Date: Thu, 26 Jun 2008 22:33:53 GMT
From: "anonymous4371@juno.com" <anonymous4371@juno.com>
Subject: The VOLUPTUARY - Part IV (Gay Authoritarian)

THE VOLUPTUARY

by Bill Smith (anonymous4371@juno.com)

Part IV

CHAPTER 17

THE PARTY BEGINS


     Sucker was gasping for air along with the other galley slaves in his
team after the tenth run taking guests up the river to the master's
mansion.  Being a pure black, he had been chosen to be a galley slave for
the party due to his muscular physique, his long, thick organ, and the fact
he looked like the master envisioned galley slaves should look.  Sucker
squirmed on the thick dildo built into the rowing benches he and the other
galley slaves had been impaled on.  The whip weals from the galley's driver
(a well-built white unshaven slave for contrast) were smarting as the heavy
sweat rolled down his back and rump, mixing with small amounts of blood
elicited by the constant whip.  Like all the other black slaves assigned to
be galley slaves that night, stenciled in white on his black hide front and
back was a big three-digit number (the white drivers were similarly
stenciled in black) so the guests could write it down if they wanted to use
him later in the evening after all the guests had been delivered and he had
been cleaned inside and out. Since the thick dildo made sure he was hard at
all times, it was easy for the guests to evaluate what they would be
getting if they chose that particular slave - each one was totally naked,
body shaved, and fully erect.  (But even the drivers were naked and hard so
they too could be assessed for later usage.)  Sucker wondered how many more
runs they would have to make at full speed under the snapping whip and how
many guests had written his particular number down on their little pads. If
more than a few jotted his number down, it promised to be a long evening.

     All the guests enjoyed their speedy, but brief ride in the small
galleys David Holgate had had constructed for the party, each propelled by
a small team of eight pure black slaves who were all handsome, extremely
muscular, and all sporting very large, circumcised, and fully erect
phalluses. There were six of these galleys, all exactly alike, speeding
back and forth across the river from the parking area to the edge of the
grounds of David Holgate's brand new mansion taking the 100 or so invited
guests to the party that night.

     Once a guest arrived on shore, there were a convoy of litters to take
each guest separately to the mansion's entrance. Each litter had four blond
bearers, each with long flowing hair and a pencil line beard and mustache,
but fully body shaved with that exception. Each of the four bearers were
chained to their assigned litter by their prominent nose ring and each had
been fitted with a long, thick butt plug so their asses churned with each
step they took. Signs at the litter station invited each of the guests to
use the bearers before or after alighting the litters in any way they
pleased and many guests were doing just that.  Since each guest was
assigned an individual litter, they could choose any one of the four blond
beauties available to them or indeed use all four if they wanted to. And,
if none of those four suited them for some reason, they could always choose
another litter. Most of the guests couldn't resist the offer and, at the
very least, stroked or fondled their bearers' tits, balls, prick, or
muscles; at the most, the bearers were fucked in place, nose ring still
chained to the litter or on their knees sucking the guest or, in a few
cases, especially with the female guests, called upon to fuck the guests
(although the latter two activities required his nose ring being
temporarily unchained from the litter and replaced with a leash). All of
this held up the rapid transference of guests from the dock to the mansion,
especially since each guest was assigned to an individual litter, but the
Holgate stewards had foreseen this difficulty and had thoughtfully provided
plenty of litters so there was no backlog no matter how many blond slaves
were sucking guests off, being fucked, standing in position being fondled,
or put to fucking themselves.  Like the galley slaves, each litter bearer
had been stenciled in a large three-digit number front and back so a guest
could jot his number down for later use whether or not he was using the
slave before or after being conveyed in the litter.

     Driver was one of several litter overseers, being chosen for this task
due to his contrasting brown skin as well as his skill in handling
slaves. He was surprised how many of the guests were using the first piece
of slave meat they could get their hands on, the blond litter bearers, and
more than half of the bearers currently didn't have a litter on their
shoulders - they were on their knees sucking a guest off; on their hands
and knees getting fucked, flat on their back getting fucked, or fucking a
guest one way or another.  This meant the other half of the bearers were in
constant use actually toting the guests to the mansion door and were
rapidly beginning to show signs of fatigue at the fast pace demanded.
Driver solved the fatigue problem by chaining a blond slave to the litter
poles the instance a guest was through using him and pulling an exhausted
bearer off the poles to be used by the next batch of incoming guests for a
little relief. The rotation' system worked well.  The tension and strain of
hefting the litters was alleviated by the quite different demands of being
used sexually - different muscles were utilized, but sweat and heavy
breathing were almost constant either way.

     Driver mused at how these eager guests didn't seem to understand the
delights that awaited them inside the mansion - once they saw that, they
would probably wished they had waited.  Nevertheless, plenty of guests were
writing down numbers whether or not they had used a particular slave - it
seemed muscular, well hung blonds appealed to everyone.  That he could
understand.  He too was attracted to blonds for some reason or another, and
since belonging to Master Holgate, had finagled his master into using him
as a trainer for new blonds, thus getting to use some of them himself from
time to time.  He wondered if any of the guests recognized Master Holgate's
main chauffeur without his tight pants and the fancy Maybach.  Somehow, he
looked entirely different clothed' than naked and separated from the car as
he was presented now. He too had a three-digit number stenciled in white on
his brown skin and he wondered how many of the guests had written his
number down, perhaps not realizing they would end up fucking Master
Holgate's personal chauffeur (or being sucked off by or even, with a few,
being fucked by).  If so, taking into account he was in charge of making
sure all the litter bearers were cleansed inside and out as soon as the
last guests had been delivered to the mansion's entrance via the litters
and then placed into the system where number requests by the guests could
begin to be filled as demanded, it could be a very long evening indeed.  He
hoped Master Holgate didn't plan too many trips the next day in the Maybach
- it would be hard keeping alert - but, then, he thought, Master Holgate
would probably be up just as long as he was due to the party.  The big
difference, however, was his master wouldn't be at the beck and call of his
guests as Driver might be. Driver knew from long experience it was a lot
more tiring getting fucked and sucking from a long series of masters and
mistresses commanding every move on his part than being the one giving the
orders for whatever you wanted at the time.  That, he understood fully, was
the difference between being owned and being the owner.

     Inside the house itself, the ten slaves to be given away that night
stood in readiness.  Each had been given a complete series of enemas, body
shaved, and coated with a fresh coat of glistening slave oil.  As Master
Holgate had specified earlier to his stewards, each were fresh arrivals
from his breeding farm, all were of prime marketable age (17-18), all had
received full slave training including complete training in sexual use of
their bodies, all knew nothing but slavery of course, being bred; and all
(2 girls and 8 boys in a variety of colors) wore nothing other than their
slave collars and the Holgate brands to give them an unused, innocent look
(the "illusion of virginity" as Master Holgate had described it).  Each of
the 10 knew they were the "prizes" of the evening and would shortly have a
new master or mistress - who picked the lucky lottery tickets would
determine their life from now on, whether it be a bored middle aged
mistress looking for an inexhaustible stud for her bed, a sadistic teenager
interested only in seeing how much pain they could endure, a rich farmer
looking for a stalwart pony to pull him around his estate, a construction
magnate looking for a handsome worker he could also use every night in his
bed, a bordello keeper looking for new stock, or a supercilious dandy
looking for a striking display slave he could flaunt wherever he went.

     Aztec and El Greco had been assigned to waiting table at the banquet
that night, each being assigned a particular guest.  They were to stand in
full display position, just to the rear and the right side of their
assigned guest where their sexual organs would be easy to fondle.  If their
guest desired, they were to slip under the table to suck them off
discretely while they ate, bend over to be fucked between courses right in
plain view of all the other diners, stand stoically as the guests milked
them for a fresh condiment, or masturbate themselves for the same purpose.
They knew most guests would at some point during the meal do one or all of
these things, but certainly they would be milked before a toast or as an
after-dinner cocktail, or even as an interesting steak sauce. After the
meal, their assigned guest would have first choice in using their body, but
if he or she was bored by now, their body would be available to any of the
guests - first come, first served. El Greco had served this function before
and warned Aztec it would be a long night.  At the last party, El Greco had
been milked four times during the leisurely meal, had sucked his owner off
twice under the table during the meal, had had endless fingers placed up
his ass chute while the guest was eating with the other hand, and had had
his prick stroked and his balls fondled with one hand or another throughout
the meal.  After the meal, he had been chosen for use by 11 different
guests before the night was over.  By the morning after, he had a bleeding
ass, a chaffed prick, swollen and very sore balls, a raspy throat,
indigestion from all the cum he had swallowed, and tits so sore he couldn't
touch them for days afterwards.  El Greco informed Aztec he doubted if this
party would be any different for a slave - in fact, since it was
celebrating the mansion's opening, it could be much more demanding.  When
Aztec blanched in fear at the description of the forthcoming demands, El
Greco reassured him.

     "Aztec, you're young and strong.  It WILL be a demanding night, but
one both you and I can endure with no real damage after a few days to
recover. It's probably no different than a brothel slave has to endure each
and every day and we Holgate properties only have parties to serve every
few months or so. Me?  I dreaded the first one and wondered if it would do
me in after talking to the veteran slaves around here.  But after it was
over and the juice started flowing back in my balls, I realized it really
wasn't all that bad and, at least, it was great getting completely drained
at long last.  I wasn't hard for a good week after that first party to show
you how drained I got.  Look at us now - always hard and dripping because
of our need.  Well, after the party, you won't have to put up with that for
a while," he laughed. "Besides," El Greco added, "not all the guests are
old and ugly.  A surprising number of Master Holgate's guests are young and
good looking - you won't mind being fucked by them at all.  At least, I
don't."

     "Did any waiters get to fuck any of the mistresses?" Aztec asked
hopefully.

     "At the last party, yes.  As a matter of fact, three of them.  But,
Aztec, fucking a mistress to her exact specifications and not being allowed
to shoot off while you're fucking her is entirely different than fucking
some little trollop in your home town before you were enslaved.  Back in
Greece, I used to fuck some stupid girls caught up with my looks about
every day and enjoyed it thoroughly.  But fucking a mistress is just work
as far as I'm concerned.  Most of them control' you through your tit or
nose rings and they're always telling you to pump harder or pump deeper or
lick them out better or whatever.  There's just no spontaneity in it and
it's just a chore no matter how much you tell the bitch you're enjoying it
and she's the best you ever had and all that crap. But, Aztec, as I recall,
you never really had a woman when you were free - that will be to your
advantage.  That way, you don't have anything else to compare it with and
that's just as well. But, if you're good in fucking them, they often let
you shoot off when they're totally satisfied and the relief alone is worth
all the heaving and bucking. As I told you, Aztec, you're almost as good
looking as this Greek boy, so I imagine some mistress is going to bed you
down before the evening is over.  You're see what I mean after you've
served stud to the old bitch."

     With that, both slaves began giving themselves the series of enemas,
body shaves and oiling, nail and tooth polishing, head hair trims, and
other grooming necessary to make them look their very best for the coming
evening's events. Finally, they inserted the 8" butt plugs ordered up by
Master Holgate, each with a huge ring sticking out of their butt to make
removal easy for the guests if and when they wanted to fuck the slave.  As
their steward had explained, the butt plug was there not only to remind
them of their status and keep them hard throughout the evening, but to
serve as an invitation to the guests for use of their well trained hole
whenever they wanted.

     Elsewhere, the food servers were being similarly prepared for the
evening. All servers were dark brown Asian blends fitted out with large tit
rings, tall showy red collars, flashy ear rings, and clothed' in gleaming
white jock straps surrounding their large genital package.  They too were
being cleansed inside and out, heavily oiled, and shaved smooth below their
eyebrows.  They were well aware their clothing' would only be temporary -
if a guest didn't tear it off while serving when fondling them, they would
remove it automatically as soon as all the food courses had been served and
offer themselves as a last course' to the dining guests.  Hence, they
retained their thick genital rings so that they displayed well with or
without the white jock straps. Those Asian slaves experienced in serving a
Holgate banquet knew this last course' usually meant they were drained dry.
Most guests loved having at least one or two loads of hot cum as an
aperitif and Asian cum always had a unique, but tasty, flavor.  Some guests
followed that with actually fucking the server or having the server suck
him off, but this was often diverted with the ready availability of the
handsome waiters who frequently had drained the guests already.  Like the
waiters, the servers then were available for anyone's use the remainder of
the evening which necessitated many trips to the maintenance center to be
flushed out, bathed, or re-lubed and re-oiled as the evening progressed.
Despite rumors to the contrary, Asian slaves held up to the heavy sexual
demands just as well as other slaves.  It was more a matter of training and
overall health than ethnicity and race, most astute dealers knew.

     Of course, Dallas and Charles, who got so excited when they received
their first invitation ever to a Holgate party, were among the 100+ invited
guests and could hardly contain themselves when they, along with their
"attendant" slave Romulus, stepped onto the Roman barge to be rowed across
the river to the Holgate estate's pier. Both the young masters were in
their finest party clothes - clothes that fit perfectly and were of the
finest quality but also could be easily removed and then put back on
dependent on party demands (if any of the rumors about the party were even
partially true!). Accompanying them was their brown- skinned slave Romulus,
resplendent in a shiny new silver collar that was 3" high to force an erect
head at all times, large 2" tit rings, a thick 1" genital ring that made
sure his ample manhood was prominently displayed, and a shaved oil-slicked
body that simply glowed in the torches of the galley.  Romulus' leash, made
up of small silver links forming a light chain, ran from Master Dallas'
hand to a ring attached to Romulus genital ring - in other words, he was
being led around by his balls on this festive occasion.

     "If you find your attendant slave more trouble than he's worth, just
send him back and we'll put him in the holding pens we've set up on the
parking lot for your convenience," the dockmaster said right before they
stepped on the barge.  "That's why we're marking him with this temporary
number on his chest.  Here's the check-in tag with his number in case you
decide to pen him until you're ready to leave.  We're using red ink for the
chest numbers so the guests' stock doesn't get mixed up with Holgate
stock," he added.

     "I told you Romulus might get in the way," Dallas whispered to
Charles.  "You want to check him in now?"

     "Let's at least give him a ride in the barge," Charles replied.  "We
can always send the boy back from the other side."

     " The boy' viewed the holding pens the dockmaster had referred to.
They looked like PortaPots with bars for walls instead of solid siding - a
stand-up only cage with barely enough room to turn around in and obviously
trucked in just for this occasion. The long row of cages were already half
full as many guests had already decided their slave attendants, all marked
with red numbers on their chests, were supercilious and the eyes of the
cage occupants gleaned in the torch lights of the parking lot reminiscence
of the holding areas at a nighttime slave auction.  Romulus had seen cages
like this before, of course.  They were commonly used in displaying fresh
stock for first sale where untrained goods to be inspected needed to be
tightly confined.  And they were common where male slaves had primarily
been purchased as milk studs - it was easy to hook them up to the milking
machines when the studs were restrained in vertical cages where they could
barely move.

     With a jerk on his leash, Romulus followed his masters onto the barge,
resplendent with eight jet-black rowers, each muscular body wet with sweat,
each breathing heavily from their last run, and each rock hard as they
squirmed chained to their row benches. They stared at Romulus' handsome
naked brown body with open lust when the white overseer's attention was
diverted by the embarking guests.  Romulus stared in return at their backs
and rumps, coated with a mixture of blood from the whip and riverlets of
sweat from their heated bodies.  As one of the galley slaves lifted his
body to readjust his position, Romulus quickly saw why all the rowers were
fully erect and dripping - their asses were impaled on huge dildos set into
the rowing benches themselves. Each stroke of the oar was equivalent to the
plunge of a huge prick fucking them. Romulus, fairly naive in all the
varieties slaves were available at markets around the world, stared again
at the magnificent physiques, the gleaming ebony hide, and the gigantic
pricks of the pure black rowers and couldn't help but become aroused
himself.  The galley slaves were the epitome of masculine flesh and were
obviously in heavy need from the stimulation they were receiving.  Romulus
wondered if he could survive a fucking from any one of them - all were much
bigger than anything he had seen in slaves to date.  Where on earth did
this Master Holgate find such specimens?

     When the barge took off with the overseer's whip raining down on the
backs of the rowers, Charles and Dallas were practically drooling looked at
the erotic display of raw sexuality and wanton masculinity under perfect
discipline and were instantly hard and dripping themselves as they stared
at the slaves squirming on the benches in their efforts to keep the whip
from cutting their backs even more than was occurring (but in the process
fucking themselves even harder on the dildos deep within them). Before two
minutes of leaving the shore, Dalles had Romulus on his knees sucking him
while Charles stroked himself through his tight pants.  Both masters were
writing down the number of one or another of the galley slaves they
intended to use later in the evening.

     Before Romulus could drain Master Dalles, they were on the other side
and disembarking where the naked blond litter bearers awaited them with the
ornate Roman-style litters. Charles saw the sign inviting guests to use the
bearers and quickly grabbed a handsome heavily hung blond slave, pushed him
to his knees, and had the slave sucking him all the way down his
throat. Dallas, still holding Romulus genital leash, started stroking
another blond slave's erect prick with one hand while playing with the
slave's prominent tits with the hand holding his own slave's leash.
Neither Charles nor Dallas stopped their dalliance until Charles dumped a
load down one blond's throat while Dallas pumped a load from another blond,
caught it in his hand and then slurped it down in that he was a little
hungry since it had been some time since lunch.

     When finished, Charles and Dalles looked at the accumulation of
dazzlingly handsome blond slaves standing around them, looked at the jet
black galley slaves screwing themselves on their embedded dildos as yet
another load of guests were now arriving, then looked at Romulus, held taut
by his genital leash, and both nodded their heads in agreement.  Their own
slave was simply in the way and would be better off awaiting them in a
holding cage upon their return. Keeping the check-in tag, they put him back
on the barge for the trip back to the parking lot.  The red number on his
chest told those in charge he was one of the guest's slaves being returned
for storage and he would be caged appropriately.

     "Did you read the fine print on the check-in tag, Charles? Dalles
asked.

     "Yeah, all goods may be used by Holgate properties," Charles laughed.
"If the cage master takes a fancy to him, Romulus will have his own little
party."

     As soon as all the guests had been rowed across, the cage master did
take a fancy to Romulus and fucked him thoroughly right out in public in
front of his cage. Fortunately, Romulus had lubed himself thoroughly for
the party since the cagemaster, a huge Russian slave, was formidable when
it came to his sexual organs.  Upon being stuffed back into his standing
cage, Romulus tried to use his hands to keep the river's chill off of him,
unable to curl up to keep himself warm in the cramped confines. None of the
checked in slaves had any clothes on them and all were chilled to the bone
by the time they masters or mistresses picked them up at the end of the
party sometime in the early morning. By that time, almost all of them had
been fucked at least once in that the black rowers whose numbers were not
called up were given some relief from their long siege of sexual arousal by
being given one of the checked slaves to fuck or have suck them
off. Romulus not only was fucked by the cagemaster, but, considerably
later, was fucked by two of the black galley slaves and had to suck two
more off.  At least, when he was being fucked by the black slaves, he got
heated up from their animal heat although their huge size stretched his ass
and throat to where he thought he was being torn open and he sobbed for a
short while from the terrible pain of accommodating them.  He could only
guess the guests had forgotten all about the beautiful black galley slaves
after they saw what was available inside the mansion.

     Charles and Dallas, having finished their dalliance with the inviting
blond litter slaves, each got aboard a litter, were hefted onto the slave's
shoulders, and soon found themselves at the mansion's main entrance.
Neither of them had ever been carried on a litter before and found the
experience exhilarating - there was a real thrill being borne aloft on the
shoulders of four beautifully muscled human animals, each team matched for
physique and hair color.  When they arrived, a few guests were busily
enjoying one or several of their litter bearers right near the front
entrance and it was strange seeing the front of the mansion dotted with
blond slaves either on their knees sucking, on their backs with their legs
splayed getting fucked, or on their hands and knees taking a guest's dick
up their hole.

     But both Charles and Dallas had wasted enough time playing around with
the handsome blonds and wasted no time marching up to the front entrance
display: the usual Holgate trio of three beautiful matched mulatto slaves
purchased in Chicago linked together by chains connecting their thick
penile rings welcoming the guests on behalf of their master and proclaiming
their availability after the last guests had arrived.

     "You ever think of fitting Romulus with a penile ring right through
his nice smooth glans?" Dallas asked his partner. "It sure gives a slave a
certain controlled look," he said admiringly as he tugged on the chains
connecting the three slaves' pricks.

     "I've thought of it, Dallas," Charles replied. "But it would be just
like Romulus to get it caught up in something like a drawer pull or a door
knob and tear his pretty phallus - that attractive trimmed prick of his is
one of the big reasons we bought him."

     "You're probably right, Charles," Dallas laughed.  "Romulus is one
sexy slave, but he's clumsy as an ox.  He'd be the very one to get his
manhood caught up in the Mix-Master or something."

     Both men, arriving about three-quarters through in the guest roll,
entered the mansion just in time for Master Holgate's arrival from another
entrance in a chariot pulled by eight prancing matched black-haired
green-eyed white slaves: all about 5'10", all shaved below their necks, all
with a pencil line beard and connecting mustache, and all tit ringed,
genitally banded with a penile ring, and all tall-collared, but no ear or
nose rings. They were harnessed in red leather, fitted with mouth bits -
the reins attached to their tit rings. All were butt plugged so their asses
churned as they pulled the flashy gold covered chariot.  The team of eight
hitched to the chariot were all coated in heavy oil so they practically
glowed in the strong spotlights of the grand hall.

     "Jesus," Charles exclaimed.  "Talk about an entrance!"

