Date: Thu, 12 Jan 2012 07:29:08 -0800 (PST)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: Steve Buys A Slave, Part Seven

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

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

PART  SEVEN

To tell you the truth I'd rather have stayed at home and done some more
training of Reb - another session in the gym where I showed him he was
beatable (if I chose the rules) would do him good.  But I had to go and
post dad's letter, so I drove in and parked and went to the post office.

There was the usual long queue of slaves snaking out of the door, but the
counter reserved from freeman was nearly empty, only one guy being served,
as I suppose most people send their slaves to do posting and stuff like
that.  When I got closer though I saw that the guy at the counter was
wearing a slave collar - he'd flouted the rules.  "Out of my way, you
fucking slave", I shouted.  "Are you so stupid that you can't read the sign
that says this counter is reserved for free men, or did you think that for
some reason it did not apply to you?"

"Please, sir", he whined "I'm nearly done, and my master is waiting
and...."

"Fuck off!  If your owner wants quick service, tell him to come in himself,
as I'm doing."

The slave looked as if he was going to argue or say something again, so I
beckoned to the security guard, who came over.  "Have this slave removed",
I said.  "Free men should not have to wait."  The guard got his prod out,
and the slave got the message, and went out. "He's lucky, sir, that you
called me over - some men get so angry they get violent with slaves like
that!"

I was amazed at how expensive the special delivery was on dad's letter, but
the clerk explained that stuff to the Cayman Islands always attracted a
surcharge, so that was that.  Dad can afford it, after all.  As I was
leaving the post office who should be coming in but Jacob, the guard who'd
basically done all the work of selling Reb to me yesterday.  He was looking
very smart, in a well-cut polo shirt and chinos, and looked almost like a
fashion model he was so ruggedly handsome.  He saw me, smiled, then
stopped, as did I.

"So how's the slave going, sir?"

"Fine, Jacob... He's going to be tough to train, I think, but I can manage
it."

"My friends call me Jake.  Jacob's a bit ethnic I find, and tends to put
people who don't know me off, so I'm Jake when I'm not on duty.... Sir."

"I'm Steve", I said, sticking out my hand to shake, really rather pleased
that this guy had remembered me and now wanted to talk.  "Steven really,
but Steve to friends."

"Well good on you, Steve.  I rather thought yesterday that you were taking
on more than you could handle - there's a world of difference from all that
book learning you seem to have done and the practical aspects of slave
training and management.  So it's going well... He must have been a great
ride?"

"I didn't buy him as a pony", I replied, rather puzzled, as even if I did
intend to use Reb as a pony sometimes, it would be with a trap - I know
some owners to ride the shoulders of ponies, but there's no way I could
really do this as I'm quite a big guy and quite heavy.

Jake laughed.  "I meant how did it feel, when you mounted him..." He
lowered his voice and added "I didn't like to use the straightforward
'fuck' in a public place.  He struck me as a slave who wouldn't take kindly
to losing his cherry, and I expect you needed to chain him down?"

"I haven't fucked Reb".  I wanted to show Jake how broadminded I was by not
using euphemisms, to impress him.  But as I said this it occurred to me
that perhaps Jake knew that all owners fucked their slaves, so I was the
'odd man out' and I'd be like the one guy in the frat who didn't own a
slave - I'd never know I'd done something wrong as I had no practical
experience.  So, to show my good intentions, I added "....yet."

Jake looked a little worried.  "You and I need to talk a bit, Steve.  It's
a big mistake not to fuck a slave the moment you get him, especially one
like that Reb.  Quite apart from the fact that he's got an ass any man
would want to plunder, you're not being very fair to him...."

"Being fair?  To a slave? To fuck him?"

"Steve, you've got to remember that Reb was until recently free.  He was a
marine.  He was self-assured, confident, probably other guys in his unit -
especially the younger ones - respected him as a real man.  Then he was
enslaved, and in quick succession he was sold off, humiliated by having to
display his body to you, branded, tattooed with his SIN, had his pubes
clipped away... All to turn him into a 'proper' slave who understood his
new position. But inside he probably still thinks of himself as a 'man',
not a slave.  A wise owner wants to get him to totally accept that his
world has changed - it's obviously good for the owner who gets obedience
sooner, but it's good for the slave, too, who can start to lead his new
life properly instead of hankering after things he will never have again.
The best way of moving the slave on, especially one like Reb, is to fuck
him - he had a reputation a a cocksman, didn't he?  A man who was on top,
in control of
 the bitches?  Well, once his owner fucks him, and fucks him hard, he'll
begin to realise that it's his owner who now is on top - literally!"

