Date: Fri, 6 Aug 2004 22:16:28 GMT
From: "anonymous4371@juno.com" <anonymous4371@juno.com>
Subject: THE SERVUS' NEXT PORT CALL  (Authoritarian)

                         THE SERVUS' NEXT PORT CALL

                         by Bill Smith


[This tale is a sequel to "The Good Ship Servus" which readers everywhere
seemed to enjoy.  To fully appreciate this tale, you should reread the
original story, posted on this site.]


     As a quick recap for the reader, the freighter SERVUS is unlike any
other ship in the world.  Converted from a medium sized cargo carrier first
launched in the 1970s, it has been carefully converted to its specialized
mission: secretly hauling slaves from one international port to another.
Consequently, its well ventilated cargo hold is 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 are filled by maintenance slaves. Its decks
are edged with six feet privacy screens so, in port stops, the prying eyes
of port workers can'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 have been expanded to expedite the
loading and unloading of the clandestine cargo and each opening has been
fitted with "extender aisles" (like airports) where the goods can be
whisked on and off transport trucks without being seen.  There are four
classes of passengers onboard the Servus:

     (1) its officers, who are part owners of the slaving operation, led by
Capt. McAfee, who also happens to be the uncle of the newly enslaved Bruce,
now a slave handler on the SERVUS. . The officers live in luxurious
quarters onboard ship, made fabulous profits from the black market sale of
slaves they specialize in, and enjoyed the sexual use of all slaves on
board at any time, including both Bruce and his friend Xarife - both of
whom were once overseer employees hired to oversee the slave handlers and
now naked slave handlers themselves.

     (2) the crewmen, generally hired hands with no family or other
traceable ties.  Both Bruce and Xarife were once crewmen, and, as such,
they, like all the others, 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.  Crewmen are very
well paid and enjoy the use of very nice large rooms on ship, and can
participate in a limited profit-sharing plan over the years..  Their main
duties are to supervise the slave handlers, making sure slave discipline is
maintained, and that the cargo is toned, malleable, and presentable for
market sales. Crewman are all sworn to total silence on what they do
onboard the ship, violation of which usually ends in a quick fatal
"accident." Such "accidents," although rare, sent a clear message not lost
on any crewman. If a crewman gets himself into any trouble, such as Bruce
and Xarife did with their unpayable debts to slave dealers, they are
usually just make slaves themselves and sold off at the next port,
something driven home to them recently every time they look at the newly
collared slave handlers, Bruce and Xarife, once fellow crewman with them
onboard the SERVUS.

     (3) slave handlers, of which Bruce and Xarife are the newest
additions, are all slaves themselves.  They are responsible for the cargo's
discipline, maintenance, security, health, sales appeal, and hygiene.  They
are neither sympathetic to their charge's plight nor in any way lenient
just because they are slaves themselves, as Bruce and Xarife are proving
daily in their harsh discipline of the slaves they are handling.  Indeed,
they are often the opposite in that heavy use of the whip makes their job
easier and any signs of hesitancy to use the whip at almost any opportunity
leads to the overseers placing them back into the ranks of those regularly
beaten by their whips - a fact Bruce and Xarife are well aware of.  Slave
handlers hold a privileged position relative to the slaves under them, and
they make sure they retain that privilege.  They are only beaten by the
overseers who make sure they were extracting everything they could from the
slaves.  The slave handlers' only "work" consists of keeping the other
slaves in line by whatever means necessary, making sure the slaves in their
charge are fed and cleansed regularly, but they are not allowed any sexual
usage of the slaves under them or even with each other in that their bodies
beyond to their owners and consequently are devoted to their owner's
pleasure, certainly not their own.  They are subject to being selected by
the officers for usage (as Bruce and Xarife discovered their very first
night as slaves onboard the SERVUS) but generally they are chronically in
need, frequently dripping pre-cum from erect pricks and taking their sexual
frustrations out on the slaves they so want to use under their whips.
Whereas, as crewmen, Bruce and Xarife could at least use their fellow
crewmen or each other, now, as slaves, they aren't even allowed this
privilege.  Slave handlers usually weren't sent off for auction at the next
port due to their training, but this policy could change overnight if the
price of slaves reached such a level that it made sense to just train some
new slaves for their job.  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.  But Bruce
and Xarife were especially vulnerable in that their striking good looks,
magnificent physiques, large easily aroused sexual equipment, and full
understanding of the sexual uses expected of slaves nowadays, combined with
their recent demonstration that this understanding translated into
compliant cooperation with all of their superiors' commands once they were
bedded down, made them very profitable items at any pending auction.

     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, partially restocked with a small number of newly purchased Russian
stock at their last port stop, 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; there was a slave handler
for every ten slaves; and they were 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 SERVUS' 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 easily be
made up given a little time.

				 *********

The Chief of Engineering, Lieutenant Smith, had been one of the first
officers to visit the set of pens reserved for the new purchases.  He
quickly scanned the new properties, all quite good looking, but stopped
immediately when he recognized the former American crewman, now totally
exposed with a body freshly shaved just that morning, a heavy metal collar
fastened tightly around his thick neck, a long, thick prick partially erect
and dripping pre-cum indicating a good-sized butt plug had been inserted
well up the slave's bottom, and large brown tits still erect and swollen
from the handling they had received prior to his auction. The engineer
indicated to the cage master he would like to examine the new slave more
intimately.  Immediately, a leash was fastened to Bruce's slave collar and
he was roughly jerked out into the wide aisle outside his cage where the
leash was handed to the Chief Engineer.

"You make for a pretty slave, Bruce," the Chief Engineer said as he pointed
to a small bench conveniently placed in the hallway, indicating with his
finger that Bruce should stand on the bench.  "Spread those legs far apart,
Bruce, so I can examine your manhood," he ordered.

"You respond well to being plugged, slave," he commented as he wrapped his
hand around Bruce's semi-erect circumcised organ and began stroking.  "It's
not only stretching you for a slave's proper use, but it's keeping your
organ reasonably hard so you display well.  It might be well to keep a plug
in you permanently, Bruce," he commented as he increased the milking action
on the slave's penis, "even once we've got you stretched properly so you
take to being fucked easily enough."

Bruce knew that slaves did not respond unless asked a direct question and
so hung his head submissively and smiled as he knew slaves were expected to
do when being handled like this.

"Having worked around new slaves as you have, Bruce, I'm not surprised
you're demonstrating good voice control.  It's good to be quiet like a
slave should, but you realize, Bruce, that most likely we'll need to clip
your vocal cords, like we do most of our slaves on board the SERVUS, before
selling you off the ship.  I don't think," he laughed, "that Captain
McAfree will want you telling some future master and his cronies that you
were once a crewman onboard the SERVUS.  Such a story might make it hard to
recruit crew in the future and would be most unfair to the SERVUS' mission.
Afterall, you and Xarife are very rare cases.  No crewman I can think of
would ever be so juvenile and immature as the two or you proved to be."
The Engineer continued to stroke Bruce's huge organ, now fully erect and
copiously dripping, as he continued.  "Some people just can't ever make
good decisions for themselves and usually end up as slaves where all the
decisions are made for them.  That's what most people call "natural slaves"
and you and Xarife are clearly in that category.  Your lives from now on
will probably be much happier for you - your only mistakes now will be in
not obeying your master instantly and completely in all things.  Don't you
agree, slave?"

"Yes, master," Bruce said, gasping as he tried to control shooting off in
the Engineer's hand without permission. All the endless handling, and even
the three complete milkings, while at the St.  Petersburg Auction Center
earlier in the day, did not prevent him from becoming totally aroused once
again under the Engineer's fondling and, unconsciously, he felt his hips
began to buck a little as familiar feelings of a pending orgasm took over.
"Master, master," he pleaded with his eyes as he struggled to maintain
control over his body.  "May I shoot, master?" he risked verbally.

The engineer's hand shot out and slapped him soundly across his handsome
face. "Certainly not, slave.  It's way too early in the evening for
anything like that, Bruce, as you, of all the slaves down here in the pens,
should understand."

"Yes, master," Bruce said softly, noting that the severe slap had had the
effect of temporarily diminishing his ardor and he was once again back in
control of his body.

"Are you completely flushed out and properly lubed?" the engineer asked.

"Yes, master," Bruce answered.

"Very well, Bruce," the engineer said as he handled the collar leash to
Bruce.  "You know where my cabin is.  Go up there and get yourself by the
bed on your knees with your mouth open ready to shallow my prick clear down
to its roots.  After you've got it rock hard and lathered it good, I want
you positioned on the edge of my bed belly down with your ass opened wide
for a fucking you won't soon forget.  I'll be up just as soon as I grab a
cold beer at the Officer's lounge.  I always like a cold beer when I get
into serious fucking."

"Yes, master," Bruce said as he took the end of his own leash in his hand,
tucked it into his collar as he seen done by countless other slaves in
similar circumstances over the years, jumped down from his stance on the
bench and trotted off to the officer's room, his rampant swollen prick and
huge balls swaying as he walked.  As he climbed the eight flights of steps
to the officer's deck, he wondered how big the engineer actually was when
he was fully excited and how quickly the engineer could be satisfied in the
use of his body.  If he were lucky, the engineer's phallus would be only
average in size and his libidinal needs could be quickly met with one good
sucking off, or failing that, one mercifully short fucking.  He knew that,
as a slave, he would need to fully satisfy the engineer no matter what he
wanted, or suffer the consequences which would be far worse than anything
the engineer might do to his body this night, no matter how intense or
vitriolic.

