Date: Thu, 28 Dec 2006 21:43:55 -0800 (PST)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: Young Stud, Part Five

YOUNG  STUD

By Pete Brown   petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

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

Part  Five


For the next couple of days "work" was relatively
normal.  It's surprising, I suppose, how quickly I got
to regard it as a "job", albeit one that I enjoyed,
actually, and, thinking about it, was very good at!  I
came to understand that except for rare examples like
the factory and Coon, most of the boss's "clients"
were friends, or, at least, acquaintances.  They were
almost all wealthy (well, they had to be, I suppose,
to own one or more slave bitches in the first place),
and the attraction to them was to be able to enjoy a
sex show without having to drive into the nearest
large town and go to some seedy club or other:  they
mostly packed their wives off to Dallas or Miami or
Phoenix or somewhere for a shopping trip, and then had
a sex show brought to their door.  Getting the bitches
pregnant was sometimes important, but mostly they
wanted to see a real show, with Jeff, or me, or the
two of us together, really giving it to the bitches.

The boss remained mostly calm throughout, or perhaps
"amused" might be the right word as he saw the other
guy - or guys, as it often happened that a small
"party" had been put together -  watching us and
rubbing their crotches in frustration that we were
doing what they clearly wanted to do themselves but
which etiquette, or fear of divorce, prevented them
from doing. As wealthy men they'd not want to risk the
wrath of their wives and the subsequent financial
mayhem in the divorce courts.

I had wondered what the boss did for sex, and supposed
that he jerked off when he was in the bathroom alone -
we never saw him go for any of the bitches himself, or
even join in a jerk-off session that sometimes
accompanied  the "performances" that Jeff and I gave.
For myself, it got easier and easier - I relaxed,
realised that the men watching were actually envious
of me for my youth, and for my body which was so
beautifully formed and well proportioned - unlike most
of theirs!   And I really got to like Jeff - he was
always so calm, so amusing, and just a great guy to be
with:  although I suppose that if we had not been
slaves together, it would have been unlikely that we'd
have met, or, indeed, that if we had,  that we'd have
hit it off.  I was a college boy, son of relatively
wealthy parents, and he was, at best, a labourer.  And
the age difference too would have kept us apart - me
with my college buddies in coffee shops and the
occasional bar, talking about music and videos and
stuff, and him in  "hard" bars after a day's work,
drinking with his buddies and talking sex.  But as it
was it was really great to have this big, friendly,
totally likeable guy lying beside me in bed, a guy who
liked sex, and who was so unembarrassed by his body
that he thought it "natural" to lie close to me, to
wrap his arms around me, and to whisper little
comments and jokes about the day's happenings when the
boss had drifted off to sleep.  This was how guys were
meant to be, I thought, and I wished that I'd been
this close to any of my so-called "buddies" at school
or college.  He in turn told me how great it as to
have someone who was a bit like a younger brother, and
he kept reminding me about how lucky we were to have
the boss as our owner as things could be a lot worse
for both of us.

It was after a particularly good day - a day when I'd
had my first virgin, that  things started to go wrong.
 It began so well:  this owner had a couple of young
niggas both aged sixteen and the time had come to
deflower them.  Jeff took one first, and I watched as
he did the "Jeff thing", kissing and stroking the
terrified girl to begin with, then smiling all the
time as he made soothing noises and got her in
position, and then thrust home.  He was so gentle once
he'd broken through her hymen, and although the bitch
had screamed and cried a bit, she looked really happy
once it was all over.  I'd followed his example and
did much the same, and as we drove away the boss had
even congratulated me about the mature way I'd done
it. "A lot of nineteen year olds would have panicked
when they learned they'd got a virgin", he told me.
"Then they'd have been so excited at the thought that
they'd have gone in so hard that they'd have damaged
her.  And it was really good afterwards when, without
having to be told, you came and showed the client the
blood all over your dick, just as Jeff had done."

I was kind of glowing with this praise, and at the
motel the boss had persuaded them that we could use
the pool, and that was great, too, as I beat Jeff
again.  And at dinner we'd been allowed an icecream
after our huge steaks.  All in all, as I lay in bed
with Jeff, I felt totally at peace with the world.

The boss had had a few glasses of wine, though, and
when he came out of the bathroom in his T and boxer
shorts, he lay flat on his back and muttered "A good
day, boys.  You've made me really horny.... Jeff, get
over here!"