     But neither he nor Dallas were quite prepared for the display that
evolved from the prancing pony slaves pulling their master in a gold
chariot.  Soon, the team had reached the center of the hall where there was
a huge throne, resting on the broad muscle-bound backs of 16 prone black
slaves arranged in a circle around the perimeter of the throne.  Each naked
black had been selected for his musculature and the extreme size of his
erect penis.  Once Master Holgate had left his chariot and sat down in the
throne, the 16 blacks lifted the throne atop their shoulders in an
incredibly even fashion carefully choreographed and then stood with their
legs spread wide in full display position in a perfect circle surrounding
the throne, every muscle in their shoulders, torso, and legs reflecting the
strain of supporting the heavy throne and its occupant.  The audience was
awed into total silence initially, but then broke into spontaneous
applause.

     "Feel free to fondle the slave's bodies that are supporting me,
including milking them if you want.  I made sure their balls are stuffed
full to start with - they haven't been allowed to discharge in over a month
and would be most grateful for any relief you guests may choose to employ,"
Master Holgate announced with a gracious smile.

     "And just as soon as the white ponies are unhitched and have their
bits removed, you'll see then crawl beneath my ascended throne where they
will fuck each other beneath my throne for your amusement.  The white
ponies will fuck each other in a continuous chain for the full 45 minutes I
am being held aloft, but they will be exercising heavy body control during
that time.  After that, along with my black throne supporters, they will
offer themselves to any of my guests for the remainder of the evening. That
will give my guests 24 prime animals at their complete disposal as a little
variety to the other offerings of the evening.  So study them carefully for
a possible choice - they all know they will be punished if they don't
attract some sort of usage by a minimum of ten guests each. But in the
interim, you can always fondle and milk the black slaves if you like."

     Dallas and Charles stared in disbelief as the white ponies did indeed
crawl under the throne and proceed to start fucking each other in a huge
daisy chain of continuous motion.  And, with the open invitation, more than
a few guests started churning the balls, stroking the penises, and playing
with the tits of the huge black slaves straining from their load.  Soon,
more than a few of the black slaves, kept from shooting off for over a
month, starting shooting off into paper cups being dispensed by a small
team of attending slaves, while the guests started sipping the frothy
"appetizer."  Much to Charles' and Dallas' amazement, none of the black
slaves moved one iota as their tits were squeezed, their balls churned, and
their pricks pumped.  Even when they discharged a full load of their thick
cream into the cups provided did their bodies move at all other than a
slight muffled gasp and some body tremors shooting up and down their
torsos. Within their circle, the white slaves were moaning as a big prick
was being rammed in and out of their asses and they heaved pumping their
own organ all the way in and out of the slave's ass in front of them.
Soon, their bodies were coated in sweat and the smell of sex perfumed the
air surrounding the throne above them.  The sex smell served as an
aphrodisiac for the guests in attendance and soon nary a black slave
supporting their master on their straining shoulders didn't have hands all
over his body and was busily producing yet another load for a paper cup of
some guest.

     Charles and Dallas found a black slave who had only been milked once
so far and, getting a paper cup, proceeded to extract a full cup out of the
quivering slave.  The cream was indeed tasty and both men found it a
refreshing appetizer - it was obvious the meal would be served before too
long if this was labeled an appetizer.

     Within the 45 minutes of the throne display, the last guests had
arrived, the throne descended to ground level, and David Holgate invited
all the guests to use any of the white slaves that turned them on or one of
the black slaves now that they were freed of their load and could be easily
fucked.

     Instantly, almost all of the black slaves found themselves flat on
their backs with their legs lifted high and a hard prick pounding into
their hole. Likewise, the white slaves were either on their knees sucking a
guest or on their hands and knees being fucked just like before, but this
time by one of their master's guests rather than just another Holgate
property.  Soon both black and white slaves had cum running down their legs
or dribbling out of their mouths and witnessed lines of guests queued up
behind them awaiting their usage.  Fortunately, they reflected, they had
been forewarned of this possibility and had lubed themselves accordingly.
They smiled inwardly as they thought there would be no problem fulfilling
their owner's injunction to have 10 guests use them or face severe
punishment.  Already, most of them had serviced six or seven guests and it
was just the beginning of the evening - why, they hadn't even had a chance
to hit the slave maintenance center yet and get their body freshened. At
this rate, they could all expect to meet their quota (and beyond) with no
difficulty.

     Within a half-hour, a huge gong sounded with an announcement by Master
Holgate that dinner would be served in ten minutes, giving everyone a
chance to finish up with any slave they were using and get a chance to wash
up a bit if the evening had proven to be entertaining so far.  Most of the
guests shot off in whatever hole they were in, had the slave servicing them
clean their prick and balls with their mouth and tongue, and then freshened
up in one of the numerous rest rooms off the grand hall, reassembling their
clothes and combing their hair in the process.

     Charles and Dallas, like many of the others who had experienced
considerable sex with the slaves, went to the nearest restroom, washed
their face off, combed their hair, and, taking the washcloth, carefully
wiped off their sexual organs despite the fact they had been rather
thoroughly cleaned by the mouth of the last slave they had used, in both of
their cases one of the handsome green-eyed white slaves.

     Another gong sounded with Master Holgate announcing the meal would be
served in the Grand Dining Hall.

     Charles and Dallas were seated next to each other at a huge long table
lavishly set for 100 guests, each with a naked waiter to the right of each
chair.  Charles was seated next to a guest named Claude DuPree on his left
while Dallas was seated next to a guest on his right who had one of his own
slaves kneeling at his feet between the two of them.

     "I hope my slave isn't in your way, my friend," Dallas' neighbor
announced.  "If so, just nudge him with your foot and, if you like the
looks of him, feel free to use him at any time - he sucks beautifully and
doesn't make a lot of noise about it either.  Perfect for discrete use at a
dinner like this."

     Dallas looked down at the kneeling slave, no older than 18, and saw
the boy was attractive: a nice muscular physique, an almost pretty face,
and prominent well-shaped sexual organs propped out in front of him by a
large genital ring tightly fitted. Perhaps he would be interesting to use
at some point during the dinner if his own personal waiter, a handsome
white slave named Service, was disappointing.

     Service looked to be in his mid 20s, was quite appealing, and looked
experienced in offering his body up for other's use if not in serving as a
waiter.  Service looked at the slave on the floor disparagingly and let
Master Dallas know by a sophisticated look he would be the better choice in
bringing sensual pleasure over any teenage slave merely belonging to the
neighboring guest. "I'm a Holgate property, Master, " Service said softly
to his assigned guest as if that alone established his superiority over the
trash on the floor.

     Charles introduced himself to Claude DuPree who said he was a close
personal friend of David Holgate and indeed, sold premium slaves to him
from time to time.  Charles' personal waiter was an strikingly handsome
slave named Pleasure, who looked to be in the early 20s and was already
letting his assigned guest know his body was there for that guest's use any
way he wanted it and whenever he wanted it. Pleasure had a certain urgency
to him that was due to his Mafia training, but Charles, of course, knew
nothing of that at this point. He liked what he saw and appreciated the
waiter's eagerness to serve.

     Claude DuPree wasted no time in utilizing his waiter, a handsome slave
labeled The German.' "I've used this boy of David's before," he announced
as he grabbed the blond slave and began rapidly stroking his shaft, "and
found his juice particularly tangy.  Are your balls nice and full, German?"
he asked the slave who had thrust his pelvis outward for his user's
convenience in stroking him.

     "Yes, Master," the German slave answered with some urgency. "These
balls are packed full for Master's use," the slave added with a big smile
on his face.  "Master Holgate hasn't let any of us assigned as waiters to
shoot off for over two weeks now, Master."

     It didn't take long before the German slave filled the cocktail glass
Master DuPree had in his other hand with long, thick strands of steaming
hot cum. Claude DuPree dipped his finger in it and then lifted it to his
mouth, savoring the taste and texture.

     "Delicious! Want a taste?" Claude DuPree asked Charles, offering him
the cocktail glass.

     "Why not?" Charles responded as he took a fair sized sip from the
glass, ran it around in his mouth a bit, and then swallowed.

     "That IS good," Charles announced in appreciation as he took another
larger sip.

     "Hey, don't pig it ALL down," Claude DuPree laughed, "or I'll have to
milk another load out of the German's balls."

     "No need.  I'll coach a load out of Pleasure here. Maybe he's just as
good, if not better," Charles chuckled.  With that, Charles grabbed
Pleasure's dick, already hard and most prominent due to the waiter's thick
genital ring, and began pumping the large organ. This slave too had
obviously been denied any outlet for some time in that he almost instantly
began dripping and within a minute was spilling out a full load into
Charles' own crystal cocktail glass.  Pleasure's cum was frothy and ivory
white, even thicker than the German's.

     Charles took a sample slurp and found the taste interesting - sort of
like buttered almonds.

     "Here, Mr. Dupree, try it.  It's really somewhat different, but I must
say delicious," Charles handed the glass to his neighbor.

     "Call me Claude," the man sitting next to him said as he took the
proffered glass and took a nice swig.  "You're right, Charles.  It is
different, but, as you say, really yummy."  With that, Claude took a couple
of larger swallows, leaving just a little in the cup.

     "Hey, Claude, you've practically drunk the whole load," Charles
exclaimed. "You must like it!"

     "Milk out another load, Charles.  That boy's too good to waste,"
Claude instructed.

     Charles did just that and was surprised how quickly Pleasure produced
another load, almost as productive as the first milking and spurting out
surprisingly fast considering he had just been milked minutes
before. Claude did the same with his German waiter, which took a little
longer and this time produced only half a glass.

     "This time, I'm keeping my glass to myself, Claude," Charles laughed
as he drank the entire glass down in one huge gulp, smacking his lips
afterwards in satisfaction.

     "Me too, Charles," Claude chuckled as he swallowed the entire contents
of his refilled glass, swirled it around in his mouth a bit and then
swallowed. "German slaves are always tangy," he announced.

     Both the waiters had broke out in a full body sweat from their
draining and both their pricks were, for once, flaccid.  But they
maintained their wide-spread stance with their pelvises thrust forward for
easy handling.

     Dallas' neighbor on the other side had sucked his waiter off directly,
not fiddling with any cocktail glass and then began playing with the tits
on his attendant slave still kneeling beneath him. Dallas thought he should
at least have a cocktail of some type, in view of all his neighbors, and
milked Service off into his glass.  Service's output was quick and
voluminous.  And, as Dallas quickly discovered, delicious with a nice fresh
taste that was slightly salty.  It made for a nice pre-dinner cocktail and
the slave milked was most grateful to gain some relief at last.

     "Did you see those black slaves holding up David's throne?" Claude
DuPree asked Charles.  "One of them I recently sold to him, but I didn't
quite know at the time exactly what David had in mind using him for.  He
just told me he needed a very big, muscular stud that was jet black and
Sucker' fit the bill.  I thought I was selling him for his mouth, not his
muscles, but you know David - you just never know what he wants a slave
for.  Of course, Sucker' is still doing what he does best, I bet - sucking
dick.  That throne thing was just for tonight, probably Did you get to use
any of the black slaves holding up that throne, Charles?"

     "Sort of," Charles explained.  "I sucked one of those black's big tits
while they were holding up the throne.  I was more interested in whether I
could get them to move with my titillation than really using them
properly. No matter how much I sucked and tongued his big tits, I couldn't
get more than a good shiver out of that black slave he was so well trained.
And afterwards, I got busy fucking one of those white slaves that had
served as ponies.  The pony I fucked was really good - a nice tight ass
that he knew how to use for a master's pleasure.  Kind of amazing
considering he had been fucked for a 45 minutes before by the pony in back
of him."

     "Chances are you were sucking Sucker's tits.  Were they about as big
as a woman's tits?"

     "Well, yes, come to think of it, that's exactly what they were like.
The tits of a woman on a man's chest.  You say that was this Sucker slave
you sold to Mr. Holgate?"

     "Probably.  A big dude with lots of muscle, great big juicy tits, a
huge package on him, and the self-control of a well-trained bull.  But
mainly, a mouth that was heaven itself when it came to sucking a master,"
Mr. DuPree answered rather dreamily.  "Sort of wish I'd never sold him when
I think of that black slave's velvety throat."

     "Sounds like I really missed out just sucking his tits," Charles said.
"It would have been fun to see if he sucked as well as you say.  If I had
waited and used him after they had put that damn throne down, I could have
had him do just that."

     "Oh, look, they're bringing in the food," the master sitting next to
Dallas' announced.  By the way, my name's Jeremy. And your name?"

     "Dallas," was the quick answer.  "Your slave got a name, in case I
decide to use him after all?"

     "Fetch, and, I repeat, use him anytime you want.  That's what he's
here for," Jeremy replied.

     "Looks like all the servers are Asian," Dallas commented to no one in
particular.

     "Except that one that's golden with blue eyes - he looks Mexican to
me," Charles added to the conversation.

     "He is," Claude replied.  "I sold him to David just a few weeks
ago. He's from a small town in Mexico originally, in slavery less than a
year, and, if you get a chance, grab him to fuck.  He gives about the best
fuck I've ever seen out of a slave, especially one as young as he is.
That's why David bought him from me - his talent in offering up a damn
memorable fuck."

     Dallas and Charles stared at the slave under discussion.  His smooth
golden skin literally glowed with all the oil on him, and his huge basket
was well outlined in the white jock strap straining to hold its
contents. His body was truly appealing even clothed as he was with the
white jock strap.

     As the server passed them with a huge tray of appetizers, Claude
reached out and literally tore the jock strap off the Mexican slave,
exposing his huge genitals for all to see.

     "He's well equipped, but his real talent is offering up his ass,"
Claude said as he hefted the Mexican's balls up in his hand for all to see.

     The Mexican slave struggled to keep the tray from spilling but stood
quietly while his body was being fondled as he steadied the tray in his
hands. The waiters around him all served assorted appetizers from the tray
onto their assigned guests' plates as the Mexican balls were being churned
and his shaft stroked to a full erection.

     Other servers, all Asian blends in gleaming white jock straps (at
least those who hadn't had them torn off yet) followed with vegetables,
fruits, meats, and fish as the naked waiters made sure the guests had at
least a sample of each on their plates. Soon the room was quiet as the
guests were enjoying the delicious food and playing with the waiters'
bodies.  After the dessert was served, a lemon sponge cake soaked in hot
cum sauce direct from the kitchens (did David Holgate have a whole squadron
of milk slaves in the kitchen just for this purpose?), the servers who
still had their jock straps intact cast them off into a big container at
one side of the room and then circulated around among the guests, openly
advertising their availability for whatever the guests might want. Before
long, the entire room was seething with Asian bodies being fucked or on
their knees sucking, waiters flat on their backs being fucked, or waiters
on their knees sucking one guest or another.  Some waiters were put to
fucking the Asian servers for added entertainment and a few waiters were
put to each other under the explicit directions of their assigned guests,
who were commanding each move they made as if they were actors in some sort
of wild porno movie. Before 15 minutes, the floor was sticky with spent cum
and dripping juices, the air reeked of sex sweat, and the room was filled
with groans, moans, and sighs from both the slaves and the guests. No Roman
orgy could have been more complex than the writhing bodies in that room and
no guest could possibly say he wasn't offered every known sexual activity
ever invented by the enthusiastic Holgate slaves who seemed to have no
inhibitions, no restrictions on their use, no preferences other than
pleasing each and every guest present.

     Masters that preferred female slaves had plenty available as they too
drifted into the room following dessert.  And the mistresses present who
wanted more studs then their waiters and the servers weren't disappointed
either.  Both the black throne bearers and the white pony slaves now joined
the other slaves in the dining hall, all freshly scrubbed and relubed for
use by those guests who hadn't explored their bodies yet. The mistresses
took especial advantage of this new supply and many of the black and white
slaves were now plowing others rather than being plowed.

     "This is even better than the last party," Jeremy exclaimed as he was
plunging into the ass of a particularly handsome Asian server, no more than
18 or so.

     "I agree," Claude DuPree said, "and I've been to most of them, I
think."  Claude had Jeremy's slave Fretch sucking him off at the time, but
had just finished fucking one of the Asian servers himself, a huge handsome
Chinese man in his late 20s who sported one of the largest pricks Claude
had ever seen (and he had seen a lot of big slave pricks over the years).

     Charles and Dallas were completely drained, but nevertheless each had
Oriental serving slaves (one from Thailand; the other from Burma) sucking
them while they played idly with the two boys' tits.

     When all the guests were completely satiated and the only activity was
slaves fucking each other under the direction of one guest or another,
Master Holgate stood up and announced it was time for him to distribute a
few presents to 10 lucky recipients - all fresh, young slaves bred at his
own breeding farm, and, outside their extensive sexual training, relatively
unused up to this point.

     "Eight males and two females, ripe for breeding," he announced as the
ten carefully selected slaves (all products of Holgate's own premium
breeding studs and broods) marched in - all stark nude outside of their
neck collars and Holgate brands, the males showing hard.  Each of the ten
giveaways promptly climbed up on individual pedestals where attendants
chained them for guests' inspection prior to the distribution where they
displayed their bodies in full presentation mode (hands in back of their
slave collar, the males' pelvises thrust forward with their pricks fully
erect, the females' breasts thrust forward with their nipples fully erect,
and both sexes with their legs spread wide to best display their genitals.

     The 100 guests all then left their chairs and took their time
inspecting the goods to be given away as prizes while the other slaves in
the room seized the chance to take a breather.

     David Holgate then announced the winners would be chosen randomly by
the house computer.  All the gift slaves, now excited and flushed from all
the guests' handling were again freshly oiled on their hairless bodies and
were in a visible state of sexual arousal.

     "As I give each slave away, I will suggest the recipient try his new
prize out immediately to see if he wants to keep the gift or try to
exchange his gift with another recipient.  To make sure my guests
understand what I mean by trying a slave out' I have several pairs of fresh
slaves there on the stand fucking and sucking each other positioned so
every guests can see them easily - sort of a way to break the ice for those
guests who might be a little inhibited and old fashioned when to comes to
performing sex in front of others.  Modesty is alright for sex between free
people, but with slaves it seems ridiculous.  After all, it's not like
screwing your wife - a slave is just an animal, after all, and this is a
party designed for people to enjoy themselves," Mr. Holgate explained as he
pointed to the pairs of performing slaves just brought in and already in
the action he was referring to.  Each pair performing was a study of
matching color - one pair were both black; another pair were both brown;
another pair were both Asians; and four pair were both pure whites.  All
four pairs went to performing public sex vigorously up on the stands where
all could see them and each pair looked delighted to be there, part of
their intensive training no doubt.  Each pair moved about as they were
engaging in sex so that the guests could see their gyrating bodies from all
angles.

     Mr. Holgate pushed a button on the computer keyboard and a guest's
name flashed up on the big screen.

     "Claude DuPree, you old scoundrel," David Holgate laughed.  "I just
bought some slaves from you and here you are taking one of my slaves with
you back.  Probably, if I don't watch it, to sell him back to me again."  A
slave's number appeared on the screen and a handsome black slave stepped
off the podium with a big smile on his face as he headed for his new
master, Master DuPree.

     Claude DuPree smiled and had the black on his knees sucking him as he
thanked his host and long time friend.  "If he sucks me off well, I'll
start grooming him for sale back to you, David.  He's already got your
brand on him," Claude laughed as he slid his organ all the way down the
black's throat and felt the slave's throat muscles tightened around the
intrusion. He rubbed his fingers over the slave's brand as if to signify to
the kneeling boy he now owned him.

     David Holgate again pushed the computer button and one of the females
was given away to a person named Juan who apparently had won a slave at the
last party.

     "Two in a row, Juan," David joked.  "Next time you have a party, I
expect to win at least some little runt."

     The sixth slave given away went to Dallas' neighbor at the banquet,
Jeremy, who was beside himself with his good luck.  The prize slave in this
case was the other female who David Holgate announced could easily be bred
by the very slave Jeremy had brought with him as an attendant.

     "The way your own slave is hung, he should get her knocked up quick,"
David laughed, "and in 15 years or so, you ought to have a nice looking
slave to market yourself."

     "I think I'll start on breeding her right now," Jeremy shot back
excitedly.  With that, he drug Fetch out from under the table by his leash
and had him fuck the fresh young female slave right in front of
everyone. Fetch was astonished by this turn of events, not having been
allowed to fuck a female in years, but remembered what to do and soon was
obviously enjoying it, much to the delight of the spectators all around
him.  The female slave never expected to be bred in public like this, but
made the most of it and soon found herself caught up in Fetch's
considerable skill in bringing her to a very satisfying orgasm. By the time
she felt another orgasm coming on, she had forgotten all about the fact
people were all around her watching and was thrusting her hips up onto the
pounding shaft to impale herself as deeply as possible.  When Fetch spilled
deep within her, she knew somehow she was on her road to producing a new
slave pup - the first of many, many pregnancies over the years.  That much
she had learned at the breeding farm where she had been produced just like
this, except in the farm's crude rutting shed instead of this plush palace.

     The tenth and last slave to be given away was a young blond boy with
blue eyes, massive pecs, and huge sexual organs.

     "Pure Viking stock, bred out of a huge German brood and an even bigger
Danish stud," Mr. Holgate announced.  "Completely trained for full sexual
service, master, mistress, or both," he continued with a twinkle in his
eye. "This one I couldn't resist fucking myself and, although a real
handful, it's worth it," he chuckled. He pushed the computer key down and
Dallas' name shot up on the screen.

     "Dallas, your first Holgate party and you're a prizewinner.
Congratulations.  You and Charles can have fun with this one, I wager."

     The blond slave tried to hide his disappointment he wasn't being
awarded to a mistress or a master interested in breeding him.  The mention
of his new master's partner told him he was the one going to be fucked
instead of the other way around with this new owner.  But slaves didn't
determine who or who didn't buy them or what use they would be put to.  He
nodded in acceptance of his fate and headed with a smile on his face to his
new owner, Master Dallas (and apparently a Master Charles as well!).

     When he arrived, Dallas, joyous, nodded to Charles and motioned for
the new prize to get on his hands and knees.  Dallas gleefully slid his
newly erect shaft up the blond's asshole while his partner Charles slid his
own now erect pole down the blond slave's throat. Within a few minutes, the
Viking was being filled from both ends and the audience around them clapped
in appreciation of the little show. Somehow, the blond prize knew this was
a mere forerunner of his future life with this pair of masters.  His goal
for the immediate future was to make sure they were totally satisfied with
him; his secondary goal was to figure out a way to empty his own balls
occasionally when he got a chance.

