Date: Mon, 12 Dec 2005 00:14:33 -0800 (PST)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: Steve Grows UP, Part Ten

Steve Grows Up

By Pete Brown        petebrownuk @ yahoo.com


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


Part 10

I knew I had to act.  I didn't like being a slave,
really, but I had kind of grown up into it, and I
suppose I was used to it.  But the thought of being
"docked" was too much.  I lay there at night in my
narrow slave cot, listening to the snuffles and snores
of the other household slaves, and tried to work out
what to do.  If I told Rob's parents, he'd have me
flayed, I felt certain - sooner or later, he'd get
around to it, find some reason for sending me to the
public whipmaster.  And I couldn't even plead with
Rob, as then he'd know that I'd been reading his
"secret" e-mails and stuff, and that would result in
at least a whipping.  And pleading with him probably
wouldn't do any good, anyway.

So I decided to run away.  It seemed to be the only
thing to do.  Except that I remembered what dad had
said about how difficult it was to run -  even if I
could overcome the difficulties of not having a credit
card or a ration card or a work permit, there was the
tracker chip.  As soon as Rob realised I was gone, it
would be activated and they'd soon be able to find me.
 And I remembered also that even if I managed to slip
away for a couple of days undetected, dad had said
that in the border areas there were automatic
monitors, and that slaves who lived and worked in
those areas had to be specially registered to avoid
triggering them.

I lay there awake, tossing and turning, an constantly
evaluating schemes and plans.  And then I hit on it -
but it would require daring and courage, and a whole
lot of luck!  And there would only be a very, very
narrow "window of opportunity" to put it into action,
as Rob's parents left.

The great day arrived and it was decided that Rob
would accompany his parents to Atlanta for the
transatlantic flight, and I guessed that when he got
back home the next day we'd be off to the
veterinarian.  So as soon as he'd driven them away, I
waited until dusk so that it was harder to see me, and
ran up to the forge.  I looked in at the window and
saw the usual family scene inside - mom and dad at the
head of the table, all my siblings neatly arranged
down the side, and Cliff and Karen in the middle.
They were at supper, and it just looked so homely, and
so comfortable, that I felt like crying.  My heart was
almost breaking, but I knew I shouldn't alarm the
kids, so I waited until they'd gone to bed, and mom
and dad were as usual sitting on either side of the
fire enjoying their "quiet time" together  for a few
minutes as they did every night.   I desperately
wanted to see mom, but thought that the sight of me in
a slave collar would really upset her, but then,
before I weakened and gave in to my impulses, she
kissed dad and went to the stairs up to bed, leaving
him alone there for a few moments.

I tapped on the window, and dad came to the door.  He
almost shouted out in joy and astonishment, but I
pressed y hand to his lips.  Then I hastily told him I
didn't want to upset mom and the kids, and that the
fewer people who knew about my plan the better - I had
to ask dad to do something that risked his whole life
- if his part in my escape was discovered,  the least
he could expect was a severe whipping and the Colonel
might even decide to sell him and the family!

"Dad, I need help - but I'll understand if you say no.
 It's risky, dad..."  I then told him as much as I
could compress into a couple of minutes about Rob's
hellish plan for me.

Dad gripped my shoulders, looked deep into my eyes,
and said  "Steve, you're my son.  No father could turn
his son down when faced with what's going to happen to
you...."   We hugged each other, and I knew I was
crying, and I suspect dad was, too, although, being
dad, he tried to hide it.  "But you're right, Steve",
he went on.  "Let's not worry your mom more than she
is already - she talks about you every single day, and
wonders how your life is going.  And it's not fair on
the kids either - let them enjoy their childhood, as
you did."

We went into the forge and dad blew the fire into a
white heat, then, using all his skill, he managed to
grab the rivet holding my collar closed with hot tongs
and carefully, and with a huge amount of brute force,
slice through it.  My collar fell open, and for the
first time in a year I was able to stand up without
its oppressive weight around my neck.

"They enslave free men who take a slave collar off a
slave, Steve", dad said, grinning.  "I wonder what
they do to a slave who does it?"

"Dad, we have to say goodbye.... I've got things to
do.... If I get to Canada, dad, I'm going to make a
lot of money, then I'll come back and buy you and mom
and the kids and free you all..."

"Yes, son, I know you will..."  The tone in dad's
voice said that he knew we were both fooling
ourselves, but what else can you say at times like
that?

