BIRTHRIGHT: Chapter Six

 
BIRTHRIGHT
by John Dee Cooper
© 2021

Chapter 6


“They're ready for you now, Sir,” said Zed when he'd finished shaving all three slaves.

Kurt and his two friends wandered over to examine the results of his labour.

“So what do you make of this fellow?” the Colonel asked, checking the smoothness of Frank’s shaved trunk and torso with his hand and giving his cock a playful squeeze.

Frank held himself steady and focussed his thoughts on keeping his up-stretched arms straight. He took a deep breath and tried to ignore the inquisitive fingers and excited chatter of the boys as they gathered round him.
        
It had never occurred to Kurt how much there was to consider when evaluating a slave. There was his weight, his height, his physical structure, not to mention his health, his manpower and his stamina. The boys took it in turns to explore every part of him, stroking and prodding and squeezing. They made him drop his arms and flex his muscles and suggested various uses for him. Chad thought he would be good for lifting and carrying because of his broad back and the bulk of muscle in his arms, but Bruno felt his bulging thighs and thick calves and suggested he be harnessed to a wagon.

“I was watching him from the truck. He's built like a horse.”
    
Frank had heard it all before. He’d come to terms with reality within a year of his enslavement. These rich boys in their comfortable clothes inhabited a world far beyond his reach or understanding. The only bond he had with them was the unbreakable bond of slavery. Any sense of anger or rebellion had been quashed long ago by the endless burden of punishment, hunger and pain. The only way to push through and survive was to buckle down like the rest of the slaves. Obedience is the key to survival, that’s the only truth a slave needs to know. His body belonged to them. They could do whatever they liked with it. But they could never touch the true spirit that lay hidden in his heart.

“How much did he cost?” asked the Colonel after signalling Frank to raise his arms again.

“I'm not sure,” said Kurt. “Father has an agent who handles all that. I think they were bankrupt stock, so we probably got them really cheap. There are six of them in the pack and two of them are puppies, like that one,” pointing to Danny, “so I suppose we saved money there. The plan is to work them flat out until the current job's done then sell them as a job lot to get as much of our money back as we can.”

“With a little more thought and effort,” suggested the Colonel, “you could groom them separately and sell them as single items to make a much bigger profit. You just need to study them and decide on their potential – shape them up a little. This one, for example, could fetch five times what you paid for him, with the right improvements.”
                        
This fired the boys' imaginations and for the next few minutes they talked about all the things they could do to maximise Frank's usefulness and improve his monetary potential.

“Have you thought about breeding?” asked the Colonel. “There's a lot of money to be made from a good stud. Kurt, why don’t you feel his testicles.”

The Colonel could sense his nephew's hesitancy and showed him what to do by cupping Frank's balls in his hand and squeezing them gently between his fingers to assess their size and texture.

“Now you try.”

Kurt had never handled a slave before. Whatever Uncle Conrad had said, to him they were still different to ordinary human beings. There was something dark and mysterious about them. He was even a little afraid of them, although he wouldn't have admitted that to anyone. He knew he had the right to do whatever he wanted with them, but the way this one towered over him with his thick muscular arms stretching upwards and his earthy smell – the thought of touching his private parts gave Kurt the creeps.
 
“Don't let him see you’re nervous,” said Uncle Conrad under his breath. “He knows you’re his Master. He expects to feel your hands on him.”

Kurt cautiously nudged the slave’s balls with his knuckles. They felt loose and heavy and he could see the slave’s tummy muscles quiver slightly as he turned his hand over and let the balls fall into the palm of his hand. He was close enough now to feel the warmth of the slave’s body and smell its musty odour. Tightening his grip, he rolled the balls between his fingers and watched the slave’s penis harden.

“This slave is mine,” he thought, his eyes wandering over the mountain of muscle and brawn that towered in front of him. “My strength is in owning him, controlling him, feeling his body respond to my touch. It’s what I’m born to – being the Master of such a creature. It feels good.”

Lifting his hand slightly, Kurt allowed the balls to slide across his palm. He was surprised to find them smooth and malleable. The Colonel told him that was because Zed had dusted them with powder after shaving them.

Frank tried to think it was nothing to him. But even after four years of slavery the humiliation still ran deep – the shame of having to let a boy the same age as Danny play with him like a toy, squeezing and rolling his balls around.

He could hear them chatting and laughing as they discussed his breeding potential, as though they could judge his potency simply from the size of his testicles. And now the Colonel was showing the boy how to weigh his cock by lightly cradling it in the flat his hand.

“Let it sit there. Don't put any pressure on it. If he's responsive you should feel it grow and lengthen. Then you can stroke the tip lightly until it's fully erect.”

Frank fought against it as long as he could, but the soft touch of the boy's hand under his shaft was too much for him. With dismay he felt it stiffen, jerk a few times then broaden out across the boy’s open palm.


Kurt was impressed. He took his hand away and let the cock stand out hard and rigid so that he was able to stroke it with the back of his hand and judge it's shape and texture. The sheer beauty of the slave's manhood fascinated him. It was the first time he'd ever felt that special joy that only the owner of a handsome, virile slave can know.

“He's frisky,” said the Colonel. “That means he’ll be good to play with as well as a profitable source of semen. Be sure that he doesn’t shoot any cum. It’s valuable stuff. You can get a good price for it so you don’t want him wasting it unnecessarily. Now slip this on him.”

The Colonel handed Kurt a heavy steel ring.
                                
“It’ll make his balls hang nicely.”

By now Kurt had got the better of his inhibitions so, grabbing hold of the slave’s ball sac, he calmly and methodically followed his uncle’s instructions, isolating a testicle and squeezing it through the steel ring. It was a tight fit and took a lot of manoeuvring. He had to press down hard with both thumbs till eventually it popped through, causing the slave to yelp and drop his arms. Zed, who was standing at the ready, cracked his whip and the arms shot back up again.    

Kurt chuckled. The slave’s little tantrum had proved that he was in control. He understood now that there was nothing unnatural about ignoring the slave’s feelings as he pulled down hard on the first ball to make room for the second. Again he had to use both thumbs, but the second one was far more fiddly. It got jammed half way through, and the slave winced and whined as Kurt struggled with it. With a final nudge it popped through, leaving both balls swinging large and heavy beneath the shiny steel ring. It was very neat. Kurt was pleased with the look of it.     
    
Frank was so relieved to be free of the boy’s mauling fingers that he wanted to weep. But he remained still and silent, feeling the weight of the ring tugging at his balls and his cock twitching in spite of his efforts to stop it. He stood as straight as an arrow his arms reaching upwards as though at any moment he could soar into the night sky and escape.

He only prayed that Danny hadn't seen him squirm and whine like a baby.

To be continued...