealers buying up for black markets are at the auction. Maybe they don't get all the way up to St. Petersburg. If so, this boy could be ours for the taking since local buyers probably won't be too interested in someone looking just like them," Xarife exclaimed as he continued to stroke the Russian to a quick, but complete erection for his examination. "Please buy me, Master," the Russian whispered to Xarife. "I'll do everything to please my new master," he pleaded. "Why am I so honored, slave boy?" Xarife extorted. "Master, you are interested in me whole," the Russian quickly explained. "There are some dealers here today from the oil sheikdoms of the Middle East who came all the way up here to purchase large blond males. They will make me a eunuch before reselling me in their own lands - I'd bring more that way in either the Saudi Arabia, Abu Dhabi, Dubai, or Oman markets, I'm told by those dealers. They were going to cut me a few days ago here at the auction center when I first arrived, but the Russian dealer that owns me decided I would bring more on the auction block if he left it up to my buyer as to whether he preferred a full castration or only have my balls removed," and he began to shiver as tears cascaded down his cheeks. "Master, keep me a whole man and I'll bring you any pleasure you could desire," he whimpered as his crying increased, making sure he kept his voice low enough to not evoke the wrath of his dealer nearby. Xarife laughed as he continued stoking what the Russian feared would be cut off if sold to Arab dealers. "If I can afford you, you just might have an owner that'll keep you whole. Allah knows it's this I find appealing about you," he said as he continued stroking the Russian slave who abruptly erupted in his hand with a copious load of fresh cream. "I'm sorry, Master," the Russian muttered with a look of raw fear. "I couldn't control myself, Master," he pleaded. "Lick that mess off my robe and hands and we'll let it pass if you don't whine around until you draw the slave dealer's attention to your shortcomings," I counseled. The slave immediately slurped down his own warm cum from Xarife's hands, arms, and robe and then proceeded to clean himself the best he could. "Remember to buy me, Master - you won't regret it," he promised. "The Russian boy would make a good slave for you, Xarife," Bruce advised. "And he's just the type you like the best - even the blue eyes you Middle Easterners covet so much." The two passed on to fresh stock in the other pens and spotted a huge brown-skinned man with green eyes, straight black hair, and the most protrusive tits either of them had ever seen mounted on a spectacularly muscular chest. His massive genitals were ringed below the sac which forced them to protrude away from his body and made them look twice as big as they were. In addition, both tits were pierced with large two-inch brass rings which matched the band tightly gripping his genitals. Bruce hefted the huge genitals so conveniently displayed and the slave arched his back slightly to push the flesh firmly into Bruce' hands as if to invite his handling of the slave's sex. Within seconds, the slave was fully erect and his tits, heavily swollen to start with from the inserted rings, took on a whole new proportion unknown to the likes of Bruce with his limited background of only a year or so in the slave business. "The slave's well-trained," the dealer explained as he approached Bruce and Xarife. "As you see for yourself," and he reached over and rubbed the slave's ass cheeks for emphasis. "He's had expensive training at a special school to teach him how to bring unbelievable pleasures to whoever buys him - man or woman. He'll sell high at auction, but he's worth whatever price he brings, rest assured. He's one of the few slaves I will fully guarantee, having tried him out for myself over the past few nights. You boys looking for a pleasure slave, I assume?" "Yes," Bruce answered as he let loose of the obviously expensive goods. "But I doubt if we could afford anything like this." "You never know," the dealer advised. "It all depends on the particular auction. Sometimes, blacks like this bring the highest prices imaginable. Other times, it's disappointing - no one wants blacks that day. Perhaps you'll luck out with a slow day for blacks and this boy will be in your bed before nightfall," he said as he reached over and roughly massaged the boy's massive balls which led to a muffled moan and a quick smile from the slave. "Go ahead and feel him all you want," the dealer said invitingly, letting loose of the slave's balls temporarily. "This boy's so well trained, he never shoots until he's told to, so you don't need to worry about unloading him before the auction," and he started stroking the slave's penis vigorously as an illustration. Bruce declined and they continued through the remaining stock of that dealer, striking up a conversation with the agent who had been hawking the willing pleasure slave. The sales agent, about their age, said he was a local resident of St. Petersburg, was named Ivan, and he was in business with his father and brother, all trying out capitalism for the first time with their newly formed dealership. He informed them he made more in a day peddling slaves that he had made in a year doing factory work and that he enjoyed hawking the available goods as well as "testing out" their sexual skills. By comparison with the brown pleasure slave, all other slaves they inspected in the short remaining time seemed puny and, before they knew it, the auction was ready to start. "We're in luck," Xarife commented. "The auction's well attended and mainly with Russians, it seems. Those greedy dealers will have some competition from the private sector so the prices will be high." "High prices will increase our share all right, Xarife," Bruce