Date: Sat, 12 Nov 2005 03:30:38 -0800 (PST)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: Steve's First Job, Part Five

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

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

Part 5


Stu:  It was really good to see you again - but I
guess I'll have to get used to sharing my old buddy
now, with Inga.  It's a pity you cold only make it for
the weekend, and even then your mom and dad used up so
much time.  I was hoping to take you to see my slaves,
as I'm really proud of them and the way they're
shaping up.  It's a pity Inga was so very rude when we
were sitting on the porch, just like old times, and I
started to tell you about them - I don't want her to
come between you and me, Stu - our friendship goes
back too far.  But it is going to be hard, if, after
you're married, whenever we meet I can't talk about my
work.   I mean, the job a man does sort of defines
him, doesn't it?  I know she agrees with your parents
and wants you to be a pastor, like your father, or
some sort of "do gooder" in the anti-slavery league.
And I suppose that's only like my dad wanting me to be
a successful businessman, like him, really.  But what
do you want., Stu?  Surely now that you're away
studying you'll have had your eyes opened a bit -
being a dirt-poor pastor down here isn't the way you
were meant to spend your life, I'm sure:  you're
cleverer than that.... almost as intelligent as I am!

Anyway, as the Scandinavian wouldn't really let me
talk to you as a buddy, let me just catch up and tell
you where I'm at.  After that fuck of two, the
ex-sergeant, the next morning when I had all the
slaves neatly lined up, kneeling there with their
backs straight and their butts resting on their heels,
hands clasped behind them ready for feeding, I went
along the line with the feeder and gave them all their
morning ration of chow.  I couldn't resist the
temptation to further humiliate two by pretending to
wrinkle my nose from the faint smell of shit coming
from his hair - just to remind him, if a reminder was
needed, that last night I'd fucked him - no, I'd done
better than that, I'd taken his cherry, as I'm sure
he'd never allowed another guy that pleasure - and
then wiped my dick clean on his head.   Then I turned
and addressed them all, reminding them of the new
rules - that they were not to have any, and I meant
any, sexual contact of any kind without my express
prior authorisation.  I then went to say "But as we
saw last night, you're not to be trusted - two and
four were only punished as examples to the rest of
you:  I know most of you jerked yourselves off, and I
want to warn you that if there's any repetition, next
time it won't just be the cane, but a visit to the
whipmaster.  And as you're all so untrustworthy, and
can't be relied on not to play with yourselves at
night, I'm going to try to make it a bit easier for
you:  from now on, you are all absolutely forbidden to
touch your own dicks and balls and asses at any time,
any time at all.  If you are seen touching those parts
of yourself, you will be flogged.  So whenever your
hands move towards your dicks, you'd all better stop
and think!"

I told them they could then all stand, and they did,
facing me at "attention" (I'd found it relatively easy
to use the military stances), so I gave the order for
them to turn to the right, and march off to the
showers.  It seemed to help them to march like this,
although there couldn't be a lot of "stamping" as
their feet were now bare as I'd decided that having
them wear work boots, as some draymen allowed their
teams to do, was more trouble for me than it was
worth.  It was surprising how quickly the soles of
their feet had toughened up and they now had a layer
of thick, horny skin over them.  Jon had advised me
about this, saying that although it made the slaves
look a lot more sexy to be working naked except for
boots, it also tended to make them less  careful with
our clients' packages we were supposed to be
delivering, as they could be less careful and toss
them around knowing that if a package dropped, it
would be unlikely to break their toes!    As you know,
I'm determined to have the absolutely best team in the
depot, so I had to forgo the erotic pleasures of
seeing these big guys just in their boots as there's
no way I was going to allow them to be "sloppy"  in
their work!