"I didn't know.... They don't say that in the books...."

"Well I'd have thought it was obvious anyway, if you think about it.  How
does one man control another?"

"I don't know, Jake. I suppose my dad does it because he's a partner at his
law firm, and all the associates and paralegals and secretaries have to do
what he says, or they lose their jobs."

"Well that's not going to work for slaves, is it?  They can't lose their
jobs."

I nodded, and Jake smiled.  "Are you doing anything now?  Want to come for
a drink?  there's a bar around the corner I use all the time - and I'll
tell you more about slavery?"

"Aren't you at work?"

"Sure - but I work shifts, so I was around yesterday when you came into
good old S & D.  Today I'm on 'lates' and don't have to be there until
ten."

I was excited by the offer as the more of saw of Jake and the more I heard
of his sophisticated talk, the more I wanted to spend time with him.  I'd
never been in a bar before - its illegal until you're 21 in our state - so
going there would itself be a new experience.  "Great, thanks!", I told
him, and Jake slapped me on the back just as if I was an old buddy, which
made me feel really good, and we went out.

Jake led me two blocks off Main Street, and it looked a bit seedy, frankly,
and when he turned down an alley between two shabby buildings I was really
apprehensive, but Jake seemed to be totally confident, so I followed.  He
stopped at a heavy metal door, and pressed a bell.  This didn't look like
the sort of bar I'd seen dad in with his sophisticated clients, I must say!

The door opened and we went into a small entrance lobby, with a big,
heavily muscled guy wearing an athletic vest just as I had that morning -
and stretched as tight over his body as Reb's shorts had been - standing
behind a counter.

"Hi, Jake.", he said cheerfully, and I began to relax.  This wasn't the
sort of behaviour you'd get from a kidnapper, I thought - yes, I had been
worried about that, I can tell you: dad was always telling me to watch out,
as I could easily be a kidnap victim, held for a huge ransom from dad.

"Guest here", Jake responded, indicating me.  "I'd like to sign my buddy
Steve in."

I thrilled as I heard myself called that.  But then the guy looked at me
and asked "How old are you, son?"  So, OK, I know I looked a lot younger
than Jake who had that maturity you get when a guy is in his early
twenties, so now I had a problem.  Did I lie, and possibly get some further
questions that I couldn't answer, and would get caught out and look stupid?
So I muttered "I'll be eighteen, soon."

"Sorry, Jake.  You know the law!  No guests under 21."

Jake smiled and slipped the guy a couple of new dollars.  "Oh, sorry!  I
meant that I needed to bring my slave in, but forgot his collar.  Can you
help?"

The guy delved under the counter and brought out a standard leather slave
collar, and handed it to me.  I went to put it around my neck as I
understood what was going on - as a free man I couldn't enter until I was
21, but presumably a slave was acceptable at any time.

Jake gripped my wrist.  "No, Steve - a man should never put a slave collar
on himself."  As he said this, Jake took the collar and placed it around my
neck, then fiddled with the clasp until I heard it click.  We were standing
so close that I could feel the warmth of Jake's body and catch a faint
scent of his sweat.  His hands were warm against the skin of my neck.  I
could feel my dick starting to rise at the sheer maleness of Jake, and the
excitement of the situation.

"OK, shirt, please" the guy said, not at all in an unfriendly or
threatening way.  "At the club 'slaves' are always bare-chested."

I hesitated, until Jake said "It's OK, Steve - you'll get it back when you
head out.  You look a pretty fit guy, and I shouldn't think you're
embarrassed by your body, are you?"

It felt so strange to be talking like this, but I wanted to appear mature
and sophisticated to Jake, so I muttered "No, of course not."

Jake took a step towards me again, and to my astonishment reached down and
tugged my polo shirt up - he kept lifting it until almost as if by reflex I
raised my arms so he could slip it right up over my head.  I stood there
then and Jake muttered "That wasn't so bad, was it?  Don't you go to the
beach and places like that where good looking fit young guys go around
without shirts?"

He didn't give me chance to answer as he tossed my shirt to the guy, and
led me through the door leading out of the lobby into what must be the bar.

