BACK TO THE SLAVE AUCTION
As we sped through the countryside in the back of the pickup, Mitch, Dave, Jim and I had a chance to talk about our three months on the road gang. We had certainly all changed – Mitch, Dave and I had been in good shape before we started because of our past lives, but our muscles had taken on a new, lean, stringy texture because of the incessant hard work. And young Dave, who had been very much the typical young guy who had never looked after himself particularly well, had filled out too, and now had a body he could be proud of. We were, of course, all tanned a deep brown all over because of working naked in the sun for all those weeks.
There had been other changes in us, too. When we first joined The Arkansas Programme, we had been ashamed of our bodies and humiliated by the need to appear naked in front of the buyers and guards. But now, after three months when we had had not a scrap of clothing at all, we were perfectly used to nudity in public and it didn’t feel at all strange to work and sleep totally nude. And, of course, we had all got used to having erections in public: even guys who appear naked in front of others occasionally, in the locker room at the gym for example, don’t experience this. Although I had often looked at the other guys in the communal showers (not because I am gay, but because it’s natural for guys to compare themselves with their fellows – it’s part of being a competitive male!), I had never really seen another erect cock except in porno movies and magazines. But living a communal life totally in the nude, there was no way of avoiding seeing other guys’ erections, and, of course, of having them see mine.
The totally nude communal life had also had another effect on us – except for Mitch, who had lived in Marine barracks, we hadn’t been used to pissing, crapping and sleeping in the same room as a lot of other men. Now it simply didn’t occur to me to be in any way shy or embarrassed about pissing in front of other men, or of crouching down over the crap holes with other guys on either side of me. And, of course, I was used to the constant snoring, farting, and little moans and cries that the other guys made in the communal bunk room as we tried to snatch a few hours precious sleep before the next day’s arduous toil.
When we arrived at the Auction Centre there were already six other experienced slaves like us waiting, and another l0 new slaves. It was really interesting to see the differences between us: the l0 of us who were coming back to be re-auctioned were muscular, fit, tanned, and completely at ease with our nakedness. The l0 new slaves, here for the first time, were pale, flabby in places, and standing around trying to cover their genitals with their cupped hands.
The l0 of us who were to be re-auctioned were taken into the communal shower room, and the guards came around with the special little tool that unlocked the semi-circular hoop holding our cock bars, which they then pulled out of our cocks. The guards said that slaves used to be auctioned properly ringed, but that some potential customers had complained that they couldn’t get the feel of a slave’s cock properly with the bar in place, so the easiest way was to have all of us “au naturel” for the inspection. Our cock bars would then be re-fitted after the auction, before our new owners collected us. The rings in our noses were kept in though, as a guard told me that potential owners rarely wanted to feel a slave’s nose!
The guards then proceeded to give us an enema. We were all made to kneel down in a line, and told to press our shoulders to the floor to expose our asses fully. Then the guards came along and, one by one, inserted a stainless-steel nozzle up our ass and turned on a flow of water. We were left kneeling there for a few minutes until it felt as if my guts were breaking, then the guards told us we could crouch down and let go. There was a terrible stench as all l0 of us voided our bowels onto the floor of the shower room, but the guards soon hosed the semi-liquid crap down one of the drains, and we were commanded to kneel down again, so the procedure could be repeated.
We were all flushed out four times, until the water forced out of us was running clean. Then the guards turned on the shower heads, and we soaped each others’ bodies and really got clean.
We then had to make pairs, and each pair was given a disposable razor so that we could shave our balls and faces. I knew how to do this properly, now, and almost instinctively knelt down on one knee so that Jim could place one foot on my thigh. This exposed his balls nicely, so I could shave them more easily. Then I stood up and shaved his face, and he in turn knelt down so that I could place one foot on his thigh so that my own balls were exposed for shaving.
Finally, we got together so that one guy knelt down and the others lay at right angles across his back in turn. Reaching behind we could then pull our ass cheeks apart, to allow our partner to shave up our ass cracks properly.
I remember the first time I had been shaved by another guy, and had shaved him, and how I had felt revulsion at the thought of a razor that had been on another man’s face and balls running over my face. But after three months of this, I now never gave it a second thought. And in my previous life I had never touched another man’s body, and now I could lie across the hot, naked back of another guy and feel his bony spine pressing against my cock and balls without having any particular thoughts of revulsion.