I like watching the slaves shower in the morning
anyway - there are always two or three sets of them in
there, and it's a good opportunity to look over the
"competition", as well as being able to have a chat to
the other draymen as we wait whilst the slaves clean
themselves - they have their morning piss and shit on
the way in, as there's an area about three feet wide
covered with bars, and the slaves crouch there and
crap and piss before moving on in to the shower area
itself.  My guys kind of clustered together as they
usually do and began to wash, and I watched carefully
so that the moment one of them went to start soaping
his pubes, I could rap out "Stop!  You fucking slaves
- it's only about two minutes ago I absolutely forbad
you to touch your own dicks!  Did you all empty your
brains away down the grating as you dropped your
turds?"  They looked puzzled, and tried to get on as
usual without touching their dicks, and when they
looked as if they were finished and were starting to
move out of the spray, I snapped at them "You fucking
slaves - you're still dirty!  No team of mine is going
to go around with dirty asses and dicks - clean
yourselves!"  I saw their look of puzzlement grow, and
so I went on "You're not allowed to touch your own
dicks and asses, but that doesn't mean you can't help
out one of your buddies - I want to see you all
soaping a dick, and an ass, and I want to see it NOW!"

I did feel a bit sorry for them - I mean, they never
showed the slightest trace of embarrassment at
showering together, as I guess that's what they were
used to in their barracks all their lives as soldiers,
but they went to almost fanatical lengths to avoid
touching each others bodies as they did so.  Perhaps
it's something the marines teach them, perhaps they're
all afraid that if two  big husky marines touch each
others flesh in the showers, they'll realise that they
prefer the manly feel of another marine to a woman;
who knows!.  Anyway, I had noticed they all never
touched in the showers, and now they had to stand
there and not only touch each other  as you sometimes
see football players and so on do after a match, with
arms around their shoulders, but that they were going
to have to soap each others dicks, massage another
guy's balls, and even slide their soapy fingers down
their buddies' ass cracks to clean them out after the
morning crap!  They started slowly at first, all very
hesitant and tentative, and then they began joking
about it as their soapy fingers slid along their
buddies' dicks and probed down those magnificent
muscled butts, and after a very few minutes it was as
if they'd always been together like that in the
showers.

They came towards me again then, smiling and grinning,
but I told them to halt.  I called two to the front,
and said curtly "Are you properly clean?" and he said
yes, and I rapped out "Liar!  How dare you think you
can try to deceive me - I've been watching you, and
seven, who soaped your dick, never 'skinned you back
and did a proper job!"   I ordered seven over and told
him to kneel in front of two, then, as we all watched,
I told two to clasp his hands behind his neck to keep
them well out of the way, and then seven to take his
buddy's dick, and this time to wash it properly,
making sure there was no unpleasantness lurking under
the 'skin.  I could see two gritting his teeth in a
mixture of frustration and shame as seven shyly held
two's dick in the palm of one hand, and then gently
moved his 'skin back so that we could all see the
darker-coloured, moist head lying there.  Two almost
wriggled and squirmed as seven teased and fiddled with
his 'skin and head, and I knew he would be so
embarrassed as he was exposed to view like this -
someone once told me that it's the ultimate nakedness
for a guy with a 'skin, to have to expose his head to
view, in a way that us cut guys just can't appreciate.
 It was good - another step on two's road to complete
slavedom, as he realised that even this last shred of
his personal privacy was no longer under his control,
but mine.

That night, Jon and I fucked another two of them, and
the good thing about that - apart from the fun it gave
us, of course - was that the four who we hadn't yet
covered came to realise that it was only a matter of
time and that their turn was going  to come.  I also
observed two standing there clutching the bars, his
whole body language screaming out rage and anger at
what we were doing to what he clearly regarded as
"his" men.  Still, it was good to see that whether
because of the threat of punishment, or because he was
coming to realise that as a slave he had no effective
control over what was going to happen, he remained
silent.  When we'd finished that and put the two
slaves back into the cage, I stood there outside the
bars and commanded them to kneel in a line, as if I
was going to feed them.  When they were all there, I
told them that I'd decided to give them a small reward
as they'd all worked extremely hard on the exercise
machines that afternoon, and that therefore they'd be
allowed to have sex.  I saw them all instantly cheer
up at the prospect of being allowed to jerk off, but
then their looks changed to completely stunned shock
and outrage as I said "So get to it - but, remember,
you're not allowed to touch yourselves, so simply lean
over and do the guy next to you."

