Novice Slaveowner

Part 7

I hadn't come any closer to discovering the truth about Julie's and Steve's enslavement and had not much hope that a visit to the Allens would bring me any further, yet something had to be done before Harry broke them completely. The obvious would be to buy them, but he'd never agree to sell Julie, of that I was certain, so I had to try persuading Mr. Allen, who had no special reason to please me. The prospects seemed gloomy when two things happened.

Firstly, my father phoned to tell that he'd pay me a visit in two weeks time to stay for a few days. 'Checking on you' as he chuckled. I told him that I was looking forward to his check and to have him staying with me. He didn't want to intrude on my privacy and suggested a hotel, but I assured him that he would find much better accommodation at my house.

Secondly, I invited two young stockbrokers, who were chairing a seminar at University, for dinner. They were about my age and knew my father well, not personally, but his reputation as a major player on world markets. Christine produced one of her splendid meals and we spent a pleasant evening together. Over coffee our talk turned to other well-known businessmen and I accidentally mentioned Mr. Allen. "Yeah". One of my guests looked speculatively at me. "Are you a close friend of the family or just a business acquaintance?" "Neither, I've just paid him a courtesy visit, now I'm staying here in town". "I see". They exchanged glances. "So you don't do business with him?" "No, my father does, I think. Why?" "Because Mr. Allen is in trouble, big trouble. He's made some very bad investments and lost quite a substantial sum of money, more that he can afford, so rumour says, but your dad must know all about that, more than we do". 'So that's why Harry was so eager to invite me for lunch', I thought, 'His father probably wants to see if I can help him, or rather if my father can, and is willing. Interesting'.

Dinner was as usual accompanied by good wines and I persuaded my guests to taste some of the French fruit brandies I prefer with my coffee. They weren't drunk but happy and relaxed, and I noticed that one of them kept sending sidelong glances at Nathalie. During a break in conversation he cleared his throat. "Eh, that's an interesting specimen you've got there, John". I pretended to be confused and looked at the array of bottles "Which one?" "That slavegirl". "Ah! Well, I suppose so". Now he was openly scrutinising her slim body. "Is she as good in bed as she's pretty?" "I don't really know. I bought her only recently, but she's an excellent slave". "Don't doubt it, but I'd had her in my bed first thing, had she been mine". I shrugged. "I have other slaves". He got the message. "Sure, and very fine boys they are". We turned to other subjects and it was fairly late when my guests rose to take their leave. "Tim can drive you back to the hotel". "Thanks, John, and for a very pleasant evening". The young stockbroker once again eyed Nathalie. "Now a nice girl to round it up, if they have any left on offer". He grinned to me. "Or can I stretch your hospitality a bit further?" "To letting you borrow mine? Perhaps, it depends on your needs. I never beat my girls, so if you like warming up with a spanking or a caning, you can't use Nathalie". His handsome face lit up in a smile. "I don't, but I do like a girl tied firmly, not to hurt her, but to keep her in place". I hesitated and saw the black beauty glance briefly from my guest to me, then lower her eyes with a little smile. "Very well then, but she has to be back for her morning duties, so Tim can wait with the car until you've finished with her". "Thanks again, John, I really appreciate that. Do call me if you want some good tips". "Or me". My other guest nodded towards the slaveboy. "If he has to wait anyway, perhaps I could borrow him for an hour or two?"