THE VOLUPTUARY

By Bill Smith

CHAPTER 18

THE PARTY'S OVER

     The guests had all departed the Holgate party with the exception of
Claude DuPree who stayed in one of the mansion's guest apartments
overnight.  He and his friend David had breakfast when they finally got up,
about 2 P.M.  Claude had taken his gift slave to his bed that night and
found the black totally satisfactory in fucking him when he awoke the next
day.  Like all Holgate slaves, he was extremely well trained, handsome to a
fault, and extraordinarily equipped. He took a fuck as well as he sucked,
Claude noted with satisfaction, and should be easy to sell when he tired of
him. It was a nice gift and he again thanked David for the slave.

     "Pure chance you got him, Claude," David brushed off the thanks. "It
wasn't rigged, you know - the computer really did decide the winners
randomly.  Just don't try to sell that particular one back to me, you
rascal - other slaves you're bored with, but not that one.  Sell him off to
some lonely widow too old to get knocked up and you'll get a price for him
you won't believe.  Old white widows have a thing for virile black studs,
you know," he laughed.

     The two old friends reviewed the highlights of the party, decided it
was indeed the best party David had yet thrown, and was a fitting event to
introduce the new mansion to the public at large.  Claude thought the Roman
theme was particularly inspired, but acknowledged that with 650 slaves
involved one way or another, most any theme would have been successful.

     "Over six slaves for every guest," Claude marveled.  "Not too many in
town can pull that off, David."

     "Well, it's good to show off occasionally, Claude."

     "Occasionally!  Every time you have Driver pull out that Maybach for a
ride around town you're showing off more than anybody I know," Claude
retorted.

     "Well, you don't know too many people," David laughed. "Just those you
think you can palm a few slaves off to now and then. Me - I'm social; you -
you're just a businessman."

     The breakfast was served by two slaves well trained for the demands of
the Holgate household.  Both were handsome and nude, fitted out with large
genital rings, heavy tit rings, and thick collars that forced their heads
upright at all times.  Both were muscular, heavy hung, and "easy on the
eye" as David put it. But both looked to be in their 30s, well pass prime
age and it was obvious David held on to them out of familiarity, if nothing
else. The two slaves served fresh-squeezed orange juice, freshly baked
cinnamon rolls dripping with cum sauce (courtesy of the kitchen staff),
bacon and eggs (topped with the two waiters' own freshly produced cum right
at the table), and a side dish of cheese grits, thanks to David's southern
heritage. Although David liked fresh cum with his grits usually, this
morning it had been omitted due to the heavy use of cum in the cinnamon
rolls.

     "You've had these same two waiters ever since I've known you, David.
I'm surprised they can still produce a full load when needed," Claude
commented as the two slaves pumped themselves to quickly top the scrambled
eggs.

     "They put out just as much as when I first bought them - and just as
thick and creamy, too," David said.  "Besides, they know exactly what to do
anymore - I don't have to tell them a thing."

     "When's the next party?" Claude asked.

     "Not for a while.  I need to rest up and dream up some new things my
slaves can do to amuse my guests.  Just anyone can throw a party where you
just sit around and fuck slaves.  It takes some imagination to stage an
event people talk about for months."

     "Well, believe me, David, your guests will be yakking up this one for
months if not years.  Last night's party is the stuff of legends - eight
pure black slaves rowing you across a river in a Roman galley imbedded on
thick dildos in their asses; litters borne by teams of four blond slaves
each with a big plug in their butt; the throne held aloft by sixteen
blacks; eight prancing white ponies; giving away ten prime bred slaves; a
slave waiter for each guest at a sit- down dinner for over 100; separate
food servers, all yellow-skinned in white jock straps.  I'm surprised they
don't make a TV special or something out of your parties.  Have you thought
of it?  Advertisers would pay plenty to sponsor it.  The real stroke of
genius was insisting each recipient of a prize slave use them right on the
spot in front of all the other guests - that really livened the party to a
fever pitch."

     When the two had finished breakfast and reminisced once again on party
highlights, David had Driver take Claude home in the Maybach.

     "Time you sat your ass on some tanned slave hide, Claude," David
chuckled.  "There's no upholstery quite as nice."

     "My slaves say gruesome," Claude laughed.  "But it does tell slaves a
thing or two about who's in control, doesn't it?"

     "That's as important as how soft the hide really is," David
admitted. "If you want to use Driver before or after the ride, feel free,"
David invited where Driver could hear him..

     "Thanks, but I'm not up to it after last night and the fucking I gave
your gift slave right before breakfast."

     Claude left with that admission and Driver took him straight back to
his own home in the luxurious limousine with the black gift tucked away in
the trunk.  As Claude took in Driver's magnificence, he was tempted to take
up David's invitation for use of his property, and, as soon as he was home
and had the black gift chained to the rings handily embedded in his bedroom
wall bedroom with Driver's help, he indicated he wanted Driver on his back
for a good fucking.  Driver smiled and, once on his back in the comfortable
bed of Master DuPree, lifted his legs up in invitation.  Driver didn't get
back to the Holgate mansion until a good hour later than he had planned.

     Charles and Dallas took their gift slave with them as they returned
via the litters and barge to the parking lot where Romulus was awaiting
them in his cramped cage, shivering from the cold and with loads of cum
running down his legs and down his chin from the fucking he had received
throughout the long night, mainly from the galley and litter slaves not
called up for sexual use by the Holgate guests.  Romulus was happy to see
his masters, but puzzled by the new blond slave they had on a collar leash
following them.  He dared not ask his masters where the muscular new slave
had come from.

     "Put this slave in the trunk, Romulus, before you drive us home.
Dallas won him at the party," Charles announced.

     "And wipe all that cum off of you before you dirty up the car's
upholstery," Dallas said.  "There's a towel in the trunk just for that
purpose if you remember, Romulus."

     "Yes, master," Romulus said with some relief.  He was worried the new
slave had been purchased to replace him.  That was unlikely if the slave
was just a party favor.

     As Romulus led the blue-eyed blond slave to the car's trunk by his
leash, he couldn't help take in the new slave's huge equipment, his
handsome build, and his fresh Scandinavian look.  He grew hard just looking
at the slave as the new prize dutifully climbed into the trunk.

     "We haven't had him but a few hours and already you're hard and
dripping wanting to fuck him," Dallas laughed, pointing to Romulus' swollen
prick. "That meat's for us, boy, and don't you forget it."

     "Yes, master," Romulus said as he hastened to wipe himself off and
then quickly opened both rear doors for the two masters before heading for
the driver's seat. "He's your property just like me," Romulus added in
confirmation of his master's warning.

     "Did you like the party, Romulus?" Charles asked his slave.  "Looks
like you got fucked plenty."

     "Yes, master," Romulus responded. "Fucked plenty by both the black
galley slaves and the white litter bearers."

     "What were they doing down on the dock?" Dallas asked. "I thought the
guests would be using them."

     "Some of them were called up, master, for the guests to use them, but
some of them weren't, master.  The dockmaster let the unchosen ones use the
guests' properties that had been caged for the evening.  That is, before
they had to go back to work again bringing all the guests back just like
they came."

     "I thought they looked a little worn out," Charles laughed. "I didn't
realize the likes of you had sapped their energy."

     "Yes, master," Romulus said, not quite sure why he was being blamed
for sapping the Holgate slaves' energy.

     With that, Charles, Dallas, their new Viking slave, and Romulus all
returned to their home base and life resumed as usual, albeit with a
handsome new body to service the two masters.  The two talked about the
party for weeks afterwards, spoke nothing but superlatives about Mr. David
Hickam Holgate III, and worked on getting an invitation to the next Holgate
party as they enjoyed over and over the body of the handsome new blond gift
slave.

     Romulus was a hit in the slave quarters as he retold over and over the
story about the black galley slaves imbedded on huge dildos built into the
rowing benches and the white litter bearers and the ornate litters they
bore on their shoulders when not servicing the guests.  He even told about
the unused bearers and galley slaves fucking him right outside his tiny
holding pen in the parking lot.  He saw no embarrassment in being used by
other slaves - after all, that was a common enough occurrence for any slave
he knew (or any slave he was talking to).

     So, everyone - guests, gifts, slaves - all agreed.  It was a party to
remember!

THE VOLUPTUARY

by Bill Smith

Chapter 19

AN AFTER-PARTY FAVOR

     One of Romulus' chores as a house slave of Masters Dallas and Charles
was to answer all incoming calls if he wasn't busy servicing his masters in
which case a back-up slave got the privilege.

     "The residence of Dallas Upland and Charles Gibraldo, how may Slave
Romulus help you?" the young black slave said smoothly, having answered his
masters' phone now thousands of times.

     "Remember me, you black bastard?" the Holgate dockmaster laughed. "The
last time we met, I fucked the shit out of you when you were caged down at
the dock at the Holgate mansion awaiting your masters return from the
party. Of course, I got to you first, before some of the galley slaves and
litter bearers not called up for action got to dump into you for a little
relief. Both of those groups of slaves are so damn big I bet your ass and
throat are still aching from being stretched from those big boys."

     "Yes, bossman," Romulus remembered the appropriate term for any slave
placed in a supervisory position over other slaves, "but I'm well trained
to handle even the biggest cocks," he boasted. "Although, bossman," he
chuckled to the Holgate slave, "a couple of times I was sure a prick was
ending up in my stomach."

     "All the slaves I'm in charge of are picked for their looks, their
musculature, and especially their humongous dicks.  Master Holgate's agents
search the world over for those beautiful black galley slaves and the
handsome white litter slaves that got to fuck you on the night of the
Master's last big party. You're a lucky slaveboy, Romulus.  I know some
masters and mistresses that would pay plenty to be studded by exceptional
slaveboys like that."

     "Yes, bossman," Romulus replied, "It was an experience I won't forget
for a while," he added, sagaciously leaving out he was given no choice in
whether he was used or not that night nor by whom and that the experience'
was, if he wasn't a slave, a multiple rape of both his holes. As a slave,
he had been used,' nothing more and nothing less.

     "What I'm calling about, Romulus, is another aspect of Master
Holgate's excessive generosity.  Your Master Dallas had turned in a slip of
paper requesting use of one of the litter slaves he saw at Master Holgate's
party two weeks ago, Litter Slave 14.  And your master Charles turned in a
slip listing two slaves under my charge: a black galley slave named "GS 28"
and one of the galley's drivers, an unshaven white slave Master Holgate
named "Bedboy" when he bought him. Well, neither of your masters ever got
around to calling for them that night - I suppose they were so busy using
some of the other slaves at the party itself they forgot all about
requesting those three earlier, not too uncommon considering what's
available for them inside the house," the dockmaster continued.  "Master
Holgate, though, wants every slave requested to actually be used by whoever
requested them, even if it's a couple of weeks after the event.  To make a
long story short, Romulus, your masters have worked their way up on the
request list and the three slaves they requested are now available for
their use.  The usual arrangement is for me to deliver them to your
master's house and pick them up 24 hours later unless they request an
extension which can easily be arranged.  Some guests, for example, ask for
an extension if they want to breed these exceptional studs with some of
their female stock in heat for a little extra profit down the line.  Inform
your masters of Master Holgate's generosity and get back with me today if
possible.  I take it they are in?"

     "Yes, bossman.  I'll tell them and call you back with their response.
What's your number, bossman?" Romulus replied, well trained in telephone
etiquette.

     "788-7808, That's the direct line to the pens here at the dock where
the galley and litter slaves are caged."

     "I'll call you back as soon as I confer with my masters," Romulus
promised.

     "Do that, Romulus, and don't let them fuck you too hard when you're
conferring with them," the dockmaster laughed as he hung up the phone.

     Romulus sought out his masters who were relaxing out by their pool.
Dallas was fondling the naked pool slave, a recent Egyptian acquisition
bought locally but originally from the huge slave markets of Cairo. The
18-year-old boy was fully mature, but still stood only 5'6", had a muscular
body with no hair on it outside his head hair, a handsome face featuring
large black eyes, a prominent Ptolemaic nose and high cheekbones, and an
unusually large circumcised penis prominently displayed due to a thick
copper genital band that had been fitted to the slave that matched the tall
collar welded around the slave's neck.. The slave, now labeled "Poolboy,"
was rock hard and dripping from his owner's manipulations.

     When Romulus appeared, it was obvious he had a message for his masters
and "Poolboy" knelt down to suck Master Dallas with a slight motion of his
master's hand.  Romulus was well aware that Egyptian slaveboys were
currently quite cheap due to the huge numbers being exported from Egypt and
wasn't surprised when his masters showed up with one in tow a short time
ago..

     "Permission to speak, masters?" Romulus said as he knelt down on both
knees and touched his forehead to the ground in a slave's typical obeisance
to those who own him. He only heard Poolboy's vigorous sucking as his own
eyes were subverted to the ground beneath him.

     "Yes, yes, we heard the phone ring," Master Dallas said.  "What was it
about, slave?"

     Without moving his body from his position of respect, Romulus quickly
relayed the Holgate dockmaster's message in its entirety.

     "Call him back, slave," Dallas said, pausing mid-sentence as he arched
his back and shot down the pool slave's clenching throat, "and tell him
your masters gratefully accept Master Holgate's kind invitation to use the
three properties and that we would appreciate an extra 24 hour extension
for breeding purposes."

     "Yes, masters," Romulus said as he quickly assumed an upright position
and carefully backed up with his head bowed to get to the nearest house
phone to inform the Holgate dockmaster as to his master's decision.

     "You know, Dallas," Charles said as Romulus was leaving, "we've only
got five of our female slaves in foal now.  By my count, that means we've
got two, a black and a white, we need to get knocked up if we're to keep to
our plan."

     Dallas watched as the pool slave cleaned his prick off noticing the
Egyptian chattel was looking at Master Charles to see if his other master
wanted to be sucked off also.

     "Eager little whore, isn't he," Dallas laughed when he noticed Charles
motioning for the slave to suck him off now. As soon as the pool slave had
swallowed Charles shaft all the way down his throat and was busily sucking
away, Dallas reviewed the two's breeding plans for their female slaves.

     "Our goal was to keep all the female stock pregnant as much as
possible.  You can't do any better than Holgate studs as sires.  We could
put the black to the white brood around the clock - say every four hours
and alternate the two whites with the black bitch - say one of them every
three hours. That would give the white brood six good fuckings with the
black stud in the 24 hours we're using the Holgate stock for breeding and
the black bitch 8 good fuckings with white slave seed. If it's a good time
in their ovulation cycle, we should end up with two exceptional mulatto
slave pups.  Mulattos always bring top market prices - especially if
they're bred from good looking, well hung Holgate sires."

     Charles nodded his head in agreement as he enjoyed the thorough oral
servicing from their cute little Egyptian pool boy. The new slave boy was
good to fuck up his ass too, if last night was any example.  Both he and
Dallas had fucked the boy repeatedly before finally falling off to sleep
last night.  Each had fucked the Egyptian slave again upon awakening for
good measure and, again, were not disappointed with his every effort to
please them in their use of his body.

     "This slave is filling out nicely now that we've got him in the forced
exercise program and on a high protein diet.  I especially like the way
he's slowly but surely getting a nice bubble butt on him and some real
puffy pecs that show his tits off nicely," Dallas commented as he reached
over and began kneading the slaveboy's tits as the slave continued
vigorously swallowing Charles' organ clear down to the root, massaging it
with his throat muscles as he suctioned for all he was worth.

     "We needed another slave like a hole in the head," Charles gasped,
"but at the price we got him for, we couldn't afford not to buy him. I
wonder if all Egyptian slaves are this good at pleasuring their owners?"

     Dallas continued fondling and kneading the slave's tits.  "Personally,
I like the way he manages to stay hard all the time.  Of course," he
chuckled, "not allowing him to shoot off helps in that."

     "As well as that tight copper ring we've got banded around his
manhood," Charles laughed as he grabbed the slave's head tightly and jammed
his cock as far down the slave's throat as possible before shooting huge
globs of fresh cum down into the slave's stomach.  The Egyptian slave
swallowed the entire amount without spilling a drop and quickly cleaned his
master's prick when the spasms stopped and Master Charles withdrew his
large organ from deep within the slave's throat.

*****

     Prior to his recent purchase by these two men, the Egyptian boy had
never had a real master or mistress.  In the desperate economic times of
his country, professional slave hunters had taken to raiding small
villages, especially in Southern Egypt where starvation was rampant and
little resistance to slave raiding was evident since most people felt
slavery for their offspring was preferable to them starving to death at
home. The hunter's harvest found themselves crowded together in huge trucks
(previously used to ship sheep) headed north to Cairo's mega-markets of
human flesh.

     There, the new captive was quickly branded, fitted with a slave
collar, shaved and oiled and chained to a street display stand outside the
slave pens where potential purchasers could examine the goods being
offered.  At first, the young boy had writhed and howled as people squeezed
his balls to test firmness, stroked his prick to see how quickly he could
be aroused, felt every muscle on his body, and even ran their fingers up
his asshole to see how tight his hole was. No one paid the slightest
attention to his objections and soon he settled down and just let people do
what they wanted with his body to avoid the ever present whip that wrapped
itself painfully around his naked body whenever he withdrew from a
customer's probing fingers. Within three days, a wholesaler had purchased
him, he was manacled tightly, placed in a cramped shipping cage, and placed
in the hold of a cargo plane.  Two days later and on solid ground again, he
was fed, hosed down, and placed up for auction in a place he didn't have a
clue as to where it was, what country he was in, let alone what city.  The
language was English and he could understand only a little of what was
said.  He knew he was being sold as a slave, he knew whoever bought him
could do what they wanted with him (even kill him for sport if they so
desired) and that he sold for a price considerably under what the big
African blacks, Eastern Europeans, and Asian boys were bringing.

     Now, purchased just like any other livestock, stark naked with a band
around his neck and balls, he felt lucky to have not one, but two masters,
who fed him well, were easy with the whip as long as he did exactly as they
wanted, and seemed to appreciate the way he fulfilled their sexual needs to
the best of his ability. He understood little of what they said, but could
follow their gestures easily enough. The other slaves in the household all
looked healthy, well cared for, and seemed uncomplaining, even in the
privacy of the slave pens beneath the huge house. Overall, he felt lucky
compared to the fates he saw some of the other slaves at the auction were
headed for: draft slaves for the mines, field slaves for the agribusiness
concerns, factory slaves for manufacturing corporations.

     Being sold to a individual was a lucky break for a slave, and if the
new master or mistress owned other slaves as well, it meant you didn't have
to fulfill all of their needs all by yourself.  Yes, he was one lucky
slaveboy!  Sucking cock and taking it up the ass was nothing compared to
the fate of the others kidnaped from his village and sold at the same
auction faced: a large muscular man with a small penis was sold to the
mines; a sturdy looking 19-year-old but with an ugly face was sold to the
farm managers; three more with unexceptional looks were sold to an auto
assembler where they would be permanently chained to their work stations;
two more were sold off to the city's sewage department.  Only one other
boy, a very handsome 20-year-old with a nicely shaped prick both long and
thick, was sold to an individual: a middle aged mistress who wasn't
particularly pretty, but was stern, even severe looking, especially with
the steel-tipped whip that never left her hand. The only thing the new
slave "Pool Boy" regretted in his new home was that he had been forbidden
to cum.  As a result, he was chronically hard and dripping, but that, of
course, was what his owners wanted so he doubted if that would change in
the near future.

*****

     Romulus wasted no time in returning the call to the Holgate's
dockmaster.

     "Bossman, Romulus here, Master Gibraldo's and Master Upland's personal
house slave.  My masters said to tell you they were extremely appreciative
of Master Holgate's generosity and thoughtfulness in loaning out the three
properties they had requested at Master Holgate's party. They said they
would enjoy using these unexpected party favors for the 24 hour period
scheduled and that they would like to request the 24-hour extension in that
they do intend, if that is all right with your master, to breed all three
studs with some of their female broods out of foal."

     "Did your masters fuck you while you were conveying my master's
generosity?"  Bossman laughed.

     "No, Bossman," Romulus chortled.  "Not this time, anyway. They were
fucking the mouth of a new Egyptian slaveboy they purchased a week or so
ago."  Romulus paused for effect and then added dramatically, "But the
novelty will pass and they'll get back to craving the best black meat in
town before too long."

     "Self praise is no praise at all, you black bastard," the Holgate
dockmaster laughed.  "Especially since I pounded your black ass into pulp
just a couple of weeks ago before I let the left-over galley slaves and
litter bearers fuck you half to death.  Best black meat in town my eye -
remember what those black galley slaves looked like sticking it to you half
the night.  You cost 10 cents to the dollar for what they cost."

     "The arrogance of you Holgate slaves is sobering to those of us at a
more reasonable cost," Romulus chuckled.

     "I'll deliver the three slaves myself tomorrow morning if I don't hear
back from you.  Short notice, I know, but your masters aren't going
anywhere anyway probably, and Master Holgate likes to keep his stock
engaged at all times.  As he says, a slave's idol ass doesn't do anyone any
good.'"

     "That's because he's not a slave," Romulus chuckled again.  "But my
masters couldn't agree with him more, if this household is any
example. It's rare around here I'm not fucked at least once a day and
usually more."

     "Don't feel alone, Romulus," Bossman sighed.  "Even we slave overseers
get used on a regular basis by the master's many guests as well as that
squad of slave stewards that lord it over us.  As for those under my whip -
don't even ask.  Well, when you're loaned out for use to his friends on a
regular basis, you can only imagine."

     "I know those you're bringing over are going to know they've been used
good and proper before they leave this house, Bossman.  Especially with the
breeding duties thrown in."

     "Well, they're used to it by now, Romulus.  Can you arrange to let me
fuck you again when I deliver the goods?"

