“I sail the
darkest rivers of my dreams, My cargo,
precious trust, secure in his control, I guide my
bodies-barque into my Master’s arms, His port, my
heart to dock, safe harbor for my soul.” Slave’s Song ~
W.D. Dux Posthumous
We headed
towards the dungeon and I hesitated for a moment.
“Master, I
should clean myself.”
“To the dungeon,
slave.” Master Earl ordered with a false gruffness. I started to
object but remembered Master Jeb’s rule,— an order given, not to
hesitate. We descended the stairs into his magic room. The moon was
lighting the dungeon like a mystic realm where you might expect some
misshapen gnome to scuttle forth with a goblet of mulled wine for his
Master. I could see more than I saw before. It was larger than I first
thought. It boasted a large self-contained shower area with an extra
wall down the right side.
The other wall
was the outside wall of the building. It must have been twenty by
thirty and contained several tables and benches. It was covered
completely in black tile. There was a door in the corner that looked
like it went into another room. There was a walk-in closet built in
under the stairs. Master Earl had me stand not far from the stairs. He
retrieved the leather hood, wrist and leg cuffs, and my mouth plug. He
put on the wrist cuffs first, clipped chains to them, and then, to
chains hanging from the ceiling.
“This is to make
sure my exotic slave I have captured on the lesser moon of Antares
doesn’t escape before this old space pirate gets to sample his prize.
Try to escape these chains, me hardy,— aarrr! I understand your race
has been known to suck a man’s soul out through his cock. Is that true,
slave?” He launched into a fantasy.
“I’m a Prince
unto my race. My father, the King of Gandura, will have more than your
soul you filthy,— ”
“Go on, slave,
you’re doing fine.”
“— you filthy
swine, but to answer your question, Captain. Why don’t you drop that
well filled cod piece and try me. You have nothing but your soul to
lose. (fiendish laughter) I’m sure it would taste of space dust, salt,
man smells, leather, smegma, come, bay rum, and the rosebuds of young
virgin boys of many species.”
“You’d like that
wouldn’t you, slave, to taste my man’s soul along with my seed rushing
down my big shaft to fill your belly? And what would happen to my soul?
Would it die within your gut to be absorbed into your essence, or would
you hold it prisoner for my love to grow within your belly like a
pregnant whore?”
“No, never! I
won’t tell you, or one day you would hunt me down, capture me again,
force your cock into my mouth, shove your strength far down my throat,
fuck me hard, then harder, until you’ve had your way with me against my
will, so you might spill your seed and soul into me.”
“It’s not that
hole I plan to use to spill my seed this ‘eve, my beautiful young
Prince of the Gandurians.”
“Beware,
Captain, the Prince of my people is rumored to have special powers in
that area of his body.”
“And, what might
those rumors be, my slave?”
“I’m sure
they’re only rumors, Captain, my new Master, but I'm strangely drawn
toward your human man-shaft, secreting sweet, glistening fluids between
your massive thighs. My royal rear port is secreting lubricating juices
in anticipation of being lanced with your large human-sword. It's
dilating, readying itself to welcome your weapon to plunge into my
bodies depths so you might take your joy and pleasure in its use this
‘eve, my strong and willful, Captain; my new handsome Master.”
Master Earl fell out of character.
“Damn, Beau,
where ju’ learn that? I haven’t found anyone who could keep up with me
in fantasies and you just bested me.”
“I used to
memorize vast passages of Shakespeare while waiting in the jungle. The
military’s first order you learn: hurry up and wait! I sort of think in
iambic pentameter as a result. Is that bad, Master?”
“Hell, no!
But you can bet I’m gonna’ wonder before I slam my cock in your ass
what magic it might have I don’t know about.” He roared with laughter.
“We’ll pick this up later. Now hang there for a while.” He laughed
again. “Beau,— I haven’t laughed with anyone like I have with you
tonight in a long time. I closed myself off from the world. You’ve
re-opened doors for me, and for that I’m grateful.” He leaned forward,
kissed me gently on the lips, turned and walked away. “Be back in a
minute.” He said over his shoulder.
When Master Earl
returned from the walk in closet under the stairs I could have dropped
my load right then and there. He had on a complete New York City
Fireman’s outfit. Rubber coat, high rubber boots, and a huge rubber
coat buckled in front. He was also wearing an antique full
leather helmet. He stood directly under a pin spot so all I could see
was the hint of him within the strong narrow beam rushing to the
floor. I never really gave much thought to firemen being
sexy, but this opened new doors for me.