It was a proper bar, I suppose, as there was a long counter down one side
of the room with bottles and glasses behind it, and a couple of bartenders
- I supposed they must be real slaves, as they too were bare-chested.  The
opposite side of the room was divided into booths with leather seats across
tables, and Jake led me to one of these, and we sat down.  I looked around
and saw that all the other people in there were men - a lot in their
twenties, like Jake, but some looked as old as dad, or older.  They were
mostly free men, as I now assumed that at this place it was slaves who were
bare-chested, but they were in a variety of different clothes - a few
suits, a lot of those expensive casual things you see around, and some men
even in jeans and rough work shirts.  The lighting was dim, and the men
seemed to be standing quite close together, talking in low voices.

A waiter came up - a slave, as you'd expect, but a real one, not like me.
He was about my age, I thought, and he was naked except for a tiny
loincloth hung by a piece of thin rope around his waist.  He leaned over
with a damp cloth to wipe over our table, and as he did I saw his dick was
'skinned, and that he'd had all his pubes shaved off.  Jake saw me looking,
and told me "City ordinance - all slaves engaged in the preparation or
serving of food or drink must be shaved, to avoid the possibility of a hair
in the customer's food.  And you know about the city ordinance about nudity
in the city centre, from your experience yesterday - well, it's the same
with bars."

The slave was standing there quietly now, feet slightly apart, head bowed.
"Two large beers", Jake ordered, and the slave trotted off - he had a cute
butt, I noticed, with those dimples some guys have at the base of the
spine.  I didn't like to tell Jake I didn't drink beer, only the occasional
glass of wine with dinner - he'd probably think I was a wimp.

Jake sat back, looking totally relaxed.  He put his arm around my bare
shoulders and started talking, just as if it was the most natural thing in
the world for one guy to be sitting there with another half-naked one.
"So, Steve, a slave like Reb is likely to be a real handful, you know.
That's why no-one bought him before and the price was so low as it's only
somewhere like the mines that can use a slave like that.  What did your dad
think?"

"Uh?  Well, he liked Reb - they watched the soccer game together..."

"Steve, that's stupid!  Reb isn't part of the family, or some buddy of your
dad's.  He's a slave. If you don't treat him like one, he'll start to get
ideas that he's still free.  And that's what I was telling you earlier -
you need to fuck him, and fuck him hard: even if he gets to the point of
understanding intellectually that he's not a 'man' any longer, his body
needs to 'know' that.  Owners don't only fuck slaves for pleasure, you know
- they do it because they know that this is what is needed to confirm their
authority over the slave."

The cute young waiter placed beers in front of us, and Jake took a long
draught of his, and waited expectantly for me to do the same.  Then he
continued "It's the same with the cane and the whip - powerful physical
influences on the slave's body's deep understanding. Not so many owners get
pleasure from it and I only know a few guys who beat slaves for fun, but
the principle holds good."

"You mean I could whip and cane Reb, rather than fuck him...."

"Sure.  It takes longer to get the message over, and it's not so much fun.
But why would a virile young guy like you do that?  When I saw Reb
yesterday my dick wanted its time up his ass - we're not allowed to fuck
them on duty, of course - but if he'd still been in the pens last night I'd
have been there.  So as his owner, and you look to me like a guy who's
keenly interested in maters sexual...."

I took another big draught of beer to buy time to think.  I didn't want to
appear to be a wimp, but I wasn't used to the idea of talking to another
guy - especially a sophisticated, experienced one like Jake - about sex.
My dick was painful as it pressed against my shorts as I thought about
fucking, and to cover my confusion and to try to get out of the situation I
muttered "Sorry, but I've got to go and pee... I was pretty full already,
and the beer..."

"Over there...".  Jake indicated a door in the far corner, and took his arm
from around my shoulders.  I got up and made my way towards the door, and I
couldn't help noticing how a lot of the other guys in the bar stared at me
as I passed between them.  I wondered if this was how Reb felt as he saw me
watching him - but at least I'd got my shorts on and was not entirely
naked.

The rest room was as dimly lit as the rest of the place.  I made my way
over to the urinals and fumbled with my fly to get my dick out, but as I
did so two guys came in and stood at the next one - stood together!  I
couldn't help watching as they put their arms around each others shoulders
to hold themselves close, then both of them got out their dicks and began
pissing into the same stall!  Look, I know all of us have at some time or
other sneaked a peek at the dick of another guy standing next to you, but
only a very quick one so you hope he doesn't notice.  But these two guys
were staring at each others dicks as they pissed, and were even playing
little games - directing their streams of piss to merge together, and stuff
like that.  I quite forgot about my need to piss, and simply watched them
in fascination.