     "I don't mind, but you'll have to ask my masters, of course.  If they
give the nod, I'm all yours, Bossman," Romulus answered without hesitation
and rather invitingly.  Having some fresh meat up his ass was always a
welcome novelty when you were stuck in a house with only two masters free
to fuck you at any time.

     When Romulus informed his owners of the planned delivery time, they
were delighted the offer was going to be so promptly fulfilled, so there
was no need to call Bossman back.  At dinner that night, Dallas and Charles
enjoyed the entertainment while they were eating: Romulus fucking their new
Egyptian slave on top of the dining table.  It was a magnificent display:
sweating black muscle pounding into the quivering golden hued flesh of the
young Egyptian boy who moaned and groaned throughout the ordeal as if he
were being split in half.  Finally, Romulus (on command from Master Dallas)
shot into the boy's ass as Master Charles ordered the boy to cum
simultaneously right onto the table.  Poolboy' was overjoyed to be allowed
to cum at last and responded with huge amounts of milky white cream
sprewing all over the table while Romulus filled his ass with his own cum
to overflowing. Both slaves stayed in place, breathing heavily to catch
their breath, until their masters left the table.  Only then did they crawl
off the table, sliding and slipping in all the cum on the highly polished
table beneath them.

*****

     Around mid-morning the Holgate dockmaster arrived with the three
specific Holgate properties for 48 hour usage just as he had promised. The
manner of arrival was, like so much of David Holgate's estate, pure
theater.

     Hitched to a gold-colored two-wheeled surrey were five magnificent
beasts in full harness: two pure blacks, two blond whites, and a green-eyed
mulatto in the lead position.  Each of the five steeds were hugely muscled,
had flawless hides (although the blacks were scarred a bit from the whips),
were handsome to a fault, ringed around their huge erect phalluses as well
as collared around their necks, all were fitted with heavy tit rings on
their massive pecs, and all pranced daintily due to the large butt plugs
embedded deep into their assholes disguised as long flowing red tails (thus
explaining their constantly erect pricks) guaranteeing they essentially
fucked themselves with every step they took. Each had bits in their mouths
attached to the driver's reins and each sported a festive red plume
attached to his head. The costuming, along with their sweat drenched
bodies, made them look like handsome beasts of burden indeed (especially
the white litter slaves who were additionally fitted with prominent nose
rings).  In the surrey was an unshaved white slave who served as one of the
galley drivers who kept his whip in constant motion over the toiling beasts
in front of him.  Next to him was the gigantic dockmaster, clad only in his
slave collar, prominent tit rings, and wide genital cinch.

     Masters Dallas and Charles took in the sight with some amusement and
swiftly went out on the street in front of their house to look over the
beasts as well as the flamboyant surrey.  As soon as the two masters were
near, the dockmaster leaped out of the surrey and took a slave's proper
position of obeisance, kneeling with his forehead pressed to the
ground. The driver and the beasts of burden all bowed their heads in proper
respect, the stallions' heavy breathing evident in the quiet.

     "Permission to speak, masters?" the Holgate dockmaster queried.

     "Permission granted, slave," Master Charles replied as he stepped over
and ran his hands admiringly over the massive shoulder muscles of one of
the harnessed black slaves.

     "The black you are stroking, labeled GS28, is scheduled for your use
over the next 48 hours, masters.  And the white slave behind him, labeled
LS14, is also for your use, masters.  Also, master, the unshaved white
slave serving as the driver, who Master Holgate calls
 Bedboy' is scheduled for your use.  These are the three slaves one or the
other of you requested at my master's last party but were unable to use at
that time. With your permission, Bedboy" will unhitch the two slaves up
front and remove their harnesses, headpieces and tails. I'll keep those in
the surrey's storage compartment for their return trip. All three slaves
have been administered a full cycle of enemas right before we left,
masters, and all have been fed.  You won't need to feed them for the time
you have them - all these slaves are used to going at least 48 hours
between feedings when needed.  But, if you do want to feed them, the
standard dry slave chow with a bowl of water is their usual diet.  You
might want to rinse them off in that all three are covered in the sweat of
their exertions right now, but then some masters enjoy the properties all
the more when they glisten with the sweat of a slave's toils."

     "Well said, slave," Charles chuckled as he stepped back and hefted the
huge erect phallus of the white litter slave that was to be his in his
hand. "Permission granted for the driver to unhitch the slaves, but why is
the driver also coated in his sweat?"

     "Master, the driver slave takes his assignment seriously and keeps
those assigned to him for supervision severely disciplined at all
times. Using the whip properly and constantly takes a lot of energy,
master, as no doubt you are well aware.  But," the dockmaster continued
with some risk of talking too much in front of his betters, "the slaves
under his yoke resent it when he breaks their hide in his enthusiasm and
their backs and rumps are scarred and bloody.  That's why, when those
slaves are ordered to fuck him for a master's amusement, it is something to
behold.  Sometimes, I have to intervene to make sure the driver is kept
alive and the master's unshaven white property isn't permanently damaged."

     "Well, that's interesting.  Are you suggesting I arrange some
amusement of that sort in the time I have loan of these Holgate
properties?" Charles asked with an arched eyebrow.

     "I don't think you would be disappointed with that scenario," the
dockmaster replied humbly as he remained in his position of obeisance.  "It
is just a suggestion, but remember, Master, the properties must be returned
unharmed - well, at least no permanent injuries. We do allow for a guest's
enthusiasm and full enjoyment in use of the properties."

     As the driver quickly rearranged the remaining two slaves into a pair
to pull the surrey to its next destination, the dockmaster arose and faced
the two slaves now freed from their restraints along with the driver
"Bedboy" and fastened a leash to their collars.  He then handed the leashes
to Master Dallas standing nearby as he instructed the loaned slaves.

     "Master Dallas and Master Charles here," the dockmaster said as he
nodded to the two men standing there, "will be your masters for the next 48
hours.  Do everything they want with the pride, salacity, and skill of a
Holgate slave or you risk being sold off to the mines or worse.
Unfortunately, these masters were too busy the night of the party to
personally enjoy your bodies.  Now, that oversight is being corrected,
thanks to the generosity and thoughtfulness of he who owns you. You know
what to expect surely from being loaned out constantly to various guests
since the party as you will continue to be until all guest's requests have
been fulfilled.  According to my calculations, that will be close to 10
weeks from now since most guests are asking for the 24 hours extension for
breeding purposes, you lucky bastards."

     The loaned slaves knelt at Master Dallas' feet, their knees wide apart
to best display their ringed genitals and with their handsome heads bowed.

     "According to my records, this black slave was requested by you,
Master Dallas, and the white litter bearer was requested by you, Master
Charles.  Both of you, it turned out, had requested the driver Bedboy.'
That's just a reminder, Masters, although it is totally irrelevant in that
all three slaves are here for usage by either of you or anyone you want for
the next 48 hours.  I shall pick the properties up day after tomorrow at
this same time and, if they're not totally exhausted at that time, they can
be hitched back to the surrey for the trip home.  But, if they're pretty
well played out, we will simply walk them home," he smiled, letting the two
masters know they could fuck the slaves into oblivion if they so desired.

     "That's good to hear, dockmaster," Master Dallas spoke for the first
time. "Aren't you the Holgate slave that fucked my black house slave
Romulus in the dock's holding pens - along with a good four or five other
unused galley slaves and litter bearers?"

     "Yes, master," the dockmaster replied with his head still bowed,
although his ringed prick swelled considerably at the remembrance.

     "Yes, I can see you remember," Master Dallas said as he reached over
and lifted the dockmaster's arising prick in his hand, squeezing the huge
instrument until it was fully erect.  "He told us all about his usage by
the Holgate slaves when we picked him up at the holding pens as we left the
party.  His butt was so sore he could barely walk behind us on our trip
home and his jaw was so sore he slurred his words," Dallas laughed, "but
the experience loosened him up considerably - just what he needed."

     The dockmaster saw his opening, at least with Master Dallas.

     "When I pick the slaves up, you might enjoy watching a repeat of that
experience, Master," the dockmaster suggested.  "I am sure my master would
want me to please his guests any way I can, and, Master, I find your slave
Romulus very attractive.  Having me fuck him for your pleasure would be one
way both of us, Romulus and I, could express our gratitude for having such
strong and commanding owners."

     "Romulus could barely walk when we got him back," Dallas said as he
continued to fondle the huge sex of the dockmaster.  "I can understand now
why you are showing so well.  It might amuse me to see such a show.  What
do you think, Charles?"

     Charles stepped over, brushed Dallas' hand away from the dockmaster's
organ and felt the throbbing prick himself, hefting the slave's swollen
balls with his other hand. "Being fucked by this thing would be good
discipline for Romulus, Dallas," Charles announced, "and would be fun to
watch.  I only have one stipulation - when you're through fucking our slave
Romulus, I'd like to fuck you before you return back to the estate's docks.
It's always fun to fuck a slave who's in control of other slaves - teaches
them humility, if nothing else, and reminds them of their station of life."

     "It would be my pleasure, Master, to serve you anyway you want.  And,
master, if I may say so, you are certainly right about the need of slaves
to be reminded of our station in life.  Even Holgate stewards sometimes
forget they are just properties, but, fortunately, Master Holgate makes
sure they are fucked enough by his guests to remind them they are, after
all, just pieces of bought flesh, purchased for the pleasure of others."

     "I shall be happy to serve as your reminder, dockmaster, as no doubt
will Master Dallas although you may be a bit too muscular for his tastes."

     The dockmaster tried to hide the smile creeping across his face.
Getting fucked was a small price to pay for the privilege of fucking the
handsome black property of these two masters.  With that, he took his
leave, climbed into the surrey, picked up the whip, and with a loud crack
on the rumps of the remaining harnessed black galley slave and the
green-eyed mulatto slave, proceeded to deliver the striking mulatto to the
next guest on his list.  After that, he would deliver the black galley
slave, now pulling the surrey and its driver alone, to the last person on
his list, and then pull the surrey back to the Holgate docks himself,
mission accomplished. At least, he had no driver on the return trip to whip
HIS back into shreds!

*****

     Dwanga, now called GS28, stretched his throat fully to accommodate
Master Holgate's party guest's sizeable prick who he was now loaned to for
the next 48 hours. This Master Dallas, as he was called, had led him by his
leash to the main hall of his manor house and motioned the black slave to
his knees as he removed his clothing and then jammed his prick into the
slave's mouth, forcing it all the way in until Dwanga's nose was well into
this master's pubic hairs.  But Dwanga was well trained and well used to
sucking off Master Holgate's many guests.  With little trouble, he took the
large organ completely down his throat and suctioned forcefully while he
ran his tongue around the pulsating shaft remaining in his mouth.  He felt
the master run his hands over his head, across his sweaty shoulders (still
a little red from the driver's whip) and, finding his ringed nipples, began
to play with them despite the fact they were slick with perspiration from
the heavy pull to this house. The black slave reflected on how relaxed he
felt, now that the huge tail plug had been removed from his butt and his
anal chute now had a chance to close in on itself.  Between the plugs
embedded into the galley's rowing benches and the tails inserted when he
was hitched to the surrey, his master's personal carriage, or one of the
estate's freight wagons, his hole had gotten used to feeling full, but now
the relief from that feeling was enjoyed. He knew, however, the relief
would be temporary - he was pretty certain his sucking was simply a
preliminary to being fucked by this master and the size of the organ he was
now sucking was bigger than most masters he serviced, although not in the
same league of most Holgate slaves, but they, of course, were highly
selected for that specific trait.

     As Dwanga felt his tits enlarge from the finger massage the master was
giving them and got used to his throat and mouth being stretched to
accommodate the task at hand, he felt one of the master's hands explore the
tiny whip scars now embedded throughout his upper body as well as probe the
depths of his highly muscled physique. This master seemed to enjoy the
clean-smelling sweat he exuded from his body and, it was obvious, delighted
in feeling, at his leisure, the warm black hide he was kneading. Dwanga was
always curious as to why white masters seemed to so enjoy use of his black
body, but then remembered plenty of black masters had used him also over
the years. It wasn't so much a color thing, he decided, as much as it was
the fact he was a slave and masters could do anything they wanted with a
slave, regardless of the slave's particular color. Dwanga knew that if
fortune reversed itself somehow and he was a master, the first thing he
would do is enjoy the body of a slaveboy - regardless of their color.  He
couldn't imagine owning a slave and not using their body for your
enjoyment. It was inherent in a master-slave relationship and certainly
part of any sensible slave-owning society.  Not that Dwanga was aware of
any society anywhere that wasn't slave owning in this day and age!

     Dwanga felt the master's prick begin to twitch in his throat and
instinctively constricted his throat muscles to afford the master the most
pleasure possible in discharging his load.  But the master was ahead of him
- he pulled out quickly and motioned for the slave to get on all fours with
his legs wide spread and his well-lubed hole clearly presented. Dwanga knew
exactly what he wanted and instantly assumed the standard slave position
for being fucked.  With no preliminaries or nary a word of comment, the
master slid deep into his hole and began thrusting vigorously while the
master's hands concentrated on kneading his ringed tits which were now
swollen and sensitive to the point of considerable pain. But Dwanga knew
the master couldn't last long at this rate of fucking him and the
manipulation of his nipples wouldn't last too much longer.  After all,
Dwanga, if nothing else, was one experienced slave when it came to being
fucked.  Other than rowing the galley whenever there was a party or Master
Holgate wanted to take a ride (in which case he was fucking himself with
the damn inserted dildos in the rowing benches) , that's about all he did
anymore - get fucked either by a master or by a plug forced up his butt
whenever he was used as a pony or, less often, as a galley slave.

     Sure enough, within minutes, he heard this Master Dallas began to pant
harder and harder as he plunged deep into him, and then moan as he emptied
his balls into the black slave's butt.  As soon as the master withdrew,
Dwanga knew to clean his prick with his mouth, removing all vestiges of the
master's spent cum along with his own lubrications that remained on the
master's shrinking staff.  He felt the master's cum oozing out of his anal
chute but paid little attention to it in that he was well used to that
feeling by this time in his life.

     "Where did you come from?" Master Dallas asked the black slave he had
just fucked.

     "Africa, Master," Dwanga answered respectfully.

     "Where in Africa, slave?" Master Dallas probed.

     "Master, I was raised in a tribal village deep into the Congo where my
people existed by the men hunting antelopes and elephants and the women
growing rice.  But mainly we survived by hunting people we could sell to
the professional slave dealers that came to our village once a year.  By
the time, they visited, we usually had a fairly good herd of slaves to sell
them - men, women, and children - all of whom we could trade for stable
food commodities, a little clothing, some pots and pans, some metal spears
and even a few guns. Am I talking too much, master?"

     "No, slave, continue," Dallas commanded.

     "One day, the slave dealers came and we had few slaves to offer them -
the hunt that year had yielded little in that most people had either
already been caught by others or had moved far away or were too young or
old to be of interest to the dealers.  So they got us all drunk and then
enslaved the whole village instead.  Within a week, we were marched in
chains to the huge slave market run for centuries by the Arabs in
Brazzaville where I and one other of my tribe was sold to a Holgate agent
who happened to be at the market the time I was up on the auction
block. The two of us were the most muscular and possessed the biggest
manhood of any of the young men within our tribe and both of us had been
told many times we were the most pleasing to the eye of all our tribe. From
there, the Holgate agent had us shipped to the Holgate mansion where I have
been several years now, Master, known as GS 24, one of Master Holgate's
black galley slaves."

     "Well, GS24, how old are you now?" Dallas asked.

     "Twenty-one years by my reckoning, Master, although I'm not sure,"
GS24 answered contritely.

     "Since you weren't born a slave, was it difficult for you to adjust to
your slavery?"

     "No, master.  It has been exactly as I expected, except Master Holgate
treats his slaves better than we treated slaves back in my village."

     "How so?" Dallas said with some curiosity, since the Holgate slaves
were well worked both in and out of bed.

     "We're nourished better with that slave chow they feed us and we're
not overworked where our bodies are damaged.  Master Holgate likes us
looking our best and makes sure we're healthy and hearty to do that.
Besides," he blushed a little, "we're rarely fucked more than five or six
times a day when we're not hitched up to a wagon or rowing, and usually
only once or twice if we're assigned those other duties. Compared to how we
used to fuck the attractive slaves back in our village, that's very
considerate since slaves are really nothing but property and can be used
anyway their master or mistress want."

     Dallas reflected that GS24, coming from a slave-holding community
himself, was psychologically well prepared for his life as a slave and had
adjusted to the demands placed upon him with relative ease. He would share
that insight with Charles, who felt the only "good and reliable " slaves
were ones bred to slavery, therefore knowing nothing else.

     But Dwanga (or GS24) had no time to reflect on his recollections.
Master Charles hooked a leash to his collar and, exchanging his white
litter bearer with Master Dallas, led him away to an upstairs bedroom where
he spent the next two hours being fucked on his back, bent over a bed, on
all fours, or on his knees sucking.  Indeed, Master Charles seemed
inexhaustible when it came to sex and when his new master finally dozed
off, Dwanga did likewise as rivers of cum oozed out of his ass and mouth.

******

     Lars, the nose-ringed Estonian slave now serving as one of Master
Holgate's prize blond litter bearers, had first been fucked by Master
Charles with little preliminaries, but almost as quickly found himself
exchanged for Master Dallas' black galley slave. Once that happened, Master
Dallas played with his long blond hair, fondled his huge banded genitals
just to the point or orgasm over and over, and suckled his ringed nipples
atop his well formed pectorals until they were swollen, tender and sore.
It was almost a relief when this new master finally entered his well lubed
hole and leisurely began to fuck him - a process that took hours of on-
again, off-again activity until his hole was as sore and tender as his
tits. When Master Dallas finally discharged deep into his bowels, he
thought he might get some rest, but was dead wrong on that score.  The rest
of the afternoon, Master Dallas had him leashed by his nose-ring feeding on
his prick and he was amazed the young Master could produce five different
discharges over the next hour or so, especially after the white slave
thought he had emptied himself in his bowels rather completely only a hour
or so before. But, eventually, Master Dallas had had his fill of the
beautiful blond slave and drifted off into an afternoon nap with his prick
again up the slave's ass and the white slave, previously named Lars,
nestled up to the master's body and napped also, ever conscious of how sore
his hole and tits were now.

     Lars was even now only 20, but only the last two years were
memorable. Up until 18, he had been a simple peasant boy, noted only for
his ability to produce a lot of hard work with his trim and handsome
muscular body and his skill in satisfying the local lasses' needs with his
huge and ever-ready sexual equipment.  Every widow and frustrated wife in
the village lusted after his body as well and, for a small fee or a
home-made pie, he accommodated them cheerfully.

     But, on his 18th birthday, he got drunk and allegedly raped the
mayor's daughter, although he could remember nothing of it. He was quickly
tried, sentenced to life imprisonment, and removed to Estonia's only prison
located some distance from his home village.  The prisonmeister, as the
administrative head was called, took one look at the youth stripped down at
delivery, and made a quick phone call, while ordering the boy be put into
protective custody to protect his "innocence."

     Within 48 hours, a Holgate agent was at the prison taking delivery of
his purchased goods, while the prisonmeister informed the aggrieved parents
of his unfortunate death at the hands of another prisoner.  He also
personally informed Lars that he was being sold as a slave to a foreign
buyer and that his family would get a monthly stipend for the loss of their
son, but that this pension would abruptly cease if he ever ran away from
his new "owner" or reappeared as a free man, thereby blocking any thoughts
of escape the new "slave" might be harboring.

     Within three hours, he was caged in the cargo hold of a air freighter
headed to the United States and two days later his cage was delivered by
truck to the Holgate mansion.  There he had all of his body hair
permanently removed save a pencil line beard, his long blond head hair and
his eyebrows and eyelashes. He was neatly circumcised (a custom not
practiced in his country), genitally banded to ensure proper display of his
sizeable manhood, had his tits ringed, had his nose septum pierced and then
fitted with a large "lead" ring (making him feel like a farm animal) and
tightly collared around his neck with a metal collar so tall it forced his
head into a permanent upright position.

     Following that sobering introduction into slavehood, he was chained by
his nose-ring to a Roman-style litter filled with weights and whip-trained
to lift, run, trot, prance, and lower the heavy litter to a number of
simple commands in English. Once he responded appropriately and without
hesitation to those English commands and his endurance had been built up
(along with his impressive muscular physique), he received further training
in standing absolutely still with a willing smile on his face as people
fondled all parts of his body, stroked his organ to full discharge,
squeezed and massaged his balls and tits at will, and stroked his face (and
any other part of him) to their heart's content. Once he no longer
grimaced, tremored, or quivered at being handled like this and no
resistance of any type was evident, he was placed in heavier training where
he learned how to swallow even the biggest pricks all the way down his
throat as he suckled unceasingly (including the discharges that inevitably
resulted from this), learned to take huge dildos and almost-as-large dicks
up his asshole without any resistance or flinching, learned how to control
his own orgasms to only when he was ordered to discharge so he didn't
debilitate his sexual enthusiasm for whoever was using him, and finally,
how to fuck the master or mistress who was primarily interested in using
him as a stud rather than a cum dump (again without any debilitating orgasm
on his part).  By the end of his training, Lars, the litter bearer, had
been turned into a sex machine on command who also could carry a loaded
litter all day long with little or no effort in perfect harmony with his
other three bearers hitched to the litter by their tit rings. Only then was
he rewarded with his assigned as a certified Holgate litter bearer - one of
many - all hugely muscled whites, all blonds with blue eyes, all hugely
hung, and all perfectly willing to let any and everyone use their bodies
anyway they wanted.  By then, of course, they were used to being leashed by
their nose-rings and would follow any master or mistress with no hesitation
by a simple tug on their nose leash whether it was to the nearest bed, to
be displayed as a sex pet, or hitched to a litter or wagon.