There was a surprise then for us – the guards directed all l0 of us into a large communal sauna as they wanted to sweat out any residual dirt that had been grained into our skin so that we would look as good as possible for the auction. I had been in a sauna before in a fancy hotel I once stayed in, and had quite liked it, although I had only been able to endure about eight minutes of the firey hot, super-humid air in there. Like all the American guys at the hotel, I had gone into that sauna in my swimming shorts, and I had been surprised when some European business men who were also staying there had joined us buck naked. They laughed at us for wearing our shorts, and told us that in Europe everyone went totally naked into a sauna – how else could our asses sweat properly, they asked!
Now of course I had no choice and I was naked in the sauna, and I saw what those Europeans had meant. The sweat streamed down me, and instead of getting soaked up in my shorts, it ran on down my belly to join the sweat pouring from my cock and groin. It actually did feel better to be naked.
We were locked in for about 20 minutes, by which time most of us were rather distressed by the heat and humidity, but when the guards unlocked the door we ran out to find the traditional end of a sanua had been given a new twist. Instead of a gentle cool-ish shower, the guards had a high-pressure pipe blasting icy cold water at us: after the heat of the sauna, it was actually invogorating initially, but they kept it up for too long so we soon were all shivering and trying to shield our bodies from the cold as best we could. The guards were all laughing to see us l0 studs crouching and dodging, trying to hide behind each other. And the icy water had that other well known effect on us – all our cocks shrivelled up and our balls retreated from our sacs up into the body cavity.
When the water was finally turned off, we all stood there gasping and palming the lose water off our bodies with our hands. We were just left there for about l0 minutes to finally dry in the air, and then the guards handed out bottles of body oil and we were ordered to rub it into each other. The guards emphasised “all over”, saying that we should be particularly make sure that our ass cracks were fully slicked, and that our cocks and sacs got a good coating. Seeing that Jim and I were both uncircumcised, they also ordered us to make sure that our foreskins were pulled back and oiled underneath, so that they would slide pleasingly if any of the buyers wanted to inspect our cock heads fully.
I have to say we looked a magnificent sight after the oiling – l0 great naked bodies, shining in the lights like so many horse chestnuts when they are freshly cracked out of their spiky outer coverings in Autumn! We stood around chatting, waiting to see what happened next, and one of the six who was from the other batch of slaves told me that he had just come back from a two-month assignment in a Sex Parlour, and was looking forward to now being sold for a “proper” heavy manual job – although he knew his muscles would ache every night from unrelentless hard work, he thought that would be better than having his anus constantly aching from being fucked. He grinned as he told me that that was what he thought we would all be sold for this time around – if we were lucky!
I asked him what he meant, and he said that although being fucked by the Sex Parlour’s customers was bad, the very worst that could happen was that you might be bought by a Pain Palace. He was about to elaborate on this, when the guards herded us through a door and out into the auction ring.
“The ring” was just that – a wooden wall about 3 feet high, enclosing a circle about 20 feet in diameter. The ring was surrounded by tiers of seats, that were occupied by the potential buyers. We were told to start running, and began to race around the outside of the ring. On and on we ran, cocks bouncing up and down, so that the potential buyers could get a good look at our bodies in action. Bright lights shone down on us, and after a few revolutions of fast running we were all sweating, with little streaks of sweat starting to appear on our oiled bodies.
We ran on an on, for about 20 minutes in all, and we could only do this because we were all in such superb physical condition. When we were allowed to stop, we were tired, though, as running makes quite different use of your muscles from the work we had been doing. We mostly stood by the walls of the ring, with our chests heaving up and down as we sucked in air following the harsh exercise. Several of the buyers left their seats to come down to the edge to get a closed look at us, and we were ordered to turn around, put our hands in the air, bend over, and do other simple things like that so that the buyers could get a proper look at all aspects of our bodies.
It was then time to be displayed properly. We left the ring, and the guards gave us a scrap of towel to wipe over our bodies to remove the excess sweat and oil. We were led into the inspection room, and saw running down the middle a set of tables, each about four feet square and with the tops consisting of a sheet of mirror glass.
