Jake Bartholomew had been dead for five years now, but I kept his name in the title to honor our long term partnership. The firm had been in the slave business for over 30 years now and, over the years, both Jake and I had learned all the pitfalls of dealing in slaves but, overall, had also enjoyed all the profits to be made once you got the hang of it.
Jake had died of a heart attack in his fiftieth year, already a millionaire many times over. He had no family, just a big mansion full of good-looking slaves at his disposal. It was those house slaves that did him in, actually, in that he suffered the fatal attack fucking his third slave that night - a feat that would do a lot of men his age in if you aren't careful and slow down a bit. But, probably because he had no wife and kids, he left everything to me, his long-time business partner. The windfall came as a surprise to me.
First, he knew I didn't need the money. Second, I thought he would leave his estate to some of the charities he favored and which he had been very generous to while he was alive, e.g., the "Make a Dream Come True" Foundation, which gave slaves away to worthy chaps that were so down and out for one reason or another they could never hope to have enough money to purchase a slave themselves, or the "Slave Availability Society" which subsidized slave dealers in towns and villages so small they couldn't support an outlet of their own.
I wasn't as enamored with those non-profits as he was and never gave them a dime of his money. The "Make a Dream" group all too often put slaves into situations where they couldn't be supported over the long haul and most of them eventually died of diseases caused by malnutrition or neglect. Furthermore, those receiving the "Dream" used their slaves incessantly as if to make up for years of not having them available and a lot died of overuse, literally fucked to death within a year or so of the "Dream" becoming reality. The "Slave Availability Society" simply propped up poor business practices. While it was true that slave dealers in small towns were dying out (similar to car dealers), there was a reason for that. First, people could now easily travel to a city to purchase where they had a wide variety to choose from and lower prices due to higher volume. Second, some of the smaller dealers, in order to make a decent living, were now dealing in illegal slaves (those kidnapped with no papers, stolen slaves, illegal immigrants rounded up by renegade slave catchers, and children of destitute parents who had sold their own children to the scoundrels) thereby giving slaves dealers a bad name in general. In my view, the "Society" was doing a lot more harm than good, although they argued they made it possible for a little old lady who couldn't drive to buy some household help with little trouble.
Thinking it over, I thought if Jake were still alive, he'd want me to plow his money into the business we had spent a lifetime developing. That's just what I did. Within a year after his death, the company offered twice the inventory, the quality was higher overall, and we had three times as many branch offices as we had before.
We now even offered a "franchise" opportunity where you could open up a full-service branch office with your own capital and have full access to our entire inventory, all by paying a rather stiff monthly fee in return for our name, our advertising, our reputation, and, most of all, the privilege of being able to tap into our thousands and thousands of stock on hand. This latter feature of the franchise was the kicker - customers wanted a huge choice - and only a huge inventory could meet those demands, especially since the internet made possible instant pictures and specs of all inventory within seconds. Hence a person in the most remote spot in Wyoming had about the same choice as a resident in New York City if he or she didn't mind paying some modest shipping costs. You want an 18-year-old blond boy, heavily muscled, with long hair, green eyes, a 10" circumcised prick, flawless tanned skin, and quick to learn? Or a jet-black boy 6'5" with a 48" chest, a 30" waist, 32" hips, 18" neck, big succulent nipples, a 12 x 6" super-dick that easily aroused and has real staying power, and who can read, write, and do at least simple arithmetic so he can do your shopping? No problem - we have them in stock and can get them out to that remote Ranch by Federal Express within two days. And you can put your purchase on any major credit card. Furthermore, your purchase will have a 30-day limited guarantee or your money back, along with all transportation charges. It's hard to compete with that, and most franchisees realized it - we had so many applicants, we could pick and choose among them to insure they would meet all our standards once they were set up and in operation.
It was the franchising that made us a household name throughout the U.S., Mexico, Canada, and Great Britain, although we are considering branching out, even as I write this, to 56 other countries that have expressed great interest and where slavery is well established and thriving. So far, our statistical projections tell us that opening a franchised branch in Saudi Arabia (financed by a member of the royal family who was most eager to invest) would increase our business 14% with just that one additional country since we would be offering mainly American stock that is so popular there. Opening up a franchised outlet in Mexico City would be profitable within three months, especially since most of the stock offered would be Mexican themselves, strongly preferred by local buyers who tended to like their slaves brown, Catholic, and Spanish speaking.
