Steve's First Job by Pete Brown petebrownuk @ yahoo.com
Read all of Pete's stories at Groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories
Part 10
Stu: Well I didn't manage to write to you, did I? A couple of days have gone by, and there's still trouble! I'd decided that the way to win was to have an entry that's so much better than any of the pony traps that they just have to give me the prize, and that the way to do this was to have all nine of them identical - well, eight near clones, and nine as some sort of "extra" but n the same theme. The problem is that although they're all basically similar in body size and shape, they've all got different coloured hair and different amounts of body hair and so on. And, of course, two and a couple of the others still have their 'skins whereas the rest are cut. It seemed sensible to have the three of them 'skinned, therefore, and I'd arranged for the veterinarian to come in and do it.
When two heard about it he went berserk, and stood there in the cage shaking at the bars and calling me all sorts of foul names. It's just as well it didn't happen when he was out of the cage, as otherwise he might have actually attacked me! The only thing to do was to reach in and stun him, and whilst he was unconscious to cuff his wrists to his collar, and muzzle him. I really don't understand what all the fuss was about, as it's not a serious operation - it's not as if I was taking one of his kidneys for a dialysis patient, or some of the other stuff they use slaves for now. His dick would still function - function better, in my opinion, afterwards. And he'd save time in the shower in the morning without having to clean under that 'skin..... It's not at all painful, either - in fact, down at the auction rooms if you want your slave 'skinned they just do it on the spot, without even a mild anaesthetic. But I'd paid my own money to have the veterinarian to come in and do it "humanely", with a shot into the dick first, and it was only supposed to take three minutes each and so the day's work wouldn't be affected. But now with two stunned and muzzled, all that was upset.
I had to get two of the other slaves to hold two still as the veterinarian operated - we had him on a horse, with one sitting on his thighs and one on his chest, and then he basically couldn't move as the 'skin was neatly cut around and the stitches to hold the cut ends together were put in - well, not stitches as such, but some sort of small mini-staples which automatically dissolve in three days. The little tool the veterinarian used was really neat - just click, click, click and the job was done. He advised a plaster around the wound, but only for one day, and then it was all over. I kept the little ring of skin that was cut off, as I thought I might dry it and add it to that bead necklace you've seen me wearing when I'm aggressively casually dressed. The others weren't that much trouble, as they'd seen what I did to two, and just stood there with their dicks on a low table as he did them. But there was further delay, of course, as I had to punish two - I mean, I could hardly let him get away with that sort of behaviour in front of the other slaves.
I'd undone two's cuffs as he' d calmed down a bit, and I told him that I'd only take the muzzle out if he understood that there was to be no discussion on what had gone on - I ought to have kept him muzzled all day, of course, but I needed him to keep the others doing their proper jobs as we worked and so it was in my interests to have him able to speak. He nodded, although with a sour expression, and so I told him that I'd just added two more strokes to his punishment for that piece of dumb insolence. I ordered him back on to the horse, but I decided to allow him to start to grow back the respect of the other slaves - who I don't think liked two's outburst - by not cuffing his wrists and ankles to the legs: he'd demonstrate that he was tough and could take the beating, and that he was obedient by standing there unshackled.
It takes a lot of physical effort to administer ten strokes of the cane, and by the time I'd done, I was pretty pissed off with two still. He'd stood there, just grunting as each blow hit, deliberately holding back his screams to "prove" his manhood to the others.
And I was worried that the livid red stripes all across his butt now might not fade in time for the County fair - I could hardly expect to win a prize with a slave who was so clearly disobedient that he needed that much punishment, could I? Still, it had to be done, and I have to say that for the rest of the day he was an example to them all, working even harder than usual, and taking control and really making my life easy. That night, though, I decided he still needed to be punished further, and so after all the others were fed and caged, I ordered him to come with me to my room in the BDQ. He stood there looking proud and defiant, his dick half erect as a result of the metal cock ring, and I said simply "You know what comes next, don't you, two? On your back, legs in the air, and hold your ankles...."