"Did he treat you fairly, Nathalie?" She was refilling my teacup at breakfast the next morning. "Yes, Sir". "What did he do, besides fucking you?" "I wasn't fucked, Sir". "What then?" "Your guest tied me spreadeagle on his bed, Sir, face down, and licked my body". "All over?" I raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Sir. He began with my feet and licked all the way up to my neck, then down my back again to stick his tongue into my crack and lick my arsehole". "Some people do have strange needs, don't they. It must have been weird". "It felt good, Sir, and the master kindly allowed me to come". "When he licked your arse?" "Yes, Sir. Never happened to me before, but it was good". "Happy to hear that". "Then the master untied me and made me turn on my back to be tied up again, Sir, and started all over again". "Licking your body?" "Yes, Sir. Sucked on my toes and licked up to my tits. I, eh, I came again, when he…". "You came on your nipples?" "Yes, Sir, and then when he sucked my clit, and stuck his tongue up my cunt". I looked astonished at her. "Four times! You came four times?" "Yes, Sir". She smiled. "Dear me, what a beast! Not you, but that guy. I told him not to hurt you". "He didn't, Sir. It was just wonderful!" "Yeah, she screamed so we could hear it in the next room, Sir". Tim took away my plate, grinning hugely. "Thought he was killing her". His sister stuck her tongue out at him. "So you didn't mind being used, this time?" "No, Sir". "Even if you had no other choice". "No, Sir". She smiled again. "And he didn't demand anything else?" "No, Sir. The master and I took a bath together and he washed me". "Hmm, strange not to seek relief of his own". "The master said that a beautiful body is like a piece of art, Sir. Something to enjoy, not violate". "True, and the other master, Tim?" "Very kind, Sir. I sucked him and he flogged me back when I was between his knees and then fucked me. Beat me off while he was doing it, he did. Said I was good, Sir". "And you should've heard them bellowing, Sir". "Aw, Sis!"

Harry greeted me in the hall when I arrived for lunch, telling that his father would be delayed for a few minutes. A meeting with his bankers took longer than expected. We went out to the terrace, where two half-naked slavegirls as usual knelt in attendance by our chairs while a boy served us wine. I couldn't remember seeing any of the slaves before and asked where Julie was. "That slut!" Harry sneered. "She's being punished, she and her fuck-boy. Want to see?" I didn't, but did want to know how they fared, so I followed him to a space behind the garage where a number of wooden posts and beams proved that the family's slaves could be punished there as well as in the cellar. Steve's naked body was suspended by his big toes from one of the beams, his back a horrible mess of red welts. A similarly marked Julie was on her knees in front of him, face buried in his crotch. A closer look revealed that she had his cock in her mouth. A thin string tied around her neck and the boy's arse kept her in place and her hands were cuffed behind his back. Steve's face was forced into her groin by the same means. Just as we rounded the corner, another slaveboy was directing a stream of piss up and down the two tormented bodies. I almost hit Harry's leering face, but with an effort restrained myself and just stared. "Caught them kissing and cuddling this morning. Still up to their old games, our two turtledoves, so what can a kind master do, other than allow them enjoying each other? Warmed them up a bit, with the bullwhip, and now they can suck and lick all they like for the rest of the day. The other slaves cool them down when they have to piss". I turned away in disgust and headed back to the terrace, where Mr. Allen fortunately was waiting. Dan joined us, looking as if hovering between exploding with rage and bursting into tears.

During lunch Mr. Allen kept up a forced conversation, asking about my studies, if I enjoyed my stay, if I missed my family. I was still fuming with rage, but controlled myself and answered amiably, casually letting slip that I expected a visit from my dear parent the following week. That made my host's eyes gleam and he urged me to persuade him to accept an invitation for lunch or dinner. "Anytime it may be convenient". I promised to do so and confessed that I was a bit worried about the visit. Would my father be comfortable enough? He was used to the best of service and I had only my four slaves. Mr. Allen immediately offered the loan of some of his. "They're very well trained, the best in town". I pretended to think it over and thanked him, but didn't think my father would appreciate that. "He has always warned me against taking advantage of my friends". Mr. Allen assured me that it would only be a pleasure. "Thank you, but perhaps you could sell me one or two of them". "Of course, my dear boy, of course. Harold will select the very best and you can have them for what I paid for them, even if it did cost me a pretty penny to train them". "Well, thanks again, but I'd very much like some I already know. Steve and Julie will suit me fine, I think". "They're not for sale, ever!" Harry hissed vehemently and his father looked uncomfortable. "Well, they're what I want, but if you won't sell them, you won't". I shrugged my shoulders, looking directly at the old man. "I just hope that my father won't be too dissatisfied". "No, no, of course you may buy them". "Dad! You can't!" "Shut up, Harold. I'm acting in your best interest". Mr. Allen sent him a furious look and I glanced at his brother, who suddenly had a relieved smile on his face. "Julie was a birthday present, you can't sell her. She's mine!" "No she's not. I never transferred ownership to you". "It's not fair!" "Why not?" I interrupted. "Your brother will lose his slave as well". "And you can have any of the others, Harold". "Dad!" "Please leave the table, right now, if you can't control yourself!" Harry sank back, muttering to himself and staring angrily at me. Mr. Allen sighed. "Very well, John. I'll send them over tomorrow". "I'd prefer taking them with me right away. There's very little time left to introduce them to their new duties". "As you wish. Make them ready for delivery, Harry". Dan jumped up. "I'll do it, Dad". He ran off and his brother stormed into the house.

