Slave Ch. 03

Tattoo brushes my shoulder again, "Careful slave, you're more dangerous now than when you were panicking. You can't cum now you silly girl." She must be as on edge as I am to smell the scent of my arousal on a hot runway in a jungle.

Master gives us the signs for silence and strict obedience.

Both my voices yell at me in a discordant harmony as I calm down one more time, "Are you crazy; almost having an orgasm!"

"Concentrate on Master and you will live."

"You will know when to act on your own, until then don't think, just watch and quit daydreaming."

We are close to the hanger and its shade now. I will be glad to get out from the heat of the sun; it is beating me into the ground, I have never been this far south.

As we walk across the runway, the men begin putting on the weirdest sunglasses; they look like something out of a futuristic movie. Twenty paces or so from the line of deep shadow Master puts a pair on too. When we finally walk into the shade, I am blinded by the sudden darkness. All I can see is Master's white shirt floating in front and some small windows high above me.

There is swift movement on both sides of Tattoo and I. The bodyguards have drawn their guns and moved closer to us. The guard on my left yells out to somebody, telling him to drop his weapon. There is a long moment of silence. I can see a little better by now. I look at the bodyguard who yelled, his gun is pointing up at someone above and in front of us; his sunglasses are perfectly clear now, they must have gone from dark black to clear the second we walked into the shade.

"The bastard Frenchman's is trying to kill Master!" both my voices cry.

Everything seems to go into slow motion; the huge gun in the guard's hand bucks twice making a "phifft" noise each time. I look up to where its pointing to see wood splinters fly from the wall on both sides of a man's head on the mezzanine above us. He has a rifle at his shoulder aimed at Master. He throws his hands up to cover his ears dropping the gun. I watch as it falls slowly, end over end from the mezzanine to the cement floor in front of us. There is another "phifft" to the right of me followed by a loud scream of pain and the clatter of another rifle hitting the floor.

"Oh, my arm!" a man's voice cries out.

The gun falling from above us hits the floor at last and shoots off a volley of shots into the air when it lands. I hear the bullets hitting wood somewhere. Two of the three armed handlers behind me stop walking to stay as a rear guard while I hear the third spin on his heels to walk backwards. I feel safe, like I am walking in an armored car with guns sticking out everywhere as I follow Master. His pace doesn't change; he keeps walking toward the man sitting in the centre of the hanger with the rest of us following. Behind us the engines of the plane that are kept running to supply power to keep the slaves cool rev up a bit at the sound of the gun shots. The bodyguard to my right starts talking to his cuff like an FBI agent on TV. I even have time to wonder how naive the man we are meeting is. He might kill Master and capture Tattoo and I but the plane and the hundreds of slaves on it will have jetted away. All the bastard's men would rape me when they capture me and I would be beheaded for the gold slave collar when they are done with me. Tattoo would be raped as well but live to be sold, maybe. The whole thing doesn't make sense. The man is a fool; nobody will deal with him again.

Master is close enough to the Frenchman now to talk to him without yelling across the hanger, "Bonjour, Monsieur, I hope you will accept my apologies for my men's behavior. They do tend to act this way when guns are pointed at me.

"The person who trained your men should review his thoughts on how they should act while protecting you."

"What?" I think, "The man just tried to kill you. Why are you so polite, Master?"

"Its just business," my loud voice tells me.

"Oh."

I am very focused now; it only took a few gunshots to keep my mind from straying ever again. Time goes back to normal as the armored car I am walking in moves closer to the Frenchman. At a signal from Master, the guns are put away and everyone seems to calm a little. He stops to hand our leashes to the bodyguards then moves forward alone to meet the Frenchman with his hand out in greeting.

Master stops with his hand out just far enough away that the bastard Frenchman can't reach it as he sits like a king in the only chair in sight. The man has to stand to take Master's offered friendship or be even more insulting than he is.

With my new focus I see that business has started.

When he finally does stand I see a man who has been in the tropics too long. He must have been handsome once but now he is sweaty from too much liquor and his white suit hangs limply on his thin body and it is rumpled from the tropical heat. Master shakes his hand. While he does that he turns the Frenchman a little to the side and starts talking to him about the slave trade and the weather. Soon he has him away from the chair and Master is standing with his back to it.