For an instant he looked as if he might be going to protest, but then he lay there as I'd ordered, and I took some time undressing and stroking my dick to erection. "This is going to hurt, two", I told him. "You're still resisting my authority, and that's got to stop. You're lucky to escape with a caning this morning, and now I'm going to fuck you, fuck you hard, and that striped ass will really feel it!". There' something special about fucking a man in that position anyway, as you can see the effect your dick is having by watching his face as you go in to him, and tonight I was rewarded by seeing how two desperately tried to control his features as he tried not to let me see that he was hating the fucking, and that it was hurting him a great deal: I had not bothered with stretching or lube of any kind, and the caning was already very sore without my body slamming into it all the time. I made no effort to be gentle and this was just a hard, fast, furious fuck, where I almost pulled right out on each stroke and then slammed back in. It was wild and exciting for me, then when I'd cum, I threw myself alongside two and lay there, exhausted, but almost laughing with happiness as I'd enjoyed it so much.
Two shifted uneasily alongside me, and I turned towards him and went to stroke his nipple, to show him I was no longer so cross with him. He almost drew away, and I felt my anger rising again. "Is something wrong, two", I almost snapped, and he muttered "No, sir. Not really." "Not really? I think there's something very wrong, two! Your attitude! That outburst this morning, then you deliberately didn't cry out tonight, you didn't participate, and that takes away some of my enjoyment. You knew that, didn't you? Is that the way a salve ought to behave?". He turned his handsome face towards me and said simply "You had me 'skinned, sir! You took away my manhood. That's not right, sir. You shouldn't have done that...."
"You stupid fucking slave", I snapped back. "You've just shown me how wrong I've been to try to treat you well, to let you almost be a sergeant again, instead of just treating you like one of the other slaves. Something I ordered done to you is 'not right'? How can something I order for a slave not be right? And I didn't 'take away your manhood' - you're just as much of a man now as you ever were, it's just that you'll look neater and tidier, and more like the other slaves. I need you all to look alike, and as I can't grow foreskins back on the five of you who were already cut, the three of you with 'skins needed to lose them. It's as simple as that - you're all my slaves, and if I want you all to have a certain 'look', that's what will happen. And if you ever protest, or defy me like that again, it won't just be your 'skin that you lose - it will be your balls; and that will REALLY mean you lose your manhood! Is that clear, two? And if you want to remain as my 'sergeant', I want to see a complete change in your attitude: it's not enough for a responsible slave like that just to obey, he has to accept his owner's orders, and communicate that acceptance to the others.
Is that all clear?"
He looked at me, and I could almost see him thinking. He could see that he ultimately couldn't win. And he did like being 'special'. He said quietly "Yes, sir", and then, without being ordered, half sat up, bent towards me, and started to clean my dick with that big sexy tongue of his. After he'd finished I was almost laughing as he'd kind of tickled me with his tongue, and he was smiling, too. I decided to do something I'd never done before and keep two with me all night. He was used to sleeping with other men of course, used to the way they move around and cry out in their sleep, but I wasn't and at first I found it hard to adjust to the solid warmth of him right next to me, and the sound of his breathing and the scent of his body.... But then he turned towards me and wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close to him, and I realised just how lucky nine was to have this fantastic man taking care of him like that. He put his arm under my head and generally moved our bodies until we were both comfortable. My face was so close to his I could feel his warm breath sighing over me, and I just felt very content, very safe.
I woke up at about three, and realised that two was still holding me, and that he was awake, lying there looking at my face. He saw me looking at him, and he just smiled quietly and then puled me closer to him, so that our erect dicks pressed into each other. I drifted back into sleep, utterly contented. Steve.
Steve: Sex isn't just about fucking, you know. It sounds to me as if you had a kind of sexual experience with two after you'd fucked him. He sounds a really nice guy, to have you 'skin him, then beat the shit out of him, then rape him again (he didn't want to do it, did he?), and still be so gentle with you. I think you're falling for this slave. Take care. Stu.
Stu: There you go again! "A really nice guy", "rape".... He's a slave, and lost the chance to be a "really nice guy" when he was captured. And as I've explained before, you can't rape a slave. And no I'm not falling for him - "You can't be friends with a slave", remember? But what do you know about sex - come on, Stu, stop trying to give me advice on that score!
