Slaves and Studs Pt. 01

Seeing him lock onto the equine, The Engineer launched in.

"This product is very interesting," the salesfur said, drawing himself up tall as if he thought that he had finally spotted the slave that would catch Boglan's attention. "He is six feet and four inches in height, a good size, and has been put through a rigorous training routine for physical fitness and sexual prowess since entering our facility. There is more to gain, of course, but we offer extended training programs to ensure that the stock that you are looking for is just what you get."

He spoke as if rattling off statistics and speeches from a memorised script, the stallion's weight and volume of semen expended per orgasm, how long he took to recover, how flexible he was for bondage purposes... But he was just a product to be sold and, sometimes, too much detail made the slaves seem too real. And that wasn't what Boglan was all about when it came to his toys, the boar walking off while the hyena was in the middle of his spiel, Marcus trotting after him, knowing that it did not best befit him to be left behind in such a place. Besides, he could still feel the slimy hyena's eyes on his arse, as much as something inside him lurched, cock throbbing, at the mere prospect of having his body put to use. It was the slave way and that would never change.

The stallion grunted, his cock hard and ready, and Boglan casually caressed it, sliding his fingers around the girth and down to his nuts. They swelled into their sack, noticeably defined, and the boar's lips twitched in the hint of a smile, making the auctioneer's greed lift for a fraction of a moment.

Of course, it wouldn't be that easy. The stallion was a nice product but there was little more that Boglan felt that a purely physical slave could offer him. He was broken and beaten down, a helpless wreck that would simper on the floor at his hooves. He didn't want a slave that was going to rise up against him - like the bear that should not, under any circumstances, have been on the sales floor to begin with - but a simpering mess of a sissy, well...that was not for him. And Boglan only bought what he simply could not live without.

At least, for a little while.

There were still more there, including a ram in wrist and ankle cuffs, suspending in bondage above his stage where there were plenty of wanting buyers to grope and squeeze and slap his raised buttocks. On another podium, a wolf moaned around a cock as he was tested, although the buyer did not appear to consider his skills all that great as he yawned and shook his head. So many had high standards for their slaves that they truly had to be exemplary in order to get ahead where they needed to be (owned and bought) and a lacklustre blowjob simply would not do.

A stag groaned in bondage, though he was more muscled than the rest, his coat layered with sweat that gave Boglan pause, even if it was, as with the case with so many other potential slaves, destined to be fleeting. His hide was spotted with the markings of a fallow deer and his antlers were flat and cupped, not large enough to really hold anyone's attention even though all eyes should have been on his muscle. A prospective buyer, a shorter foxhound with a calmly conniving appearance to his snide muzzle, groped the stag as he stood there, entirely unbound but completely broken and submissively, languidly pumping the massive length of stag-meat jutting out crudely from his crotch.

"Here," The Engineer interjected, ever looking for a sale. "This item only came in recently but he has adapted so well to his training that he does not even require bonds and we may display it in its natural form. It's quite impressive, really, even for a slave to come out of my facility."

Smirking as if he expected applause, The Engineer puffed up his chest, lifting it as he filled his lungs with air.

"He is currently undergoing size training - that's for his muscle and not his cock - but he has come a fair way already and we are pleased with how he is coming along. His shaft is sizeable, if you were ever into that sort of thing, but he is pleasant on the eye as a slave, his meat good to taste."

That much was true, even to Boglan's eye, although it was not the stag's submissiveness as the foxhound pumped his length, not getting him off, that had caught him. He rippled with muscle as if he was a statue finely crafted and cut from it, even showing through his fur, which was still likely due to replace itself with a summer coat during the course of his next shed and coat change. The stag groaned open-mouthed, his paws balled-up next to his hips, his torso a perfect upside-down 'V' as his legs thickened like tree-trunks. It would have been hard to imagine him with more muscle than he already had and, truly, it may have been his mass of bulky muscle that made his antlers seem smaller than usual, though there was no question as to whether or not the stag would go for a fair price.

