Date: Fri, 18 Nov 2005 08:08:23 -0800 (PST)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: Steve's First Job, Part Ten

Steve's  First Job   by Pete Brown    petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

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

Part  10


Stu:  Well I didn't manage to write to you, did I?  A
couple of days have gone by, and there's still
trouble!  I'd decided that the way to win was to have
an entry that's so much better than any of the pony
traps that they just have to give me the prize, and
that the way to do this was to have all nine of them
identical - well, eight near clones, and nine as some
sort of "extra" but n the same theme.  The problem is
that although they're all basically similar in body
size and shape, they've all got different coloured
hair and different amounts of body hair and so on.
And, of course, two and a couple of the others still
have their 'skins whereas the rest are cut.  It seemed
sensible to have the three of them 'skinned,
therefore, and I'd arranged for the veterinarian to
come in and do it.

When two heard about it he went berserk, and stood
there in the cage shaking at the bars and calling me
all sorts of foul names.  It's just as well it didn't
happen when he was out of the cage, as otherwise he
might have actually attacked me!  The only thing to do
was to reach in and stun him, and whilst he was
unconscious to cuff his wrists to his collar, and
muzzle him.  I really don't understand what all the
fuss was about, as it's not a serious operation - it's
not as if I was taking one of his kidneys for a
dialysis patient, or some of the other stuff they use
slaves for now.  His dick would still function -
function better, in my opinion, afterwards.  And he'd
save time in the shower in the morning without having
to clean under that 'skin.....   It's not at all
painful, either - in fact, down at the auction rooms
if you want your slave 'skinned they just do it on the
spot, without even a mild anaesthetic.  But I'd paid
my own money to have the veterinarian to come in and
do it "humanely", with a shot into the dick first, and
it was only supposed to take three minutes each and so
the day's work wouldn't be affected.  But now with two
stunned and muzzled, all that was upset.

I had to get two of the other slaves to hold two still
as the veterinarian operated - we had him on a horse,
with one sitting on his thighs and one on his chest,
and then he basically couldn't move as the 'skin was
neatly cut around and the stitches to hold the cut
ends together were put in - well, not stitches as
such, but some sort of small mini-staples which
automatically dissolve in three days.  The little tool
the veterinarian used was really neat - just click,
click, click and the job was done.  He advised a
plaster around the wound, but only for one day, and
then it was all over.  I kept the little ring of skin
that was cut off, as I thought I might dry it and add
it to that bead necklace you've seen me wearing when
I'm aggressively casually dressed.  The others weren't
that much trouble, as they'd seen what I did to two,
and just stood there with their dicks on a low table
as he did them.  But there was further delay, of
course, as I had to punish two - I mean, I could
hardly let him get away with that sort of behaviour in
front of the other slaves.

I'd undone two's cuffs as he' d calmed down a bit, and
I told him that I'd only take the muzzle out if he
understood that there was to be no discussion on what
had gone on - I ought to have kept him muzzled all
day, of course, but I needed him to keep the others
doing their proper jobs as we worked and so it was in
my interests to have him able to speak.  He nodded,
although with a sour expression, and so  I told him
that I'd just added two more strokes to his punishment
for that piece of dumb insolence.    I ordered him
back on to the horse, but I decided to allow him to
start to grow back the respect of the other slaves -
who I don't think liked two's outburst - by not
cuffing his wrists and ankles to the legs:  he'd
demonstrate that he was tough and could take the
beating, and that he was obedient by standing there
unshackled.

It takes a lot of physical effort to administer ten
strokes of the cane, and by the time I'd done, I was
pretty pissed off with two still.  He'd stood there,
just grunting as each blow hit, deliberately holding
back his screams to "prove" his manhood to the others.
 And I was worried that the livid red stripes all
across his butt now might not fade in time for the
County fair - I could hardly expect to win a prize
with a slave who was so clearly disobedient that he
needed that much punishment, could I?   Still, it had
to be done, and I have to say that for the rest of the
day he was an example to them all, working even harder
than usual, and taking control and really making my
life easy.   That night, though, I decided he still
needed to be punished further, and so after all the
others were fed and caged, I ordered him to come with
me to my room in the BDQ.  He stood there looking
proud and defiant, his dick half erect as a result of
the metal cock ring, and I said simply "You know what
comes next, don't you, two?  On your back, legs in the
air, and hold your ankles...."

