Hi, all. Decided to change the name of this little tale. Part 1 can be found at http://www.eunuch.org/Alpha/S/ea_24521slaves_o.htm

(Slaves of the Dynasty, part 2)

My shoulders ached. My knees were sore. Hell, even my butt hurt. Kneeling in the harsh sun and humid climate of a strange land is not a good way to spend an afternoon. At least I was better off then Stephan. The collar around his penis had driven him nuts after two months. One knife-stroke later and he was free from his hormones forever. Strangely enough, he was not punished for removing his own manhood. Makoto almost seemed proud of him. Go figure.

And here she was again, inspecting our ranks; examining her stock, as it were. It was torture, plain and simple. The collars had been removed, and damn was my pole reaching for the heavens. Touching it would be a bad idea. Farragut, in the back row, had tried to sneak in a couple of strokes, but hung was old hat at this. The beating he got was more than enough to dissuade anyone else from trying it.

"Stand!" hung ordered.

I wasn't feeling quite courageous enough to turn my head, but I could hear the distinct sounds of Mistress Makoto and her retinue approaching down the path. She was carried in a litter by a half dozen eunuchs and guarded by four of her warriors.

Gracefully and silently she stood up, and took a spot right in front of us. She looked us up and down, and then began the inspection. Enrik was first.

His six and a half inch penis was grabbed suddenly, and without warning. Then she began to stroke. The ecstasy on his face was profound, and that was his first mistake. He should've known better. He was a Ranger, and I found this disgusting. If I were still his commanding officer I would punch him right in the face!

And as that thought crossed my mind, a thick white ribbon erupted from his member. His knees buckled and gave in, crashing him to the ground. Enrik's face hit the dirt and he was panting in pleasure.

"Three minutes, fifteen seconds,” Makoto remarked to herself. "Unacceptable."

With that remark she took off her bracelet, which went limp once its clasp was undone. It seemed to sparkle as it hung there. She grabbed the other end of it and held it like a garrote. Two of the guards picked the poor fool up.

I'll say this: at least it was quick. The garrote removed Enrik's jewels, and their bag, quickly, painlessly (shocking, I know) and without the mess. It was like the man never had balls in the first place. A couple of slaves muttered under their breaths, and Makoto was sure to mark their names down. Everyone shut up after that, and I made it a point to remain absolutely still, posture perfect.

I was next.

I could swear she gave me a smile before she grabbed it. By the gods, it felt like butter had been poured over my cock. My eyes slammed shut and my mind was taken somewhere else. I was in a bed with the softest of mattresses and smoothest of sheets. And Makoto was naked beside me.

I instantly knew what I was to do. I just had to last for five minutes. Five of the longest minutes I would ever know. Her sorcery made matters infinitely worse, for the images in my mind were more real than any dream you could ever have.

In my head we had sex. She was lying flat on her back, and I was pumping myself in and out of her, rhythmically, passionately. My left hand curled around her body and held onto the back of neck tightly. My lips were locked on that neck, sucking, biting, licking. My right hand firmly played with her small, tight breast, squeezing that nipple with the playfulness of a lover. And that womanhood clamped down on me like a vice.

Five minutes was just impossible, I thought. I couldn’t do it. Sex was a stranger to me for months. The arrow would leave the bow, so to speak, long before it was supposed to.

Then I realized something. I had a brief pause in my little dreamworld as it dawned on me that she was here too. This wasn’t quite a figment of my imagination, because Mistress Makoto was right there in front of me. She was feeling all of this, too.

The idea of pleasing my mistress was drilled into my head so often by hung, that I came to realize that it was key. With that understanding I gave myself to her. Every stroke, every lick, was for this goddess in front of me.

Time was something I had no understanding of here. When I came, I came hard. The frustration of four orgasm-less months erupted out of me and into her. And then came the feeling of dread. How long? How long, dammit?!?

Like Enrik before me, I found myself on my knees, panting like a dog cooped up in the heat for too long. The guards began to help me up, and I lifted my head a little. I could smell her. Her scent wafted from the folds of the kimono and into my nostrils. I don’t know if it was the conditioning they had subjected us to, or just something in the water, but I wanted to stick my tongue in that pussy right then and there. Predictably, my unit was soon at full attention again. Damn.

Still, the smile on Mistress Makoto’s face was worth all of it.

“Fourteen minutes, twelve seconds. I wish I could keep you for my own use, little yoshi. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? But a former Ranger, with some stamina,” she said with a grin,” will fetch a nice price.”