I suggested that we finished the paperwork right away and Mr. Allen was writing me a receipt for the check of $30.000, I'd given him, when Dan returned with my purchases. They'd been cleaned and their hair was still damp when they knelt in front of Mr. Allen, naked and with shackled ankles. He glanced briefly at them. "You've been sold. Mr. Marshall is your new master". The girl may have heard what he said, but the words didn't register. She slumped on the ground, forehead resting on the tiles, a picture of utter exhaustion. But Steve's head flew up and he stared at me, uncomprehendingly at first, then with an expression of gratitude I'll never forget. "Help Julie to my car". "Yes, Sir". He scuttled forward on his knees to kiss my shoes, then rose to drag the bewildered girl with him, whispering: "Let's get out of here". They disappeared round a corner while I stayed on for another half hour, discussing stock market techniques with Mr. Allen before thanking him for his kindness with a promise to persuade my father to come for lunch sometime during his stay. Dan saw me out and was fervently thanking me for rescuing of his former schoolmates, when Harry accosted us in the hall. "I'll get you for this, both of you. You plotted it together. Slave lovers!" He almost spat. "But just you wait! I know how to deal with people who try cheating me". I stopped and looked coolly at him. "So, how exactly?" He opened his mouth and I hoped that he'd let slip something to confirm my suspicions, but regrettably managed to control himself and just sent us another acid look before turning on his heel and leave, slamming the door behind him.

To make sure that Harry didn't somehow manage to make his father cancel the deal, I told Tim to drive by the Town Court to make the sale of the two slaves official and was signing the register when somebody called my name. I turned to find a youngish looking man offering his hand. "Hello, Mr. Marshall, happy to meet you at last". I guessed that he in spite of his youth must be Christine's uncle. "How do you do, Chief, my pleasure". His handshake was firm and his smile open and friendly. "Can you spare me a moment, Mr. Marshall?" "John, please. Yes, of course". He ushered me to a spacious office on the next floor and asked me to take a seat. "Mr. Marshall, my family…". I interrupted him. "John, please, and there's no need to thank me. I've already told your sister that Christine serves me admirably. I actually consider myself lucky to own her, but she is my slave and treated as such". "Please hear me out, Mr. Marshall. Chris has always been my favourite niece and I was devastated when she was caught stealing and subsequently enslaved. To see the little girl I've loved, played with, watched growing into a fine young woman, suddenly turned into a naked slave in chains, worked to exhaustion, whipped, used as a sex-toy by some dirty old man or a sadistic teenager was unbearable, even to think of. I've been chief of police in this town for about three years now, the youngest ever. I've done a good job and I'm proud of it, but was ready to quit and leave town to avoid meeting Chris as she would be now, a miserable, barefoot slavegirl, in the street, a shop, at a party, perhaps even see her punished or abused". He looked gravely at me. "I've been spared that, Mr. Marshall, because Chris was bought by a kind and decent master". I was about to protest again when the door was opened and a barefoot girl in a crisp blue tunic entered with a tray. She knelt to offer us two cups of coffee and my host sent her a smile. "Thank you, dear". She smiled back, rose gracefully and left. "So thank you, Mr. Marshall. I owe you more than I can ever repay". He saluted me with his cup. "You owe me nothing, Chief. Firstly, I didn't buy Christine. She was already part of the furniture when I took over my house. Secondly, she's a model slave, as I've already said, and rarely gives me any reason for punishing her, but I do it when necessary. And thirdly, I'm not that kind and decent. My slaveboys would tell you otherwise, I'm sure". "That's not what I've heard, Mr. Marshall, but my concern is for Chris. Of course you punish her, she's your slave, but not excessively and only with just cause, and you don't abuse her sexually". "I prefer my boys, Chief". "Perhaps, but still, and you've allowed her to spend time on her own, with her family and her boyfriend". "I've let a friend borrow my slavegirl. Is that particularly decent?" He looked gravely at me. "You know it is, Mr. Marshall, but I won't argue with you, just repeat that I am in your debt".