But even without franchising, we were growing leaps and bounds with new company- owned dealerships. For example, buying up cheap Polish slaves and selling them (after several months of rigorous training) in a new chain in Brazil (mainly centered in Rio), would pay for itself within 18 months according to our projections, despite the costs of building the showrooms and holding pens, the transportation and training costs, the sales staff, etc. Rich Brazilians couldn't seem to get enough of the gleaming white, muscular bodies from Eastern Europe we were offering. A new company-owned outlet in Dubai pushing blacks from Zaire at prices so low a good cow cost more was racking in unbelievable profits and the supply from Zaire and its neighboring countries seemed bottomless. The blacks were primarily bought up by construction companies who liked to keep their labor costs down, although the prettier ones brought a little bit more and ended up in Dubai restaurants and hotels as the backbone of their staff. For value, slaves from central Africa couldn't be beat: they cost little to start with; were sturdy enough to be worked 15 hours a day 7 days a week year after year as long as you fed them well; and they were easy to manage since most of them considered their lives better now than they had ever been in that they were no long hungry all the time, had a place to sleep, and weren't scared of being slaughtered in the next political coup.
My special expertise was in stocking brothels. I always thought of that as a special mission in life because most people, in reality, couldn't own a slave themselves - slaves were simply too expensive if there was any life in them at all. Therefore, most people never enjoyed one of the biggest benefits of slavery worldwide - having a nice body to sexually pleasure you whenever you wanted. That still remained a privilege only the rich enjoyed. But brothels open to the public meant the middle class still had ready and frequent access to slaves for their sexual pleasure. Even the poor could enjoy it, although they usually had to save up for it over time or win it in a lottery (increasingly, a free visit to a slave brothel was the top draw in any raffle sold to the poor).
Brothels had dramatically increased with the reintroduction of slavery, it being a natural growth industry in that there was no problem in keeping the brothels well stocked now, the goods offered could be much improved with so many slaves to choose from in stocking them; and the cost could be lowered to where anyone could afford them due to the low cost of slaves in general.
My first venture with Jake into the slave business was just that - buying up some slaves for local brothel owners, eager to replace their aging, troublesome (most were drug addicts or worse), and often diseased stock with something fresh, sexually appealing, and cheap. Furthermore, slaves were the ideal choice for a brothel: they had no choice in the matter of whoring themselves; they had no right of choosing or rejecting customers; they could be worked incessantly; and they could be easily and cheaply replaced as soon as they lost their appeal or simply wore out. Brothel owners soon discovered even their discarded slaves had a good resale market: lots of middle class people wanted a well-trained, experienced slave for their own bed if they could get them cheap enough. Used slaves previous owned by the brothels were accustomed to doing anything demanded of them both in and out of bed and made an obvious choice for such buyers.
Jake hunted the markets for new stock for the brothels - those that needed considerable training, but who had the goods and sexual equipment to prove appealing in about any circumstance. I worked the other end of the market: taking their trade-ins and peddling them to private ownership within the middle class, often first-time slave owners.
My first adventure in this area was when a most pleasant black man came into our dealership asking if we had anything he could afford, perhaps "a former brothel slave getting a little gray hair or whose a little slow anymore in getting it up," he stated with a tinkle in his eyes. "I'm afraid that's about all I can afford but I thought maybe some of their 'worn-out' goods might be priced at something I could afford. Anything is better than what I've got now," he snickered, looking down at his right hand somewhat sheepishly. "Doesn't even have to be black - any color will do. I know you can't be picky when you don't have any money."
I sympathized with the man at once, trying to imagine what it would be like without a slave around to give you a little pleasure now and then.
"Most of our offerings are priced high," I started out defensively, not used to dealing with anyone who had to worry about what slaves cost.
"I know, but I thought it wouldn't hurt to inquire - I thought.... perhaps... sometimes you had some stock that wouldn't bring much on the auction block... now and then... maybe.."
I stared at him for a long while and then thought of several boys back in the holding pens that had just been traded in for new stock by a thriving brothel in Chicago. We hadn't allowed much for trade-in value and I really hadn't thought of what exactly I was going to do with them. The profits on their replacements had been enough to where I could wholesale them to the rendering plants or just give them away and still make plenty on the deal. As I thought about it, the slaves didn't look all that worn-out despite the heavy usage they had no doubt received in the brothel - just a little gray around the temples, some tell-tale wrinkles around the eyes, some receding hairlines, balls that were sagging noticeably, and assholes that rarely really closed entirely anymore. Why couldn't they be resold as "used goods" to someone like this black man who wanted one only for his own use? Why did I have to sell them for next to nothing to a rendering plant or perhaps an organ-replacement outfit - either one would give me about $150 a pound at best.