“Master you’d
better move out from under that spot, Sir.”
“And why’s that,
slave?”
“If you don’t,
I’m going to come right here.”
“Then I’d better
heed my slave’s fair warning. It wouldn’t please your Master for you to
come before him.”
“Thank you, Sir”
I said as he walked toward me.
He reached up to
unclip my right arm from the overhead chain and made sure the cold
rubber jacket rubbed fully against my nude body. He did the same with
the other. He took me in his arms, and I could feel and smell the
strength of the rubber coat around me; powerful stuff. He pulled away
for a moment and flipped open a couple of latches on the coat to open
it. He opened the jacket and had a full Master’s harness on
underneath. Once in a while, I’d seen guys wear similar things to
the bar but nothing like this one. Master Earl pulled me into the
inside of the coat as close to him as I could get and locked it around
both of us. Have you any idea how warm the inside of those coats can
be? As he held me tight I whispered into his ear barely audible,
“Please, please,
Master would you allow your worthless slave to clean those wonderful
boots for you.”
“I’m glad you
asked, slave. I like a slave who wants to please instead of one I have
to order to do everything. Jeb shouldn’t have much problem with you. I
sense a natural calling to be a slave. Once you’re spirit has been
shaped and molded by Master Jeb’s design you will become a treasure to
some lucky Master. Who knows,— it may even be me.”
“I could only
hope for someone as wonderful as you, Master.”
“Then continue
hoping. Dreams do come true.” He replaced my collar, hooked
my leash onto it, and led me to the giant chair with the boot irons. He
got into the chair, opened his rubber coat, and placed his huge rubber
boots on the boot irons. I looked up at one of the hottest sights I
ever saw and thought to myself, 'Is this really happening?' His cod
piece on the harness was stuffed with his big dick and stood out
perfectly from the rest of the harness. He made himself comfortable,
and I could see the small leather strap at the base of his cod piece
running under his ass and disappearing into the darkness. He
didn’t seem to be hurried and enjoyed seeing me look at him. I was like
a drunk who discovered a free bottle of booze and knew I was going to
have a glorious high.
“May I begin,
Sir?”
“Hope you’re
hungry, slave. There’s a lot of good eat’n on them boots.” He said half
joking, half serious.
“Thank you,
Master.” I entered the gates into boot-slave heaven. A trance
like state when you’re aware of what your doing, but the over all
sensations of smell, feel, and taste overpower the inputs of your
brain. All you can do is float on top of the moment. To those who might
read this who think to themselves,
‘Oh,— I could
never debase myself like that to another man.’ I ask you: is it
debasing to give of yourself to anyone? Ever read ‘Taming of the
Shrew?’ Is Kate’s last speech so far removed from what I’ve been
describing here. To place her hand beneath her husbands boot to
show her trust in him not to harm her, but acknowledging his
power to crush it should he will it? It is a joining of two spirits in
one action toward a common goal. Establishing or renewing bonds
of affection through rituals. Your only thought is to become something
that might please or bring joy to your Master. It’s unsettling in a way
but you must establish trust and faith in him to lead you where he
wants to take you. These acts of submission are a necessary part of the
ritual of defining territories, setting boundaries, and laying request
at his feet to be used by him for mutual benefit, however he may
choose. It is the symbolic transfer of trust and control you
respectfully present to him.
This was the
control I was missing in my life, and I was wallowing in it like a man
in a desert for three days without water finds an oasis. Submission
becomes a key to your trust you pass to your Master that gives him
control. If you find a Master who betrays that trust and expects
unrealistic things of his slave,— get out as quickly as possible. He’s
not enlightened. He tries to control through fear and terror from his
own insecurities. Don’t allow yourself to become a victim. Submitting
to a crazy does neither of you good. The horror that might occur is the
incorrect, unhealthy imprinting that can lead to addiction of that
type. Addiction is not affection. Don’t confuse the two.
Perhaps you’re
thinking, ‘What a hypocrite. He swears his undying love for the giant
and now he’s paving the road for a possible future with someone else.’
Good point. What did I see as a possible future with the giant? A dead
end. I’ll admit a large portion of my decision to enter training was to
be around him as much as I possibly could without pressuring him to do
something, anything, to try to claim me as his. It’s not my intention
to trap him. I might be gambling on a fantasy with Big Jim but Master
Earl was a solid possibility.