added, "but it will also prevent us from buying anything for ourselves I'm afraid." "Don't be so gloomy, my friend. Allah may favor us before the day is over." The auction started exactly at noon and one after another of the naked offerings were placed on the block. Most had been well primed before mounting the block to show off everything they had - swollen balls, aroused penises, and erect tits. Their skin glistened from a fresh coating of oil which highlighted the sweaty sheen of their own arousal. Many painful beatings over the past months had lead to a universal lesson totally inculcated: they were to display themselves with muscles tensed, hands in back of their head to best display their bodies, their ass muscles tensed together with an arched back to best display their tumescent equipment, and with an inviting smile on their face. And they were to keep themselves aroused throughout the sale no matter what tricks they had to use to accomplish this, or risk a beating so severe they would pray for death. The routine slave training procedures seemed to work in that, to a man, all displayed themselves exactly as prescribed, invariably with an inviting smile on their face. Their own cargo was not in the first lot up for sale. But the fifth boy presented was the brown giant with green eyes specially trained as a pleasure slave who had been fitted with the ringed genitals and pierced tits (and the slave the agent reported he had so enjoyed using). The auctioneer grabbed his massive shaft and it grew even larger as the slave began to drip copious amounts of precum to the amusement of the audience. When the auctioneer reached over and sucked one of the massive ringed tits, the slave audibly moaned and the tit expanded to twice its size while the crowd shouted its appreciation of the slave's qualities. When the slave was bent over and spread his cheeks for the audience to best view his hole, the auctioneer calmly inserted the end of his slave whip into the greased hole and the slave groaned but never flinched as the 12" handle disappeared up the hole. The bidding skyrocketed after that and the slave was sold for close to a million dollars, three times the price brought by any slave up to that point. He was knocked down to a man from Dubai who, when the sale was completed, announced he was an agent for a very prominent international oilman who was looking for a green-eyed boy to add to his sizable stable of highly selected boys who were either slaves bought up in markets around the world or, more likely were gifts from companies wishing to gain contracts with his firm. The boy would be well cared for, probably used infrequently by the businessman himself who was getting along in years, but would be well occupied with the demands of the corporation's favored clients, suppliers, and potential customers as well as loaned out to visiting foreign politicians and dignitaries who might be interested in what the slave had to offer in exchange for favorable trade legislation and tariff reductions. The next two offerings were not extraordinary, but brought fairly good prices from out-of-town buyers who couldn't afford the exotic or exceptional. But after that, the blond Russian was offered and when Xarife saw the shiny flexed muscles of the white skinned boy, his large erect penis displayed against his shaved groin, and the engaging smile aimed right at him with a plea in his eye, Xarife was bidding against the dealers before he knew it. As Xarife had predicted, most of the dealers bidding were Arabs or agents for black buyers most interested in blond slaves, but they seemed to back down when they saw a private Middle Easterner bidding against them who was obviously the slave's choice of a master. They probably didn't want the hassle a disappointed bitter slave would give them - especially when they knew he was aware they would nut him the minute the auctioneer could locate a vetinanary or surgeon there in St. Petersburg who would do such an operation. While most eunuchs turned out to be compliant and submissive, they often became sour and querulous as they realized their manhood had been taken from them for good. Without the demands of certain buyers who insisted on owning eunuchs, it hardly seemed worth the effort. Especially since it was well established that even the most rebellious male slaves could be well controlled without the need to alter them physically. The fear of continuing physical punishment, the severe pain masters could order up at their slightest whim, the total control of their food intake and comfort, even the total control of their sexual outlets of any type - all served to shape any slave into exactly what any master wanted, no matter how bizarre or demanding. Xarife bought the Russian for $500,000 - a good $400,000 more than he had - and, when this came to light, it looked for a while like the Russian slave would be put back on the block to be re-auctioned and that Xarife would be fined $25,000 for bidding without sufficient funds. But the auction house knew of our ship, the reputation of its owners, and the type of crew it hired, so Xarife was offered a special contract to pay off the rest within 24 hours, which Xarife assured them he could raise by borrowing from his employer with his future profit-sharing distributions as collateral. The comptroller at the auction house pointed out to Xarife that in the fine print, the contract said that if the balance wasn't paid in cash for any reason, that both the goods purchased as well as the purchaser would be sold at the next available opportunity as a penalty. "That means, Xarife, if you don't pay up, you're going to end up right on that auction block over there," pointing to the sales that were still continuing at full speed. "Don't worry," Xarife boasted as he signed the contract with a flourish, "the Servus will