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Related article: Date: Wed, 10 Aug 2011 00:48:40 -0700 (PDT) From: Christian Debus Subject: "Changed Circumstances" Chapter 37 Gay Male/Authoritarian"CHANGED CIRCUMSTANCES" A Sequel to 'A Reversal of Fortune' Chapter 37This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen yearsWritten by Jean-Christophe (Chris) "To see all my stories go to groups.yahoo.com/group/SlaveNow"Chapter 37: Taken to the Water-wheel!"Well Claymore! Give me your honest assessment of the slave.""Guy! I doubt you'd find a slave more suited for your needs than this one. He'll do you proud serving as your pony. You couldn't wish for better."My Master's pride in me is clearly evident. As his hands slide over my nakedness, I sense his pride of ownership in me. And Claymore Jackson's words serve to re-enforce his satisfaction with me.For my part, I am pleased with Claymore's praise. It gives me hope. Today's inspection is a special one for me and much hangs on it. It could be life-changing for me. Should my Master be pleased with me, and judge me as ready, he might take me with him when model rancesca bikini he returns to the city and place me in service as a pony to run alongside Norge.I long for this with all my heart and with every fibre of my being.As Master continues to gauge the strength of my body, my heart pounds within my heaving chest and I am consumed by a sense of expectancy. I want to be judged as ready! And I do my best to assist my Master make his decision. I respond by once more drawing myself to my full height, flexing my muscles and posing my body so that my Master can better appreciate his property. I thrust out my chest and tighten my belly and I am very aware that my rampantly erect cock is poking upwards at an angle of forty-five degrees from the horizontal and that my balls hang low in the afternoon heat.My efforts to assist him don't go unnoticed by my Master. He smiles at turkish nude models me - and this is the first time he has ever done so - and eroric teen models tells me that I am a"Good boy!"His praise warms me and I shyly return his smile. His smile is so unexpected and I am left to wonder about it. To date our relationship has been a fraught one; he'd never shown me any kindness - quite the contrary - and I had come to dread those occasions when I was in his presence.Often, these would result in me being nude models football caned for some perceived misdemeanour. At first, I'd been deeply resentful of this treatment - even though I had reminded myself that, as a master, I too had been guilty of similar behaviour. I had no other alternative but to suffer my Master's early punishments of me but inevitably my resentment disappeared and I now accept without question his lawful right to do with me as he will.A Master's favour means everything to a true slave. Now, I bask in my Master's praise of me and this more than anything else shows how far I have progressed into my slavery.Perhaps this is to be the turning point in our master and slave relationship. As I consider this, it occurs to me young model board that I now think like the slave that I have become.Master takes my cock in one hand and my balls in his other. He gently squeezes my balls as he strokes my eager cock into even greater hardness. He is gratified with my response and tells me that I am putting on a great show and he is proud of me. Then turning to Claymore and Sir Conn he comments."Rafe presents well doesn't he? His cock is at least the equal of Norge's and the two of them running side by side should show well.... as you have already noted, Claymore.""Indeed he does, Guy! And the amazing thing is the stamina and endurance of his prick. He's able to keep it up for inordinately long periods. He has that in common with your other pony, Norge. I remember, when I drove Norge during his initial training, I was impressed with his ability to show well. Rafe is at least his equal and I think both ponies will do you proud and warrant many an admiring glance.""So tell me Claymore, do you younge teen models consider Rafe is ready for harness work. Should I be looking to take him back to the city with me?""Guy, the slave is more than ready. One has only to look at his body to see that. Look at the steady rise and fall of the chest. That speaks of his great lung capacity which adds to his ability to sustain long distance running. I always said that the slave's physiology makes him ideal for pony work"."I don't quite follow, Claymore. What do you mean about his physiology?""Well Guy, I believe a slave's human physiology makes for the perfect pony. Put simply, slaves were designed for running. Think about it for a moment. The slave is designed to walk or run in an upright position and his eyes are focused to enable him to do this. And his cardio-vascular system and his long legs are designed to carry him over great distances. His legs and feet have a unique system of flexible springs that generate and store a lot of energy and his lungs ls model underground supply oxygen to fuel that energy. He has an inbuilt cooling system in that he sweats profusely and this stops him from overheating. And even his ass has a role to play; the gluteus maximus muscles keep him in balance as he runs. Rafe has all these attributes and he'll make a great pony to team