     Lars was usually kept leashed, chained, or caged but still there were
occasional opportunities to run away if he were so inclined. But where
would he go, naked, ringed, and penniless - easily identified as someone's
property. On top of that, his return to freedom would bring a quick halt to
his family's pension reimbursing them for the loss of their son. Besides,
Lars reflected, it sure as hell beat life imprisonment in some bleak
Estonian prison cell where he would be fed garbage, his ass and mouth used
by all the guards and anyone stronger than himself without mercy, and
probably die of malnutrition or disease within a few years, the well-known
fate of most Estonian long term prisoners. Yes, he was lucky to have ended
up as one of Master Holgate's famous blond litter bearers even though, like
now, he was in someone's bed as often as he was toting a litter.

     Just then, Master Charles awoke enough to jerk his nose leash and
begin fucking him once again.

*****

      Bedboy' had been left in the custody of one of this manor's house
slaves, a handsome black slave named Romulus, who had fastened his collar
leash to one of the restraining rings fitted into the parlor's wall. It was
obvious from the black slave's swollen prick that he wanted to fuck this
new white slave, but probably couldn't without his master's
permission. Feeling sorry for the black slave, he reached over and
tentatively took ahold of the black slave's prick and began stroking it.

     Romulus broke into a huge smile and thrust his organ further into the
leashed white slave's hand.

     "What does your owner call you?" Romulus asked, enjoying the
unexpected massage.

     "Bedboy," the white slave answered.

     ""Why aren't you shaved, Bedboy?" Romulus asked out of honest
curiosity, since almost all slaves were body shaved these days. "You're
awfully hairy."

     "Master Holgate likes his drivers white, fairly small, and with full
body hair for some reason or another.  I think it's because it makes a nice
contrast with the huge, muscular brutes were driving who are all kept
smooth, but I'm not sure," he said as he confidently stoked the black slave
more vigorously and with his other hand began gently massaging the black
slave's large balls."

     "What does a driver do?" Romulus asked with considerable innocence

     "Uses the whip on the galley and pony slaves to insure they're putting
forth their best effort at all times, regardless," Bedboy answered by rote.
"In plain language, we beat the hell out of the slaves in yoke or impaled
on the galley benches until their blood mixes with the sweat and paints a
nice picture of total subjugation on their backs and rumps. If they howl in
pain, all the better according to the masters and if they collapse in their
yokes, we're expected to beat them until they're back at it once again.
They give us all sorts of whips to use: braided ones that sting more than
tear the skin, the steel-tipped whips that tear their hide into shreds, the
rhino whips that tear the muscle under the skin and cause indescribable
pain, and the bull whips when the slave's life is about over anyway and
there is only the organ salvage value to concern yourself with. It takes a
good two months of heavy training to become a slave driver that meets the
master's satisfaction.  Your job is to motivate a slave under the yoke to
maximum effort without permanently depreciating the value of the slave
himself - it's an art to find the best compromise.  When you've found it,
your master is satisfied and you don't risk being sold off to a far worse
fate.

     "But, in the case of the Holgate drivers, that alone isn't enough.  We
also have to be handsome, cute in our smallness, agile in a master's bed,
well hung ourselves, and totally accepting of any use of our bodies by our
betters, including the slave stewards and overseers.  Behind all that is
the steady fear of finding ourselves caged with those we've driven with the
whips - it's every driver's nightmare.  In fact, the best way to discipline
a slave driver is to threaten to kennel him with those under your whip.
Just the thought of it makes you do anything - anything - to please a
master, let me tell you."

     "Well, I don't think you have to worry here too much, Bedboy," Romulus
said as he started stroking the muscled slave's penis and nipples in
return. "I heard the dockmaster say both of my masters had picked you to
pleasure them. I doubt if they'd want you torn up by the black galley slave
or the white litter bearer assuming they were under your whip at one point
or another."

     "Of course they were, Romulus," Bedboy replied.  "I drove them here in
harness under my whip and the blood on their backs proves it.  A slave
doesn't forget that lightly."

     Romulus laughed softly as he continued his gentle manipulations.
"Slaves aren't dumb, Bedboy.  They know you as a slave yourself have no
choice but to beat them and that you're simply following their master's
orders.  Besides, I'm sure they're aware you're bedded down and fucked as
much as they are - well, maybe not as much - but fucked plenty anyway.
After all, both my masters wanted to fuck you and, believe me, they will.
I'm glad you're here, Bedboy.  It will give my ass a chance to heal and
maybe with some rest, my nipples will get back to normal."

     "You mean, Romulus, you're the usual outlet for your masters' needs?"
Bedboy asked.

     "Well, not entirely.  They have a number of slaves around to fulfill
their needs, including a handsome newly-acquired Egyptian boy, but he's
just a current novelty.  But I'm in heavy usage as they say and have been
ever since they have owned me.  Besides, Bedboy, they plan to breed from
you, I think, although I can't imagine why with your size.  Maybe they want
a few little slave pups that are cute rather than huge.  There's always a
market, especially among mistresses, for a cute little male slave with big
equipment I imagine.  Some slave dealers specialize in such properties, I
understand," Romulus added meaningfully.

     "Jesus, I've never been bred before, but I suppose there is always a
first time," Bedboy shuttered. "If that's the case, you better stop stoking
me or I won't be worth a damn at stud."

     "Oh!  I hadn't thought of that," Romulus said contritely as he quickly
released his hands from the slave's body. "I was just trying to comfort you
- you seemed so anxious being loaned out like this.  Where did you come
from, anyway?"

     "It's ironic in view of what you just told me, but I'm a bred slave
myself.  Produced at a breeding operation right here in America - not too
far from here actually - that turns out all sorts of specimens on a pretty
massive scale considering how long it takes their product to become fully
marketable."

     "What's their yearly output?" Romulus asked, very interested in the
idea slaves could be made to order and in great quantity.

     "0h, at least 5000, I'd say, judging from how full the pens always
were."

     "Are they all like you?" Romulus said in his innocence at the idea of
bred slaves.

     "Hell no, Romulus.  Only a few like me - small, white and hairy for
specialized markets.  They had blacks as big and smooth as you and just as
well hung, hairless Asian boys and girls as docile as sheep, Mediterranean
types with olive-colored skins and dark eyes, brutish blacks so big you
were scared to even look tat them, and loads and loads of whites - mainly
blonds with blue or green eyes, huge physiques, and so heavy hung you
wouldn't believe it - well, maybe you would believe it if you're seen the
Holgate properties. That white litter slave we brought over was common
enough at the breeding farm and the huge muscular black galley slave -
there were plenty just like him at the breeding farm also, although most of
them weren't quite that black, more of a brown, I'd say.  That black galley
slave is from Africa - the ones at the breeding farm are from American
stock primarily."

     "How come they turn out like that?" Romulus asked, obviously not
thinking this through.

     "Selective breeding, dummy," Bedboy laughed.  "You pick the right stud
and the right brood mare and, nine times out of ten, you get just about
what you had in mind."

     "My masters are trying to do that too on a small scale," Romulus
observed.  "That's why they're going to breed all three of you to their
wenches that are in heat.  They want to produce some nice looking, well
hung mulatto slaves that will sell well for a variety of uses - of course
slaves headed for a mistress or master's bed will bring the best prices as
they are well aware - purchasing slaves themselves from time to time, but
there's still money to be made in slaves headed for the assembly plants,
construction work, road crews, and the mines. That's where they plan to get
rid of the runts of the litter or where they didn't pick the stud and brood
carefully enough."

     "I don't know of any masters not trying to pick up a little extra on
the side by breeding their slaves nowadays. They keep this up and they'd
flood the market eventually - pretty soon slaves like us won't be worth
much at a market and then slaves in general are in for big trouble."

     "Why?" Romulus said, revealing he wasn't the brightest slave on the
block.

     "Look, stupid.  If slaves get cheap enough, they become disposable.
Once that happens, we're not worth feeding properly, worth getting decent
treatment, or are subject to getting the quick buck by working us to death
in short order.  Doesn't take a genius to figure that one out.  The more we
cost, we better care we get.  That's why being in the league of a Holgate
slave is paradise - we're too valuable to NOT take care of."

     "Makes sense, Bedboy.  Masters Dallas and Charles paid plenty for me
and, other than fucking me half to death, they take good care of me.  I
can't complain."

     "As if complaining would do a slave any good," Bedboy said, disgusted
at Romulus' apparent lack of getting the big picture involved in
contemporary slavery.

*****

     It was a good thing Romulus hadn't actually milked the hairy small
white slave for soon Dallas showed up and took him by his collar leash to
his own bedroom where he fucked the small white thoroughly.  When he had
finished, Charles was right there and again the slave was led by his collar
leash to the other master's bedroom where again he was fucked throughly.
Both masters seemed to be fascinated with a slave with hair on his body and
played with it the entire time they were enjoying fucking him.

     That evening, the dinner entertainment consisted of Romulus being
fucked by first the black galley slave and then the white litter bearer,
both of whom were delighted to be allowed sexual release in this manner.
But then, the small hairy white slave, who had been keep busy sucking both
masters under the table during this time, was ordered up onto the table
himself and the black galley slave was ordered to fuck him for the master's
amusement.

     "Remember, he's the one who put the blood on your back," they reminded
the black as he swiftly mounted the white slave who was on all fours and
shuddering in abject fear.

     But Bedboy need not have been so fearful.  GS24 fucked him forcefully
and hard, but not with vengence or malice.  When the white litter bearer
was also ordered to fuck the small hairy white slave, although not gentle
by any means, he didn't tear him to pieces either, although with his large
equipment he could have done so if he wanted.

     "Romulus, who he had thought was dumb, wasn't so dumb afterall."
Bedboy thought to himself as he remained on all fours with his legs wide
apart taking the rigorous fucking atop the dining table while the two
masters enjoyed the sight. "Romulus understands slave mentality better than
I do," Bedboy reflected as the pounding up his ass continued.  "These
slaves fucking me understand I have to beat them because of my master's
orders.  They would do the same in my place." With that last thought, he
felt gratitude, rather than malice, toward the slaves pounding his ass so
roughly and forcefully. They could kill him, right here on the dining room
table, and he got the impression that Masters Dallas and Charles wouldn't
mind all that much, even having to pay Master Holgate for the loss of his
property. "There's sort of a fraternity of slaves," he thought as he felt
Lars, the nose-ringed litter bearer, empty a huge load well up his hole
with a resounding shudder throughout his body. "I'm glad Lars got his rocks
off at last," Bedboy thought.  "At least I can do that for him in return
for his kindness in not killing his torturer once he's in harness."

******

     "Shall be start the breeding tonight and get a head start on it?"
Dallas asked Charles as the fucking of the hairy white slave in front of
them continued.

     "Why not? I suggest we start with this one getting fucked so royally.
We should put him with that small black wench assigned to the kitchen
staff.  The steward tells me she's in heat now and will take readily
enough.  The git should be small, well hung, and hairy if it's a male pup;
small and pretty if it's a female pup. I'll douche the bitch with vinegar
before we put him to her - that will increase our chances of getting a male
pup out of the breeding or so they say," Charles replied.

     "Well, I'll get the slaveboy down here on the floor and stroke him
until he's hard and dripping and ready to breed - no need to clean his ass
out, is there? " Dallas asked, "while you're having the bitch give herself
a good vinegar douche.  Tell her we want a male pup out of this and we want
her taking on the first fuck.  A good whipping if we have to put her under
a stud a second time."

     With that, Bedboy was humping away into the vinegar-flavored cunt of
the young slave girl who had slivered beneath his sweaty body on the floor
in a corner of the dining room while both the slaves he had delivered
watched along with Romulus, the newly-acquired Egyptian slave and his two
masters. Being watched as he fucked a cunt for the first time only added to
his sexual drive and in no time at all he delivered a huge load of fresh
slave seed into the wench beneath him. He hoped for her sake she'd take
with that load.  He hated to see a slave whipped over something a breeding
wench had little control over. That's why he had made sure he had delivered
as big a load as he knew how to do, despite the fact it left him shivering
in exhaustion.

     "You give her a full load, slave?" Master Charles asked as Bedboy's
felt his balls being squeezed tightly by the master to make sure they were
fully emptied.

     "Yes, master," Bedboy answered, sweat covering his body as he tried to
catch his breath from the vigorous fucking.

     "Well, if she doesn't catch, we'll have you humping your heart out,
you little bastard, as well as put some real men to the task," looking over
at the huge black galley slave and the hugely hung litter slave.

     That night, GS24 and the white litter slave named Lars were again
fucked by both masters repeatedly.  By morning, both masters were
completely exhausted as were the loaned slaves they had leashed to their
beds.  Nothing much happened until noon the next day unless you counted
Romulus and the Egyptian slaveboy cleaning the house, doing the laundry,
and completing all the gardening tasks they were expected to do. Bedboy had
been caged after being force-mated and was still curled up in the cramped
pen giving his drained balls a chance to fill up completely again. He had a
feeling he was to be bred repeatedly before he went back to the Holgate
pens.

******

     Bedboy was right.  During the next 24 hours, he and Lars were put to
the black kitchen wench every three hours, first Lars and, three hours
later, Bedboy, so every six hours each of their balls were emptied in the
attempt to produce a mulatto slave pup, either small cute one or a large
veritable stud with blond hair.  GS24 had a busier breeding schedule: every
four hours he fucked a white slave wench also assigned to the kitchen who
had never been mated with a black before and found the experience exotic if
not somewhat painful due to the black stud's huge size.  By the time of
their leaving, the breeding projects had been successful: both wenches were
knocked up once again and on their way to producing yet another sellable
possession for their master. The wenches were actually grateful they were
pregnant again: they escaped the severe punishment they would have received
if they hadn't of conceived for their master's benefit and they enjoyed
being mated with such good looking specimens of manhood who were well
equipped to offer them maximum pleasure in the prescribed couplings.

     Masters Dallas and Charles had all three loaned slaves suck them off
two or three times during the day, knowing sucking a master would in no way
effect their output - maybe even enhance it with the input of their own
seed into the slave's stomachs to digest.  And, of course, they fucked
Romulus and the Egyptian slave once during the day for good measure.

     Soon enough, it was time to return the loaned slaves and the
dockmaster showed up exactly as scheduled in the golden surrey, again drawn
by three slaves: a black galley slave; a white litter bearer, and the
striking mulatto with green eyes.  All three, loaned out themselves over
the past 48 hours, had obviously weathered their usage well enough to be
back in full harness once again, although they didn't look quite as frisky
as before and their penises were only showing half-hard this time around
despite their tight genital rings.

     As the white driver hitched GS24 and Lars back into full harness and
was busily putting in their bits, placing their headdress in place, and
inserting their "tails" once again, the dockmaster reminded Masters Charles
and Dallas of the demonstration he promised he would do for them with their
slave Romulus, i.e., fucking Romulus right here on the street for their
entertainment.

     The two masters had completely forgotten about the earlier invitation
and quickly called Romulus out to the street and on all fours with his
knees spread wide.  But Romulus hadn't forgotten and had prepared for the
event carefully by a series of enemas (routine in the morning anyway)
followed by a particularly heavy lubing taking into account the size of the
dockmaster's equipment.  As he had told the dockmaster earlier in his phone
conversations, he wasn't adverse to being fucked by the handsome large
black overseer if his owners consented to his being used like this and
actually welcomed the novelty involved.

     The dockmaster wasted no time, fearful Romulus' owners might change
their minds in use of their property, and without any hesitation hunched
over the black slave offered, shoved his huge penis up the offered
butthole, and wrapped his large hands around the slave's muscular waist for
stability.

     As he began vigorously fucking the black slave beneath him, the
dockmaster whispered into Romulus' ear.

     "I told you I'd fuck your pretty black ass and it's just as delightful
as I thought it would be, slaveboy.  If I owned you, I'd keep you so
stuffed you'd never walk again, you black bastard. You'd think you had died
and gone to slave heaven," he gasped as he humped away forcefully.

     "Um," was all that came out of Romulus throat and, indeed, he was
fully enjoying the skillful fucking of his ass by the magnificent hunk of
black flesh atop him. The slaves in harness, stimulated by the plugs deep
inside them once again, quickly became hard and dripping as they took in
the erotic sight (and even the hot smell of sex) in front of them. Bedboy
practically drooled as he took in the sight, having secretly longed to be
fucked by the dockmaster for several years now.

     But it didn't take long until the dockmaster was moaning from the
sexual tension building within him and, with several long forceful plunges
all the way into the beautiful brown slave beneath him, sprayed his load
deep into Romulus' chute with a final gasp that could be heard a block
away. Romulus was so excited he too shot his load, spilling a large pool of
white cum beneath him with squeals of joy and delight.

     "Apparantly, the dockmaster knows how to massage a slave's prostate
with his huge instrument," Dallas said wryly, "if that pool under Romulus
is any example."

     "The dockmaster promised us a good show and I'd say he delivered,"
Charles laughed.  "Black on black always excites me, but this was great,"
he added, once again displaying his well known preferences for black slave
flesh, all things being equal.

     "Well done, dockmaster," Charles shouted out as the dockmaster
extracted his huge tool from the house slave of the two masters. "Master
Holgate would be proud of you."

     "Thank you, master," the dockmaster replied humbly with down cast eyes
as he quickly assumed his seat in the surrey beside the driver who now held
the harnessed slave's reins and had his whip ready in hand.

     Those harnessed had all been fucked numerous times by the dockmaster,
of course, as was his privilege as their overseer, and all understood you
knew you had been fucked like never before after the dockmaster had taken
his pleasure with your body.  They looked at Romulus, still unmoving on his
hands and knees, starring down at the pool of his own cum beneath him. His
open hole was still quivering from the dockmaster's usage. They had all
been in his place and understood why he felt temporarily paralyzed.

     They were jarred out of their reverie when the dockmaster signaled the
driver to get under way and instantly the whip was again fiercely biting
into the harnessed slaves' rumps and shoulders and soon after that they
felt the huge plug deep within them begin churning away, giving them the
feeling they were being fucked with each step they took.  It had been a
pleasant relief from all this to be loaned out for 48 hours to some strange
set of masters who little more than fucked them, had them suck them off,
and put them to a couple of quivering young breeding wenches over and
over. If was certainly better than a constant whip on your back and a huge
tail implant impersonally churning in and out of your hole with each step
you took. But they knew this wouldn't last too long.  They remembered the
dockmaster told them the waiting list for their usage was over 10 weeks
long and, even now, they were on their way to the next master or mistress
on the list, whoever it might be. When the list was gone, would there be
another party scheduled by Master Holgate?  Would they be rented out for
added profit (it had happened in lapse periods in the past)? Or would they
be put to pasture for a while (along with a vigorous forced exercise
program) to get their assholes tightened up, their sexual skills freshened,
and their bodies totally rested?  During the last "rest period" several
years ago, the herd had been culled and a few aging colleagues were sold
off, those completely worn out were shipped off to the organ banks, and
those making the cut had been sharpened' through heavy discipline and new
training programs.

     But none of these Holgate slaves had to worry about that now - after
all, the list for usage wouldn't be satisfied for at least another 10 weeks
and by then, if history was any indicator, Master Holgate would have
planned another one of his famous parties.

     Dallas and Charles took their spent slave Romulus back into the house,
ordering him to cleanse himself inside and out for their use that
afternoon.  Before that, they intended to get out the appropriate thank-you
note to David Holgate for the generous use of his three slaves.  When they
had hastily signed up for the those slave's usage on their way to the
inside of the Holgate mansion (and then forgot all about them in the
activities of the long evening), they never dreamed the magnanimous host
had a scheme for every guest getting to use every single piece of slave
flesh they had signed up for - and then some, considering his generosity in
inviting them to be used as breeding stock.  They wanted to word their
thank-you note in such a way they could wrestle another party invitation
out of him and possibly win even another handsome slave in one of his party
lotteries.

     Alas, the Holgate lottery prize they had won at the last party was
long gone. They had been offered so much for the incredibly handsome
muscular blond slave by a female friend, neither of them felt they could
afford to keep such an expensive piece of stock on hand. The huge blond
slave's new mistress was obviously to his liking - when the sale was first
proposed, the slave they had named Viking' literally dripped in sexual
excitement just at the thought of being owned by a mistress and the offer
was 10 times over what they had paid for Romulus, let alone the relatively
cheap Egyptian boy they had acquired since then.

     "He's too rich for our blood," was Charles' iconic comment on the
mistress' outlandish offer for her potential new blond bedbuck.

     "By all that dripping just looking at her, it's obvious the slave
prefers a mistress over a master, no matter how handsome and appealing the
masters are.  Slaves can't have preferences, but he's never dripped like
that looking at us," Dallas dryly added.

     With that, Viking' had a new owner, his previous two masters were
considerably wealthier, and the blond slave now found himself in his new
mistress' bed carefully following her every command.

      But back to the problem of the thank-you note. Perhaps they would
send Romulus and the Egyptian slave (with an invitation to use them
attached to their slave collars) to the Holgate mansion with the
well-worded thank-you note.  But then, what were their slave's attractions
compared to the Holgate properties?  Just as well to send it using a
standard slave courier.  But a follow-up call in a few days might not be
too officious.  They could use the success of the forced matings as an
excuse.

     Well, one could only hope.  Little did they know that as they were
composing the thank- you notes, David Holgate was busily planning his next
party to be staged in four months time.  By then, all the stock would be
through meeting their obligations to the guests of the previous party, had
plenty of time to rest and be culled, plenty of time to learn a few new
skills, and plenty of time to orient new stock to the Holgate standards and
expectations. His good friend, Claude DuPree was helping him work out the
details each and every day.  "What Marco Polo Really Discovered" was to be
the theme and the settings would include medieval Venice, most of the
Middle East, India and, of course, ancient Cathay. There would be
magnificent slave- powered barges on Venician canals, Arabian male harems
better than anyone's imagination to date, handsome Indian temple slaves
with unbelievable sexual skills, and Chinese royal pleasure courts even the
ancient Chinese emperors would envy.  All 650 of his slaves would have
prominent roles in the production (as David Holgate liked to think of his
parties) and plans included the slaves earning every bit of their keep and
then some before the party was over.  Cost was no object.  He kept in mind
throughout the planning that he had a reputation to maintain: he couldn't
rest on his laurels when he was "THE VOLUPTUARY."

