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Authors: Sean O'Kane
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backs and eyes cast down, by their beds as Hank entered.
Brian and Carlo inspected the squad slaves minutely, and with Hank’s encouragement.
“Hey, I want you guys to know your slaves are going in with some pretty good stock. We’re gonna win this one!” he said.
After half and hour or so, Carlo was happy to agree. Both he and Brian were impressed with the skin and muscle tone of the slaves and their obvious obedience. Deliberately they tweaked and squeezed nipples and breasts, trying to get a protest from any of the slaves. They rummaged their fingers hard in vagina after vagina but never provoked even the softest moan of pleasure, despite the warm moistness of their enthusiastic response to the explorations of their bodies.
Brian remembered very clearly the main disciplinary tool of the Salazar stable; the dreaded ‘special’ and it had certainly produced a well drilled squad. The ‘special’ consisted of a girl being strapped with her back against a board out on the training ground. She was spread in the X shape and her breasts were bound in wet rawhide straps. Then she was left to wait as the hide dried and tightened around her breasts until they were swollen and shiny with constriction. Only then were they beaten.
There was usually at least one ‘special’ administered every day, just to keep the slaves’ minds focused.
“You wanna see how they take the whip?” Hank asked after Brian and Carlo had wandered through three of the dorms and assessed around forty naked and obedient slaves.
“Sure. Thanks,” Carlo said. It was really the only thing left to reassure themselves about. “You want to check one of ours out?”
Hank grinned disarmingly. “Hey, everyone knows CSL breeds ‘em tough,” he replied. “But, yeah, why not. It’ll encourage the guys to know what backup we’ve got for this show.”
He pointed at a tall black-haired girl with the number 71 stencilled on her hip. “Take that one down and have her flogged till I say stop,” he told one of his guards. The girl padded forwards, eyes down but with her shoulders square and her back straight. Brian was impressed.
The tour continued and they were shown the rooms on the ground floor where the slaves would be played with by those guests who could afford to hire them in the evenings. They even saw the kitchens busily clearing away after breakfast, before Hank led them back to the courtyard. From a short beam projecting horizontally from one wall the girl had been ankle suspended with her arms left free so that her entire length hung in front of the man administering the flogging. He stopped when they appeared and wiped some sweat from his eyes, in front of the men the girl’s body swung gently but she made no noise apart from heavier than usual breathing.
Brian hunkered down to take a closer look at her face and test the hardness of her nipples. Above him he heard the guard tell Carlo that she had taken thirty-three lashes so far, from a stock whip. Beneath his fingers the nipples were as hard as he could have wished and her eyes were clear and untroubled. He stood up and grasped her hips, turning her body to survey the ridged and furrowed back and shoulders.
“That’s really very impressive, Hank,” he admitted.
“Glad you think so! Double her up and let Mr Suarez see how ours take ass whipping,” Hank responded, smiling broadly.
The guard administering the flogging stepped forwards and grasped the girl’s wrists, pulling them up until he could clip them to the same ring her ankles were fixed to. She was neatly parcelled with her already beautifully marked back stretched tight on one side, on the other she displayed the backs of her thighs and her buttocks. Carlo plunged his fingers into the pouting split purse of her vulva, squeezed between the tops of the thighs and pronounced her well lubricated.
“She’s good and supple, you’ll note,” Hank pointed out proudly as the flogging resumed, the heavy leather making the
Brian and Carlo inspected the squad slaves minutely, and with Hank’s encouragement.
“Hey, I want you guys to know your slaves are going in with some pretty good stock. We’re gonna win this one!” he said.
After half and hour or so, Carlo was happy to agree. Both he and Brian were impressed with the skin and muscle tone of the slaves and their obvious obedience. Deliberately they tweaked and squeezed nipples and breasts, trying to get a protest from any of the slaves. They rummaged their fingers hard in vagina after vagina but never provoked even the softest moan of pleasure, despite the warm moistness of their enthusiastic response to the explorations of their bodies.
Brian remembered very clearly the main disciplinary tool of the Salazar stable; the dreaded ‘special’ and it had certainly produced a well drilled squad. The ‘special’ consisted of a girl being strapped with her back against a board out on the training ground. She was spread in the X shape and her breasts were bound in wet rawhide straps. Then she was left to wait as the hide dried and tightened around her breasts until they were swollen and shiny with constriction. Only then were they beaten.
There was usually at least one ‘special’ administered every day, just to keep the slaves’ minds focused.
“You wanna see how they take the whip?” Hank asked after Brian and Carlo had wandered through three of the dorms and assessed around forty naked and obedient slaves.
“Sure. Thanks,” Carlo said. It was really the only thing left to reassure themselves about. “You want to check one of ours out?”
Hank grinned disarmingly. “Hey, everyone knows CSL breeds ‘em tough,” he replied. “But, yeah, why not. It’ll encourage the guys to know what backup we’ve got for this show.”
He pointed at a tall black-haired girl with the number 71 stencilled on her hip. “Take that one down and have her flogged till I say stop,” he told one of his guards. The girl padded forwards, eyes down but with her shoulders square and her back straight. Brian was impressed.
The tour continued and they were shown the rooms on the ground floor where the slaves would be played with by those guests who could afford to hire them in the evenings. They even saw the kitchens busily clearing away after breakfast, before Hank led them back to the courtyard. From a short beam projecting horizontally from one wall the girl had been ankle suspended with her arms left free so that her entire length hung in front of the man administering the flogging. He stopped when they appeared and wiped some sweat from his eyes, in front of the men the girl’s body swung gently but she made no noise apart from heavier than usual breathing.
Brian hunkered down to take a closer look at her face and test the hardness of her nipples. Above him he heard the guard tell Carlo that she had taken thirty-three lashes so far, from a stock whip. Beneath his fingers the nipples were as hard as he could have wished and her eyes were clear and untroubled. He stood up and grasped her hips, turning her body to survey the ridged and furrowed back and shoulders.
“That’s really very impressive, Hank,” he admitted.
“Glad you think so! Double her up and let Mr Suarez see how ours take ass whipping,” Hank responded, smiling broadly.
The guard administering the flogging stepped forwards and grasped the girl’s wrists, pulling them up until he could clip them to the same ring her ankles were fixed to. She was neatly parcelled with her already beautifully marked back stretched tight on one side, on the other she displayed the backs of her thighs and her buttocks. Carlo plunged his fingers into the pouting split purse of her vulva, squeezed between the tops of the thighs and pronounced her well lubricated.
“She’s good and supple, you’ll note,” Hank pointed out proudly as the flogging resumed, the heavy leather making the
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