with Norge.""I'd never thought of it in those terms, Claymore. But it does make sense.""Guy, it makes perfect sense. Next time you drive naked girls modeling your pony at full gallop, don't just admire his ass. 16 models nonude Take time to study it and see how it all works. Look at the play of muscles in his back and note the working of his legs as he strides out and see how both ass cheeks keep it all in balance. Do that and you'll see a pony's true beauty? There is no more pleasing sight than to sit behind a pony and watch his body in action."Claymore's discourse obviously interests my Master. The overseer's reference to my ass strikes a responsive chord and Master instructs me to turn with my back to him. I stand quietly as, beginning at my shoulders, his hands move slowly down my back to my ass. He grasps a buttock firmly in each hand and kneads them much as a baker does when preparing dough for his bread.Then, without warning, he slips a finger into the dividing cleft of my buttocks and seeks out my anus. Deliberately, he uses his finger to excite me and I find myself readily responding to his stimulus. At the outset of my slavery, I would have been appalled by this but in the intervening six months I have adjusted my mind to many things. I no longer have a free man's pride; it has been taken from me and replaced with a slave's submission. The emotions of shame, humiliation and degradation that new masha model had once been so much in play have now dissipated and I accept my Master's right to do with me as he pleases.I feel no shame in what Master is doing to me. In fact there is a degree of pleasure in his sensual touch and I respond by wriggling my ass backwards and using my internal muscles to draw his finger deeper into me. Ah, it feels so good!I have lived a very chaste life for the past six months. Since my arrival at La Forˆt, and with few exceptions, all sexual activity has been denied me and any self-gratification has been strictly forbidden. It has to be said my needs are great and my frustration levels are high. And they have been added to by the nocturnal activities of my promiscuous brother slaves.From the safety of my security cage, I had watched and listened to the nocturnal frolics of my more fortunate stable mates. At first, I'd been horrified by top sex model the brutal treatment of the submissive slaves at the hands of their dominant fellow slaves. I had watched the cruel rape of child modeling xxx Pollux and that had coloured my perceptions. But the longer I observed their behaviour; I began to recognise many of the passive slaves weren't really victims of these nightly predations. Rather, they showed a willingness to co-operate with their more aggressive stable mates and as the nights passed, I noticed their eagerness to be fucked. And once he'd recovered from the trauma of his own rape, Pollux also became an enthusiastic participant.Because Pollux was the newest slave in the stables - I, of course, was strictly off limits - he was enthusiastically courted by the stronger slaves. Those first few nights must have been hard for Pollux. Certainly, the nights that followed his raping lacked the cell models brutality of his first night but he remained the centre of attention. He was the cause of much dissension as his abusers argued and fought over him. But by a process of elimination, the cell models strongest and ablest slave eventually won out over his rivals and now Pollux is used exclusively by him.This works in Pollux's favour; he enjoys the protection of his dominant. He is now spared the attentions of all the other slaves and I can tell that Pollux is happier. No longer is he fearful of the predatory slaves who had so cruelly abused him. Now, each night, he lies alongside his protector and sleeps peacefully in his arms. And Pollux shows his gratitude to his protector in the only way he can.Each night, he opens up his body as a token of his appreciation. And each morning, premodels childrens in the pre-dawn gloom, he kneels between his protector's widespread legs and uses his mouth as a further expression of that appreciation. He does this willingly and eagerly and during my time in the stables, I became very envious of Pollux.As I looked photo models bondage at Pollux and his benefactor, I was reminded of Norge's reminiscences of his and Jake's lovemaking in these same stables. I envied them their lovemaking as much as I now envied Pollux. This increased my feelings of isolation; I missed the tight embrace of Norge' arms around my body and the feel of his hard cock pressing against my own. I hungered for the sensation of his hands caressing petite teen modeling my ass and for the feel of his finger thrust deep inside of me as he massaged my prostate. My nights in the stables were long, lonely ones and the feverish sounds of my fellow slaves indulging in their animalistic sex frustrated me.All that was three months ago before I was moved to the stables that housed the ponies and the teams of heavy duty draft slaves. If I'd hoped for an improvement in my situation then I was doomed to disappointment. My Master's decree that I was to remain inviolate was rigidly enforced by the head groom. My days were spent in rigorous training and my nights in unfulfilled isolation. Unlike 101 teen models the other ponies and drafts, I had a