loan me the money. After all, what do they have to loose? They can just take it out of my future profit-sharing." "You're obligated to this payment or you'll never see sunset day after today as a free man. Remember our own little `mafia' takes care of all problems we have with slave sales here and they have a heavy stake in the actual operations of the slave auction center. And they don't argue with anyone, not even a crewman of the Servus." The Russian commodity was collared, leashed, given a ragged turtle-necked shirt and a dirty pair of pants to cover his nakedness and his tightly fitted slave collar before leaving the auction site, and turned over to Xarife without further ado. As the Russian slave knelt beside him in his new collar, Xarife was, for the first time in his life, the proud owner of some good looking, well muscled slavemeat. Xarife knew he was pushing his luck to buy up even one slave and certainly couldn't afford any more slave flesh and was anxious to get the Russian back to the ship or a cheap hotel where he could use him privately. But Bruce was not to be distracted by Xarife's success and insisted that Xarife and his newly purchased slave stay at the auction with him. Xarife shrugged and agreed to comply with his friend's request, but ordered the Russian slave, now his, to strip of his newly acquired clothing. When the slave quickly obeyed, Xarife spent the time continually stroking and playing with the Russian's sizable equipment, all in full view of the other bidders, until the poor boy unloaded time after time as the auction continued. At least, he still had his equipment to unload with! About a hour later, the short muscular black the two crewman had inspected just that morning was on the block, but his price started out so high it was obvious Bruce couldn't cover any bid he made on the slave. The price escalated the minute the black shot a huge load right up on the stage with little stroking or manipulation from the auctioneer. Apparently, the boy had been taught to shoot on command and the trick appealed to many dealers who probably saw a quick turnaround profit in him. When the black sold for $900,000, Bruce was glad he had never never raised his hand in the bidding. Eventually, the Sudanese boy the Servus had transported all the way to St. Petersburg was on the block himself, complete with a large appealing erection and swollen balls and tits he'd obviously massaged into prominence. When he was instructed to bend over and spread his cheeks for the audience to view his hole, he flexed his ass muscles so the hole sort of winked at the audience and looked invitingly tight. Bruce started to bid for the boy and successfully became his owner for a mere $295,000 - one of the lowest prices of the day, but still far more than Bruce had available. The Sudanese probably sold so low because he was one of the last to be presented and much of the audience of buyers had already made purchases and drifted away. So although the brown slave sold at an exceptionally low price, it was still far more than Bruce had, so the auction house comptroller again produced the special contract with all the cautions and admonitions and Bruce signed just as the newly purchased slave knelt down and kissed Bruce's feet in gratitude for "buying" him, even if on a 24-hour promissory note. Bruce reached down and petted his black hair, then indicated he should stand and posture as he had on the sales stand and began to stroke the boy vigorously as the slave flexed his muscles and displayed his body to his new owner. Within minutes, Bruce had the boy spurting off in his hand and gasping for air in the throes of orgasm. "Good God," Xarife said disgustedly as he saw the puddle of cum on Bruce' sleeve. "He won't be any good in bed tonight now that you've drained him." "You should talk," Bruce testily countered. "You've milked that Russian five times this afternoon while watching the auction and we haven't even started home yet. I doubt if this Russian slave of yours can even get it up at this point, let alone offer us a sample of his seed." The two slaveboys were given their ragged newly issued pants and turtle-necked shirts to wear outside the sales pavilion and their new owners ordered a cab to take them and their new properties to a small hotel located near the docks where the Servus was anchored. The slaves themselves never even thought of attempting to "escape" their new owners: it had been trained out of them; and, even if it hadn't, they knew better than most that the auction house's mafia would chase them down no matter where they hid and have them back at the auction hour within hours for a near death lesson in slave discipline. The two sailors were prepared to pay out of their purse the small amount charged for the plain room overnight but as the innkeeper looked the sailors over and then looked at the poorly clad, but very handsome young boys with them, he put two and two together and assumed the two boys were local hustlers offering their bodies to visiting sailors as was so prevalent in St. Petersburg these days where jobs were very hard to come by. He looked the "hustlers" over as the sailors were registering for a room and, while they were talking, he offered to waive the fee if he could use one of the "rent-boys," as he called them, for an hour or so. "Already our investment turns to our advantage," Xarife whispered as he pushed the Russian slave forward. "One hour only, innkeeper," he warned. "If the boy isn't cooperative, let me know and he'll wish he was," he said threateningly to the Russian slave. "And don't pay any attention to that collar around his neck - it's a decoration he seems to fancy." "I only want to have the rent-boy suck me off," the innkeeper replied, "and perhaps play with his tits a bit. I'm too old anymore to enjoy myself much beyond that, no