Date: Wed, 17 Jan 2007 23:59:24 -0800 (PST)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: Young Stud, Part Twelve

YOUNG  STUD

By Pete Brown   petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

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

Part  Twelve

Look, it shouldn't have mattered.  But I hated to see
Juan capturing Jeff's affections like this, and Jeff
displaying his enjoyment of Juan so openly, something
he so rarely did with me.  We got through the day
somehow, though, and at the "demonstration" that
night, I kind of got my revenge by starting off by
forcing him to kneel, then pushing his shoulders onto
the floor and raising his ass in the air, so I could
begin by ramming my dick home as humiliatingly as
possible. And afterwards  I was far from gentle with
him as I fucked him every which way, before covering
his face with my cum, then commanding him to open his
lips so it could trickle in.

It all went down well with the crowd, though,  and
afterwards I got enormous tips, much bigger than
usual.  But afterwards Jeff really did have his
hard-done-by hangdog expression, and as soon as we
were in bed Juan fell on him, comforting him, telling
him what a great guy he was, and begging to be fucked
- a request which Jeff had no difficulty fulfilling!

It was the same the next night, and I was really
pissed off, especially when the bar owner told us that
the boss had been delayed in New York and that he
wouldn't be collecting us until the middle of the next
day, rather than after our demonstration, as had been
planned.  So I had to endue another bout of seeing
Jeff making love - yes, that's what it was - making
love - to Juan, instead of just fucking him.  I lay
awake for hours, but Jeff and Juan were soon asleep,
Jeff heavily so - I think I've told you that like a
lot of guys who are not bright enough to plan the
future so that they find out all the things they ought
to be worried about, Jeff was an untroubled sleeper.

Look, you may think it's unfair of me to do what I did
next, but until then Jeff and I had shared everything.
 So when I saw that Juan was lying mostly off Jeff's
body, I rolled him a little further away, pushed him
onto his belly, and got myself half astride him.  He
began to wake up and I saw his hands reach out as he
whispered "Jeff...."

"No, Juan.  Jeff's asleep.  And keep your voice
down... He needs his sleep:  he's a big guy, and he
works hard."

"Senor Steve... Get off me, please, you're hurting..."

"Shut up, Juan.  I'm just going to fuck you.  That's
what you wanted the other day, a man to fuck you..."

"Senor Steve, Jeff does it..."

"You need fucking by a proper man, Juan.  A man like
me who knows how to fuck men.  Jeff really only knows
how to fuck women... And when he fucks you, he treats
you like a woman.  I'm going to show you how a man
gets fucked... You've seen me with Jeff, haven't you?"

His voice was halting now.  "Yes I saw you tonight...
Senor Jeff is hurting... You are rough..."

"That's proper man-on-man sex, Juan, now....."

I forced his face into the mattress to stifle his
cries as I entered his asshole.  It should have been
easy, as it was still slimed with Jeff's cum.   And
Jeff's cock is thicker than mine, so the boy ought to
have been used to it  (although mine is longer).  But
he began to struggle and cry, so I had to work hard to
totally subdue him and shut him up.

It was absolutely fantastic!  Having the kid
struggling underneath me, trying to prevent me
entering  him and fucking him, just made it so much
more erotic, so much more sexy, so much more exciting.
 I knew this was what a man was meant to do - a big,
powerful man like me should have his way over a young,
weak guy like Juan.  The more he resisted, the more it
drove me wild with passion and desire.  And once I'd
forced my dick head into his hole, I was perfectly
unable to stop myself from slamming my dick right
home, revelling, as I did, in the way that his whole
body bucked and his muffled cries broke out again.

I wanted it to go on for a long, long, time.  I
flipped him over onto his back, then, still inside
him, sort of rolled off the bed and stood up:  I could
easily to this, as he didn't weight all that much.  I
stood there with one arm around him mostly supporting
him, pressing my face into his chest, as I began to
pump my hips.  He started to shout, and with my other
hand I reached up and tried to stop him by forcing his
head down onto my shoulder, but he bit me, and began
to kick at me with his heels, landing a veritable
torrent of sharp blows on the back of my thighs as his
legs curled around me as I carried on fucking him.
The more he did this, though, the more the intensity
of my fucking increased - having him resist and
struggle was such a complete turn on.