Xarife, the dark Middle Easterner, had appealed to Bruce's uncle, the
indomitable Capt.  McAfee who had enslaved them only yesterday following
the two former crew's fiscal shenanigans.  The Captain hadn't even bothered
to go to the slave's pens to claim his new bed buck - he had simply called
the cage master and told him to have the new slave, already completely body
shaved for his auction inspection, delivered to his cabin freshly flushed
out, again washed and oiled, and thoroughly lubricated in his ass chute, a
procedure which left Xarife with little doubt as to what his body was to be
used for once in the captain's bed.  The Captain had left orders that
Xarife was to be fitted with temporary tit rings in both of his large brown
tits, have his huge genitals temporary banded with a leather collar so that
they protruded obscenely in front of him, and even be fitted with a
temporary large nose ring which simply, but painfully, clamped onto the
septum inside his nose. Once administered his succession of enemas for the
thorough flushing, he was to be fitted with a huge 12 x 5 butt plug to
insure constant arousal as well as prepare his ass for a good fucking. That
done, one of the slave handlers hooked a leash to his genital band and led
him by his balls to the captain's suite where he was unceremoniously
leashed to the headboard on the captain's bed, leaving no doubt where and
what his duties would be over the next few hours.

Capt. McAfee was sitting at his desk going over some accounts and didn't
even bother to look at Xarife as he was led in and fastened to the bed.
But Xarife noticed he wasn't the only slave in the Captain's quarters.
Kneeling under the desk with his face buried between the Captain's legs was
a beautiful black slave, his well defined back muscles in clear evidence as
the slurping and swallowing sounds left no doubt as to what he was doing to
his owner.  Eventually, Xarife heard the Captain grunt, arch his back
sharply, and jam his pelvis as far as possible into the slave's mouth,
holding it there until it was evident he had been completely drained by the
slave's oral ministrations. The slave's throat muscles, barely visible,
were in constant motion as the black suckled his master and swallowed every
last drop of his master's discharge.  Finally, after cleaning his master
completely and carefully fastening the front of the Captain's trousers, the
naked slave crawled out from under the table and, his gigantic equipment
fully hard, knelt beside his master where his tits, as well as his curly
short hair, were easily available for his master's play.

Xarife was struck with the slave's uncommonly handsome features - he seemed
to be the "perfect man" by most anyone's definition, projecting an air of
total availability and eager subservience to anything desired by his
betters. This slave had thoroughly assimilated that his greatest asset was
his body and that asset should be turned into advantage every chance he
got. It was a model not lost on the newly enslaved Xarife. The former
crewman had been around slaves for years now and knew a slave's attitude
was everything - it made the difference between a happy, contented slave
that found the comfort of their master's favor both in and out of bed, and
an unruly, disliked slave that quickly found themselves sold off to the
horrors of the mines or the rendering plants.  Studying the black slave and
his quivering prick so proudly displayed, Xarife vowed to mold himself into
the perfect pleasure slave, like the black just a few feet away, that would
bring top dollar at any marketplace and a good master that would appreciate
their qualities and take care of him.

"You, slave," the Captain directed as he twirled his chair around from the
desk. "Go over to the slave on the bed and have him suck you all the way
down until your prick is all wet and slimy.  Then I want you taking his
plug out and fucking the new slave with everything you've got - and make
sure he's positioned so I don't miss a thing.  After you've opened him up
good and left a good load of your cum in him to make him all slick and
comfy, I'll take a crack at that ass of his.  I don't mind mixing slave
juices with my own in what I expect to be a tight ass anyway despite that
big plug jammed up his asshole. You understand, black boy?"

The black slave grunted positively, all that he could do since he had been
muted only a few weeks into his own slavery, now dating back nine years
when he was just 15 and first prepared for the auction block back in his
native south side Chicago. Without delay, he stood up to his full six feet,
walked the few feet over to the bed and, with little ceremony, grabbed
Xarife's head with one huge hand, reached down to Xarife's balls with the
other hand, and, opening his own mouth widely to show Xarife what he
wanted, began roughly sqeezing Xarife's balls until Xarife opened his mouth
as wide as he could and swallowed the black slave's huge prick as far down
his throat as he could on a first attempt.

"Um...Um," the black slave responded as he pumped a few more inches into
Xarife's facial cavity until Xarife began choking and gagging from the huge
intrusion down his throat.  The black's left hand squeezed Xarife's balls
even tighter, knowing the slave sucking him couldn't scream with his mouth
stuffed full, and, with his right hand, began twisting one of Xarife's
temporary tit rings until the tit turned bright purple and pain shot
through Xarife's body in all directions from the sensitive pap. The expert
manipulation of Xarife's body by the black slave paid off: his throat
muscles opened and the black's huge prick slid down fully until it was
completely swallowed although he could no longer breathe and his own prick,
just seconds ago limp from the pain racking his body, was now fully erect
and dripping from the nipple stimulation. Within 45 seconds, Xarife felt
load after load of hot cum sliding down his throat into his stomach and
just as he felt he would pass out for lack of air, the huge organ down his
throat detumesced and he could breath once again although the organ had not
been withdrawn.

Xarife wondered why the black hadn't withdrawn his organ and then
remembered that he was to completely coat it with a lather of his own
saliva so the black could fuck him easily.  He filled his mouth with spit
and twisted the pole around his mouth, lathering it completely as the black
slowly withdrew, his huge pole already beginning to swell back to its full
size.

Once the black's prick was totally withdraw and literally dripping with
Xarife's mouth lather, the black slave motioned for Xarife to lie on his
belly with his legs stretched wide apart so his hole was fully exposed.
The black slave pulled and tugged on the butt plug until it came out of
Xarife's hole with a loud plop.  The black placed the plug on the bedside
table and scooted Xarife's body around until the forthcoming ass fucking
was at the perfect angle for viewing by his master.  He hunched over
Xarife's hole, his huge black prick once again full erect and quivering in
need, and then looked at the Captain for approval to commence the fucking.
The Captain smiled and the black jammed the first four inches into Xarife's
hole and paused.

Xarife was hardly a virgin, but this black slave's prick was something else
again.  Even the first third of it in his hole sent shock waves throughout
his body as its huge girth stretched his canal like never before. Despite
himself, he moaned audibly and issued animalistic grunts as he tried to
adjust to the black invader snaking up his ass.

"Quiet, Xarife," the Captain laughed.  "It's barely in you yet and you're
squealing like a pig.  At this rate, you'll be bellowing like a moose in
heat by the time he's fully in you."

"Yes, master," Xarife groaned between clinched lips as wave after wave of
pain swept over his body from the sudden ass stretching.

"OK, slave," Capt. McAfee pointed to the black mounted over Xarife's ass.
"Stop horsing around and start some serious fucking.  All the way in, black
boy, and hump like your life depends on it," he barked, "because it just
might, you know," he threatened.

"Yes, master," the black slave said as best he could with his mutilated
voice box as he plunged his huge shaft completely into the slave beneath
him, who screamed in agony as he felt he was being torn in half.  Once in,
he began plummeting Xarife's hole vigorously, taking his huge penis almost
all the way out and then plunging it to the bottom on each stroke.  Before
four strokes had been completed, Xarife was bleeding; by eight strokes he
was screaming uncontrollably; by 12 strokes he had passed out.  Not being
commanded to stop, the black slave continued raping Xarife until he
suddenly paused at the end of a stroke, looked beseeching at his master,
and whispered "Please, master, Please."

The plea wasn't for Xarife's sake; it was for his own.  The black
desperately needed to cum once again and that's exactly what his master
wanted - the black slave to completely lube Xarife with his own cum before
he fucked him himself.  He nodded his head at the black who plunged all the
way into Xarife, held it, shuttered throughout his body and then,
shuttering anew each time, arched his back five times as load after load
was deposited into Xarife's stretched rectum.  He then dismounted and
promptly knelt on the floor beside the bed, his huge muscles twitching with
each post-orgasm shudder and his skin shiny with sweat as he again assumed
the proper position for a well trained slave: back rigid with head bowed
and chest thrust out, eyes to the ground, and with his hands in back of him
with his legs wide spread to best expose his massive genitals, his balls
now resting on the floor beneath him.

The Captain then ordered Xarife onto his back with his legs thrown back
over his shoulders with his legs wide spread to best exposed his
well-stretched hole, now oozing with frothy white cum and his own ass
juices mixed with a little blood. Looking Xarife straight in the eyes as he
methodically fucked him over and over throughout the night, Xarife had one
of the longest nights of his life.  Fucked three times on his back by the
Captain, he was then ordered to his stomach and fucked twice more by the
Captain, three more times by the black slave (now fully recovered), and
lost count when he passed out as the Captain crawled between his legs to
start another round of assaults.  He regained consciousness briefly only to
remember when the black slave was carrying him in his huge arms down all
those steps to the pens back down in the hold and then passed out again
until he remembered the Cage Master pushing the huge butt plug back up his
torn and bleeding asshole once again.

When he finally regained consciousness, Bruce was groaning in agony beside
him as he churned his ass around, trying to fit himself more comfortably
around the ass plug inserted back in him also.

"You plugged again too?" Xarife gasped out as he twisted his tender ass
around the huge plug within him.

"Yep!" Bruce whimpered.  "But that's nothing compared to what the Chief
Engineer did to me tonight.  I'm surprised I'm still alive."

"You too, Bruce?  I thought at one point I had died, but I see I haven't,"
Xarife said as he again tried to move around the pole inserted in his
ass. "That uncle is yours is one well hung bastard, let me tell you, and he
has a black slave up there that's bigger than a donkey in heat but can fuck
twice as long."  He had never seen Bruce crying before, but when he looked
over, that's exactly what he saw.

"Hey, buddy, it will be all right.  Tell your Middle Eastern friend all
about it and maybe you'll feel a little better."

"The Chief Engineer wasn't at all what I thought," Bruce sniffed. "When we
were crewmen, he always treated me quite decently, considering he was an
officer and all.  But now, I'm just a piece of fresh meat to him.  Xarife,
he fucked me so long and so hard I couldn't even crawl out of his bed and
I'm still bleeding a little.  And he had me suck him off twice on top of
all that so my throat is all sore and raspy. He's pumped so much cum down
my throat I'm still burping it up and my throat feels like its been swabbed
in carbolic acid, but I'm sure it's just because it's been stretched so
much.  And look at my tits!  He worked them over until both of them were
three times their normal size and bleeding.  They're so sore I can't even
lie on my belly."