She gestured for me bow, and then planted a gentle kiss on my forehead.

Out of the fifty men assembled here, only eighteen of us came out of us unscathed. Half of them were my men. Probably the last time I would ever be able to feel a little bit of pride.

The city of Minmei Risha was a feminist’s wet dream. The only men with any real attire were the natives. We slaves only had a degrading loincloth if we were lucky. I wasn’t so lucky. The racks in the slave market kept a man on his toes, arms and legs outstretched. Without the collar, my little partner was completely on display, pointing out like a mini trumpet. A little sign in front of each of us gave the Women quick access to our history, performance statistics, that sort of thing. Mine was too far away for me to read, and quite frankly I stopped caring after the first three hours. Mistress after Mistress after Mistress stopped by to inspect me, more so than any other slave, it seemed, but none wanted me.

They would walk around me. Smack my butt. Slap my thingy and watch it bounce up and down. One even stroked me for half a minute before another Lady pointed at the sign and told her to stop. It wasn’t fun standing there without any genuine interest from anyone, but it was nice to be groped so much.

“You better hope you get picked,” said the man behind me during a lull in the shopping.

“Why? What happens if I’m not bought today?” I still can’t believe that I had been so indoctrinated at that point. Bought? I already saw myself as property.

“Then you’re goin’ to the mines. After you get snipped, of course. They figger that if you can’t get sold here, then you’re just wasting time. Mebbe you’ll just be sent to Kingae Vela, and service the warriors stationed there,” he snickered.

“That’s that fort I passed just outside the city, right?”

“That’s right, boy. Kingae Vela. The Fortress of the Wind. The Women took it from the men folk a thousand years ago, as the stories tell it. Those spires that you noticed on the central wooden keep? They were once adorned with naked, conquered men, kept alive with sorcery for a hundred years. Two dozen suffered there as a warnin’ to all others. The kingdom of men was lost not long after that. And as early as tomorrow, you could be a whore in the barracks inside there, heh!”

I had no interest in talking to [i[kani anymore. He used to be a barbarian to the south of here. Now he was just pathetic. Still, he insisted on blurting out his stories to me until an overseer took notice and shoved a baton up his ass. That shut him up real good.

The market would close at sunset, and that was maybe two hours away. What was wrong with me? My body was in terrific shape. I had some very useful woodworking skills. I wouldn’t have been surprised if Mistress Makoto noted my stamina, as well. So what was the problem? Why was I still here? What were these Women looking for that I didn’t have?

These thoughts all dissolved as the sun touched the horizon. I was useless. Completely useless. Unwanted. I resigned myself to that as I saw that were very few Women left browsing at this late hour. At least it didn’t rain.

Fifteen minutes later it appeared. It was like a convoy. An ornate black and red litter, with spikes set on the top and sides, carried by eunuchs and escorted by a full platoon of thirty-two warriors. Two of the eunuchs parted the curtains and a stunning Woman fluidly got to her feet. She wore a black and red cheongsam, with a hole cut out around her cleavage. As she strode closer towards me, I could see that the red in her outfit was formed like two dragons, their tails starting at the bottom with their heads just above her breasts. The wings curved around to her behind. Her porcelain features contrasted against a muscular physique, and a grace that would rival a tiger. She must have stood six feet tall in those high heels.

She came to a stop right in front of me and looked me up and down.

“I thought he would have been taller,” she mused to herself. “But this is sooo very nice,” she purred as her hands drifted over my chest and abs.

The knee to the groin really came out of nowhere. It happened so fast that the pain didn’t register for a few seconds. My erection quickly subsided, and her collar was instantly around me. She took a sword from one of her guards and sliced at the ropes suspending me. I immediately fell, my head just inches from her feet.

I’m not sure where the urge came from, but at once I began to kiss that shoe. “Thank you Mistress, thank you,” I groveled. In hindsight I suppose I was just ecstatic to have been chosen. Barracks Whore didn’t sound like a very good job description, and this woman deserved all of my gratitude for rescuing me from that horrible fate. Gods, I would have done anything for her at that moment, as my tongue ran along the side of her black heel.

“Rise for High Mistress Anasi!” a guard spoke. I did of course. Mistress Anasi then attached a little leash to my little collar and began to lead me back to the litter, where I would walk off to the side while she held onto the leash.

I knew I wouldn’t have the time to read it, but a little voice inside my head told me to take a quick glance at the sign. “SOLD,” it said, in huge letters. And underneath… “to High Mistress Anasi.”

It really sucks being played. Lesson learned. Time for my breaking to begin.