It was two as usual - he was in the middle of the
line, as if to act as the focus of all of them - and
he said, quite politely, I suppose, but with a hint of
irony in his voice "Thank you so much, sir.  But we'd
prefer not to have sex now."  I looked at them, and
said, quietly, "Does two speak for all of you?", and
they all nodded and murmured assent. To emphasise how
wrong they were, I slashed my cane vigorously across
the bars in front of them.  "You fuckers are slaves!",
I rapped. "And the sooner you get to remember it, the
better and easier it will be for all of you.  If your
owner tells you that you will have sex, you will have
sex.  You have no choice.  You all agreed with two,
and his wrong-headed thinking  has earned you all a
punishment.  Stand up, grip the bars in front of you,
and push your butts backwards."

They to their feet and stood there, knuckles clenched
as they gripped the bars, and looking nervously at
each other, wondering what was going to happen next.
I summoned up all my courage and opened the cage and
went in, scuffing my feet through the straw, and
examining the bodies lined up in front of me. I went
along the row, slapping at the butts of some of them
who had not thrust them out far enough, and then said
"Remember, it's disobeying me, preferring to listen to
two, that has got you in this position!"  I then went
down the line again, this time  slashing out  at their
butts with my punishment cane, laying one hard stroke
across each half of each of the slaves' butts.  The
anguished cries of the first ones as I worked my way
down the line made it far worse, probably, for the
ones at the other end who had to stand there, gripping
the bars, with their anticipation adding to the pain
they knew they would suffer.  But their training was
working, and none of them let go of the bars, and when
I'd finished I walked out of the cage and locked the
gate behind me.  "Right!", I called out, "Before I
needed to punish you, I gave you an order.  Now, get
in line, and jerk off the guy next to you."

They were still reluctant, and I saw a lot of them
instinctively look towards two, as if for guidance.
But it was clear that he'd given in - or had decided
that he didn't want to get any more punishment meted
out to them - as he just shook his head slightly as if
in resignation, and knelt down into the straw and then
reached out for the dick of the guy on his left.  It
all took a surprisingly long time, actually, as some
of the guys didn't immediately get an erection when
one of their buddies began to stroke them, and
following that, some guys do take a long time when
they're jerking off anyway, don't they?   But I did
have eight nice slimes of cum sprayed out from the
cage to lie there, wet and white, shining under the
lights, on the concrete of the pathway.  As they
watched, I walked along, inspecting their productions,
and I told them that for slaves, they'd produced a
reasonable quantity but that I was not pleased with
the time it had taken and that this was perhaps
something we should practice.  That produced another
lot of anxious stares at two, who now had difficulty
in meeting the eyes of the other slaves.


Apart from the times when I was directly "training" my
slaves and the time spent discussing them with Jon,
this was a pretty boring time for me:  the exercise
machines were almost automatic so for long stretches
of the day I had nothing to do.  We couldn't move on
to having me take my dray out, as we were waiting for
delivery of a new one from the makers in Tulsa, and
there didn't seem to be any way we could speed up the
process, in spite of my almost daily phone calls to
them.  Things only really got interesting in the
evenings when I furthered my plan to sexually
subjugate the slaves by fucking them, and after
another couple of days Jon and I had done all eight
between us.  These men, all of whom had previously
thought they were "straight" now knew what it was like
to experience a dick, and it was interesting to
compare their reactions.  Two was bitterly resentful
and angry, four was just a wimp, and the others all
varied - interestingly, two of the men didn't seem to
object at all as I mounted them on the horse, and when
I offered them my dick to slather and lube, they
sucked at it eagerly and with obvious relish.  And
instead of screaming and raging at the indignity of my
taking their cherry, I found their asses almost
welcomed me, and the only sounds were their sighs and
moans of sexual excitement.  I was so surprised by
this behaviour that I went back to the office and took
another look at their personnel files which we'd got
from the Pentagon, and to my astonishment found they
were both married with a couple of kids each.  I asked
Jon about this and he just smiled and told me it was
pretty normal - the marines were full of men who
actually liked sex with other men but who had to
conform to the norms of the service and who therefore
married and fathered kids, whilst taking every
opportunity to really enjoy their buddies when on an
overseas posting, or a training exercise, or similar.