matter how willing these dockside hustlers. And I long ago lost the ability to keep it up long enough to fuck a boy very well," he sighed. "I haven't used this hustler to suck yet, but he should do well in that he's supposed to be very experienced in that sort of thing. Let me know of his performance in that area," Xarife said rather seriously as he handed the Russian boy over to the old innkeeper. "Your room is upstairs, first door to the right," the innkeeper said as he reached inside the Russian slave's shirt to feel the boy's tits and then slide his hand down his pants to heft the boy's balls with his other hand. Bruce and Xarife led the Sudanese slave up to the small room, had him promptly strip, and both began to feel the boy's soft smooth skin. "Bend over, boy, I'm want to fuck your hole first," Bruce said as he quickly shed his own clothes. The boy leaned over the only chair in the room and positioned himself for the anal assault by his new owner. "Ugh," the Sudanese moaned as Bruce rammed his entire shaft up the boy's hole and then began to vigorously pump without giving the boy a chance to adjust to the anal invasion. The Sudanese boy clinched his teeth together to keep from screaming despite being well greased before being placed up on the auction block. But he had been trained well enough to know he should keep his groans to himself, and shut his eyes to hide the frightened look in his eyes as his master's extraordinary equipment, far bigger than anything he had encountered before, pounded into him without relief. He wondered if he would be split in half by the assault and at one point felt he was being torn internally by the unrelenting penis plunging inside him. The slave burst into silent tears from the pain, but he endured, as most slaves learn to do, and never failed to keep his ass in perfect position for a good fucking. Just at the point he felt he might lose consciousness, he heard his new owner moan in ecstasy and knew his master was enjoying his use. The Sudanese remembered to tighten his ass muscles at this moment as previous owners had carefully taught him. His master arched over his back, groaned in his pleasure, and then withdrew abruptly, which gave the Sudanese such pain he thought he was being ripped from the inside out. "Ugh," the Sudanese slave moaned as he burst into fresh tears from the terrible pain caused by the abrupt withdrawal. "Thank you, master," he remembered to say, gasping to control the pain within him. "You fuck reasonably well, but we'll need to work on improving your ability in that area," Bruce said professionally. "You're good and tight, but you need additional training before I can farm you out successfully," he added as his wiped his shaft off in the boy's hair. "I'll try out his mouth skills," Xarife offered as he lowered his trousers. "That is, if the boy's master will allow his usage," Xarife laughed. "Kneel, boy, and get that mouth open for the pleasure of your master's best friend." Xarife plunged his shaft down the boy's throat until his balls were meeting the boy's stretched lips and he heard the Sudanese gagging around this new invasion. He reached down and slapped the boy sharply. "None of that, boy," he ordered, "you swallow that shaft down all the way and get to sucking it as hard as you can." Turning to Bruce, he added, "It's obvious the boy is unschooled in cocksucking, Bruce. It's going to take a few days to get him used to a big shaft all the way down his slave throat," and he shoved his ample equipment down the boy until the slave looked like he was suffocating and began to choke. Xarife withdrew his shaft several inches and the boy gasped for air, but promptly swallowed Xarife's prick without prompting until he was again choking. "The boy needs more training than I thought," Xarife mused as he began methodically withdrawing and then reinserting his shaft as the boy gasped for air on the out-take. Within minutes, however, Xarife shot his load down the boy's throat with admonitions the boy had to swallow every drop without fail which he did with a lot of slurping and swallowing sounds. Bruce was ready for some mouth service by this time, and quickly replaced Xarife in his use of the Sudanese's mouth, but this time the boy managed a little better and seemed to be able to swallow the entire length without so much fuss. When Bruce eventually shot his load down the boy's throat, the slave again swallowed every drop and then remembered to clean Bruce off before lowering his head and awaiting further instructions. "Do I have permission to fuck your property, oh high and mighty slave owner," Xarife teased as he jerked the boy up and over the chair again. "By all means," Bruce replied. Xarife, who, like Bruce before him, plunged all the way in without any preliminaries and again the Sudanese boy groaned at the assault - although his new master's recent discharge far up his chute tended to lubricate him somewhat for this new fucking. But Xarife left his shaft deep in the boy's ass and then ordered him to work his ass muscles around the shaft driven into him. The Sudanese complied instantly, and Xarife reported, "The boy has talent, Bruce, at least in the art of assfucking. Just give him a chance to show his talent instead of pumping him without ceasing and you'll see what I mean." After a fairly long period, Xarife eventually shot another load, this time up the boy's anal chute, and, upon withdrawal, the slave remembered to clean Xarife off with his tongue and mouth. "The boy has promise, Bruce, but he's still unschooled. We'll have plenty of time to educate him during our next voyage. If he doesn't learn his lessons properly, we'll simply sell him at our next port and hopefully turn a neat profit. There's always a market for well broken-in boy slaves in the markets we generally visit." "Well, he'll be well