A boyfriend who sold used cars taught me the trick I see Master using now. You can move some people around just by being a little too close to their personal space as you talk to them.

When Master has the Frenchman where he wants him he finishes the conversation and turns his back to him to walk over and sit in the only chair in sight. "Now to business.

"Bring the boys out for me now, please. I look forward to picking out the twenty I need from the thirty you promised to have here."

The bodyguards lead us over to beside Master at his signal so that we can kneel by him with Tattoo on his right and me on the left. They lay our leashes over the arms of the chair for Master to take into his hands when he wants.

Tattoo sets the large attaché case down between herself and Master and holds the other flat out in front of her. At the touch of a hidden button small legs snap out of the bottom so she can set the case in front of her and open it; making it a small desk with a laptop computer inside. When she is done setting herself up as Master's slave secretary she sits back on her heels with her hands behind her back and spreads her knees like me. I am almost envious; her tits are so much bigger than mine are. He rests his hands on our heads, using us as extensions of the chairs armrests. Feeling proud to have Master's hand on my head I straighten my back, pull my shoulders as far back as they will go and spread my knees even wider to better show off my pierced tits and cunt lips. I risk a glimpse at Tattoo. Master senses what I am trying to do; he lets my head turn for a second before gently forcing it back to straight ahead again. She looks so proud kneeling beside our Master with her tits out and her legs spread as wide as mine are. We both wait now, patiently, as only slaves can for the next act to open in the insane show that Master has led us. The bodyguards and the handlers are behind us

The bastard Frenchman's face is beet red with embarrassment and rage but he can't say a thing as he looks at Master sitting comfortably in his chair; it is his own fault. He was the one to make sure that there is only one chair in the hanger. He calls two of his men over to him and gives them orders. When he is done, one man runs out the back of the hanger and we hear a truck start. It roars away in a spray of gravel on the wall. The other man walks hurriedly out the front to a building across the tarmac.

Master waits patiently.

He talks to me in a quiet voice, "The bastard hasn't killed me and he is quickly losing what control he thought he had over his men. He has made a very large mistake." A finger taps my forehead, "You, my slave, are soon going to become a very important part of the show."

I wonder what he means as the truck comes back outside.

"That will be the man bringing the yellow folding chair from the guard house a mile away," Master tells me.

I start to wonder how Master can know so much about the Frenchman's island then realize just how naïve I am. Of course, Master didn't come here without knowing everything.

"Now I will be able see my shemales to be when the bastard is finally sitting."

A man runs in and opens the cheap yellow folding chair that Master told me about for the Frenchman, putting it down just a little too far away from Master. The bastard quickly sits then sees that he is to far away to be polite. I wonder if he has ever tried to be polite in his life. He can't scoot the shabby chair closer to Master so he can participate in the selection of slaves so sits where he is.

The man who walked out to the small building returns leading a line of young men on a chain behind him. The chain at their collars connects them all and their hands are locked behind their backs.

Some of the boys fight at their imprisonment as they are led out while others strut like little peacocks; waving their erections in front of them. They actually seem happy at what has happened to them.

I feel sorry for all of them. They don't know what Master has planned.

They are all incredibly pretty and are every colour from blonde, blue eyed boys to mocha, coffee and the deepest black. All of them have doe like eyes with long, soft eyelashes. Their faces have that feminine heart shaped look and they are so thin with little tight asses. Most of their cocks are so small they have to be called pee pees as they wag between their legs like that of little children. Some are a bit larger than the rest though, but they all have small balls hanging in tiny little sacks below their pee pees. A few of them must already be on hormones; they already have little titties growing on their thin chests. Other boys have erect little pee pees that wag in front of them as they strut with the chains at their necks. The little things they have won't even be a mouthful. I guess that some of their asses are not virgin too. It must lessen their value but it will be in the dossiers that Tattoo has in her attaché desk.

Master taps my forehead with a finger, "You will suck the cocks of each of the boys that I choose to take. When they cum in your mouth you will not swallow. You will turn your head to me with your mouth open to show me their cum on your tongue. Do you understand?"