Here was a man
with a lot to give, and in need of someone to give to him as
well. As Master Jeb said, 'I certainly could do worse.'
Earl D. Shaw is a hyper-masculine, drop dead, good looking, charming,
loving, controlling, sane, highly intelligent, delightfully deviate,
body by God, the dick of death, and an LAPD motorcycle officer. Did I
leave anything out? Well,— Hell,— isn’t that enough? Certainly does it
for me. Master Jeb told me, a bird in the hand,— then there was that
popular song I kept hearing like the harpies singing in the background
of some Greek tragedy, 'If you can’t love the one you want,— love the
one you’re with.' I took it to heart.
I covered every
inch of his big black rubber boots with my tongue and hoped he wouldn’t
noticed as I began my second round. He called me to a halt. He grabbed
my leash which was hanging near him and pulled me to his crotch. I
could smell the leather and smells of his body blending with the strong
acrid rubber smells.
“Here’s your
dessert, slave. You may clean my cod piece.” I felt like I just
won the lottery.
“Thank you,
Sir,— it will be a treat for your slave,— thank you.” I could
feel his huge cock folded around within the cod piece like a snake. A
snake that would come out late at night to crawl into my ass and make
me pray to God I could have his child. Did that make me want to be a
woman? No, indeed, it’s a thought shared by all men,— even the
straightest of men at sometime in their lives. All men wonder
what it would be like.
In my early days
in Hollywood I didn’t suffer fools readily, but my heart always opened
for those I met who just didn’t seem to fit in. They would be the
one's who had hidden fantasies they couldn’t share with a lot of
people. Somehow, I attracted them like bears to honey. I must have had
a flashing sign behind my head that read ‘Sympathetic kinkoid!’ (Master
Jeb said they picked up on my innate need to serve no matter the
situation.)
I met a kid one
night who wanted to have action figures shoved up his butt, and then
pretend to give birth to them. He even went so far as to find heavy
clear balloons that could be stretched over the figure like a placenta.
(Not a bad idea in case something sharp might puncture his
colon.) It was a strange trip, but I was so fascinated by his
seriousness and need to have someone share this fantasy, I thought,
'What the
Hell? I’m bored tonight anyway. He is kinda cute and I'm just
curious enough to find out for myself if he's serious.'
Sometimes,— to
have someone share a particular fantasy is a form of validation none of
us are as crazy as we might think. He wanted me to fuck him first to
get him pregnant,— of course. That's were I came in,— as the
daddy. I could always play the role of daddy really well, because
I knew how I'd want a daddy to relate to me. After throwing a
Hellacious, verbal fuck into him and knocking him up, so to speak, then
I’d insert the ‘baby,’ as it were, and he’d be pregnant. He’d get up
and walk around and I’d grab him, feel his baby in his stomach. I’d
tell him how big he was getting, and it wouldn’t be long now. We’d do
the whole nine yards and finally it would be time for him to deliver.
Now,— mind you,— it was up to him to give birth to this fantasy. Having
something that unusual up your ass is not a trip around the may pole to
shit out. (excuse me,— give birth to.) I had no problem being the
expectant, cheer leader father, playing Johnny Bench with catcher’s
mitt; however, it was a stretch to see your child pop out a dead ringer
for G I. Joe with a five o'clock shadow.
Ah, well,— it
popped his cork, and I’ll have to admit, I was glad I met him. He
enriched my life, and I only hope I enriched his as he found so few
people who would even entertain sharing his fantasy. It became our
secret and bonded us as friends for years. I relate this with, tongue
in cheek humor, but no condemnation. My life wouldn’t have those
memories if I hadn’t gone through with it, and what did it cost me to
indulge him? Small price for a hot fuck. After some of the good, hot
fucks I threw into that little man, if he wasn't pregnant he damn sure
should've been. Sometime, I'll tell you the story about the guy
who liked to stand in two chocolate pies and have me throw oranges at
him while he jacked off. Remember Master Jeb’s wonderful axiom. It’s
too bizarre not to be true.
So much for
Occham’s razor. Master Jeb pointed out to me, going through that scene
with him was only more proof to him of my necessity to serve or please.