"We can't agree on that, Chief, but now that you mention Dan". I told how I suspected that Harry had framed his former friends and about his recent threats. "You don't surprise me, Mr. Marshall. We've been keeping an eye on young Harry Allen and his cronies for some time, especially the rather wild parties they seem to fancy, paid a surprise visit to them a couple of times, but never caught them actually breaking the law". "And you have to be very careful, because they come from rich and influential families". He nodded. "We have, but we're always careful, Mr. Marshall". "I don't doubt it, but it's easier to catch a poor kid". "Perhaps because they break the law more often". "Perhaps, but what about Harry's threats? It's easy enough for me, he has no access to my house and I'll never leave my car unattended, but if he plants something on Dan?" "Let him try, Mr. Marshall. Now you've told about his dirty tricks, we'll conduct a very thorough investigation, should someone tell us that Dan has entered the drug market. There are such things as forensic evidence. Just warn the young man never to handle or just touch unknown packets and his brother may end up framing himself". He smiled thinly and I sighed with relief. "Thank you, Chief". "No need, Mr. Marshall, and don't worry about your car, or house for that matter. My men will keep an eye out". I thanked him again and asked if he would like to sample his niece's great cooking. "And you'll not meet a barefoot slavegirl in chains, but a charming young hostess and her fiancée". He could hardly decline and we agreed to find a date in near future.

Julie still seemed stunned, kneeling on the floor in the back of my car, face pressed to the seat and hands clasped behind her back. Steve sent me a concerned look before he too lowered his face when I entered. Back at my house Tim as usual drove directly to the garage and jumped out to open the door for me. "Fetch Christine to the little flat and bring a key". "Yessir". I told Steve to help his former girlfriend and summoned the house lift. She could hardly walk and sank to her knees as soon as she entered. He knelt beside her, cradling the abused body in his arms, looking pleadingly at me. "Don't worry, she'll soon recover. You first duty as my slave will be to take care of her". "Thank you, Sir", he whispered and hefted her up in his strong arms when the doors slid open. I led them to the flat and its small spare room. "Put her down". I indicated one of the two beds. "And run a hot bath". "Yes, Sir". He lowered her gently, but she cried out when her striped back touched the soft bedspread. "Please", she mumbled, "Please no more, please!" I pushed the boy aside and bowed over her. "Never, Julie. You'll never be whipped again". Her eyelids fluttered open and her large blue eyes stared uncomprehendingly at me. "Never!", I repeated, "You're mine now and I don't beat my slavegirls". Tears were running down her cheeks when she whispered: "Thank you, Sir".

Steve came back from the adjoining bathroom just as the two other slaves entered. Christine took one look at her former schoolmate and burst into tears. Tim relieved the new of their chains and the boys carried Julie to the steaming bath while Christine took a grip of herself and undressed to jump in and help her. I went to the sitting room where the slaveboys knelt in front of my chair. "I don't think I can tell you anything about myself and my household that you don't already know, considering the time you've spent with my slaves". Steve looked up. "No, Sir. May I speak, Sir?" "Go ahead". "Thank you, Sir. We owe you our lives, Julie and I". "Your sanity perhaps, hardly your lives. I can't imagine that Harry could be stupid enough to kill you". "No, Sir. We would". He looked calmly at me. "You?" "That's why we were caught embracing this morning, Sir. Julie couldn't stand it any longer. She was determined to kill herself, slash her wrists with a kitchen knife. I was trying to persuade her not to, but she wouldn't listen". I shook my head in disbelief. "Had she done it, I'd have followed her, Sir". He kissed my shoes. "Thank you, Sir". I cleared my throat. "You are still that much in love with her?" "I am, Sir", he answered quietly. "And she with you?" "I don't know, Sir, but she mustn't. I'll still be a slave ten years after she's been freed. That's no future for her". "Perhaps not, but you'll get a chance to discover your true feelings now". He looked puzzled. "Sir?" "There's not room at the penthouse, so you and Julie will stay here in the spare room, and as you probably know, I don't take my slavegirls to bed, so if both of you want it, I have no objections if you make out with each other". He stared. "Sir!" "Both of you, I said". "Yes, Sir". He was still staring, shaking his head in disbelief.