"And dad", I said finally, "Remember - all of them
early to bed tomorrow night - and if mom thinks she
hears noises outside, tell her it's only the cats!"

>From the forge I went over to the Colonels, and as it
was now near midnight, fortunately all the guys
sleeping in the slave barn for the outdoor servants
were asleep.  I crept into the stall where Dob and Sam
slept and gently shook Sam awake, holding my hand over
his mouth to make sure he didn't make too much noise..
 We crept outside, and I told him what I wanted - one
of the bridles and bits that Mr Stryker used on
Dobbin.  Sam knew where the grooms kept these,  and I
took one - Sam was so pleased to see me, but I didn't
dare tell him of my plan , of course.   As we hugged
each other I remembered how much I'd enjoyed his
lovely muscled butt and I was very tempted to take Sam
off for a little fun, but I knew I'd got a tough day
the following day, and that I needed my sleep, so we
said our goodbyes.

I loped back Rob's place, then had to hide myself from
the other slaves  as I was without my collar.
Fortunately Rob had insisted I'd bought some of Jed's
clothes back from college with us as they were in need
of special cleaning and Rob had airily suggested that
it would "keep me occupied" during the summer, and so
I was able to pick the best of them to dress in.  It
felt really odd to have long pants on again, and a
shirt with sleeves, as I don't think my arms and legs
had actually been covered at all since before  I was
sixteen!  Then I hid in Rob's room, hungry, as I'd
forgotten to get any slave chow secreted there, but
able to drink from the taps in the bathroom.

I saw Rob's SUV drive up around lunchtime the next day
after the long drive, and a slave ran out to assist
him.  Rob looked annoyed, as it should of course have
been me, and he stormed into the house, shouting my
name and telling me to get there instantly, if I
didn't want to feel the cane on my butt!  I remained
in hiding, and then heard Rob on the phone in the hall
to the veterinarian, confirming the appointment  the
next day "...and just as well, too, if you ask me, as
I've been away less than a day and the slave's idling
somewhere and not working properly!", he stormed.

Finally, Rob bounded up the stairs, and as he came
through the door I grabbed him.  Although he was
strong from all the swimming, I was stronger.  And
surprise was in my favour.  I had to slap him around
some to get his attention and subdue him properly, and
before he knew what was happening to him, I had the
bit in his mouth and the "bridle" (actually just the
under-chin and around the head metal straps) firmly
locked in place.  He stood there, almost purple with
rage, but the shouts and cussing just came out as
totally incomprehensible mumbles as the spiked plate
on the bit pressed his tongue painfully to the floor
of his mouth.

"OK, Rob.... Shut up!", I snapped at him.  "I know
you're trying to tell me I must be mad, to do this to
you.  But I'm not, Rob - I'm bigger and stronger than
you are, so focus on that.  And if you give me any
more trouble, I'll hit you again and this time I'll
hurt you:  really hurt you.   Now, strip."

There was a renewed volley of muffled shouts, and  I
could see the veins in Rob's temples standing out in
anger.  "Rob, I can't hear you!", I told him
cheerfully.  "But this anger isn't doing you any good.
 Now, get out of those clothes, as I need you naked."

He just stood there still, so I forced him down on to
the bed,  pulled the punishment cane from its holder
on the wall, and gave him a light stroke across his
butt.  Honestly, you'd have thought the end of the
world had come, the way he seemed to be trying to howl
and cry.  And it was only one stroke, and not even on
the bare butt - he had his pants and boxers on still.
And I didn't even wield the cane as hard as I could -
although I'd lost some muscle tone, I'm still a pretty
strong guy, remember!

I let him stand up then, and I looked at him sternly.
"Now, Rob, you've used the cane on me often enough -
or allowed Jed to.  So how do you like it?  Now, if
you want to avoid two strokes, I suggest you start to
obey me... I told you to strip, remember?  You're
surely not shy, are you?  How many times have I seen
you naked, after all?  Every morning at least, as I've
had to suck you off.  Now, get out of those clothes!"

Slowly, and reluctantly, Rob did as he was told, and
stood there in his boxer shorts.  I looked at him
again.  "Rob, I said strip.  Get naked.  Have you lost
the power of understanding as well as the power of
speech?  Get naked, boy, before I cane you again."

Rod dropped the shorts and stood there, looking
vaguely defiant.  "I'm glad you've kept in shape, Rob,
as it will make it easier for people to believe you're
a slave", I remarked cheerfully, and at once saw his
demeanour change from one of resignation, to one of
anger and disbelief, coupled with a lot of angry
muttering.