But anyway, our little night of passion did seem to have one effect - when we got back from the route tonight and I put the next part of my plan into affect, the moment some of the others started a rumble of complaint, he really laid into them, verbally and physically, to tell them to shut up and obey. Steve.
Steve: Don't leave me in suspense! What is the plan?
Stu.
Stu: Oh, yes - I got so caught up in the execution of it that I forgot to mention it! The plan is to have all eight of the slaves to be "clones", as far as possible. Having the three of them 'skinned was the first step, and then I did the rest: I'd noticed that nine looked so totally different, so very young, so very vulnerable, when we'd had to shave off all his hair because of the crabs, and realised that if I did the same to the eight slaves, they'd be so much alike!
Without a trace of hair below the eyebrows, the similarities between them would be even more pronounced. And, of course, without thatches of hair on some of their chests and bellies, you'd be able to see their superb musculature so very much better. So it all had to go, every scrap, and I had the "grooms" who normally did the clipping and shaving in for a long session.
As I said, there was a lot of grumbling and complaining once they realised what was going to happen to them, but two quelled it all and just said that if it was my orders, then they had no choice. And when it was all over, I think some of them quite liked it - I saw them preening themselves in front of one of the mirrors, admiring the way their definition was now so much more pronounced. I thought it showed them off to perfection, especially as the glint of their steel cock rings tended to draw the eye down to their genitals - which, as I've also told you, are pretty nice anyway (for those of us who have an eye for such things!). When the grooms started on the next and final phase, though, even two looked a bit rebellious, but when he saw me fingering my cane, he just nodded, smiled faintly, and brought the others into line again.
Look, it's no good having all these near-clones from the eyebrows down, when they all had such very different hair - some smooth, some a little coarse, some dark, some that sexy dirty blond... I'd thought of having their skulls shaved as well as their bodies, but I'm not sure I like to see men with that totally bald look. Some would say the differences were pretty minor, as I always had them kept closely cropped (which they seemed to like, anyway, as they were ex-marines and so on), but then I hit on the ideal solution: I had the grooms trim and shave their heads so that they just had a three inch strip left down the centre - a Mohican cut, I think they used to call it.
But then I wanted them all dyed the same colour, and before you can do that you have to bleach all the natural colour out, and they hated standing there with that terrible smell of bleach hanging in the air as it did its work. I'd wondered whether I should have them all black, or all blond, but somehow there's a link between a guy's "natural" colour and his face and so on - or perhaps I was just imagining it, as I was so used to seeing them with their natural hair. Anyway, as a special touch, I had decided to have their hair dyed really dark green, the same colour as the paint on the dray! I thought it would really add that final touch, to see the dray and the slaves now so intimately a part of a set.
When I looked at them after it was all over it was somehow amazingly erotic - the eight big muscled men, dicks semi-erect, with this big streak of dark green across their skulls - I'd even had some of that wax brushed into it, to make sure the hair stood upright, rather like those old Roman soldiers' helmets. And nine looked sensational, too - even though he's fleshed out generally and put on some muscle, he somehow maintained that air of vulnerability, the more so as he was contrasted with the others. You know, Stu, I think I might try shaving all my pubes off - it's a look that suits our body types. Have you ever thought about doing it? Steve.
Steve: Oh my god! You're turning into some sort of costume artist and hairdresser! Still, isn't hairdressing one of those jobs that men like you go in for? (Joke, joke - you know I'm not prejudiced against gay guys). But no, I haven't thought about shaving my pubes, although after reading a note from you some time ago about how shaved balls are so much better, I have been doing mine since. You're right, of course ,that they feel so much smoother and silky and are so much nicer to stroke when you're jerking yourself off. And Mary-Lou, that first time we went to bed, was amazed that a red-blooded guy like me could show such consideration for his partner as to do that - she went down on me, Steve, before we began fucking seriously, and she said how nice it was not to end up with hairs trapped between her teeth! But I'm not sure the totally bare look would suit me - or you! We'll both see you tomorrow, for the fair. And I know I can rely on you not to break our confidences - Mary-Lou knows we jerked off, and she's OK about that as she knows all guys do it when they're growing up. But please don't say you know she goes down on me - it's another one of those things where "everyone" knows that women do that to guys, but you just don't talk about it. Stu.
