Copyright© 2001-2003

A gay young prince from Morocco
Made love in a manner rococco.
He painted his penis
To resemble a venus
And flavored his semen with cocoa.

I lost myself into my work. The loss of Anne hit me harder than I assumed it would - yet it happened during a time of joy.

The birth of my first child, a daughter, was miraculous and a joy to my world. Minutes after her birth, Anne slipped away into oblivion - nothing the doctors could do, could save her. Perhaps mother had been right, Anne was too slight to bear children.

Though I had a girl-child, she was the love of my life. So precious and a pureness of innocence that I found myself spending as much time as possible around. I cared little for what my opponents within the Clan claim, that nothing matters but a man-child. Little Dora, my mothers mothers name, mattered.

The tome I had been reading for the last three hours was giving me a headache. Written centuries ago, the ink almost blurry on the thick parchment, setting down the beliefs that we now lived by. This book, and others like it, were the forebears of our way of life. I sat back and grabbed for a bottle of Tylenol and a glass of water.

"Headache again darling?"

It was mother, standing in the doorway to my personal office at home. I simply chased the two pills with a mouthful of water and swallowed loudly.

The love of my life and my first slave came behind me and massaged my shoulders. So much was different - gone was the carefree days of college. Now it seemed that I had little time or energy to even fornicate. I regretted my retreat into matters larger than my immediate family - but it appeared unavoidable.

Her hands quickly loosened the knot of muscle about the base of my neck.

"Hum... that feels great mom." It did.

"Why don't you take the rest of the day off honey?" We have been together so many years that she was the only one in my life that was allowed such familiarity when she addressed me.

Another thing that was different than so long ago - I had become an important person within the Clan. My mandate giving me power over the future of our Clan.

"Is Dora sleeping?"

"Yes darling, Glenda read her a story and Dora was asleep before the second page was finished."

Glenda was a slave I purchased, mostly to help with the raising of my daughter. Mother had found her. Glenda had not been born into the Clan but introduced to it when she was a teenager - it was the life that she chose to live. Such individuals are often looked upon with suspicion by Clan insiders, but the reality was that someone that consciously made the decision to be among us was a strong proponent for our way of life. Glenda's husband and small son were killed by a drunk driver a couple of years before - it tore her world apart.

She was now an important part of my family - and my mothers lover and companion.

I reached around and gently pulled my mother down upon my lap, she laughed gently and wrapped my head in her arms. "I love you Master."

My hand slipped beneath her woollen skirt and she spread her knees to allow it to reach her crotch. I found it, as it has always been, warm, smooth and moist. With a little more attention, I knew mother's sex would flow like a river. It was the path to her soul that was always open for me.

Her lips found my own and I kissed her with passion that has been lacking in my life since Anne died. Mothers hip pressed painfully against my hardening cock and she sighed with the pleasure of the scene.

The fucking phone rang immediately tearing my erotic soul asunder. I couldn't leave it.

Mom slipped off my lap understanding as always. Straightened her skirt even as I reached for the damn phone.

"Yes? Get the team together, tomorrow morning... ten is fine." I hung up, angry at the intrusion. I allowed the luxury of sexual bliss, even the promise of it, so rarely in my life these days, that I almost felt guilty for neglecting my work while also feeling angry at choices long forgotten.

I leaned into the desk and back to the tome. Mother knew what it meant, "Will you come out to the table for supper honey - or should I have it sent in here?"

"In here mom."

She slipped silently from the room.

I sat back, my mind still not able to focus on my work.

I've been given a task to reinvent the Clan for our younger members. Duncan, and other Elders, have been aware for years of the eroding dedication that was needed for our way of life to survive. Members stopped attending church, girls ran away from their families, tithe was stopped, even some men abused the power they had over their slaves. Violence was rampant in our Clan and we were in danger of having the rest of the world discovering, and thus destroying, our chosen path.

The outside world seemed to seduce our members and I was to find out why and how to keep them.

To that end, I was given a free reign to choose the men that could help me. I chose some of the wisest Priests and Elders, even two older slaves that have been part of our Clan for eighty years - bringing them from all parts of the world to our little town. I tore into these old books as if they held the answer - sometimes spending days on single passages. So far they hadn't given anything but headaches - certainly no answers.

There was a light knock on the thick oak door. "Yes?" It was rather angry sounding, though I did not feel that way.

"Hello Master?"

"Yes, come in Julia." I sat back to watch my youngest slave enter my office, at some point it had gotten dark outside and my room was nearly black except for where the light shone upon my desk. She was in shadow till she stood a mere foot from me. "What is it?" My voice was softer this time.

I had found Julia when I toured one of the Clan Children Farms - a place for unwanted or abandoned children of our Clan. Mostly girls. They were horrendous places - abuse and neglect the norm. I had overhauled the system, from the top down, a few years back - to much success. Though I feared that my changes were cosmetic and the horror of such a world continued as it always had.

Julia had lived nearly her whole fifteen years when I met her in that world.

It was a year later and I felt her knowledge of the rawness of humans to be valuable. Julia had a long scar, from her left eye to the corner of her mouth - she had been beaten with a spatula for some minor indiscretion, and the sharp edge had sliced her face - but she was a very beautiful young woman. It was her eyes that I saw first, they contained a sad wisdom that caused me to stop and talk with her.

I can still remember how the Farm attendants and executives stood behind me nervously as I stopped before a dirty bench to chat with this waif of a girl. She had spoken with fear but had the strength to speak her mind - regardless of the consequences.

I took her with me that same day when I left from my inspection.

The strange thing about her was that she enjoyed sex - though hated the abuse, mostly sexual, that she endured since she could remember. I would think a person would learn to hate what was used to harm them. Perhaps it was because Julia was intelligent enough to understand that sex in itself was not bad, but how it was used.