I would do things for people others wouldn’t consider. Master Jeb said
it had nothing to do with goodness or compassion but a deeper need to
serve. He also pointed out it was time I was taught how to direct my
need in a proper way; his way, of course, but as I was to find out,—
Master Jeb’s way was THE way. His reputation was not unfounded. He was
the Master’s Master without ever drawing attention to himself.
He didn't
present himself as a man of great strength, understanding, or
compassion; however, he was! Master Jeb was genuinely
more thoughtful and humble than most slaves. A conundrum? To some,
perhaps, but there in lay his strength. When Master Jeb spoke, no
matter how humbly, everyone listened. It was the way he lived his life
and the things he tried to teach so many that will be his legacy. He
never had any natural children, but he had several hundred slaves and
Master’s who would not hesitate to call him 'dad.' Some folks
birth children,— others birth ideas and concepts to live by. Master Jeb
was the latter.
Like most
desserts, cleaning Master Earl’s cod piece was sweet, eaten too
quickly, and left me wanting more. Master Earl got down from the chair,
and complemented me on the excellent job I did on his boots and cod
piece. He told me he thought my tongue was going to push through the
leather to get to the prize beneath. He led me by my leash into the
tiled area and told me to hit parade rest for a moment. He found my
hood and mouth plug. He removed his dog collar and pulled the leather
hood over my head and quickly laced it tight in the back. My Master
replaced my collar and hooked two spring loaded snap hooks to
each D-ring on either side.
We performed the
ritual of inserting my mouth plug which he secured tightly behind my
head. Master Earl had me lay on a strange narrow table. The top
half, of which, was covered in padded black leather. The bottom half
was hard to describe but the total bed was balanced like a children’s
see/saw or teeter/totter on a big, inch and a half pipe. He
attached the leather patch over my eyes explaining to me, sometimes
it’s important for a slave not to see preparations he might be
making. If I couldn’t see, I wouldn’t have questions, and it
would be easier to deal with a situation. There were wrist straps
attached to the table as well as arm straps. He hooked the spring clips
on my collar to chains that ran to either side of the table. One large
leather strap was placed across my chest which he buckled to the other
side. A strap ran across my thighs, just above my crotch. He attached
the strap across my upper leg, another just above my knees, and one
around my ankles. I couldn’t move if I wanted to.
There were two
chains that ran from the board near the arm straps, to an eye hook on
the side of the board near my knees. He raised my legs and attached the
chain to the eye hooks. The board under my leg was hinged and my knee
could bend as my leg was secured. There was a metal brace he snapped
into place to keep my lower leg straight. A chain connected the two
knees to keep them from spreading too far apart and was adjustable.
When he finished, my legs were in a great position for him to
have access to my ass. He left me there for a while, and then
returned. I heard the sound of a pair of rubber gloves snapping
as he put them on.
I could feel him
rubbing my ass and the cool sensation of his rubber gloves was sensual.
It felt good to be touched there. He began fucking me with his finger,
then two, then three, and began to really get into it, cork screwing
his hand into me. He stopped abruptly. He began inserting something in
my butt and the next thing I felt was something inflating in my rectum.
It was getting bigger and felt like a damn balloon. I didn’t complain
but it was slightly uncomfortable. The next thing I felt was another
balloon being inflated outside my butt, but as it inflated it pulled
the other one tight. My ass was locked between two balloons. I never
saw a device like he put into my ass before.
I heard a click
and warm, sudsy water began to fill my gut. My God,--- that’s why he
wouldn’t let me clean out. He wanted to do it. He kept filling me until
I was beginning to feel uncomfortable. I didn’t moan or try to get him
to stop. I figured he knew what he was doing and wouldn’t hurt me. It
might be uncomfortable, but I didn’t think he’d ever hurt me. Master
Earl clicked off the flow, and placed his hand on my belly to feel. He
left his gloved hand there for a minute.
“Your doing
fine, slave. I like a slave who doesn’t complain. This is for
your benefit? I wasn’t suppose to answer and I didn’t.
“Good slave,— I think you can hold just a little more. He kept his one
hand on my belly as I heard the other hand click open the valve and the
pressure started building again. He let it run for what seemed like an
eternity and then finally clicked it off again. “That’s good for now,
slave.” he commented as he rubbed both hands over my belly. “Now I’ve
got a couple of things to do.” He wound up a clock. “I’m setting this
for fifteen minutes. When that goes off I’ll be back and let that out.