But then Bruce looked up at Xarife and gasped.

"Why!  He's got rings in your tits and, Xarife your nose, it's been
ringed." Looking down, he froze as he looked at Xarife's banded genitals.
"Xarife!  They've banded you!" Fresh tears shot into Bruce's eyes. "Oh,
Xarife, the Captain turned you into a ...... a slave."

"The rings and bands are just temporary..... for now, at least.  But,
Bruce, ..... I am a slave....  and so are you, my friend.  And slaves, as
we both know so well, having worked on the SERVUS for how many months now,
are commonly banded, ringed, fucked until they're raw and bleeding, and
have throats sore and swollen from sucking the big ones."

"Xarife, I'd forgotten... just for a moment.  You're right, of course.
What happened to us tonight if the common lot of the slaves on this ship as
we both know so well.  If it's not the Chief Enginner and my uncle,
Capt. McAfee, it will any one of scores of others."  He broke into a fresh
round of whimpers and tears.

"Well, Bruce.  Let that be the lesson then. All the other slaves adjust,
one way or another.  They either learn to live with it or their body
toughens to the new demands or they just will themselves to accept it.  I
don't know what they do yet, but I damn well know I'm going to find out
real soon.  And Bruce, I don't know of any slave on this ship that ever
actually died.  I know they talk about being fucked to death, but I don't
actually know of any slave who that ever really happened to, although it
seems to me it should have if tonight is any example.  But, Bruce, if they
can adjust, so can we.  We're just as tough as they are... and we have the
advantage of knowing it from the other side."

"You think it's an advantage to remember being free men, Xarife?
Especially free men on the SERVUS?  How so?" Bruce asked, crying silently
now.

"Bruce, we know they don't think of us as human anymore, just as we never
thought of all those slaves we whipped into action as being anything but
animals.  We know how to meet our masters expectations, Bruce, because we
once were the masters.  They want unflinching obedience at all times and to
think of ourselves as they think of us - as animals put on this earth for
their convenience and pleasure.  Act the part and we'll quickly grow into
it," Xarife advised.  "Despite the pain up our ass from these huge butt
plugs and our bleeding nipples."

"Xarife, sometimes you're amazingly clever for just a dumb sand nigger
trapped in an amazingly good looking body.  I think you've hit the nail on
the head in our case.  We're slaves now, as our masters so convincingly
demonstrated to us in their beds tonight.  The faster we adjust, the
happier we're going to be.  It's going to take more than fucking us
senseless to flick out our enjoyment of living.  In fact, all that fucking
just may be the very thing to get us going," he smiled for the first time
that evening.

"Well, Bruce, you Americans always like to get fucked, God knows, one way
or another.  That's probably why you bring top dollar on the auction
block."

"Oh, Xarife, I always thought we Americans brought top dollar because we
had the biggest pricks, the most innocent faces, and the best bubble butts
in town," Bruce chucked as the tears began to dry on his cheeks.

"That too," Xarife conceded, "but all of that is a dime a dozen if you just
look around.  Americans have no monopoly on any of those things.  But we
Arab steeds, on the other hand, have special qualities considerably rarer
in even the biggest auction houses."

"Like conceit, hubris, a weird philosophy that turns a horrendous fucking
into a wondrous learning experience, and bodies that just reek of good
sex," Bruce said as he reached out and hugged his long time friend.

"Well, that too," Xarife said as he snuggled close to his friend and both
drifted into an exhausted sleep.

				  ******

All slaves onboard the SERVUS were required to work at least one 11 hour
shift daily doing all the cleaning, rearranging cargo, and maintenance work
inherent on any freighter.  Each morning, they were required to shit and
piss at the communal toilets, submit to a series of enemas so they got used
to being "cleansed," bathe and body shave each other (slaves were not
allowed to touch their own bodies at any time) in the communal showers, and
then lubricate each others' anal chutes before each was fitted with their
butt plug for the day. Following this 20 to 30 minute routine (speeded up
considerably by a good whipmaster until all slaves did all these things
with maximum efficiency), each slave was allowed to kneel at a common
trough where food and water were available but where use of their hands was
forbidden.  Hence, they had to grovel their faces into the trough to get
the dry slave chow into their mouths and they had to lap up the water with
their tongues from the adjoining water trays.  For the first few days of a
slave's life, this was done clumsily and with poor results.  But chronic
hunger quickly improved their skills and within a week most slaves had
their eating habits perfected so they could fill their bellies in the short
time allotted for eating and drinking. Watching slaves eat like this
reminded observers of pigs swilling without all the noise and it was easy
to forget that those they were observing probably once ate just like those
who now owned them.  But the slave way was so much faster! Since all slaves
were kept naked, no time was wasted getting dressed, so within 30 minutes
after awakening, a slave was ready to work the full 11 hour day with no
interruptions.

Work was invariably "under the whip," with the skilled handlers laying it
on heavily initially to establish their authority and reintroduce the slave
to real pain early in the work day, then lightening up, and then gradually
increasing the whip in both frequency and intensity to offset the
inevitable fatigue interfering with the slave's maximal output. By the end
of 11 hours, the handlers had not allowed any slave to slow down in any
way, although their reddened and bruised backs and rumps attested to the
marvel of the "Motivator" Mylar whips they utilized - no lacerations, no
bleeding, no scars, and no disfigurements to decrease a slave's resale
value and yet intense (and totally motivating) pain was a constant
experience for any slave under the new man-made whips. Whereas, in the old
days when rhino hide bullwhips were commonly used, slaves were profusely
bleeding and torn to shreds at the end of end of a work shift, now their
bodies were intact and ready for usage in their owner's beds each and every
evening. Now the sheets were no longer soaked in blood before the night was
half over; now slaves no longer screamed in agony when asked to roll over
or change position.

At the end of a work shift, the slaves were sent back to the communal
hygiene facilities where their butt plugs were removed and once again they
pissed, shit, bathed each other, and submitted their rectums to a thorough
cleansing before relubing for the evening's activities.  Freshly oiled,
they displayed their bodies in numerous positions and poses to find a
"user" which assured being fed before retiring.  If someone choose them for
use, they were led by their leashes to the appropriate apartment or suite
with the sole purpose of doing everything possible to please their
master(s) or mistress(s) for the evening.  If they were successful, once
their mistress or master was totally satisfied, they were led back to the
holding area, fed like in the morning, and then caged for sleep.  If
unsuccessful in luring a user for the evening they were refitted with a
"punishment dildo" of stupendous size for the night and led to their cage
unfed.  If they were chosen for usage, but failed to fully satisfy whoever
chose them, they were administered 50 ferocious lashes with the Mylar whips
on all parts of their body and then their unconscious body, unfed, was
fitted with a punishment dildo and thrown into a cage for the night. Just a
few nights of not being fed led to rapid enthusiasm for being chosen for
bed duty at night, no matter what was demanded of the slave in that role.
And the punishment for not pleasing your user insured not only total
compliance regardless of the acts requested but fervid eagerness to boot.
As Captain McAfee so succinctly put it, "Slaves should take an active role
in their own degradation - it's the best type of training."

Most slaves had satisfied the users choosing them by no later than midnight
and were soon caged in the hold after that in that few users wished to have
a slave covered with cum, sweat, and ass juices stinking up their
apartments when they were through with them.

Then, promptly at seven each and every morning, another day began and the
whole cycle repeated itself.  It was amazing how rapidly the slaves
acclimated to their new life onboard the SERVUS and seldom did a slave,
even those just introduced to slavery, ever rebel, refuse a command, or
display resentment. The penalties for such unseemly behavior were just too
great to allow such frivolity. As Capt. McAfee so aptly put it, "An empty
stomach and a steady whip teaches total compliance - there are no martyrs
among slaves - at least not among the tens of thousands I've dealt with
over the years.  Even though they're just slaves, they're not idiots."

Bruce and Xarife weren't idiots or martyrs either.  Within a week they had
"settled in" to their new life and by the end of two weeks saw themselves
as nothing but slaves tolerated and fed as long as they exhibited total
compliance and complete obedience to the demands of their masters. Their
hole, now the property of their owner along with the rest of their body,
was being stretched each and every day, and being fucked was no longer the
dreaded trauma it had been when they had first been enslaved.  Over time,
sucking and taking a fuck was no different to them than taking a shit or
pissing on command.  It was a bodily function like all others, and, as
such, they learned to take some pleasures in it comparatively: fresh warm
cum tasted good to a hungry stomach; a nice long prick tickling your
prostate in a solid fucking led to delights of its own, generally
understood only by slaves regularly fucked by well equipped studs; being
fondled and stroked became a rare, but appreciated, gesture of approval and
affection so lacking in a slave's life who had no family, no support
groups, no spouses, and no children of their own - only a master they were
desperate to "love."

Bruce, who had been initiated by the Chief Engineer into his sexual duties
soon had many other tutors and within a month had warmed the beds of almost
all the SERVUS' officers.  Some officers were gentle, others sadistic, some
well built and hugely hung, some flabby and small where it matters.  Some
wanted to fuck their chosen slave, others were more interested in being
sucked off.  The female officers and a few of the males preferred for Bruce
to fuck them, an unexpected treat he hadn't thought of when first
introduced to slavedom. Over time, Bruce found himself being chosen by
mainly black officers and the women and soon learned to pitch his appeal to
them when being displayed.

