Date: Sun, 17 Feb 2002 14:05:56 -0800 (PST)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: Training The Marine, Part 10

Here is part 10 of my story that you are posting in
"authoritarian" and military".  I have sent part 10 in
a separate post.  Please keep them separate and do not
amalgamate them, as I would like to keep your archive
in line with my hard files.

Pete

TRAINING THE MARINE - Part 10

By Pete Brown.  petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

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


As we flew across the country I again sent for my
Russian - I needed some distraction from the cares of
my job, as I knew I was in for a more than usually
difficult time in LA.

He was still rubbing his muscles and stretching
himself when he came in to my bedroom - even on my
777, there's not all that much space, and the slave
cages are rather small.  I supposed he must be rather
cramped after being confined for so long in one of
them that's really only designed for keeping slaves
locked away for the duration of an air journey.

But when he saw me, he still managed to smile!  And I
was pleased to see that he quickly sported an
erection, even before I had my hands on him - always a
good sign, when a slave is genuinely pleased to see
you.

Although I had simply laid there and let him fuck me
on our first encounter, this time I was in my usual
mood and was looking forward to thrusting myself up
his extremely fine-looking ass.  We started as we had
before, with passionate kissing, hugging and stroking
of each other, to get the feel of each other again and
to let our nerve endings adjust to the sensation of
the other's body.

I'm sure he thought he was going to fuck me, because
we had quite a little tussle on the bed - it's a lot
of fun, rolling over and over, grappling with your
partner, each trying to get on top of the other!  He
was so much more powerful than me - he was in peak
physical condition, and anyway had a good 4" and 30 or
so pounds on me - that he had to have let me "win" and
end up astride him.  I pushed my ass back towards his
cock, and squeezed his ribs with my knees as I rode
astride his stomach.  Actually, even strong guys are
pretty powerless  once you're on top and you push
their arms above their heads and hold them there -
they can't get enough leverage to sit up or get their
arms back into play.  It's fun for the guy on top,
too, as your cock is held between your hot bodies and
if it's erect (as mine is), you can just slide your
body a bit over his and the sensation in your cock is
amazing as it lies helpless, trapped between you!

"So, slave, you're helpless now.  And you thought you
were going to fuck me!"

"Not as helpless as you, master.  The moment you
release my arms, I will wrestle you again!"

We were actually speaking in French, as the slave had
very little English and my Russian is rudimentary as I
only have a "business" vocabulary, not ideal for the
sport we were having. I have translated here, for the
benefit of my readers who have not had the benefit of
as good an education as me.

"The wrestling was fun, slave.  But now it has to
stop.  You do know why I purchased you, don't you?"

"Yes, master, as a fuck toy."

"Quite so.  Very perceptive, slave.  You are my
current favourite toy, and now the time has come for
me to fully explore that magnificent body of yours.
Tell me first, though - you seemed very experienced in
fucking men, but your records show that you have
fathered two children...."

"Yes, master.  I was married, and had children.  But
in the Special Forces we were taught to fuck prisoners
as a quick way of getting them to 'break' under
interrogation - a lot of the Slavs and other client
races consider they are no longer men once a man has
possessed them, and break down totally."

"So you did not do it for pleasure?"

"I didn't say that, master.  We were taught to fuck
the prisoners as a duty.  But most of us found it was
indeed pleasurable to do that, and out at our remote
base - I was stationed for a time above the Arctic
Circle - there was not much other pleasure to be had.
As an officer, I naturally had the choice of my men
for those long Arctic nights."

"Ah, I see.  So you are fully experienced, and won't
squeal like a frightened virgin when my cock forces
it's way into your delicious ass hole..."

"Actually, master, no man has ever fucked me.  I was
an officer, and a top!"

I laughed, threw myself down on him so our chests were
rubbing, and kissed him again.  Clamping my mouth to
his, I continued to hold his hands above his head with
one of mine, whilst I pinched his nose tightly closed
with the other.  He was now totally dependent on me
for his breath - he could only breathe in and out via
my mouth, and I quickly established the pattern of
breathing in though my nose, exhaling through my
mouth, breathing in through my mouth and exhaling
through my nose, and so on.

I hugely enjoy the feeling of total dominance this
gives me over the man underneath - he's totally in my
power.  I have the whole of his warn, naked body
underneath me.  My leg, jammed between his forces our
cocks together, and by moving my hips I can get waves
of pleasurable sensations.  However much he struggles
he can't throw my body's weight off his, or get his
arms into any sort of position to be able to do
anything.  And as long as I hold his nose closed and
our lips together, he knows he is totally dependent on
me for oxygen.  It's amazing for the man on top to
feel the hot breath of the slave when you allow him to
breathe out into you, but for the slave the sensation
is there all the time - he only feels his master's
breath, both in and out.