For an instant he looked as if he might be going to
protest, but then he lay there as I'd ordered, and I
took some time undressing and stroking my dick to
erection.  "This is going to hurt, two", I told him.
"You're still resisting my authority, and that's got
to stop.  You're lucky to escape with a caning this
morning, and now I'm going to fuck you, fuck you hard,
and that striped ass will really feel it!".  There'
something special about fucking a man in that position
anyway, as you can see the effect your dick is having
by watching his face as you go in to him, and tonight
I was rewarded by seeing how two desperately tried to
control his features as he tried not to let me see
that he was hating the fucking, and that it was
hurting him a great deal:  I had not bothered with
stretching or lube of any kind, and the caning was
already very sore without my body slamming into it all
the time.  I made no effort to be gentle and this was
just a hard, fast, furious fuck, where I almost pulled
right out on each stroke and then slammed back in.
It was wild and exciting for me, then when I'd cum, I
threw myself alongside two and  lay there, exhausted,
but almost laughing with happiness as I'd enjoyed it
so much.

Two shifted uneasily alongside me, and  I turned
towards him and went to stroke his nipple, to show him
I was no longer so cross with him.  He almost drew
away, and I felt my anger rising again.  "Is something
wrong, two", I almost snapped, and he muttered "No,
sir.  Not really."
"Not really?  I think there's something very wrong,
two!  Your attitude!  That outburst this morning, then
you deliberately didn't cry out tonight, you didn't
participate, and that takes away some of my enjoyment.
You knew that, didn't you?  Is that the way a salve
ought to behave?".  He turned his handsome face
towards me and said simply "You had me 'skinned, sir!
You took away my manhood.  That's not right, sir.  You
shouldn't have done that...."

"You stupid fucking slave", I snapped back.  "You've
just shown me how wrong I've been to try to treat you
well, to let you almost be a sergeant again, instead
of just treating you like one of the other slaves.
Something I ordered done to you is 'not right'?  How
can something I order for a slave not be right?  And I
didn't 'take away your manhood' - you're just as much
of a man now as you ever were, it's just that you'll
look neater and tidier, and more like the other
slaves. I need you all to look alike, and as I can't
grow foreskins back on the five of you who were
already cut, the three of you with 'skins needed to
lose them.  It's as simple as that - you're all my
slaves, and if I want you all to have a certain
'look', that's what will happen.  And if you ever
protest, or defy me like that again, it won't just be
your 'skin that you lose - it will be your balls; and
that will REALLY mean you lose your manhood!  Is that
clear, two?  And if you want to remain as my
'sergeant', I want to see a complete change in your
attitude:  it's not enough for a responsible slave
like that just to obey, he has to accept his owner's
orders, and communicate that acceptance to the others.
 Is that all clear?"

He looked at me, and I could almost see him thinking.
He could see that he ultimately couldn't win.  And he
did like being  'special'.  He said quietly "Yes,
sir", and then, without being ordered, half sat up,
bent towards me, and started to clean my dick with
that big sexy tongue of his.  After he'd finished I
was almost laughing as he'd kind of tickled me with
his tongue, and he was smiling, too.   I decided to do
something I'd never done before and keep two with me
all night.  He was used to sleeping with other men of
course, used to the way they move around and cry out
in their sleep, but I wasn't and at first I found it
hard to adjust to the solid warmth of him right next
to me, and the sound of his breathing and the scent of
his body.... But then he turned towards me and wrapped
his arms around me and pulled me close to him, and I
realised just how lucky nine was to have this
fantastic man taking care of him like that.  He put
his arm under my head and generally moved our bodies
until we were both comfortable.  My face was so close
to his I could feel his warm breath sighing over me,
and I just felt very content, very safe.