I noticed that the two slaves who enjoyed proper sex,
five and eight, always seemed to be sleeping next to
each other so that they could experience each other,
and that when told to "line up" they took trouble to
get next to each other so that if I ordered the slaves
to jerk off their neighbour, they'd be together.  And
it was to these two who facilitated my next step:
almost as if under the control of two, or afraid of
him, the other slaves never asked if they could be
allowed to jerk off or anything, and their sexual
release mostly came when I ordered one of the mass
jerk-offs, or decreed a "free" night when they could
do as they wished.  But one day this all changed, and
when I asked my customary question, eight suddenly
asked if he and five could fool around together that
night.  I saw two give them a coldly furious look, as
if he saw this as some sort of gross disloyalty to
him, and later I went over to the security lodge and
asked to see the tapes of the early evening in the
cage, to see what happened once I'd locked them all in
and left.

Two, five and eight were having a furious argument,
with two accusing the others of letting down the
service, and of being fags.  Five and eight really
tore into him, though, pointing out that he wasn't
living in the real world - they were no longer
Marines, just slaves, and different rules applied
here.  They told him that they had little enough fun
in their lives as slaves, and that they were going to
enjoy themselves when they could, with each other.
Five put his arm around eight, and in full sight of
two they kissed - only briefly, admittedly, but it
seemed to me to be a pretty courageous thing to do.  I
thought two was going to lash out at them physically,
and a couple of the others had to restrain him for a
few moments, but then it all seemed to quieten down
and five and eight found a space for themselves right
against the back wall of the cage.  I watched with
interest as they kissed and fondled each other, then
kissed more passionately as they stroked at each
others dicks - they could almost have been Jon and me,
as if anyone had been eavesdropping on our encounters
in his room they'd have seen substantially the same
behaviour.  I couldn't help noticing that most of the
other slaves were rigidly silent and still whilst all
this was going on, as if they were listening and
observing five and eight, and there was an almost
palpable air of tension around the cage until the two
lovers finally fired their loads and fell into an
exhausted sleep, arms and legs companionably
intertwined.


It was time then for two's next "lesson" and I was
quite looking forward to having those big strong
thighs spread in front of me with his pucker waiting
my attention - I'd decided I was going to fuck him
"buckaroo" again, even though that might be pretty
violent because of the way two threw himself around
against the restraints, as his obvious hate of what
was happening to him really turned me on.   I was
however not confident that another fucking - or even a
series of further fuckings - would finally "break"
him, but what other choice did I have?  I was mulling
this over in my mind when I remembered eight and five,
and my choices suddenly expanded.

That night I went down to the cage, alone this time,
without Jon, and ordered two to come out as I thought
it would add to his humiliation if he actually had to
drag the heavy punishment horse over to where the
others could see, rather than me doing it.  He stood
there then, looking so very unhappy as he evidently
thought he knew what was going to happen next, and was
therefore very surprised when, instead of ordering him
to lie on the horse, I instead briskly told him to
turn around, and then to raise his hands behind his
neck.  I used the restraint cuffs from my belt to hold
his hands in position then, using the D ring on his
collar to hold the cuffs in place.    He began to look
puzzled, the more so when I ordered eight out of the
cage, locking it carefully behind him, and then put
eight onto the horse and fastened the ankle and wrist
restraints.