I could hardly believe it when as their streams dried to a dribble and then
stopped they each expressed the last few drops out of the others dick!
Fancy doing that totally intimate thing for another guy, and in a public
place!

Suddenly I realised they'd seen me, seen me staring at them.  They didn't
appear to be angry or anything, but broke their embrace and came and stood
either side of me.  One put his arm around my shoulders to hold me, and
said "So, boy, you like dick, do you?"

"I'm not a slave.... Let me go!"

"We saw you watching us, so it's our turn now, isn't it?  Start pissing!"

"Please, let me go!"  I was panicking now. There was no way I could start
to piss with them not only watching me but pressed so close.

"I reckon the slave boy needs a bit of help, don't you?" I felt the grip
around my shoulders tighten, and the next moment the guy who was not
holding me bent down slightly and pulled my shorts down.  I felt them pool
around my ankles.

"Nice underwear", the other commented.  "His owner clearly likes a bit of
titillation when he strips... But I don't think it's proper for a slave boy
to wear stuff like this...."  I felt my boxers being pulled and then fall
to the floor, so now I as totally naked.  The rough wool and harsh denim of
the guy's work shirts and cheap jeans were scratching my body.

"Stop it!  I'm not a slave!  You can't do this to me!  I'm a guest here,
Jake brought me..."

The men laughed.  "Typical Jake.  Lures some nice boy in here, then doesn't
take proper care of him.  I reckon we ought to do Jake a favour and help
his boy out, don't you?"  As he said this, a hand went around my dick and
balls, and another rested on my butt.  "OK, boy, nothing to be frightened
about - you needed to piss, so just let it go...."

I couldn't.  I'd never had a hand on my dick before, never had to do
anything like this with other people watching.  "No, please.... Please, I
can't... Please, fetch Jake...."

The hand resting on my butt started to explore - squeezing my butt cheeks,
then probing down my crack with a finger.  I tried to fight them, wriggled
and squirmed, but it was no use - the guy holding my shoulders tightened
his grip, and the hand holding my dick dropped a little so that fingers
cupped under my balls.  "Stop this nonsense, boy" - the guy's voice sounded
more menacing now.  I didn't, though, and then to my relief the finger down
my crack was withdrawn - but then there was a slap as his hand hit my butt,
hard.  I cried out in pain and embarrassment.

"Now, boy, just do as you're told, like a good little slave boy.  Piss for
us, unless you'd like more punishment...."

I still couldn't.  You all know how it is - you can be desperate for a pee,
but if there's someone watching you, you simply can't.

"Now, boy, we're going to help you, then."  The voice was soft and low and
sort of reassuring, the guy's mouth pressed close to my ear.  "Don't be
stupid, don't try to fight it, or we'll have to slap that gorgeous butt of
yours again, and harder this time...."  As he said this the finger started
down my butt crack again.  I didn't know what to do.  I didn't want to get
hurt.  I knew I couldn't break away from the two guys.  As all these
thoughts were racing through my head my whole body jerked as the finger
found my pucker, and started to probe at it gently.  "Please, please, no,
no...." I cried out.

"I reckon he's a virgin", the guy told his companion.  "Very tight here,
very tight indeed.  We'd better not upset Jake, as the lucky bastard's
probably got plans for this asshole."  The other guy muttered agreement,
then added "But the boy needs to piss - and I want to watch. We still need
to help him...."

The finger moved on, then I felt it scratching gently, oh so gently, at
that sensitive area between my asshole and the back of my sac.  In spite of
my terror, anger, confusion, and shame I heard myself give a sigh.  The two
guys heard it, too, and the voice in my ear whispered "That's good, isn't
it?  Every guy likes his taint played with, and it's often a trigger to the
bladder... See, we know how to treat a boy well... Come on, start to piss,
it'll be easy as we massage you...."  And of course it was - well at least
a few dribbles started to flow, then once that had happened you all know
how it works: it was as if someone had opened a valve and my piss started
to hose out.

The guy holding my dick played with me then, as he directed the flow up and
down and around the urinal, and both guys were laughing, saying what a good
dick I had, and how I'd make excellent sport once I'd been properly
trained.