"I can't hear you, Rob, and I don't fucking well care,
anyway.  We used to be buddies, Rob, and I'd have been
a good slave to you if you'd treated me right..... But
you and Jed used me as if I was an animal.  And then I
found about your plan to have my dick cut off...."  As
I said this, I reached out and grabbed Rob's familiar
dick in my hand.  "So, Rob, do you think I should take
you along to that veterinarian tomorrow and have this
removed?  He wouldn't know that you weren't 'Steve'
and that I wasn't 'Rob', after all, as you've only
communicated by e-mail."

Rob was shaking his head violently and trying to say
something, and I was gratified to feel that he was
starting to go hard in my hand.  I used my thumb to
push his 'skin back, revealing his head, and scratched
at his piss slit idly, causing him to flinch.  "Or
should I just have the dick head taken off, Rob?
That's where most of the sensation is, after all.  I
guess you'd still be able to fuck - not like what you
had planned for me, with a minimal residue!"

He was shaking his head wildly now, so I slapped is
face- hard - to shut him up, and to remind him of who
was in charge here.   "Anyway, Rob, don't worry - I
have other plans in store for you.... We're going to
take a little trip together, up north, a long way
north.... Now, let's go into the bathroom...."

I decided he'd look better completely hairless from
the eyebrows down - it would make him look more
slave-like, and, at the same time, would help him to
begin to realise his new position, and there was a
certain satisfaction in having his naked body there,
covered in shaving foam, as I wielded the razor all
over him.  Then I used the hair clippers to take him
down to a normal slave crop on top.  I pushed him in
front of the big mirror, and saw him looking at
himself.  "Yes, Rob, it makes a difference, doesn't
it?  You had my pubes shaved off totally, remember?
But sadly I can't make you wear a permanent cock ring
as you made me do -  but even so, it does emphasise
your dick, doesn't it, when it can't peek out from its
little nest of pubes?  See, you're beginning to look
like a slave already.  It's a pity about your white
butt, but  I think we can do something about that...."

Rob had always been vain, and in his bathroom he had
lots of that "fake tan" for use early in the season.
I made him stand there as I smeared the stuff
liberally all over him - and around my own neck, too,
as the part under where my collar had been cut off was
distinctly lighter than the rest of me.

We had to wait until dark then before I could put the
next part of my plan into action, so I passed a
relatively pleasant time with Rob in his bed -
although he'd always fucked me at college, I soon
found out that he must have been screwing around as he
was no stranger to taking a dick in the ass.  Mind
you, from the way he wriggled and squirmed and tried
to get away from me, you'd have thought I was trying
to rape him, rather than just pass an afternoon with
an old buddy doing the things men enjoy!

As the sun fell, we needed to leave and I decided to
keep Rob naked as he'd probably be easier to manage,
but he wasn't used to going around barefooted as
slaves were and so I did allow him to pull on a pair
of sneakers.  It looked quite funny, actually  - a
nice-looking body like his, with a presentable  dick,
but with legs sticking up out of the big sneakers as
we stood there.

I couldn't take the SUV of course as that would wake
mom and the kids when I drove up to the forge, so I
had to "encourage" Rob along the track with which I
was so familiar.  He was a real pain, always trying to
stop, and turn back, and in the end I cut a switch off
a bush and then "herded" him in front of me using it
to swish and slash at his butt, back and thighs if he
didn't move properly - from the way he was acting
you'd have thought it really hurt, but, if you think
about it, it's a lot less harsh than the tawse.

Dad had left the forge door open and there was still a
cheery glow from the fire.  I had to act quickly now,
before Rob realised what was in store for him and
tried to do something really foolish, so as we went in
I grabbed his arms, pilled his wrists behind him, and
slipped on a pair of the cuffs that were always
hanging just behind the door in case some of the
niggas who were brought in were "uppity".  Once
cuffed, a man's pretty helpless - especially if he's
naked - and extra vulnerable.  Rob found this out as I
scythed his legs away from under him, catching him as
he fell, and almost propelling him across the anvil.
It took only a moment to pull the restraints up over
his body, and there he was, totally helpless.