Until then, relax.”
Relax,— Hell,— I
wanted to scream! Pull the plug,— NOW, DAMN IT! But I didn’t. He was
going away and leave me here with all this liquid in my gut and my hole
plugged so tight it couldn’t leak a drop. Before he left he placed a
set of ear phones on my ears to listen to the strangest music. It
was soft and barely audible. I heard bells, chimes, whistles in
the distance, thunder, train whistles and random notes. It was weird
but relaxing. It wasn’t relaxing enough. I was in extreme
discomfort. Do you have any idea just how long fifteen minutes
can be with a couple of quarts of liquid in your ass? I tried every way
from Sunday to relax but nothing helped.
Then I
remembered something my friend, David, taught me. There was a place you
could go to in your mind that was not asleep but you would feel no
discomfort or pain. I tried desperately to find it and began to panic.
I was failing,— I couldn’t locate it. What was I to do?
Suddenly, I felt a mental-hand grab my soul, my consciousness,
and pull it quickly into a place of safety. All of a sudden I was
there. I was in the room David had shown me how to get to. I felt
no pain. There was no more uncomfortable pressure. I was warm, cared
for, and felt loved. I was safe.
My friend,
David, in Nam, taught me how to find this place. He learned where it
was, how to get there from a shining man who had come to him several of
the many times his father abused him. This shining man told him there
would come a savior, his personal savior, to take him away from the
hurt, and he would recognize him when he looked into his eyes.
“Don’t hesitate
or fear to go with him. He will save you from this.” I felt the
little boy’s warmth around me,— I felt my beloved friend, David, as I
held him again in my arms and wept with him.
“Thank you,
David, for sharing your place with me. I don’t think I could've made it
without you.”
“Yes,— you could
have, you would have, and you will.” he thought to me “I know you! You
risked your life to save mine. A life I may never have had were it not
for you. I would never have found the love I cherished were it not for
you. Do you think I’d desert you now? We made love in the midst of
chaos and horror. Have you forgotten? It was special. You were good to
me. You gave me what I needed at the time with no thought to yourself.
You were more than kind. You loved me, and I loved you in return.
What we shared was one of the sweetest loves I’ve ever known.”
“It was sweet,
David, but I never found you again.” I told him.
You didn’t have
to, I’m here with you now, I found you, and it’s my turn to
help.” He filled my soul with his spirit.
“I’ll take you
to my father’s bed. He will hold you safe in his arms, and make love to
you. I always wanted you to know and love him. I know he will love you.”
Instantly we
were transported to a beautiful bedroom, and I was being held in the
arms of a beautiful man who proceeded to make sweet love to me.
He fucked me with his enormously large cock, and I couldn’t get enough
of it. I finally felt him release himself into me, and I reached climax
shortly after. I felt bad about soiling his sheets. David then returned
me to the small room we were in originally. We made more sweet love as
I held him in my arms. This time, with no rush, in the peace of our
spirits, away from the hasty orisons of war.
The alarm went
off jarring me back to discomfort and reality. There was incredible
pressure, but the pain was gone, instead I felt at peace. I heard
Master Earl’s footstep as he approached. He had on a full black rubber
breathing mask with a flexible tube that attached to an overhead pipe.
The pipe ran to the outside and had a small fan to force air in to the
breathing apparatus of the mask. He ran his hand over my extended belly.
“I think we’ll
add just a little more." I though I was going to die as I felt more
fluid filling me. It wasn’t as bad as the first time. I was just
apprehensive. Master Earl stopped the flow again and said we’d wait
another couple of minutes before he’d let it go. I thought,
‘I don’t think I
can. You gave him control! Don’t be foolish enough to take it
back now when you’re so close. The finish line is there, you can make
it, grit your teeth, whistle ‘Dixie’, think of Ah-nauld fucking you,
think of apple pie, think of Master Jeb, Big Jim inside of you, think
of the flavor of his tits.” Then Master Earl saw it.
“You shot
without my permission, slave?” We must talk about this.” He
raised the table to an almost upright position and released the
pressure from the inflated balloons. I felt like I was giving birth and
my water had just broken. Foul waters rushed from my body. Sanity and
relief were commingled until I could only groan with the plug in my
mouth. The imagined pregnancy was aborted. Master Earl held a
hose with warm water rinsing everything down the drain. When he was
satisfied I was finished he lowered the table and said the rinse won’t
be so bad. He took a large colonic tube with the warm water flowing and
inserted it into me. He told me not to try to hold it just lay back,
relax, and let him do the work. He was right, it didn’t feel so bad,
and the further he worked it up my ass the better it felt.