After a couple of minutes, I allowed him to breathe
freely again, but kept him otherwise pinned down.  He
was gasping slightly - there's no real need, as
providing he lies still he can easily get enough
oxygen this way - but I think he knew he had been
totally subjugated and was relishing the feeling of
freedom he now had.

My face was above his, and I was looking deep into his
eyes.  He seemed to relax, and at that very moment, I
clamped his nose again and continued to make him
breathe my stale breath.

But I tired of this eventually, and wanted to get to
more serious business.

"So, slave... Now you know something that an
experienced master can do - you did actually enjoy
being totally helpless and utterly dependent on me,
didn't you?"

"Actually, yes, master."

"Good.  So now your lessons will proceed and you will
realise what you have been missing all these years - a
skilled and expert master, with a long, thick cock, to
take you hard and deep.  You are going to learn how it
feels to be fucked by an expert.  And as you are a
tough, brave ex-member of Special Forces, I know that
I do not need to restrain myself.  Even though you are
a virgin, I will fuck you with all the vigour I
usually expend on my most experienced bed companions.
I'm not even going to start with you on your belly -
we're going straight to the back fuck, as I want the
maximum length of me inside you;  I want you to
experience the full pleasure and pain of the totality
of my cock."

"I'm going to release you now", I continued, "But the
games are over.  No more wrestling, just fucking.
When I get off you, I want you to masturbate yourself,
and let the cum pool on to your belly, whilst I make
an important phone call."

I got off him, and went to check on progress on the LA
deal.  When I went back to the bed, I was surprised to
see that there was no pool of cum!

"You defy me, slave?"

"Master - you can't make a man masturbate himself just
like that.... It's not right."

"Foolish slave!  It was for your own good.  I was
going to use that cum to lubricate my entry into you.
But as you have chosen to disobey my orders, we will
do it dry!  Now, spread your legs, bend your knees,
reach down and grab your ankles, and pull them as far
towards your head as you can.  I want that ass hole of
yours fully exposed."

Somewhat less quickly than he had previously started
his sex play, the Russian obeyed.  He was fair skinned
and blond haired, so there wasn't the usual deep
contrast between the moist pinkness of his ass hole
and the surrounding tissue.  But his pucker was all
that you would want it to be - fully exposed to me,
and inviting.

Whilst it's all right in theory to talk about dry
fucking, and the additional pain that causes the
slave, it's often overlooked that it's a problem for
the master, too.  Those first few thrusts into a dry
hole are not altogether pleasant, until you get the
slave's own ass juices slicked over  your cock.  So in
spite of what I had said, I bent down and spat
liberally on to his pucker to leave a big gob of spit,
then massaged it in to his hole with my finger.
Further spitting onto my own hand allowed me to lube
my own cock to a certain extent, and then I was ready.

I knelt in front of him, and pushed on his thighs
telling him to pull his ankles harder, as I wanted his
ass ever higher in the air.  To encourage him, I gave
him a couple of sharp, hard slaps on the exposed
underside of his ass - I could see his whole body
flinch.  Then I judged him to be ready, and shuffled
my body forward so that I had to bend my ass backwards
to be able to get my massive erection in-between my
body and his hole.

I moved my ass forwards, and the tip of my cock made
contact.  I always like that first touch, as I may
have mentioned, when you first feel the warmth of the
slave against your cock head, and on this occasion I
prolonged the pleasure for myself by grasping my cock
and gently manipulating it so that the cock head
teased itself all round his hole.  Exquisite!

But enough of this, I thought, and pushed myself
forward.  The slave clearly was a virgin, because it
was really hard to get my head inside - he was
obviously totally unused to relaxing and just allowing
it to happen.  But once in, I could feel his sphincter
gripping the shaft of my cock as if in a vice.  I
looked down at the slave, and saw his eyes were
closed.

"Look at me, slave!", I commanded.  "I want to see
your eyes as I fuck you."

As I started to push myself further in, the slave
started to make those low grunts and moans that come
from deep down in the chest - I've often noticed that
even slaves with quite pleasant midrange voices seem
to descent an octave or two when making these primeval
sounds.

You know I'm not unnecessarily cruel to slaves, so
contrary to what I had said about just fucking him
hard, I did give him at least six slow, gentle thrusts
when I eased myself up and down inside him, very
slowly.  The slave's eyes were rolling, as if in a
deep passion, and he was muttering over and over a
word in Russian that I knew to be an expletive... A
lot of slaves say "yes, yes, yes... " as you're doing
his, I've noticed, and some say "fuck, fuck, fuck...",
so I suppose this Russian was in the latter category.