I woke up at about three, and realised that two was
still holding me, and that he was awake, lying there
looking at my face.  He saw me looking at him, and he
just smiled quietly and then puled me closer to him,
so that our erect dicks pressed into each other.  I
drifted back into sleep, utterly contented.  Steve.

Steve:  Sex isn't just about fucking, you know.  It
sounds to me as if you had a kind of sexual experience
with two after you'd fucked him.  He sounds a really
nice guy, to have you 'skin him, then beat the shit
out of him, then rape him again (he didn't want to do
it, did he?), and still be so gentle with you.  I
think you're falling for this slave.  Take care.  Stu.

Stu:  There you go again!  "A really nice guy",
"rape".... He's a slave, and lost the chance to be a
"really nice guy" when he was captured.  And as I've
explained before, you can't rape a slave.  And no I'm
not falling for him - "You can't be friends with a
slave", remember? But what do you know about sex -
come on, Stu, stop trying to give me advice on that
score!

But anyway, our little night of passion did seem to
have one effect -  when we got back from the route
tonight and I put the next part of my plan into
affect, the moment some of the others started a rumble
of complaint, he really laid into them, verbally and
physically, to tell them to shut up and obey.  Steve.

Steve:  Don't leave me in suspense!  What is the plan?
 Stu.

Stu:  Oh, yes - I got so caught up in the execution of
it that I forgot to mention it!  The plan is to have
all eight of the slaves to be "clones", as far as
possible.  Having the three of them 'skinned was the
first step, and then I did the rest:  I'd noticed that
nine looked so totally different, so very young, so
very vulnerable, when we'd had to shave off all his
hair because  of the crabs, and realised that if I did
the same to the eight slaves, they'd be so much alike!
 Without a trace of hair below the eyebrows, the
similarities between them would be even more
pronounced.  And, of course, without thatches of hair
on  some of their chests and bellies, you'd be able to
see their superb musculature so very much better.  So
it all had to go, every scrap, and I had the "grooms"
who normally did the clipping and shaving in for a
long session.

As  I said, there was a lot of grumbling and
complaining once they realised what was going to
happen to them, but two quelled it all and just said
that if it was my orders, then they had no choice.
And when it was all over, I think some of them quite
liked it - I saw them preening themselves in front of
one of the mirrors, admiring the way their definition
was now so much more pronounced.  I thought it showed
them off to perfection, especially as the glint of
their steel cock rings tended to draw the eye down to
their genitals - which, as I've also told you, are
pretty nice anyway (for those of us who have an eye
for such things!).    When the grooms started on the
next and final phase, though, even two looked a bit
rebellious, but when he saw me fingering my cane, he
just nodded, smiled faintly, and brought the others
into line again.

Look, it's no good having all these near-clones from
the eyebrows down, when they all had such very
different hair - some smooth, some a little coarse,
some dark, some that sexy dirty blond...  I'd thought
of having their skulls shaved as well as their bodies,
but I'm not sure I like to see men with that totally
bald look.  Some would say the differences were pretty
minor, as I always had them kept closely cropped
(which they seemed to like, anyway, as they were
ex-marines and so on), but then I hit on the ideal
solution:  I had the grooms trim and shave their heads
so that they just had a three inch strip left down the
centre - a Mohican cut, I think they used to call it.
 But then I wanted them all dyed the same colour, and
before you can do that you have to bleach all the
natural colour out, and they hated standing there with
that terrible smell of bleach hanging in the air as it
did its work.  I'd wondered whether I should have them
all black, or all blond, but somehow there's a link
between a guy's "natural" colour and his face and so
on - or perhaps I was just imagining it, as I was so
used to seeing them with their natural hair.  Anyway,
as a special touch, I had decided to have their hair
dyed really dark green, the same colour as the paint
on the dray!  I thought it would really add that final
touch, to see the dray and the slaves now so
intimately a part of a set.