stall exclusively my own. They were luckier and each shared his stall with one other.This was a humane policy of Claymore Jackson's who recognised the benefits in giving a pony the companionship and comfort of another pony. As Lucien Barrois, I was unaware that this policy operated and I doubt that gril modell I would have given it a second thought. But as the slave, Rafe I see it differently and desperately, I want to participate in Claymore's enlightened concession to the sexual needs of the slaves under his supervision. But my Master has denied me any sexual relief. Quite obviously, he has other plans for me.And to add to my frustration, Norge and Jake have spent the past two nights together in a stall next to mine. There, I had lain awake and listened to the sounds of their enthusiastic rutting. Resentment had consumed me and I felt jealousy towards Jake. How fortunate he was to have this time with my Norge!My Master arrived back at La Foret two days ago and if he follows his normal routine, he'll return to the city tomorrow. Dare I hope that he'll take me with him? Will this be my last day and night at La Foret, a place that once I had loved with such passion but which I now hate with such intensity? My time here hasn't been happy and as Master's finger continues to work my ass, I think back to my first morning at La Foret. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>That first morning I'd been awakened by my personal handler, Sir Conn. He'd used his cane to goad me out cage and he had established his authority over me by giving me a token taste of his whip.I can't describe the misery I felt that first morning. Overnight, I had watched as Pollux was raped repeatedly and the brutality of my fellow slaves frightened me. Given the 12yo teens model opportunity, I worried about how they would treat me, their former master, should I find myself alone with them without the protection of an overseer.My new brand - received the previous afternoon - throbbed with an intensity of pain that can't be described by mere words and the heavy iron collar around my neck weighed me down emotionally. The realisation that my true slavery ls model underground was to begin in earnest today added to the 13yo nude models sense of hopelessness that I felt.Sir Conn separated me from the other slaves as they were driven to the "pits" to attend to the calls of nature before they were fed and watered and driven out to their day's labours. I was thankful for this isolation but shamed by Sir Conn's order."OK, dumbass! Squat! Piss and shit! And be quick about it!"The imperious tone of his command left no doubt in my mind bikini model desktop that he was in charge of me and having just felt his whip on my back, I fastened to obey.I did manage to empty my bladder but ukraine child models the complete lack of privacy, froze my bowels to the extent that I couldn't defecate. Even Sir Conn's growing impatience with my inability to 101 teen models oblige and the sharp crack of his whip above my crouching body proved to be non-laxative. Ordered to my feet, Sir Conn issued me with my morning food and water rations which were to be hastily consumed before he took me to toil on a water-wheel that supplied the spacious gardens and its numerous fountains with a never ending supply of water.As we entered into the gardens I was overwhelmed with emotion and tears clouded my vision. They had been an integral part of my life and I had loved them with a passion. I had played here as the boy Lucien, and as Lucien, the man I had strolled their network of leafy tunnelled paths. They had uplifted my spirits with their serenity and in times of trouble their peaceful calm had soothed me.These gardens are a living testimony to my grandmother and Lucien Barrois had continued with her legacy. They were Lucien's pride and joy and he had wasted neither money nor labour in maintaining them. He'd employed a small army of slaves who toiled in them from dawn to dusk and as I, Rafe approached, I saw those same slaves bent to their labours under the whips of the black overseers that he'd placed over them.It had topmodel pretee always seemed to me that the gardens are a world unto themselves; a place of great beauty and peace. From within, it isn't possible to see beyond the thick bank of trees and shrubs that surround their perimeter. These trees screen out the slave stables and their ancillary buildings amateur female models and, apart from the garden slaves, the sordid nature of slavery never intrudes itself into its leafy tranquillity. And by the clever designs of my distant de Barrois ancestor, the gardens give the fortunate occupants of La Foret's stately mansion immunity from the ugliness of the slavery that surrounds them.It was very early and the sun was barely above the eastern horizon. Undoubtedly, the new owner of La Foret and his son were still asleep within the soft luxury of their beds while outside their slaves toiled on their behalf.The air was cool but already it hinted at the day's coming heat and so the slaves weren't sweating as yet. The lawns, moist from their overnight watering, were damp underfoot and the air was scented with the heady perfume of numerous flowers and plants. And moving majestically through the gardens was the muster of peacocks that had delighted my grandmother with their