Suddenly, though, I heard a great shout of "What the
fuck.....", and realised Jeff was awake.  He was
pulling himself to a a sitting position in bed, and
rubbing his eyes (he doesn't wake up easily!). He saw
Juan struggling, my body heaving as I held him in the
air fucking him, and started to move.... But at that
moment it was all over:  I cried out as my balls began
to pump their biggest load of cum ever, I reckon, up
into Juan.

"Steve....", Jeff roared.  "What the fuck are you
doing?"   For a big man he is remarkably nimble when
he needs  to be, and almost instantly he was standing
by me, taking hold of Juan and lifting him down off my
cock.  Juan threw his arms around Jeff and began
sobbing, and Jeff was rubbing his back tenderly,
trying to comfort him.

"You bastard, Steve!", Jeff stormed.  "What have you
don with Juan?"

"Only what you did.  But properly.  A young guy like
that who wants to go with men needs to learn what it's
all about properly.  So, as I needed sex, and he was
available, I used him."

"You raped him...."

"Jeff, get real will you?  He's been throwing himself
at us ever since we got here.  He's only got what he
asked for."

"You bastard, Steve!  Couldn't you leave the kid
alone?  He's a good kid, a...."

"...well you liked fucking him, so why shouldn't I?
We're meant to be buddies, Jeff, and ever since we've
been here all you've wanted to do is get your dick up
his ass.... And you're the one who'd always going on
about not being a fag...."

"You don't fuck guys who don't want it, Steve!
Especially not kids like Juan...."

"Well I did, and I'm going to do it again later...."

Jeff stood there, and I could see him almost glowering
with rage.  His fists were clenched at his side, and
he advanced towards me  "You'll leave him alone,
Steve..."

"...leave him for you, you mean!"

Jeff's fists were raised now, and I shouted "Don't try
it, Jeff!  I've told you that you might have been a
trained fighter, but you're older now... And I'm fit
and ready for you...."

At that moment the door opened and the boss walked in.
 He saw Jeff looking as if he was going to take a
swipe at me, and me in a defensive stance, and snapped
"What the fuck are you two doing?  'Slave Rest', at
once!"

I think both Jeff and I were so surprised that we did
as he commanded, and stood there, breathing hard, and,
I suppose, our tempers cooling.

"Boss", Jeff began - which was unusual as he didn't
often take an initiative  "Boss, Steve just fucked
this boy against his will..."

"NO, Boss, he asked for it!  Just because Jeff has
been fucking him, he thinks that I can't...."

"Silence!", the boss shouted.  "Both of you!  How dare
you fuck without my permission... Either of you!"

"You said we could have sex, boss", Jeff almost
shouted back.  "And this poor kid here needs someone
to be good to him, and I...."

"Silence!"  The boss was really angry now.  "When I
said you could have sex, I meant with each other.    I
ought to punish you both severely for fucking the boy,
with or without him wanting it.  But it's fortunate
for you that I have other matters to pursue today.
Steve - go and get showered, and cleaned out, and
shaved:  I want your body at the peak of perfection as
I am going to show you to someone.  And you, Jeff -
well, you stay here.  I suppose you may as well work
for the bar owner again, until I get back."

We both stood there and the boss snapped "Are you both
deaf, or totally disobedient?  Do as I command.  Now!"

I guess I thought that the boss was going to show me
to some prospective new client for studding, so I took
care to make myself neat and tidy, and scraped a razor
over my balls again, and so on.  By the time I'd
finished and had put on clean slave shorts and a T,
the boss looked cross as he said we were late.  We
walked to the subway as the boss said the appointment
was right downtown and, of course I hard to run to the
front of the train to get into the slave carriage, and
then, when we were in the centre, the boss was annoyed
as it took me a couple of minutes to find him on the
platform.