"Well, won't hurt to look, will it?" I said hopefully to the black man. "We just might find something cheap enough for you. Let's say you had enough money to purchase a slave. What would you be looking for?
"Well, all things being equal, I suppose I would really like a black man like myself who had been well trained in accepting his slavery and who had a good track record in pleasing a master in his bed. Given my druthers, I suppose I would like best a slave that had been a bed boy to some rich man or woman for a number of years and had performed in his duties there very well but his master or mistress had tired of him or maybe a brothel slave that couldn't manage the work load anymore or perhaps a mistress' or master's play toy who was getting a bit old for that sort of thing. Surely, sir, they'd cost less than the fresh young boys just out of slave training schools."
With that, I invited him back to the holding pens some distance from the regular sales display areas. The holding pens were crowded that day and the place reeked of its usual odors and sounds: the overwhelming smell of body sweat, urine, and stale cum and the clamor of muted frantic questions, bodies constantly rubbing against each other in the overcrowded pens, the occasional screams as prods and whips found their mark by overseers managing the pens, and the grunts and groans of those being used by the overseers for their own pleasure at the moment, a privilege even overseers who were slaves themselves had over their charges.
Without too much difficulty, I found a back pen where the brothel's trade-ins had been placed temporarily. Whip in hand, I ordered them outside their cage and to display themselves properly. They eagerly complied, falling over each other in complying to my commands, in that they sensed a potential sale might be possible other than the terminal disposals all slaves had at least heard rumors about.
The black man's eyes lighted up when a black slave displayed himself right in front of him who had a prestigious brothel tattoo, signifying his special training, right in the middle of his back. The black, turning slightly gray around his temples, had a very tight muscular ass, a well- muscled body indicating the brothel had kept him in mandatory weight lifting and exercise routines, and was ruggedly masculine. He sported a nice-sized but not gigantic circumcised prick, nicely shaped balls that still appeared fairly firm despite all the use he had undoubtedly received over the years, and seemed to be totally compliant and accepting of what he had been used for over the past few years.
When I saw the customer's interest in the black goods being offered, I thought I could get whatever the man had in his savings. It would in all probability be considerably more than I could get for the slave in selling him to a lady's posh beauty boutique where the treatments involved being skillfully fucked whenever the ladies were interest in this diversion or selling him off for organ replacements. The boutique had offered a paltry sum for such a slave, considering all they expected out of the purchase. Besides, the boutique had requested a white slave although I doubt it would make too much difference once they saw this one.
Nevertheless, I insisted my potential buyer also examine some of the other trade-ins. A big white would cost him no more and was just as good looking, but was, admittedly even older than the black boy and the white sported a prick so big not too many could handle it up their ass if that's one of the things he had in mind.
"These trade-in's from the brothels - what generally happens to them?" the customer asked, obviously genuinely interested.
"Well, a white slave traded in a few weeks ago by a famous brothel, very similar to the slave you see here, was lucky enough to be bought by a black master who wanted a heavy-hung white boy in his personal stable. Under his new ownership, the slave's life was relatively easy compared to his previous life back in the brothel - he was seldom fucked more than three times a day by either his new master or his many guests and he generally had to discharge a full load only twice a day or so - either from being milked or fucking his master once a day or so - always under the master's complete direction, of course. His output was a big hit with his new owner who enjoyed a slug of fresh slave cum each morning as a nice little tonic."
"That was a lucky slave," the black man commented, "although I doubt if I would demand much more from a slave after the novelty wore off."
"Probably not, and any of these boys could perform up to those levels, despite how much they got fucked back in the brothels. You know, I've seen a lot of brothel slaves being traded in for fresh stock. Most of them are still damn appealing and every single one of them I've seen is fully accepting of what they've been asked to do over the years. I can't imagine them being anything but grateful to a new owner, no matter what was asked of them. It's a shame, really, that they are marketed better. For most of them we just don't bother. They get shipped over to rendering or the organ processing places - it's just easier that way than holding them at some expense while someone finds a new home for them. Costs a lot just to feed and house a boy when you're not getting anything out of him in return, you know."
"Can you come up with $30,000 for the black slave you seem to have taken a fancy to?" I asked the customer. "That's just a little more that what we'd get for him for his organs."