Stu: Your secret's safe with me! But if you're happy to have Mary-Lou sucking your dick, why did you deny yourself the pleasure with me? We could have had so much more fun. And I'm told by those that have done both that a guy really does it SO much better than a woman - well, he would, wouldn't he, as he knows the effect he's causing.. Perhaps when it's "that time of the month", or she's travelling, we might pick up where we left off! You see I live in hope of having that body of yours next to mine again one day - but there's no hurry, I can wait!
Anyway I must go now as it's time to see to the slaves - I'm having them really clean the dray, and I mean really clean it: every tiny nook and cranny is being cleaned out, and they've got to give it five coats of polish tonight, to give it a real depth of shine. And finally they've got to give thmeselves the first coat of slave oil - I want their pelts with that deep, healthy glow tomorrow, and a good soaking tonight that has time to go into the skin will make sure that tomorrow morning's rub down will produce he required effect. I guess I'll catch up with you during the day. Steve.
Steve: I think you'll have to wait a long time to get to suck my dick! I really love Mary-Lou, you know. Good luck, all the best for tomorrow - you deserve to win, all the effort you're putting in. Stu.
Stu: Wow, what a weekend. I'm exhausted. It was good to see you and Mary-Lou and really sweet of her to kiss all the slaves like that when you finally found us in the winners' enclosure: it was so spontaneous, so quick, that they barely had time to react to those quick pecks on their cheeks before it was all over! But I know they all thought it was a fantastic gesture, and I could tell they were excited as they all had full erections for about an hour afterwards!
They did look great, though, didn't they? They shone with that deep glow from the slave oil, and the way their spiked green hair matched the dray so perfectly?
I'd got permission form Jon to have the morning off as potentially winning the competition would be such good publicity for us, but on the morning itself he even allocated another team to come with us! My guys sweated and strained to pick up their dray and put it on the other one, so we could get to the fair grounds without all their hard work in cleaning and polishing the dray being destroyed by the dirt on the roads. And they rode, too - it was a bit hard on the other team, but it also meant that my lot kept their glossy shine. You know, I think this is the first time that my slaves had done anything other than walk and run since they'd been captured and enslaved, so it was pretty novel for them to be sitting there on the dray being pulled along the streets they were so familiar with.
I was right about the "novelty" of entering a dray instead of the usual run of pony carriages, even the big ones that need teams of four to pull them. And of course my "clones" were a sensation, the more so as nine stood there on the dray with his legs spread and his arms above his head holding a big poster advertising our services! It was a bit hard on him, actually - you try standing for an hour in an "X", holding something high in the air, but I'd warned him that any failure was unacceptable and that if he faltered and cost us the prize, not only would I beat the shit out of him but I thought the other slaves would be pretty tough on him, too.
There was that amusing incident, too, when the judge went to pin the first prize rosette somewhere! I guess the pony carriages and stuff usually have some kind of harness or tunic on their slaves, so he was totally at a loss when faced with the nine completely nude slaves of mine. I explained hat they were all so well trained to my voice that there was no need of bits and harnesses, and I think I got a lot of goodwill from him (he's pretty important in the slave trade, and that might be a useful business contact). In the end, I suggested he slip the elastic on the rosette around two's dick and balls, so he was then standing there looking as if he was wearing a fig leaf - I think the judge enjoyed doing it, though, especially a two went so massively hard at the first touch! (I'd forbidden them sex for the past two days, and the slaves were all pretty much on edge). I think the press photographs are really good - all eight of them standing there smiling, two wearing the rosette, and nine crouching in front, still holding up our advertising sign. I was really proud of them, Stu.