Jeff slid his body over mine - I kind of liked the way
he did that sometimes, crawling over me rather than
going around the bed.  I got a lot of nice contact
with his skin as it slid over mine, and a chance to
see his muscles in action really close to.   He knelt
by the side of the boss's bed, then as I watched in
total amazement,  reached into the boss's boxers and
got his dick out!  The next moment Jeff was kissing
the boss's dick head, then he began to suck at it,
moving his lips sensuously up and down the first
centimetre or two of the shaft, brushing the head with
a gentle caress on each stroke as he did so.  I could
hardly believe it - I mean, up until now the boss had
seemed uninterested in anything queer like this!  And
I had thought Jeff was a proper man, and would never
want to suck another guy's cock.

After a few moments the boss called out "Another
lesson for you, Steve.... Get over here...."

I moved across the room as if in a daze, and the boss
told me to kneel on the other side of the bed so that
I could get a good view of what Jeff was doing.  I
knelt there, watching Jeff sucking away at the boss
with such evident relish that I could hardly believe
it was happening.  Then the boss reached down and
pushed Jeff's head away, and said calmly to me "OK,
Steve - you've seen Jeff at work, now you have a go."

I stared at the boss's dick sticking up vertically
from the fly of his boxers, his greying pubes peeping
through.  The end was all wet and slimy with Jeff's
spit, and I knew I couldn't do it.  I stammered
"Please, boss, no.... Let Jeff finish....."

"Steve, get on to my cock.  Get on to it now, if you
don't want to be punished...."

I could see Jeff staring at me, his eyes pleading with
me to obey the boss.  But  I couldn't - not even when
Jeff whispered "Come on, Steve.... Look, I'll show you
again.....", and bent forward to take the boss's dick
in his mouth again.

The boss slapped at his head angrily, saying "Keep out
of it, Jeff!", and then to me he went on "You are
indeed going to suck my cock, Steve.  So are you going
to do right now, as a slave should, when his owner
orders him to?  Or are we going to have to go through
a lot of boring punishment before you realise that
when I give you an order, you obey?"

"Boss, please... If you're horny, Jeff has said he'll
do it...."

"Yes, boss", Jeff added, "I know the way you like
it.... Let me finish you off...."

The boss sat up, and tucked his dick away into his
boxers.  "Right, Steve", he snapped.  "The time has
come to show you what happens to slaves who disobey.
Lie on your belly on the bed, with your feet on the
floor."

I shuffled forward and did as he said, as the boss
told Jeff to "Fetch the punishment cane from the SUV -
 the very thin one that really stings."


Jeff went to pull on his shorts, and the boss snapped
"Can't you obey even a simple order?  Did I tell you
to dress?  Just go out to the SUV and get the cane!"

I watched as Jeff walked across the room naked, his
dick bobbing up and down, then went out of the room
for the long walk to the parking lot.  It wasn't that
he was ashamed of being naked, rather that it was so
humiliating to have a guy like that having to go out
across the parking lot without a stitch of clothes on.
 Jeff might be a slave, but he was a white guy, and
it's not right to make a guy appear in public like
that, is it?

He soon came back with the cane, and handed it to the
boss.  "No, Jeff.... You're stronger than me, and I
think Steve respects you.  So if you administer the
punishment it's better - eight strokes, four on each
butt cheek."

"Please sir...." Jeff began hesitatingly.  "Eight's a
lot, sir.... I'm sure Steve will learn the lesson with
only...."

"Silence!"  The boss roared.  "I'm tired of hearing
this!  Ever since Steve arrived you've not been the
obedient, respectful slave you used to be.  I will not
have dissension and argument from a slave.  Eight
strokes, as I said, and I want at least half of them
to be hard enough to produce blood!"

Jeff came round to where I was lying and I felt the
pressure of one of his hands in the small of my back,
as if he was holding me down symbolically.  "I'm sorry
Steve", he whispered, and then I heard the "swish" of
the cane, before my world exploded into pain.


Look, I'd never been hurt before - I wasn't one to
fight other guys, and I did track and field, rather
than football.  So I wasn't used to the idea that one
man might physically hurt another - and especially not
coldly and deliberately like this.  And hurt it did:
those of you who have received a caning will know that
it's an insidious punishment - first there's the
terrible acid stinging as the cane first bites into
your muscles.  That's enough to cause you to scream in
agony (as I did).  And then as that starts to decay,
you get the terrible lingering aching dull pain of the
bruised and battered muscles all complaining.  Just as
you think that couldn't get any worse, the second
stroke comes, and it starts all over again.

Jeff struck me four times, and I was now lying there
whimpering and mewling in-between each blow, so much
was I hurting.   Then I heard him say "Please, boss,
no more... I'm sure Steve has learned his lesson...."

"I said eight, Jeff!"

"But boss, look at his butt - those stripes... Please
don't make me hit him again."