Xarife, in contrast, was primarily chosen by white officers, both male and
female. As an exotic, everyone wanted to use him at least once for whatever
fancy suited them and initially there was a furor over who choose him first
for the evening.  The compromise, of course, was that he generally had
multiple users in a given night, one after the other, or, more common,
being shared by two or more users in a given session. This was especially
common among the women officers who liked to watch him stud one of their
colleagues while they viewed him in action knowing their turn using his
body was coming up.  But, as time passed, so did his novelty, and by now
his schedule was much like his friend Bruce - one user a night for a rather
prolonged session. Two of the officers were Scandinavian blonds who found
particular pleasure in the use of handsome, black haired brown- skinned
slaves.  To them, Xarife, with his long, thick prick and lusty good looks,
was the perfect bed mate and Xarife found himself in their bed more often
than not, often with both of them sharing his body.  They particularly
enjoyed filling both his holes at once and Xarife knew the minute he was
chosen by the two of them he would soon have his mouth stuffed by one's
huge prick while his asshole was rammed by another's thick tool.  Then,
after shooting a full load into his body, they would switch and the whole
routine would repeat itself - along with much chatter in Swedish, no doubt
about his body and its hidden talents.

Both new slaves hardened to the new demands on their bodies.  Just as their
arm, chest, and leg muscles developed to meet the demands of their daily
cleaning and maintenance chores, their ass chute stretched and calloused
so, no matter what was stuffed up it, it no longer bled or felt like it was
being torn apart and their throat's involuntary gagging and choking was
soon conquered no matter how big a shaft they were told to swallow all the
way down.  Now, when another session of sexual usage was scheduled with
whoever chose them, they no longer felt dread or apprehension - for the
most part they viewed these demands on their bodies no differently than
their daytime chores - it was just a task to be done and they did it
without judgment or evaluation.  They were slaves now and slaves were
valuable properties that were there to make themselves useful - it was as
simple as that and they stopped philosophizing or evaluating.  Their main
task now was to make darn sure they remained valued by their owners.

				 ********

. . Bruce and Xarife had only a few hours to rest up and share information
with each other after they had been recaged in the early hours of their
second day onboard the SERVUS as slaves themselves. On their very first
night as SERVUS slaves, they had each been chosen by one of the ship's
officers to provide the sexual pleasures expected of all slaves onboard,
but especially the enjoyment inherent in the beautiful bodies of the two
new slaves. But they certainly weren't the only slaves onboard the SERVUS
offering service to the officers that night.

In the adjoining cage, Bruce studied three black slaves that had been
purchased by the SERVUS in North African markets but did not meet the
minimum bid requirements when placed up for sale in St. Petersburg. Bruce
remembered them when he was a crewman - he had ogled their naked bodies
many a time when they ended up under his supervision and usually got a
hardon just looking at their beautiful muscled shiny black bodies, their
handsome faces, and their magnificent equipment which had been on full
display and almost always at least partially erect from the day they had
first been purchased in the North African markets.  When he and Xarife were
crewmen (which they were until just a few days ago, but it seemed like a
lifetime ago after their experiences in the St.  Petersburg slave market
and their usage last night) he especially enjoyed having the opportunity to
whip the black slaves and see them writhe in agony as the lash torn into
their backside and he really envied the officers who, each and every night
after supper, routinely snapped a leash to the black's collars and guided
them to their private quarters for some serious pleasure-giving, an option
denied a mere crewman.

Xarife had suspicioned that the Russian buyers, unfamiliar with black
slaves, were wary of them and, although they enjoyed looking every aspect
of their bodies over thoroughly when they had been put up for pre-sale
display, shied away from bidding the big bucks blacks typically brought in
world markets these days. The blacks, worn out and sore from being fondled,
poked, and prodded, and stroked throughout the long auction day, were
disappointed they had not found a new home in the strange, cold land of the
last market and returned to the SERVUS knowing they faced another long
series of hard work assignments during the day followed by exhausting
sexual usage most nights by the ship's officers and crew. After just one
auction and one night of usage, Xarife was beginning to understand exactly
how they felt and was already looking forward to the opportunity of being
sold to a whole new life at the next port.

"Too bad our cages are separated," Bruce said to his cagemate Xarife.  "If
we ever get caged with those black beauties, I don't care how worn out I
am, I'm going to enjoy them if they're up to it at all."

"Why should they let you use them?" Xarife countered.  "You're just a slave
yourself now, Bruce.  And slaves generally don't let just any old slave use
them - especially a slave that just a few days ago was at the other end of
a whip as far as they're concerned.  Be grateful the strong bars of the
cages are in place - otherwise, they just might beat the crap out of you
now that you're no long a crewman." Xarife paused and again studied the
black's huge cocks, slowly becoming erect as they realized the two former
crewmen were looking at them. "Or, looking at those huge cocks swelling to
full size, fucking you to death given the chance."

"I keep forgetting we're slaves now," Bruce whimpered, "despite everything
that's happened to us over the last 24 hours. If being fucked half to death
by the Lieutenant didn't teach me a slave's status, certainly being mauled
and being milked over and over in the slave market until my prick was so
raw and sore it hurt just to look at it, should have taught be what a
slave's status is in this world.  But, no, I'm still thinking like a free
man even when cum is dripping out of my ass."

"It'll take time, Bruce," Xarife counseled.  "You know that.  After all,
you've been in the business of breaking in new stock for months now and
surely, if you learned nothing else, you must have learned it takes time
for new slaves to adjust and buckle under.  Give yourself a month or so and
see if you don't settle in like all those other slaves we've seen do it
right here onboard the SERVUS."

The blacks in the next cage had certainly "settled in."  Denied any sexual
outlets of their own while servicing the officers that had chosen them
after dinner, the black slaves wasted little time in utilizing their cage
mates to alleviate their overwhelming need during one of the few times they
were not directly supervised.  The minute the cage door was locked, they
quickly sought out each others' openings, inserted their throbbing organs,
and began to hump like primordial animals. What they were fucking was well
lubricated by the residual cum of their previous users - the holes they
entered were already well stretched.  But the grunting and moaning
emanating from their steaming black hides as they frantically sought relief
was as honest and sincere as the howls of pure joy pouring out of their
throats as, one after another, they emptied their swollen balls into their
equals - black slaves there for the enjoyment of the crew until they could
be sold off as a "pleasure stud" to someone lucky enough to be able to buy
them outright.

				  ******

What Xarife and Bruce didn't know yet was that, after selling off most of
the white slaves in the Russian market, the ship's cargo now consisted
primarily of black slaves - slaves gathered from markets throughout Africa,
of course, but also from the many sources of black slaves in the United
States, Brazil, Mexico, Central America, and most Caribbean islands.  This
was by design in that the SERVUS' next call was a mysterious port on the
Red Sea that was literally unknown to any but those dealing in human
flesh. To the "insiders" the market there was the quintessential epicenter
of black slaves, each and every one well-trained, well built, healthy, and
totally compliance to any and all demands made by those lucky enough to own
them.

Kadivaa, as it was known, had been a major slave port for over 2000 years
and today, although the slave auctions were now carefully concealed and
hardy in the public eye, remained one of the largest markets for black
flesh in the entire Middle East.  Indeed, demand for blacks there, as it
was throughout the world currently, was at an all time high based on black
slaves' long standing reputation for big muscular physiques, large sexual
organs backed up by unflaggingly quick and long- lasting sexual response, a
rapid, almost natural, acceptance of their slave status, and, especially
those with handsome appealing features, an eagerness to please their new
masters or mistresses sexually.  All of these characteristics meant black
slaves brought top prices in the Kadivaa markets, and the SERVUS' cargo was
perfectly selected for the market demands there. Capt. McAfee was riding on
a ship full of black gold and planned to make a sizeable fortune before the
SERVUS hauled up anchor and left the Red Sea port city, albeit riding
considerably higher in the water after the huge cargo had been sold but
with their international bank deposits markedly richer.

				   *****

The three blacks in the adjoining cage sighed in contentment as they
emptied their balls into each other until all were completely drained. As
they snuggled together in their cage, preparing to use each other's bodies
as pillows for their night's rest, they contemplated their future.

"I heard the navigator - he's the one that screwed me half to death this
evening - tell his assistant that we were headed for Kadivaa," a handsome
coffee-colored black said to the other two, his huge prick still wet with
ass juices, cum, and saliva.

"Kadivaa? Really?" exclaimed another black in the pen, this one jet black
with a fantastic musculature, a beautiful face with blue eyes, straight
hair, massive pecs with huge swollen tits, and a 12x6 phallus that was
truly remarkable.  "I've heard it's a huge market that sells mainly black
boys like us."  His monstrous prick swelled even larger in his excitement.

"My last master, before the SERVUS bought me, always wanted to go to
Kadivaa to buy a slave, but said he couldn't afford the goods there," the
third slave added, a very light colored black with unusual brown curly
hair, a beautiful smooth yellow tan hide, the usual huge sexual organs, and
a well-defined "bubble butt" that distinguished him, but certainly added to
his value. "If he knew what he was talking about, that would mean we should
bring top dollar there."

"Yeah, top dollar means good treatment," the first slave smiled.  "Masters
tend not to damage goods they paid big bucks for - hurts the resale value."

"More than likely that's why none of us were ever cut and have all our
manhood intact, or had our backs torn up with the whip, or can still talk
with our vocal cords left in us.  We're worth too much to alter us to
individual tastes or damage our bodies just for some whim or
another. That's what happens to slaves that are puny or ugly or
small-dicked or don't take to their training or are getting old or are just
worn out."

"Aren't too many of those on the SERVUS," the second slave snickered.  "The
slaves I've seen onboard would all bring top dollar - we're just lucky some
of the officers have taken a fancy to us or we wouldn't have the luxury of
our separate cage down here."

"That separate cage costs plenty," the light-skinned slave snorted.
"Fucked every night until we can hardly walk and with our throats stretched
twice their size swallowing all those pricks poked down us and with our
bellies filled with cum by the time they're through with us - seems to me
we're earning our keep."