When I looked at them after it was all over it was
somehow amazingly erotic - the eight big muscled men,
dicks semi-erect, with this big streak of dark green
across their skulls - I'd even had some of that wax
brushed into it, to make sure the hair stood upright,
rather like those old Roman soldiers' helmets.  And
nine looked sensational, too - even though he's
fleshed out generally and put on some muscle, he
somehow maintained that air of vulnerability, the more
so as he was contrasted with the others.  You know,
Stu, I think I might try shaving all my pubes off -
it's a look that suits our body types.  Have you ever
thought about doing it?  Steve.

Steve:  Oh my god!  You're turning into some sort of
costume artist and hairdresser!  Still, isn't
hairdressing one of those jobs that men like you go in
for?  (Joke, joke - you know I'm not prejudiced
against gay guys).  But no, I haven't thought about
shaving my pubes, although after reading a note from
you some time ago about how shaved balls are so much
better, I have been doing mine since.  You're right,
of course ,that they feel so much smoother and silky
and are so much nicer to stroke when you're jerking
yourself off.  And Mary-Lou, that first time we went
to bed, was amazed that a red-blooded guy like me
could show such consideration for his partner as to do
that - she went down on me, Steve, before we began
fucking seriously, and she said how nice it was not to
end up with hairs  trapped between her teeth!   But
I'm not sure the totally bare look would suit me - or
you! We'll both see you tomorrow, for the fair.  And I
know  I can rely on you not to break our confidences -
Mary-Lou knows we jerked off, and she's OK about that
as she knows all guys do it when they're growing up.
But please don't say you know she goes down on me -
it's another one of those things where "everyone"
knows that women do that to guys, but you just don't
talk about it.  Stu.

Stu:  Your secret's safe with me!  But if you're happy
to have Mary-Lou sucking your dick, why did you deny
yourself the pleasure with me?   We could have had so
much more fun.  And I'm told by those that have done
both that a guy really does it  SO much better than a
woman - well, he would, wouldn't he, as he knows the
effect he's causing..  Perhaps when it's "that time of
the month", or she's travelling, we might pick up
where we left off!  You see I live in hope of having
that body of yours next to mine again one day - but
there's no hurry, I can wait!

Anyway I must go now as it's time to see to the slaves
- I'm having them really clean the dray, and I mean
really clean it:  every tiny nook and cranny is being
cleaned out, and they've got to give it five coats of
polish tonight, to give it a real depth of shine.  And
finally they've got to give thmeselves the first coat
of slave oil - I want their pelts with that deep,
healthy glow tomorrow, and a good soaking tonight that
has time to go into the skin will make sure that
tomorrow morning's rub down will produce he required
effect.  I guess I'll catch up with you during the
day.  Steve.

Steve:  I think you'll have to wait a long time to get
to suck my dick!  I really love Mary-Lou, you know.
Good luck, all the best for tomorrow - you deserve to
win, all the effort you're putting in.  Stu.

Stu:  Wow, what a weekend.  I'm exhausted.  It was
good to see you and Mary-Lou and really sweet of her
to kiss all the slaves like that when you finally
found us in  the winners' enclosure:  it was so
spontaneous, so quick, that they barely had time to
react to those quick pecks on their cheeks before it
was all over!  But I know they all thought it was a
fantastic gesture, and I could tell they were excited
as they all had full erections for about an hour
afterwards!

They did look great, though, didn't they?  They shone
with that deep glow from the slave oil, and the way
their spiked green hair matched the dray so perfectly?
 I'd got permission form Jon to have the morning off
as potentially winning the competition would be such
good publicity for us, but on the morning itself he
even allocated another team to come with us!  My guys
sweated and strained to pick up their dray and put it
on the other one, so we could get to the fair grounds
without all their hard work in cleaning and polishing
the dray being destroyed by the dirt on the roads.
And they rode, too - it was a bit hard on the other
team, but it also meant that my lot kept their glossy
shine.  You know, I think this is the first time that
my slaves had done anything other than walk and run
since they'd been captured and enslaved, so it was
pretty novel for them to be sitting there on the dray
being pulled along the streets they were so familiar
with.