“Well, that
should do it we’re well past the second sphincter with three feet of
tubing. My God,— the man stuck three feet of red rubber tubing up my
butt. I guess I should be cleaned out. He stopped the water flow
and left the tube inside of me. I passed all the fluid as he
slowly pulled the tube out of me. I could feel it snaking through
my belly on its way out. Master Earl then stuck a cold metal thing in
my ass that looked like a ducks beak and had adjustments on it that
began to spread my ass muscle open until it was about four inches wide.
He up-righted the table and left it in me to drain any further fluids.
It worked. There was no air pressure with my ass open to hold it in and
everything else came out with a swoosh. Was that an emptying feeling? I
could understand what post-partum depression must feel like. Master Earl hit
a switch for an air exhaust fan and lit incense all around the dungeon.
Finally he hosed me off on the table and washed me all over with a soft
sponge and soap. Then he hosed me down again. He laid me back and undid
the straps, let my legs down, and undid the clips holding my head. My
Master took the plug out and the hood off but left my dog collar on. My
eyes became adjusted to more light and I saw the dungeon come alive
with candles. He moved behind me with the biggest towel I ever saw and
began drying me. He spoke softly to me with no anger in his voice.
“I know you
haven’t been through training yet, Son, but you know some of the basics
and one very important control a Master has over his slave is to say if
and when he will be allowed to come. With that in mind do you
want to tell me why you came?”
“Master Earl, I
don’t remember doing it, if I tell you I was not in my body when it
happened would you believe me?”
“This in your
favor, Son, I would not believe another soul on this planet who gave me
an excuse like that, but you,— well,— you I’ll believe.”
“I was in a
place a friend I knew in Nam taught me to go to when I was in pain or
discomfort. He was there and,— ”
“And you made
love with him.” He spoke softly.
“Not him, per
se, Sir, his father. He took me to his dad’s bed and he made love
to me. I’m sorry, Master, but when I was there I didn’t think about the
'here and now.' I could only feel his dad’s love and need. I
needed him but in a different way than I need you. We returned, and my
friend and I made love as well. His was the love of a sweet dear friend
I knew in Nam. We were only children. I did a small favor for him once,
and we clung to each other from fear. The feelings I have for you are
stronger, and I hope may grow. I would love you as a slave should
love his Master. Can you forgive me?” “I’ve never been
exposed to this sort of thing until earlier tonight, but it’s not so
difficult for me to understand. I forgive you slave with a kicker
attached.”
“Anything, Sir.”
“I’d better get
the best damn fuck out a’ you you’ve ever given any Master.”
“You will,
Master. Your Gandurian Prince is ready to be smote by your terrible
swift sword.” He laughed.
“Now, cut that
out! You got me spooked enough as it is. Now jump in that sling,
slave, and be quick about it. I want to get in there while its still
moist and hot.”
Master Earl
attached my wrist cuffs and chained them up over my head. He attached
leg cuffs and secured them to a ‘Y’ in the chains that held the sling.
He went to a closet under the stair and brought a long slender rubber
cock attached to what looked like one of the grease guns I use at work.
He squeezed a little lube out to the head of the rubber dildo and
inserted it way up my ass. Then he pumped the grease gun as he slowly
pulled it out. My Master had prepared me. I was ready to be used; ready
to be mounted and ridden like a wild-eyed, bushy-tailed bronco with a
burr under its saddle blanket.
“You haven’t
been trained to be taken as a Master must always take a slave, have
you?”
“Yes, Sir, I
have. I would welcome you to take me as my Master, Sir. I
would appreciate the honor of taking me as your slave.”
“Then I will
take you as my slave. It’s the only way a Master should take his slave.
It sets the parameters between the Master and his slave for the fuck. A
slave always gives a better fuck that way. You agreed to my kicker so
it becomes absolutely necessary.” He mounted me to the base of
his cock. It was every bit as large as the giants. I remembered that
feel. God it hurt good. How could that be? Good hurt? You can’t
understand it until you’ve been there but it’s the closest description
I can give. It just hurt good. Master Earl leaned forward, began to
kiss me, and began a couple of small strokes that really did the trick
to relax my slave hole. I wanted all of him inside me I could get. He
gently made love to me working my hole, stretching it, relaxing it for
his pleasure, moaning a little when he felt some fine stuff, then he’d
retract the movement to get that part again, and again, and then move
on to some deeper strokes. I was drifting into a space of relaxation I
hadn't experienced before. He wanted me, his weekend slave, to enjoy
this as well as him, and I was grateful for that.