THE VOLUPTUARY

by Bill Smith

CHAPTER 20

THE SECOND PARTY: WHAT MARCO POLO REALLY DISCOVERED

Three months later:

     Apparently, their strategy for another party invitation paid
off. Dallas Upland and his partner Charles Gilbrado had both obtained
invitations for their second Holgate party.  The fabulous party, to be held
only 30 days in the future, was teasingly being announced as "What Marco
Polo Really Discovered," and publicly stated in the invitation that it
would outdo all other Holgate parties.  It was sure to be the talk of the
town!

     Whether Dallas and Charles had been invited to their second Holgate
party because they had so promptly and sincerely thanked him for use of
Master Holgate's three properties (the black galley slave, the white litter
bearer, and the white unshaved galley overseer they had preferenced at
their first party and had been delivered for their use two weeks later) or
whether David Holgate genuinely enjoyed their company would never be known.
The two were overjoyed they had both reached the "second invitation" level
from David Holgate, a.k.a.  The Voluptuary,' a guaranteed social status in
that alone.

     The invitation to their second party had been delivered in a way only
The Voluptuary' could come up with.  An extremely handsome fully naked
Holgate slave had arrived at their door and promptly dropped to his knees.
The courier was heavily muscled, brown-skinned and blue eyed, and "dressed"
in heavy tit rings, a thick band around his exceptionally large genitals, a
tall heavy collar that forced his head into a permanently upright position,
and with a smart-looking small nose ring that matched the metal of his
collar.  There was a huge smile on the slave's face which showed off his
perfect white teeth as he looked up at David and Charles eagerly.  The
slave leaned forward as they stared at him and kissed each of their feet as
an opening gesture.  Then, with a strained look on his handsome face, he
literally laid an egg: in this case a large ostrich-egg sized copper
container was expelled from the slave's anus and fell on the entry floor
beneath him.  The slave quickly scooped up the grease covered copper egg,
screwed it apart to reveal some papers inside, and presented the opened
egg' to the two astonished masters so they didn't have to touch the greasy
egg' itself, only the contents.  The handsome slave waited as they gingerly
lifted out the contents (a parchment invitation and a response card), his
knees spread wide to best show off his semi-erect cock and large balls as
his position also displayed his well-defined abs, his puffy pectorals, his
ringed tits, and his heavily muscled collared neck.

     "My God," Charles exclaimed as he took the parchment invitation in
hand.  "It's still hot from the slave's body."

     "Has that great big metal egg been up your ass the entire way over
here?" Dallas asked with a chuckle.

     "Yes, master," the slave said, his smile continuing.  "And I'll carry
your reply back the same way, master.  The steward says they're more secure
that way," in a tone that conveyed he thought it all very logical and made
good sense.

     "But,... isn't it hard to run with that up your butt, slave?" Charles
interjected.  "That copper egg is a lot bigger than any prick put up your
hole, I'd wager."

     "Yes, master," was all the courier slave could think to reply.  But
then he added, "You get used to it, master, after a while."

     Charles carefully studied the calligraphed invitation to the next
party that included directions to mark the enclosed response card' as to
whether they would be able to attend or not, put that card back in the
metal container, and the courier slave would screw the egg back together
and then re-insert the egg' up his ass for the return trip.  Or, of course,
the recipient of the invitation could insert the egg himself in the slave
if he so wanted.  Dallas and Charles quickly checked their acceptance of
the invitation with a satisfied chuckle, placed it back in the open egg'
still in the slave's outreached hands, and motioned for him to turn around
with his ass presented to them conveniently.  The two masters then jointly
rammed the now closed egg up the asshole of the brown skinned , heavily
hung muscular slave who grunted and grimaced slightly as the large
container was thrust back up his ass, but quickly thanked them as he kissed
both their feet and, with the grace of a gazelle (despite the large
protrusion up his ass), leaped to his feet and took off running back to the
party coordinator at the Holgate slave pens presumably.

     Dallas and Charles clutched the invitation in their hand, happy they
had now reached a new social distinction - a second Holgate
invitation. Upon returning to the interior of their house, they quickly
celebrated in their usual fashion: Charles fucked the black house slave
Romulus (always handy for just that purpose) and Dallas fucked their
Egyptian slave who continued to serve his two new masters even better than
when he had first been purchased several months ago.  Now the Egyptian
wasn't surprised when Dallas snapped his fingers and motioned for him to
get on all fours for a good fucking - he had long ago learned to make sure
his chute was completely cleaned out and well lubed for just such usage at
all times.

     Soon the two house slaves had warm cum dripping out of their well-used
holes and were cleaning their master's shafts with their mouths before
lapping up any ass juices and spent cum off of the well polished floors.
Their masters were already planning what they would wear to the party and
if they would take one of their slaves with them this time.

     Since the party theme was "What Marco Polo Really Discovered," Dallas
and Charles first decided they would wear only a richly decorated tunic
typical of 13th century Venice that could be quickly removed if this
Holgate party was anything like the last one.  They reasoned they would
need the covering only for getting to and from the party and probably would
have nothing on during the party itself if the party activities were up to
the usual Holgate standards where clothing of any type would only be an
incumbrance. The second decision was to not take any of their own slaves -
their experience at the last Holgate party told them personal slaves were
only in the way, were totally unnecessary in view of the surfeit of Holgate
slaves designated for their use, and, frankly, no slave they owned could
really measure up to the Holgate standards where exceptional was the norm
and even the kitchen help was standard- setting for slave pulchritude and
sex appeal.

     That decided, they reread the invitation again and pondered what small
hints were in it concerning the party itself: there was mention of Indian
temple slaves, an Arabic harem, and Cathay Royal Palace slaves. It sounded
like David Holgate III planned to outdo himself once again with this new
party. Well, he apparently had the money to do it and, with 650 of the
world's most attractive slaves attached to his mansion alone, he certainly
had the menagerie on hand to pull off most anything he could dream up.

A week later:

     As Charles and David arrived at the Holgate dock on the river where
the fabled mansion was located, they were immediately escorted onto a
Venetian barge comfortably accommodating about 20 passengers at a time on
its upper deck which featured a glass floor and lots of naked male slave
waiters, all apparently at the end of their teen years and all completely
body shaved, bearing various canapes and drinks.  Every waiter was white,
green- eyed, black-haired, well endowed and was showing hard as they
circulated among the invited guests.  Beneath them, visible through the
glass floor, the guests could look down on rows of sweating oarsmen, all
chained in place on their rowing benches, all completely naked, and all
muscular, jet black, completely body shaved, and to a man, fully erect.

     "Looks familiar," Charles said, staring down through the glass floor
at the hyper- muscular slaves beneath them.  "But this time, we both know
the secret of keeping them hard all the time," he laughed.

     "If you had that peg up your ass, you'd be hard too," Dallas laughed,
revealing he too knew the secret.  Holgate galley slaves were seated on
huge dildos implanted in the rowing benches themselves - every movement of
the slaves so impaled led to fucking themselves.  As if to demonstrate how
the system worked, a whip cracked over the backs of the chained oarsmen and
the galley began to move away from the dock as the black slaves worked both
the oars in their hands and their asses impaled on the implanted dildos. A
communal moan drifted up from the deck below as the slaves reacted not only
to the overseer's whip but also to the fucking motions in their well
stretched assholes.  Soon the smell of the slave's heavy sweat also drifted
up to the top deck as the overseer's constant whip spurred the oarsmen into
heavy action and the huge galley rapidly glided up the river toward the
mansion itself.

     "I don't see any numbers on either the slaves serving us or the ones
rowing below," Dallas commented.  "I wonder if our host didn't want to
obligate himself sending them out for weeks afterwards on his guests' whims
of the moment.  I thought it was a little over the top, even though I did
enjoy the three slaves he sent over to us for two days."

     "Nor any silly little pads of paper to write the numbers down,"
Charles replied.  "Maybe the famous Voluptuary' has come up with something
else equally extravagant," he added as he began fondling the waiter nearest
him, a well hung handsome white boy who was fitted with a shiny thick band
around his genitals matching his unusually tall slave collar which forced
his head into a permanent upright position. The waiter stood absolutely
still as the guest fondled his tits and balls, his only movement the
tilting of his pelvis forward and spreading his legs apart to better
facilitate the handling of his balls.  The tray of drinks he was holding
remained on the palm of his upstretched hand with nary a jiggle.  Charles
reached up with one hand and took one of the drinks on the tray, put it
underneath the boy's large erect prick, and slowly stroked the slave's huge
organ until he produced a full load of steaming hot cum into the drink
itself.  Other than a gasp as he went into orgasm, the slave never moved
beyond a slight shudder as he emptied his balls into the drink.  Even the
drinks on the tray still in his upraised hand never spilled a drop.

     "Holgate slaves are so damn well trained," Charles said as he took
swizzle stick and mixed the fresh cum into his drink.  "Can you imagine
that Egyptian boy we bought being able to hold a tray of drinks steady at
shoulder height while we jerked him off?"

     "He couldn't even hold himself steady as he spurted off, let alone not
spill the tray all over the floor," Dallas chuckled.

     By this time, the replica of the 13th century Venetian galley was
nearing the dock on the other side of the river leading up to the Holgate
mansion. The pegs up the rowers' ass were showing their effectiveness:
beneath them, Dallas and Charles noted that practically every black slave's
thighs were coated with a thick coating of white cum that had just recently
spurted out of their banded genitals. The stint on the oars had gone
exactly as planned: each slave had fucked himself into an orgasm which
could be shared with the guests looking down on them through the glass
floor.

     "Do you think they shoot off every trip across the river?" Dallas
laughed as he and Charles took in the sight below them.

     "Maybe," Charles replied.  "There's about 20 on this galley.  I
suppose he has about 100 guests.  That's five trips over and five trips
back.  Hell, that would be 10 loads altogether. Even the best trained
blacks couldn't produce that much!"

     As soon as they disembarked from the galley, the riddle was solved.
The galley simply floated back to the dock on the other side of the river -
they had come upstream the entire way.  Therefore, the black rowers didn't
had to churn their butts on the dildos deep within them on the return trip
and could store up for the next trip upstream with guests.  They would only
shoot off five times that way, not 10.

     "Clever," Charles announced as he watched the galley float silently
back to its original mooring. "That way, each load of guests gets a good
show, the slaves only have to shoot off five times in succession, and it
sure as hell saves wear and tear on their backs.  See, the overseers have
put their whips back in their belts for the little cruise back."

     "Still, there was quite a bit of blood from the whips on the way
over," Dallas commented.  "And being fucked five times to an full discharge
is a lot of wear and tear on the slave's prostates, let alone their chutes,
no matter how heavily they're lubricated.  God, they must stuff those
slave's asses with so much K-Y, they're oozing for a week after this."

     "Well, we've had Romulus shoot off five times within a hour once when
we both fucked him over and over and he seemed to weather it OK," Charles
chuckled.  "And that damn Egyptian boy we bought never seems to run dry. Of
course, he's usually on the other end of things - drinking it down, not
pumping it out."

     "Remember that blond boy we won at Holgate's last party?  The one we
sold off - at a very nice price, I might add - to the lady that had the
hots for him?"

     "Yeah. What about him?" Dallas replied as he studied the other guests
making their way up to the mansion's entrance from the dock they had just
stepped off of.  Most of the guests, he noticed, had chosen the same attire
as they had - a classic Venetian tunic that could easily be slipped on or
off with little or nothing underneath.  He also noticed that absolutely
none of them, on this batch of guests at least, had encumbered themselves
with a personal slave of their own.  Obviously, they were all repeat
Holgate guests and knew from experience that a slave of their own under tow
would only be in the way and would prove an embarrassment - hardly any
slaves available in the markets could begin to compare to the Holgate
slaves, carefully selected from markets all over the world or actually bred
to order at one of the Holgate slave-breeding operations.

     "Well," Charles continued, "no matter how much we fucked him, he
rarely shot off and, when he did, it was just a little dribble. Usually, he
wasn't even hard when we pumped his butt.  I'm surprised that new mistress
of his hasn't demanded her money back since she bought him for her bed
primarily."

     "His heart wasn't in it," Dallas replied.  "He was really perverted.
Only liked women using him and never could seem to get into a master using
him. When we used him to stud one of our female slaves for breeding
purposes, he had no trouble at all pumping a huge load into the brood,
you'll remember.  Everytime we used him, he went along with it, but you'll
remember he seldom got hard unless we deliberately fondled him to an
erection, and even that took a long time.  I bet that new mistress of his
is totally satisfied and he has no trouble at all getting it up for her
and," he paused with a sigh, "pumps a huge load into her each and every
time.  My guess is he's a real stud with a women using him."

     "We were lucky to get rid of him," Charles agreed.  "And at such a
price, too!  But I was really surprised a Holgate slave was so limited.
You would think a Holgate slave would have received complete training
before they were given away as party prizes."

     "You'd think," Dallas chuckled.  "But I guess training can only do so
much.  He was always cooperative, never refused any order, and tried his
best.  But I suppose you can't completely overcome nature in every case.
That blond stud was just born that way and the whips and prods and all the
other stuff just brought about compliance, not genuine enthusiasm for the
task at hand - namely, really getting into it with a master's demands.
Now, Romulus, that's something else.  My guess is, if he were free, the
only difference would be he'd be fucking a male slave of his own instead of
the other way around."

     "That's evident.  Look how he's always sniffing around that Egyptian
slave trying to get our permission to stick his dick up that boy's ass,
claiming it's for our amusement all the time," Charles laughed.

     By this time, Dallas and Charles were only with the other guests and
not a slave was in sight.  For most of this crowd, the absence of slaves
made them nervous somehow and they began to look around for some sign of
the usual Holgate hospitality.

     They didn't have long to wait.  As soon as this bunch of guests were
within 10 feet of the entry door to the mansion, the door burst open as if
by magic and inside, the guests could see a re-creation of Medieval Venice,
complete with costumed and naked attendant slaves everywhere, sedan chairs,
street vendors, open slave markets, naked acrobats, and even street- side
pastry shops. All the Venetian slaves presented were of the usual Holgate
quality: handsome to a fault; muscular with well defined bodies devoid of
hair below the neck, a willing and inviting smile on their faces, and
extraordinarily well hung. The few slaves clothed for the occasion wore
only a few garments which only added to their sexuality in that they
heightened rather than hid the slave's bodily assets.  Almost all the
slaves featured genitals bands, ear and tit rings, and shiny metal collars
so tall they forced the slave's had into a permanently upright position. As
was usual with Holgate slaves, all of them seemed to be perpetually erect,
with most dripping in need.

     After Charles and Dallas, along with the other arriving guests,
savored the phantasmagorical sight for the first time, they discovered they
weren't the first batch of guests to arrive - indeed they seemed to be the
last from the huge number already there - at least 100, maybe more.  Coming
out of adjoining halls were guests returning from sites excited at
witnessing, according to their animated jabber: an Arabian male harem
filled with naked specimens the likes of which they had never seen,
collected form all over the world and representing every shade of slave
known to man; an Indian Temple filled with "religious devotees" - all eager
extremely handsome young brown-skinned Indian males serving their God with
wanton use of their bodies; and a Cathay palace filled with yellow-skinned
Chinese male servants obviously carefully selected for their manly beauty
and willingness to serve any desire a guest could come up with.  In-between
each of the special "themed" rooms were medieval style "slave markets"
where a plentitude of gorgeous slaves were chained to display podiums stark
naked in piquant poses and "sold" free to any guests wanting them for the
evening. Slaves presented in the "markets" were totally body shaved or
hairy, every color from jet black to albino white, every size from 5' to
7'6", and every look from brutally masculine to almost delicate.  All they
had in common was they were all definitely male - all were very heavy hung
with large balls to match; all were definitely slaves - each was branded,
collared and chained and bore a slave's look of willing subservience; and
all were well trained - each thrust their large erect organs out
provocatively with an inviting smile whenever any guests even gave them a
glance.  It was obvious David Holgate had outdone himself once again in
lavish parties and this time around was simply thrusting all 650 of his
highly select slaves onto his guests right from the beginning.

     Overwhelmed with the onslaught of available male meat, the guests took
their time in "buying" slaves from the open markets, fondling and pawing
over the handsome chained bodies at their disposal.  So much so that some
of the holdings spewed off in the guests hands as they were vigorously
fondled, often with such huge loads the guests were astonished that a
slave's balls could hold that much cum in reserve.  Such responses only
heightened the guests' interest in the market holdings and, before long,
all the slaves "up for sale" found their bodies being pawed, stroked,
squeezed and fondled until the markets began smelling of hot cum, the body
sweat of the slave's sexual excitement, and the floor beneath the chained
slaves getting slick from their spewing.  But the smells and sights only
added to interest in "owning" at least one of the marketed slaves and
before long, the chains were being undone as one after another of the
slaves were being led away on leashes attached to their neck collars by a
new "owner" - at least for the next hour or so when they would probably be
returned and exchanged for yet another slave up on the sales podiums.

     Charles didn't take long to pick out his first Holgate slave "to buy."
It was a big brown slave with extreme musculature, a huge organ, and a
beatific smile.  Neither Charles or any other guest had milked this slave
yet and the huge brown slave was dripping in need as Charles led him by a
leash attached to his slave collar to a cushioned bench in a small alcove
off the street obviously set up for use of the slaves.  He then proceeded
to whisk off his Venetian tunic and had the slave suck him before having
him bend over the bench for a thorough fucking.  Just as he was pumping his
own discharge deep into the slave's ass, the brown slave beneath him
shouted out he couldn't control himself any longer and shot a huge load
into the cushion beneath him. When Charles lay exhausted on the slave's
sweating back, the slave felt only relief - it had been weeks since he had
been allowed to unload.  Now a euphoria swept over his body as he felt his
new master's still swollen prick wiggle around in his asschute.

     "Thank you, master," the slave said sincerely as he tightened his ass
muscles around his master's prick within him.

     "We're not through yet, slave," Charles told the slave as he again
began to pump his again swelling prick into the slave's ass. Fucking this
slave had been so good he decided to try for a second time, although he
knew it would take some time before he was ready to orgasm again. The slave
beneath him, of course, had no say in the matter, but cooperated well
enough by tightening and loosening his ass muscles to try to facilitate his
master's pleasure in use of his body this second time around. Charles
maintained a firm grip on the slave's leash (attached to his collar) so the
slave's head was slightly drawn back as Charles fucked him, keeping the
slave in constant muscular tension (which Charles favored) and certainly
reminding the slave at all times during the fucking he was a slave there
solely for his master's pleasure and that all attention should be paid to
that activity regardless of what else was going on all around them.

     There was plenty going on around them to distract one's attention.
Practically every alcove provided was in use with the "just purchased"
slaves sucking away, being fucked, fucking a master who was into that sort
of pleasure, being milked by either a master's mouth or hand or simply
being fondled over and beyond what they had experienced while chained to
the sales podiums.

     Directly across from Charles, a little fat Negro man, slave whip in
hand, was directing two black slaves, one fucking the other.  As he slashed
across the one slave's rump, he shouted, "harder, slave.  Stick it in all
the way.  That's right.  Now pump in and out going in all the way each
time."

     "Yes, master," the slave plummeting in and out of the other slave
answered promptly, gasping for breath with each stroke.

     "And you, the black boy on the bottom, I want to hear you grunting on
each stroke up your butt loud and clear.  You hear me, slave?"

     "Yes, master," the bottom slave choked out hoarsely as yet another
stroke was delivered as far up his ass as possible.

     A few minutes later, Charles glanced again at the alcove across from
him.  Now both black slaves were on their knees, one sucking the fat
master's prick, the other his balls.  Both of their bottoms were bright red
from the slave whip, so obviously both had been required to fuck the
other. The fat little master still held the slave whip firmly in his hand
as the two slaves diligently tried to meet his demands.  Charles wondered
if the black master always picked black slaves for his pleasure because he
was black himself or, like Dallas, simply preferred blacks for other
reasons.  He knew Dallas was really turned on by smooth black hides - just
why he wasn't sure.

     Charles glanced down to other alcoves in heavy use.  One had a hairy
white slave with one of the biggest pricks he had ever seen fucking his new
" master" under strict instructions.  Further down, another alcove had a
hairless Asian slave sucking his master of the hour off.

     Still another alcove had two slaves, one a body-shaved white and the
other a body- shaved black, being milked by a master who was collecting
their output into a silver chalice.  Charles noted that as soon as they
dutifully discharged, the master had first one and then the other suck him
off while sipping their hot cum out of the silver chalice.  Charles himself
sort of lost interest in sex after a heavy discharge, but of course slaves
had no choice in the matter - interest on their part was never considered,
only instant response to demands.  As soon as this master finished his
snack of hot cum, he ordered his two slaves onto their backs with their
legs over their shoulders and began fucking them - first one and then the
other until he had discharged himself into both of them.  Charles noted
both slaves promptly and courteously thanked their new master for using
them as his cum flowed out of their well used asses.  No one could say
Holgate slaves weren't well trained!

     Dallas wasn't going to be tricked into getting drained by a bunch of
auction slaves put on display just to tempt him away from the sights
beyond.  He gave the chained slaves on their podiums a cursory look, hefted
a few balls as if to weigh them, and stroked a few more rampant pricks just
so he could say he had looked them over. Then he headed for the room he had
heard others describe as an Arabian harem.  Inside that room, he squealed
in delight.  Wavering silk curtains of all colors lined the walls, the
floor was a fine sand mixed with gold flakes here and there, the furniture
was nothing more than silk-lined adjustable benches, complete with easily
adjustable restraining straps, obviously put there for one reason and one
reason only - fully enjoying the inmates of the harem.  The harem boys
fulfilled his wildest fantasy of what an Arabian harem of that period
actually contained: every shade of slave in the world, all perfectly
formed, all with perfect physiques, all with the most handsome faces he had
ever seen, all heavily hung with the most perfect shaped organs he had ever
seen, and all fully erect and dripping in heavy need with inviting smiles
on their beautiful countenances.  They seemed to range from 16 to 22 with
nary a wrinkle, a wart, or even a mole.  A few of the benches were already
in use: on one, a black slave's carefully oiled body simply glowed as his
body had been positioned face down, this one unusual in that his body was
highlighted by a tiny white singlet around his genitals - a singlet that
was being removed as Dallas watched a young white guest, no more than a
teenager himself, prepare to fuck his prize right in front of everyone.