I was right about the "novelty" of entering a dray
instead of the usual run of pony carriages, even the
big ones that need teams of four to pull them.  And of
course my "clones" were a sensation, the more so as
nine stood there on the dray with his legs spread and
his arms above his head holding a big poster
advertising our services!  It was a bit hard on him,
actually - you try standing for an hour in an "X",
holding something high in the air, but I'd warned him
that any failure was unacceptable and that if he
faltered and cost us the prize, not only would I beat
the shit out of him but I thought the other slaves
would be pretty tough on him, too.

There was that amusing incident, too, when the judge
went to pin the first prize rosette somewhere!  I
guess the pony carriages and stuff usually have some
kind  of harness or tunic on their slaves, so he was
totally at a loss when faced with the nine completely
nude slaves of mine.  I explained hat they were all so
well trained to my voice that there was no need of
bits and harnesses, and I think I got a lot of
goodwill from him (he's pretty important in the slave
trade, and that might be a useful business contact).
In the end, I suggested he slip the elastic on the
rosette around two's dick and balls, so he was then
standing there looking as if he was wearing a fig leaf
- I think the judge enjoyed doing it, though,
especially a two went so massively hard at the first
touch!  (I'd forbidden them sex for the past two days,
and the slaves were all pretty much on edge).  I think
the press photographs are really good - all eight of
them standing there smiling, two wearing the rosette,
and nine crouching in front, still holding up our
advertising sign.  I was really proud of them, Stu.

After we'd chatted, I was kept pretty busy for the
rest of the day talking to people who came past to
inspect the winners, and all the slaves were on their
best behaviour.  Good old two asked me if they could
do something special, and for most of the day they
trotted up and down the arena giving kids (and their
parents, for the very young ones) rides on the dray.
We got a huge amount of good will from the public, and
I'm sure we'll do additional business as a result.
Some old fuddy-duddies did complain to me about the
fact that the slaves were almost continuously erect,
but although I was polite to them I did have to
explain that it didn't matter, as it was only slaves
who were on display, after all (I did feel just the
tiniest bit guilty about this as in addition to
forbidding them sex for the past tow days, I'm mixed
some Cialis tablets - those are the things that give
old men erections - into their morning feed).  I
suppose I could have allowed them to jerk off, but
there are limits still, I think:  the public will
tolerate naked slaves, but slaves stroking their dicks
in public is still a bit advanced, at leas for down
here.

When we got back to the depot, the slaves were very
tired, but happy.  And I fed them a double ration, and
gave them slave treats in appreciation.  I hung the
rosette on the door of their cage so that all the
other slaves would know that these guys were
champions, as boosting morale like that is so
important.  But then, as I was about to lock the cage
door and leave, I felt so sad - we'd trained together,
had a fantastic day as a team, and now I was going to
have to leave whereas they could continue celebrating
way into the night, together as a team.  I think two
recognised this, and he said softly to me "Aren't you
going to fuck, sir?" and when I said that I thought it
was better to leave them all together as they'd want
to celebrate with their buddies, he lowered his had
and said "but you're part of the team, sir.  You're
the team leader".  Well I think he knew that I knew
that he was not telling the entire truth - he was the
team leader, whereas I was the manager!  He was the
sergeant who made it all run smoothly, and I was the
officer who gave the orders.  He saw my reluctance,
and went on "Sir, why don't you join us?  You'll be
quite safe, sir, I'll see to that."

