Francois

"White Pearls"

Chapter 2

Francois

One would think after a lifetime of working with slaves, I would have become blasé in my approach to them. After all, during my lifetime, I have encountered countless thousands of slaves and I could be excused for viewing them as no more than common livestock – which of course, they are! However, I have never lost my intense interest in any slave who passes through the “House of Malik”.

Slaves are unique creatures; each is an individual and worthy of my personal attention to ensure he meets the high expectations of my discerning clients and to that end, I personally appraise a slave’s body to ensure it accords to my standards and to evaluate his monetary worth to me.

I know of no other life without slaves. It is incomprehensible for me to consider a world where slavery doesn’t exist. This interest goes back to the very beginning of my consciousness when, even as a small boy, I trailed behind my late father of esteemed memory as he went about his business of marketing white, infidel slaves. My father had a deep antipathy towards the Franj and delighted in depriving them of their liberty and turning them into docile, subservient and submissive slaves. Naturally, his prejudices against the hated Nasrani profoundly influenced my own attitudes towards slaves and from an early age, I enjoyed taunting and jeering at the hapless, collared and shackled slaves cowering dejectedly in their pens as they fearfully awaited the inevitable trip to the auction-block.

I can recall as a boy, saving scraps of half chewed food from my meals and visiting the slave-pens where, I mirthfully teased the slaves by thrusting some tasty morsel through the bars of their prison only to quickly withdraw it at the last moment. It was comical to see the reaction of the slaves as I offered them food only to withhold it thus frustrating them. Eventually, I would toss a tasty morsel – a scrap of bread, a honeyed fig or a slice of melon - into the centre of the pen and laugh as the desperate slaves scrambled and fought one another amid a tangle of limbs, heaving arses and rattling chains to retrieve it.

Their action reminded me of the chimpanzee enclosure at the royal zoo and all the time, my indulgent father and his overseers encouraged me in my torment of the wretched slaves.

My proudest day was the one when my father presented me with my own whip with which I was able to lash a slave’s body. I quickly learned to use the whip effectively – helped by my father’s overseers – and used it on sale days to help drive the slaves from their holding-pens to the inspection yards and then finally onto the auction-block.

Naturally, this awakened my sadistic tendencies and my attitudes towards all infidel slaves has remained unchanged over the years.

Today, I take delivery of two new slaves who I believe are brothers from Canada. I have had the older sibling fastened to a stout wooden frame within an inspection chamber ready for my “hands-on” inspection and appraisal. There is nothing I enjoy more than examining the body of a newly arrived slave.

Naturally, all my slaves are of the highest standard but occasionally one stands out above all others. And such is the case with this new slave. As I enter the chamber, I am taken aback by his exquisite beauty. In fact, I am enraptured by him.

He stands restrained by his bonds which throws his superb musculature into sharp relief as he struggles to set himself free. There is a “wildness” about this new slave that interests me. His face shows defiance and yet his eyes reveal his fear of the unknown. His hair is dishevelled and a heavy stubble darkens his chin. His body is hirsute – but not unsightly so – and his torso gleams tantalisingly under a glistening sheen of sweat. Is he sweating from fear or from the exertions of his struggling? I smell the beautiful aroma of his sweat and it acts as an aphrodisiac on me. Within the confines of my burnous my cock lengthens, hardens and throbs with lustful desire.

I reach out and touch the slave and his reaction is that of all new slaves who, for the first time, feel the hands of their new masters, exploring their unprotected bodies. The slave “bucks’ like a nervous, unbroken colt at my touch but I quickly calm him by gently stroking his chest and belly. This helps him settle down and he now stands quivering as my eager hands roam freely over his slave nakedness.

Playfully, I tweak his delicious, generous sized nipples before my hands wander down over the flat, hard abdominal muscles to his cock and testicles. I gently gauge the size of his low hanging balls which hang lopsidedly and swing freely between his strong thighs before eagerly checking his responses to my touch by slowly masturbating him within the tight, hungry grasp of my fist. His cock is hot to the touch and once more, he begins to struggle against this insult to his body but his efforts are in vain. Despite himself, he quickly responds with a massive erection. Moment later, a long, silver thread of precum hangs precariously from his piss-slit as a sign of his own mounting lust.

As I said previously, I am enraptured by this slave and I take my time in exploring his body. Soon, he settles down and allows me to test the hardness of his superb musculature. His skin is warm, soft and pliable to the touch and I feel the pounding of his heart and the deep intake of oxygen as he nervously breathes and allows me to continue with my appraisal. However, the slave protests most strongly as I begin my inevitable examination of the most intimate part of his body. As I part his arse-cheeks and open his glorious “golden portal” to my probing finger, he loudly shouts his protests. Again, his protests are in vain. As yet, the slave is unaware that this is one of his most saleable assets and worth a small fortune to the House of Malik.

My examination proves this slave is a virgin and will be a wonderful fuck.

My appraisal of this new slave is now complete and I am well pleased with him. I now look forward to examining his younger sibling and hope that he is of a similar standard.

As I leave, I instruct my overseers to prepare the slave for future inspections.  His body hair will be permanently removed so that his glabrous, naked body can be better appreciated by its many viewers and in my mind’s eye, I see him scantily covered by a diaphanous loincloth that conceals nothing and suggests much.

The model in this picture is one of Amalaric's lesser known artworks entitled "Duke". I have always regarded it as one of his more "evocative" works. The text is mine.