blue-green iridescence and exotic displays of tail feathers.The early morning stillness was broken by the noisy chattering, squabbling and melodious trilling of birds stirring in the tree tops; by the stentorian breathing of the toiling slaves and the ever demanding exhortations of their overseers or the occasional crack of a whip urging them to greater effort.As Sir Conn led me to my work station, which is situated on the far side of the gardens and is discreetly hidden out of sight from the mansion, I was aware of the slaves glancing forum ls models furtively at me. Obviously, they recognised me; no doubt they'd been made aware of my arrival yesterday by that unique and secretive system of communication that operates within all large bodies of slaves who are denied all knowledge of the outside world and don't have access to the daily happens of their masters.However these slaves knew me and their eyes showed their emotions. Some were hostile and full of hate for their former Master; others showed their delight at my downfall and openly smirked as I was led naked, collared and branded - as they were - to begin my daily labours.Foolishly, one young slave straightened up and gazed brazenly at me; his eyes mirrored his pent-up resentment of his fate. Instantly, an overseer's whip wrapped itself sinuously around the slave's naked torso and his shrill cry of pain sounded throughout the gardens echoing back from the tree tops and stilling the birdsong.Of course, I know the gardens intimately; and I was well aware of the massive water wheel that takes water from a deep channel that delivers water from the far distant river into the reservoir adjacent to the gardens. The reservoir supplies water to the reticulated watering system and the ornamental fountains that were a feature of my grandmother's lavish - and expensive - refurbishing of the gardens top sex model just after her marriage to my grandfather.The gardens are watered overnight and each day the water used must be replaced by lifting water from the channel into the reservoir ensuring there is always an unfailing supply of the life-giving liquid available to the thirsty gardens. The water-wheel does the lifting and I am now to labour on it and supply the energy that keeps it operating.Like my grandfather before me, I had always seen the water- wheel as a necessary component in the gardens design and I had insisted that the wheel be maintained in peak working order. It could be said that grandfather and I had shown more concern for the wheel itself and scant regard to the unfortunate slaves who powered it.As a boy - and later as a pubescent youth - I used to delight in strolling over to this side of the gardens and to sit under a shady tree watching as some wretched slave laboured on the wheel. It had never occurred to me that the wheel was an instrument of torture. Instead, I saw it as a thing of beauty and a melding of ancient technology with brute, physical energy. There was something almost primeval in watching little hannah model as the slave kept the wheel turning by the sheer weight of his body. How I loved the play of raw, muscular strength straining under a glistening coating of sweat and it was here that I discovered the sight and smell of a slave's labour induced sweat acted as a powerful aphrodisiac. It never failed to stimulate me and my cock was always erect with iron bar rigidity.It was always thrilling to watch a slave's re- action when, chained to the wheel and walking in a never ending circle, the whip was applied to his back or ass. Naturally, this would cause him to increase the speed of his steps. Vainly, he would thrust his body forward in an involuntary attempt to outrun the whip. His efforts to do so always caused me to chuckle. This vision of slaves working on the water-wheel always raised me to erotic levels and invariably I would adjourn to the seclusion of child modeling xxx the nearby shrubbery and indulge myself in prolonged, masturbatory pleasure.That first day, as Sir Conn led me to the wheel, those memories came flooding back. However, I had no desire to masturbate; the thought of the wheel, its heavy bulk and the knowledge of what will be demanded of me proved deflationary.But, before he started me on the wheel, Sir Conn had an unexpected chore for me to perform. He led me into the same shrubbery where once I had masturbated to the creaking of the wheel, the laboured breathing of the slave who provided its motive power and the sound of a whip falling on his exposed, naked body.There, he told me to stop and safe from the prying eyes of the other slaves and their supervisors, he undressed. I watched in bemusement as Sir Conn tugged his shirt up over his head and hung it on a nearby branch. Stripped to the waist, he deliberately flexed his burgeoning muscles and posed his impressive body in the manner that teenagers do to impress their friends. Although I am no longer a teenager, I was nonetheless impressed by his display. Barely eighteen, he has the physique of an Adonis and a Black Adonis at that. Broad of shoulder and barrel chested, I couldn't take my eyes away from him and gazed with slack-mouthed wonder at his youthful beauty. He looked at me and asked."What you looking at, dumbass? Do you like what you see?"What should I do? Should I answer him? And if so - what do