"You fucking slave!  It's worse than I thought!
You're arguing with me, Jeff, like you used never to
do.  And disobeying me.  Well you can stop for the
time being, as I think it's time you were reminded of
what happens when you disobey me!  Go out and fetch
the slipper."

Jeff didn't even attempt to pull his shorts on this
time, but went out to the SUV, and the boss gave me a
little lecture.  "You see, Steve, what happens when
you disobey?  Not only do you get hurt, but really
good men like Jeff get hurt too.  He's very loyal and
a good friend, as you probably know - but he's not as
bright as you are, Steve, and you should have known
that you'd get him into trouble by your actions.  So
now I hope you feel bad about what's going to happen
to Jeff - he's been punished before, so this
punishment really has to be severe if it's to make an
impression on him.  And all of this could have been
avoided if you'd simply done as you were ordered -
there's nothing wrong in sucking a man's cock, after
all, and I cannot allow this wilfulness to go
unpunished.  You can consider the pain Jeff is about
to experience as part of your punishment, Steve, and I
hope you find some way of making it up to Jeff."

When the boss had said "slipper", I'd kind of imagined
the sort of thing that old folks wear, the sort of
thing you see cartoon characters taking off and using
to chastise an unruly child.  But when he came in Jeff
handed the boss a thick yet flexible leather strap
about a foot long, with a handle at one end.  The boss
swished it through the air once or twice and I could
see how the flexible leather could really hurt when it
was brought down onto bare skin.  And it looked as if
it was heavy, so with any momentum behind it there's
be real pain when it made contact.

"Right, Jeff - you know the form.  It's a long time
since I had to slipper you - and I'm surprised that
you've forgotten the pain.  And this time I'm going to
go on until I'm tired, and not just give you the
twenty strokes you had last time.  I want you really
to remember this, and if it wasn't for the fact that
tomorrow's client has specifically asked for you, it
would be the cane and not the slipper - but we can
hardly turn up to stud with a slave with his butt
criss-crossed with welts, can we?  What would that say
about that slave's attitude?"

As I watched, Jeff went and lay on his belly on the
bed, just as I was, and spread his feet out on the
floor.  The boss got up from where he was still lying
and sat astride Jeff's back, settling himself jus
above Jeff's waist, facing Jeff's butt.  I watched in
fascinated horror as the boss first stroked Jeff's
butt, as if judging the target, then raised the
slipper and brought it crashing down onto Jeff's bare
skin.  The "slap" noise as the heavy, flexible leather
hit Jeff's bare butt sounded like a pistol shot in the
room.

I could see Jeff's face contorting as the first blows
struck, and his hands began to frantically scrabble at
the bedclothes.  With the boss astride him even a
strong guy like Jeff could not move far, though, and
soon he was burying his face in the bedclothes to try
to stifle his cries as the blows continued to rain
down.  Of course I now know that this stuff is kind of
"additive" - even gentle blows hitting the same place
often enough start to really hurt, and these were not
gentle blows:  soon even Jeff was forced to start
crying out loud as the boss continued his beating of
Jeff's butt, and I could see Jeff's legs frantically
moving form side to side, and in and out, in a futile
effort to try to alter the site where the blows were
landing.

I really don't know how long the boss went on for, or
how many times the slipper crashed into Jeff's butt,
but  I suspect that the boss really did do as he had
said, and went on hitting Jeff until he was exhausted.
  The boss got off Jeff then, and Jeff continued to
lie there, his face buried in the bed.  His shouts and
cries of agony had long since turned into a low,
terrible moan, and his legs were twitching feebly, his
feet scrabbling around as if that would bring some
relief to him.

The boss said quietly to me "Go and feel Jeff's butt.
Yours is painful after four cane strokes, but  I can
assure you he is feeling far worse.  Run your hands
over his cheeks and feel the heat radiating from them
- and then think on, that this is all your fault."

I went and stood behind Jeff, and touched his butt as
lightly as I could with the tips of my fingers.  It
was fiery hot, and very red, and Jeff's moaning
changed note even with this lightest of touches from
me.  I heard the boss say "By tomorrow that will all
be bruising, but it will be even, all over, and so the
client will think it's just Jeff's natural
coloration."

"Now, Steve", he went on, "Are you ashamed at the
suffering you've brought on Jeff?"

I nodded, so totally choked up I couldn't speak.  The
pain from my own butt must surely be insignificant
compared to what Jeff was suffering.  And I knew the
boss was right - Jeff was a great guy, but not always
very bright, and in his desire to do the best for me,
he'd rush on and anger the boss:  it really was my
fault he'd been hurt.