"Can do," the black man answered. "He's worth that, even if all he's good for anymore is just taking a good fucking. For all I know, he can't shoot off anymore or even hold an erection very long, but for that price, who cares? "
"My sentiments exactly, sir," I answered. "But, my experience says that with the easier life he'll have with you, his virility will come around over time and within three months or so, he'll get it up just as well as he ever did. The brothels tend to heavily overuse their boys as you are no doubt aware, but a little rest goes a long way in getting them back to what they were originally. Sometimes, I think that instead of always trading them in like they do, they'd do just as well sending them off to a rest home for a few months. Wouldn't cost them nearly as much as trading in their stock."
"Yes, but the stock would still look older and everyone going to a brothel wants them young and tender," the black man laughed.
"I'm sure you're right, so my business will continue to prosper," I snickered.
With that, the black boy was shackled appropriately while I collected the sales money (a credit card charge after I checked the bank) and filled out the bill of sale and put the other stock back in their holding cage. I watched as the black slave struggled with his shackles to get into the back of his new master's SUV for the trip to his new home. I had no doubt his shackles would be off within the hour and his ass would be taking the full length of his new master's prick. I chuckled as I thought it wouldn't be anything new to the slave, but it would be a thrilling experience for his new owner. It's always a thrill to own what you're fucking and to know you can do it over and over with no additional fees and no objections from the well-trained and very experienced slave being fucked.
My deceased partner Jake specialized in buying and training slaves newly placed on the market and had many a tale about his work in that area. He had obtained slaves from all over the world of every different color from coal black to lily white, every occupational background from Sunday School teachers to drug dealers and pimps, every educational level from the illiterate to Ph.D.s, and every attitude toward their new life from deep rebellious resentment to a placid stoic acceptance. One block of our holding pens held the latest batches of these newly acquired slaves being prepared for their initial basic training procedures. Another block of pens held those currently in basic slave training. Still another block held those who had completed their basic training and were not enrolled in specialized training, i.e., training as a pleasure slave. Finally, another building of cells held those who had received all the training they were going to get from us and were now awaiting the next auction. Altogether, we had over 4600 slaves available for eventual sale in this one site alone. No wonder we were now one of the largest slave dealers in the country.
I n addition, we had a huge corps of trainers at the site. While the overseers that fed, bathed, and got the slaves from one place to another, as well as caged them appropriately, were all slaves themselves (usually aging or unattractive slaves that were worth more to us as overseers than we could get for them on the auction block), the trainers were all hired freemen who enjoyed shaping the slaves into totally compliant obedient animals that would prove satisfactory to any buyer no matter what was asked of them. In addition, the trainers made sure the slaves knew how to display themselves well to attract the highest bids, how to use their bodies to please a new master or mistress both in and out of bed, and how to put everything they had into accomplishing what their new owner wanted whether it was grunt work at the sewage plant, working on their farms and factories, cleaning their houses, or pleasing them sexually.
Trainers often had failed in other occupations which proved boring to them. But whipping slaves into shape was a special talent that required an attitude that slaves are just animals, not humans like they were. The best among them got their 'kicks' from shaping the slaves into docile domesticated animals - something natural dominants enjoyed.
Jake had a theory that the very best trainers had been raped in their youth by bullies or authority figures such as their fathers or older brothers. Their deep-seated resentment expressed itself when given an outlet - the very best outlet being domination over those who had to do as they say or suffer the consequences - i.e., slaves. I saw his point as, invariably, trainers tended to rape the slaves under them at every opportunity and the minute they were assigned a new slave. It wasn't just establishing their authority (which was routine in any slave training), it was more than that when you studied the trainers' faces as they fucked their charges. It was the reverse play on what had happened to them years and years ago when they too could do nothing about it.
As a result of Jake's theory, we always let our trainers pick out the slaves they wanted to work with. Usually, this involved having the slave stand before the trainers needing a new assignment totally exposed while they looked the slave over thoroughly, questioned him as to his background and attitude to assess how difficult he would be to train, and to judge his reaction to their powerful, muscular bodies (Jake only hired trainers who were very well built and physically imposing).
