Andy

“OBADIAH”S NEW SEDAN CHAIR”

This is a story of erotic fiction meant for mature readers and should only be read by adults over the age of eighteen years

Written by Jean-Christophe, July, 2010

Note:

Currently, as we enter a new decade, I am re-organising my files and I came across this long forgotten short story which was a "follow-up" to my very first two stories - "An Object Of Desire" and "The Aftermath" -  that I wrote back in 2009.

I recall at the time, receiving messages from readers as to what happened to Andy and Toby and I wrote this epilogue a result of those enquiries.

 “Obadiah’s New Sedan Chair”

Obadiah Clements is beside himself with excitement.

His new sedan chair is everything he expects of it and he is fulsome in his praise of it to the carriage maker responsible for its construction. In fact, it surpasses his most fanciful wishes and it truly is a thing of beauty. Mind you that didn’t just happen. No indeed not -for he’d put much thought into its design and construction.                                      

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Advancing years is something most people dread and Obadiah is no exception. Physically, the years haven’t been kind to him although, if he is perfectly truthful with himself he’d have to admit his debauched lifestyle has contributed substantially his present deplorable condition.

He is grossly overweight to such an extent that his mobility is severely limited and the mere act of walking challenges his resolve and endurance. Life for Obadiah is now so sedentary that he relies on his young, body slaves to assist him in all aspects of his daily life. Each morning, they are required to wrestle him out of his oversized bed – especially constructed to accommodate his huge bulk – and struggle to get him into the shower where they shave and bathe him before dressing him for the day.

Some time back, having reached the stage where he could no longer bear to catch a glimpse of his own image, he’d had all the mirrors removed from his home. Last time he’d stood before a mirror he’d been repulsed by his own grotesqueness.  Staring back at him from below a shiny, bald dome were two narrow, hooded eyes buried deep in a suet-pudding face and he was ashamed. Were those two sagging breasts resting on top of that enormous belly – whose overhang obscured his shrivelled, genitalia - really his? 

Even within the shower it was necessary for his body slaves to raise his arms above his head – the effort being too great for his wheezing constitution and the hanging folds of underarm fat had disgusted him. And the rear view was no less flattering – the sagging arse cheeks reminded him of an ageing elephant he’d once seen at a circus performance.

As he looked upon his reflection, he was overcome with sadness. Was this really him? Where is the handsome, young Adonis of his youth; has his former beauty really deteriorated into the heaving mound of blubber staring back at him from out of the mirror?

Obadiah had lived the good life. Born to riches, he’d always indulged his passions for the arts, an insatiable appetite for fine dining and young, male slaves. His considerable wealth had allowed him to over-indulge all three passions.

A self-professed patron of the arts and a connoisseur of fine foods and good wines, his knowledge of the theatre, music, the fine arts and good dining is prodigious and he is recognised as the city’s leading arbiter of “good taste”. His views are in constant demand and none of the city’s elite would ever consider making a decision on any of these matters until they have sought his opinions.

Why only recently, hadn’t young Andrew Trevorrow sought his opinion on a bronze work of two nude wrestlers by Anthony Varro. Andrew had sought his advice – which he’d readily given – and made the purchase for some exorbitant figure. Foolishly, Andrew had allowed himself to be beguiled by the naked wrestlers – and Obadiah has to admit they are superb- but in his expert opinion they were greatly overpriced and he’d said as much. But it seemed Andrew was determined to own them and had found it necessary to sell four of his best slaves, including his farm steward Toby to finance its purchase.

Andrew Trevorrow’s decision proved fortuitous for Obadiah for he’d purchased Toby who now serves as one of his body slaves.  Toby is a sheer delight. His superb body enraptures Obadiah and he daily orders Toby into his bed. In fact, Toby sleeps on the floor alongside his bed and his first duty of the day is to clamber up onto the bed and crouch between Obadiah’s monstrous thighs and use his mouth to service his master’s cock.

Obadiah is well aware of Toby’s repugnance at being used in this way and really half of the enjoyment for him is in this knowledge. Toby of course is a slave and hasn’t any option but to submit to Obadiah’s will and the sight of Toby’s head bobbing between his outstretched legs is one that he savours every morning.  This is enhanced by the pattern of cane strokes that Toby wears perpetually on his back and arse. Really is there a more satisfying sight for a master than to see his slave carry the marks of his chastisement so prominently and Toby carries them beautifully? Of course, Toby isn’t alone in this; all his slaves carry similar markings on their bodies. Obadiah never spares the cane on his slaves. Otherwise how would he maintain order among his slaves and peace and harmony within his household?