The boss continued quietly, now showing his control.
"Right, then, Steve.  Earlier, before we diverted for
these little punishments, I told you to suck my cock.
Come over here, boy, and kneel down in front of me,
and take up where you left off."

In spite of my guilty thoughts I still couldn't do it,
and I shook my head dumbly.  In response, the boss
picked up the cane and simply lashed out at Jeff's
butt as he still lay there.  I couldn't bear to hear
the scream that Jeff made, and the way he continued to
sob afterwards: I knew how the cane had hurt me, and I
could only imagine how very, very much worse it must
be for Jeff after his slippering.  I fell to my knees
in front of the boss.  His hands ruffled my hair, and
he said calmly "That's a good boy, Steve!  You don't
want to hurt Jeff, do you, as that's what will happen
if you keep disobeying me.  Now, get my cock out, and
show me how well you've learned already to give me
pleasure."

I reached into the boss's boxers, and as I leaned
close to him I got that amazing scent of fresh soap
from his body overlain with a faint whiff of dried
piss from the fabric of his boxers, and then that
"something", that special smell of a man's crotch.  I
suppose it was the first time I'd really smelled it,
and it was at once both terrifying and exotic.


"Kiss it, Steve.  Tease me into life", the boss
whispered, reinforcing these commands by holding my
head close to him as I knelt there.  His dick was
flopping against the front of his boxers, but as I
bent forward in fascinated horror, pursed my lips and
touched them to his cock head. (he was circumcised, as
I guess most guys his age were  as he belonged to that
generation where this was a routine thing done to all
new-born males).  His cock gave a little twitch and
began to inflate with blood, and the boss's hands
moved my head up and down as he continued to give me
instructions... "That's a good boy.. Kiss it again,
Steve... Worship your owner's cock, Steve.... Now I
want to feel your tongue massaging the head... Now the
shaft..... Good boy, Steve.....!

He was fully erect by now, or what passes for it in an
older guy as his cock head was not exactly "reaching
for the sky" as mine did, rising well up towards my
navel.  No, his cock was rigid, but still kind of
drooping down.  "Right, Steve", he intoned, "Now be a
good boy, and pleasure me properly.  Suck my cock,
boy, take your owner's cock right down your throat and
pleasure me...."

I began to gag and choke as the boss's hands pushed my
head down onto his cock, and in an effort to steady
myself I wrapped my arms around him, feeling his butt
in my hands.  My nose was assailed now by the scent of
him, and I found myself sucking greedily at his cock -
not so much because I wanted to, but because as my
lips and tongue teased the head, he was less inclined
to force more of it into me.  He began thrusting at me
- I could feel his butt tensing as he moved forward
and back, and then he gave a moan, and cried "Oh
yes....."

My mouth filled with a salty taste, and at first I
didn't realise what had happened, until it occurred to
me, to my horror, that he must have shot his load into
my mouth.  The boss was swaying slightly on his feet
now and his hands let go of my head.  I pulled away
from him, still kneeling there, and saw the remains of
his cum start to dribble from his cock.   I felt
almost nauseous as my tongue rolled the slimy mess of
his cum around my mouth.

Without hesitating the boss grabbed my hair again and
pulled my face back into his crotch, so my cheeks
rubbed against his cock, and my nose filled with that
oh so familiar ammoniacal scent as the remains of his
semen rubbed off on to me.    "Good boy, Steve!  There
now, that wasn't so bad, was it?  Now if you'd been a
good boy and done as you were told, all this hurt and
anger could have been avoided.", he chided me almost
gently.

I still knelt there, sweating, and analysing the
strange taste in my mouth.  Well, not a taste, really
- more a viscous sort of sliminess that filled me
totally.  I hung my head in shame - not just because I
knew it wasn't right to have to pleasure the boss like
this, but because what he'd said was true:  I could
have avoided having Jeff hurt if my own silly pride
had not prevented me from obeying the boss's orders.
I had, after all, now done what he'd ordered in the
first place, so what exactly had been the point of it
all?

The boss ordered Jeff and me to bed then, and we lay
side by side, but on our bellies as our butts were too
sore to lie on.  After his sex, the boss soon drifted
into sleep and we heard him snoring gently.  I turned
my face towards Jeff's, which was resting on his
folded arms, and put an arm across his shoulders.

"Jeff, I'm sorry...."

"It's OK, Steve...."

"No it isn't!  I got you punished... . It's not right
that the boss beat you like that.... It's my fault,
and I wish...."