"But I'm looking forward to enjoying your arse". "Yes, Sir". "It's still virgin, I suppose". "Almost, Sir. We were taught how to serve anally at slave-training, and Master Harold's girlfriend has used a strap-on on me". "While he was banging Julie, I suppose". "Yes, Sir. Sometimes both of them used her and I licked their arseholes, Sir". "Good Lord! What a perverted pair, but then what am I but a perverted faggot, who gets a kick out of beating a helpless boy, fuck his arse and stuff his dirty dick in his mouth afterwards". "Aw, Sir. You're no pervert". "Did I hear you asking permission to speak, Tim?" "Nah, Sir, but I gotta say what's right". "Twenty with the crop on your arse tonight!" "Course, Sir. Thanks, Sir". He was grinning hugely. "Perhaps". I couldn't suppress a smile. "Your and Julie's main duties will be keeping this flat as perfect as my own and serve those of my guests who may be staying here". "Yes, Sir". "That will include your former master and his girlfriend. You will treat her as a mistress on such occasions". "Yes, Sir". "When not occupied here, you'll assist upstairs as directed by my head slave. Julie can help Christine in the kitchen". "Yes, Sir". "But not just now. Both of you, but especially she, need some time to recuperate. My father will arrive next week for a short stay and I want you fit and ready to serve him". "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir, thank you". He kissed my shoes fervently. "Thank you".

I didn't see much of Julie during their first week as my slaves. She stayed at the small flat and I told Fred to allow Christine and Nathalie to spend as much time with her as their duties allowed. On the second morning after I'd bought him, I was surprised to find Steve cleaning the pool area when I came out to the roof garden to enjoy my breakfast. He left his brush and turned on his knees, forehead pressed to the tiles and hands clasped in the small of his back when I strolled over. "Good morning, Steve". "Good morning, Master John". "Sir will do, and you don't have to greet me like that. Please rise". "Yes, Sir". He jumped to his feet to stand with his head submissively bowed. "You feel better?" "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir". "Show me your back". His hands flew behind his neck and he turned to present the horribly striped skin. Not just striped actually, but covered in clearly raised welts, some of which seemed infested, probably because his former fellow slaves had been forced to piss on him. I let my hand slide gently down his back and saw his body go rigid. "This must hurt". I touched one of the worst welts. "Yes, Sir", he gasped. "Why aren't you resting, then, as ordered?" "Slaves have to work, Sir". "Not when incapable". "But I'm fine, Sir, and I feel better when I'm doing something useful". "So you're fit for anything?" "I don't think I can play tennis, not yet, Sir". "That's not what I had in mind. Show me your arsehole". "Yes, Sir". He hauled down his shorts, bent over and reached back to spread his striped cheeks. "Hmm. Very well, since you are so very fit, you can join Tim in my bed tonight". "Yes, Sir". "Carry on". I went back to my table, where Fred was waiting to pour my tea and Nathalie came out to serve the hot plate.

In spite of looking forward to a fresh arse I did feel a bit guilty when the two slaveboys undressed in my bedroom and Steve displayed his welted body, but he didn't hesitate to lie down beside his fellow and have first his hands tied to the headboard, then his legs spread and his feet tied over his head. A beautiful display of boyflesh, with the additional delicious contrast between the black and the white body. Tim was as usual grinning expectantly and wriggling his arse. "A bit of warming up, Tim?" I grabbed the small cane to flick it at the sole of his right foot. "Aah, sure, Sir", he hissed. The cane hit each foot ten times before I dropped it and knelt to ram my rock hard member up the waiting hole. "Please, Sir!" I looked surprised at the other trussed up boy. "Yes, Steve?" "Excuse me, Sir, but it's not fair". "What's unfair?" I frowned. "That you don't warm up on me too, Sir". That took me aback. "Don't you think you've been punished enough?" "Master Harry didn't whip my feet, Sir". "Perhaps not". I buried myself in the black arse and Tim was whimpering, with lust, I think, while I hammered him mercilessly. It was heaven, as always, and I almost lost it, but managed to restrain myself before erupting. "So you want a bastinado, boy?" I withdrew my soiled meat. "If it may please you, Sir". "Aw, mate, don't say dumb things like that. 'Tis not unfair". "Tim!" "Yessir, but please don't hit him, not yet, Sir". "And if I do need another warming up before I fuck him?" "Use me, Sir, please!" I shook no and touched my cock to the other boy's almost virgin hole. "Open up, boy!" "Yes, Sir". I pressed forward and felt him relaxing his sphincter to let me in. "Good heavens, but you're tight!" "Sorry, Sir". "Don't be", I moaned, "But perhaps we should have lubricated you a bit first". Even wet with Tim's arsejuices, I made slow progress up the incredibly narrow passage, but finally my balls touched Steve's striped cheeks. "Aah, I think I'll rest here for a while".