broken-in, all right, Xarife," Bruce laughed, "if this evening is any sample of the slave boy's future life." There was a knock on the door and the innkeeper returned the Russian slave. "He sucks well," the innkeeper reported. "If this is the first time you've rented him, you don't need to worry you've wasted your money if you just wanted a good cocksucker," the innkeeper added helpfully. "And he lets you play with his body with no objections whatsoever. Seems like he knows the ropes you'd expect of a good dockside hustler. If I might ask, what does a piece of meat like this cost these days and how long did you rent him for?" Xarife looked at Bruce with a trinkle in his eye. "Fifty dollars U.S. for the night - with no strings attached. He agreed we could do anything we wanted with him." Xarife answered. "A fair price," the innkeeper replied. "I wondered what something like that cost these days. Thanks for sharing that with me - I was just curious." Turning to the "hustler," he added, "You'll probably be able to get a better price if you'd work out so that your muscles develop even more than they have, and you'd re-locate to where hustlers weren't a dime a dozen." Then, rather kindly, he advised the handsome Russian: "Get what you can while you're body is still young and attractive. Before you know it, some fresh young meat will be pushing you off the market. It's sad but true, so make everything you can while there are still buyers out there. Nothing sadder than an over-the-hill hustler if you ask me." "That's damn good advice, mister," Xarife said. "Sound like you know what you're talking about." "I should," the innkeeper replied. "I was a hustler out on those docks for over 10 years. Then I found out no one wanted me anymore. After that, I was lucky to get this lousy job as a innkeeper. I don't earn in a month what I used to earn in a good weekend night, but, hey, a fellow has to live the best way he can," the innkeeper chuckled. "Thanks again for letting me use the boy. Reminded me of old times - although I was usually on the receiving inn, just like this boy, in the old days." When the innkeeper left, Xarife ordered the Russian slave to his knees, and from experience with previous owners, the slave knew enough to open his mouth wide for what he had learned to anticipate when on his knees. His expectations were met when he found his throat stuffed full of prick and he promptly began tightening his throat muscles and suctioning as hard as he could while massaging the prick with his tongue as much as he was able within the tight space restrictions. Xarife loved it and pressed the boy's head tightly to his groin as he shoved the last inch of his prick down the slave's throat disregarding the Russian's ' gagging and choking sounds as he blocked the slave's breathing. "Breath through your nose, boy," he commanded as he pressed the boy's head even closer to him. "Didn't anybody teach you anything up until now?" The Russian slave couldn't respond with his mouth stuffed full but did manage to tighten his throat muscles rhythmically around the inserted shaft and heard his master sigh his approval. Meanwhile, Bruce lifted the boy's hips and positioned him for an anal assault. With a single lunge, Bruce was in him and pistoning away in the boy's narrow chute. The Russian's eyes reflected his fear of being damaged by the simultaneous painful assaults on both his holes but never flinched from his position and allowed his masters to seek their pleasure with his body. After all, he reminded himself as the anal pistoning became more and more painful and the shaft down his throat began tearing some throat tissue, it wasn't his body but his masters they were using so if they wanted to tear that body up, it was their right of ownership and he had no rights whatsoever as a slave. Anything was better than losing his balls if he'd been sold to those Arab dealers, he reminded himself. Both masters reached their own climaxes eventually and the blond Russian slid to the floor when they were finished with him, gasping in pain mixed with relief while both his new master's and his friend's cum flowed out of his mouth as well as his asshole. He didn't think they would use him again for several hours at the minimum, but he was wrong. They ordered the Sudanese slave to fuck him while they watched in fascination as the Sudanese's huge shaft slid in and out of his asshole under their constant instruction and correction of his fucking technique. But the Sudanese slave was forbidden to cum and eventually they ordered him to fuck the blond slave's mouth, again under threat of a beating if he allowed himself to cum. The Russian had had no previous experience with a person of a different race and the monstrous black prick was frightening to him initially due to his huge size and also its strange color. But after a few minutes, he realized the phenomenon of being used was similar no matter what the color. But size was something else! The Sudanese's size stretched both his ass and then his throat until he thought he would surely tear, but his skin dutifully stretched and the sensation of tearing was just a painful illusion. When his master and his friend became bored with his usage, he was ordered to use the Sudanese in the same way he had been used. But he was ordered not to cum under any circumstances so he could never enjoy what he was doing with the overriding fear of losing control constantly present. It was at that point he realized the Sudanese must have fucked him with that same ever-present fear and felt a camaraderie with his fellow slave he hadn't experienced before. The next morning, Bruce and Xarife ordered their slaves to don their ragged clothes and led them back to the dock area and eventually to the very ship the Sudanese had been delivered in only two days ago. The slaves had been so