"Steve, don't talk like that!  That way will only lead
to more punishment.   It is right that the boss beat
me - I was arguing with him, trying to get him to
change his orders - a slave needs to know where he is
with his owner, Steve, and perhaps I'd forgotten it.
Perhaps I have been getting a bit 'uppity' recently,
and perhaps the boss does need to re-exert his
authority... It's better in the long run,  Steve, for
a slave to obey his owner unquestioningly - that way
the slave has no problems at all."

"Jeff, don't talk like that!  We're men, Jeff - we
have minds of our own...."

"No, Steve.  We're slaves.  You still haven't learned,
have you, buddy, that the rules are different for us?
I mean, did you ever fuck in public before?  Did you
ever go around naked in front of other people?  Did
you ever lie next to one of your buddies in bed before
like this, naked?"

"No..."

"Well there you are, then.  Most of those things would
be illegal, or wrong, or both,  if you were a man.
But you've done them as a slave, Steve, and surely
it's only a small additional effort to learn to do
exactly as the boss says all the time?"

"Jeff, it's not right!  A man shouldn't have to be a
slave like this....  All this slavery stuff is really
evil.... You and I shouldn't be totally under someone
else's control - we're men...."

"Well it's too late for that, Steve!  You and I are
slaves, that's the law, and so we'd better learn to
obey the rules."

"But I feel so guilty about getting you punished...
You're in real pain, aren't you?"

In the light filtering in to the room I could see a
small smile spread over Jeff's face.  "Yes, my butt's
in agony - but so's yours, I reckon!   But I've been
beaten before by the boss - and at slave training
school:  at least you didn't go through that! So don't
worry about it, it doesn't matter."

"Jeff, I'm sorry...."

"And I said it didn't matter...."  As he said this, to
my astonishment Jeff pushed his head towards mine, and
planted a gentle kiss on my lips.

For a few moments  I was so astonished that I didn't
know what to do, how to react.  So I did nothing, and
then the fleeting touch of Jeff's lips on mine went
away.  I went to say something to Jeff, but he put a
finger to his lips in warning, as we could hear the
boss stirring and we knew we shouldn't disturb him.
So I lay there, feeling the warmth of Jeff's body
against me, and eventually drifted into sleep.

The following morning my butt was still very, very
sore.  And the boss was clearly still displeased with
Jeff and me as when we got to the restaurant for
breakfast he told us to remain in the SUV, then came
out a few minutes later and threw us a couple of packs
of slave chow and a some bottles of water.  Jeff and I
sat there - well, stood, actually, as it was painful
to sit down - and munched away at the hard stuff and
drank the cold water in silence.  Through the windows
we could see the diners tucking in to their meals, and
I felt really envious of them;  I couldn't help
feeling the sheer injustice of being treated like this
for doing something that any guy might object to, as,
after all, most guys don't have to suck cock, do they?

I said this to Jeff, and he just shrugged. "The boss
wasn't punishing you for not sucking his cock, Steve -
but for arguing with him and disobeying him...."

"But I was arguing because he wanted me to suck cock -
it's disgusting...."

Jeff gave a little shrug, and there was a faint smile
on his face. "Oh, I don't know...."

I'd have gone on arguing with him, but at that moment
the boss came out of the restaurant, and Jeff at once
gathered up the empty cardboard cartons the slave chow
had come in (it's so hard and dry they don't even have
to spend money on plastic sealed wrapping!) and the
empty water bottles, and carried them over to the
recycling bins, and swept a few crumbs off the SUV in
the hope of pleasing the boss, I suppose.

The boss didn't speak much to us as we drove along,
either, but  later in the morning I saw Jeff starting
to look at first agitated, and then depressed, as we
drove along country roads that he evidently
recognised.  When we turned off through a pair of
imposing gates, held open for us by a slave whose duty
was clearly only to do this as he was chained to the
gateposts and clearly could not move away, I've never
seen Jeff look so terrible.  The boss noticed this,
too, and snapped "Unless you start to look a bit more
enthusiastic, I'll give you another slippering!  The
customer has a right to have you cheerful, as if you
really are enjoying it, and unless I see a radical
change in your attitude immediately, you will regret
it."

"Yes, boss", Jeff replied glumly, but he did seem to
try to put his usual cheery face on as we drew up in
front of an imposing mansion.  "Stay in the car,
Steve", the boss said.  "The customer has used Jeff
before, and has asked for him specifically."

At that moment a woman came to the door, a very
elegant woman with silvered hair swept high on her
head and wearing slinky kind of clothes that looked as
if they cost a lot of money and had been designed to
complement her small, slim frame.  She threw her arms
around the boss in greeting, and then, without any
sign of shame whatsoever, took a step towards Jeff and
reached down and gripped his dick through his shorts
as if testing him in some way.  She was laughing and
chattering to the boss as they then went up the steps
into the mansion, followed by Jeff, who really looked
unhappy about the way he'd been greeted.