I kept two standing there as he and the other slaves
watched me use some of the sun oil they were
accustomed to, to thoroughly lube and stretch eight's
ass.  Then I slathered my palm once more with oil, and
went and oiled two's dick - he was used to this by
now, from the regular morning's activities before
exercising, and so raised little objection until,
suddenly, the realisation of what I had in mind must
have struck him.  As I stroked the oil into his dick
he suddenly said "No, sir, you can't make me do this.
I won't."   I slapped his dick with my open palm, just
catching his balls as I did so, and he winced with
pain. "Won't is a word that slaves do not use, two.
It's not even a word that ought to be in their
vocabulary.  You will do whatever I say, or take the
consequences."

He pulled himself up to his full height and flexed his
muscles and said quietly "Sir, I won't fuck another
guy.  And you can't make me.  There's no way you can
make one man fuck another."  I just smiled, and
stroked his dick again to make it go properly hard,
and then neatly slipped his 'skin back so that his
moist dick head popped out and I could oil that, too.
"See, two - we're already almost there.  Like all men,
you can't help throwing a wood with the proper
stimulation.  And now all I need to do is take you
over to eight, and present you to him, and then you
can fuck away...."

I took firm hold of his dick and balls, and with that
kind of "encouragement" I moved him, hugely
reluctantly, over to where eight was still lying, ass
open and waiting.   But when we got real close, two
began to resist, and in spite of my strong pressure on
his balls he just wouldn't move - his features were
all screwed up as he suffered that terrible pain you
have when your balls are under attack, but it was
clear that he was not going to move any further, in
spite of my insistence.  I realised I was in trouble
now - I suppose I could have caned two's rump until it
was red and bleeding, but even then he might still
resist, as he had that dreadful totally stubborn look
on his face;  and if he did, I would have demonstrated
to all the watching slaves that two had bested me, and
it was his determination that had won out.  That might
mean that I would have to move to the next stage of
punishment and order a public  whipping for him, and
that I didn't want to do, as the skin of the back,
buttocks and thighs never really properly recovers and
my team of dray slaves just wouldn't look good.

I'd begun to wish that I'd never started this, but I'm
a pretty creative guy, and at once an alternative
solution presented itself, knowing, as I did, that two
regarded himself as something of a "sergeant" and felt
 responsible for the others.  It was too bad for eight
that he had got caught up in all of this, but then,
that's life, I thought, as I took my punishment cane
from its holster and began to methodically beat
eight's butt.  His screams were piteous - usually, as
I've told you, I only give slaves like eight a couple
of strokes as he's generally well behaved, but this
time my cane rose and fell twenty times, across both
his butt and his thighs, before I stopped and paused
for breath.  There was stunned silence in the room,
except for the sobbing of eight, and I didn't have to
raise my voice to make myself heard by all of them.
"Right, two, this is all up to you now.  I've punished
eight for your failure to obey me:  you slaves should
understand that I treat you as a team, and if one
member of the team fails to perform in any way
whatsoever, the whole team, or any member of it, can
be punished.  Now, stop resisting me, and come over
and fuck eight.  If you fail to do this, he'll be
beaten again.  And I'll go on beating him until you
obey me."

Two just stood there, shaking his head slowly, whether
from disbelief in what I'd said, or in defiance, I'm
not sure which.  So I took the cane up again and gave
eight six more stripes cross his already battered
butt, then said "And now six more, to the thighs....".
 I was gratified to hear two call out "No!  Please,
don't, sir....." And I stayed my arm, holding the cane
high in the air, ready to strike down immediately if I
was displeased.   "Please, sir, if you're going to
punish  me, punish me!", two went on, sounding very
anguished.  "It's not fair to punish eight for
something that I've done....".  I struck down hard on
eight's thighs, once on each, causing him to scream
again, and then in the silence broken only by his
continuing sobbing, looked at two again and said "Two,
you don't understand, do you?  You're all just slaves,
and there's no such thing as being 'fair' to a slave!
You're all just my property, and I'll treat you all
any way I want.  But if you're really concerned about
'fairness', you ought to consider yourself - are you
being 'fair' to eight by making him suffer this agony,
when it's you who is failing to obey a simple order?
You can make this stop, you know, simply by behaving
as a slave should and obeying me.  Now, before I start
on eight again - and I think it might be interesting
to tawse his calves this time, as an interesting
variant on the pain he's already in - just get over
here and fuck him!  You know it's not a problem for
him, as he likes taking dick.  So obey."