I say?This young overseer was my superior and I must treat him with the respect due to all free persons irrespective of age or sex. How could I - a lowly slave - presume to tell him that I liked what I saw?Impatiently, he moved forward and slapped my face."I asked you a question, white boy. Answer me when I ask you something. I'll ask you again. Do you like what you see?"The left side of my face stung from his slap and not wishing for a repeat I answered his question."Yes Sir! I very much like what I see.""You wanna see more dumbass?""Yes Sir!"My answer was loud and concise as it should be when answering a superior, free man. In reality, I did want to see forum ls models more of this youth who was to be my constant companion and de facto master for the duration of my stay at La Forˆt.Sir Conn kept his eyes fixedly on my face as he slowly 16 models nonude slide his denim shorts down over his hips and let them fall around his ankles before stepping out of them. He paused and stood semi naked before me. In my confusion, I was aware that he wore tight, bikini briefs whose glaring whiteness contrasted with the rich mahogany colour of his flawless skin. The briefs hid very little and suggested much. My eyes roamed down to the prominent bulge in his groin and I could clearly see the outline of his cock and balls bunched up in the tight confines of his undergarment.Suddenly, I became apprehensive. Why was Sir Conn doing this? Did he intend to fuck me? But my Master had said that wasn't to happen and that my ass was out-of-bounds. Surely the apprentice overseer was aware of his employer's restriction. He wouldn't dare - would he?We were alone in an isolated spot and the likelihood of us being interrupted was remote. Visions of 101 teen models last night's raping of Pollux raced through my mind and fearfully I wondered if this was to be my fate. As a slave, I was helpless to protest against Sir Conn unauthorised use me. I was defenceless against him and would have to submit.I watched the steady rise and fall of his accelerated breathing and the nervous fluttering of his well- defined abdominal muscles. Obviously my own nakedness was arousing Sir Conn. I could see the steady swelling of his cock struggling against the restricting fabric of his briefs and I watched as his cock head broke free of its confinement and peeped out over the top of his waistband.Then in one quick and deft movement, he removed this last remaining garment and Sir Conn stood before me in all his youthful nakedness. Released from its prison, his cock pointed rigidly in my direction and his balls hung free.I had never seen a naked black man before that day but I had heard that they are prodigiously well- endowed and Sir Conn was living proof of this. His cock could best be described as massively thick and long. I'd always prided myself that I had been top sex model fortuitously blessed and I was proud of my own endowment. And over the years I had taken my pleasure with many slaves - all white -who, without exception, were well hung. It had been a pre-requisite of the former Lucien Barrois that his slaves possessed large cocks and heavy balls. But that day, Sir Conn outshone us all!I stood entranced by Sir Conn's physical beauty and the size of his genitals overwhelmed me.In the past, as Lucien, I'd paid very little attention to La Forˆt's black overseers. All my contacts with them were through the head overseer, Claymore Jackson and so my interaction with them was minimal. I knew they harboured ideas of their superiority over the white race but this had never overly concerned me. They were welcome to think that as long as it didn't affect their effectiveness in managing my slaves. The idea that they considered themselves superior to me, Lucien Barrois was ludicrous and I would never have tolerated any open expressions that suggested they were.The idea that a black man was teen model foot Lucien's superior was laughable. After all weren't they the descendants of the black people teen models hussyfan young models kdz brought here to work as slaves for the white man? And now, as the descendants of those emancipated black slaves, they still work for the white man and yet they presume that they are superior to their employers. Ridiculous!Yet, that morning, I looked at Sir Conn's nakedness through Rafe, the slave's eyes. Sir Conn's commanding physical presence overwhelmed my inferior, white slave status and I saw the black man in a new light. In one area, at least, this young, black overseer was my superior.Sir Conn moved towards me and I took a step back to keep the distance between us."Stand still, boy! Display!"Instinctively, I obeyed him. I placed my hands behind my head and moved my feet apart and stood ready for his inspection. I had been a slave long enough to understand the instruction to 'display' was a precursor to an examination."That's better, dumbass! You do as I tell you and we'll get along just fine. Now as we are going to be working together, I think we should get to know one another better. What you think, boy? Would you like that?"Really I have no other option but to answer."Yes sir! I would like that very much sir!""Good then, let's get started."I stood placidly as Sir Conn slid his hands down turkish nude models over my body gauging its hardness and assessing its strength. I shivered