"We better earn our keep, as you put it," the jet-black slave said.
"Slaves that don't invariably end up being sold off to as draft slaves or,
worse yet, to the mines.  Myself, I'd rather be fucked senseless round the
clock than end in pulling a cart like some donkey down in the mines."

"Yeah," the coffee-colored slave added. "We're just lucky we're good
looking and well-hung.  Otherwise, we'd end up like the vast majority of
slaves - working under a steady whip until you drop, then whipped even
harder until you get up and start straining every muscle in your body.
That's the life of most slaves.  We're the pampered ones because we're
unusually good looking, well hung, and have well-built bodies on us.  All
we have to do is keep our bodies in great shape, keep our good looks
intact, use every skill we've learned to please our owners when they want
to use our bodies, and make sure we're sexy and inviting as all get out
every time they even glance at us.  To me, whoring beats the alternatives
no matter how you look at it.  We're just lucky."

The jet-black slave responded. "I was in the mines before a overseer took a
fancy to me and started bedding me down which led to my eventual sale to
the SERVUS.  Believe you me, after a week down there, I prayed to God
someone would let me be a whore.  Now that I am, at least here on the
SERVUS, I hope that's what I get sold for - whoring.  I don't ever want to
go back to regular slaving - no way!"

"I'm with you," the yellow-skinned slave added.  "If we play our cards
right, that's what we'll get sold for at Kadivaa.  We'll need to get our
bodies all polished with oil and then, at every opportunity, show off
everything we've got to potential buyers.  That means being hard all the
time to show them how eager we are, flashing some mighty sexy smiles every
chance we get, and inviting them to use us by thrusting our manhood right
in the palms of their hands whenever we can within the limits of our
chains, of course. And if they ask you to bend over and show them your ass,
make sure they know you're tickled to death to do so, and make sure they
see all of your nice clean hole, all wiggling and inviting with lube oozing
out of it.  If they fuck you or ask you to suck them off as a little
demonstration of your talent, you guarantee it's the best fuck they ever
had in their life.  That's the way to bring top bids on the auction block
and find a good home."

"We must be good to fuck or the officers wouldn't keep coming for us," the
coffee-colored slave thought aloud.  "After all, they can choose from
hundreds and hundreds who they want for their beds every night.  And they
end up choosing us a good dead of the time.  That should tell us something
- we must be good whores if they're any connoisseurs of black flesh."

"Maybe the buyers at Kadivaa prefer white slaves," the jet-black slave
worried.

"No, my former master said Kadivaa specializes in black slaves.  He said
that's what the buyers preferred there."

"Good!  I was afraid my black skin might lower my value - despite my many
other attributes," the jet-black slave laughed, lifting up his huge sexual
apparatus to make his point.

				   *****

The market at Kadivaa was exactly as the three black slaves has speculated.
It was huge; it featured primarily black slaves of all types and varieties;
and it tended to offer only the top-of-the-line slaves with magnificent
well-built bodies, youthful good looks, prodigious equipment, and
completely trained for meeting any and all needs of their future owners.

Bruce and Xarife were each chained to separate display podiums in a vast
outdoor bazaar where at least 1000 other slaves from the SERVUS were
similarly displayed.  Each was completely body shaved and glistened from
the heavy scented oil smeared over their naked bodies. Each was chained by
their ankle manacles to the stand itself, forcing their legs a reasonable
distance apart and each was holding the standard slave display position:
arms in back of their neck, muscles flexed, and pelvis thrust forward with
their penises stiff and dripping.  Their legs were at least 18" apart so
that their sexual organs hung down freely between their legs and were
easily accessible, especially so since the podiums they stood on placed
their genitals at the right height for easy inspection.  If a buyer was
seriously interested, he motioned to a nearby attendant who unlocked the
slave's ankle manacles so the potential purchase could hop down to floor
level.  There, the buyer could check out his teeth, run his hand through
the slave's hair, check out the slave's facial skin smoothness, and kneed
the slave's tits until they grew to full size.  If his interest continued,
the buyer was invited to test out the slave's reaction to serious tit
squeezing, having the slave kneel so as to give a trial suck to the
potential new owner, or bend over to display his hole, and if interest
continued, to fuck the slave on the spot to test out tightness and anal
muscle response while the slave remained in his bent-over position.

Everywhere one looked in the vast bazaar, all you could see were row after
row of display podiums festooned with shiny black totally naked muscular
bodies, the colorful robes and drab business suits of potential purchasers,
and slave handlers eagerly pointing out the best features of the slaves
being offered for sale that day.  At ground level, other naked slaves were
bent over being fucked (either by a potential purchaser or by a slave
handler as a demonstration), or were posed upright as their mouths were
probed, teeth counted, skin assessed, or biting their lips as their tits
were fondled and squeezed, their balls hefted and kneaded, or their swollen
erect pricks stroked to a full eruption.  In this last instance, most of
the handlers had little paper cups available so the full output could be
measured, sniffed to ascertain its natural smell, tested for thickness and
consistency, and finally, savored for its taste. Still other slaves were
almost out of sight, now on their knees with their mouths stuffed full as a
shaft pumped in and out of their stretched lips.

Some offerings, primarily those with exceptional appeal for fucking, were
placed on the podiums on their hands and knees, their feet spread wide
apart so that their genitals hung freely between their legs and were easily
accessible along with their anal opening, winking at the buyers between the
spread ass cheeks.  Most had their ankles and wrists manacled to the edge
of the podium to assure this appealing posture was maintained throughout
the day, regardless of how much the slave's balls were squeezed by unknown
hands, their shafts stroked to study their output, or fingers and handy
dildos were inserted in their open (and certainly available) ass
chutes. Indeed, racks of various sized lubricated dildos were usually
installed on the sides of the display podiums for that various
purpose. Slaves displayed in this fashion had a long day on their hands and
knees: hardly anyone passed by without at least a quick squeeze of a
slave's balls; many ran their hands over the slave's broad back and ass
cheeks before settling in on fondling the slave's tits and prick to test
for sexual reaction; and, of course, the slave's holes (both front and
back) had fingers, huge dildos, fists, and buyer's pricks in and out of
them throughout the day as buyers looked them over more thoroughly.  After
being displayed in this fashion, most slaves were in agony from being on
their hands and knees so long without relief; had chafed and swollen pricks
and tits from so much handling; and had ass holes sore and bleeding from
the endless insertions, stretching, and friction as buyer after buyer
personally evaluated how the slaves under consideration reacted to being
fucked.

The costliest slaves, those both exceptionally handsome with well muscled
physiques and appealing manhood as well as trained to perfection were
generally not restrained since they were generally the most eager to be
sold and it was felt chains would only detract from their appearance.
Instead, they were displayed showing every aspect of their bodies laying
out on tables, sitting in divans invitingly, or assuming poses of their own
invention to best show off their wares.  This group of select slaves were
seductive and certainly sexy, doing anything possible to attract an owner
who would value and treasure them, knowing full well their body was their
only real sellable asset.  Slaves of this price were generally displayed to
others at every opportunity as a symbol of status and wealth, were
frequently loaned out to favored friends and relatives, and generally were
summoned to their master's or mistress' beds nightly.  They were usually
too expensive to be mere brothel slaves, available for anyone's use with a
few shekels in their pocket, but the usage of their bodies was no less
strenuous. By this stage of their training, they expected nothing less and
felt themselves most fortunate to be blessed with a beautiful body that was
their ticket out of a slave's common lot - backbreaking, exhausting work
day in-day out in the secret out-of-the-way mines or on the plantations or
building roads or a thousand other tasks freemen delegated to slaves once
they were available and their existence could be carefully hidden.  Before
the day was over, this group of slaves too was frequently "tried out" -
after the most minute bodily examinations, almost all of them could expect
to be bent over being fucked; on their knees sucking; or being commanded to
milk themselves.  Buyers here at Kadivaa would not be expected to buy "a
pig in a poke" and "trying a slave out" for themselves was considered a
normal part of the marketing process, a process invariably urged on even
the most remotely interested potential buyer by the aggressive slave
dealers.  The merchants fully understood it was harder to say "no" once you
had "opened the bottle" as they put it.

As the day progressed, more and more of the slave offerings, not just the
expensive unrestrained ones draped over tables, chairs, and divans, sported
dried-up cum on their bodies as the little paper cups didn't catch all that
had been milked out of them, had cum dribbling out of their mouths if they
had recently been mouth-fucked by a potential owner, and most had cum
dripping out of their asshole and down their leg as a result of some
demonstration of their ability to take a good fucking. The dried cum was
hard to hide on their shiny black hides.  Despite everything that was done
to their bodies, the slaves had been trained well enough to remember to
keep smiling, no matter how ugly the buyer, no matter how much their body
had been stroked, massaged, rammed, and fondled, no matter how tired they
were getting from the strain of constantly holding themselves in proper
display position.

Although a few of the slaves were purchased outright prior to the public
auction, these were primarily sales where money was no object and the
purchaser was determined to pay an outrageous price just to guarantee he
would end up owning the body under examination.  Slaves purchased this way
were usually destined to end up in fabulous estates where high walls and
carefully nurtured vegetation kept outsiders at bay and where the slave
would find himself in the company of many slaves, all just as beautiful and
well built as he was.  Pre-auction purchasers generally were unbelievably
wealthy and could afford any thing they desired.  Their 16 to 19 year-old
slaves were near perfect in all respects and were for ostentatious display
as much as anything, although they would be sexually used several times
each and every day - if not by their owner, then by their owner's family
members, the numerous guests, and corporate "friends" who expected loan of
the magnificent harem members as part of doing business.