We walked to one of those big, swanky, expensive
hotels and the boss strode across the lobby as he
evidently knew where we were going.   Fortunately
there was a discrete sign by the elevators that said
"Slaves accompanying owners are allowed in the
elevators with their owners, but at all other times
must use the stairs", as we were going to the twenty
fifth floor.

The corridor was wide, and luxurious, and silent.  We
went to a room and the boss pressed the bell, and a
few moments later a slave opened it and ushered us in
- it was a suite, as we were in the sitting area, with
two big couches and a coffee table.  A moment later
the door from the bedroom opened, and a man walked in.
 I was standing respectfully at slave rest with my
head bowed, as the boss liked, so it was only when he
called out "Stephen!" That I glanced up and saw it was
my dad!

Well, I was almost in shock.  Dad almost ran across
the room and threw his arms around me, and was hugging
me and, his breath was all ragged, as if he was on the
verge of  crying.  I was  all choked up, too, and
threw my arms around dad.

The boss let us stand there for a few moments, then
said quietly "Steve,  'Slave rest'."

"Please, boss...."

"Do as you're told, Steve!"

"Sir, my son...", dad began.

"As we discussed on the phone, Mr Masters, Steve is
not your son.  He ceased to be your son when he was
enslaved.  He is my slave.  I own him, and when I give
him an order, I expect to be obeyed."  His tone
changed again and he snapped "Steve, I told you 'Slave
rest'.  Do I have to punish you?"

I still stood there, almost frozen.  Dad looked at the
boss "Oh come, come, sir... He's going to be my son
again... There's no need for this...."

"Mr Masters, I understood you to be a lawyer..."

"Yes, of course.  In Manchester; we are the premier
law firm in the state..."

"...then  as a lawyer you will know that precision is
important in all things.  You may indeed buy this
slave from me, if the terms remain mutually agreeable,
but he will never become your son again.  Under the
laws here a slave cannot, for example, inherit your
property."

"Dad, are you going to buy me?"

"Yes, Stephen.  I'm going to buy you, and take you
home to the North, and you can pick up your life where
you left off."

"As a lawyer myself - and about to become very active
again - I think I should warn you, Mr Masters, that
what you are proposing is unlawful.  You may not
remove a slave from the South, and so you cannot take
Steve back to New Hampshire."

"As one lawyer to another then, sir, let me remind you
of the well known principle that a lawyer does not
unnecessarily delve into aspects of another's business
that have no bearing on the case in hand.  So what I
intend to do with Stephen is my own affair."

The boss just shrugged.  But I sensed a problem.
"Boss, if you're selling me to my dad, what about
Jeff?"  I looked at dad and asked anxiously "Have you
bought Jeff too?"

"Don't be silly, Stephen!  What would I want with a
slave?  And, anyway, you were expensive enough...."

"Boss, what's going to happen to Jeff?  The studding
work is drying up, and he can't do 'demonstrations' by
himself...."

The boss looked at me calmly.  "I'm selling Jeff, too.
 My bitch of an ex-wife has re-married, and so has no
further claim on me.  So I have been in discussions
with my old law firm, who are in certain difficulties
that you would not comprehend, and they have asked me
to return to New York as Managing Partner.  It was a
tough decision, but perhaps I have done all there is
to do as an itinerant slave owner and stud master - it
was amusing, and interesting, but I am looking forward
to returning to my old life.  It was fortuitous that
your father contacted me, and I have struck a deal
with him, rather than putting you up for auction."

"But what about Jeff?"  My voice was raised, stressed.

"I have no further use for him either, so he is going
for auction.  And, anticipating that there would be
some unpleasantness  - your tone is far from
respectful - I have arranged for him to be collected
form the bar."   He looked at his watch, and added
"...round about now."

"NO!", I shouted.  "You can't do this!  Not to Jeff.
Him and me.... You can't split us up...."