I did, while my throbbing member got adjusted to the warm chute, looking down into the raped boy's eyes. They were calmly returning my gaze, but I thought to read something deep down. Pain? Perhaps. Resentment, hate? Definitely not. Submission? Not that either. Sorrow it was. The unjustly enslaved boy must have resented his fate once, but had come to terms with it, and his rage had been replaced by a deep-rooted sadness. I felt another pang of regret and was about to tell him that I was sorry, when his handsome face suddenly lit up in a warm smile. "Good, Sir?" "Very, Steve". I smiled back. "Thanks, Sir". I moved slowly back. "For what?" "Offering me a chance to pay you back, Sir". My cock pumped slowly and I felt my juices rising again, until they spurted into his bowels. I came with a sigh, not a shout. Deeply satisfying, but very different from the ecstasy I felt when fucking Tim. I stayed inside until my deflated member dropped out by itself. "Thank you, Steve". "Pleasure, Sir". "Hardly". I untied him and as expected, he immediately rolled forward to suck my member clean of Tim's and his own shit. When he sat back on his heels, I nodded to his still soft cock. "Definitely not gay". "Sir?" "You didn't get an erection". "No, Sir". "So you don't need to come just now?" He looked surprised. "No, Sir". "Just beat off, man. The master's so kind. He always allows us". "Thank you Sir, but I really don't need to". "Julie's enough for you?" "I, eh, we haven't. No, Sir, but Master Harold never allowed his slaves any relief". "But I do, so would you please help poor Tim?" The black cock was still waving angrily, ramrod stiff. "Aw, Sir, I can do it meself, if I'm untied". But Steve didn't hesitate to follow orders and quickly swallowed his fellow's meat, sucking gently. Tim grunted a protest, but couldn't resist and soon cried out his joy, while Steve swallowed frantically. "Ooh! Thanks, Sir, and thanks, mate".

Dan came up for lunch the next day. His former master's eyes lit up, when Steve came out to serve a drink, neatly dressed in white shorts and T-shirt. "Good to see you again, my friend. You look well". The tall slave bowed. "I am, Sir, very well". "This brute treats you fairly?" "Master John's very kind to his slaves, Sir". "Unlike some. And Julie?" "She's fine, Sir". "No she's not", I interrupted, "But at least recovering". Dan's face darkened. "I'm sorry". "Not your fault, but it almost finished her". I related what Steve had told me. "But you wouldn't, Steve!" He nodded gravely. "Yes, Sir. Our only way out". "Except for one other". He dropped down to kiss my shoes. "Yes, Sir, but we never imagined that possible". "Neither did I". Dan shook his head. "I'll never understand why Dad agreed to sell them?" "Your father is in trouble, financial trouble, and hopes that my parent can do something to help him. That's why he was prepared to do almost anything to ensure a meeting". "I see, yes, that explains it". Dan thought the unexpected news over. "Is Dad going broke?" "I can't tell you, but his troubles are known in financial circles". "Wish he were!" "You don't mean that, Dan". "Yes, I do. At least it would force us out of that horrible house. Harry hates me and he treats our slaves worse than ever". "Ah, yes, Harry. Now I must warn you". I reminded him of his brother's threats and told of my meeting the police chief. He shook his head. "I don't believe it. Even Harry couldn't be that bad. I'm his brother, for God's sake". "Perhaps not, but take care anyway. Promise?" He nodded. "OK, but...". We turned to more pleasant subjects and after the meal I sent him down to the little flat to enjoy a cup of coffee in the company of his three former schoolmates. "And remember, down there they're not slaves, but your friends". "Yes, thanks John. You're a great guy". When Tim was licking my feet that evening, he suddenly looked up. "Scuse me, Sir, but I heard what you said to Master Dan". "Yes?" "His brother threatened you, for real?" "You missed a 'Sir', but yes, he did, and I don't doubt that he was serious". "Shit!" "Tim!" "Sorry, Sir, but no one's gonna do nothing 'gainst me master, Sir". "Thank you, but there's hardly anything you can do about it. Just keep an eye out and never leave the car unattended". "Yes, Sir. No, Sir". He mumbled something unintelligible and resumed his licking.