But after this initial "breaking in", it was time to
get down to business properly.  With no warning, I
changed my stroke and started to pound him hard,
allowing my pubic bone to crash into him.  And I did
it fast - pulling back and thrusting in again as
quickly as I could.  The slave's gentle cries turned
to shouts, with each one coinciding with the "slap"
sound as my body slammed into his and my belly hit his
ass.

He was one of the best fucks I have ever had.  Whether
it was because of his superb physique, or just because
I'd taken a real liking to him, I'll never know.  I
wanted to go on for ever, and can usually control
myself to a great extent.  But I'd hardly had fifteen
thrusts when I felt myself shooting massively inside
him.

As you do, I collapsed forwards to lie on his body,
and relished the hot warmth of him as our two
sweat-covered bodies lay together.  To my surprise, he
lowered his legs but then wrapped his arms around me -
and it was so tender.  He used just enough pressure to
make me feel he was holding me tight, but not so much
that my breathing was inhibited.  It felt so
comfortable and so right - this was surely what real
men do with each other after passionate sex,
irrespective of whether they are men or slaves.

I leaned up and kissed him, and he responded
passionately,  And I could feel his own cock now
erecting massively, trapped as it was under my belly.

He was the first to speak (this tendency to take the
lead would have to be beaten out of him in due course,
unfortunately, as it is not seemly in a slave).

"Thank you, master".  He said that with real feeling,
and I could see small tears falling from the corners
of his eyes.

"So, slave, your first fuck.  Did I hurt you?"

"Yes, master.  It was the most unusual pain I have
ever experienced.  One moment I wanted desperately to
stop, and the next moment I wanted it to go on and on.
 I never knew that such pleasure and joy was
possible."

Eventually I pulled out of him, and was pleased to see
that my slave handler had prepared him - there was no
unpleasant crap on my cock.  I thought of teaching the
slave the next step in servicing a master, and having
him clean my cock with his mouth, but instead felt
like talking and decided it could wait until I had
showered.

"So tell me more about life in the Special Forces."

"It was a real man's life, master.  You and your
comrades training, working and living together.  All
young, fit, tough and strong, serving our country.
Many men are inducted into our army, but you have to
volunteer for the Special Forces - I never wanted to
do anything else, as the rigorous training and harsh
life really let a man prove to himself and his
comrades that he is a man."

"Tell me about the sex."

"Well, master I went into the training battalion when
I was 18.  Like all young virile men, I masturbated at
least three times a day, as did all my comrades.  We
lay in our bunks at night and in the morning, beating
away, and we all knew we did it, but no one talked
about it.  I was married at 20 to a local girl near
our base, and of course I fucked her at every
opportunity, as young married men do.  It was only
when I went into the special squad that I even knew
you could fuck a man."

"And did you enjoy it?"

"Not at first.   But once I realised that a man's ass
is in so many ways better than a woman, I began to
look forward to the sessions where we were given
prisoners to practice on.  I loved the power it gave
me over the prisoners, to threaten them with being
fucked, then to show them my erect cock - and, master,
you will know that I am exceptional in this area.  And
finally, the taking of the prisoner, his cries, the
sensation as I pistoned in and out of him.  In fact, I
stopped fucking my wife, and that was probably the
start of her divorcing me."

"But you also fucked your comrades?"

"Only after we were posted to the Arctic base - you
wouldn't do that usually.  The nights were so long,
and there was nothing else to do.  The climate was
terrible, and there as nothing but frozen waste
outside the warmth of our huts - I think we got
together and fucked for companionship, and as a method
of feeling something human, faced with that desolate
wilderness.  I was a junior officer by then, and rank
has its privileges and its responsibilities - I could
take my pick of the enlisted men, but of course they
could not be allowed to fuck me.  And there were no
other brother officers at my outpost."

"You were still enjoying life in the army?"

"Oh yes.  We still trained hard, and I really enjoyed
the life.  Commanding the men was an added bonus, and
I knew that I was well thought of - I had every
prospect of promotion."

"So why did you leave?"

"Because the country ran out of money!  Half the armed
forces were stood down, and I was in the unlucky half.
 Of course I couldn't get a job, as the army training
does not fit you for most things in civilian life.  So
I tried to go into business for myself, and had to
borrow money at exorbitant rates of interest from the
local loan shark.  When I failed to pay them, the
Mafia took me, and the next thing I knew I was being
sold in a slave marked in Hong Kong."

"You seem happy enough now..."

"Well, master, compared to being in the forces in the
later days, or without a job at all, at least I am fed
and housed.  Since I was first sold, I have been
trained - if anything, the exercise programme was
harder than that we used in the Special Forces - and I
can feel the power and strength in my body again.
That was almost the worse thing about being out of the
forces - I could feel my body deteriorating day by
day, as I did not have enough food, or enough time to
keep it in perfect condition.  And I'm a happy person
generally"

His mouth had fallen into one of his broad smiles as
he said this, and I could see his perfect white teeth
glinting in the overhead lights.