and he played with my nipples and I gave a loud yelp as he cruelly twisted them and deliberately pulled them away from my body.I felt shame as he stroked my unresponsive cock and hefted my balls and I was embarrassed by his comment."Hmm! They're not bad for a white boy! I've seen worse."I responded to his order to turn around and present my back to him. I trembled as he cradled an ass- cheek in each hand and squeezed them in a test of their firmness. However, I baulked when he teen models hussyfan told me gril modell to drop to the ground on my hands and knees. With my back to him, I couldn't see his anger but I heard the 'swish' of his whip just seconds before I felt the pain of it across my back."I gave you an order, boy. Do it!"Now chastened, I obeyed and dropped to the ground. Suddenly, and despite my customary nakedness, I felt very exposed.I was acutely aware that my balls hung suspended between my widely spaced thighs and that my sphincter was obscenely exposed to his view. I could feel its contractions with each nervous beat of my cell models heart. What is he going to do to me? I prepared myself for the worst 12yo teens model and waited fearfully for him to enter me. I was sure that Sir bikini model winking Conn was about to rape me.Then, I felt his finger tracing a path from my balls along the perineum to my ass-hole. There it paused and slowly teased me. Tantalisingly, he excited the sensitive tissue around my opening raising my cock to a level of expectation I could no longer amateur female models fight. Helplessly, I responded to his ministrations and nervously I waited for his next move. But that was as far as he took me. With a dismissive slap to my ass, Sir Conn ordered to kneel before him. Hastily, I scrambled onto my knees and faced him.My relief must have been all too obvious. Sir Conn laughed at me."What's the matter, boy? You thought I was going to fuck you? Rest easy! You got a cute model bikini professional white ass, boy, but it belongs to your Master. He'll be the first to use it."Sir Conn stood just inches from me and his cock, now semi-flaccid, rested in line with my face. showstars teen models I recall that I was fascinated by its shiny black meatiness and I took time to study it. And I was impressed. But Sir Conn had plans for it. He ordered me to."Open your mouth boy! Open I said! WIDE!"His intent was obvious. I was to service his cock with my mouth. Its enormous girth and length were daunting; surely, my mouth and throat were too small for such an undertaking. Impatiently, Sir Conn looped his whip around my neck and jerked my head into his groin."I said ... open up! Take my cock in your mouth."I was a recent convert to oral sex. In my previous life, I had been a recipient of its undoubted pleasures but I was never a giver. But that changed when I became 16 models nonude a slave. I was first introduced to it when my Master ordered me to use my mouth to service the cocks of three of my former school friends and my former lawyer, Simon Barrow.This had happened at a cocktail party at my Master's townhouse held to introduce him and his grandmother to their new neighbours. I had been repulsed by this and yet as a slave I had no recourse other than obedience to my Master's order. I recalled that night with shame and revulsion. Yet it could have been 12yo teens model infinitely worse for me.My mouth had been offered as a prize in a guessing contest ls model underground at the slave-dealer, Lionel Schuster's establishment the day my Master sold Cato and had me valued. By subterfuge, the slaver had won the contest and I recall my feelings of utter helplessness and horror at the prospect of taking the elderly and decrepit slaver's filthy cock into younge teen models my pristine mouth. Fortunately, and to the slave-dealer's chagrin, my Master denied him his 'prize'.Despite, the degradation and shame I felt, the taking of those four cocks into my mouth in quick succession broke the ice for me. After that imgboards models I never hesitated preteeen nn models to express my growing love for Norge through the use of oral sex. It was mutually pleasurable and Norge allowed me to hone my skills on him. Norge proved to be a good instructor; whenever he felt I lacked something'he would tell me how to improve my techniques. Under Norge's tutelage, I became very good at sucking cock.As I looked hesitantly at Sir Conn, it wasn't my ability to satisfy him that worried me. Rather it was my ability to take his massive, thickly veined organ into my mouth and throat.But Sir Conn wasn't to be denied. He cuffed my head and ordered me to take his cock into my mouth.I battled during those first few moments; the bulbous cockhead filled my mouth and my throat muscles closed up in an attempt to stop any further intrusion. Impatiently, Sir Conn grabbed hold of my ears and slammed into me. He ignored my gagging and my spluttering and through my struggling panic I heard him tell me to relax and breath through my nose. Mercifully, he paused with his thrusting long enough to allow me to settle into a pattern of deep rhythmic, nasal breathing. With each breathe, my panic subsided and the muscles of my throat relaxed enough to allow me to swallow his cock into its depths.Dutifully, I applied myself to giving Sir Conn the pleasure he demanded of me. I drew on my