The guards came along and fitted display collars to each of us – a broad leather band around our necks, fastening with a neat buckle at the front. At the back of the collar there were two straps, and we had to cross our arms behind our necks so that our wrists could be strapped to the collar. The collar itself was about 4” wide, so the effect was to force us to hold our heads high, and with our shoulders pulled back as a result of our arms behind our heads, our pecs were forced into high relief.
Next we were told to get up onto a table and kneel, with our feet overhanging the end, and our legs were then pushed as far apart as possible by the guards and our ankles and knees strapped to the table by small straps poking up through the mirrored surface. It was somewhat uncomfortable at first to kneel with my legs wide apart, and the longer I stayed there, the worse it got as my groin muscles were put under an unusual strain. But I realised why this was being done – the mirrored surface gave potential buyers a good view of my cock, sac and ass; my chest was pushed nicely forward by the collaring; and my cock and sac were now at a very convenient height for inspection.
We had all been kneeling therefore about l0 minutes before the buyers started to come through and look us over. They were all “suits” – elegantly dressed men in well cut clothes for expensive designers, with flashes of expensive gold watches poking from under their silk shirts – clearly there was a lot of money in the slave trade! They were quite uninhibited about discussing us in front of us. just as if we were not there. Indeed, to them we appeared just to be animals, and they could have been talking about buying a prize heiffer, or a dog!
Mitch was on my left, and he and I were both being inspected closely by two buyers who were from a Sex Parlour. They admired our general physiques, and were interested particularly in my uncut cock – this was “something special” that thought they could offer their customers, as it was relatively rare to get an uncircumcised slave (all of us on The Arkansas Programme were Americans – the Government was still experimenting with this method of punishment and rehabilitation, and had not implemented it for foreign criminals yet. Therefore almost all of the slaves were circumcised, reflecting the make-up of the American population in general). One of them reached down and casually stroked my cock to make me erect, then slid my foreskin backwards and forwards appreciatively so that he could cover and reveal my cock head. They joked as they did this, and were discussing whether they could charge a premium for a night with me for the “novelty value”. But one said to the other that some customers might be put off, and worry that “disease might be lurking under there”. The other thought not, and said that he thought that the way my piss slit was just revealed whilst my cock was flacid was kind of exciting.
A second set of buyers, from anothe Sex Parlour, inspected me, and Mitch. Unlike the first set, they didn’t seem too interested in my cock, merely noting to each other that it was “adequate”. My groin and thighs were very painful by now, as I had been kneeling for over 40 minutes in the relatively painful position, but worse was to come!
These buyers hooked a finger through my nose ring and pulled my head forwards and down, until it was almost touching the glass surface of the display table. My ass of course went up in the air as my shoulders came down, and the strain on my butt and thigh muscles was indescribable. My anus was completely exposed, and then I felt the tip of a finger probing it, and forcing its way in.
I’d never had anything up my ass before, and I tried to clamp my sphincter shut to keep to the finger. But the more I pressed, the harder the finger wriggled and pushed, until it was sunk fully in me, and I could feel the guy’s palm against my ass cheek.
“He’s certainly tight – I think we have ourselves a real virgin here!”, one buyer said to the other.
“We ought to be able to get a premium price from the first customer who has the chance to deflower him – or we could offer a ‘real rape’, with a truly brutal first thrusting. It’ll be worth bidding high for this one – it’s not many survive as virgins after a time in prison – it shows how effective those new cock bars must be in stopping the prisoners fucking each other.”
I thought that they would bid for both Mitch and me, but then another man came up and started to inspect us. He was somehow ominous – he had hard eyes, and his steely fingers probed deeply into my muscles, feeling the tone, to the extent that it hurt and I gasped as he moved over my body. He cupped my balls in his hand, and rolled them around to feel their shape, again making me wince and cry out.
“Shut up!”, he commanded me. “This is nothing to what you’ll experience if I buy you for the Pain Palace!”.
He then turned his attention to Mitch, and went through the same process of probing and squeezing his body all over. Mitch didn’t cry out, as he had always seemed to be more stoical about pain. The buyer then saw Mitch’s USMC tattoo on the other arm from those we all had from The Arkansas Programme, and looked at Mitch and said
“How long were you in the Marines?”
“Sir, all my working life, Sir. From l8 until now, l0 years, Sir”.