I nod my head yes under Master's hand and suck the chain attached to my tongue in and out of my mouth.

"You are a good little fancy slave aren't you."

I suck my chain over my lips again while holding as still as I can to show Master how good a slave I can be. Sucking at the chain that goes from my pierced tongue over my lip and down to the stud in my chin has become my signal to Master; the only one I can give to him without being punished. I can hardly wait until Master replaces my front teeth with the gold ones he has planned for me so I can close my mouth all the way and be as perfect as he makes me.

At Master's signal, two handlers approach the line of captive boys and separate the first ten from the rest. When the shemales to be are made to stand in front of Master, it is obvious that they all realize that what is happening to them is real now. All but one of the little pee pees shrink almost into their bodies as they stand in front of the man they know is actually buying them. The first boy is leashed and brought to stand in front of Master by a handler. He stands there shivering in fright as Master looks at him and holds out his right hand waiting for Tattoo to put the proper file in it. He opens it and slowly reads the file before looking up at the boy. The frightened boy doesn't know where to look. He can't hold Master's steady gaze. His eyes dart back and forth between Tattoo and I to find no help from the strange slaves kneeling beside his possible new owner. Master puts down the file and begins to talk to the boy in his native Spanish. He gestures for the frightened young man to move closer. When the boy balks at the order the handler pushes him forward between Masters legs. The boy stumbles forward and flinches when he is touched by Master. His entire body is touched and felt like an animal at auction. His teeth are inspected and his muscle tone tested. Master turns him and has him bend over so he can spread his little boy ass and look at the tight brown hole there. When Master's strong hands turn the boy again he cups his little balls in one hand while stroking the pee pee between his thumb and first finger. Amazingly it begins to get a little bigger as Master touches it. When it is as hard as it will get the boy is urged to stand in front of me.

It is my turn to touch the captive boy now. I lean forward and suck his tiny hardon into my mouth. I wish my hands were chained in front so I can hold him but all I can use is my mouth and tongue to make him cum. His hard little pee pee doesn't even reach the back of my mouth when my nose is buried in the thin fuzz on his groin when all of it is in me. I bob my head up and down while I suck and lick him trying to make him cum for Master. The bells on my slave tits ring out drawing the attention of all the bastard Frenchman's men. The one over my slave clit bumps me and starts me on my own trip to orgasm and this is only the first of many captives to be sucked off.

Soon the boy is thrusting what little he has into me in spite of himself until he gasps when he finally shoots his meager offering into me. I pull off him, kneel back and turn to Master with his pitiful, watery deposit on my tongue in my open mouth so he can see.

Master nods at me and turns to Tattoo to say something in a language I don't understand. I swallow and wait patiently for the next boy knowing that this one's fate has been decided for him by his new Master.

The whole thing becomes mechanical as each captive is brought in front of Master. The boy is talked to in his own language and inspected before being given to my insatiable mouth. One boy surprises me with the load of cum he gives me and I am left with his white sperm dripping down my chin onto my tits as I show Master what I have managed to keep on my tongue. Another pulls out at the last moment and sprays his tiny load on my face. When he is done I turn and show Master what he has done to me. Master just has Tattoo make a note about the boy. Nobody cleans me; I am expected to keep sucking pee pees with drying cum on me until Master is done selecting his twenty shemales.

As each boy is selected, they are led by the leash on their collar to the plane and locked into a cage, which is sent up into its dark interior. Most are in shock by now and follow the leash quietly but some fight it all the way and have to be dragged or carried to their fate.

When the last boy is led away Master turns to the bastard Frenchman and says, "You owe me the gift of one more captive for the insulting way you and your men greeted me."

"But Monsieur, they were only trying to protect me!"

"By trying to ambush me?"

"But of course not. It is all a mistake."

The discussion goes on from there until the bastard finally concedes to give Master another captive as an apology.

The ten remaining boys watch with wide eyes and wilted pee pees as Master and the Bastard Frenchman decide the fate for one of them.