To date, Obadiah’s favoured means of transport is the elaborate litter that he uses on all his outings. Long ago; he’s eschewed his pony trap for it. The litter is unique in that no other resident of the city uses one. He knows some people consider his use of it as eccentric while others see it as flamboyant or even worse as shameless ostentation. But he doesn’t care; as he reclines back among the silken cushions and is shaded by the matching canopy, he delights in watching the eight, naked, litter bearers straining under their impossibly heavy load. It is empowering to watch these slaves – four on either side of the litter – struggle to maintain their equilibrium for fear of incurring his wrath. And how erotic it is to see the stress both the litter and his bulk place on their powerful back and arm muscles.  And then there is the heady, masculine scent of their copious sweating. How fascinating to watch as it beads on their shoulders and chests before trickling down through their arse cracks or to drip from the ends of their cocks. Yes there is much to be said for using a litter as a means of conveyance.

Once or twice, Obadiah had used Toby as one of his litter bearers and had even used him to help carry him out to Andrew Trevorrow’s unveiling of the two wrestlers and as they entered the grounds of the slave’s former home he’d noticed the tears flowing down his cheeks. As Andrew Trevorrow hurried forward to welcome him, he ignored his former slave and Obadiah wondered what Toby’s thoughts were.

The evening was a glittering, gala affair to which only the city’s elite had been invited and it seemed that the proud owner of Varro’s latest work had spared no expense in introducing it to public. Even by Obadiah’s standards, the evening affair was “overdone” but he hadn’t the heart to say so to his host. Andrew had tried so hard to hide his farmer’s gaucheness and to appear a sophisticated connoisseur of the arts.

He’d been invited by Andrew to unveil the statue and to speak to the gathering.  And Obadiah had fulfilled that role admirably. He’d been at his most pompous best and as always he’d played to his appreciative audience with a combination of his self professed knowledge of the arts and some humour. Really, he hadn’t minded obliging Andrew. To get that close to Varro’s wrestlers was a privilege and he’d been quite envious of his host and this had piqued him. Really such am objet d’art was too good to be left in the hands of a dilettante art collector. It rightfully belonged with a collector of his stature.

Recently, Obadiah had felt like a change – but a change from or to what he didn’t know. He only knew that he was bored and needed a project to lift his jaded spirits. And for some unknown reason he knew Toby should be part of this change. 

He thought long and hard about this until, almost at the point of admitting defeat, he chanced upon a picture of a sedan chair of the type used by the wealthy in the seventeenth century.  As he looked at the picture, he had a delightful vision of him being ferried throughout the city in such a novel conveyance. The fact that it would be borne by two, powerfully built, naked slaves added to his pleasurable thoughts and for the first time in ages he felt a spontaneous stirring in his loins. This both surprised and delighted him.  It had been so long since this had happened and increasingly, he’d become more and more dependent on Toby to keep his “spirits up”.

 He knew immediately that he’d found his new project. He would have a sedan chair constructed for his use and Toby would be one its bearers.

Excitedly, Obadiah had hurried off to the city’s leading carriage-maker and told him of his plans for the sedan chair. This hadn’t surprised the carriage builder; after all he’d made the litter that Obadiah now uses. The builder listened patiently as Obadiah outlined his preferences.

The chair Obadiah requires is to be made of the finest materials and richly upholstered but it must have transparent panels that give Obadiah unrestricted views of the chair’s bearers; for him part of the enjoyment of travelling in the chair would be to observe them in action. The panels are to be both weatherproof and tinted to protect him from the harsh sun.  Can the carriage maker build him such a chair? The answer is – nothing is impossible and yes the chair can be made.

Succinctly, the builder suggests that the frame for the chair needs to be made from strong, lightweight materials. He is a compassionate man and feels for the two unfortunate slaves who’ll bear the intolerable burden of their master’s weight.  As he looks at the eight, kneeling litter-bearers who’d carried their master here, he is glad that he’d used this same technique in the litter’s construction.

The unhappy slaves are greatly stressed; their powerful chests heave and their bellies bellow as their oxygen starved lungs gulp for air. Their mighty limbs quiver like jelly and they are sweating profusely from the heat of the day. As he looks upon their striped backs it’s obvious that Obadiah abuses his slaves and he is overcome with pity for their distress. Diplomatically, he asks Obadiah if he’d like one of his slaves to water the litter-bearers as they discuss their plans for the new chair.

Obadiah – never one to consider his slaves’ comfort - dismissively agrees to allow his slaves to be watered.

The carriage-maker, like the rest of the city is well aware of Obadiah’s voyeurism and suggests that the internal seating could be made interchangeable in that Obadiah can travel facing either forward or backward. This way Obadiah will be able to observe the back of the slave in front or the front of the slave in back – depending on his mood of the moment. This hadn’t occurred to Obadiah but he enthusiastically agrees and compliments the carriage-maker for his suggestion.