“Excellent. At the Pain Palace we have had good experiences with Marines. Not only do you go through a lot in training, but you are specially taught to put up with conditions that the average man – even the average soldier – would find intolerable. A lot of that training and experience sticks, so our clients can subject you to harsher regimes without you fainting away!”.
He walked off, and Mitch and I just looked at each other – what was going to be in store for us?
On the other side of me was Jim, and he too had been inspected by the buyers from the Sex Parlour. But now coming down the room were a couple of buyers who basically ignored most of the nude slaves and came straight to Jim.
“Are you the guy with four kids?”, one of them asked. “Yes”.
Turning to his companion, one said to the other “Four kids by the age of 24. And the records say that another was on the way when the mother went to the Welfare for advice. They got her an abortion, and had this slave put on the Programme to stop his feckless breeding of kids they were too poor to support. Still, it means he must have strong sperm and be very fertile. Let’s see, shall we?”
With that, he reached forward and grasping Jim’s cock started to masturbate him. Like all of us, Jim had not been able to jerk off much whilst we were on the road gang, as the cock bar made wanking uncomfortable. Some slaves on the gang never wanked, but the “studs” amongst us persisted (and Jim certainly did). But even so, we usually only masturbated once every couple of days, and in my “normal” life I usually jerked off at least twice a day.
In the bunk house, lying there nude, I had seem Jim climax himself and the volume of jism he produced was impressive. But I don’t think he can have done it last night, because he was completely ready to fire, and after only a few strokes from the buyer he shot a huge load. It spurted out at great force, with four “after shocks” of almost equal force, covering the glass in front of him. He continued to kneel there, with the after-cum dribbling out of his cock as he subsided back from being erect, and his foreskin once again covered his cock head.
The buyers seemed very impressed.
“Of course it would be good to be able to have this semen analysed for viability”, one said, “but I guess we just have to take it on trust that he’s not firing blanks now! The volume is certainly impressive, and I think we should make a high bid to secure him for the Stud Farm.”
On the other side of Jim, I could see that young Dave was attracting a lot of attention, too. But I was glad that the buyer from the Pain Palace seemed to have ignored him, and only the buyers from the Sex Parlours had made a thorough inspection of him.
The guards them came through and told the buyers that the auction was about to start, and they all left to go into the auction room. The guards came along unstrapping us from the tables, and we were able to climb down, and ease the agony in our butts, thighs, and groins.
Our neck collars were kept on, and our arms kept strapped behind our heads, as the guards lined us by the door waiting to go into the auction room. They came along and wiped us over again with a scrap of towel to finally remove sweat and any semen from the inspections, and pushed us together. I was forced forwards into Mitch, and Jim was pushed into me, and our bodies were sandwiched together intimately. I could feel the warmth of Mitch’s back and butt against my chest and stomach, and the wiry hair that covered Jim was pressed into my back.
My cock was lodged in the crack between Mitch’s bubble but, and Jim’s chunky prick was pressing insistently against my own ass. None of us was erect, but we were pushed together so tightly waiting to be auctioned that there was nowhere else for our cocks to go!
We were all sweating with the tension, and my nose was picking up Mitch’s delicious man scent as my nose was against his muscular shouler. As we all shuffled slightly to try to get comfortable, I also got little whiffs of that very strong man scent that is generated from the glands around the cock and ass, as air was forced up between our naked perspiring bodies. I had never felt so naked, so vulnerable, or so close to these buddies who had become true comrades during my time of the road gang.
I whispered to Mitch “Good luck – this may be the last time we see each other. But let’s try to keep in touch – if we’re sold for the same time periods, we ought to be back here at the same auction in a couple of months”.
Jim was whispering to me “Oh man – what the hell are we in for now? A Sex Parlour, or a Stud Farm? I don’t want to be fucked all the time, but I guess being on a Stud Farm might not be too bad – I could certainly fuck a different woman every night, and even if they’re old or flabby, it would be better than having a guy’s prick up my ass all the time!”.
One by one we were led through a door, and I could hear Mitch being auctioned. There was very spirited bidding going on between two potential buyers, and he was ultimately sold for
$20,000 a month.