Most trainers started out working with the slaves with a least a pair of shorts on to let the slave know they were free men, but usually these were discarded when they started fucking the slaves to establish their authority. After that, they just worked nude (like the slaves were kept) in that the slaves knew who they were by this time and it was a lot easier to fuck the slaves conveniently without having to remove their shorts each time in that most trainers fucked the slaves they were training at least two or three times a day each. By not shooting off each time, they were able to fuck all the slaves under their supervision over and over. A typical trainer thus poked a good 12 to 15 butts a day and saved their discharge for the end of a working day when they had a slave trainee suck them off and swallow the whole load.
When a trainee looked at his trainer each day, he saw a mountain of muscle who was going to ream his butt over and over each and every day.
This procedure accomplished three goals: it taught the slave his body was no longer his own but now belonged to his owners who would do what they wanted with it; it familiarized the slave with one of his most basic duties - satisfying an owner sexually; and it satisfied the trainers who saw fucking the slaves one of the most effective ways of establishing their absolute authority over the slaves.
We paid our trainers well. As I said before, they were highly selected for physical as well as psychological traits. In addition, they had to be able to fuck long and hard if slaves were to be properly and completely trained. We wanted them to feel their efforts were recognized and rewarded. But, as Jake pointed out, if we had selected a trainer well, his best reward was producing a slave who was eager to please his mistress or master, who accepted his slave status without question, and who could no longer conceive of being anything but a slave.
With their pay, most of the trainers saved up for their old age by investing in the stock of, you guessed it - slave processing, training, and trading firms like our own - a business they felt they had a stake in and which would undoubtedly grow as slave ownership spread to the middle class. If they wanted to invest in our company's stock, we gave them a 5% discount as a fringe benefit. Another fringe benefit we offered, which wasn't common with other dealers, was the privilege of taking any slave we had in stock home with them overnight as long as they vouched for the security of our property and didn't return the slave with any damage that would affect the slave's sales price.
How effective our training was could be ascertained by the prices brought when the slave was auctioned off as compared to what we had paid for him originally. In most cases, the difference was at least 100%. Few people wanted an untrained slave and all the troubles that entails. They were more than willing to pay for something they could count on to give good service with little to no complications. Deduct the cost of the trainers and what it cost to feed and house them in the holding cells while they were being trained and we still made at least 50% profit we figured.
My special interest was in the used slave market - buying a slave who had been trained long ago and had served, usually, at least one or two masters or mistresses before ending back up in the market again. This took a lot of expertise in ferreting out the quality stock from the stock being dumped for good reason.
The object, of course, was to buy a high quality, well trained slave on the cheap and resell him for at least a 50% profit. Two factors were paramount: one, the slave had to still have a nice, appealing body that wasn't worn out; two, the slave's training was still well embedded so a new owner could expect the same degree of obedience and total compliance he or she would expect from a slave right out of a training program.
Many of the slaves I bought had been used as pleasure slaves by previous owners and were marketed to new buyers interested in slaves already well trained and experienced in that area. The idea of a fresh virgin wasn't valued by this group, who valued complete compliance and mastery of work skills over freshness.
Pleasure slaves generally had very nice, appealing, and sexy bodies or they wouldn't have been picked for that speciality area to start with. Generally, males in this area had well-toned muscular physiques, large, easily aroused sexual organs, and handsome, masculine looks.
Their original training was generally extensive, starting with getting used to having their bodies fondled all over, accepting rigorous manipulation of their sexual organs, obtaining and holding an erection as long as their owner wanted, adapting to being fucked long, hard, and deep by all sizes and shapes of pricks, sucking anything stuck in their mouths without hesitation and swallowing any output down without reserve, and being familiar with all the ways a body could be fucked and/or suck possible. They also needed to know how to fuck to yield the most pleasure when that skill was called upon since most mistresses (and many masters) started with that demand.
Sex training was one of the longest training programs slaves were exposed to and resulted in sex slaves brining some of the highest prices on the market, over and above what their good looks and heavy equipment would have brought anyway.
But the market was growing steadily for sex slaves. Everyone of means had at least one or two on hand and the middle classes were beginning to buy used sex slaves about as quick as they hit the market. Prices for used slaves were going down at the same time. Ten years ago, sex slaves were the latest rage, but now that original batch were entering their late 20s and early 30s and the prices reflected the depreciation.