It was a mild, warm morning and it got hot in the SUV.
 My butt was giving me a lot of pain, too, so I got
out and decided to stand by the SUV instead.  There
was the usual kind of activity you'd expect around a
big place like that - a couple of delivery trucks came
and went to the rear entrance, and there was a pair of
nigga gardeners wearing only white loincloths hoeing
away in the shrub borders.  I'd only been standing
there about half an hour, though, when a nigga came
down the steps and told me to follow him as the boss
wanted me:  the slave was wearing only a short tunic,
and as he bounded up the steps I could see that it was
cut so that his butt was mostly exposed if he made any
movement at all.

He led me into a big drawing room furnished mostly
with couches in white leather, and bright, modernistic
pictures on the walls.  The lady who'd met the boss
was lounging on one of these couches, and the boss was
sitting on another, and in-between them stood Jeff,
totally naked.  Well, I suppose I'd have expected
that, given that he'd been hired to stud.

"So this is the boy I saw through the windows when you
arrived!", the woman said to the boss.  "Why are you
hiding this gorgeous young man away from me?"

The boss smiled as he replied "There you have it!  He
is only a young man - his twentieth birthday is next
week - and I thought he would not be of interest
because of that."

"Oh let me be the judge of that!  He reminds me a bit
of my eldest grandson - he's tall and athletic, too."
She turned to me then and said, in the same casual
conversational tone, as if it was the most normal
thing in the world, "Take those clothes off, boy, and
come over here and let me take a closer look at you."

Fuck me!  I mean, it's bad enough having to strip
naked in front of the male owners of slaves, but I'd
kind of got used to that.  But being told to do it by
someone who herself had said that I reminded her of
her grandson was just terrible:  all those thoughts
I'd had about becoming used to this life simply flew
out of the window.  I stood there, hesitating
slightly, and I heard the boss say "Steve's still
really learning the ropes.... I'm sure you'll find
Jeff as satisfactory as he ever is...".  But when the
woman just gave a little silvery laugh, he looked
straight at me, and I knew what he wanted me to do.

Ever so reluctantly, and blushing as I did so, I
pulled the T up over my head, and heard the woman
comment "A nice flat belly there - I like those
emerging lines of muscle.  I assume you exercise
him... If you keep at it, by next year you'll have him
with a real six pack, like the older one!"

Well I hated being "observed" like that, and stood
there again, fumbling at the fastening of my shorts
and kind of hoping she might change her mind.  But the
boss must be losing his patience, as I head him say
"Come on, Steve!  Don't  keep the client
waiting......"

So what could I do?  I let my shorts drop to the floor
and stepped out of them, and then, almost in an act of
bravado, I flicked at my dick to free it from where it
was stuck with sweat to my balls.

The woman beckoned to me, and seeing the boss nod,  I
took a couple of steps over to where she was still
lounging on one of the couches.  As she reached out
for my dick I saw that her finger nails were neat and
lacquered a bright red, but at the same time saw the
dark splotches of "liver spots" on the back of her
hand, a hand that was kind of scrawny, with loose
skin.  She gripped me firmly, though, clearly used to
handling guy's dicks as she stroked me until, in spite
of desperately not wanting to, I began to bone up.
And then she teased back my 'skin, and I felt myself
blushing red with embarrassment as my moist dick head
lay there in the palm of her hand.

"Oh what a nice change!  I haven't had an uncut man
since my third husband died!", the crone exclaimed.

"You asked for Jeff though", the boss added.

"Ah yes, but I've changed my mind now I've seen this
completely delightful boy you have.  How on earth did
you ever manage to acquire him?  I know that getting
white slaves at all is difficult, and to find someone
so young, and yet so fit and virile looking..... I
assume he does perform properly, as he looks very
capable...."

The boss smiled.  "Oh yes... Well I suppose I was
lucky to be in the right place at the right time, when
he came up for sale.  And yes,  it is relatively rare
to have a white slave, but very well worth while, I
think.... A lady like you would hardly be interested
in a nigga, after all, would she?"

"...no, indeed...."

"And yes, he does perform well.  I've had him for some
months now, and he's never failed at stud.  Of course
he's still rather inexperienced, and he has that
impetuousness of youth that makes him rush at
things.... But there's a lot of enthusiasm  there...."

"Well I think I'll have him instead of the older one.
He was very satisfactory last time, but I like new
experiences.... And it's not often that such a
delicious-looking  piece of male flesh comes
along...."