The boss just shrugged.  "I have done so already.
Your father offered me a good price, and I will sell
you to him.  And I expect Jeff will fetch a good price
at auction as older, fit whiteys are coming more into
fashion...."

"NO!", I almost screamed now.  "Dad, please... Make
him stop... Offer to buy Jeff."

My father looked at me sternly.  "Stephen, I want to
hear no more of this.  Your owner has described to me
something of the relationship between you and this
other slave, and it is clearly unsatisfactory.  I
would not buy him, even if I could.  You will be
coming back with me to Manchester, and you'll soon
forget all this aberrant behaviour.  You'll go back to
college, find a nice girl, settle down, give me a
grandson... Your mother will like that, too - she
still talks to me about you, even though since our
divorce she won't talk to me about anything else."

"Dad, please... It's not 'aberrant behaviour'... Jeff
and I love each other...  You haven't let him be sold,
to some new owner who might just want to bugger
him..."  I turned around desperately to the boss and
went on "And you know how Jeff needs someone to look
after him...."

"Slave, shut the fuck up!", the boss said angrily.  "I
have sold him, and that's that.  But I am not, as you
ought to be aware, totally insensitive:  I bought that
young Mexican slave from the bar owner and they're
being auctioned as a package - Jeff seemed to get
along well enough with him, and the Mexican seemed a
bright lad...."

"I'm not a slave any longer - you heard dad... How
could you do this to me and Jeff?  We served you well,
we...."

"Steve, you are still a slave, my slave.  And here in
the South you will always be a slave, as slavery is
for life.  And as my slave, you will obey me, and be
respectful.  I have not yet sold you to your father,
and whilst you remain my slave...."

"Oh shut the fuck up..." I spun around and went on
Dad, cut through this crap... Make him sell Jeff to
you...."

The boss looked almost apoplectic.  "I will not have
this!  Not from a slave."  He turned to my father and
added "I am afraid this is the problem that I referred
to in our various discussions.  Steve is still unruly,
and can get out of control.  I advised you that it
would be difficult to control him...  And, indeed, I
suspect that's been the problem all his life:  you
never properly disciplined him as a child, so he
thought he could do and say whatever he pleases.  If
he'd not been wild, and had been properly respectful,
I don't think he'd be a slave now as he would not have
committed all that public damage as a college
student."

Dad just stood there, saying nothing.  The boss went
on "Before I sell him to you I am therefore going to
do something that he has needed for a long time:
punish him severely.  As an owner I was always
threatening it, but never quite got around to it as he
has a certain charm and could talk me around.  But
now, after his rudeness, and as an assistance to you,
I am going to go through with it.  Perhaps he will
remember, when and if you ever get him back to
Manchester, that there is punishment waiting for those
who persist in disobedience."

"Sir", dad began, "I'm sure there's no need of this...
 Let me just complete the purchase..."

"No.  As ever, Steve would get away with it.  And it's
not good for him.  You should be pleased that I am
going to do this - it would be hard for you, as his
father, at his age, I suspect:  you should have done
this long ago."

The boss turned to me, pointed to the edge of the room
and said quietly "Like all good suites, this one is
well equipped.  As well as a trouser press, I see they
have provided their guests with a punishment horse.
Go and pull that one over into the middle of the room,
and get on it, on your belly."

"NO!"

The boss looked calm.  He turned to my father, and
said "See?  He now disobeys even simple, direct
orders.  May I use your phone?"

Dad nodded, and the boss picked up the hotel phone and
pressed a big red button on it - the same sort of red
button as on his cell phone, that would call the SP!
Here in this prestigious hotel, though, it evidently
called the hotel security staff, as a few moments
later there was a knock on the door - no, a thunderous
knocking on the door - and without waiting for an
answer three big men came in.  They were dressed in
smart black uniforms with the hotel logo on the chest,
and without even stopping, two of them seized me,
twisted my arm up around my back until I screamed, and
forced me to my knees.  They held  me there as the
third one said "Sorry for the delay, sir - but the
slave is under control now."

I saw dad looking aghast, and I shouted "Let me go,
you fuckers... I haven't done anything...."