"I suppose I'm lucky, actually.  I thought I was going
to be sold to a Chinese, and I'm not sure I could
stand one of those tiny men with little cocks trying
to fuck me...  I guess it was fate that brought that
specialist dealer to HK for that auction, and he saw
my potential.  And now I'm with you."

"I don't like being a slave, but I think that with you
as my master it will be a whole lot better than with
many others.  In fact, in spite of being naked all the
time, I don't actually feel like a slave - it's not
all that different from being in the forces."

"Mind you", he continued, "When I was trying to lie
all cramped up in that tiny cage, with your slave
handler reaching in to feel my cock and balls, and
having just to piss as I lay there and being hosed
down twice a day, it really did emphasise my position.
 I knew I was a slave then, as I did when that
branding iron burned your mark into my ass."

"Good, interesting.", I replied.  "I will think on
about what you have said.  Now, I'm afraid, you must
return to that cage as it's the only place for you
whilst we are on the soil of the USA.  But as soon as
we head back towards home, I will continue your
education and I promise you will find it as exciting
as the bout we have just had.

I summoned the slave handler, showered, and spent the
rest of the two hours before landing simply sitting
and thinking.  Sometimes the foolish think you're
being idle when you do that, and there's a huge
tendency for modern businessmen to be constantly busy
with meetings, presentations, reading and sending
e-mails, and making incessant phone calls.  In my
view, however, you need time to reflect and plan with
absolutely no interruptions.  Especially if you have
an intellect like mine, you need to be able to focus
it on your problems.

When I got to the LA office things were even worse
than I thought.  I'm not even certain why I was in LA
- we were contracting with the State government, and
they were in Sacramento!  Why were any of my fools of
managers in their offices in LA rather than up there
where the power and influence was?  It's not as if
this was an insubstantial piece of business - the
Californian economy is after all by itself the world's
second biggest!

I had to listen to the usual presentations about
"progress" - there had been none.  And it was mostly
excuses for why they were failing - do these idiots
not understand that I have heard it all before?

There was only one person in the room with any sign of
intelligence - a youngish guy of about 35, who almost
winced as the President of my US subsidiary turned
over each new foil.

After about 10 minutes I said "Stop this nonsense!
You have made no progress since our last video
conference, and I did not come here just to listen to
this pathetic catalogue of excuses.  Do you have
anything new to say?  Do you have any fresh ideas on
how we are going to get them to sign - from where I'm
sitting, it looks as if they might contract with the
Japanese instead!"

All the senior executives sat there in silence,
looking down at the table and fiddling with their pens
and pads.

"Well, does anyone have anything to suggest?", I
demanded.

After a pause that looked as if it was going to last
for ever, the young guy got to his feet and, looking
at me, said "Sir, I had a plan to attempt to divert
this disaster, but the Board rejected it."

There were shouts of "get out" and "We told you NO"
and "It's illegal" from some of the executives.

"Well, gentlemen, at least this young man does have a
plan, which is more than the rest of you.  You are all
dismissed."

The President said "Shall we meet again tomorrow,
sir?"

"When I said 'dismissed', I did not mean the meeting
was at an end.  I meant you are all dismissed - let go
- fired - sacked - terminated.  You have almost let
the biggest contract our corporation has ever had in
its grasp slip out of reach.  You have been almost
criminally inactive.  And you have run out of ideas.
You are useless to the corporation, and I have now let
you all go."

"What about severance pay... My contract....." One
began, but I shut him up in mid sentence.

"No severance pay. All contracts are terminated.  If
you sue, I will parade your incompetence through the
courts, and your chances of re-employment with anyone
else will be nil.  Now, all of you, get out!  Get
right out.  Leave the building immediately."

Turning to the young man, I continued "This room is
too big for a meeting of two.  Take me to your office,
and explain your solution."

He led me to his office, which was on the executive
floor.  On his door it said he was a VP - well, we
have enough of those.  I guessed he was one of the
many at the level just below executive manager, who is
desperately trying to find a way to make that last
dramatic step upwards to real power!  On his desk he
had photos - standard executive house with a couple of
big dogs in the yard, and a woman, presumably a wife,
with three children.  Standard suburban executive,
with standard suburban executive wife and kids - how
dull, and what a pity - he was actually quite
attractive.

"Cut to the chase!  I have no time for niceties.  What
do you propose to do?"