used it was difficult for them to walk without chronic pain and a burning feeling in their asses, but they weren't given much choice in the matter as their masters made them walk in front of them and threatened them with a severe beating if they didn't keep up a brisk pace. The Servus' captain, Captain McAfee, was well aware of their purchases since the auction house "mafia" had contacted him immediately as to the crewmen's failure to pay for the balance of the goods and their signed "promissary notes." He had asked that the two crewmen be sent to his office immediately upon boarding along with their two purchases. Xarife and Bruce, along with their two slaves, reported immediately as commanded, assuming the captain was anxious to work out the arrangement on paying off the balance at the auction house in St. Petersburg and then working out the details of deducting what they owned from their future profit-sharing. "Are these the two you bought?" the captain said, looking at the two raggedly clothed slaves in front of him. "Yes, Uncle, er...Captain," Bruce replied. "The blond slave is Xarife's and the black one is mine," he said proudly. "I'm not used to seeing slaves clothed," the Captain said pointedly. "Strip and display," Xarife and Bruce said simultaneously to their two slaves. The two complied immediately and within seconds were standing in the prescribed display position front of the captain stark naked save for their slave collars. "Not bad," Captain McAfee said appraisingly as his practiced eye quickly assessed every detail of the new purchase's bodies. "They're worth what they sold for." "We thought we got a good price, Captain, and........" "Silence, you idiot," the Captain interrupted Xarife in a cold, forbidding tone.. "A decent price IF you had the money to pay for such goods. But you didn't, did you, you stupid oafs? But you were so eager to fuck their hot available bodies you told the auction house we would pay off the balance out of your future profit-sharing distributions. Well, shitheads, the world doesn't work that way. We don't pay anything out of FUTURE profits. And we're not a lending agency anyway - where in the hell did you ever get a cockamamy idea like that? Do we look like a bank here? We transport slaves, in case you've forgotten, and that's it. We don't give out loans at crew member's convenience; we don't guarantee loans even if the auction house would agree to loaning you the money; and where in the hell were you going to keep the slaves anyway? We're not a boarding house for the crew's personal slaves. Who in the hell did you think was going to feed these properties and where were you going to house them? We don't have room for stock we can't sell and you should know that, you dumbheads." "Well, Captain,..........." "Shut the fuck up, you boneheads," the Captain ranted. "I haven't even gotten to the good part yet. That contract you signed. Did you even read it? "Well, Captain, they were in sort of a hurry and................" "I thought not. Well, here's what you signed. Since you didn't pay for the slaves at time of purchase, you owe them automatically a $25,000 penalty for bidding without sufficient funds. That's added to the balance you owe for the slaves you tried to buy. Since we won't back you and pay up the balance, not only your two slaves here but you two crew members become property of the auction house under their penalty clause." "No way, Uncle" Bruce shouted. "Shut the fuck up, I said," the Captain continued. "These two slaves are simply repossessed for resale, but your sale pays the penalty fee as well as fulfills that contract you signed. And I don't care how much you object, you fucking fools signed that contract and the Russian Mafia will make damn sure that contract is enforced because they're going to make a lot of money selling you off. If the Servus doesn't honor the Russian Mafia's contract, we'll never sell in this port again, and that just ain't going to happen, boys, even if, Bruce, you are my nephew." "But we didn't really..............." "I said shut the fuck up," the Captain roared, "and as you'll soon be slaves yourself, you better damn well learn to start minding." Xarife and Bruce were so stunned they were literally speechless, but as the truth sunk in, they both began to cry. "That's the way it is, boys. Just because you wanted to own a slave of your own when you couldn't begin to afford it, you have ruined your lives. But I do have some good news," the Captain said as the boys stood in place sobbing. "You two bastards won't bring all that much when you're auctioned off. The soft life on board here has turned you to fat a little, your muscles have lost some of the definition they had when we first hired you, and, frankly, neither one of you are hung extraordinarily well. I don't know how you take a fuck, but I doubt you're all that sensational in bed. So I've decided to buy you for the Servus as two of our slave handlers. As you know, our handlers are all slaves themselves and two of them are getting a little long in the tooth for the job. I've noticed they don't really whip the slaves as hard as they used to - barely bring blood on some of their lashings. It's time we sold them off as labor slaves the next opportunity we get. We'll still get something out of them from a mine operator or a warehouse owner who just needs muscle and you can whip a lot of muscle out of a slave, even one over the hill, so to speak. "I doubt if either of you two idiots thought about it much when you were an overseer, but the slave handlers have special off-hour duties: the officers on board the Servus get to use the handlers along with all the other slaves to alleviate their sexual needs while we're at sea - it's one of the little perks officers have and crew don't," he laughed. "Slave handling should come natural to you after