The foxhound didn't seem that interested in what the drooling stag's shaft had to offer, however, and Boglan watched without commitment as he was replaced by a curious otter. The otter was slimmer, almost comically so, and walked around the stag in a tight circle, letting his sleek fur rub up against that of the larger fur. Yet larger did not mean more dominant and there was a particular liking for very well-muscled furs in recent times, which made the stag one that all eyes should have been on.

"His hole is good and tight too," The Engineer said. "It doesn't get loose, no matter what size cocks he takes. Most of the staff here have tested and run demonstrations with him, along with our customers, of course, and there is nothing that has proved to be too much for this slave as yet."

Boglan should have been listening, as a client, but that still wasn't his way as he merely stood back to watch the otter pulling down his smart trousers, revealing a nicely sized shaft that still was nothing in comparison to the monster that the stag was boasting. But it seemed that the deer's cock was destined to merely remain on show, even as The Engineer rattled off the exact length and girth and how much cum he could produce at any one time as if it was a fact stored in his mind. In all reality, he was merely calling up details on his sales tablet, reeling through everything that he thought could possibly have been of interest to Boglan.

Yet not even Boglan and Marcus could possibly have stood to walk away as the otter tried out the stag's supposedly tight tail hole, pushing in hard and fast without any consideration at all for the other fur's comfort. The broken howl the stag gave could have been pleasure or pain, patches of sweat darkening on his hide, panting heavily, his paws on his thighs as he submissively bent over for the smaller otter. He was not another fur to the otter but something to be used and his hole may as well have been nothing more than a fleshlight for all the care that the otter afforded to it.

But that was just what a slave was there for, not a viable anthro that one could have a true and genuine conversation with as their bodies were put to excellent use time after time again. The other groaned deeply as he powered in, not allowing the stag a moment in which to adjust to the sudden penetration, though there was no lubricant to be had either. Only truly genial masters and sometimes slaves that were going through the very initial stages of training would have that. After all, a tail hole could stretch to match most cocks if allowed a moment in which to adjust and a male slave needed much less penetration than a female one, in all honesty. That was the beauty of the male slave trade in its most carnal of forms, although slavery did not discriminate, in any way, between genders.

The muscled stag grunted, ears flicking back, but the otter didn't want to know what he thought about the experience. He only cared about how his hips worked, powering into the larger beast over and over again, raw pleasure painted across his face. The otter, however, was so small that he needed to stand on a platform of sorts (it must have been hastily bodged together when the staff had seen him come in) to reach the stag's hole. But that didn't matter as the otter was the potential master to be and the stag but a slave, one of them holding the power while the other, absolutely, held nothing at all.

It was hypnotic to watch the pound of the otter's hips at work, how the stag tensed and gulped down his bellows, eyes half-closed, but there was still more to be had as his hard-on jerked and flexed before him. It pulsed and there was no way that anyone watching could not be drawn to it, slipping back and forth as it slapped up against stag's stomach, although that was due to the force of the otter's thrusts. For a smaller creature, he could really go at it, latching onto the stag's hips as he dragged the slave back onto his cock time after time again, whimpers on his lips. He could be as vulnerable as he needed to be, however, while the slave was forced to be the image of whatever his master wanted him to be.

Boglan's shoulders relaxed. For once, he could enjoy the show but, undoubtedly, The Engineer was always there to cut through the pleasure, his eyes on the prize that was always going to be the boar's wallet.

"If you like him," The Engineer interjected less than smoothly, "he can be bulked up more for you. I doubt anything more than a four-week programme would be needed to have him at his prime with all that we have in store here."

Boglan shook his head.

"There is no intuition in him. How is a slave like that ever going to meet my needs?"

He didn't bother trying to keep the note of derision out of his voice, almost laughing as The Engineer's expression fell. He wasn't one to hide his emotions and, really, that was just one of many reasons that Boglan had been so successful at negotiating prices down with him before. He always got a good deal even if he did line the slaver's pockets too. It was a deal that he wasn't entirely happy with but could still aim to do better each and every time. It was good, after all, for him and his reputation to be a hard boar to deal with.