To tell you the truth, Stu, I began to get worried as
two continued to stand there, still shaking his head
in that curious way, as if he was almost stunned by
what he'd seen me do.  I was only marginally afraid
that two would attack me, as he was pretty helpless,
with his hands cuffed behind his head.  But I didn't
want to have to carry on beating eight, as there's no
point in permanently damaging a slave, is there?  And
yet, if two continued to disobey me, what choice would
I now have after I'd started down this route?  Any
backing off by me and all the slaves would see that
two was the stronger man and my authority would be
ruined.  I unclipped the tawse from my belt, and
repositioned myself a little further forward by the
side of eight, as you need a longer "throw" and
different angle to use the tawse effectively rather
than the cane.  I raised my arm, and to my great joy,
heard two call out "No, sir, please, don't..."

I stopped, and gestured to two to move forward.  In
spite of the incredible sexual charge in the air and
the ring around his dick and balls, he'd gone soft,
and I wondered if this was some new form of subtle
defiance of my will.  So I grabbed his dick and began
to jerk him quite harshly, 'skinning him back and
raking my nails across his sensitive head as I did so.
 He did, of course, go stiff, and leading him by his
dick as if it was a convenient handle, I moved him
right up to stand between eight's spread-eagled
thighs, and then did that thing that I find incredibly
sexy:  I moved two's dick head up and down the smooth,
sweaty crack between eight's butt cheeks, so two would
feel that incredible sensation in his manhood.
Eight's sobs were turning into small gasps of pleasure
as I did this, and my own dick was tenting my shorts,
I can tell you!    Two seemed both reluctant and
excited, but his dick was gratifyingly hard in my
hands, so I finally stopped and positioned it right on
top of eight's dark pucker.  "OK, two - in you go!", I
said cheerily, but the big male just stood there, and
I worried that at this last hurdle my plan would even
now fail.  I wasn't going to have another "discussion"
with him, so as he stood there, almost frozen with
indecision, I quickly raised my cane and slashed at
his butt.

Two hadn't seen it coming at all, and he surged
forward with the shock of the cane's stroke, forcing
his dick into eight almost all the way.  Eight gave a
satisfyingly loud cry of pain and pleasure as two's
dick skewered him, and two's own cry of surprise,
outrage and pain only added to my excitement.  Two was
now right up against eight, his thighs in close
contact with the aching flesh of the guy on the horse,
and I now went and stood right behind two, so that he
could feel the cloth of my clothing pressing against
his naked body.  I gently rubbed the stinging marks on
his butt, as I said into his ear, quietly, "Now, two,
it's not so bad, is it?  Don't you like the feel of
that hot, moist ass gripping your dick?  So are you
going to be sensible now and do as you're told, or do
I have to punish you and eight again - I know you
don't care personally, but think about eight there:  I
don't think his ass and thighs can take much more of
the cane!"
I could feel his whole body tense as he thought about
it, and I pressed home my advantage, not waiting for
his reply.  "Come on, boy, just ease yourself back,
and then go forward slowly again...", I whispered, at
the same time gripping his firm muscled hips with my
hands and gently pulling him backwards.