Then it was my turn. I was led up onto a small stage, and the auctioneer read out my slave number and my vital statistics. He reminded the audience that this was only my second auction, that I had previously been on the road gang, and that “I was thought to be a virgin”. I was expecting the buyers from the Sex Parlours who had inspected me so thoroughly to be bidding against each other, but saw a big, muscular guy who was dressed quite unlike the other buyers having a quiet word with the two sets of “suits”. This new bidder was in dirty jeans and a plaid work shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to reveal bulging muscles in his bronzed, hairy arms. He had a protective helmet, as you wear on building sites, on his head, and stout work boots. To my amazement, none of “the suits” bid, and the auctioneer was clearly pissed off when he had to knock me down to this tough guy for only $l000 a month.
I was led off, out through a door on the other side of the auction room, and a guard came up to me and pushed a cock bar through the holes in my cock, and snapped the restraining hoop around and locked it in position. I was put into a cage with some of the other slaves who hadbeen sold earlier. I could hear Jim being auctioned as I left, and he, like Mitch, was being spiritedly bid for by at least two sets of potential buyers.
The cage was on a loading bay at the back of the building, and already a large black stretch limo was drawn up. Mitch was standing by the car, and the guards had unshackled him from his neck collar and removed it, and now had his hands cuffed in conventional cuffs behind his ass. The hard-eyed man who had bid for him cam out, and the chauffeur of the limo opened the door for him. The chauffeur then popped the trunk, and Jim was made to climb in. The last I saw of the tough marine was as he curled his long, hard body up to fit in the trunk, before the lid was slammed down and the limo swept away.
I waited in the cage along with the others, until a beaten-up pickup came around. I was taken out of the cage, and led down. The guards removed my neck collar and freed my arms, and asked the buyer – the guy in the shirt and jeans – whether he wanted me cuffed with my hands in front or behind.
The buyer came up to me, looked me straight in the eyes, and said “Son, there are two ways we can do this. Either you can come unwillingly, and I will keep you chained up whilst working, and whip you if you don’t work hard enough. Or you can be grateful that you’ve been saved from one of those sex places, at least for the time being, and come to work for me willingly for a few months.”
“I picked you because you have experience of working on a building site, and our project is in trouble. The boys around here don’t want all the really hard site work, they just want to sit in the machine cabs and listen to music all the day whilst the machines do the work. But there’s a whole lot of stuff where only muscle will do – I think you’ve done this kind of work before, and now you’re obviously in great shape. Will you work willingly, in which case I’ll treat you like a normal human being, as far as the law allows?”
I told him I would work, and he told the guard I didn’t need cuffing. He then told the guard to take the cock bar out of my cock, and to remove my nose ring! The guard got his tool and released the holding hoop and pulled the bar out of my cock, but told my buyer that State law required all slaves on The Programme to have at least the nose ring in. He also reminded him that I was required to be kept nude, so that all my brands and tattoos were always visible, except that I could wear “reasonable” protective clothing when doing hazardous work.
Rubbing my wrists and savouring the freedom, I went to climb into the back of the pickup.
“No, son”, my buyer said, “You said you would work willingly, and I said I would treat you as far as possible like a regular worker. Workers ride up front. Get in”.
I got in to the passenger seat, and the naugahyde of the seat was stingingly hot against my naked things, butt and back. My buyer continued “My name’s Jeff. I’m the owner of the small construction company that has bought your slave contract for three months. I got you at a bargain price because those guys from the Sex Parlours are my sons in law, and they know they would have real grief from their wives tonight if they outbid their father in law for a slave! That’s the way we do business around here.”
“We’ll stop off on the way to the site and buy you some proper work boots, as I don’t want you to get injured. I could also buy some jock straps, as the State will allow you to wear those when doing ‘hazardous’ work on a site when your prick might get caught in machinery or something – but I don’t want you to look ridiculous. Most of the boys on the site only wear cut-offs in Summer, so if you’re totally naked you won’t be so different. But I think if you wear a jock strap it will draw attention to your ass especially, and I don’t want you to be an object of ridicule to them. You’re impressively hung, and going totally nude, except for your boots and hard hat, might make them more sympathetic to your position. But it’s up to you – what do you want to do?”
I told him that I would prefer to go totally naked – I was used to it by now, and, anyway, in the very hot humid weather, it was actually more comfortable to have my cock and balls able to sweat freely without being confined in shorts and underwear.
We drove on, and I started to look forward to my new job.
To be continued …