Unfortunately, by the time they were 30 or so, they would find themselves
right back here at the Kadivaa market, traded in on the fresh 17 to 19 year
olds that such rich owners preferred.  By then, their skin would be
coarser, their tits stretched to three times normal size, and their balls
often milked near dry.  Their ass holes were sometimes loose and flabby
despite all the exercises designed to retard this development, and it was
hard for them to sustain full erections all of the time as they had when
first purchased.  Such older slaves were evident even at today's market,
crowded with the huge unloading of the SERVUS's cargo.  Although their
physiques were still outstanding (due to the constant enforced exercises)
and their eagerness to be of service to any and all seemed unabated, their
pricks were now semi-erect, their balls hung down markedly (all the
handling had stretched the ball sac), and their handsome faces were losing
their youthful appeal. Still, for the bargain hunter, they were a good buy
as a bed buck: well-trained, very experienced, and with many a year left in
them if you didn't demand the very best. But the Kadivaa market offered so
many that day that were young and appealing, the "used" slaves simply
weren't competitive on the open market and mainly found themselves sold off
as draft slaves, labor slaves for the plantations, or fodder for the
mines. When these slaves gradually realized their glory days as pleasure
slaves was now over and that they would have to earn their keep in more
traditional ways, tears of regret and reality streamed down their cheeks as
they desperately thrust their large organs out at potential buyers, trying
one last time to sell their bodily asset. Occasionally, it worked and a
buyer would snap them up, usually an older buyer less discerning as to what
warned his bed at night.  But more often than not, their pleas and
entreaties went unheeded, and they were knocked down in lots of 20 or more
to buying agents stocking plantations, the mines, or building contractors -
all destinies involving a heavy whip on their backs and rumps, exhausting
work from sunrise to sundown, slave chow measured to insure they were
constantly hungry, and, almost invariably, denied any sexual outlets
whatsoever in that it was felt such activities drained energy away from the
slave's labor potential.  Most would spend the rest of their lives in
chains, their unshaven body filthy and unwashed, their penis infilbrated so
even an erection was too painful to maintain, and with their hide more whip
scars than skin.

There was even a "bargain hunters" section of the huge slave bazaar -
traditionally the southwest corner of the bazaar was reserved for slaves
who weren't handsome, who were just average or below in sexual equipment,
whose bodies weren't characterized by strong musculature, who weren't
"cute" or "sexy" by anyone's standards, those well beyond their peak, and
those who were practically worn out from overwork, prolonged neglect,
advanced age, or, most often, overused.  Here a careful buyer could find
real bargains.  It was the section most middle-class people headed toward
first who didn't have the means to buy the most attractive slaves but who
could find, with careful selection, a slave who had a lot of work left in
his bones and was still quite fuckable.  Young people and the poor also
headed for this section for purchase of a "starter slave" - a slave cheap
enough to afford with limited means, but who could be traded in as soon as
the purchaser's luck increased or his or her career took off.  Most
"starter slaves" ended up doing all the house cleaning, laundry, yard work,
cooking, and cleaning the car during the day. At night, they faithfully met
their owner's needs in bed, trying to grab a little sleep in between
satisfying their new mistress or master.  Such slaves were always extremely
well motivated for if they could prove themselves in this role, they were
practically guaranteed to be fed and have a roof over their head until the
inevitable day when they were of no use to anybody and they were herded off
to the rendering plants - a slave's final resting place if you could call
being recycled into sellable body parts and processed animal food a
"resting place."

Three slaves in the "bargain corner" were even now being carefully checked
out by two rather poor adolescent Arab boys who planned to pool their
meager resources to buy a slave they could share in bed between them.  Each
of the eager youths were taking turns jamming their fingers up the three
brown-hued slaves' well-used holes and finger fucking them to test
reaction.  The youths quickly settled on one of the three slaves, a black
well into his 40s, and decided to test him more thoroughly, ordering him to
bend over once again and brace himself for a deep penetrating fuck to
ascertain "fit."  For the remaining two slightly younger slaves, a matronly
widow of 55 was patiently waiting her turn to inspect them, obviously
looking for a stud to fill her empty bed and help with chores around the
house that would be affordable within her limited income Behind her in line
were two 40-year-old Beduoin brothers, obviously poor judging by their
ragged clothing, who, like the Arab teenagers, planned to pool their
resources to buy a slave that they could lease out for hard labor during
the day for some extra income and still keep them drained and happy as a
bed buck when he wasn't contracted out.

Bruce and Xarife, as well as the three black slaves caged next to them
onboard the SERVUS, were all in the bloom of their youth and, as such, were
expected to draw top dollar at auction.  Two of the blacks were already
gone, purchased pre-auction by wealthy devotees of black flesh.  The jet-
black with the huge prick was already onboard a private jet laying flat on
his back with his legs clamped around his user's body as his new owner
drilled into the slave's hole vigorously while simultaneously sucking on
the black slave's tits.  In the next few hours, he would be fucked
repeatedly until the jet landed on the airstrip of his new master's private
estate. There, he would join a harem of four others, varying in skin hues
from light tan to cocoa to, now, jet black. All five would be exercised
four hours a day under the whip to assure their physiques stayed in peak
condition and that their musculature took on even greater definition for
their master's pleasure.  The rest of the time, day and night, they were
available for use by their new owner, his twelve sons, and his numerous
guests who were always given full hospitality of everything at the estate,
especially the slave properties.  The slave's new owner explained the life
ahead of him as he fucked his new property onboard the jet.

"You'll probably be fucked no less than five or six times a day," his new
master explained as he plunged his prick as far as it would go up the
slave's hole.  "So you'll need to douche and lube after every usage so
you're always fresh and ready to go.  You are forbidden to shoot off
without my express permission or unless one of my relatives or guests
orders you to do so.  That way, you'll always be ready for usage and
interested in pleasing your user to the very best of your ability which is,
of course, a slave's obligation.  When you're not being fucked, you'll get
a lot of mouth action, so be sure your sucking skills are kept honed and
totally pleasing at all times.  You'll be expected, of course, to always
swallow all of donor's cream pumped into your mouth and, if you spill even
one drop, you'll be severely punished.  After you service anyone, either up
your hole or down your throat, you shall clean their tool thoroughly the
minute they are finished with you."  He paused briefly as he arched his
back, thrust his organ even further into the slave's hole, and shot load
after load well up the slave's asschute.  When he gathered his breath back,
he began to withdraw his huge organ from the slave's dripping hole for the
expected "cleansing" as he continued his explanation of the stunningly
handsome slave's new life.  "Occasionally, one of my wives may wish to use
you with my permission or one of my female guests.  They generally want
oral servicing or some studding to their exact specifications.  You may not
shoot off without being expressly commanded to do so while servicing the
women so that your endurance in meeting their demands is not hampered in
any way and you must remember to always do whatever they indicate to the
smallest detail since women are particular in what they want from a slave
stud. Any offspring of such dalliance would be, of course, a slave
themselves and will be raised for market right on the estate."  Again the
slave's new owner paused as the black slave licked his shaft and balls
completely clean, swallowing the last remnant of cum, and then humbly
thanked his owner for his usage.  "That reminds me of one last duty, slave.
You'll be put to stud with the woman slaves whenever they popped their
latest pup and are ready to breed again or are being put to brood for the
first time.  You'll be used when we're desirous of producing some pure
black pups for market if you're put to a black woman slave or perhaps a
lighter shade brown slave by having you stud a mulatto female slave. You're
offspring should be as good looking and well equipped as you are if we
match you with a good receptacle for your seed. We've been in the breeding
business long enough to be able to market around 100 18-year-olds a year
now - all top quality animals and all bringing in top bids at the Kadivaa
auctions. That's where," he chucked as he pulled his robe down once again
and ordered the slave to stand up and display himself, "a good deal of the
money to buy jet planes and handsome well hung boys like yourself comes
from."

"Yes, master," the jet black said as he again put his muscular arms in back
of his thick neck, tightened his butt muscles, and thrust his pelvis out
for convenient handling of his huge sex.  He felt his master's cum leaking
out of his hole and running down his legs, a familiar feeling to any slave
half way attractive. The lingering taste in his mouth and throat reminded
him of how tasty his master's cum was as, once again, his balls were hefted
and weighed.

"Still nice and full," his master commended, obviously pleased as he
churned the slave's balls in his hands.

"Yes, master," the slave responded as he thrust his organs even further
into his master's hands as a sign of his complete ownership by this new
master.

The other slave bought before the auction was the cocoa brown boy with the
body that looked sculptured in its absolute perfection. Up until now, he
had been named "Brown Beauty," but was nameless again until his new owner
granted his new property a name to his own choosing, the right of every
master. He had been immediately subject to four complete enemas, another
body shaving, and a complete oiling of his skin before being jammed into a
small shipping cage which was placed in the back of a large cargo truck
along with 18 other cages, all filled with bodies just as beautiful as his
own, but each a different color. A few cages contained blonds with blue
eyes and suntanned white skins, a few others held yellow-tinted Asians, one
held a flaming red headed boy with milk white skin, but the bulk of the
cages held blacks of one hue or another - everything from jet black to
creamy light browns with light brown hair.  All of the cage's occupants had
four things in common: (1) they were property now and forever; (2) they
were all exceptionally attractive in both body and facial features; (3)
they all possessed prodigious sexual organs; and (4) they were all
rigorously trained to please even the most fastidious sexually and
otherwise.

These traits were all necessary for where they were headed. A mere four
hours away was a huge totally secret, ultra-luxurious resort catering to
international corporations that wanted to offer their very best customers
and corporate supporters a unique, but discrete, experience. Periodically,
the resort needed restocking and the 18 caged on the truck were this year's
fresh stock.  The resort featured 2800 acres of carefully tended golf
courses, swimming pools, tennis courts, the finest gymnasium equipment,
sailing boats, yachting docks, and a selection of the finest
restaurants. But those facilities, fine as they were, could be found in
many places throughout the world. What made this resort uniquely appealing
was its staff: slaves of the finest caliber, handpicked from the world's
markets, trained to perfection, and totally available to any guest at any
time.  Although often assigned "other" duties, such as being a waiter, a
lawn boy, a pool boy, a deck hand, a luggage porter, a valet, a chauffeur,
etc., their beautiful nude bodies were always available for sexual use by
the guests despite what other "duty" they may be assigned to at the moment.
Initial training would be quick: familiarization with waiting, portering,
gardening, etc., but their main duty was and would always be offering their
bodies for the enjoyment of the resort's guests - in other words, serving
as resident whores. That training, for all of them, was already complete or
they simply wouldn't have been purchased by the resort.  No slave caged in
the truck expected anything less out of a new owner, whoever it was.