Of course once he'd got started like this, and had
felt that exciting stimulation of his dick by an ass,
I had no more problems.  I stood there, "guiding" two
in and out, at first somewhat reluctantly, but then,
as the inevitable excitement of sexual stimulation
took over, I was able to stand back and watch two
begin to thrust more and more vigorously into eight.
It was almost amusing, actually, to see this stud, who
had protested so vigorously about engaging in proper,
man on man, sex taking to it so readily!  He was soon
really slamming into eight, totally disregarding the
effects on the poor guy's caned butt as his body
slammed into the flesh with that characteristic
slapping noise.  Eight's own satisfied moaning as two
had begun so gently now turned back into cries of real
passion - you know how it is, when you're really
hurting, but you're gripped by the overwhelming
enjoyment that only a dominating, controlling dick can
bring to some men.

In spite of two's apparent acceptance of what he had
been made to do, I was glad that I had taken the
precaution of cuffing his wrists to his collar, as
once he'd finished and pulled out of eight he wasn't
able to touch himself, and had to stand there with his
dick slimed with his cum and eight's ass juices, as a
couple of last drops of cum gently oozed their way out
of his piss slit.  I could see all the other slaves
looking at him through the bars of the cage, and he
could see them too, of course, and would know that
they could see this indisputable evidence that he'd
fucked another guy.  I took pity on him, though, and
knowing that it's uncomfortable to have your hands
cuffed like that for a long period of time, I went
behind him and slowly undid the cuffs, whilst
whispering, so that the other slaves couldn't hear,
"So, two, that wasn't so bad, was it?  In fact,
watching you, it looked as if you were quite enjoying
it!  If you were to ask me, I'd say that you realised
that you actually like the feeling of an ass gripping
your dick..... But, anyway, it doesn't matter:  what
does matter is that you're a slave, and if I tell you
to fuck one of the other slaves, in future you'll
obey.  The only consequence if you don't will be a
whole lot more unnecessary pain and suffering for your
companions - just think, if you hadn't defied me, you
could have fucked eight without having made him go
through all that unnecessary pain.  Remember that, and
act properly in future!"

I made two undo eight from the horse, and then I
watched as two tried to apologise to the guy as they
walked back into the cage - two had to help eight, as
he could barely stand upright from the beating he'd
received, and two was kind of slumped as he shepherded
his companion along, as if he was ashamed of what he'd
done.  But was he ashamed of having fucked eight, or
of having put eight through that beating?  I just
couldn't tell.  Still, I went home that night really
pleased that I'd made real progress at last - as I
left, I told all the slaves that they were free to
fuck or do anything else they wanted to that night,
and I was looking forward to reviewing the video tapes
the next morning to see what they got up to.

Look, Stu, you're not being a very good correspondent
recently - I'm writing all this stuff to you and
although my life must be pretty exciting at this
point, surely there are things you're doing that are
worth reporting to your old buddy..... Steve.

Steve:  Sorry, mate, but I'm just so overwhelmed with
all the work here at the moment.  It's OK for you to
sit down and type a few pages to me, but I have to
spend hours at the PC anyway, researching and writing
my class papers, and when I've got time to relax all I
want to do is go over to the gym and throw myself into
some hard physical exercise.  And anyway, compared to
your life, mine is pretty dull -  classes all time,
then study groups, writing the fucking papers:  it's a
real slog.,  And no slaves to do it for me.  And such
spare time as I do have I'm spending with Inga, of
course - sorry, buddy, but the thrills of writing to
you just don't compare with being with Inga.  But
don't worry - I'm not going to give up on you:  I love
Inga, and I think we're going to get hitched, but
that's no reason why we can't carry on hanging out
together and "talking" like this.  Do tell me what
else is going on.  Stu.