I trusted him, Stu.  I don't suppose there was much
real danger actually as any slave who injured or even
killed a free man would be put to death immediately
and they all knew that.  But might they think it was
worth a public whipping to gang rape me, for example?
 Still, I'm pretty impulsive sometimes, as you know,
and I did trust two - if he said he'd make sure I was
safe, I probably would be.  So I stripped off my shirt
and shorts, and went into the cage.  It was the most
amazing night of my life, Stu.  I don't know how I can
describe to you what it felt like to really be so much
part of a team of guys who had really achieved
something - it wasn't just the fact of the esprit de
corps, or that they were all so happy having had
double rations and slave treats, or that they were all
primed up and ready for a great night of sex:   each
of these things was important in itself, but it was
the combination of all of them that made it so
sensational.

At first I'd felt a bit ashamed, actually, as I knew
that my body just couldn't compare to theirs - not
even to nine's, as although he'd started off very much
like you and me, the exercise and so on had really
improved him.  So here was I, a skinny, pale guy right
in the middle of all these strong, tanned gorgeous
hunks - it was like some sot of erotic fantasy I was
having.  The only way I compared was in the dick
department, where you know I've got absolutely nothing
to be ashamed of!  It was two who really welcomed me,
though - he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me,
then dropped to his knees to take my dick in his mouth
and really excite me until I was leaking pre-cum.
Then he gently laid me down in the straw amongst the
rest of them and then it was perfectly all right - it
felt so great to be surrounded by all these fantastic
men, and soon I was rutting away with the rest of them
(and, incidentally, showing them that it wasn't only
slaves who had the stamina to fuck most of the
night!).

I woke up this morning pressed face to face with two,
with some other slave's dick pushing at my ass crack.
None of them had fucked me, of course, but I just felt
so good to have had such a bonding experience.  But
even as I lay there I knew that this couldn't be - I
could allow this one night, this special night, but
that discipline demanded that I became once more the
manager, the officer.  Two saw that I was awake, and I
kissed him gently, stroked his dick one last time,
then got to my feet and left the cage, locking it
behind me (it was pretty irrelevant to lock it at all,
actually, as none of the slaves would try to escape
really, but we did it to make sur our insurance policy
 was valid .  And, of course, it does remind the
slaves that they have no freedom.)  I saw him nodding,
as he knew that the regular order of things was
restored.  Steve.

Steve:  Wow!  And I thought I was having great sex!
Look, Steve, we want you to be the first to know.  We
haven't told anyone else yet - not even my mom and
dad.  Before I caught the train back to Atlanta on
Sunday afternoon I proposed to Mary-Lou, and she
accepted me.  She's the woman I want to spend the rest
of my life with, and there's no point in delaying.   I
know you'll be happy for us.  Stu.

Stu:  Wow!, as you say.  That's a bit sudden, isn't
it?  It's so soon after Inga. But yes, of course I'm
happy for you, for you both.  And, Stu, that's the
first time you've done it, I think - you and Mary-Lou
are "we" in your note.  I think that's a good sign for
the future.  When's the wedding?  I assume you'll want
me to be the "best man", and all that stuff about the
stag night, and the speech.....?  Steve.

Steve:  Dad was pretty upset when I called him, after
I'd e-mailed you.  He wanted me to wait until I'd
finished college.  And he says, as you did, that it
was pretty damned quick after Inga.  But the real
reason, the unspoken reason, but one we both knew we
were hovering around, is that Mary-Lou is not "one of
us", not from one of the families in the town with the
money and the power.   The fact that she's
spontaneously happy, has a great personality, gets on
well with everyone, and is a joy to be around, seems
to be of no consequence compared to the fact that her
dad isn't in the Rotary Club, her mom doesn't play at
the Bridge Club, and all that other stuff.  I hate to
say it, Steve, but my parents really are bigots - I
know now how it must have felt all those years ago
when a guy would have to tell his parents that he
wanted to marry a nigga.  Stu.

Stu:  Or, more recently, to tell HIS parents that he
wasn't going to marry anyone, not ever - for obvious
reasons!  Steve.