The flow stopped eventually of course, and then my 'skin was teased back,
and both guys admired my dick head.  I was red with embarrassment, and I
felt tears welling up - oh fuck me, I couldn't let them see me do that,
could I?

"That fucking Jake, he can choose them, can't he?  Nice dick, and
unskinned, and a nice cock head...." I heard one of them tell the other.

"Please, oh please...." I stuttered.  "Please let me go..."

One of them slapped my butt again, but kind of gently this time, almost as
if it was some sort of affectionate gesture.  "Pull your stuff up, boy, and
let's get you back to Jake, then" they told me. "There's some not very nice
guys in this place, men who prey on young guys like you.  You're lucky you
met us..."

My only consolation as I bent down to pull up my boxers and shorts was that
the light was so dim that I doubted that they could see my ass properly -
or indeed see my face burning bright red, and my eyes brimming with tears.
Before I knew it one of them had an arm around my shoulders again - the
scratchy wool again against my bare skin, and I was led out of the rest
room.

We got back to the booth where Jake was sitting, and one of the guys
sounded quite cross.  "You stupid fucker, Jake, letting your latest boy run
around free in here!  The kid's terrified - it's just as well Ray and me
were in there, and not some of the guys we can think of!"

"Are you OK, Steve?", Jake immediately asked, getting to his feet so that
all four of us were standing there.

"No these bastards stripped me, played with my dick, fingered my ass..."

"We were only playing, Jake. You know us - it's hard to resist a cute young
boy like this."

"Your games can be too fucking rough, Stu!  Look at him - he's shaking."
Jake sounded really angry as he said this, then he changed his tone and
said to me, almost casually as if it was a matter almost of no importance.
"No harm done, eh, Steve?  Ray and Stu were only doing the same sort of
stuff as you were doing with Reb yesterday..."

I as really angry now.  "Reb's a slave!  I was buying him!  What would he
expect to happen to him?  An owner needs to make sure a slave is in good
condition.  These apes assaulted me, abused me - look at them: fucking
rough manual labourers! The sooner we get rid of the last of them the
better and have slaves do that work, and when I go to the police and tell
them what happened there'll be two less of them and two more slaves working
on the highways or wherever...."

Jake just laughed.  "Oh Steve, you're so naive.  Ray and Stu both work in
the city, they're high-powered types, probably earn twenty times what I do.
Those are their play clothes, aren't they, guys?"  Ray and Stu both nodded,
and started smiling.  "And the cops will not listen to you - as far as
they're concerned what goes on in this club stays in this club - it's
members only, as you saw at the door, and so they reckon that if you're in
here you know what you're doing."

Ray gave a laugh then, and cut in.  "The boy's fucking rude, Jake, accusing
me of being a labourer!  I've a good mind to sue him for defamation - I can
easily get one of my legal associates to draw up the charges.... The Courts
would believe me as a member of the Bar, and with Stu here, such a
respectable CFO, he'd be found guilty.  But perhaps I'll settle for
something else - he has a cute butt, and I enjoyed slapping it a moment ago
to control him... Perhaps he needs a good spanking....?  I don't know where
they train slaves these days, but this one certainly needs a lesson in
manners!"

"I'm not a slave!  I'm Steve Masters, a free man, and my dad's a member of
the Bar, as you say you are!"

Ray looked at me "Are you the son of one of the partners at Crevath, James,
Swaine and Masters, then?"

"Yes! That's dad, and when I tell him about this, he'll get you
disbarred...."

Ray laughed again.  "Sure, your dad will love to appear in Court and tell
everyone how his son was cruising in a gay bar, then wasn't able to handle
it.  I don't think so, somehow!  Having litigated against him I know he's
pretty ruthless - I'd think he'd probably give your ass a good spanking
instead of me having to do it..."

"Hey, Ray, that sounds like a good idea.  I'll hold him down", Stu added.

"No one's touching Steve!", Jake said calmly.  "Now, come on, guys, all of
you - it was just a bit of harmless fun.  No harm done, except to Steve's
pride here, possibly, and I reckon that's no bad thing as I saw him in
action yesterday and he's a bit of an arrogant young sod."

"No I'm not!"

"See?", Jake countered, and he, Stu and Ray all burst out laughing.