     "I'm the King of Araby," the white teenager announced to nobody in
particular as he plowed into the black ass at his ready disposal which
quickly absorbed his sizable prick and began churning to heighten his
user's pleasure. "Jesus Christ, I'm in heaven," the teenager screamed as he
stopped pumping in and out of the slave and let the harem boy do all the
work to bring him to orgasm. "Talk about training!" the young master
added. "Did those sheiks back then really have it this good?" as he flipped
the slave over on top of him and watched the black slave ride his pole up
and down, clenching his ass appropriately with each stroke in and out.

     "Yes, boy, they had it that good and probably better, if you can
imagine," Dallas said as he watched the little scene in front of him. "They
say the Roman Emperor Commodius had a male harem of over 300 slaves
carefully picked from all over the Roman Empire.  And one of the Ottoman
Empire's sultans had over 500 male slaves in his own personal harem.  Even
David Holgate can't duplicate that, but I imagine this is equal to anything
the Caliph of Bagdad or the Vizier of Morocco ever had."

     Dallas looked around and was stunned at the beauty possible in the
male body.  David Holgate seemed to have collected the best available in
today's world at least.  Just looking at them made him so excited he was
afraid he would shoot off prematurely.  Accordingly, he guided a nearby
harem boy to a available silk-covered bench.  The boy was "White Irish" by
his standards - a creamy white unblemished skin highlighted by thick black
hair and eyebrows, long black eye-lashes, a day-old black beard on his
beautifully chiseled face, and a light coating of fine black hair on his
perfect muscular body. His genital hair had been carefully trimmed to show
off his equipment which was hard and dripping.

     "On my knees, back or stomach, beloved master?" the white slave asked
softly with his eyes lowered demurely.

     "On your stomach, handsome boy," Dallas responded, mesmerized by the
slave's beauty and submissive demeanor.

     The beautiful boy draped himself on the bench with his legs spread
wide so his hole was fully exposed, his arms carefully placed under his
head, and his face turned to one side so his user could take in his facial
beauty as he fucked him.  He raised his ass slightly in invitation as his
hole literally winked in readiness, the lubricants around the rim of his
hole glistening in the light.

     Dallas whipped off his tunic, glad that he had foregone wearing any
underwear, and without hesitation plunged into the harem slave's hole
whereupon he was instantly engulfed with clinching ass muscles, a velvety
anal lining, and deep sighs of appreciation at being used.  As Dallas
luxuriated in one of the best fucks he could ever recall, he reminisced on
all the slaves he had fucked over the past few years: at least 150
different slaves, with many of them over and over and over, e.g., Romulus
who he must have fucked over 2000 times by now, the sold-off blond Viking
slave he had won in a lottery, but who he had fucked at least 500 times
before selling him off; and the Egyptian slave he now owned who he fucked
twice a day minimum just out of habit.  Good as they all were, this ass
underneath him right now was the best, bar none.  What he would give to own
this slave himself, instead of just fucking him now as a guest of David
Holgate.

     Dallas' use of the selected harem slave went on and on - he fucked him
over and over as if he would never have another chance (he probably
wouldn't) and, after using a few other harem slaves (a Circassian, a
Nubian, a Brit, and an Afghan) for comparison (he found them all just as
talented), went back to the Irish white for a final round before he was
completely played out and there was no way, no matter how much the slaves
tried, he could get an erection.

     As he staggered out of the Arabian Harem room, his Venitian tunic
clinging to his sweat soaked body, he ran into Charles.

     "Jesus, what happened to you, Dallas?  You look like you've been
through a tornado!"

     "The Arabian Harem," Dallas grunted.  "I've never seen anything like
it."  With that, he fell into an empty alcove and went sound asleep the
instant he settled on one of the benches.

     Charles was a little apprehensive, not knowing whether Dallas had a
positive or negative review before he became unconscious.  He thought he
better wait and get a valid report from someone before visiting the Arabian
Harem.  It may be a scene where David Holgate had gone to excess.  So, for
the time being, he decided to visit the Indian Temple room where, it was
claimed, religion went totally sensual.

     The claims were right on, as Charles quickly discovered. The "Temple"
was beautifully decorated and filled with naked male "Priests," all the
best of Indian manhood, who were uniformly beautiful, body shaved below the
neck, sported nicely shaped very large circumcised sex organs, and
festooned with thick gold rings around their necks, their upper arms, their
wrists, their ankles, their genitals, their swollen nipples, their ears,
and their nose. Each priest was exceedingly handsome, had deep black eyes,
rich mahogany brown skin, and a well defined muscular physique.  Moreover,
they were, to a man, fully erect, seemed to all be in the bloom of early
manhood (between 18 and 22 years of age) and let visitors to the temple
know their duty was to bring full sensual pleasure to whoever chose them
for a "religious experience."

     Charles chose the very first priest that approached him: a 20-year-old
trainee who had only been in the temple a few months.  The prescribed
ritual, suggested by the novice priest, was to start with a good sucking by
the trainee, then use this wantabee priest for a good fucking with the
trainee on all fours (Indian style, he called it), and finishing with
Charles lying on his back reflecting on his fortune while the novice fucked
him by lowering his ass up and down on Charles's prick while the novice
repeated various mantras appropriate for the ceremony.  The prescription
was exactly what Charles had in mind with the superlatively handsome Indian
youth and, when the "ceremony" was finished (with two loads of Charles' cum
up his priest's ass and another in his belly), both Charles and the novice
priest seemed to be totally satisfied with the religious observance.  It
was a religion everyone of a certain bent could buy into, and Charles
wondered if he could convert that very evening.

     All around him, other priests were performing their religion on other
of the Holgate guests and, judging from all the gasps and groans emanating
from the Temple, a certain sacred aura mixed in with the smell of sex
sweat, hot cum, and ass lubricants - the "incense" of this particular
religion. All participants seemed caught up in the pure eroticism of the
religion and the chanting of the sacred mantas by the priests as they
literally extracted load after load of the cum they called "life essence"
from the temple guests cast a new and exciting aspect to contemporary
religious practices.

     Like Dallas before him, Charles emerged from the Indian Temple so
exhausted he too fell into the alcove where Dallas was still sleeping and
more or less passed out, but others would call it a deep sleep of
exhaustion.

     Several hours later, the two awoke simultaneously and both were
delighted they hadn't slept the whole party away.  To the contrary, the
party just seemed to be reaching its height.  Slaves from the auction block
were still widely available and being "bought" right and left as guest
after guest took advantage of all the beautiful flesh available to them
with a mere bid on their part. Guests were still staggering out of the
Arabian Harem, as exhausted as Dallas had been as well as the Indian
Temple, but an equal number were just beginning to explore the wonders
contained in both special venues. Both Dallas and Charles marveled at the
durability of the slaves assigned to these special rooms and couldn't
conceive of the type of training necessary to achieve that durability.
[What they didn't know was that David Holgate rotated his slaves in each
room on an hourly basis so the slave stock was always "fresh and ready."
Such was the advantage of having huge hordes of slaves at his disposal.]

     "We still haven't seen the Cathay Palace slaves," Dallas said to
Charles now that both were at least partially awake and again, presumably,
capable of sexual response given a talented slave was let loose on them.

     "We better take it in while it's still open," Charles responded.  "It
would be a shame to not see what else David Holgate has come up with,
although I don't see how he could outdo that Indian Temple scene."

     "Nor the Arabian Harem that almost did me in," Dallas laughed.

     But both left the alcove, walked past the Slave Market where yet
another fresh batch of fantastically handsome chained slaves were flaunting
their goodies up on the podiums, and headed for the third special room
neither of them had visited yet within the Holgate mansion.

     What they entered was a palace of marble and the finest silks,
spraying fountains of scented waters, and living statues of the finest male
slave flesh either of them had ever seen.  Each slave was posed as a
statue, totally naked with his body fully shaved (even his head save a long
black que flowing down his back), showing off a magnificent physique,
perfect skin, superlative sex organs (fully shaved and circumcised of
course), black slanted eyes, and a creamy yellow-tinged skin that bespoke
their full Chinese origin.

     "Pick out any living statues you please," a man in full Mandarin dress
directed as we entered.  "Each is fully trained to bring you the highest
level of pleasure possible.  There are rooms in back of the water fountains
for your full enjoyment and upmost privacy," he added with a florish of his
right hand, pointing to the space just beyond the splendiferous water
fountains.

     Dallas and Charles followed the directions and each picked out a
"statue" that turned them on.  Dallas picked a 6' boy of about 18 with huge
pectorals, succulent tits, and a tiny waist; Charles selected a shorter boy
who was even more muscular but had his balls removed, apparently long after
puberty judging from his totally masculine body and his huge shaft.

     "Ah!  Excellent choices, masters," the Mandarin seemed delighted as he
again pointed to the rooms in back of the water fountains. "A youth
practically virginal - he's only been in the Palace a few weeks having been
bought from his impoverished father - and a newly made eunuch who lost his
manhood only two months ago.  The ancient Chinese sacred sayings all claim
there is nothing better than a recently virginal boy and a eunuch -
especially when it comes to fucking.  But, if you wish, masters, even the
eunuch can fuck you if you wish - a eunuch can still elicit a good erection
for months after the cut. And the young boy so fresh from his father's farm
is as tight as the day we first bought him."

     "I've always wanted to fuck a eunuch for some reason," Charles said
excitedly as he led his handsome slave by a leash to the slave's nose ring
beyond the fountains to the designated usage rooms.

     "And I've always wanted to fuck a good looking Chinaman for some
reason," Dallas said, equally excited by the prospects of using the slave
he was towing by a collar leash to the designated rooms.

     An hour later, Dallas and Charles emerged out to the water fountains
at about the same time.  The "living statues" they had selected were
already back on their stands in the palace's display room, having quickly
cleaned their bodies inside and out and returning to their display stands
while their "masters" were slowly putting their Venitian tunics back on and
recovering their spent energy.

     "My God," Charles exclaimed above the roar of the water fountains.
"They're right - nothing offers up a better fuck than a God-damned
eunuch. They claim it's because their only way to get any sexual pleasure
is taking a good fucking and therefore they put their heart and soul into
it.  But, for whatever reason, that half-man drained me dry, let me tell
you.  Wouldn't mind owning a eunuch for the house, you know, Dallas?"

     "Maybe we should have the Egyptian cut?" Dallas laughed.  "We seldom
let him get off anyway and it would stop him dripping all over the place.."

     "And how was your living statue, Dallas?" Charles asked as he
rearranged his flimsy tunic.

     "Charles, I swear that boy had never been fucked he was so tight.  But
once I was in him, I've never seen a slave so take to being fucked as that
one.  He absolutely went bananas once I started pounding his butt.  I'm
surprised you didn't hear all his screams of joy and yells of ecstasy. Talk
about enjoying being fucked - the best thing his dad ever did was sell him
off to the Palace.  All that yelling and hollering really got me hot and
bothered.  I bet I shot a full quart of cum up that young boy's butt. He'd
be leaking for a month if he didn't flush it out as soon as I was finished.
I suppose he's got to get himself ready for the next Palace visitor.
Jesus, I wonder how many visitors he entertains in a day's time - he won't
be so damn tight all that long at the rate he's going."

     "Ready to leave, Dallas?  I'm pooped," Charles announced.

     "Me too, Charles," Dallas said and both of them left the Palace
promptly, never ever bothering to look at all the other living statues
available for use.

     "Many years of happiness for those who drain their balls daily," the
Mandarin said in his sing-song fashion as the two passed by him.  "It's an
old Chinese proverb."

     "And what about the slaves making all that draining possible?" Charles
shot back.

     "A slave who brings happiness to his masters earns his place in
heaven," the Mandarin shot back.  "Another old Chinese proverb that any
slave here will vouch to as to its eternal truth."

     With that, the two masters left and wandered back to the main hall.
But, by then, the party was obviously over.  Just a few lingerers stood
around and many of the slaves had been returned to their maintenance
centers for the complete cleansing that followed any party like this.
Neither Charles nor Dallas had even seen their host, David Holgate.  Based
on his dramatic entrances to his other parties, his absence seemed strange
indeed.

     Looking at each other, Dallas and Charles just nodded in answering the
unsaid question: Was it time to go?  They were totally drained, totally
exhausted, and felt like they could never get it up again, let alone fuck a
slave.  They both now knew what the word satiation meant.  With that nod,
they left the main door, got back on the Venitian galley taking them to the
other side where even looking down at the sweating galley slaves didn't get
a rise out of them.  The waiters tried their best to be of service, even
rubbing their hard pricks up against them, but all the two guests wanted
was a cold drink minus any offered cum sauce.

     When they landed on the other side, they went home immediately, threw
their sweaty, cum-stained Venitian tunic in the waste basket and sunk into
bed and a deep, deep sleep.  The next morning, neither Romulus nor the
Egyptian slave could get them to respond, even when they tried sucking
their flaccid organs.  Eventually, they gave up and went to their cleaning
chores, leaving their two masters to rest up the remainder of the day. Each
master slept 18 hours non-stop as it turned out and the Egyptian slave was
about to burst his balls, not used to going that long without being drained
by one or the other of his masters. Finally, Romulus took pity on him and
fucked him until both the slaves emptied their balls. Romulus just hoped
they wouldn't be punished for doing so without their master's permission,
but, on the other hand, when had the masters left their slaves unattended
for that long?

*****************

THE VOLUPTUARY

by Bill Smith

Chapter 21 (Final)

NOTHING LASTS FOREVER

     David Holgate's invisibility at the last party was indeed a mystery.
Usually he wanted to be center stage at the events.  Had he become bored
with excess?  Was pushing his human properties to greater and greater
exploits becoming blase? Did he feel his guests no longer appreciated him?

     Perhaps he had been ill.  No one had seen his best friend Claude
DuPree either which only added to the mystery, unless, of course, poor
David was sick and Claude felt obligated to look after him.  There was
endless speculation throughout the week following the party concerning the
absence since no one had seen David Holgate since then either.

     After 10 days, the mystery deepened. First, the largest slave transits
were seen loading up stock from the mansion's elaborate caging system.  It
took six double decker cage trucks to move all of them out: 110 packed into
the two levels of each truck.  Even stranger, all of the transit trucks
were the ubiquitous khaki color of U.S. Army slave haulers and were driven
by the ugly unkempt draft slaves owned by the Army for the grunt
work. Next, a sign appeared at the outer gate of the Holgate property:
"Property of U.S. Government" with nary a soul to be seen on the vast
grounds of the estate, not even the lawn slaves that usually toiled away a
good 15 hours of each day mowing, weeding, tending the flowers, fertilizing
with processed slave shit, and watering as necessary to maintain that
pristine look David Holgate always insisted on.  At night, not a light
could be seen in any window.  All that could be seen were a few Army guards
patrolling around all the entrances and a few Army slaves that usually
accompanied such patrols - there solely to take care of feeding the
soldiers throughout the day as well as service them sexually when the
patrols took a break - one of the many perks available in the modern day
Army.

     Seeing all those prime slaves being carted off to God knows where made
the entire town speculate as to: (1) could they perhaps buy one or two for
their own use if the price wasn't outrageous? (2) what about David
Holgate's fabled wealth? (3) what had happened to the famous Voluputary
himself? (4) had David Holgate died somehow? and (5) why in the hell was
the federal government involved in all of this?

     Slowly, over the coming weeks, rumors turned into hard facts.  David
Holgate III, it seemed, had obtained most of his fabulous slaves from
Anti-American insurgent organizations in exchange for providing them much
needed modern armament, including the latest guided missiles, tank-piecing
shells, and the latest scopes for night fighting.  Little cash had changed
hands - he provided the latest military technology they wanted; they
provided him with the best slaves to be had.

     Where had these organizations obtained all the slaves they bartered
off so readily?

     1.  Many of the slaves exchanged had been captured and then carefully
     trained to their new life within the organizations, a practice
following age-old
     traditions and one in which they exhibited great knowledge and skill.

     2.  Others had been sold to them by third world countries for
"protection"
     from starting an insurgency within their own country since such
countries could
     ill afford an army of their own.  Many of the slaves "harvested" in
this fashion
     by their own governments had been scooped up over the countryside as a
form
     of taxation, a practice first formulated by the harvest of Circassian
slaves by the
     Ottoman Empire.  With the large families typical within these third
world
     nations, giving up your best looking son or daughter at the age of 16
to the
     government "slave harvesters" was considerably simpler than having a
heavy
     tax placed on your land or income.

     3.  A considerable number of slaves had been sold to them for a
pittance by
     war impoverished parents starving to death and willing to sell off a
handsome
     son or daughter for enough money to feed the rest of the family - a
sacrificial
     lamb necessary for survival.

     4.  A large number of slaves available to them were products of their
own
     slave breeding operations wisely set up decades ago as a means of
producing
     endless cash for their operations and which now produced some of the
finest
     specimens in the world, the products having benefitted from
generations of
     selective breeding toward a quality product.

     5.  A sizeable number of slaves were "given" to them by governments as
     part of open trade agreements, especially in the sale and distribution
of opiates
     in the Middle East, oil distribution rights, oil pipeline agreements,
refinery
     franchises, and shipping and airlines charters. Most of the slaves
obtained as
     friendly government commercial bribes had been carefully selected from
slave
     markets all over the world, picked for their potential in instantly
delighting
     whoever they were given to.

     David Holgate, over the years, had demanded and got the very best of
these lots, regardless of their original sourcing. Those not trained to his
complete satisfaction quickly were: he had excellent trainers among his
slave holdings.  And the best among his slaves, from the very beginning of
his collection, were quickly put to work producing the next generation -
the Holgate breeding operations were world renown for their output and
quality. It was eventually revealed that only half of his stock had
actually been obtained through barter of military arsenals; the other half
had been born right in his own breeding barns.  Therefore, the legal
question arose: could domestically bred slaves, never actually sold, be
considered as properly seized, since that property actually hadn't been
subject to any bartering conditions for anti-American and/or terrorist
purposes?  But then again, neither had his house and it obviously had been
seized along with all his stock.

     It didn't take long for a lower federal court to decide the issue:
everything David Holgate owned was subject to a "fine" for breaking federal
law.  The goods seized didn't have to be proven to have been bartered or
bought in exchange for supplied munitions materiel.  There was no
difference, of course, between his properties as to whether they were human
slaves, donkeys, or bricks and mortar. All properties were subject to
seizure regardless of what type of property; how that property was
obtained; or what it was used for.  The matter was settled once and for all
and began an important foundation for future federal court decisions,
thereafter known as "U.S. Government vs. Holgate."

     As to the disposition of the Holgate slaves?  Many were shipped off to
an estate in Maryland owned and operated by the State Department where they
were caged before being given to various foreign diplomats as "bribes"
promoting U.S. commercial interests in other countries.  Consequently,
Holgate-branded slaves can now be found in the palaces of Algerian
government officials; within the ministries of Brazil; in the Army brothels
of Thailand; on the docks of government ports in Ghana, the Cameroons, and
Gambia: within the Kremlin; and practically every foreign embassy in the
United States boasts of at least one or two Holgate- branded slaves,
usually serving the meals, cleaning the place, and sexually servicing the
staff.  Some serve as smart-looking chauffeurs for foreign heads of state,
while others are serving as the handsome aide-de-camps of foreign generals
and admirals all over the world. All gifts of the U.S. government!

     Others ended up in the mansions of our own government officials,
mainly those in very high places where no questions are asked as to how
they got them or what they actually are required to do.  Blair House has
its supply as does the White House, the Treasury, and Defense Department to
name a few. Slave gossip has it that those Holgate slaves were worked so
hard they wore out early and they weren't talking about manual labor
either, unless you consider getting fucked around the clock manual labor.

     The U.S. Army got its share, having been made responsible for the
original seizure of the Holgate properties.  Most not stationed in
four-star generals' private quarters are in Army brothels where every
U.S. serviceman has an equal opportunity of using their bodies for some
well deserved "R&R."  Of course, as you know, the Army brothels, free and
well-stocked, have practically solved the chronic recruitment problems of
the past. It's said that every U.S. Army brothel, all over the world, now
features at least one Holgate slave.  They have proved so popular, the Army
has been forced to issue a lottery for their use among the troops, but like
all other lotteries, it has proven to be motivational, if nothing else, and
is certainly an example of democracy in action.  When a raw recruit was
asked recently on national television why he had signed up for a six-year
hitch, his answer spoke for thousands and thousands of others: "Why, I'm
granted a fair and equal chance to any slave in the Army's brothels, even
the prize specimens.  That's democracy if I ever heard of it, and that, my
friend, is what we real Americans are fighting for - equal
opportunity. Don't you agree? Hell, I even got an hour with one of those
Holgate slaves the Army is just getting a few of.  Name any other country
in the world where a simple little farm boy from South Dakota like myself
has opportunities like that?  "  Well, as the television interviewer
pointed out, how can you argue with logic like that, as he too waved a
little American flag in view of the camera lenses.

     The few Holgate slaves left over went to public slave markets in an
effort to recoup the court costs involved in the case. Free enterprise
reigned and the Holgate brand brought some of the highest prices the
markets had ever witnessed.  So high, in fact, that you had to be a
millionaire, it turned out, to even get in the bidding, let alone win a
bid. A few C.E.O.'s of large corporations made successful bids, a few of
those lucky enough to have inherited billions, and a few of Hollywood's top
movie stars and a few of the major league athletes got a "Holgate" as these
slaves came to be known.  But that was it.  Again, supply and demand ruled
the day and the supply just wasn't there after everyone else had siphoned
off the original holding.  Even the few score sold brought in enough to
easily cover all the court costs with plenty left over for all the lawyers
that managed to get involved in the case one way or another.