working on the ship as a crewman - it's just now you're be whipping the slaves even harder and you'll be the ones branding them, and caging them, and giving them enemas, and preparing them for market. And, each and every night at sea, the officers will come down to the hold and pick their favorite out for bed duty. Yes, boys, you're going to get fucked and have your mouths stuffed more than you ever thought about. So if it's sex you want - and that's what got you in so much trouble to start with in buying these two slaves to satisfy your lust on - that's exactly what you're going to get. It's just this time around, you're going to be on the receiving end." The Captain pointed to a far corner of his apartment where an extremely handsome black slave was crouched. The chained, naked slave had cum all over his body as well as oozing out of his asshole. "That slave there has taken to his new duties with real promise." Bruce and Xarife stared at the naked slave vacuously in that they were still stunned with this new development in their life, but Xarife finally managed to ask, "Capt. McAfee, sir, are you saying we're going to be slaves ourselves?" "Exactly, Xarife. You'll be sold off at tomorrow's auction here in St. Petersburg and, if all goes well, I'm going to buy you to be a slave handler right here on the Servus, you lucky bastard, so it's not like we won't have the pleasure of each other's company any longer. It will just be on different terms." Bruce broke into a new cycle of sobbing. "Slaves, Capt McAfee? We'll be slaves? Even though I'm your nephew, Uncle?" "Yes, Bruce. For life," Capt. McAfee said calmly. "You only make mistakes like you boys made once in a free man life," he chuckled. "The good part is, you'll never make that kind of mistake again. From now on, all decisions, good and bad, will be made for you by your masters. I suppose that will prove to be comforting to you - especially with the decision-making skills you demonstrated at the auction center today, you stupid bastard. I can't let family ties interfere with the Servus' business interests, you idiot. Even you should understand that!" There was a knock at the Captain's door. "Come in," Capt. McAfee responded. Two large burley musclemen, wearing the uniform of delivery men for the auction house, quickly entered and shook Capt. McAfee's hand. "We're here to pick up four slaves, Captain. I believe the Auction House has discussed this with you?" "Yes. No problem. The two stripped down are your slaves that were mistakenly sold off this morning. The two with clothes still on them are to go to slave processing as soon as possible. The way I understand it, all four will be offered in tomorrow's auction. Noon, isn't it?" "That's right, Captain. The sale is scheduled for noon tomorrow, just like the one today. Hope you can attend," the two men said pleasantly as they reached for the manacles they had brought with them. "Yes, I'll be there - with my credit card greased up and ready to go," Captain McAfee laughed. "I'm definitely in the market for the two slaves here with clothes still on their backs. They used to work here on the ship and could prove useful to me until I find a good owner for them in some future port. The other two will have to find new masters to feed and shelter them, although, sporting equipment like that, I doubt if they'll have too much trouble," he commented, reaching over and hefting the genitals of first the blond and then the black slave being discussed. "Both of them look like they'd bed down well." "I can vouch for that," one of the burly men replied. "I was in charge making sure both of them were broken in and knew what a new owner would probably expect from such an expensive piece of goods. Both of them take a fuck really well now and have mouths like velvet. Wasn't that way to start with, let me assure you, but they sure as hell won't disappoint now." The man speaking stood up straight and unconsciously rubbed his genitals with his right hand, reflecting on the level of training he had offered the two slaves over the past few months. "Take them away, then," Captain McAfee said as he turned and went back to the cum-coated slave still back in the corner. "I'm still not finished with this slave here," he chuckled. "But I'll be at the auction tomorrow." With that, manacles were slapped on both wrists and ankles of Bruce and Xarife, and the two naked slaves recently purchased by Bruce and Xarife were told to put their ragged clothes back on. Thick, temporary slave collars were quickly snapped on both Bruce's and Xarife's necks, an accessory the two muscle men knew to bring for any new slave pick-up. When Xarife and Bruce heard the lock snap on their new slave collars, the reality of their plight sunk in at long last. Having been in the business so long themselves, they knew that by evening, they would probably never wear clothes again, would be permanently branded with the auction house's logo and tattooed with a slave identification number, and would have a huge butt plug forced up their assholes to "open" them. By noon tomorrow, they would be body shaved, cleansed inside and out, and have their naked bodies oiled until they glistened before being chained in display positions under the bright spotlights in the pre-sales inspection stations. There they would be felt, fondled, probed, and squeezed with no objections on their part or face being beaten almost comatose. They would be expected to solicit a buyer or face horrific punishments. All this they already knew the minute that heavy collar clicked shut around their thick necks. After all, hadn't they done all of these things just this morning to the two hapless slaves beside them right now, thinking nothing of it? That night in the Auction Center turned to be out exactly as they knew it would be: they were branded, tattooed, body