One of the men holding me slapped my face, hard.  So
hard my head was thrown to one side.  "Shut the fuck
up, boy!  Even if you hadn't done anything before,
that outburst is enough to merit a punishment."

"Quite!", the boss  said quietly.  "Would you be so
good as to bring the horse to the centre of the room
and fasten him to it?  By the wrists will be
sufficient, as I prefer the legs to be able to move
futilely as I beat him:  it emphasises to him how
helpless he is, and how much in my power."

The three men clearly knew what they were doing , as
within seconds I was lying face down on the horse, my
hands secured to the front legs with the in-built
manacles.  One of them slapped me hard on the ass, and
I tried to get up, but of course couldn't.

"Is that all, sir?", their leader asked the boss, and
when he nodded, they left the room.

"Now, Steve", the boss began.  "You once saw me
'slipper' Jeff.  And that's what I'm going to do to
you.  Painful - very painful - but no unsightly cane
marks or permanent damage to that delightful butt of
yours..."

"Sir, I must protest", dad began.

"Mr Masters, please stay out of this.  Steve remains
my property, and I could yet choose not to sell him to
you.  I could, after all, simply send him to auction
and not tell you where..."

The boss came around behind me and I felt him open my
shorts and pull them down.  "No.... Please... My
dad...."  I spluttered.  I mean, I hadn't had my naked
ass in front of my dad since I was a tiny kid.  We
weren't prudish at home or anything like that, but mom
and dad thought that I should at least wear boxer
shorts when I went from the bathroom to my own room
before and after a shower.  And I guess we were not at
all used to total nudity in the family.  But now here
I was, on this horse, my butt totally exposed to dad.
Instinctively I shuffled my feet together as I did not
want dad to see my balls handing down between my
thighs.

The boss ran his hand over my butt, and I wriggled
slightly.  "See, Mr Masters - Steve is in excellent
condition!  I always made sure he exercised properly
as my customers liked to see a slave they're paying
for to stud is in good shape - it augers well for the
progeny."

I could feel myself starting to glow with
embarrassment and shame, at having dad see the boss
handle me like this.  But then the boss said "Here,
Steve - open your mouth:  I'm going to gag you as
you'll make a lot of noise, and we don't want to
disturb the other guests..."

Fuck him, I thought, and kept my mouth defiantly
closed.  I felt the boss's hand reach between my legs,
and in spite of my efforts to clamp them closed tight,
his fingers wriggled through and found my balls.  He
squeezed, and I screamed.  And then the boss said
quietly "Steve, I don't want to hurt you, especially
not with your father here.  So do as you're told, boy,
and open your mouth to take the gag."

He had me, and he and I both knew it.  I opened my
mouth, although I glared defiantly at the boss, and he
took a silk handkerchief out of his top pocket, shoot
it out to a single pane and screwed into a ball, which
he then stuffed into my mouth.   I could taste the
boss's aftershave on it, pungently citrus-like.

I felt the boss's hand on my butt again then, as he
said quietly "You remember the slipper, don't you,
Steve?  And how Jeff gave in and began to cry?  Well,
now you're going to receive the same treatment....."

He slammed the slipper down on to my butt and the
"slap" echoed around the room.  I almost shot off the
ground with the surprise and pain - the initial harsh
bite of the thing, and then the dull ache that spread
all through me.  And then, before I could finish
analysing what was happening to me and begin to fully
comprehend the discomfort I was in, another terrible
strike, at my other butt cheek.  Now I did,
instinctively, cry out, but the silk ball in my mouth
effectively silenced me.

I knew I was bucking around on the horse, desperately
trying to avoid the blows as they rained down on me.
I couldn't move my body far with my wrists cuffed to
the front legs, but as my legs were free I frantically
tried to move away, or from side to side, or even just
to change the angle a bit, as the punishment went on.
I could see why the boss had had my ankles free - if
I'd been totally secure, I would somehow have known
that there was nothing I could do about it.  But with
this very limited movement there was the faintest
possibility that I could somehow avoid the blows - or
so my brain thought, although the reality was
otherwise, and this gave me an additional feeling of
utter helplessness in the face of the boss's treatment
of me.