The day before my father was due to arrive I inspected the extra flat. It was immaculate, of course, neat and tidy, with fresh flowers everywhere. Steve and Julie were looking well, but I asked to see her body. The back had healed, but still bore witness of the brutal punishment. "Are you sure that you're fit to serve?" "Yes, Sir". "I could send Nathalie down and you could help Christine in the kitchen, take a rest when needed". She shook her head. "I don't know what to say, Sir. You're so kind, so kind". Her voice broke and she swallowed hard. "But I can serve your father, I want to, Sir". "Calm down, Julie. Of course you may serve him, but if it proves too much for you, tell Fred and he'll replace you with Nathalie". "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir". Her eyes were brimming with tears. "At least you won't have to serve the old boy in bed", I chuckled.

Of course I should've known better, but one doesn't imagine that one's dear parents have a sex life, does one? You know that they must have, at least once, but that's just something they did to produce you.

"I say, John, haven't you changed quite a bit, for the worse". My father arrived rather late and pretty tired, so we'd just had a drink and exchanged the latest news, before he retired to the flat. "Dad?" I was baffled and must have looked it. "That poor slavegirl, what did she do to earn a thrashing like that?" "Slavegirl?" I looked bewildered at Nathalie, who was serving our breakfast. "Not her, the girl downstairs. I was in need of a bit of comfort before turning in and told her to undress, but lost all interest when I saw the state of her back". I stared, completely stupefied. "How could you do such a thing, John. You've always been a gentle soul, or so your mother and I thought. Has your new status as a slaveowner corrupted you?" "Nah, Sir, 'scuse me, Sir. Master John's the kindest master alive, Sir. 'Scuse me, Sir". As usual, Tim couldn't keep his mouth shut, but this time he deserved my everlasting gratitude. My father looked up. "He is, is he? Or are you just scared out of your wits?" Tim grinned. "No of course not, or you wouldn't dare speak without permission. But who whipped the poor girl, then?" I gathered my wits and quickly explained about Harry. "I see, young Allen. Well, it's no surprise, I never liked him". He looked up at Nathalie. "So he's a kind master, this son of mine?" "The best, Sir". She looked calmly at him. "Master John would never beat a slavegirl, Sir". "I'm indeed happy to hear that, but a slaveboy?" "Aw, Sir. Got to, ain't he, or this lazy boy of his gonna get even worse than he is, Sir". My father chuckled. "If your say so". We returned to the subject of the Allens, and I told about the bait I'd used to get Julie and Steve out of Harry's clutches. "Very clever of you, John and I shall pay a visit to Mr. Allen, but that won't help him". "So it really is bad?" "Quite frankly, yes. He has ruined himself, no one can do anything about that. He may last another couple of months, perhaps half a year, but not avoid the inevitable".

We spent the day relaxing and talking about old times, the family, and my future. Christine produced her customary miracles at lunch and dinner, and my father offered to buy her, or rather tried pressing me to sell her. "Don't you think you poor parents deserve a bit of luxury, now we're growing old?" "I can't imagine you, or Mother, lacking anything". "We've never had a cook like her". "I know, but you can't have her anyway. She can't leave this country". "Of course she can". He explained that even if it was rare, a slaveowner could obtain permission to take his property abroad, if the slaves in question agreed. They'd be equipped with implants; one a satellite connected tracing device, the other containing a deadly poison, which would be injected if they ran away. He was only half-serious, of course, so I talked my way out of it.