experiences with Norge and worked hard to please my young overseer. And I had to admit to myself that it felt good. Very Good! I knew it was pleasurable for me and I hoped it was proving so for him.And it was soon obvious that I teen model foot was pleasing him. I felt the tightening of Sir Conn's body, the arching of his back and the clenching of his ass as he continued to thrust into me. I listened to his soft moans of pleasure and noted his rising passion. My bobbing head kept time with the to and fro thrusts of his hips and we were lost to all around us. Temporarily, I forgot that I was a slave and he was my handler. Then, I began to feel the first small bursts of his impending ejaculation and to taste the sweetness of his essence.With our rising ardour, we quickened our pace. Simultaneously, my mouth siphoned and my throat muscles massaged his cock; stimulating and coaxing it into a ls model underground final, climactic eruption. Once more, I felt the arching of his back and the tight clenching of his buttocks; my ears rang from his loud, exultant cry as the floodgates of his passion opened to overwhelm me. Wave after wave filled my mouth to overflowing and in my eagerness to please him I swallowed hard. I owed it to him not to allow one drop of his precious semen to spill on the ground.I waited patiently as his cock wilted in my mouth and for our laboured breathing to subside. I looked up into his face and I was rewarded with a pat on the head. I saw the beads of sweat trickling down his chest and over his belly and I found the heady scent of his perspiration intoxicating.As we waited, I was swamped with a strange emotion. Here I was kneeling at the feet of this young, black Adonis as a naked, white slave. My Master had given him jurisdiction over me and it felt right for me to be at his feet. It was an epiphany for me; another step of the journey into my life of servitude. Spontaneously, I leant forward and kissed his feet and by doing so I acknowledged I was a slave and I submitted myself to his oversight and discipline of me. Then, I expressed my heartfelt gratitude to him."Thank you Sir!" The words were simple but spoken with true meaning."Why are you thanking me boy?""For honouring me, Sir. By using me for your pleasure, Sir!"Well, I've gotta say it to you, dumbass! You're one helluva great cocksucker for a white boy. But it's time elite nn models to get you to work. It's time to get that water-wheel turning. GETUP ON YOUR FEET BOY. NOW!" gothic models nude >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>What happened that morning soon became sexi modells girls routine for us. Each morning, as Sir Conn delivered me to my place of work, he'd pause in some secluded spot and order me to my knees and eagerly I would take his cock into the warm, moist embrace of my mouth.These events became important to me. They were rare moments of pleasure in the dull dreariness of my existence. Each night, as I rested in the safety of my security cage, I fell asleep with the thought of what awaited me in the morning. They helped to ease my frustration and to settle me and even though I hated the drudgery of my life as a slave, these brief moments of intimacy gave me something to look forward to.As time bel ami model passed, Sir Conn would sometimes relax and 13yo nude models display something akin to kindness towards me.Disparagingly, he still called me 'dumbass" but he'd often initiate a conversation in which he questioned me about my former life. This seemed to be of interest to him. And I always answered truthfully and held nothing back. At other times, as I knelt at his feet, he would stroke by body with something akin to affection.True, it was the same type of affection that a free man feels towards a faithful, dumb animal but it was the only kindness shown to me by an overseer at xxxsex model indonesia la Forˆt. It was akin to a crust of bread thrown from a master's table to his loyal dog. It was a crumb thrown at my feet and one which I scrambled for with gratitude to Sir Conn.But these moments were all too brief. Once finished, Sir Conn would order me to my feet and put me to work. There, we became overseer and slave and should I displease him I would feel the cut of his whip on my back. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Suddenly, my Master's voice cuts through my reverie and I am drawn back to the here and now.My Master continues to excite me and he is amused by my shuddering response to his stimulation. He strokes my cock naked girls modeling with one hand and uses a finger of the other to test my virginity"Steady on there, Rafe! You're becoming a bit too excited for your own good."I hear Claymore and Sir Conn laughing in the background."From the feel of him, the slave is very tight" My Master comments. "Obviously, my orders were followed? He has never been fucked?""Guy, Rafe has never been violated. Your orders were followed to the letter of the law. He's as chaste as the driven snow. Isn't that right, Conn?""That's right, Sir!Sir Conn's answer is concise and leaves much unsaid.Master leans closer to me and whispers in my ear."Well boy! That's a situation we'll have to correct, isn't it? I'll attend to that just as soon as I get you back to the city."To be continued..........
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