shaved and cleansed, and then fitted with a huge butt plug. The next morning, potential buyers were looking them over like the livestock they now were. Right beside them was the Russian blond and the handsome black they had so enjoyed just the previous afternoon, again sporting huge erections in response to the pawings they were once again receiving by a whole new set of potential buyers. Capt. McAfee arrived in plenty of time to give both his nephew Bruce and Bruce's friend Xarife a thorough going over. He left nothing to chance: both boys were masturbated until they shot off in the small paper cups provided alongside each display stand. Capt. McAfee swirled the output around in his month to test for texture and taste before swallowing the entire amount. Both boys had their plugs removed by the handlers so Captain McAfee could pump an even bigger dildo up their asses to test for their response to a good fucking. And he played with their tits until they were hard and swollen in his hands. Finally, he hefted both boys balls in his hands and roughly squeezed and massaged them until each of the boys moaned in agony. Finally, seemingly satisfied for the moment, he retired and let other buyers handle the merchandise. Bruce was in the second batch to be auctioned; Xarife was in the fourth. As promised, the Captain bought up both of them, easily outbidding all others as bidding, just as the Captain had predicted, was quite low on both slaves. Bruce, the Midwestern American, sold for a mere $290,000; Xarife, a bit more exotic, brought $310,000. Both prices were well below average for sales that day, no doubt due to the very reasons the Captain had forecast as an experienced slaver himself: the slight symptoms of dissipation on their bodies from their pampered life on board the Servus in their past life as crewmen; and the lack of extraordinarily sized genitals on either slave. By that night, Bruce and Xarife, now slave handlers, found themselves in the special cages reserved for slave handlers who were off-duty being looked over by some of the ship's officers who were always looking for new diversions in their beds. "I'll take Bruce," one of Bruce's best friends, the officer of the engine room, said. "I've always wanted to fuck the shit out of you, Bruce, and tonight it's going to happen," he said happily. "You can thank me in the morning, if you know what's good for you, slave," he added threateningly. "And I'm going to treat myself to Xarife," Captain McAfee added jocularly. "You black slaves always have the best mouths on the market," he added as he fastened a leash to the former black crewman's neck collar. "By morning, you'll understand your new slavery a lot better than just sitting here in this cage." As Bruce and Xarife were led to the officer's quarters above, they felt the familiar movement of the ship's propellers begin to churn and knew the Servus was on its way to another slave market thousands of miles away. Intuitively, they knew their lives were inalterably changed and some day, some place, they would once again be standing on an auction block being examined by some potential new master. Such was the life of a slave. ************* Captain McAfee was right. By morning, Xarife and Bruce were beginning to understand the true meaning of their slavery. Bruce's ass was so sore he could barely walk and Xarife felt his stomach filled with cum and a throat stretched until it felt like his slave collar was the only thing keeping it from ballooning out in some sort of strange aneurysm. Nevertheless, the next morning found the two new slave handlers, as naked as the others, yielding their whips on the slave cargo under the watchful eye of overseers - a setting they were used to except now they were the slaves. They fully knew what would happen if they didn't. It was as simple as that. Their overseers, who had been their colleagues and cohorts up until a day or so ago, easily accepted the fact that the former Bruce and Xarife were now just slaves like all the rest of the handlers and should be treated no differently than the others. After all, they were just property now that the Servus had bought them, and should be treated as just that - commodities to do the bidding of others. The Russian blond and the African black, briefly slaves of Xarife and Bruce, did find buyers that next day when they were resold at the Auction Center. The blond slave was bought up by a black mobster from Miami, whose personal fortune could be traced to large scale drug dealing. He was destined to become the black master's display slave, house waiter, and personal whore who would quickly learn to please not only his new master but his master's numerous business associates, many relatives, and a wife range of friends. But he would keep his balls with his new black master who had no interest in eunuchs. Bruce's one-day slave, the brown boy of exceptional good looks, was purchased by a slave-breeding outfit operating right there in Russia who needed a black to turn out the mulatto slaves becoming so fashionable in Russia now.. From now on, his sole output was destined to make new slaves for that ever expanding market. As the Servus disappeared from the horizons of St. Petersburg, Capt. McAfee was busily cabling his partners in New York, the actual owners of the operation. "Grossed $22.4 million on sale of 312 units at St. Petersburg Auction Center. Expenses for bribes, land transport contracts, and auction house fees and sales charges approximately $944,000, a little lower per unit charge than usual. Bought two former crew who had been enslaved for low fees and will utilize their services on board the Servus as slave handlers until fully acclimated to new slave status and bodies are developed to market standards. At that point will sell in appropriate market for considerable anticipated profit."