The brown beauty was no different and, as the truck loader (a slave himself
judging from his collared nude body) explained their destination to the
caged slaves, he quickly became fully erect in anticipation.  He, like all
the others cramped into the little cages, expected nothing else from their
future lives and, as a result of their extensive training, had learned to
enjoy being admired, fondled, stroked, milked, and fucked over the past few
months.  They now thought of themselves as whores and took pride in their
new vocation.  Any shame or humiliation from having their bodily charms
exploited in this fashion was long extinct and had been replaced with an
ebullience and pride shared by all the other properties headed for their
common whoredom.  His prick began dripping in anticipation of offering his
body to the resort's exclusive clients.  As a slave, he intrinsically knew
that as long as he pleased the client's choosing his body, he would be well
taken care of, safe from the vagrancies of the slave markets and their
auctions where you were never sure where you would end up.  He breathed a
huge sigh of relief at his good fortune, a relief evident in the other
caged slaves as they smiled at the truck driver/loader as well as winked to
each other.

"You slaveboys are going to get some heavy use," the driver/loader, warned
them as he fastened the last cages securely in the truck. "Some boys get
fucked 10 to 12 times a day in addition to sucking some big ones.  And some
of the resort's guests liked to be fucked themselves, while others like a
big pair of tits or a nicely stuffed pair of balls to play with better than
anything.  But you get used to it, I can tell you, and I never heard any
slave complain - the whip and electric prods are too close for anything
like that - but still, most slaveboys at the resort seem to settle in fast.
I know I did - actually enjoyed it after a while. Don't give me those
looks, you whores!  Ten years ago I was every bit as good looking and
appealing as any one of you slaves and could offer up a good fuck with the
best of them at the resort.  But time takes its toll, and that's where the
resort is really great!  If you've been a damn good whore, they tend to
find other jobs for you as your body begins to lose its appeal a little.
Me - I've been a supply driver for about three years now and I've got a
home as long as I work really hard and don't cause any trouble.  What more
can a slave ask for, I ask you? Of course, all we get to do anymore is fuck
the older 'retired' staff like ourselves occasionally when we get a chance,
but compared to other slaves our age? Mighty lucky, we are, I'm sure you'll
agree if you know anything at all about slavedom."

All the caged slaves murmured their ascent with some rubbing their huge
erect organs against the bars of their cages.

"Here, here!  None of that.  It's alright to show your excitement, but
don't any of you shoot off without permission, you hear?"

Those slaves not muted all said "yes, sir" softly in acknowledgment of the
fellow slave's temporary authority over them and carefully made sure their
rampant quivering pricks did not touch the bars of their cages, hopefully
diverting any uncalled for eruptions while in transit.

The former "Brown Beauty," who had been caged on the SERVUS next to Bruce
and Xarife, salivated as he looked at the near perfect bodies all around
him and groaned inwardly as his balls, drained by prospective purchasers
just hours ago, once again made their presence felt by swelling bigger and
bigger in his need which seemed omnipresent since becoming a slave trained
to pleasure others. His eyes blurred with lust as he thought of the years
and years of whoredom ahead of him.  His main task was to please others -
that he knew - but he also knew he would get pleasure himself at times from
his work.  It was a future he cherished and was, as he had frequently
thought over the past few years of slavery, his destiny!  Why else had God
given him a body like this and revealed to him the pure joy of serving
others?

The remaining black, caged on the SERVUS next to Bruce and Xarife, was
still with the two former slave handlers awaiting sale at auction. He gave
the two former slave handlers near to him the 'high sign' since they were
both muted now by orders from Captain McAfee himself.  They would never be
able to tell the world they had once been free workers on a rogue ship that
carted slaves all over the world.

This slave, very light-skinned for a black, was disappointed he had not had
a chance to say good bye to his two long time cage mates - they had been
caged together for well over three months now onboard the SERVUS and had
received most of their training as bed bucks together.  Their time together
was pleasant - it was good to have someone to share your reactions to the
training with, and, eventually, they had learned to enjoy each others
bodies after their use by the officers was over each night.  They hadn't
been together enough to really form strong friendships which was typical
for slaves in today's world, but they were friendly and accepting enough.
Slaves never really formed strong bonds with other slaves - that would be
foolish - because they had no control over their environment.  They could
be separated at any minute from "friends" by a quick sale, a whim of an
owner, etc.  Life as a slave was just a lot easier if you concentrated on
preserving your sellable assets, served your master the very best you could
to minimize pain and punishment, and tried to make yourself so desirable as
a slave you wouldn't risk yet another sale to an unknown future.  To a
slave, the present was always safer than the future, although, with a harsh
master, the future under someone else's ownership sometimes was perceived
optimistically.

The three slaves were lined up next to each other awaiting their time on
the auction block.  The light-skinned black was called up first, the 115th
slave to be auctioned off that day.  As he presented his body to the buyers
as he'd been trained (remembering to assume a full display position as he
slowly turned his body so all buyers could view all sides of him, always
with a full dripping erection to show his potential sexually), the
auctioneer speedily pointed out his age, background, training, and
experience along with any special characteristics that might set him off
from the other slaves being offered that day.

"A bright colored black boy only 18, fresh from an Algerian breeding farm
that specializes in mulattos and quadroons.  Trained from birth to meet any
master's expectations, you can see for yourself he's well muscled and very
good looking.  Disease free, he can keep that huge prick hard all day if
you so desire (using his whip handle to lift the slave's penis for full
display), and no matter how much you use this boy, he can be up and running
for another bout in just minutes. Probably that black blood in him," the
auctioneer laughed. "Fucking this boy is like a visit to paradise, and he's
been taught to milk his user so you don't have to do all the work if you
want," he chuckled as he motioned for the slave to turn around, bend over,
and spread his ass cheeks.  Instantly, the auctioneer inserted the whip
handle up the slave's well lubricated hole a good 6 or 7" as the slave
gasped but never moved as the whip handle moved in and out of his hole as a
demonstration.  "You like this boy?" the auctioneer asked routinely as he
fucked the slave with the whip handle.

"Yes, master," the slave gasped out, remembering to turn his face as he
replied and smiled broadly at the audience - a response practiced over and
over in his specific training for being on the auction block.

When his anal skills had been quickly demonstrated, he was again ordered to
a full standing display position with his hands in back of his neck and
with his pelvis thrust forward to best display his fully aroused sexual
equipment. The bidding commenced and within two minutes his price had
escalated into a small fortune and he was sold to a American businessman
looking for an attractive and totally obedient houseboy he could show off
to his friends and who would meet all of his needs whenever he
wanted. Within two hours the newly purchased slave was in an airport hotel
flat on his back being vigorously fucked by his new owner; within four
hours he was wearing clothes for the first time in months and was onboard a
commercial jet heading for New York City sitting next to his new master who
played with his prick the entire trip when the lights were turned
down. Within 36 hours, the slave was again stark naked wearing only his
collar and genital ring and was again offering the delights of his body -
this time to several of his new owner's business clients who expected
nothing less than the slave's usage as part of "doing business" with his
master. His new life as a New York houseboy had begun and there was a
familiar touch to it: he was very much a property of his new master; he
was, and could expect to be in the future, totally naked save for his
collar; and his body was used according to his master's whim at any and all
times.

Next on the block was Xarife.  His tawny brown skin had been fleshly oiled
for the bidding and glowed under the strong lights focused on the auction
block itself.  Despite several milkings he had received while on display,
his shaft was again rock hard and dripping.  Like the black before him, he
was eventually ordered to bend over and display his hole whereupon the
auctioneer predictability "fucked" him with his whip handle to demonstrate
his good training and willingness to please a new owner.  Within five
minutes, the bids reached a crescendo and Xarife had a new owner: a
Columbian drug lord who was looking for a middle eastern beauty to add a
little variety to his "zoo" of four other beautiful male slaves he already
kept caged in his mountain retreat - always kept completely body shaved,
oiled, douched, lubed, and ready to be used by their owner, his seven sons,
or the numerous underlings who got to pick out a "animal" as a reward for
their loyalty.  Buy the drug lord had other plans in mind for his little
menagerie in the near future.  On a remote corner of his estate, he was
quietly buying up scores of young female slaves whose sole purpose would be
as breeding stock.  Xarife and the four other zoo animals would soon be
making trips to that remote corner almost daily until all the female slaves
were in full foal with the next generation of slaves - slaves he wouldn't
have to buy at exorbitant prices and so many of them eventually that he
would be selling, not buying, this new commodity where profits rivaled the
drug trade.  Besides, Xarife's new master mused as his new purchase was
delivered to his side, leashed by his genital ring, it would be fun for he
and his sons to watch the forced breedings - after all, the zoo animals
were exciting to look at, especially when they were in full action. Xarife
risked looking back at the auction block where he knew Bruce would be next
in place to take one last look at his close friend, but a quick jerk on his
leash made him gasp as his balls were squeezed and he was quickly led out
of the bazaar and into a small delivery van where a transit cage awaited
him.  He wouldn't leave that cage until he was unloaded in the mountains of
Columbia where all of the villa's occupants fondled and stroked every part
of the new stud's body in their initial admiration of the drug lord's
purchase. Now muted, he would never see Bruce or any member of his family
again or be able to tell anyone he once worked on a slave ship.