Look, I know it's an utterly vile thing to do to a man
- searing his flesh with a white-hot branding iron.
And as I looked at Rob's naked body lying there I did
doubt for a moment whether I should continue.  It
hadn't been him who had ordered my branding, after all
- that was the Colonel.  But, on the other hand, if
Rob hadn't intended to have me "docked", he wouldn't
be lying there now.  My only chance of escape was to
have Rob as a slave, and even with a collar, without a
brand he'd always be a risk as any really suspicious
cop could just yank down his shorts and look at his
butt.  It was risky enough as it was - Rob had that
other thing that free men have but slaves don't, his
'skin - but I didn't want to risk taking him to a
veterinarian for that!  So it had to be done.  I had
no choice, had I?    As Rob tried to struggle and
moaned and cried through the bit, I fanned the fire
into a glowing heat, and plunged the branding iron
into the middle of it.  Then, when it was done, I
moved slowly and deliberately (a few slaves have been
seriously scarred in the past when the smith has
tripped and sent the iron spinning out of control into
the slave's skin!).  As he felt the heat of it
approach  the white skin on his butt his cries became
even more insistent, but I said, calmly, "Sorry,
Rob.... this will hurt, but it's got to be done....",
and plunged the iron home.

I'm glad I'd had a lot of practice with the niggas, as
the moment the smoke starts to rise and that dreadful
of charred meet assails your nose you're tempted to
let go, but for a good, crisp brand you have to hold
the iron there, perfectly steady, for a few seconds.
And exert the right pressure to get it through the
outer layers of the skin.  I did wonder for a few
moments if white skin reacted differently to a
nigga's, but there was nothing I could do about it, so
I just stuck to what I knew.   Of course, the moment I
judged it ready I tossed the iron to one side and at
once slathered some of the special healing and
soothing salve that mom made onto Rob's butt, but he
was't a bit appreciative.  And I realised, too late,
that I'd forgotten to put some straw down to catch
Rob's crap and piss that his body had involuntarily
expelled.

Still, whilst he was on the anvil, strapped down, it
was as good a time as any to do the other thing, and
collar him.  He was a pretty standard fit, so there
were lots of spare collars in the store room, and I
could kind of imagine what Rob must be feeling as I
closed the heavy, cold iron around him for the first
time.  Still, I had a lot of experience, so I was able
to reassure him by saying "This really won't hurt,
Rob.  The rivet is very hot when I put it in the
collar and you'll feel the heat against the skin, but
I won't let it burn you.  And even though the hammer
sounds pretty gross in your ears, I'm good at this and
I've never missed and destroyed a slave's ear yet!".

When I'd finished and let him up, he stood there in
front of me and what I'd hoped for was indeed true -
with a collar on, a collar that was causing his head
to bow almost automatically because of the weight, and
with his body totally shaved and his hair cropped, and
the marks of the "S" on his butt, he really did look
like a slave.  Gone was the "fashion model" in his
fine clothes, and now here was a naked slave - what a
small difference there was really between a free man
and a slave!  Mind you, he looked the picture of
misery - tears were streaming down his face and there
was a very unpleasant trail of snot from his nostrils,
and the inside of his thighs was discoloured from
where he'd crapped.  So I led him over to the big
trough of cold water and then, when he at first
refused to get in to it, simply used my strength to
tip him in - with his hands still cuffed, he could
hardly resist.

He sat there spluttering and trying to shout and
complain as the water was cold, but, it seemed to me,
I was doing him a favour - as well as cleaning him up,
the cold water would take some of the "heat" out of
the brand.  I stood there, almost laughing, and said
"Rob, shut up!".  He didn't, of course, so I taught
him a little lesson in obedience by pushing his head
down under the water, and then holding it there - he
was quite unable to resist, and it must have occurred
to him that I could easily drown him if I'd wanted to.
 When I did let him come up for air he was gasping and
spluttering, but at least he'd stopped making that
dreadful noise.

I cleaned up Rob's crap, put away the tools and doused
the fire, then got Rob out of the trough.  He was
shivering as the water ran off him, so it seemed to me
it would  only be "kind" to make him run back to the
house, to help him warm up.    As we started down the
trail, I looked back on my old home and there was dad
standing at the door, his arm raised in a farewell
gesture.  It almost broke my heart - I wanted to go
back, to hug him again.  I wanted everything to be
like it used to be.  But I knew that's not possible in
life, and to avoid losing my self control, I gave dad
a clenched fist salute back to tell him I was OK, I
was my own man, and set off.