Stu reached out his hand.  "Come on, Steve, lighten up a bit!  If that's
the worst that ever happens to you... Let me and Ray buy you another
beer...."  I could see the guy was sincere and, actually, I was a bit
worried about Ray knowing dad.  So I reached out and we shook - and as his
firm hand was in mine I suddenly thought that only a couple of minutes ago
it had been around my dick.  Ray then shook my hand, and pretended it hurt
him as he'd injured it on my butt as it was so firm, and we all sat down,
Jake next to me, and Ray and Stu opposite.

Ray signalled the waiter by snapping his fingers in the air loudly, then
when the slave scurried over ordered four more large beers, without even
asking Jake and me what we wanted.  I could see that underneath the rough
clothes he was indeed probably a lawyer, as dad did stuff like that.

"So how did you two meet?", Ray asked, and Jake explained that he'd dealt
with me yesterday when I was out shopping for a slave, and that we'd bumped
into each other earlier, and that he'd invited me for a drink so that he
could explain more about slave training.  "Fucking stupid of me, actually",
he said.  "I simply didn't think of the effect of bringing a cute guy like
Steve in here!"

"Oh, so you two are not an 'item'?" Stu asked.  "There's hope for me and
Ray with Steve here, then - we're looking for a new boy..."

"I told you I'm not a slave!"

"Cool it, Steve!", Jake put is arm around my shoulders again as he said
this.  You don't know what you're talking about, again.  "Ray and Stu are
looking for someone to join them in their play - when they get home from
Wall Street they like to dress up like that and go looking for companions
for the evening."

"Yes", Stu added.  "We prefer working men, labourers, mechanics, guys like
that, so we dress like this as we don't want to scare them with our suits
and silk ties.  Actually, you wouldn't do for us - you're a bit too
well-educated, by the sounds of you..."

The waiter came back at that moment holding a tray with four huge beers on
it, and he balanced it one hand as he leaned over to again wipe t table
with the cloth in the other.  Once again I got a glimpse of his dick as the
tiny loincloth swung aside.  I noticed that Ray and Stu did too, as the
moment he'd put the glasses down they caught hold of him and hauled him
across to sit between them.  He sat there not even looking even vaguely
apprehensive, and didn't object at all as Ray pulled his loincloth off so
that he was entirely bare, then rested his hand on the guy's dick.

 Jake held me tighter, and I couldn't help but see that the waiter was
about the same build as me, and probably about the same age: we might have
been cousins, or something You could tell he was a slave, though, as, like
Reb, he was branded on the shoulder.  Stu now curled his arm around the
boy's shoulders, as Jake's was around mine, but he reached further around
and started to gently tease at the boy's nipple.  Far from being angry the
slave seemed to like it, as he leant across and kissed Stu, full on the
lips!

Ray started to stroke the waiter's dick then and the slave was rampantly
erect almost instantly. Stu broke off his kissing, and pushed the slave's
head down towards Ray's crotch.  The slave fumbled with the zipper of Ray's
jeans, pulled Ray's dick out - which was difficult as Ray was erect, too,
and you know how messy it is as your dick always seems to get entangled in
the zipper, doesn't it?  The slave then bent lower and began to lick at it
as he stroked it gently.

"Fancy this one?" Ray asked Stu, and when Stu nodded, Ray told him to "go
and make arrangements".

Ray didn't seem to be paying much attention to us as he sat there with the
slave sucking his dick, as his eyes were on Stu who was at the bar talking
to the barman.  I was aware that Jake's fingers were playing with my nip
now as the slave's had been, and I wriggled uneasily as I have sensitive
nips.  "OK, Steve?", Jake whispered in my ear, then, as to my astonishment
he nibbled my earlobe.

 Stu was back by then, he nodded at Ray, and Ray pushed the slave off his
dick, Stu pulled the guy to his feet, then all three of them walked across
the bar towards the door, with Stu and Ray waving a goodbye at us.

"What the fuck...?"

"They've picked the guy they want to 'play' with tonight - normally they go
for guys, free men, not slaves. About their own age, who are, as they told
you, 'blue collar': I expect it makes a nice change for them after working
all day at their fancy jobs.  There's not a lot of guys like that in here
tonight, though, so after that little encounter with you I expect they felt
that a change of pace might be nice - did you see how much like you that
slave was?"