The boss was still smiling, as he looked at the woman
"Well you can of course have him if you wish, but I
would just caution you.... A lady like you perhaps
needs the experience that a more mature stud like Jeff
can bring?   With Steve here the experience will not
be prolonged, if you get my meaning...."

I wondered what on earth the boss was going on about,
as, after all, what did it really matter if I shot a
bit quickly?  I know a lot of people liked to see a
"performance", but surely this elegant woman would not
be interested in that?

The woman sat there in thought, and then said "Turn
around, boy, and let me see your backside...."

Still hating to be examined like this, just as if I
was an object and not a man, I did as she said.  I
heard her tinkling laugh again then, as she asked the
boss "So was he a very bad boy to deserve those four
big stripes across those lovely cheeks?  He gets more
and more tempting by the moment - a well-hung young
man who's got a naughty streak.... What did he do?"

"Oh nothing to concern a lady like you.... It wasn't
anything to do with his abilities as a stud... Just a
little domestic matter between him and me."

She told me to turn around again, and she looked at me
once more.  "He is very beautiful....", she said to
the boss, "...and he still has that slightly innocent
look that I see in my grandson sometimes.   Yes, I've
decided.... I will have him.  But given what you said
about his speed and so on, I'll have the other one
too.  They do work together, don't they?"

"Oh yes.  Certainly they work together., the boss
added.  "And as a valued client I'll not charge more
for the pair.  It will be valuable additional
experience for Steve."

I wondered why the woman was so interested in my
performance, as, after all, what did it matter if
occasionally I got so excited by the nigga bitch I was
studding that I shot sooner, rather than later?  But
then the realisation began to dawn on me.... It wasn't
some nigga bitch she had in mind for me today.... I
was going to have to pleasure her!  I looked at the
boss, a feeling of desperation sweeping over me.  I
almost pleaded "Boss, no.....", but saw him shaking
his head as he said "Steve, go out to the SUV with
Jeff and get nailed.  No arguments, now...."

Seeing that I might start some sort of dissent that
would lead to later punishment, Jeff came over and put
his arm around my shoulder.  "Come on, Steve.... You
heard the boss...."

He led me out and down the steps to the SUV, both of
us with our dicks bobbing up and down.  The two
nearly-naked nigga gardeners waved and smiled,
obviously unused to seeing nude white guys, and Jeff
opened up the back of the SUV and dropped down the
bottom hatch to make a table.

"Jeff, we haven't got to fuck that old woman.....
Surely....?"

"Yes, Steve.  And not so much of the fucking, either:
she likes a lot of foreplay, and I mean a lot! My
tongue's really worn out after I've been with her...."

"Jeff, it's disgusting!  She's old enough to be my
grandmother... You heard her...."

"Well that's as may be, Steve.  But what are you going
to do?  Defy the boss and get punished?  This lady's a
valuable client - I've been here several times - and
if you offend her and piss off the boss, I reckon he'd
have you flogged.  Properly flogged, that is, by a
public whip master.... And he might have the same done
to me, for not taking proper charge of you."

Jeff saw me hesitating, and went on, with a new
urgency in his voice "Look, buddy, just hang in there!
 It's only a couple of hours at the most... A guy can
put up with anything for that length of time.  Just
think about some of the bitches you've enjoyed
recently as you fondle her tits and so on - I'll admit
it's a bit tough at first as they're all loose and
flabby, but you've got a lively imagination.... And
whatever you do, you don't want to lose your
erection...."

"Lose my erection?  I doubt I'll have one in the first
place!"

"Oh yes you will, Steve.  Here... Take this.... The
boss tries to make it as easy as possible for me, and
I'm sure he'd want the same for you...."

Jeff was holding out a blue pill, and as he did the
same, I swallowed it.

"That's a derivative of those things like Viagara they
used to use", he told me.  "It's quadruple strength,
and with that inside you you'll certainly get a wood,
and keep it.... And just as well, too.... With the
nail."

He was opening one of the boss's bags now, and got out
a small box, which he opened.  Inside, encased in a
protective foam template, were two shiny silver things
that looked like big nails - the head was about the
size of a cent, and the spike part perhaps three
inches long.

"Here....", Jeff said, holding one out to me.  "Here's
your nail.  Let's just stand here for a few minutes
before the drug takes effect so we're really hard
before we put them in."

"Put them in where?"

Jeff grinned.  "Oh... Up our dicks of course."  He saw
me looking incredulous, as if I thought he was joking.
 Then seeing he needed to give me more information,
went on "Look, when you fucked your girl friend, you
used condoms, right?  Why was that?"