I locked Rob in the back of the SUV and wrote a note
for the house slaves saying that Master Rob had
decided to take me to the coast for a couple of days,
then I drove off - it's not all that hard to do,
actually:  a whole lot of that driving licence stuff
is to do with the law and everything, and almost
nothing to do about steering and braking and stuff
like that, and by the time we'd gone five or six miles
I felt totally confident.  After all, I was already in
so much trouble with the law that if I broke a few
more to do with  traffic regulations, it would hardly
matter, would it?

As we drove north I started to get really worried in
case Rob's disappearance was thought to be
"suspicious" - my note, and the fact that his parents
were in Europe, ought to be OK, but you never know!
Fortunately Rob's parents were a bit cheapskate and
didn't call his cell directly - his father texted him
every day, though, but of course when I replied, they
had no way of knowing it wasn't Rob doing it.

I thought it was less risky to draw a whole lot of
cash from Rob's account with his card than to take it
in bits and pieces as we journeyed, which would leave
a trail.  Fortunately Rob was such a lazy bastard that
he'd often not bothered to go to the ATM himself and
had made me run across the campus when he needed cash,
giving me his PIN of course, so now I had no problems.
 There was more than enough to pay for a succession of
one-night stops in cheap motels:  I'd never eaten in
proper restaurants before so really enjoyed
hamburgers, pizzas and all that kind of crap, although
Rob didn't seem to like me squeezing slave mush
(that's some sort of homogenised, liquefied slave
chow) down his throat from one of those disposable
squeezy packs you can buy for slaves whose owners are
on the move:  I thought it best to keep his bit in
place, and most of the time I had him cuffed, too.  At
first he'd been really embarrassed at me taking him
out of the SUV into the motels when he was naked, and
even though he was cuffed he tried to twist and turn
his body away from other people who were unloading
their luggage.   It was pretty decent of me, actually,
to let him be free in the room - I stopped at a slave
suppliers as we drove and bought a short chain and
manacle, so when I went out to dinner I could leave
him chained to one of the "slave tethers" in the wall,
by his ankle.  It was much easier that way as he could
get to the bathroom if he needed it, but couldn't get
out of the door or anything (and I did of course
remember to unplug the phone and take it with me, in
case he knocked it off hook and pressed buttons at
random!).

I suppose we could have stayed in a bit more upmarket
place where the rooms come with   a slave cage by the
side of the clothes closet - after all, it wasn't my
money I was spending!  But it seemed a bit of an
extravagance, and  as Rob was  needed in bed every
night as I enjoyed fucking him before I went to sleep,
so the big metal ring set in the wall for tethering
was perfectly adequate.  Oh yes, he was needed in bed:
 after being fucked steadily for a year by Rob and
Jed, my dick really needed to do what it was designed
for!  I mean, I could hardly fuck his throat, could I,
with that bit in the way?  So it had to be his ass,
but I did try to be very careful and avoid putting any
pressure at all on his brand, which was scarring over
nicely.  Of course you can do this by having the other
guy lie on his side and you kind of lift his leg
upwards and slide your body behind his and get in, but
what you save by not touching his butt you probably
make up for as the insertion angle seems to cause a
certain amount of, shall we say, discomfort? Well not
for the dick, of course, but for the guy's ass.  So it
was swings and roundabouts, I suppose, but at least I
thought I'd made the effort, which is more than rob
ever did with me!

Most of the major sights on the way we bypassed, of
course, so I didn't get to see New York, something I'd
always wanted to do.  After five days on the road Rob
had calmed down a lot  (I kept off the major highways,
mostly, as I didn't much like all the heavy truck
traffic), and I think it was because he knew we were
heading for the border, and that then my slave chip
would be caught by one of the automatic monitors.   I
don't think he understood that I'd thought about this,
and as he'd been particularly good that morning I'd
even allowed him to wear a pair of my shorts that day
as I, too, was cheerful as freedom got ever closer.
So when I saw the lights flashing in my rear view
mirror and heard the siren wailing, the two highway
patrol cops found an owner, and a slave, as they might
have expected.

They were neat looking guys - one in his mid thirties,
I'd say, and one in his early twenties.  The younger
one tried to make out that he was in charge, but  I
sensed that the older one was kind of "mentoring" him.
 He commented that they didn't get a whole lot of out
of state plates up that way at that time of year, and
I was easily able to put up a convincing patter:
parents off on vacation, all my college friends with
other plans, so I had decided to see a bit of the
country and I'd always wanted to go to Niagara Falls.
The older one looked in the back and saw Rob writhing
around, as if he was trying to attract the cops'
attention, and he came over and asked me about him.
"Oh, the slave is always uppity!  I'm thinking of
having him gelded before the next semester...."