When we were enjoying our coffee after dinner, he nodded at Nathalie and asked: "Now I can't use the slavegirl, you've assigned to me, I should like another". I could hardly believe my ears. 'He really meant it!' My stupefaction must have been all too plain, because he chuckled: "Shocked, son, that your old man is still harbouring a taste for teenage girls?" "Ah, no... Damn it, yes I am!" "Why? Don't you consider me a proper man?" "I, eh, ...". "I'm not exactly a relic, you know, even if I may seem so to you". "Of course not". "And if it's your mother's feelings that are troubling you, rest assured. We've never had any secrets, son, we share everything, so she knows full well that I use the opportunity when over here". "Ah, yes". "And approves, John. We love each other, would never dream of denying the other anything. So don't be afraid that you might let something slip. I'll tell her myself, when I get home". "I, eh, yes. Of course you may use Nathalie". "Is she any good?" "I, eh, yes she is, very good". I looked behind him and saw the girl looking very smug. 'Ah, well, he may be old, but not that old, and quite handsome', I thought. 'And you do need a bit of fun, don't you, girl?'

This time I never dreamt about questioning her, but didn't need to, as it turned out. My father was late for breakfast the next morning, and when he eventually appeared, sank down wearily on the chair, Fred held for him. "Good morning. I hope you slept well". He sighed. "When I eventually was allowed to go to sleep, yes". I looked questioningly at him. "I asked for it, but that black devil almost finished me. Perhaps I am a relic, after all". "Uh, Nathalie, you mean?" "The same. What an inappropriate name for a tiger. But you were right. She's good. Fantastic! I haven't had a night like this since your mother and I were newly wed". "I'm happy to hear that, I'm sure". "Stop being prickly, John. You should be happy to have given your old man a great gift". "But I am, Sir!" "Those legs, incredible!" He sighed. "And she persuaded me to tie her up!" He shook his head. "Never tried that before. Spread-eagle. Hogtied. Legs over head. Good heavens! Do you do that, in bed I mean?" "I, eh, yes, very stimulating". "An understatement, I dare say, but I hope you can do without her for the duration of my visit". "Of course". "I promise not to have a heart attack". He chuckled and Nathalie came out to serve a hot plate.

In the event, he never did visit Mr. Allen. Later that day Dan phoned to tell that his brother had been found dead in his car. He'd apparently driven it off the road and down a ravine, breaking his neck in the fall. What was more, the police found a fair amount of narcotics in the car. The shock, on top of his other troubles, was too much for Mr. Allen. He had a massive coronary during the night and died two days later at hospital. Dan was devastated and I persuaded him to stay with me. My father and I did our best to console him, but it was Christine who succeeded. I put him in the third spare bedroom, with her of course, and when they eventually emerged next morning, he was almost his old self.

My father stayed to help Dan sorting out his affairs. Mr. Allen was in fact broke, but his and Harry's life insurance and the sale of mansion and slaves, to carefully selected new owners, brought enough to ensure Dan a comfortable life, for some time at least. Luckily one of the larger flats was free and he moved in there. I lent him Christine, who from then on just served as our cook.

Some time after my father had left, the chief of police came for lunch. As promised, we were four at table, Christine ravishing in a short white summer dress and Dan unable to hide his happiness. During a lull in our conversation Tim came out to serve another course. The chief looked up at him. "You are very devoted to your master, aren't you, Tim?" He bowed, for once without his usual grin, rather looking frightened. "Yes, Sir. I'd do anything for Master John, Sir". "I don't doubt it and in a way I'm in your debt, but don't do it again". "No, Sir". He bowed and disappeared hastily. I don't think our two turtledoves noticed anything, but I looked questioningly at my guest, who just shrugged his shoulders.

When I later was alone with him I asked about Tim. "Young Harry Allen's death was no accident. His neck was broken long before the car crashed". "Oh!" "I suspect that he was killed because of his amateurish dabbling in drugs". "I see". And I did. "Quite, but this will go no further, Mr. Marshall". "Of course not". "As I've told you before, I consider enslavement of young offenders profitable, for all parties. Provided, and that's very important, provided that slaveowners recognise that their first duty is to ensure that slaves are not just punished, but brought back on the right track, ready to re-enter the world as good citizens, once they've served their sentence. Few people really understand that, but those who do, earn not only the respect, but also the love of their slaves". "I , eh,...". "Some people even understand that an offer of honest work is the best remedy against juvenile crime". "I suppose so". "So, Mr. Marshall, you've won the respect, love, of some of our most troublesome citizens, and benefited from it in a rather unusual way. Please continue your good work".