At a nod from Master, his handlers move forward to inspect the line of boys. They touch and fondle them as they wish until one is chosen and leashed to be led off to the plane.

The boy is confused, there are no cages left. He soon learns what his fate is as the men lead him to his new life as the boy toy for the handlers.

"I only hire men who prefer boys." Master tells me as he watches the boy fight the men while being carried to his fate. Every man he is carried past either caresses his ass or spanks it. "Its better that way. They don't bother the females and if they have a toy they leave the males alone."

"What sort of world have I found myself in?" I wonder not for the first time.

"That boy won't be sleeping tonight. And for many more nights to come, I think." Master tells the Bastard. "Let me give you my fancy in appreciation."

"I'm being given away?" my loud voice screams.

"She does suck cock so well. Will you have her suck yours before we leave?"

"Its time; this is where you have to perform for Master." my quiet voice tells me.

At a nod from the Bastard Master signals me to stand.

Knowing what is expected of me I rise as elegantly as I can to stand in front of Master with my back to him so he can unlock my hands. I stand proud with the eyes of every man in the hanger on my naked body. When Master unlocks me, I quickly put my hands up to hold my slave tits, turn and kneel in front of him so they can be locked to the chains on my collar.

"Go and suck his cock, slave."

I am not allowed to look at Master's face so I don't know what he is thinking. All I can do is stand and turn to walk toward the Frenchman holding my tits out for him. My mouth is already watering at the thought of his cock.

"It has to be the conditioning." I think as I sway across the short distance to sink on my knees and crawl between the Bastard's legs.

The man stinks of old sweat and stale liquor but I must do what Master bade me to. I reach up to pull the zipper to his pants down and reach inside to pull his cock out and suck on whatever filthy thing I find. What I find is nothing. The man is smaller than the boys he captures and sells!

Now that I have his cock, no, it's not even a pee pee, it's a tiny hard nub. I look up at his face as I am allowed when I hold a master in my hand to see his worried, sweaty face looking down at me.

Making a show of having a larger cock than he has the Bastard pulls my head into his lap. The little thing barely passes my lips. I understand what Master suspected and play the part he wants me to. I pretend to be sucking a bigger thing than what the man is hiding. I know that every eye is on us as I lick the tiny thing he has and at a lax moment, when he takes his hand away from my head, I pull back and look at him with my tongue licking my lips. Two fingers can't even hold him and his men see that before he pushes me back down on him. When he finally cums his nub spurts twice and disappears, leaving a tiny drop of watery cum in my mouth.

There is something else though. His men are talking and the Frenchman is looking out past the plane. I hear things about how they will get Master in the end.

I make a point of looking where he does as I walk back to my Master and see the round barrel of a cannon poking out of the jungle. They talk about how they are going to blow the tail off the plane.

"Are these people nuts!" my small voice asks.

I can't tell Master because I am not allowed to talk. I don't know what to do. Sighing to myself, I stand and walk back to him and kneel by his side and open my mouth to show him the pitiful offering that the Bastard gave me then begin to suck at my chain as fast as I can. Master looks at me with a curious stare. I keep looking at where the cannon is until he understands.

Master calls one of his men over and has a few quick words with him. The man talks to his cuff and seconds later a smoky trail corkscrews out of the other side of the plane. It quickly crosses the short distance to the jungle before shooting up and then straight down to explode behind the cannon there.

There is dead silence after the blast as the cannon falls out of hiding looking very broken. What looks like a body falls across it along with parts of trees.

Now there is a huge rattling roar coming from the plane. I try to stay still for Master but I can't. Only his hand on my head holds me. I watch as a line of little explosions in the tarmac stitch their way into the hangar and across it. The huge machine gun thing is spouting endless flames and bullets. I have trouble believing how fast the thing fires; it's endless and there is a shower of brass falling to the ground under it. A man steps into the way as the line of death moves and is cut in half vertically as his body is thrown back against the wall in a wet spatter of blood. When the bullets reach the bloody wall they climb it then move back and forth above the cowering men's heads letting the bright sun in as they knock the boards loose or just leave gaping holes. I wonder if the roof might cave in; the gun leaves such destruction behind it