"Sir, the problem is that the monitors have detected a
slave chip in this area, and as we're in the
"frontier zone", it alerts us.  You really should have
checked in at a patrol station and informed us...."

"I'm sorry, officer, I didn't know.... Can I go and do
it now.... I'm sorry for all the inconvenience, and
trouble..."

"No, sir.  We can do it from the car, but we'll need
to look at the slave first just to make sure there's
no problem..."

"Of course, officer", I said, and outwardly
confidently, but trembling inside, I went over and
pulled the rear door open, and half dragged Rob out.
He was trying to shout and tell them something, of
course, and there was a trace of blood on his lips
where in his urgency he'd overridden the pain that he
must be in as the spikes on the bit's tongue plate dug
into him.  I grabbed him by the biceps, digging my
fingers in so it really hurt, and half dragged him
over to the officers.

"This is the slave", I said.  "Properly collared....
And I'm sorry for the confusion over the chip."

"Nice looking piece of meat you've got there", the
older officer broke in now.  "We hardly see any
whiteys up here as they're just too damned expensive."

"Well I wouldn't have got this one if my old daddy
hadn't gone in to breeding them before I was even
born", I countered, putting on a fake southern accent.
 Or was it fake?  After all, I'd been brought up in
the south, and I thought I sounded a lot like Rob.

"Nice skin", the officer continued.  "We really don't
see too many whitey slaves up here...."

"Perhaps you'd like a closer look....?"

The older guy gave me a big wink, and moved towards
Rob.  With a very practised hand - how many times had
he done this, I wondered - he yanked Rob's slave
shorts down, then stood back to appraise Rob properly.
  He ran his hands lightly over Rob's torso, muttering
"Nice...." To himself, but then, when we got around to
Rob's butt, he looked at me "This is a fresh slave
brand...."

"Oh yes, officer.  He's only recently been enslaved.
He was rather a wild kind of guy, I think, and they
finally nailed him for statutory rape of a minor."

I thought the officer was going to hit Rob.  "Bastard!
 These guys think they can go around harming our
kids...."

"Oh, it wasn't like that, actually.  As far as  I can
see from the court papers, she was only just under
sixteen, but a real minx:   R... Steve here wasn't the
first man she'd seduced.  He ought to have known
better, though, as we are touchy about that kind of
thing in my state, and most guys demand to see the
birth certificate of girls.  But he was half drunk....
 And even then he'd have got off if he'd just paid up
when she demanded money.  So it's his own fault."   I
paused, glad that I'd remembered that Rob was supposed
to be a slave, Steve - I didn't know how much
information the officers' tracker display gave them.
"Still, now Steve's a slave, all that's in the past.
And he's taken to proper sex quite well - he still
struggles and screams a bit when he's fucked hard, but
we're getting there."

"Oh, you use him for sex, do you?"

"Oh yes, officer.  My folks want me to make a good
marriage - you know how it is these days - but they
know that 'm subject to all sorts of temptations at
college.... So buying me a slave with a good ass
seemed the obvious solution.  Still, he can be a bit
awkward, even now...."   I could see the cop looking
at Rob kind of curiously, and decided I needed to
deflect his mind into other channels.  "He needs more
experience, of course.... Someone big, and strong,
and..... And mature, I guess, to really show him what
it's all about.  I do my best, but.....  I don't
suppose, officer, you'd help me out, would you....?"

I saw the man's eyes glinting, as in truth Rob was
actually very desirable.  "I'm sorry, sir, but we're
on duty.  We're not allowed to have sex on duty, are
we Scott?", he said, laughingly, turning to his
companion the young officer.

"No, sir.", the young guy replied, but as he did so he
kind of looked down, as if he was ashamed of
something.

"Anyway, sir, sorry to have troubled you.", the older
officer went on.  "If you're touring, might I
recommend the motel on the left, the first one you
come to, in the next town?  They have a good coffee
shop, too.  One of my cousins owns it, and it's really
good value."

"I'll remember that.  Thank you."

The two men climbed back in their car and drove away,
and I looked at Rob.  "See, we can even fool the cops.
 There's no hope for you, Rob - you really look like a
slave now, and even experienced cops can tell it!
Now, get those shorts on.... That motel sounds like
what we need, as it's been a long day and I need to
plan for tomorrow."