"Sir, our only hope now is bribery.  And I'm afraid
we've left it late - a few hundred thousand dollars
earlier in the contract and we could have fixed it:
there's a guy in the state's contracts admin who would
have 'lost' the Japanese contract in the files
somewhere, and his bosses would never have been any
the wiser.  Now we're going to have to play in the big
leagues, and if you want to do it, you'll have to pay
several million dollars - about ten, I would think -
to each of several senators."

"Excellent thinking!  This is exactly the solution I
had come to as I flew here.  I have been in this
situation before, and bribery is the answer.  And
don't worry about the expense - even if we have to pay
60 million in total, it will still leave us with an
extraordinary level of profits."

"But tell me", I continued, "Why didn't any of those
fools in there go along with your plan?  Surely they
could see all other avenues were hopeless?"

"Yes they could, sir, but it is of course illegal
here, and they fear the heavy jail sentences the
Californian Supreme Court would impose if they were to
be found out."

"But you don't?"

"No, sir.  You have to take risks in business, that's
my view.  And personally I would be prepared to risk
it - look, sir, I'm one of a whole raft of VPs here,
and I'm 35.  I want to be running this company by the
time I'm 40, but there's no way I could see of
achieving that - most likely, I'll be let go in the
next round of 'corporate down sizing'.  I've worked my
balls off to get this far - 16 hour days, seven days a
week.  But to get to the 'executive' level, that's not
enough - all your VPs are smart, we all work hard, and
only a very few of us are going to make it.  If it's
going to be me, I need either to have friends in very
high places, or extraordinary good luck, or both!
I'm prepared to do anything - anything - to get to the
top."

"What does your wife think about all this
extraordinary hard work and long hours?"

"We have a pact, sir.  I work, and she looks after the
house, the kids, and the social diary.  When I said
'seven days a week' I was exagerating a bit - I only
do that eight or nine times a year.  The rest of the
time I keep Saturdays mostly free for the family.  We
agreed that that's how we would work our marriage, as
she, too, wants to enjoy the finer things in life when
I finally truly make it to the top."

"And, if you don't mind me asking, do you still find
time for sex with her?  I see you have three
children...."

The man was blushing, and I thought that even now he
was going to waste it all by being impertinent, or
uncooperative.

"Yes, sir.  We have a complete marriage, shall I say.
We always make time."

"I now know you're prepared to break the
anti-corruption law to get to the top.  Tell me how
much you REALLY want to succeed."

"I would do anything - anything.  I have always wanted
to be the President and CEO of a major corporation,
and your US subsidiary is one of the Fortune 100.  I
want to run this company for you, and I would do
anything to get to the top - break the law, claw my
way over my peers, ruthlessly use the ideas of my
subordinates.  You know, kiss ass, anything..."

"Kiss ass?   Ah yes, that quaint American phrase for
being polite to your superiors.  I suppose you are
regarded as something of a cocksucker by others in the
organisation?

"Yes, sir, unfortunately I do have the reputation of
being a bit of a bastard."

"Well, on your climb to the top, would you really suck
cock?  Indeed, have you ever actually sucked cock?"

"CERTAINLY NOT, sir!  I'm a married man!"

I leaned forward, and lowered my voice.

"Well, here's the deal.  Prove to me how much you want
to get to the top, by putting aside your prejudices
and sucking a cock."

"Sir, you want me to... You want me to..... Suck you?"

"No, not me.  But I want to see you suck cock before I
will promote you - I don't like the thought of having
men working for me who have irrational prejudices.
Show me that you can, in the cause of your own
advancement and that of the company, do something that
you seem to find totally repugnant, and the prize will
be yours.  Will you do it?"

He looked at me, stunned.  But he did have  that fire
in his belly that I need in key subordinates, because
after only a moment or two he said

"Sir, yes. I'll suck as many cocks as you want, sir,
in exchange for the presidency of your US subsidiary."

"Excellent.  Call my car, as we need to go back to my
plane.  We're flying to Sacramento, and on the way,
after you have sucked a very special cock, you shall
tell me which people need to be bribed, and we will go
and do it together."

He was actually overawed by the magnificence of my
plane and the space I had for my private sitting room
and office.  But his amazement turned to complete
astonishment as we jumped the usual evening queue of
15 planes waiting for take off clearance and headed
down the runway immediately - as an experienced
traveller around the US on my business, often held at
airports, he was beginning to understand my power to
make things happen.

He did suck cock, of course - I had the Russian
brought in by the slave handler, and his eyes nearly
fell out of his head at he say this big, splendid,
naked  man standing in front of him.  He had no
experience or expertise, so in some ways it was rather
dull, but in other ways quite funny - he actually
tried to get the whole of the Russian's huge swollen
cock down his throat, and had to stop for a couple of
minutes in order to be able to get his coughing and
spluttering under control after he gagged it.