After we'd chatted, I was kept pretty busy for the rest of the day talking to people who came past to inspect the winners, and all the slaves were on their best behaviour. Good old two asked me if they could do something special, and for most of the day they trotted up and down the arena giving kids (and their parents, for the very young ones) rides on the dray. We got a huge amount of good will from the public, and I'm sure we'll do additional business as a result. Some old fuddy-duddies did complain to me about the fact that the slaves were almost continuously erect, but although I was polite to them I did have to explain that it didn't matter, as it was only slaves who were on display, after all (I did feel just the tiniest bit guilty about this as in addition to forbidding them sex for the past tow days, I'm mixed some Cialis tablets - those are the things that give old men erections - into their morning feed). I suppose I could have allowed them to jerk off, but there are limits still, I think: the public will tolerate naked slaves, but slaves stroking their dicks in public is still a bit advanced, at leas for down here.
When we got back to the depot, the slaves were very tired, but happy. And I fed them a double ration, and gave them slave treats in appreciation. I hung the rosette on the door of their cage so that all the other slaves would know that these guys were champions, as boosting morale like that is so important. But then, as I was about to lock the cage door and leave, I felt so sad - we'd trained together, had a fantastic day as a team, and now I was going to have to leave whereas they could continue celebrating way into the night, together as a team. I think two recognised this, and he said softly to me "Aren't you going to fuck, sir?" and when I said that I thought it was better to leave them all together as they'd want to celebrate with their buddies, he lowered his had and said "but you're part of the team, sir. You're the team leader". Well I think he knew that I knew that he was not telling the entire truth - he was the team leader, whereas I was the manager! He was the sergeant who made it all run smoothly, and I was the officer who gave the orders. He saw my reluctance, and went on "Sir, why don't you join us? You'll be quite safe, sir, I'll see to that."
I trusted him, Stu. I don't suppose there was much real danger actually as any slave who injured or even killed a free man would be put to death immediately and they all knew that. But might they think it was worth a public whipping to gang rape me, for example?
Still, I'm pretty impulsive sometimes, as you know, and I did trust two - if he said he'd make sure I was safe, I probably would be. So I stripped off my shirt and shorts, and went into the cage. It was the most amazing night of my life, Stu. I don't know how I can describe to you what it felt like to really be so much part of a team of guys who had really achieved something - it wasn't just the fact of the esprit de corps, or that they were all so happy having had double rations and slave treats, or that they were all primed up and ready for a great night of sex: each of these things was important in itself, but it was the combination of all of them that made it so sensational.
At first I'd felt a bit ashamed, actually, as I knew that my body just couldn't compare to theirs - not even to nine's, as although he'd started off very much like you and me, the exercise and so on had really improved him. So here was I, a skinny, pale guy right in the middle of all these strong, tanned gorgeous hunks - it was like some sot of erotic fantasy I was having. The only way I compared was in the dick department, where you know I've got absolutely nothing to be ashamed of! It was two who really welcomed me, though - he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me, then dropped to his knees to take my dick in his mouth and really excite me until I was leaking pre-cum. Then he gently laid me down in the straw amongst the rest of them and then it was perfectly all right - it felt so great to be surrounded by all these fantastic men, and soon I was rutting away with the rest of them (and, incidentally, showing them that it wasn't only slaves who had the stamina to fuck most of the night!).
I woke up this morning pressed face to face with two, with some other slave's dick pushing at my ass crack. None of them had fucked me, of course, but I just felt so good to have had such a bonding experience. But even as I lay there I knew that this couldn't be - I could allow this one night, this special night, but that discipline demanded that I became once more the manager, the officer. Two saw that I was awake, and I kissed him gently, stroked his dick one last time, then got to my feet and left the cage, locking it behind me (it was pretty irrelevant to lock it at all, actually, as none of the slaves would try to escape really, but we did it to make sur our insurance policy
was valid . And, of course, it does remind the slaves that they have no freedom.) I saw him nodding, as he knew that the regular order of things was restored. Steve.
Steve: Wow! And I thought I was having great sex! Look, Steve, we want you to be the first to know. We haven't told anyone else yet - not even my mom and dad. Before I caught the train back to Atlanta on Sunday afternoon I proposed to Mary-Lou, and she accepted me. She's the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with, and there's no point in delaying. I know you'll be happy for us. Stu.
Stu: Wow!, as you say. That's a bit sudden, isn't it? It's so soon after Inga. But yes, of course I'm happy for you, for you both. And, Stu, that's the first time you've done it, I think - you and Mary-Lou are "we" in your note. I think that's a good sign for the future. When's the wedding? I assume you'll want me to be the "best man", and all that stuff about the stag night, and the speech.....? Steve.