Time moved slowly for Obadiah as he waited for his new chair and it was hard for him to contain his impatience for it to be completed. But today he has taken delivery of it and he is enthralled with it. As he and its maker inspect the finished chair his enthusiasm for it is boundless. The carriage-maker has excelled and the chair is truly a thing of beauty. The decorative, mahogany frame compliments the sparkling, transparent wrap around panels and the plush interior is richly lined with midnight blue velvet and gold trimming. The carrying bars at both front and rear are exquisitely carved with mythological creatures – hinting at Obadiah’s artistic tastes - and there are gold coloured chains for the slaves’ wrists.

Obadiah is absolutely delighted with his new chair and can’t compliment its maker enough. True the final cost of the chair was greater than he’d first thought but as he stands looking at it any concerns about his extravagance melt away. After all he is rich and why shouldn’t he indulge himself.

Finally, Obadiah has his new sedan chair. All that remains now is to find the fortunate slaves who’ll become his bearers. He already has one bearer – Toby. It only remains to find a slave to pair with him.                                                        

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Obadiah has received word from the slave-dealer, Dave Matheson that he has a slave who will meet his requirements as a chair mate for Toby. A new slave has just been delivered into his hands for processing into slavery and for sale at next Saturday’s auction and from what Dave Matheson has told him the slave meets all his requirements.

The slaver has arranged a “private” viewing for Obadiah and he is on his way there now. He looks out from his litter as Toby struggles to keep pace with the more experienced litter-bearers. He has brought Toby with him so that he can compare the new slave along side of him.  But he doesn’t doubt they’ll be a perfect match for he knows this new slave quite well for he is no other than Andrew Trevorrow.

Things had gone badly with Andrew.  Foolishly he’d borrowed heavily against this year’s harvest which had failed dramatically because of the current drought. He’d borrowed to indulge his delusions of artistic grandeur and his obsessive desire to possess the two bronze wrestlers. Even more foolishly, he’d sold his farm manager, Toby to help pay for its cost. . It’s doubtful if Toby could have saved his master from the calamity that has now befallen him but perhaps – just perhaps - he could have limited its impact and bought valuable time for Andrew to re-organise his affairs. As it was, without Toby’s expertise and sagacity, Andrew Trevorrow was doomed.

Without an income from his crops and unable to repay the enormous sums of money he’d borrowed at exorbitant rates of interest, his creditors moved quickly to have Andrew declared a bankrupt. His farm, his possessions and his slaves were all seized and sold off to help repay some of his debts.

As is usual in these s cases, Andrew Trevorrow appeared before the courts and as a bankrupt was sentenced to servitude for the term of his natural life. Stripped of his freedom and with all his worldly possessions gone, Andrew Trevorrow is now known by the abbreviated “Andy” - a name more in keeping with his new status as a slave.

Shocked at his reversal of fortune he stands naked and shackled to an inspection podium awaiting the arrival of a potential buyer. He has no idea who that buyer might be and Dave Matheson hasn’t told him. As a slave he hasn’t that right. So he is left to tremble fearfully and to sob noisily as he contemplates his future.

Obadiah supposes they’ll be great interest shown in the slave Andy. After all, as Andrew Trevorrow, he had tried hard to impress himself upon the city’s “glitterati’ and to break into circles that were way beyond his social pretensions. No doubt there are many people who will want to own him for that fact alone. But Obadiah is determined to buy Andy as a slave to pair with Toby and his wealth will allow him to do so.

Momentarily, he feels a tinge of sympathy for Andrew Trevorrow; but not for long. Foolish boy! Through his own stupidity, he deserves what is happening to him. If only he’d stuck with farming and allowed Toby to continue to manage his affairs then all would be well for him. He’d still be free instead of a slave.

 Still, it’s fortuitous for Obadiah that the slave Andy has come on the market at this time. He’ll make a great companion for Toby as they struggle to carry his new chair around town while he sits back in cushioned comfort and watches them in their labours. Lasciviously he licks his lips at the thought of their magnificent, sweat streaked, naked bodies straining under the weight of his chair. And there is a certain irony in all this that perhaps won’t be lost on Andy; the fact that he is now a slave of equal status with a slave he’d once owned. This thought titillates him.  From somewhere deep within, a loud chuckle rumbles causing his ample girth to tremble.

But before that, he has another task for them to perform. He will use the two slaves to mount the Anthony Varro bronze of the two wrestlers on a plinth in the middle of his courtyard. By the greatest stroke of luck he’d managed to buy it the liquidation sale of Andrew Trevorrow’s possessions for a faction of its real value.

 Now there is real irony in that. Well at least for the slave Andy.

The End.

 Origin of the photo used is unknown and found on the internet.