Steve:  Dad huffed and puffed and went on and on, and
even did the stuff you see in old movies, threatening
to cut me off without a penny.  But I didn't get
cross, and instead played him at his own game - I told
him about the way that I needed to "save" myself for
marriage, about the lord telling us about the
importance of marriage, and all that crap.  And that I
wasn't strong enough to resist the temptation of the
devil (ha, ha.... I hadn't resisted the temptation for
one second after I'd met Mary-Lou, as you know!).  He
tried to pray for me, over the phone, Steve, and it
was just as well it was "sound only" as I was able to
press the "mute" switch so he couldn't hear me
laughing.  After about ten minutes I told him that I'd
prayed to the lord, and that I'd heard the lord tell
me that it was my duty to marry Mary-Lou right now!
That's the basic problem with all this religious
stuff, isn't it - if you believe in it, someone else
can simply lie and you've no way of knowing that as
you're so used to just accepting all the religious
stuff as the truth!  But it worked for me now, and the
wedding is going to be in two weeks time - which is
just as well, as there's a little Stu on the way.
Stu.

Stu:  Oh my god!  You don't waste any time, do you?
Still, you always shot a huge load, and I guess you're
pretty fit and fertile....  Many, many
congratulations.  What do I need to do to get this
show on the road?  Kiss Mary-Lou for me, and tell her
that she can rely on me.  And that she'd better be
very careful, as if she ever does anything to upset my
oldest and best buddy, I'll never forgive her.  Steve.
 P.S.  You're making progress, so the day when as a
married man you decide to pick up on "proper" sex
again draws closer.  I'm waiting!  Steve.

(There's a gap in  the record here - I seem to
remember there was a great flurry on e-mails backwards
an d forwards as Stu didn't want to miss any classes,
and so I had to make most of the arrangements for the
wedding.  It seemed easier to file all these "wedding"
notes in a separate log, and, like all the rest of the
stuff, this was destroyed.  The one log that survived
skips these two weeks, and resumes later.)

Stu:  Can I still send notes to you, or are they now
to "Mr and Mrs"?    There might be some things I want
to tell you that I don't want Mary-Lou to hear.

I never though I'd cry at a wedding, and it wasn't
just that it felt as if I was losing you, Stu - no,
that poem of yours that you had me read out, and then
the one that you read to Mary-Lou, had almost the
whole congregation in tears.  You certainly have a
talent for understanding the human condition, and then
getting it down on paper.  But I can see now that I'm
not losing you - it will be different, sure.  You know
I was worried about that when you were going with
Inga, but with Mary-Lou I'm much less worried.  You're
so clearly happy, Stu, so deliriously, irrationally,
totally happy. And Mary-Lou is, too.  And when you
both hugged me afterwards, it was almost like that
incredible night when I truly bonded with my slaves.
Steve.

Steve:  No, old buddy, you're writing to me.  I don't
have secrets from Mary-Lou, but there might be things
I want to say, too, as you do  - or, rather, there may
be ways I want to say things - that are best kept
private between us.  I was touched and moved, Steve,
by the way you arranged everything, and by the speech
you gave at the reception.  And Mary-Lou and I were
truly delighted when we came out of the church and
there were all your slaves holding up those floral
arches for us to process under - they looked
magnificent, with those garlands of fresh flowers
hiding their collars and toning so well with the
bridal flowers.  It was a nice touch, too, to have
nine backing down the path in front of us strewing
rose petals for us to walk on.  And this time, when we
were to ride together on that dray of yours, you put
Mary-Lou in the middle as we made our way to the
reception, not as you did with Inga!  It certainly was
different, all decked out in the flowers to match the
salves' collars - although Mary-Lou says she almost
died laughing when she saw your slaves looking faintly
embarrassed by those big white satin bows you'd tied
around their dicks!