When the Russian had been taken back to his cage, I
commended him on carrying out his part of the bargain,
and congratulated him on becoming President and CEO.

"And", I continued, "When you next visit me at head
office, I will introduce you to other  pleasures of
the flesh that you have probably not so far
experienced."

"Now - about Ts & Cs : You can cut your own salary and
benefits package".

"The money is unimportant to me, but I suspect you
really want this job for the power it brings you
anyway, and the money is a secondary consideration to
you.  But in any case my most senior executives rarely
cheat on me - I can be vengeful, and I think you would
not like to be here on my private jet again, but that
time naked, being taken to the holding cage by my
slave handler!"

We spent the rest of the journey with him telling me
who was to be bribed, and planning how the money could
be transferred to them inconspicuously:  I know that
it's no use offering senior politicians suitcases full
of cash, as you now cannot dispose of it easily
without triggering reports to the IRS whenever 10,00
dollars passes through the system - and there are an
awful lot of 10,000 dollars to be processed  in a 10
million dollar bribe.  So you have to be able to go to
them with a "package" - a set of well thought our
measures for getting the money, or its equivalent in
stock options, or whatever, to them completely
inconspicuously.   He did spend three minutes on the
phone, too, telling that wife of his about his
promotion, and warning her he would not be home for a
few days!

I was intensely irritating to have to hang around
Sacramento for several days, as I really did want to
get back to my marine.  If you want to fuck a man
physically, you can just go up and ask him - sometimes
he'll say no, and sometimes he'll say yes.  But if you
want to offer him 10 million dollars as a bribe, a
simple question will always get a 'no' answer.  So you
have to approach your subject gently, first meeting
the man in his office, then taking him to dinner, then
offering him a political donation, and then, ever so
gently, pursuing the idea of transferring a large sum
to him!  I needed all my skills as a negotiator, and
needed to call in many favours just to get time to see
these people in the first place - I think that several
senators' secretaries were surprised at how many
meetings with them were cancelled at the last minute
in those few days, so freeing up their time (meetings
with people who owed me, or one of my companies,
favours).  My new CEO was a joy to work with - he had
a subtle, political mind, and a great skill at
dressing up quite outrageously unlawful acts as tiny
indiscretions!

You will be pleased to know that we succeeded, and the
contract was secured for us.  So I had two pieces of
successful business to celebrate on my way home - the
contract itself, and a CEO of my  North American
subsidiary who was a man after my own heart - clever,
subtle, political, completely unscrupulous in order to
succeed.  Even better, he was afraid of me, having
seen my power in action.

Actually, I had had time for a little private business
too.  In a lull between meetings I had flown up to
Seattle as another of my favoured dealers - who
specialised in exotics - had offerings that he said
were potentially of interest.   I will warn readers
who are themselves planning to contact slave dealers
to be just a little careful, as in the trade,
"exotics" can have two meanings.

Some lesser dealers, at the grubby end of the market,
say they deal in "exotics" when they mean the grossly
fat, the broken down old, the lame, the blind,
eunuchs, men turned into parodies of women, and all
the other dross of the slave trade that no thinking
master would ever contemplate owning:  you have to
remember that it costs to keep a slave in terms of
food, medical attention, housing, and so on.  So why
buy a piece of broken down slave flesh when you could
have a strong, hardworking young male?

My dealer of course catered for the extremely rich
with exclusive and refined tastes.  His "exotics" are
the rare prizes that only come on to the market
occasionally, and which masters delight in owning to
display to their guests.  Everyone knows that these
"exotics" cost, proportionately, far, far more than
the flesh itself is worth, and we take an almost
perverse pride in parading to others our lack of
concern for the fabulous sums these slaves cost.  It's
rather like men in America who own lavish cars,
costing hundreds of thousands of dollars - they never
really use them for their intended purpose, and the
vehicles are excessively expensive:  but everyone then
knows you can afford to lavish money that way.

The dealers first offering was a perfectly matched
pair of identical twins.  They were 20 years old, and
were in absolutely prime physical condition, as you
would expect.  I didn't bother to enquire about their
former life, as the work that had been put into them
before they were offered for sale had obliterated all
traces of it - they could have been the normal sort of
grossly overweight American teenager for all I know,
but they were now exercised into the peak of physical
perfection.  Broad shouldered, narrow waisted, bubble
butted, long fat cocked, they were a dream of young
manly perfection.   To get one such man would send
many master's heart racing, but to see two, absolutely
identical, was almost beyond belief.