Yet he didn't need to think about that as his eyes drifted to the tallest slave there who must have been topping seven feet, a dragon with black horns and dark crimson scales. He was bound tightly in suspension bondage, his head close to the ground although the cranks and levers implied that there were ways to flip him around, presumably, so that not too much blood rushed to his head. His position, however, did not soften the beast of a cock at his crotch any, fleshy and hard, so thick that Boglan doubted that even Marcus could get his large paws around it. That said, the bull did not have the most delicate fingers and his meaty paws were best put to use in other ways than measuring the girth of another slave's shaft.

Boglan's eyes roamed his body: muscled but not bulging out like the stag, which was a shame, a point against him. He did so like dragons and the way that the beasts sweated from specific glands and points was just as alluring to him, that masculine note ringing through even when they were so much less than him. Slaves could never be on the same level as their masters, of course, but it was the power and control that led to that and not the stature of a slave. As could be seen with the otter, a smaller master could just as powerfully dominate a larger slave and it didn't matter truly when there was such a large power difference between them.

Yet his attention was set to wander, no one holding his attention for long, even though the stock that the slaver had on show, truly, was exemplary. Never before had The Engineer put such a collection of muscled, studly males together, their cocks the largest that he'd seen. And Boglan was a connoisseur of such things, grunting in the back of his throat as he took it all in with a lustful sweep of his gaze, though he was still careful to hide it from The Engineer. His formal exterior was, simply put, an exterior but the truth of him, ah... That was only something to be revealed to his closest confidants and, even then, only after they had duly proven themselves trustworthy.

"Eight inches. Ten inches. Six inches."

Boglan eyed up a meerkat dubiously, although the slave was not his type anyway.

"I assume he has other talents?"

Scoffing, the boar moved on even as The Engineer fumbled to say something about size not mattering with whatever talents the meerkat boasted but Boglan wasn't interested in that. No, he was far more interested in sizing up Marcus next to another bull who was bound on his knees, a spreader bar locked between them as his arms were pulled behind him, revealing a broad expanse of chest that any fur may have lusted to drag their tongues along, teasing around the nipples and down to his meat. He could have made a nice partner slave for Marcus, something entertaining, but Boglan had not entered the auction house with the intention of having two pleasure slaves that were of the same species. Variety, even with his inclination for muscle and a particular girth, was key.

An interesting duo of a lion and a tiger were bound with the tiger's cock penetrating the lion, however, an orgasm counter before the lion showing viewers just how many orgasms the beast had been forced through. Of course, the tiger himself was not permitted to orgasm as much as he twisted and mewled plaintively in his bondage, fur soaked with sweat, matted and flaked up where his bondage had cut in particularly forcibly.

"My..."

Boglan smiled appreciatively, their moderately muscled bodies showing no ounce of spare fat, just like Marcus. The look suited the bull and all others that Boglan brought in for his pleasure, even though Boglan could have forced him to change his appearance at any time through a rigorous exercise regime and diet, although he had others in his household to take care of the logistics of that for him. He wouldn't lift a finger, but the lion's heavy pants, rasping out breath after breath, his mane thick and full, were music to his ears as he paused there for a moment, simply willing to enjoy the show.

"Their cocks are a good size," The Engineer said conversationally, eyes flitting one way and then the other. "They know how to use them, though this is one that is better sold as a set. Felines like this really do complement each other."

He may have had all the time in the world but The Engineer was ever-aware of the fact that he had more buyers and clients coming in, others on the sales floor wanting his attention too. But what was he to do when Boglan was his very best client, the one that spent the most coin with him, even if he did so very often sell the slaves back to him too in order to be passed on to someone less demanding and particular than him?

Of course, the lion and the tiger did not hold his attention for long and the boar moved along, barely hesitating besides a slave bound over a spanking bench, although he had not yet been tried. The leopard squirmed, legs spread with a spreader bar, but Boglan had had enough felines in his time and was after a sweeter taste of such devious pleasures if he was going to pair up Marcus with a product that would truly catch his eye and attention day after day.