Strangely, dad didn't protest or anything:  perhaps he
was mindful of what the boss had said about not
selling me to him, and was remaining entirely passive
in spit of my suffering, as this was the lesser of two
evils.    I lost track of the number of times the
slipper smashed into my bare butt, but at some point
the boss stopped, and came and stood in front of me,
panting from his exertions.

"There, Steve!  You have been needing that for a long
time.  I'm going to give my slipper to your new owner,
who I suppose might as well be your father, as I will
have no further need of it, although he surely will if
you continue to be rebellious and disobedient."

As he said this, he pulled  his handkerchief out of my
mouth: the handkerchief now wet with my spit.  I began
t say something, choking back the tears of pain and
rage as I did so, but the boss  got in first "Careful,
Steve!  Before you say anything, remember the need to
be respectful and subservient to your owner at all
times.... The slipper could be used again,
remember..."

In spite of my anger and humiliation I gritted my
teeth and said nothing therefore, and, smiling to
himself, the boss leaned down and undid the straps
holding my wrists to the horse.  I stood upright,
terribly conscious of the pain in my butt, and without
turning around so that I would expose my dick to my
dad, quickly pulled up my shorts and stood there.

"So, Mr Masters, do you still want to go ahead and buy
this slave?", the boss asked.

"Of course... He's my son...."

"Perhaps I might remind you of the law, Mr Masters.
He is not your son, as I said earlier.  He is a slave.
And, in any case, a close relative may not buy a slave
- the law does not want an owner who could make life
easy for those who have transgressed.... If you
persist in telling me that you are Steve's father, I
am afraid that as a responsible citizen I would have
to decline the sale.  So I ask again, do you still
want to buy this slave, for the price we discussed?"

"Yes."

"Dad, please buy Jeff as well....", I begged.

"One more word out of you, Steve", the boss snapped,
"And you'll be on the horse again.  This gentleman and
I are negotiating for your sale and purchase, and a
slave has nothing to add."

"I've already said that it is only this slave that I
will buy", dad said to the boss.  "Please continue,
sir."

The boss opened his slim, elegant leather document
case and bought out two documents that looked as if
they were "legal" - thick paper, those paragraphs
typed without punctuation or spacing.  "Two standard
contracts, approved for use throughout the South", he
said to dad.  "Perhaps you'd like to read them before
signing...?"

"No, sir.  I'm a lawyer, too, and I respect the
integrity of another lawyer - especially one who is
about to become Managing Partner of a prestigious New
York firm - I've studied the standard contract, and
provided I have your assurance that there are no
deviations, I'm happy to sign."

Dad got out his expensive fountain pen that he always
used for important matters as I'd seen so many times
before, and went to sign.  "Stop, Mr Masters...."  The
boss held dad's arm lightly.  "As you are familiar
with the contract you will know that you agree that
you have inspected the slave properly."

"Oh I'm sure he's OK.  I'll take your word...."

"I'm sorry, Mr Masters, but I must insist on you
formally inspecting the slave.  Should there be a
problem in the future and a Court asked me if due
process was followed, as a lawyer and therefore an
officer of the Court, I'd be bound to say 'no' and the
whole process would be invalid."

"You're right, of course, sir.  I'm sure this won't
take a moment...." Dad answered.  And then to my
horror I heard the boss say "Unclothe, Steve, so we
can inspect you properly."

"Please, boss.... Not in front of my dad...."

"Steve, do you want to go on the horse again?  And if
you refer again to this gentleman, your prospective
new owner, as your father, I will be forced to call
off the sale.  Now, unclothe - it's not as if you have
not been naked in front of men before!"