The dealer offered to let me inspect them for as long
as I liked, and challenged me to find any differences
between them (offering 20% off the price if I could!).
It wasn't interesting to do this, however, as I did
not want the men (and in any case I suspected that any
tiny differences, such as a mole on one not on the
other, would have been excised in the pre-sale
preparations!).  Physically perfect and beautiful as
they are, the two slaves were obviously totally used
to each other - I supposed they had shared everything
since they were babies, and were completely at ease
with each other.  They must of course have been lovers
since they could first erect their cocks, and I have
found before that twins and brothers in general are
sometimes so engrossed with each other that they can
never properly consider the interests of other sex
partners.  I do not like it when I am fucking a slave
and I can see from the look in his eye that he is
really thinking about his brother, even if the other
slave is not in the room!

However the second offering was something I had been
after for a long time - a father and son pair!  You'd
be surprised how difficult it is to actually buy a
father and son - yes, I know I can have hundreds of
such pairs from the slave farms, but that does not
really count as the slave pups do not grow up living
with their sires - it's a purely one-off act for the
sire to cover the dam, and then he takes no further
part in rearing the pups to maturity.  No, I mean a
proper father and son - a couple where the father has
reared the son, and has seen him grow up, but where he
has not (yet!) fucked the son.

There are several reasons for his scarcity - mothers
tend to be around, so making the removal and
enslavement of either the husband or son difficult as
too many "missing persons" reports are undesirable.
Indeed, even with the current high divorce rate,
fathers and sons tend to be "visible" generally in
society, in jobs and so on, and not easy to "take".
It's relatively easy to enslave single men who fall
through the cracks in society  and are homeless, or on
alcohol or drugs, or drifting around the country idly.


There again, there is the problem of age, especially
as men are tending to breed later in life now.  I like
the slaves I am going to use personally to be at least
in their twenties (they need time to have got properly
mature muscles, and 18 and 19 year olds are still
growing, however delicious they look at first sight),
and not more than 40 as I do not want slaves older
than me in my bed.  That means that in practice you
have to find a father who sired the son when he
himself was between 15 and 17 or so, and this is
getting rarer and rarer.  And finally you have to
consider general body condition:  young Americans are
mostly in a disgraceful state, and it's only the
relatively few who take sport seriously, or who are in
the forces, who have bodies that are even worth
considering.  Add to that the need to find a father in
shape, too - with so many men doing sedentary work,
this is difficult as well.

The pair the dealer had were, however ideal.  As they
were herded onto the stage you could at once see the
family resemblance - same general features, same
general body shape, the primary difference being that
the son was, as you would expect, slightly less well
developed than his father, but a couple of inches
taller.  The dealer told me that the son was 21, and a
college football player - I could see that his general
musculature, particularly his strong legs and muscled
ass, would fit him well for that.  The father was 38
and had been, until recently, an Army sergeant.  Since
leaving the army in disgrace (he had struck a superior
officer in frustration at some particularly idiotic
order, it seems - the dealer had researched this from
old comrades, as he official record just says
"unsatisfactory conduct") they had moved several times
in quick succession.  There were no known living
relatives.

You could tell that they were newly enslaved, as it
needed two slave handlers, with electric goads, to get
them out onto the stage in front of us.  They had not
lost that look of shame at having to stand naked in
front of us - or naked in front of each other,
possibly, as I know a lot of American men never expose
themselves to their sons, and sons tend to hide
themselves from their fathers with the onset of
puberty.

I was so excited at the sight of them that I almost
made the dealer an offer there and then, but my good
judgement prevailed and I decided that I should do my
usual close inspection that I would for any expensive
slave purchase.  I had the handlers bring them down to
me, and went to examine the son first - a very
superficial examination, as I could see that he was
generally in excellent condition - but I did want to
verify that his balls were as good as they seemed to
be, hanging in their sac low behind his above average
cock.  As I went to cup the balls in my hand, the
father shouted an obscenity at me and had to be felled
by the guards with their electric goads before he
could actually strike me.  As he lay writhing on the
floor in front of me, the son broke free and knelt by
his father, trying to comfort him.  The sight of the
two good looking men, naked in front of me, showing
these signs of family loyalty was almost too erotic to
bear.

Telling the handlers to keep the father on the floor,
threatened by a goad, I had the son pulled to his feet
and decided that it would be amusing to conduct a more
intimate examination of him.  So I had a handler force
him to bend over a chair, and I probed his ass with my
finger.  He was, as I expected, a virgin - or, at
least, he appeared to be, judging by the way he
writhed as my finger went in:  he was not used to
being treated in this way.

The father continued to shout obscenities at me, and
would have gone to his son's aid had the goad not been
hovering above him.  You could tell by the way his
whole body was contorting and his muscles were all
tensing that he was in full "fight" mode, and all the
other signs of that primeval reaction were there, too
- the raised temperature, causing him to flush all
over, and the outbreak of sweat all over his body.
This was excellent sport!