The slaver took a breath, straightening his suit-type jacket, which didn't lend any illusions as to him being more professional than experience had taught everyone else that he was.

"I think you will be more interested in my private stock, sir. The boys here simply are not good enough for you. Would you come this way?"

Smiling faintly, though there was a hard line to his lips all the same, The Engineer led them to the next floor, the ride in the elevator a short yet uncomfortable one for Marcus. Boglan slung his leash around his neck, expecting his slave to follow him without its pull, but the hyena's paws barely left him in the close confines of the elevator, spreading his rear cheeks to expose the tight pucker of his well-used tail hole.

"You wouldn't consider selling this one back, would you?" The Engineer grinned at Marcus' discomfort, however slight it was after all of his conditioning. "A product like this is prime stock, it never really goes out of fashion."

"No."

It was a good thing that Boglan had never felt the need for undue politeness, direct and to the point, which stood him in good stead for his line of work, at least. No one questioned where he stood or even where they stood with them, even if The Engineer's expression soured. Marcus exhaled softly. That was a closer call than he would have liked to engage in.

His private stock were showcased in demonstration alcoves or rooms set off from a main, central hallway. Most slaves up there, of course, were either special or undergoing further training, broken down and conditioned into being the most apt, subservient versions of themselves that were possible, even though there was more to the process than The Engineer let on to others out in public. No, just how he controlled them and wrapped his little finger around their puny brains (as if they really needed to use them anyway) was a secret all of his own and something that he kept close, a secret that would not be told, lest he lose his power and position in the world.

And he wouldn't have wanted that, now, would he?

The walls were painted black and the lighting kept dim as the hyena smirked, leading them to the first side-room, which opened up directly from the hallway in a pool of light. Where those rooms were illuminated, it was the darkened hallway that lent an air of mystery, leaving the buyers feeling quite as if they were traipsing into a viewing area for some rare and exotic creature. They would have been right too for it was only the best stock that The Engineer kept up there - until they were sold off, of course.

"This one is very interesting," The Engineer said smoothly. "A rhino, he can take big cocks, he'll be just right for Marcus..." He smirked subtly. "But is he right for you, sir?"

There was a mocking note in his tone but, well, Boglan was well-practised at ignoring such things. Let The Engineer think he held all the good cards from the deck in his paw. He didn't. The rhino, however, was a fine example of a slave, his arms bound to his sides and horn blunted so that it was no longer dangerous, groaning and moaning as if there was nothing that could hold him back from making such lewd sounds, suspended from the ceiling. Of course, it was not just that that made him so keen but the stud of a dominant cougar ramming his cock up into his anal passage, powering through his ring with a length so fat that, truly, it was impressive.

Alas, Boglan's eyes were on the cougar and not the rhino and the cougar, sadly, was a staff member and not for sale. The Engineer spotted his disinterest and moved them on swiftly, smoothly, passing a drink into Boglan's hand so quietly that it was as if it had appeared there from thin air.

The Engineer smiled, though there was no good feeling in such a smile.

"Wet your whistle, my friend."

Boglan eyed it distastefully and set it aside without a word as The Engineer sighed, thinking more and more of the paycheque from a big slave that simply did not seem destined to be his - at least not from Boglan's stingy paws that day. Maybe he was a lost cause. Maybe he was just taunting him. Maybe he was just there to flaunt Marcus before him, the slave that had gotten away and could have been used to entertain guests over and over in another part of his lewd facility altogether.

He would never know.

There were more, of course, such as the water buffalo with massive horns that was having his tail hole stretched by two cocks at once. The staff members had at work laughed and mocked him as they powered in, his conditioning well underway, though his bellowing grunts were contained by the pod-like rooms that everyone was spaced out in. They seemed to reflect sound so that the hallway was not deafened by cries of pleasure and strain, though that was not something that was important at that time. Just another little trick of The Engineer's that he'd had implemented into his facility to make it a better set-up and stage for showing off the products he had for sale.