Not all the used sex slaves I marketed were that old, however. Some were still relatively young and had hit the market for a variety of reasons. One, Puppy, was a 21-year-old mulatto slave who had been been owed by a black teenager as his personal bed buck. But financial problems (mainly a drug deal gone bad) forced the teenage master to sell Puppy to me at a sacrifice price. I made a fortune on that deal, selling Puppy to a white man in his 40s who liked well trained, well hung slaves with a touch of color to them. Another blond stud was 30 when I acquired him from his mistress, but looked no more than 25 and could get it up readily and hold an erection for hours if necessary. His former mistress traded her studs in every two or three years in that she had a fetish for the young bucks. That proclivity for freshness was much to my financial benefit in that I sold the stud for two-and-a-half times what I paid for him to a young millionaire just 23 who preferred his sex slaves be older than him - some sort of a dominance thing with him apparently, especially noticeable in that he had all his slaves leashed by the tight band around their genitals as well as all of them were kept with rings through the end of their penises where they could also be leashed. In addition, every slave he had (and he had over eight of them in his house alone) had to totally genuflect in his presence with their body fully bent over as their forehead touched the ground and their knees spread wide apart to best display their sexual organs. I imagined the slaves he bought got used to this fast enough, but being led around by his genitals would take some getting used to, even being fully trained. After I had bought them and when the moment of their resale arrived, these slaves already knew how to display themselves well. They made sure their organs were easy to manipulate, generally by thrusting them as far forward into the prospective customer's hands as possible and never flinched as they were stroked and fondled. Those kneeling made sure their knees were as far apart as possible to offer the best display of their organs and each one made an effort to smile at whoever was looking them over to convey they wanted to be bought.
But not every slave I bought for resale had been a pleasure slave. Many were nice enough looking, but had been the more common type of slave: slaves used in construction work, the mines, factory work, etc. Most slaves, frankly, ended up doing the work no one else wanted to do - the grunt work - and there was a huge market there. In fact, I would estimate a good 90% of all slaves were purchased for that purpose and the popularity of slavery rested as much on this endless source of labor as much as it did having a body around to cheerfully take care of your sexual needs.
Used slaves in this area were common enough. Firms utilizing them went bankrupt for any number of reasons and their creditors sold off their assets, mainly draft slaves. Corporate takeovers often revealed surplus slaves on hand which could be put to better use by selling them off for whatever they would bring. Companies with temporary cash flow problems often sold off some slave stock to raise much needed capital, only to turn around and buy replacement stock when the financial crisis had passed. In this latter case, the corporations were using the slave dealers as a bank, so to speak, in that they were borrowing from us by giving us slaves as collateral. In their view, a slave was a slave, a unit of work, so it didn't matter which particular slaves were involved in the shifts.
Slaves like this didn't even seem to mind change of ownership. They had never been called by a name, they usually worked in gangs where a ready whip "told" them what to do and at what pace, and they seldom had the same overseers from one day to the next. The corporate world they lived in was impersonal, profit oriented, and certainly viewed slaves as a commodity - animals to be exploited and then traded at will. One body was just as good as another and a supervisor was judged by how much work could be extracted from those under him - no questions really asked about how he did this as long as the properties didn't depreciate too much in the process. The only "human" aspects of their work was being fucked by their overseers - this brought human contact, at least, and sometimes gave them a little pleasure, although that certainly wasn't the point of them being fucked.
So, there's that sort of market - the raw work market and then there's the more esoteric market. For example, not too long ago, I was able to acquire two brothers right out of initial training in that their slave training facility was going under due to poor management. I got them cheaply enough, considering that the original owner's goal was to selll them as a pair of potential pleasure slaves due to their unique similarities and generally appealing body characteristics. The original plan was to give them additional specific training as sex slaves that takes on the average about three months before complete satisfaction is practically guaranteed. As it turned out, I enrolled them in sex training at our own facility once I acquired ownership of them, and sold them to a super-rich Saudi Arabian who owned nothing but tall, well-hung white slaves and hugely muscled black slaves hung like bulls. The two brothers not only had to please their new owner whenever he wanted, but frequently had to stage exhibitions where the black slaves fucked them relentlessly for their master's amusement.
As my partner, Jake, always said, "it takes all kinds." He also claimed demand would never fall off despite the temporary ups and downs, because "everyone wants at least one slave under his roof." Jake claimed it was the job of Bartholomew & Smith, PC, to make that possible. "As long as we do that better than anyone else," he repeatedly stated, "we'll be rich and even... well known."
No wonder I honor Jack Bartholomew's memory. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have close to one billion dollars at the tender age of 49. Don't let anyone ever tell you there isn't money in slaves. If so, they're an imbecile when it comes to business!
THE END
[Your comments on this story are appreciated. (anonymous4371@juno.com)]