Bruce was indeed next on the block now that the cramps and aches of being
displayed so long on his hands and knees had worn off.  As his muscular
body and ample equipment was fully displayed, Bruce's background and
experience as a SERVUS crew member was explained, along with the fact that
the SERVUS' distinguished captain was the slave's uncle.

"Yes, ladies and gentlemen, our own renowned Capt. McAfee, who supplied a
good number of the slaves being auctioned off today, was the uncle of a
free SERVUS crewman who, due to his own financial follies, stands before
you now as a slave himself - he wh once whipped the slaves into shape is
now the slave whipped into shape," he chucked as he snapped his whip across
Bruce's rump for emphasis. "Life has its ironies," he mused as he lifted
Bruce's balls with a loop of his whip.  "This white boy here and his dusky
friend that we just sold to the Columbian gentleman bought a slave for
their own use with no means of paying for the slave.  Let's hope none of
you make such a mistake.  The good Captain, of course, had both of them
instantly enslaved themselves to pay for their debt.  I'm sure you're happy
to hear the punishment for bad debts is the same all over the world."

The crowd roared their approval.

"But this light skinned beauty knows all about slavery.  As a crewman
abroad the SERVUS, he was the overseer of the slave handlers and, as such,
knows exactly what is expected of a well trained slave.  He, along with
several other crew, was responsible for slave training abroad the SERVUS
the Captain tells me, and, as such, has responded well to his own training
once the tables were turned.  The Captain assures me he is instantly
responsive to a master's demands and understands his body is for the use of
others.  In fact, the Captain told me, the Captain himself and all of his
officers have enjoyed this slave in their own bed many a time and all found
him most satisfactory, including, of course," and the auctioneer twirled
Bruce around the quietly order him to show the audience his hole by bending
over and spreading his legs far apart, "this well trained hole," as Bruce
felt the thick handle of the auctioneer's leather whip handle forced well
up his chute.

"Uh, uh..." Bruce gasped as the handle pumped in and out of his chute,
about the only sound he could make anymore now that his vocal chords had
been snipped.

"See, the slave is beautifully trained," the auctioneer concluded as he
removed the handle and once again twirled the slave around to face the
audience in full display position.

The bidding commenced immediately and the sale was completed within four
minutes.  Bruce was sold to a black tribal overlord living near the
Saudi-Yemen border who had long coveted having a white slave at his
disposal.  Bruce's new black owner knew he would be the envy of all those
under his military rule and having a beautiful naked white "display" slave
by his side at all times would add immeasurably to his status and prestige,
especially when it was made obvious that the white slave served his master
in bed as well.

As Bruce was led by his neck collar over to his new black master,
Capt. McAfee suddenly appeared at his side.  Congratulating the black
overlord on his new purchase, he turned to Bruce.

"Serve your new master well, Bruce," he instructed as he ran his hand down
Bruce's butt checks and inserted a long finger up his well greased chute as
sort of a good bye gesture.  "I've informed by brother of your tragic death
from a storm at sea so you can start your new life as a slave without
having them worry about you anymore.  You'll be happy your father thanked
me for my care and concern," he reported without emotion as his finger
massaged the slave's prostate causing Bruce to moan in frustration.  "I've
known your new master for a number of years now, Bruce, having purchased
many slaves from him that he had either tired of or were given to him as
part of his tax levy over the villages in his area.  You'll find him a
demanding master who will brook no nonsense from slaves, but he will offer
you a life where you will be fed and housed and that is predictable as long
as you do exactly as you are told.  What more could a slave want from a
master?" he asked rhetorically.

Turning to the black master, the Captain said, "Your new slave was my
nephew until he enslaved for his fiscal irresponsibility and at one time
worked on the SERVUS as a free crewman under my tutelage and, of course,
served as my slave on the SERVUS as well.  As a slave, I and most of my
officers have found him to be most cooperative and an absolute delight in
offering his body to us for our pleasure. He's been silenced, of course, so
he is unable to relate his wild stores to any of your subjects.  I hope you
find the slave as satisfactory in your bed as I did in mine."

"Perhaps it's the McAfee blood running in his veins that makes him so
satisfactory as a slave," the black master answered. "They say family is
always best."

"Well, the slave is yours now, my friend," Capt. McAfee laughed as he
withdrew his finger from the slave's hole and wiped it off in the slave's
hair.  "When you bed him down, think of me!"

"I will, Captain.  I will.  But, be not offended, the slave is considerably
more attractive than I imagine you ever were," he laughed.

"I'm sure everyone in the bazaar here would agree with you on that
observation," Capt.  McAfee chuckled as he quickly left, eager to see how
the remaining commodities were selling. Bruce knew he would never see the
Captain, his former uncle, again..

Bruce never had any more clothes than when he was stark naked at the
auction's sales block.  From that day on, he was constantly paraded around
his master's territory attired only with a thick genital ring to best
display his sexual equipment, a tall confiding slave collar around his
neck, and with both tits sporting large brass 3" rings.  His body was
shaved daily for absolute smoothness and his white skin was protected by
lotions from the searing sun common in that part of the world since his
"whiteness" was part of his unique appeal. Since he was seldom allowed to
empty his balls, he was usually hard and dripping in need at all times - a
trait his master demanded of all his slaves. His black master, a huge
muscular man in his early thirties, had strong needs himself.  Bruce sucked
his master off each and every morning the minute his black master awoke,
was generally fucked thoroughly before lunch by the black's huge organ,
again in late afternoon after Bruce had lubricated his shaft with an
afternoon suck, and then again at night when his lusty black master wanted
to relax.  In between, he found himself on his knees sucking those his
master designated: courtiers, political allies, and military commanders for
the main part.  Bruce never had any private time: he was either displayed
to others or servicing others at all waking moments.  He was, indeed, a
true slave.

				   *****

Capt. McAtee took receipt of the huge amount of money the slaves in the
SERVUS' hold had brought at the day's auction.  It had been a most
successful sale and he had been right in assuming the Red Sea port city was
eager for appealing muscular black slaves in the prime of their youth. The
per slave sales price was considerably above what he expected and he knew
his backers in the SERVUS enterprise would be pleased.

"What's your next port?" the manager of the slave bazaar asked.

"The SERVUS is headed for the big markets of Paraguay.  The mining
companies there are always in need of new stock and they prefer blacks for
the backbreaking work in the deep shafts there that simply consume slaves -
claim they hold up better than other types of slaves and they can get a
good four or five years out of them under a strong whip. That's why I
bought up hundreds of your rough draft slaves here by the lot - they're
cheap enough here and I know you're glad to get rid of stock like that
where they're too ugly or too old for the premiere markets of being bed
bucks."

"I didn't know the Paraguayan emerald mines used slaves," the manager said
casually.  "I suppose they could if they were remote enough and didn't have
too many people snooping around.  I could see where the mining companies
could use up the cheap goods you described buying.  I'd be surprised if
they could get five years out of them, though, even if they did fed them
well and had a really heavy bull whip on them most of the time. It'd take a
bull whip to keep them going in those mines, I hear, even if it does tear
up their hide to a mass of scars.  But, in the mines, who cares?"

"Exactly," the Captain said.  "Feeding them properly and making sure they
get enough to drink is the key to their success, they tell me."

"And then what, Captain?" the manager probed.

"Well, I'm going to buy up all the white slaves I can," the Captain said
with enthusiasm.  "There are loads of them available now in Paraguay if you
know the right people.  Mainly Argentine political prisoners, kidnaped
boys, criminals and street people the Argentine government wants to get rid
of for a good profit - working through Paraguay has long been a ploy to
escape detection in the slave trade.  And, of course, Paraguay itself has
its numerous black market sources - I don't know where they get them all,
but I've found them generally very good looking and well trained by the
time they're marketed. Even bought some bred boys down there recently, so
there are some breeding farms in Paraguay somewhere," he laughed.  "The
dealers there tell me I can count on a big increase in available slaves as
the bred slaves are just now beginning to be of marketable age."

"And where are all these pretty white slaves headed once they're all safely
caged on the SERVUS?" the agent laughed.

"Arabia primarily," Capt. McAfee laughed. "Seems like every sheik with two
dinars to rub together wants a least one white slaveboy nowadays. They'll
pay pretty if you can offer them young, good looking and well hung boys
that are fully trained to satisfy their new masters.  If those Paraguayan
slaves weren't fully trained when I buy them, they certainly will be after
the long voyage on the SERVUS to Arabia.  There's advantages in having a
slow boat sometimes," he added thoughtfully.

"And then?" the manager continued.

"Well, Europeans love olive-skinned Middle Eastern boys, and, with all the
tribal wars going on all the time, it's not hard to fill a ship with their
strays at a good profit - mainly Afghans, Pakistanis, Bangladeshis,
Palestinians, Kurds, and, recently more and more Israeli prisoners of war.
They market very well in the underground markets of Paris and Berlin and,
of course, London."

"I can see you have the next few months mapped out, Captain," the bazaar
manager chuckled.  "And it all shows remarkably profitable for the SERVUS."

"Yes, I'm reasonably certain it will be," the Captain said as he gathered
up the large leather case containing all the cash for the day's sale and
headed back to the SERVUS where, even now, hundreds and hundres of draft
slaves were being marched over the gangplanks into the deep holds where
their cages awaited them.  Draft slaves they may be, the Captain mused, but
he remembered buying a few that still would be entertaining in his bed
tonight. As soon as he got all the day's profits properly deposited and had
wired his entrepreneurial syndicate of backers of his (and their) success
in today's marketing, he would take a stroll through the cargo hold and see
if he could locate those likely bed bucks he had just purchased today.
Might as well use them up before they got wasted in the emerald mines of
Paraguay.


[Other stories by this author are posted on:
http://www.nifty.org/
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/SlaveNow/, and
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/slavefuture/.]