Steve: Dad was pretty upset when I called him, after I'd e-mailed you. He wanted me to wait until I'd finished college. And he says, as you did, that it was pretty damned quick after Inga. But the real reason, the unspoken reason, but one we both knew we were hovering around, is that Mary-Lou is not "one of us", not from one of the families in the town with the money and the power. The fact that she's spontaneously happy, has a great personality, gets on well with everyone, and is a joy to be around, seems to be of no consequence compared to the fact that her dad isn't in the Rotary Club, her mom doesn't play at the Bridge Club, and all that other stuff. I hate to say it, Steve, but my parents really are bigots - I know now how it must have felt all those years ago when a guy would have to tell his parents that he wanted to marry a nigga. Stu.
Stu: Or, more recently, to tell HIS parents that he wasn't going to marry anyone, not ever - for obvious reasons! Steve.
Steve: Dad huffed and puffed and went on and on, and even did the stuff you see in old movies, threatening to cut me off without a penny. But I didn't get cross, and instead played him at his own game - I told him about the way that I needed to "save" myself for marriage, about the lord telling us about the importance of marriage, and all that crap. And that I wasn't strong enough to resist the temptation of the devil (ha, ha.... I hadn't resisted the temptation for one second after I'd met Mary-Lou, as you know!). He tried to pray for me, over the phone, Steve, and it was just as well it was "sound only" as I was able to press the "mute" switch so he couldn't hear me laughing. After about ten minutes I told him that I'd prayed to the lord, and that I'd heard the lord tell me that it was my duty to marry Mary-Lou right now! That's the basic problem with all this religious stuff, isn't it - if you believe in it, someone else can simply lie and you've no way of knowing that as you're so used to just accepting all the religious stuff as the truth! But it worked for me now, and the wedding is going to be in two weeks time - which is just as well, as there's a little Stu on the way. Stu.
Stu: Oh my god! You don't waste any time, do you? Still, you always shot a huge load, and I guess you're pretty fit and fertile.... Many, many congratulations. What do I need to do to get this show on the road? Kiss Mary-Lou for me, and tell her that she can rely on me. And that she'd better be very careful, as if she ever does anything to upset my oldest and best buddy, I'll never forgive her. Steve.
P.S. You're making progress, so the day when as a married man you decide to pick up on "proper" sex again draws closer. I'm waiting! Steve.
(There's a gap in the record here - I seem to remember there was a great flurry on e-mails backwards an d forwards as Stu didn't want to miss any classes, and so I had to make most of the arrangements for the wedding. It seemed easier to file all these "wedding" notes in a separate log, and, like all the rest of the stuff, this was destroyed. The one log that survived skips these two weeks, and resumes later.)
Stu: Can I still send notes to you, or are they now to "Mr and Mrs"? There might be some things I want to tell you that I don't want Mary-Lou to hear.
I never though I'd cry at a wedding, and it wasn't just that it felt as if I was losing you, Stu - no, that poem of yours that you had me read out, and then the one that you read to Mary-Lou, had almost the whole congregation in tears. You certainly have a talent for understanding the human condition, and then getting it down on paper. But I can see now that I'm not losing you - it will be different, sure. You know I was worried about that when you were going with Inga, but with Mary-Lou I'm much less worried. You're so clearly happy, Stu, so deliriously, irrationally, totally happy. And Mary-Lou is, too. And when you both hugged me afterwards, it was almost like that incredible night when I truly bonded with my slaves. Steve.
Steve: No, old buddy, you're writing to me. I don't have secrets from Mary-Lou, but there might be things I want to say, too, as you do - or, rather, there may be ways I want to say things - that are best kept private between us. I was touched and moved, Steve, by the way you arranged everything, and by the speech you gave at the reception. And Mary-Lou and I were truly delighted when we came out of the church and there were all your slaves holding up those floral arches for us to process under - they looked magnificent, with those garlands of fresh flowers hiding their collars and toning so well with the bridal flowers. It was a nice touch, too, to have nine backing down the path in front of us strewing rose petals for us to walk on. And this time, when we were to ride together on that dray of yours, you put Mary-Lou in the middle as we made our way to the reception, not as you did with Inga! It certainly was different, all decked out in the flowers to match the salves' collars - although Mary-Lou says she almost died laughing when she saw your slaves looking faintly embarrassed by those big white satin bows you'd tied around their dicks!