Sometimes, as we coupled, I found her tiny thin Lolita body reminiscent of Anne's. I had to always stop myself from that path, depression and despair lay down that path.

The real sadness was that, as a child of the Farm's, she never expected to live in a house as grand as my own. Or to belong to a gentle and caring Master, as I believe I am. The future for such children was bleak, to say the least. And thus, her devotion and passion for me never faltered, and she was a staunch supporter within my family. I never took it for granted.

"Would you like me to bring you supper now Master?" She stared down at the floor before her feet - something she learnt as a child, never look someone in the eye.

I knew she had not come here to ask me about supper, but Mother had send the teenager to see if she can draw out the passion that had sparked earlier with my parent.

My hand slipped out to gently run itself along her thin smooth thigh. She wore only a long tee-shirt that barely reached to mid-thigh.

Perhaps I should take a break - it has been weeks since Julia and I have fucked? And maybe a good tumble would clear my thoughts - let me get back into the thick tomb.

My other hand slipped up and gently pulled the willing teenager's face down to my own. Her eyes closed and her moist lips parted as we joined. Even in her kisses, this slave was submissive.

How do I get the honour and dignity of the Clan back?

Her tongue slipped about my own through my travels of her mouth, never guiding only following. My hand slipped from her thigh to between her legs and I felt her molten sex overflowing with desire.

As I had discovered early, when shown gentle deliberate passion, her body responded very positively. It was probably a side-affect of being mistreated for so many years.

A finger slipped into her and she opened her mouth wide to gasp with pleasure.

She was my slave and I owned her.

My other hand slipped to my own lap to unzip my pants. She merely followed as I guided her, her thin thighs straddling my own strong legs. Expertly she found the thrusting pole and lowered herself upon it.

"Oh!" It never failed to amaze me, how tight this girls sex was. And she was so tiny, I wondered if the head of my prick entered her to a point directly behind her belly button. "Master!" Slowly, seemingly empathetic for my needs, she rose her body from mine - froze - then dropped it roughly back down.

Julia was also a screamer.

She didn't hold back this time and my book covered walls must have vibrated from the bellow of her pleasure. I simply watched her youthful pixie-like face, the raw pleasure obvious.

Mother told me not many months before that Julia loved me, loved giving me pleasure, loved the pleasure she received when I was happy. The perfect submissive. No so unlike mother it would seem.

The same but different. And I found pleasure in both.

I tore the thin tee-shirt wide, exposing her near-flat chest - her tiny nipples puffing out obscenely. They were always a gauge to her pleasure, if her hot wet cunt was ignored, the tiny nubbins ballooning at least three times their size were an excellent test. And they never reacted like this when cold only with hot with passion.

Her movements began to accelerate and I marvelled at her ability to hug my sex with her inner muscles with each slow withdrawal of her body. It was like a strong fist that moved upon my cock. Julia would allow the tightness to loosen before she dropped back to my lap. When our bodies smashed, the erotic echo of our intertwined sex parts was like bawdy music to my ears.

She clung to me now, her head upon my shoulder, her small chest against my sweater, as her ass moved up and down deliberately. I could feel her desire to please me, to draw out my energy through my cock - yet knew that her own was approaching much faster than her Master's.

Julia bit into my sweater and squealed loudly as the last pinnacle was reached and she teetered on the summit of her climax.

The scream must have caused all in my home to smile, knowing that their Master had forgotten his work, if only for a few minutes, to enjoy this sexy young slave. Julia wailed as the orgasm hit her hard, her whole body becoming wild and uncontrollable. I found myself holding her firmly, else she fall and perhaps hurt herself on the hardwood floor.

Somehow she never became unseated from my still-hard cock and found herself exhausted and laying lifeless upon my body.

The minutes passed and I was allowed to savour the closeness with this girl - her innocence a lie contrary with the horrors she had to endure before she entered my life.

I felt her hips raise and reached around to hold them down against me. Julia pulled her face away from mine and stared at my chin when she whispered, "Master?" Her question obvious, I was rock hard and inside her body - her pleasure could not interrupt my own, I was the Master. She wanted to be allowed to continue and did not understand why I stopped her.

"Shhh... quiet Little One," my pet name for her, "I'm enjoying this moment." Julia lay her head upon my chest, directly over my heart and never moved.

A small knock came to my door.

It was fucking busier in here than at the team building, I had rented nearly a year ago for our group work.

It was mother. "Darling? May I come in?"

"Yes, come in mother." I knew my voice did not sound amused at her intrusion. With both hands I held that tiny face and guided her lips to my one. They tasted sweet and I could tell she desired to pleasure me by the way her body melted into my own, the way her lips drew my into her. "Go have a bath little one, I'll come up later - after I do a few more hours of work."

The only way to describe the look in Julia's eye was sadness.

She slowly disengaged from me, her spend leaving my crotch soaked. Mother stood over my left flank and looked down surprised at my still hard pole. I caught her give the young slave a disapproving glance - it was a woman's place to pleasure her man - it was mothers spot as head woman of my household to ensure I was happy.

"Julia?" She stopped before the doorway and turned back to me silently. "Did you ever dream about being like the outsiders - a girl growing up in a outsider family when you lived in the Farm?"

Julia frowned in thought, then answered cautiously, "Not that I remember Master... but we did not really know how outsiders lived." I knew she was taught that outsiders could not be trusted and were evil - I have seen the curriculum that the instructors taught these children.

"And now - honest Little One?" It was a warning.

She looked surprised and stared me directly in the eye, a rarity in itself. "No Master never. I can not think of a better place to live - a better man to be a slave too."

I knew her to be an intelligent young woman - but could her brain washing early years have distorted her beliefs and thoughts?