The motel was good, actually - a nice room with two
big beds, at a very reasonable price, and I left Rob
tethered to the wall, sprawled out on one of them, as
I investigated the coffee shop.  I was just finishing
my pie a la mode, after a very good meat loaf, and was
telling myself this had to stop or else I'd get as fat
as a pig, when the two officers came in.  They looked
across and saw me, and came and slid into the seats
opposite.  I felt a cold trickle of sweat starting to
run down my back, and drip out of my pits to fall on
my ribs.

"I was just saying to Scott here, sir", the older one
cut in without any preliminaries, "That we needed to
show a southern visitor a bit more courtesy.  You
asked for our help, sir, and we had to turn you down
as we were on duty.  But we're on our meal break now,
sir, officially off duty....."   He was smiling as he
said this.

"...and I'd just finished, officer, and was about to
go back to my room.  Would you care to come and see
the slave again?"

The older man didn't even reply, but got to his feet
straight away.   I paid the check on the way out and
picked up a couple of the squeeze bottles of slave
mush for Rob, and we all three went back.

As he saw us come in Rob at first seemed to really
look hopeful.  He sat bolt upright from where he's
been sprawling idly, and started to mumble something
that sounded very upbeat.  He obviously thought I'd
been found out.  But that all instantly changed to one
of despair as the big, burly older cop grabbed the
chain and used it to haul Rob to the foot of the bed.
 Rob was at first surprised, but then started to
struggle, and the cop gave him a couple of really
vicious slaps across his face, before ripping off
Rob's shorts.  "Sorry about this, sir", he said to me,
as he pushed Rob back onto the bed. "There'll be no
permanent damage to the slave, but he needs to  know
who's boss.  And I'll pay you for the shorts...."

I shook my head, watching in fascination as the guy
pulled down his pants and underwear, then stood there,
his dick jutting out from under his uniform shirt.  He
stroked his dick lovingly a couple of times - I always
do this myself, and I think a lot of guys who are
proud of their equipment do that when other guys are
watching them - and asked "do I need a condom, sir?"

"Oh no.  He's clean.  And I wouldn't want to spoil
your fun."

"Thank you, sir.  Very considerate."  He turned to
face me then, his big dick swinging around manfully as
he did so.,  "I'd like to take him without lube too,
sir, if that's OK with you.... These uppity slaves
need a good, hard fucking every now and then to remind
them who's in control.  He'll be really sore
afterwards, though.... It might spoil it for you
tonight, sir..."

I could see the look of terror on Rob's face, but now
this cop was so wrapped up in it all, I wasn't about
to turn him off.  "No, that's OK.... In fact, it might
do him good to have me  take him when he's sore.  But
what about officer Scott?  Won't he want to use him
next?"

"Oh no, sir.  The officer isn't like that!" The older
cop was laughing as he said this, and turned back
towards Rob, grabbing his ankles and pulling his legs
apart and up onto his shoulder.

I went and sat on the couch, to watch.  Although he
was an older guy, the cop was in good shape and had a
wonderfully beefy butt with an interesting line of
thick, dark curls peeping out from his crack.  The
young cop, who I now say could only have been a couple
of years older than me, sat beside me.  He was
nervously twisting a wedding band around his finger.

We both sat there as the cop entered Rob, with a lot
of muffled shouting from him and thrashing around of
his arms on the bed.  I glanced down, and Scott was
definitely hard - he was now trying to at the same
time conceal the bulging crotch in his uniform pants
from me and gently stroke himself through them.
"That's a good partner you've got", I whispered to
him.  "Do you often get to see shows like this?  I
wish I had someone like that to buddy up to and who
gave me a lot of fun...  But do you take it in turns?
Do you get first pick of the slaves sometimes, or do
you always have to take sloppy seconds?"

The guy looked really embarrassed, and kept on
twisting his wedding band.  "Oh, no, I'm married...",
he stammered.

"...married, but really turned on by watching two guys
go at it", I commented, keeping my tone light.   I
reached over and put my hand on top of his where it
lay on his crotch, and then, when he didn't protest, I
moved his hand away and began to explore the outline
of his hard dick for myself.