On a more serious note, I think you know that the first poem I read out at the ceremony, where ostensibly I'm talking about friendship and companionship generally, was directed at you? My poem to Mary-Lou was personal, and if things were a little less prejudiced, I'd have made the poem to you personal, too. But we both wanted you to know that we love you, Steve. So every time you read "Thoughts on friendship", or every time you hear it read out - I feel certain that it's one of my works that will echo on down the years - remember that the "you" in it is YOU, Steve. All our love. Stu.
Stu: I feel as if my heart is almost breaking. As well as all the preparations for your wedding, I was working away on a proposal and business plan for the way that the whole of our local distribution system ought to be reorganised. Dad wanted me to take it to the Board, and although I had the ideas all in place, getting all the supporting figures and stuff together, and then putting it into a concise presentation, a board-level presentation, was really tough. I'm not used to standing up ands peaking in front of a room full of people, either (I don't think your wedding reception counts, as everyone there was so full of love and happiness for you that I could have said anything and they'd still have had tears in their eyes!).
I was really nervous, I can tell you, in that big board room on Fifth Avenue - even though dad had rehearsed me, on the flight up But they accepted it, Stu: the idea that we should go with the new "model" I'd invented of having a ninth slave on the dray to sort the packages and deliver the smaller ones. The savings were so enormous, and the benefits so compelling! Earlier deliveries, and a huge saving from the disposal of surplus slaves as we needed fewer drays, or the avoidance of future costs as purchases of new slaves could be reduced as the business grew.
By the time we got back home, Head Office had already issued implementation instructions, and Jon had begun.
We had to lose four drays from that depot, and as my dray would be without a driver because I was to move on, it was one of those chosen: oh yes, I haven't told you - dad was so pleased by the work I'd put in to prepare such a professional business plan that he wants me to go to Harvard, as he says that the future CEO of the company ought to be well educated. Jon had done the other thing I'd recommended, and all the drivers had had to "rank" their slaves from one to eight in terms of their ability to work, their responsiveness, their willingness to obey orders, and so on. Number eight on this scale on each dray was going to be disposed of, and his place "back filled" from some of the slaves on the four totally surplus drays.
A lot of my slaves "survived", Stu, but two was up for disposal! I argued with Jon, but he took me to one side and talked it all through quietly. Although two was a superb worker and was highly valued in organising other slaves, he'd failed disastrously on the ranking for "willingness to obey orders". It was felt that although he did obey, is was more out of personal loyalty to me rather than because of his acceptance of his slavery. Well, I could hardly argue with that, could I? And Jon pointed out that a new driver might not be able to gain that same personal loyalty, and then there would be a potential disaster - so two had to be amongst the slaves they were selling.
I told Jon that I'd buy two as my personal slave, Stu.
But he looked at me and said straight out "No, Steve.
I know you're pretty headstrong, but take my advice on this one. Listen to me, for once: you're set for great things, I believe. But if you fall for a slave, you'll never achieve your full potential. You need all your energy, all your efforts, to be focussed in the next few years on climbing the corporate ladder - although your dad is a Regional Director, that will make it harder, if anything, rather than easier for you. You don't have time, Steve, to worry about a slave like two. Do you want to get to the end of your life, Steve, and wonder what you might have achieved if you'd only been totally focused?". I wondered what it would feel like to get to the end of my life and wonder what it would have been like to be with two! It was a tough call.
As I left the depot for the last time, as dad had decided I should move to regional head office to see how things worked there before I went to Harvard, two was about to leave, too. He was standing there in the rain, his head bowed in misery, waiting for the slave transporter to take him off to be auctioned. I almost went over to him, but had I done so I know I'd have broken down and gone along with him, and bought him. So I ignored him, Stu. And it was the hardest thing I've ever done. Think of me, alone, and miserable. Steve.
End Of Part Ten.