"Well I didn't want to knock them up of course!"

"No, Steve.  If they were worried about a young guy
like you getting them pregnant, they could just have
gone on the pill, or taken the 'morning after' pill to
make sure none of your little swimmers had a chance.
Most young girls these days make the guy wear a condom
as  they don't like the thought of your juices going
up them!  It's the stupid 'cleanliness' culture we're
in - they think that a guy's cum is somehow 'unclean'.
 And I guess this lady feels the same way - look at
her house:  all  that white..... She's fanatical about
dirt, I bet, and doesn't want you and me spraying cum
over her bedroom - or her body!  But she's not a young
school or college girl, Steve - she's rich and
powerful, and I expect she doesn't like condoms either
- well, who would?  All that rolling them on, and
lubing, and all that stuff, and disposing of them
afterwards when they're full of cum... And then she
doesn't get to really feel your hot dick against her
flesh, does she?"

"I suppose not...."

"Well then, that's why they invented the nail!  We
have to get boned up, then insert it through our piss
slits and down our dicks....  It has to go all the way
in, and the little cap on the end finally rests
against your dick head.  It stops the semen getting
out...."

"But that must hurt...."

Jeff shrugged.  "Yes, it does.... You feel yourself
starting to cum, and your balls want to fire... But
there's nowhere for it all to go so you really start
to ache.  And after you've climaxed two r three times,
it's almost unbearable..."

"No... I mean pushing it down my dick!  It's so
big.... And I remember I had to have a swab at
hospital when I thought I'd caught a dose from a slut
I'd been with.... The nurse just moved one of those
cotton buds around my piss slit and I almost
screamed...."

Jeff shrugged again.  "Well we lube it up before it
goes in.  And I'll help you.  And it has to be thick,
I suppose, to act as a 'plug'.  And you'll be sore
tomorrow..."

"You bet I will!  I suppose it's painful to piss...."

"Well a bit, yes.  But it's really sore around your
dick head, as this bitch insists on the thing being
glued in!"

He saw me looking puzzled and went on "Normally the
nail stays in by itself, but the second time  I was
hear I shot so much cum that the pressure caused to
mail to move a bit, and I leaked some cum over the
bedspread - it's silk, or satin, or something, and she
screamed at me about being a disgusting coarse oaf who
was costing her thousands, as it seems that cum stains
don't come out of satin and she'd have to have the
whole room re-done...  So the next time we got here,
she told the boss that the nail had to be glued in to
me.  Fortunately that only means the end bit - a dab
of superglue under the cap and it's glued to your dick
head and can't come out.  But we need to be careful -
if you got any of the glue on the shaft, and that went
into your piss canal...."

"Superglue?"

"Yes - it sticks anything to anything.  There are all
sorts of stories about guys sticking their hands
together doing stuff around the house.... But it
certainly works in that the silver head of the nail
sticks to the skin of your dick head....   Sticks so
well that we have to pry it off afterwards, and that's
pretty painful:  to takes off the top layer of skin,
so you're all raw around your piss slit for a couple
of days... And it's really painful when you need to
go."

"Jeff, you can't be serious.... This is a joke, isn't
it?"

Jeff looked sad.  "No, Steve.  That bitch has the
power, and the money.  And we're just slaves.  And if
she wants to have a couple of virile studs like us to
play with in her bed, and if she wants to feel our
dicks up her, then that's what she gets.  What we want
has got nothing to do with it."

"No, Jeff. This is too much...."

"Steve, please.... Look, the boss told me to come out
here with you and to get ready.  If you don't he'll
punish you again, or make me punish you, and punish
me....  It's OK for you, as you don't really know what
a slippering is like... But I don't want that again.
I'm fed up of being punished and beaten, and it's one
thing if it's me who's been disobedient.... But I
don't want to have to take it for what you do or don't
do that upsets the boss...  So please, Steve.... It's
not all that bad really..."

I stood there, in an agony of indecision.  Then I
thought of how bad I'd felt yesterday at seeing Jeff
punished, and I knew there was no way out - well, not
immediately, anyway.  And, after all, how bad could it
be?  A couple of hours with an old woman.... But Jeff
would be there with me.  And although this "nailing"
sounded grim, Jeff had done it several times before by
the sound of it, and if he was tough enough to stand
it, so was I.  And another thing - that tablet Jeff
had given me must be working, as, like Jeff, I now
realised my dick was rock solid.

We stood there at the back of the SUV, two guys with
huge erections.  I looked at Jeff, and shrugged.  "OK,
buddy.... I'll trust you... Thousands wouldn't....
We'd better get started."

End Of Part Five