“How’s that big
cop dick feel in there, Son? Am I working that little slave butt enough
to get it comfortable,— get it broken in for some good hard
riddin’ in that little boy butt? I haven’t done this in three years but
its coming back to me and I’m glad it’s you I’m fucking right now,
slave.”
“I think that’s
the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me, Master,— and yes, you’re
doing one Hell of a job. Could I have just a little more of your
good stretching, Officer Masters,— ooopps,— I mean,— ”
“Hey,— wait a
minute,— I like that,— Officer Masters. That’s the way we find intimate
names for people. They come out of nowhere. I like it. It covers two
bases at once, Officer Masters.”
“May I call you
that when you’re fucking me, Sir?”
“You can call me
that anytime you feel like. It makes me feel just a little taller,—
Officer Masters,— yeah,— that’s all right.”
Different
Masters have different ideas about fucking. That doesn’t mean one is
better than another. It’s just different. Master Earl, I soon learned,
was the Cadillac of Master fuck’s. When you were on the receiving end
of his cock it was like riding in a Cadillac. You knew you were going
to get where you were going in comfort and style. He was what I could
best describe as a smooth fucker. No sudden leaps or unaccounted for
slams. He was very deft and controlled. He knew where he was going and
how he was going to get there. He even mapped out his stops along the
way. In short, I never had a man fuck me with as much control or
care, but he demanded his slave work as hard as him to get there.
He used his
slave’s ass most efficiently to get the most feeling from each stroke.
Nothing was left to chance. He was in complete control, and was
convinced of his power over me. He demanded his slave give everything
to serve his all consuming need. I would have, at that moment, walked
through a bed of fire for him and thanked him afterwards for allowing
me to please him. He was not against getting way up in there,—
deep in my ass,— and rooting it out like any home boy; but, he expected
his slave to work with him to get him off. He would have none of his
slave laying back playing Mr. Fun-buns. He expected his slave to have
his ass right where it should be when he needed to take a good strong
plunge into his slave’s depths. He expected his slave to suck his ass
hard on his shaft as he slowly pulled it all the way out only to plunge
it in again to the depths of his slaves being.
This was a fine
man, with a fine large tool, who knew how to use it, how to fuck a
slave’s ass, and he pulled out all the stops. He’d stop every now and
then to correct me on something that was small but important to
him. He felt I could do better, and we’d try again. I’d get
it right that time. He’d smile and tell me I was a good slave to get it
that fast. He demanded I keep my ass right where he could get his best
stroke, and I could see by his face he was getting it.
“Officer
Masters,— Sir,— I need to tell you something.”
“That you come
while getting fucked, Son?”
“Yes, Sir, how’d
ju’ know?”
“I called Jeb
and asked his permission before I called you last Monday night. He was
thrilled I wanted to have you. I told him if you accepted I had every
intention of getting into your butt. If that was against one of his
rules I wouldn’t call you. I’d just wait until you were put on the
market. He assured me it was fine with him. We had his blessing and to
fuck the snot out of you,— which,— I’m working on right now.”
“But, Officer
Masters,— I can’t always control it; leastwise, not yet; maybe training
will help. I don’t want to disappoint you again.”
“I understand,
slave, but it doesn’t present that big a problem. Training will correct
that, if not, we can work on it together. For right now, tonight, you
do your best not to come, and if I’m convinced you tried your
hardest,— I’ll let you come, how’s that?”
“Thank you,
Officer Masters, you’re a good Master.”
“Well,— I’ve had
enough pleasure fucking for tonight, and we’ve got to get to bed,— so
your Master, Officer Masters, is going to shoot his come into your hot
little slave’s ass.” Master Earl started in for his final run to
fuck me. He started with a good steady rhythm and moved the pace up a
bit when he found another spot he liked fucking. He shifted to fucking
faster and harder.