Well, as the older cop fucked away, I began to seduce
Scott, first putting my other hand behind his head and
pulling his face towards me so I could kiss him
gently, and as he didn't resist - indeed, he turned
his body towards mine as if eager for more - I thrust
my tongue into his mouth and began to passionately
tongue fuck him and bite at his lips.  It was easy as
I did this to slide my hand down into his pants - he
seemed to have a good, toned belly, I noticed - and as
my fingers touched his dick I felt that unmistakable
moistness of pre-cum.  There was no doubt about it -
Scott was ready for fucking, and I was ready to do it:
 the thought of fucking my first free man as an
(almost) free man myself was intoxication, and I threw
caution to the winds and pulled Scott to his feet and
led him to the second bed.

It struck me that Scott was potentially a bit
subservient, so I pushed him down on his belly with
his ass overhanging the edge of the bed, and without
any more discussion or anything pulled down his pants
and boxers.  His butt was really nice - not unlike my
own - still with that special firmness you get in guys
in their early twenties, and I could tell that he must
work out, or swim, or run, or something, as I could
see the long lines of muscles reaching down his
thighs.   I gave him a couple of reassuring slaps with
my bare hand, as I think that signals to a guy that
you know what you're doing, and that you're in
control, and then roughly kicked at his ankles to get
him to spread his legs some more so I could reach
underneath him to pull his erect dick back and begin
stroking it.  With my other hand I forced his butt
cheeks apart and started to scratch gently at his
pucker.

The older officer - sweat pouring off his face as his
vigorous fucking of Rob continued - shouted out "Ride
him, cowboy!  Scott likes a rough ride..." and I then
I knew that normally it wasn't slaves getting the
pounding that poor Rob was getting, but the young
officer.  So I decided to be gentle, and let go of
Scott's dick - which was drooling pre-cum in a steady
leak - and focussed on playing with his ass to relax
him.  My own dick was straining so hard against my
pants that it was painful, and then the thought struck
me: the moment I stripped off they'd see my "S"!  But
I couldn't stop now, could I?   In spite of the terror
surging through me, I had to go on.

I hauled Scott around the bed so that we were at right
angles to the cop fucking Rob, and let my pants and
boxers fall to the floor.  Then I did all those things
guys really like - trailing my dick head up and down
Scott's ass crack so he could feel it's hard, velvety
warmth against him, before moving on to tease it
gently, ever so gently, into him.  At least like this
I might be safe - Scott, face pressed into the
mattress, was in no position to see my butt; and the
older cop was at the wrong angle (and anyway totally
focussed on fucking Rob).

Frankly, I could have fucked Scott all night.  He was
extremely responsive once we got started and his cries
of sheer delight as I varied my pace and length fed
back to me and made me even more turned on.  But the
older cop finally shouted "Jesus fucking Christ.....",
and I saw him arch backwards in that characteristic
way guys do as they shoot, then stay there for a
couple of minutes, before collapsing forwards onto
Rob, utterly exhausted.  Well, I had to cum then,
didn't I?  I needed to get out of Scott and get my
clothes back on before the older cop did - if he came
to watch me, as we'd been watching him earlier, it
would be a total disaster. But, as I'm sure you're all
aware, it doesn't matter how much you're turned on by
another guy or how hard your dick is, you just can't
"cum on demand"!  I really had to start pounding Scott
quite hard before I finally shot, and then pull out of
him much more quickly that I'd have wanted to, so I
could stumble towards the bathroom and quickly wash my
dick, before coming out with my pants pulled up.

The older cop was sitting with his arm around Scott on
the edge of the bed, and he was saying "Good boy,
Scott.  I told you we'd find you a nice guy who'd give
you a good time.  You need more experience, boy, as
you've been a bit unresponsive to me recently."

Poor Scott just sat there, still twirling his wedding
band nervously.  "Would you officers like to shower or
anything - are you going back on duty?"

"No thank you, sir", the older one said at once.
"Just a quick wash of my dick, and we must be going.
And Scott needs to wipe his ass, of course...."  He
laughed almost cruelly as he said this, and I thought
of the number of times I'd been like that in the last
year, sitting there waiting for either Rob's or Jed's
cum to leak out from me.

After they'd gone, I lay next to Rob on the bed and as
I toyed with his nips and fondled his balls, I showed
him that  I was at least considerate, unlike him.
"Sorry, Rob", I said casually "But I needed to
distract that officer.  He gave you a pretty good
going over, didn't he?  But don't worry, old buddy,
tomorrow you'll be a free man again.  And I've decided
not to fuck you tonight, just to say 'goodbye', as I
guess you're really sore."

The ungrateful bastard didn't even acknowledge me, or
try to mumble "Thank you."!

End Of Part Ten