I nodded, and Jake continued "See what an effect you have on people, Steve!
They liked your cute butt, and the slave's wasn't bad as far as I could see
when they left.  So Stu went over and hired him from the barman."

Seeing me looking incredulous, he went on "He's a lucky guy, that slave.
Not only are Stu and Ray really nice guys - they like 'rough' but they
don't really play all that hard; they've got good bodies under those
clothes: they both put a lot of time in at the gym; but best of all for the
slave, they're big tippers and the slave will have a nice little addition
to his funds if he plays his cards right.  And judging from the way he knew
what to do with Ray's dick, I expect he will know how to please them,
please them both.  It's not jut a win-win situation, but win-win-win."

"How do you know all this, Jake?"

Jake tweaked my nip again, and I wriggled excitedly.  "You are naive,
Steve!  You really are!  Couldn't you tell from the way we were together
that Ray and Stu took me home a few times, like that slave boy?"

I was kind of shocked.  "And they're big tippers?  They gave you money?"

"Sure.  Why not?  They've got lots, I was new in town and was trying to fit
up a place to live, and it's not cheap around here, you know.  So why
shouldn't I take money from them?"

"So you're a whore?"

Jake's grip on my shoulder slackened.  "I ought to beat the shit out of
you, Steve!  A lot of guys would if you called them that.  But I'll put it
down to your naivety.  You don't get it, do you?  We all had fun together -
three guys all playing, all getting something out of it.  And at the end
they wanted to help me - I didn't just go to their place, you know, they
came to mine too, and saw I needed things.  They enjoyed spending money on
me, Steve: they've got everything they want, and shopping is boring - but
shopping for stuff for me, it gave them another thrill!  Win-win-win as I
said."

"But the slave's got no need for money - I guess Stu was paying the barman
for the slave's time?  What would the slave do with the tip - a slave's got
nothing to spend it on...."

"Steve, you told me you read all about slavery, you knew what it's
about....  You must know about slave co-ops?"  I shook my head.  "Well, I'm
sure you do know that slavery's final - once a slave, always a slave.  But
there are the co-ops: think of them as a corporation who can buy a slave,
but the co-op is run by the slaves themselves - well, almost: there have to
be free men at the top of course, but they're well-meaning people,
interested in slave welfare.  If a slave can accumulate enough money he can
get a co-op to buy him, then for the rest of his life everything's much
easier as the co-op owns him: he can't be sold again, can't be sent down
the mines when he's too old for any other type of work, can't be punished
by whipping, all that sort of stuff."  I nodded.  "Anyway, slaves are lucky
to get jobs as waiters here: any of the guys who can't find another guy can
always use a waiter, and most of us tip them, so they have real
opportunities to
 save for a co-op membership.  I reckon it's one of the best jobs around
for a slave, because of that."

I was astonished, and wanted to ask more.  But Jake pulled me close to him
again - I kind of liked being held like that, it made me feel secure.
"Anyway, Steve, you were going to tell me about how you're getting on with
Reb.  You said you'd started training him.  So how was that fantastic ass
of his?"

Jake pulled his face a little away from mine as he saw me looking puzzled.
"You did start to soften up his hole, didn't you?  Even if you didn't want
to fuck him?"

"Look, I'm not a fag...."

"Steve, it's not polite to use that word, especially not in here!  Some
guys prefer other guys, and there's no need to be abusive."  He loosened
his grip on me, as if to let me go, and I found myself wanting to push
myself back close to him.  "But I should have expected it, I suppose - a
good looking guy like you, a real jock... I bet you're on a lot of school
teams, and the girls all put out for you...?"

"Yes, I'm the captain of swimming, in the hockey, I do pretty well at track
and field, tennis.... But the girls don't 'put out for me', as you seem to
think.  That sort of thing doesn't happen at our school - they're all nice
girls."

Jake laughed.  Laughed and laughed.  "Steve, either you're incredibly
naive, or you're lying!  ...Or perhaps your fooling yourself?"

"What do you mean?"

"All girls - nice or not - would go for a guy like you.  Rich dad, a real
jock, handsome....  And I bet there are guys in your class who do have
girlfriends?"

"My best buddy does, Bobby...."  I stopped, as I realised there were
others, too.

"So either you're naive in thinking it doesn't go on at your school.  Or
you're lying to me, and you've had lots of girls...."

"Honestly, no!"