On a more serious note, I think you know that the
first poem I read out at the ceremony, where
ostensibly I'm talking about friendship and
companionship generally, was directed at you?  My poem
to Mary-Lou was personal, and if things were a little
less prejudiced, I'd have made the poem to you
personal, too.    But we both wanted you to know that
we love you, Steve.  So every time you read "Thoughts
on friendship", or every time you hear it read out - I
feel certain that it's one of my works that will echo
on down the years - remember that the "you" in it is
YOU, Steve.  All our love.  Stu.

Stu:  I feel as if my heart is almost breaking.  As
well as all the preparations for your wedding, I was
working away on a proposal and business plan for the
way that the whole of our local distribution system
ought to be reorganised.  Dad wanted me to take it to
the Board, and although I had the ideas all in place,
getting all the supporting figures and stuff together,
and then putting it into a concise presentation, a
board-level presentation, was really tough.  I'm not
used to standing up ands peaking in front of a room
full of people, either (I don't think your wedding
reception counts, as everyone there was so full of
love and happiness for you that I could have said
anything and they'd still have had tears in their
eyes!).

I was really nervous,  I can tell you, in that big
board room on  Fifth Avenue - even though dad had
rehearsed me, on the flight up  But they accepted it,
Stu:  the idea that we should go with the new "model"
I'd invented of having a ninth slave on the dray to
sort the packages and deliver the smaller ones.  The
savings were so enormous, and the benefits so
compelling!  Earlier deliveries, and a huge saving
from the disposal of surplus slaves as we needed fewer
drays, or the avoidance of future costs as purchases
of new slaves could be reduced as the business grew.

By the time we got back home, Head Office had already
issued implementation instructions, and Jon had begun.
 We had to lose four drays from that depot, and as my
dray would be without a driver because I was to move
on, it was one of those chosen:  oh yes, I haven't
told you - dad was so pleased by the work I'd put in
to prepare such a professional business plan that he
wants me to go to Harvard, as he says that the future
CEO of the company ought to be well educated.  Jon had
done the other thing I'd recommended, and all the
drivers had had to "rank" their slaves from one to
eight in terms of their ability to work, their
responsiveness, their willingness to obey orders, and
so on.  Number eight on this scale on each dray was
going to be disposed of, and his place "back filled"
from some of the slaves on the four totally surplus
drays.

A lot of my slaves "survived", Stu, but two was up for
disposal!  I argued with Jon, but he took me to one
side and talked it all through quietly.  Although two
was a superb worker and was highly valued in
organising other slaves, he'd failed disastrously on
the ranking for "willingness to obey orders".  It was
felt that although he did obey, is was more out of
personal loyalty to me rather than because of his
acceptance of his slavery.  Well, I could hardly argue
with that, could I?  And Jon pointed out that a new
driver might not be able to gain that same personal
loyalty, and then there would be a potential disaster
- so two had to be amongst the slaves they were
selling.

I told Jon that I'd buy two as my personal slave, Stu.
 But he looked at me and said straight out "No, Steve.
 I know you're pretty headstrong, but take my advice
on this one.  Listen to me, for once:  you're set for
great things, I believe.  But if you fall for a slave,
you'll never achieve your full potential.  You need
all your energy, all your efforts, to be focussed in
the next few years on climbing the corporate ladder -
although your dad is a Regional Director, that will
make it harder, if anything, rather than easier for
you.  You don't have time, Steve, to worry about a
slave like two.  Do you want to get to the end of your
life, Steve, and wonder what you might have achieved
if you'd only been totally focused?".  I wondered what
it would feel like to get to the end of my life and
wonder what it would have been like to be with two!
It was a tough call.

As I left the depot for the last time, as dad had
decided I should move to regional head office to see
how things worked there before I went to Harvard, two
was about to leave, too.  He was standing there in the
rain, his head bowed in misery, waiting for the slave
transporter to take him off to be auctioned.  I almost
went over to him, but had I done so I know I'd have
broken down and gone along with him, and bought him.
So I ignored him, Stu.  And it was the hardest thing
I've ever done.  Think of me, alone, and miserable.
Steve.

End Of Part Ten.