Well he was right, of course - but it's different when
you're twenty one and the men you're appearing naked
in front of include your dad!  But what was I to do?
Turning away from them so I didn't expose my dick, I
pulled my T off, then slowly let my shorts fall over
my hips.  I thought, and I think dad thought, that
this would just be a formality.  But the boss put his
hands around my neck and probed under my ears with his
thumbs, then said "Come, Mr Masters - please do as I
have just done and verify that his lymph glands are
not swollen."

"I'm sure there is no need of that, sir..."

"Slave inspections require a deal of formality, Mr
Masters, and I must insist...."

I felt dad's fingers around my neck, and then the boss
said "Now please run down over his shoulders and upper
back - please verify that there is no apparent muscle
damage.  And at the same time notice that the tattoo
across his shoulders is a real one, and indelible, and
that I cannot be held responsible should you decide
that you would have preferred a clean-skinned slave."

"Well I suppose we could have it removed...."

"I think not, Mr Masters.  Not one that size.  There
would always be residual traces.  I think you should
keep the slave marked like that with his name, as it's
useful when he is shirtless and with other slaves, for
ready identification."

The boss's hands were on my back again and he called
dad's attention to something.  "Please rub your finger
over this tiny mark....  Do you feel it?"

"Yes, sir..."

"That, Mr Masters, is the insertion point for Steve's
chip.  In spite of using the best veterinarian,
there's always some faint mark, but from any
reasonable distance it's not noticeable.  He is
properly registered at the slave registry with that
chip."

"A chip, sir?"

"Oh, you are probably unaware that, by law, all slaves
must have a responder chip buried in them.  It's to
prevent escapes, and illegal exportation:  there's a
'no slave' zone within  half a mile of the border with
the North, and any chipped slave entering it will
trigger an alert to the SP.  Similarly all the
airports would instantly alert Security were a chipped
slave attempt to board a plane:  you need to make
special arrangements for internal flights, and all
international travel, even to Mexico and Canada, is of
course prohibited."

"I was thinking of taking St... the slave back to
Manchester with me...."

"Impossible, Mr Masters.  When Congress approved the
slavery legislation it was on the specific
understanding that slaves would remain in the South:
it was of course in the interests of slaves, as it is
considered highly undesirable for Americans to be
exported to other countries."

As I stood there, I felt like laughing!  Congress
being concerned for the export of Americans?  Some of
the things that were done to slaves here at home
needed attention first!

"But how....?"

"Mr Masters, as a lawyer, and an officer of the court,
you surely cannot be expecting me to advise you about
how to evade the law?  The penalties for the illegal
export of slaves are severe, and not something that
another lawyer such as yourself would want to risk,
believe me.  You could find yourself a slave, rather
than a slave owner!  Some of those who do this type of
thing are caught every year.... It's in many of the
papers, as a warning to others."

"When you say 'do this type of thing', you make it
sound as if there's some sort of means of doing it..."

"Well yes, as I said.  There are slave smugglers who,
for a fee, will export a slave illegally.  But a
respectable man like yourself, Mr Masters, would use
such people with extreme caution:  they tend to be in
places like Miami, in the Latino ghettos.  At the
start of the century they used to smuggle illegal
immigrants to Miami from Cuba, but the slavery laws
stopped that as the immigrants, if caught, were
enslaved.  Now they smuggle slaves out to Cuba, and
'freedom'... But, as I said, such people are acting
completely illegally, and you would not wish to
associate with them."

"Quite so, sir.  Thank you for the 'warning', dad
said.

"Right - we will continue the inspection.  Now, feel
the slave's butt, and observe that it is smooth and
that there are no hidden ridges under the skin.  In
spite of the slave's tendency to argue and be less
that totally subservient, I have refrained from caning
him as that does damage the underlying tissue, and
many owners prefer a slave's butt to be smooth."

I winced as dad's hands cupped my butt, not only
because I was still suffering badly from the
slippering, but because it's not right to have your
dad fondling your butt, is it?   But mercifully it
didn't go on for long, and dad withdrew his hands
after a couple of seconds.

"Right, Steve:  touch your toes", the boss commanded.
"We need to see that asshole of yours."

"Please, boss, no...."

End Of Part Twelve