"Then you're deceiving yourself, Steve.  You're sending out signals to the
girls saying you're not interested.  But you don't want to admit that, so
you put up this smokescreen by telling everyone 'I'm not a fag...' every
minute.  But I saw you yesterday, Steve.  I saw how your body was reacting
to handling Reb.  Was that the first time you've felt another guy's body
like that?"

"Yes", I mumbled, sort of looking down, as I was kind of ashamed.

"Oh Steve, I'm so sorry... Sorry for you, that is.  I was like you at one
time, afraid to admit that other guys turned me on.  I know how tough it
is, always having to hide your real emotions, always having to pretend to
be something you're not...."

I sniffed loudly, several times, trying to hold back the tears.

Jake pulled me closer to him once more, turned his face towards me so he
could look directly at me and said quietly "So here you are, Steve.  Almost
eighteen.  Still a virgin.  Never been with another guy, never enjoyed
feeling another guy's body against yours.  Never been able to express
yourself properly.  Always worried that someone - like that buddy of yours
- will realise that you're not 'the same' as him.  Always scared someone
might accuse you of being a 'fag', so you always have to overreact...."

"Yes", I said quietly. And I could feel the tears start to flow down my
cheeks as this was the first time I'd ever been able to talk about this to
someone else.

Jake reached up with his other hand and gently brushed the edge of his
finger across my cheeks, wiping the tears away.  "It's OK, Steve.  Really
it is.  So what are we going to do about it?"

I shook my head gently, s I didn't know.  "Well, Steve, let me tell you
what won't work: I think you bought Reb mostly because you like his body,
and you thought you could fix some of this stuff by using a slave...."

"No.  I need a slave for college..."

"There you are again, Steve, denying yourself.  I bet your dad would get
you a college slave, a nice young educated guy, like yourself, who could
help out with your term paper, stuff like that.  But instead you want a
man, a real man, someone with a body, a big dick, a real personality,
someone who's seen life, like Reb.  You're hoping that you can satisfy
your... your... 'lust' shall we say, although that's not the right
word... Try 'your natural desire to be with another man', perhaps?  You
think you can get what you want from Reb, but you can't."

Very quietly, and miserably, I muttered "You may be right... I didn't think
of it like that..."

"At one level your brain did, Steve.  But the Steve on top, the guy who
wants to be in charge, that Steve won't - or can't - admit it.  It won't
work, Steve: sure you can fuck Reb, play with his body... And you can make
out that it's OK to do that as it's only going with a slave, and it's not
like 'being a fag' to fuck a slave.  But it will never satisfy you, never
totally satisfy you."

"You need a man, Steve, a proper man, a man who can respond to you properly
and fully, a man you can snuggle up to at night and confide in, a man you
can share all your secrets with, and who will tell you all his.  A slave
will never be like that, Steve, so you're fighting a losing battle - you've
lost already, but you don't know it yet."

I sat there in stunned silence.  Jake still held me tight.  Time seemed to
stretch out, almost to stop.

"So, Steve", he said quietly after some minutes, "What do you want to do?
We can sit here and talk about slave management, then you can go home, and
sooner or later you'll fuck Reb, and later still you'll know that wasn't
enough.  You'll probably get a wife, might even have kids, but deep inside
you'll know you're a failure, won't you, Steve? The one thing in life that
really matters, you'll never really have.... You'll never be able to be
true to yourself, as a real man is."

"Or?"  The whole of the room seemed to have been blotted out as I said
this, as I felt icily calm and kind of happy - no, not happy, joyous.

Jake smiled at me.  "Well done! You're thinking that there is an
alternative!  That's the first step.  The second one is that we get up and
get out of this seedy place, you come along with me to my place, and we do
some serious talking - although I can't guarantee there'll be a lot of
talking immediately, as I find you incredibly sexy, Steve!"

I pulled myself away from him and stood up.  Jake looked surprised, until I
said "So what are we waiting for, then?"

"You always like to be in charge, don't you?"  Jake laughed as he said
this, a kind, gentle, laugh, a laugh that told me he really was a nice guy.

Hovering at the back of mind was still a niggling worry that had been there
since I'd had the encounter earlier: that Ray would somehow bump into my
dad at the Court and say something about me - dad's razor sharp mind would
make connections, as I suppose most people knew Ray was as he was.  But as
Jake put his arm around my shoulder again, this time to lead me out, I
realised I didn't care.  Perhaps that's step three.

End Of Part Seven