Stu:  Well, the next big excitement is that my dray
has arrived!  When I got to the depot the next morning
I never got chance to review the tapes of the cage
from that night as I was told that overnight it had
come by the long-distance carrier.  It's a kit they
send you, really - the big, long flat bed, the sides
that need to be screwed on, the axles have to be
fitted into their brackets underneath, the wheels
bolted on to the axles, and then the driver's seat
fitted, to top it all off:  I don't know if you've
really looked at a working dray, Stu, but there's a
nice driving seat at the front, high up above the
slaves, so you can get good access to the backs and
butts of both rows of slaves when you need to
"encourage" them with the driving whip.  And before
you start writing to me again about how "cruel" it is
to whip the slaves, relax - it's not a whip in the
sense of the bull whips they use when a slave is
really being punished.  No, it's more of an
"inducement" to them to keep working away - a very
long, thin flexible cane with just a couple of feet of
leather strap at the end:  it stings, really stings,
when it makes contact, but does no permanent damage at
all.  Most draymen don't really use it much at all, as
it's more of a "show" thing to reassure pedestrians
and customers that you're properly in control of the
slaves.  But of course it can come in useful when
you've got a full dray and you get to that big hill on
Piney Ridge Road - they tell me that even the
strongest teams begin to falter as they get about
three quarters of the way up, and you just need to
"encourage" them then so that their bodies give up the
residual energy the brain keeps locked away against
emergencies.  It's another of those things in the
management of slaves here: as Jon says, "you need to
be cruel to be kind".  What he means, I guess, is that
without the carriage whip the slaves would falter and
stumble, and then the dray might even start to slide
backwards, and they might get hurt.  It's kinder to
them to "encourage" them to get to the top, to avoid
all of that.

When I got to the cage, though, and had the slaves
come out and kneel to be fed, it was obvious there'd
been some vigorous "discussion" the previous night,
after I'd left:   two was sporting a huge black eye,
and his butt and back were bright red and there were
various other bruises all over him.  It seemed to me
that the others had perhaps "paid him back" for having
put eight through all that totally unnecessary
suffering.  I resolved to go and look at the tapes as
soon as I could, as I would be intrigued to see
whether they had just beaten him, or had gone the
whole way and fucked him, too - I wasn't going to ask,
of course, as a drayman normally doesn't show concern
for the physical well-being of his slaves, except or
at the morning physical inspection.  I got a
particular pleasure from really squeezing two's body
as I did this daily ritual, feeling him wince and
shuffle as my fingers probed at the red patches and
bruises that covered him, and gasp as he tried to
suppress any sign that he was in pain.  Then, when I
ran my finger around his collar, as I always do, and
asked him about the black eye, he just mumbled "I
stumbled in the cage, sir, and fell awkwardly against
the bars."  I smiled inwardly to myself at this
pathetic attempt to conceal from me that he'd taken a
beating from his colleagues, and was pleased that the
other slaves had shown him their displeasure - two was
such a big guy that I doubted that he could have been
than damaged if almost all the others had to ganged up
on him.

I thought they all deserved a reward, so I told them
to kneel again in a line, and went down putting a tiny
"slave treat" into each mouth as they lolled their
tongues out eager to receive it.  I don't suppose
you've ever been into a shop that specialises in slave
accessories - uniforms, punishment devices, that sort
of stuff - but amongst the other things they sell are
these "treats" which you can use to reward your slave
when he's done particularly well and gone beyond what
you'd hope a slave would naturally do.  They about the
size of a cent coin, but very thin, and are just some
sort of hard wafer impregnated with the most intense
fruit flavour.  You drop one of them on the slave's
tongue and he at once gets his mouth filled with a
taste that he's forgotten (assuming you feed the
salves on concentrated chow, as we do), and they start
to salivate and lick their lips and so on.  They
really enjoy it, and it does them no harm as it's just
the flavour, so sugar or anything.  Of course you need
to use them sparingly, as although they are
inexpensive (about fifty for a dollar) they really
should only be used exceptionally - I mean, a slave's
standard of performance ought to be exemplary,
oughtn't it?  You don't want the slave to get into his
mind that every job completed deserves a reward - just
on those occasions when, like now, they'd done
something exceptional.

Finally, I told them that they could prepare the dray
for action, instead of having another day on the
exercise machines, and they almost cheered at this
welcome break in their routine.

I'll write again later, Stu, as I want to go and visit
Jon.  Steve.

End Of Part Five