     The Holgate breeding operations were shut down, of course, when all
the breeding stock was sold off, but the breeding barns themselves were
still intact and were available at public auction. Those barns were snapped
up by a Saudi oil corporation already diversifying into that enterprise and
interested in setting up an American branch geared toward the American
market.  The idea in back of it was, once the breeding barns were back in
full production after the necessary time for a slave to go from pup to
market age, to sell them through their gasoline stations already located
throughout the United States, thereby eliminating the costs of new
showrooms, franchises, middlemen, etc.  They even had plans to sell their
output on the installment plan with no interest as long as you bought your
gasoline exclusively from their stations. Wall Street pundits agreed it was
a sound business plan if they had ever heard of one and clamored to buy
stock in the Saudi company, but alas, the company was privately held and
all the money would go right back to the home country, just like all that
gasoline money.  At any rate, once again the "breeding benches" in the
barns were in heavy use and a full coterie of carefully selected studs and
broods once again trudged back and forth to the rutting sheds as
scheduled. Within a year, a visitor couldn't tell the difference when David
Holgate ran the operation and when the Saudi corporation ran it - even the
sounds of the whips on the stud's rumps sounded the same and, as usual, a
visitor simply didn't see very many female slaves that weren't visibly
pregnant. Full production was the goal and full production was obtained -
no problem if you knew what you were doing in this enterprise.

     Dallas and Charles, who always hoped to again own a Holgate slave
(they had sold off the white blond they had won in a party lottery), would
never have that opportunity again.  They would simply have to live their
life as before, staffing their house with slaves from the local markets,
but the Voluptuary's parties would be a treasured lifetime memory of which
parts could be re-enacted with local slave purchases (and economical
rentals) from time to time as personal finances allowed.  As time went on,
their fortune did increase somewhat, allowing them to keep the still eager
Romulus and the do-anything Egyptian and adding a fresh new blond slave
imported from Romania, a rather hairy but very sexy specimen from Bulgaria
(who they got dirt cheap due to an oversupply of slaves from that region)
and, still later, a highly trained brown slave from Samoa who was
astonishingly handsome and very well equipped.  All three new additions
didn't seem to mind being bedded down by a male owner.  Dallas claimed they
were naturally bent that way judging by their enthusiasm in his bed;
Charles thought they were just well trained.

     "After all, Dallas, being allowed any sex, regardless of type, is a
treat for a slave these days, so why shouldn't they be great in bed?"

     "That's true, Charles, but still you can kind of tell by a certain
hesitancy sometimes when they're true-blue heterosexuals, no matter how
good the training they've had.  Remember that blond boy we called "Viking"
we sold off to the mistress?  That little look in his eye every time you
screwed him or had him suck you off?  That's what I'm talking about.  You
don't see anything like that in these new purchases. They're as eager as
you could want when you poke it up their butt or down their throat.  You
can't fake that sort of enthusiasm."

     "Whatever, Dallas," Charles chortled. "Who cares, as long as they're
totally satisfying in bed?

     "That's the bottom line.  And that is, of course, what we bought them
for, isn't it?"

     "I can't complain so far, Dallas, I admit.  You claim it's nature; I
claim it's proper training?  Who cares?  Either way, they know we'll sell
them off the minute they don't offer us the best sex we've ever had,"
Charles laughed. "I'm sure Romulus has told them a hundred times how we
sold off the Viking blond."

     "Embellishing it each time he tells the tale, I'm sure," Dallas
chuckled.

     "While we're chatting about the new additions," Charles replied, "
which one do you like the best? Me, I'm rather enchanted with the South
Seas stud - always eager and hung like a damn horse."

     "For some reason I can't explain, I like the Bulgarian best.  I know
he didn't cost us much, but - I don't know - maybe I like the fact we never
body shaved him.  Running my fingers through all his hair just adds to the
excitement when I use him, and Charles, he isn't exactly lacking when it
comes to big sex organs himself.  How big is that thing when he's at full
mast and dripping?  At least six inches around and a good foot long, I'd
wager, although I've never actually measured him.  The dealer we bought him
from gave me the statistics when we bought him, but I've forgotten.  But I
do like the look of a slave that says all man,' no doubt about it."

     "Yeah, I like that hair on him too, but we both seem to like the
Romanian enough to each fuck him at least twice a day.  He's so damn clean
looking you just can't resist," Dallas added.  "Me, I like to throat fuck
that little mouth of his; you, I notice, like to take his ass which is
about as tight as his mouth and throat.  He's refreshingly different,
that's for sure."

     "He's so eager to please a master, he doesn't care where you poke him.
You could fuck his ear and he'd never bat an eyelash he's so well trained.
Are all Romanian slaves trained to that level or did we just luck out?"

     "The dealers claim they're all trained to that level - part of the
national heritage they claim.  After all, they've been training slaves
since the time of the Romans. That's where they got their name afterall and
even the Romans liked them as slaves. God knows, they certainly had their
choice of any and everything."

****************

     The Holgate mansion was never actually sold to a private individual.
The C.I.A.  became the successful bidder, interested in its hard-to-reach
location (you had to cross a small river to get to it), its technologically
advanced on-call caging system for 650 bodies, the multitude of rooms and
open spaces for staff interrogations, bodily torture, and "re-training"
exercises for those coming into their jurisdiction, as well as the ease in
keeping the curious (including the press) out.  Guantanamo Bay was ceded
back to the Cubans and the Holgate manion became their new holding grounds
for "persons of suspicion" now that the fiction the Bay had been part of
the U.S. (but wasn't) was dispelled by the courts. The mansion, with its
facilities for 650 to be tortured into confessions that could be staged
around the world, was perfect for their needs and was quickly filled to
capacity, eliminating the need for "secret prisons" leased from friendly
foreign governments willing to close their eyes to what was going on in
those facilities.  What went on within those walls was little different
than before when recalcitrant slaves were molded by highly skilled trainers
into exactly what was wanted by David Holgate at the moment.

     The big question, of course, was what ever happened to the Voluptuary
himself, David Halcomb Holgate III. No one had ever seen him since long
before his last party. Nor had they seen his friend, Claude Dupree, whose
properties had been confiscated (for unspecified reasons) along with David
Holgate's. The assumption was that Claude Dupree had been in on the dirty
dealings along with his close friend, David, but no case had ever gone to
court to support that notion.

*******

Years later:

     Claude Dupree was spotted in Paraguay by an American businessman out
on a slave buying expedition for the New York markets. He claimed, with
little proof, photographic or otherwise, that Mr. Dupree was a small time
slave dealer in Asuncion specializing in black slaves primarily imported
from Brazil.  He also claimed the man, now seriously aging, lived modestly
with only a single slave he kept for himself and that was a practically
worthless old Indian who was over the hill, much like himself.  As a
Paraguayan, he was outside U.S.  jurisdiction and had escaped criminal
indictment (but why he would be subject o U.S. criminal indictment was
never revealed by the businessman's statement.)  The businessman added that
Mr. Dupree was in such apparent ill health that he couldn't possibly live
much beyond another year or so whereupon he speculated the ancient old
Indian slave would simply run back into the jungle once he found the key to
his collar and shackles in his dead master's clothing.

     Upon reading the newspaper account of the businessman's visit with
Claude Dupree, both Charles and Dallas felt sorry for the old man if what
they read was even half true.  They thought of the handsome stock he always
surrounded himself with, always totally naked, always super subservient,
and all eager to share their body with anyone their master designated.
They remembered it was through his machinations they had been exposed to
the famous Aztec,' the Greek,' and numerous other exceptional beauties with
collars around their necks.  It was he who had manipulated David Holgate
into loaning him the famous Driver' along with the Maybach limousine custom
upholstered in slave hide for a ride to his home, and a full evening with
the Maybach's sexy chauffeur ( Driver') stripped to the buff prancing
around eager to fulfill his every desire.  It was he who stayed at the
Holgate mansion after every party in a private suite staffed with the very
best of the Holgate sex slaves.  To go from having all that at your
disposal and end up down in South America pawning off rough blacks to the
denizens of Asuncion while having only one decrepit old slave to warm your
bed was pitiful. It showed what could happen to anyone if your own
government turns against you.

     The New York Times finally solved the David Holgate question.  Filing
a "Freedom of Information" request, they finally, after several trips to
the courts, found out in a top secret government document (now very dated
and no longer considered important), that David Holgate himself had been
arrested for treason under the National Security Act.  The government did
not want to admit publicly that they had been totally unaware of David
Holgate's business activities for over 15 years, that their ignorance had
led to serious national security concerns, and that David Holgate was a
frequent visitor to the White House in his heyday commensurate with his
credentials as a heavy donator to the President's campaign funding. All
that was too embarrassing to risk any sort of court hearing, let alone a
trial.  Therefore, the C.I.A. had whisked him off to the obscure slave
market of Dar Es Salaam where he was sold at a modest price to an even more
obscure African prince of an impoverished country of Central Africa. In
heavy chains, he soon found himself in Bossangoa in the Central African
Republic.  His owner hated Americans and enjoyed fucking the newly enslaved
man who, he had been told, once owned hundreds of slaves himself. But he'd
certainly had better trained slaves in his bed by a long shot and the new
purchase was a little long in the tooth for his tastes on second thought.
Still, he hadn't cost much at the market in Dar Es Salaam and the prince
thought he could turn a nice profit by selling him off.

     The problem was, everyone in Bossangoa was so poor they were selling
themselves into slavery just to eat, let alone have the money to own a
slave themselves.  One night he thought he might enjoy showing off his
relative wealth by displaying the nude and relatively rare white slave on a
genital leash while out strolling in what was labeled the business
district' in Bossangoa. Even in this simple task, the white slave was
clumsy to the point of proving to be an embarrassment - he didn't heel
properly like a well trained slave and ended up being jerked by his balls
half the time.  Furthermore, he shivered and shuddered when those on the
streets fondled his body, and actually cried out when some teen age boy
thrust his finger far up the slave's asshole. Just at that time, the prince
found himself right outside the door of the local brothel - probably the
only business in town that prospered. The whoremonger there, a huge black
man, came out to see what the commotion was all about and seeing the white
slave leashed by his balls, saw a unique opportunity.  First, he was short
of male whores - always as popular, if not more so, than the females he had
in stock.  Second, he had no white whores on hand, male or female, and he
knew the novelty alone would guarantee a steady booking for the slave,
still wiggling around as the teenage boy pumped his finger in and out of
the slave's hole in what the locals called a "hand fucking" although the
translation doesn't quite catch the true meaning.

     "Is his highness interested in selling the boy?" the brothel owner
inquired.  "I could offer a decent price, although I know, your majesty,
money is no importance to one of your standing.  But the slave seems
troublesome and somewhat untrained, if I dare risk commenting on the
matter.  Perhaps you have grown wearisome from the trials and tribulations
an unseasoned slave can put a good master through, sire."

     The prince's dark eyes narrowed and he retorted.  "A white boy in your
offerings would be a popular novelty, I'm sure.  And could prove, if
properly managed, to be quite profitable, once he was broken and fully
trained to his new life.  I might consider parting with the slave if the
price wasn't an insult to my personage.  But I've had him in my bed and,
for a white, he shows promise although still unschooled and amateurish in
meeting the normal expectations of an owner's property, surprising in view
of the slave's age. "

     "Prince," the brothel owner smiled, "I'm pleased you share my own
opinion of the white man's sexual abilities compared to we blacks, but, let
me assure you, they can be trained to a satisfactory level if one isn't
afraid of the whip.  I myself find the slave whips made out of elephant
hide bring the best results in reshaping a boy's attitude toward his
assigned tasks."

     "An interesting observation," the Prince replied.  "But doesn't it
scar the property badly?"

     "Customers seldom notice the scars on the soles of a slave's feet,
your highness, nor on the back of his knees. Both places are quite tender
and the whip there produces intolerable pain in short order.  Properly used
in those areas, a slave agrees to do anything - anything - to escape a
future beating."

     "I always thought staking an uncooperative slave out in the desert
where the fire ants can gnaw at his prick and balls was a good technique,
but I'll store away your new knowledge concerning proper slave management,"
the Prince replied with an engaging smile toward the dealer.  "How much are
you offering me for this slave?  He's relatively unused up his hole at
least, as you can probably ascertain from all that wiggling around at a
mere finger or so up his butt, although, I must warn you, his prick seemed
to have had a lot of use over the years and his balls don't produce the
full load you expect of a slave these days."

     "May I?" the whoremonger asked, indicating he wanted to fully examine
the slave before him.

     "Of course," the Prince replied.

     After the most thorough examination even David Holgate could imagine,
the whoremonger announced his findings.

     "The slave is, as you say, still tight in his asshole.  And, Prince,
as you so astutely observed, his prick and balls are very well used - so
used, in fact, I doubt if he can reach a truly full erection anymore,
especially hung as heavy as he is, and those balls feel like they're pretty
well worn out.  Obviously, the slave has been used as a stud far too long
and his days are pretty well over in that area.  But, Prince, I don't plan
to stud him much, or use him to produce the stud milk so popular as an
aphrodisiac drink around here among most of our men.  I simply want him in
the brothel so our locals can have a chance to fuck a white man whenever
they want at a modest cost or have a white man on his knees before them
sucking them off.  That he can do for years yet, and since he's the only
white slave I've seen available for years, I'll not offend your
sensibilities by offering a modest price, despite the slave's many
deficiencies.  Ten cows and five goats, your highness.  It's an outlandish
price, I know, Prince, but I really want a white slave to offer my
customers and, at the present time, you have a monopoly on white male
slaves."

     "He's yours," the Prince responded, handing the genital leash to the
whoremonger. "I agree that our good citizens should have an opportunity to
fuck a white man while one is available.  As you say, he'll need a lot of
rigorous training before most will find him satisfactory, but I leave that
part in your experienced hands.  Tell me, will he be the only male
available in your useful establishment?"

     "Hardly," the whoremonger broke into laughter.  "Prince, we have many,
many more males than females in our stable.  African men feel more powerful
when they fuck a man and, besides, their wives surfeit them with what a
female has to offer. I'd be out of business if I depended on the demand for
female whores.  Here, your highness, if you wouldn't be offended, let me
show you around our modest enterprise and you can see for yourself."

     The Prince was curious and quickly followed the whoremonger into the
brothel.  Inside, privacy was not a factor.  There were open cribs on
either side of the large room and in each crib was a handsome black male
slave with a very large erect prick in all his glory chained by the collar
around his neck to the wall in back of him.  All were standing up with
their hands in back of their necks and their muscular legs wide spread so
the customers could see all aspects of their powerful physiques and handle
their sex easily.  Of the dozen available in the small brothel, they ranged
from jet black to a dark brown, all were well built and heavy hung, and all
were certainly handsome by local standards.  All their bodies were shiny
and hairless, including any hair around their sex, so they obviously shaved
themseelves at least daily and applied oil to their bodies periodically so
that they literally glowed. They ranged in size from small (about 5"4" at
the smallest) to large (about 6"4" at the largest).  All had good teeth,
bright eyes, and looked healthy and disease free.

     "Judging from the collars and chains, they're all slaves?" the Prince
inquired.

     "Yes, highness.  Although some free men choose this profession, they
are much more expensive - too rich for this poor town.  Slaves are the
obvious solution."

     "And the women you offer?  Where are they?"  the Prince inquired.

     "I keep them in the cribs outdoors.  They frequently smell what with
their monthly curse and my customers usually can't stand to use them unless
they are out of doors in the fresh air.  The men slaves, on the other hand,
are wont to keep themselves clean at every opportunity and douche out after
every use along with twice a day full body baths.

     "Do you fix your women to prevent pregnancy from their customers, or
do you just sell off their git for a little extra profit?"

     "Alas, the women here are usually pregnant within a month or two of
heavy use and then I wait all those months for them to be profitable again.
Selling a slave pup brings little to my pocket in that they are so
plentiful in the markets and who can afford to feed them until they bring a
decent price for their bodies?  Frankly, just between us, your Highness,
I'm thinking of closing out the women side of the business entirely and
buying some more male slaves who aren't encumbered with monthly cycles, a
sloven uncleanliness, and swollen bellies.  It will prove much more
profitable in the long haul, my customers certainly won't object much, and
the place will undoubtedly smell a lot better.  I'm thinking of expanding
to some very young studs who could serve as milkers - the customer could
milk them himself straight from the source.  The witch doctors are all
recommending a young stud's cream for whatever aids you over and above its
aphrodisiac qualities. Western medicine, I understand, now claims it
extends your youthfulness if you drink enough of it.  But, Prince, those
same non-believers claim you have to drink three full cups a day to get the
benefit - who could afford that?  You've have to have five or six studs at
your disposal to harvest that much every day. These boys here couldn't
produce that much cum between all of them, but, of course, I didn't buy
them solely for how much cum they can produce - I chose them from the
market for other qualities as well."

     "I think I'll forego seeing the stinking females," the Prince laughed,
"after hearing they must be kept out of doors to tolerate. "And there's no
need to finger your offerings in this room.  I've got a few slaves at home
equal or better than these and I prefer to find my pleasure in private.
I'm sure you can understand."

     "Of course, your Highness.  I'll have the cows and goats delivered to
your palace before the sun sets."

     With that, the fate of David Halcomb Holgate III was settled. He
joined the other slaves chained to the crib walls where he was quickly
taught with the elephant hide whip to display himself with his hands in
back of his neck, his legs wide apart, and with his fully shaved body
thrust forward for easy handling by the customers.  Despite the fact he
didn't understand a word anyone said in the local dialect, he nevertheless
learned from the other crib slaves his food depended on the number of
customers he serviced to their complete satisfaction and the minute he
experienced true hunger for the first time, he rapidly changed his behavior
to meet the customer's every expectation and then some.  At first, despite
his clumsiness in these matters relative to the other slaves in the
brothel, his novel skin color proved an advantage and by the time the
novelty was gone, he had learned enough skills from the others owned by the
whoremonger to earn his keep well enough.

     David Holgate lived to the ripe old age of 44, very old for a common
crib slave, but even when he died of a heart attack/strangulation after a
particularly rough throat fuck by a young black teenager out for a thrill
who had an abnormally thick prick, he still retained reasonable good looks,
a sound, but not spectacular good physique, and a willing enough attitude
toward his new profession. Over the years, once he learned the local
language, he regaled the other crib slaves with his stories about the
mansion, his 650 slaves, and his famous parties.  They, of course, didn't
believe a word of it, but enjoyed his story telling anyway in that it broke
the monotony of constant sexual usage by anyone able to pay the small fee
to enjoy their bodies.  The milk studs the brothel now featured didn't
write his stories off completely however.  He simply seemed to know too
much about how much a male slave could produce if motivated properly. Their
balls were always sore from the constant drainage and the white slave among
them seemed to know something about this: he showed them how to massage
their balls for greater output and less soreness and assured them they
could be utilized as regular brothel slaves when they started to dry up,
as, he predicted, they would by the time they were in their mid-20s.  Sure
enough, the ball massage he suggested did help and they did start to dry up
just at the age he had originally stated.  So it was little wonder the milk
studs gave him due respect despite his white skin and Western origins.

     David Holgate was replaced the very day he died in the brothel by a
new purchase at the local slave market, in this case a handsome well hung
local whose parents had sold him for the money he brought to feed the
remaining children.  But he didn't have the white skin or Western
exoticness of the slave he replaced and never, despite his youthful appeal,
brought in the money David had as a common crib whore.

     By the time the New York Times story appeared, David Holgate had long
been forgotten and the story was buried in the back pages.  Still, it was
an interesting tale and explained that huge mansion, now surrounded by
barbed wire and armed guards, across the river in Holgate's original town.

     David Holgate III would be happy to know that the quality of slaves
available had steadily improved over the years, primarily due to the
careful animal husbandry practiced at the breeding farms as well as the
ever increasing availability of slaves worldwide as economic times
deteriorated for the "have-nots" while the money supply increased
dramatically for the "haves." Such a scenario bode well for the slave
industry in future years and businessmen were wisely investing plenty of
capital into the burgeoning industry.

     But nobody to date had ever staged parties like The Voluptuary' had in
his heyday and, as far as is known, no single American has ever since owned
650 prime slaves without a heavy mortgage on them.  Hence, dead or alive,
The Voluptuary' remained a legend, even though practically everyone, except
Dallas and Charles (now aging themselves), had forgotten who David Holgate
III ever was.  If it wasn't for the nickname he had acquired for his famous
parties, there would now be no memory of him at all.  But Charles and
Dallas remembered and savored the memory.  It was a period of American
history, they reflected, unlikely to ever occur again.

     The two masters had lost most of their sexual interest in their own
bevy of pleasure slaves, but still enjoyed watching them in action,
especially after dinner as a viable substitute for watching the horrid TV
reality shows.  Romulus was now the house steward and thus freed from
performing anymore himself.  The Egyptian and the blond Holgate-branded
slave they once owned had long ago been sold off, but the two masters
always managed to have some fresh new slavemeat around for their nice
bodies as well as their ability to meet their voyeurist urges. So far,
unlike so many Americans these days, they had avoided buying slaves on
credit or buying them just for conspicuous display. Everything they owned
was actually theirs and theirs alone.  Every slave they owned had plenty of
chores they were required to do around the house and yard other than just
look pretty and stay hard all the time, an economical standard for their
masters and actually good for the slave stock in that each and everyone had
a full and useful life that way.  It was a comfortable life the two enjoyed
to the fullest and when their time was over, they had few regrets.

AT LAST - THE END

[Now that this tale has ended, PLEASE let me know what you thought of it.
I would also appreciate any ideas and suggestions you might have for future
stories. If you liked this tale and would like to read others like it, you
might investigate (on this same site): The Marketplace, Bates Training
Center, The Brazilian, The Physician, Colonel Beddington, and many, many
others (I can send you a complete listing and where to find them).  Thank
you for your response: Bill Smith (anonymous4371@juno.com).]