"Your turn now", I said looking at the father, and
gestured for the guards to make him bend over that
same chair.

He, too, seemed to be a virgin, but the exploration of
his ass was a much more enjoyable experience - his age
and constant hard work in the Army had given him much
more muscular buttocks, and I had to order him to
reach behind with his hands and pull them apart so
that I could  gain access to his hole.  This was, of
course, only accomplished with several threats to use
the goad on him, and on his son, if he failed to
co-operate!

Finally, I decided the father needed to be humiliated
so that he could understand who was in charge here.
So I had him stand up, then told him I needed to
verify that he was fertile, and that he should
masturbate so that I could see the volume of cum he
shot!

I'm sure he had never jerked himself off in front of
other men before, and certainly did not appear to have
done so in front of his son.  He refused initially, of
course, and there was no point in threatening him with
the goad - a man cannot cum if he's screaming in agony
on the floor.  It's relatively easy in these
circumstances to have your will prevail, however, so I
looked at him and simply said

"If you are not jerking off within ten seconds, the
handlers will use their goads on your son."

That did the trick, of course, and with his head bowed
low in shame, he reached down for his cock and started
to jerk himself off.  When he had a satisfactory
erection and looked as if he was about to cum, I
commanded him to stop.  This arrogant man needed to
really understand the power that I wield, and to know
that there were deeper levels of humiliation to which
I could subject him.  So I commanded him to spread his
legs apart, then told the son to lie down, on his
back, between his father's legs so that his body and
face were in front of his father.

With his son looking up at his cock, the father then
had to continue to masturbate - and when he came, his
cum of course shot all over his son's body and face.

Rubbing the tip of my shoe over the son's chest, now
slicked with cum, I looked at the father and said

"Most satisfactory! A really good load.  I think you
two will make an excellent addition to my pleasure
slaves.  I can't wait to see how your son shoots, and,
indeed, I might even arrange a little shooting contest
between you!"

They had to use the goad then, he was so enraged.  I
wondered if I could in fact tame him at all, but as I
saw the son lying there and trying to help his father
who had been felled to fall by the side of him, I was
again overcome by the sheer eroticism of the
possibilities these two presented.  I knew that it
would be worth going to considerable efforts to do
truly train them to accept my will.

I really did not bother to argue with the dealer, and
just paid the asking price.  It's sometimes good to
show the lower orders that you do not stoop to their
level and haggle like a servant sent to a shop.   I
told the dealer to deliver them to my plane, as I
would take them home with me, rather than having them
shipped internationally using the usual methods for
the transport of living slaves.

As soon as the final bribe had been paid and the
contract was ours, I sent my new CEO back home to his
wife in one of my other corporate jets, and gladly
gave the captain of my own aircraft the order to set
off for home.

Once in the air, I paid one of my rare visits to the
slave holding area at the rear of the aircraft.  I
wanted to ensure that my handler had obeyed my orders,
and was of course not disappointed.

I have already told you that my big Russian was
somewhat cramped in the transport cage, but I have not
told you that my orders to him on receipt of the
father and son were that they were both to be caged
together!  There was just room for them, but they were
of course in the most intimate contact - this was the
first lesson they were to be taught, that they should
get used to the feel of each other's bodies.  If you
make two men lie together naked for two days, they
can't help but experience each other's smells, each
other's sweat, and the feel of each other's cock as
they erect as all men do periodically.

My transport cages also had another feature - there
was no provision for pissing (although each cage had a
water fountain on its door).  The Russian was in the
cage above them, and in order to relieve himself, he
had had no option but to allow his piss to pour down
onto the pair below.  And they were so intimately
close that they had no possibility of avoiding it -
or, indeed, their own piss as they could not move
apart or turn over.  On long flights the slave handler
would of course hose the cages down to keep everything
sweet, but I know a lot of slaves don't like to feel
piss trickling over their bodies.

It would have been good if I could have started the
training of the father and son there and then - the
tedious journey back across the world would certainly
have been enlivened by seeing them start to play some
of the games I had in mind for them.  However the
father's fury and general strength had made me
cautious, so instead I told my handler to unlock the
Russian.

He got down with that easy grace I had now seen him
exhibit several times, and immediately started a brief
program of stretching and exercising.  Truly
magnificent - a really good purchase, I thought again.

I gave him the honour of having my arm around him as I
led him forward, and we spent eight hours altogether
just enjoying each other's bodies - I even let him
fuck me again at one point!

He was back in his cage for landing, and I took an
hour or so to dictate special instructions about my
new purchases, and to deal with the more pressing
business items that had accumulated since we took off.
 I was of course seething with impatience to return to
my marine, and the jeweller had already been put on
stand by to attend to me in my chamber the moment I
returned.

End Of Part 10