“Put that ass up
there slave! Don’t ever make your Master hunt for it. Put it up there
for him so he knows he’s welcome to take all he wants and come back for
seconds.” He had me so hot by that time I began concentrating on each
and every stroke and it paid off. Five or six deep strokes with my ass
right there to welcome his stiff shaft up my butt, he broke apart
and exploded into my slave hole. Damn,— he was a good fuck and made me
work for it, too. I liked that. Part of his getting it was me working
hard to make sure my slave-boy ass was at the ready.
I knew I’d get
better at it. I was finally being used by men who knew how to use
another man, a slave, to get what they needed. A Master who demands his
slave work with him, makes the slave feel more involved in bringing a
big piece of meat slamming into him to its full potential. By demanding
his slave work with him, a Master teaches his slave how he likes his
cock to be received into his slave’s hole. It becomes an important
element of individual slave training. Training, insisting, demanding a
slave work with his Master to give him the best possible fuck he can
provide for his owner.
A Master should
make damn sure his slave sublimates his own needs (he should be trained
well enough his only need is to serve) then patiently teach him what
and how he expects him to contribute to his pleasure. Repeat a
particular move you like over and over again until it becomes reflex
muscle action; almost like a choreographer works with a dancer. Then
repeat it over and over until they get it right. Laugh if you will, but
it works the same way. The Masters out there who are getting the most
bang for their bucks are the ones who have taken the time to work with
their slaves. He’s not going to know what you want unless you show
him. It’s part of discipline, which he craves. It’s good for him,
and the ultimate payoff is one Hell of a good fuck.
He feels your
move coming, he reacts to receive you like you’ve trained him every
time. No guess work for him. He’s ultimately trained to give you a
great fuck. He feels proud and rewarded he can give you the pleasure
you will come to demand from him. That’s all he needs, and maybe a pat
on the head now and then, but don’t over do it. Once he’s trained, got
it down pat so you’re satisfied with his performance, then demand
nothing but his best every time you slam your dick into him. Accept
nothing less. If he gets sloppy, start again from zero and make him do
it over and over for hours if necessary. I guaran-damn-tee ‘ya
he’ll never give you a sloppy fuck again. His only reason for being a
slave in the first place is to see to your pleasure.
Master Jeb made
damn sure his slave trainees would be a certified good fuck on
graduation from his class. He'd make them do it over and over until it
became second nature for their ass’s to respond a certain way. He knew
most every Master’s particular fucking style and needs. He was able to
teach any slave to become a competent fuck on the end of his big fat
dick. He was a Master. He was a great teacher. He was my love. He was
my friend. As it turned out, Master Earl was a fine Master as
well. Somehow, I managed not to come, I was so busy working with
Officer Masters, I forgot.
“Okay, slave,—
you kept your end of the bargain. Now, I’ll keep mine. I want to see
for myself if you can come while getting fucked. Since I don’t know
your fucking likes you’re gonna’ have to guide me. If you need it
harder, faster or deeper, let me know.” With that he started in
again but this time he didn’t worry about me putting my ass up. He was
taking this away from me, and I was getting off on it. I pulled
him to me and whispered to him,
“Please, Officer
Masters,— your slave-boy would very much appreciate you fucking him so
hard his eyeballs rattle. That is, if you find me worthy of a good hard
fuck’n. Please, Officer Masters,— .” I begged. He didn’t bother to
answer, and I think outside of the giant animal, I got the single
hardest fucking of my life. I shot all over his chest and mine. We lay
together; he was laughing.
“Damn,— slave,—
that was hot. I think we could come together without much problem
‘cause I sometimes like to pop my nut with a good hard ride like that.
I’m glad you like some good, old, down home hard riding. Your slave
butt and Officer Master’s pet snake are gonna’ be good friends.” I said
a prayer of hope.
Part II ~The
Desert Foxes
“I gathered
stars from off the desert’s floor, My Master smiles
to see me count them all, Fallen there
from angel’s tears so long ago, His big hands
reach to catch me when I fall.” Slave’s Song~ W.
D. Dux Posthumous
Master Earl
helped me down from the sling and kissed me again. I fell to my knees
and asked permission to clean him.
“I need to take
a refresher course in Master 101 from Jeb.” he smiled down at me. “I’d
forgotten a slave's role and need to clean his Master after sex. Of
course, Son,— you should,— as a courtesy to any Master. These rituals
should always be followed for your sake as well as your Master’s. It
will encourage imprinting each time. Clean me good.”
I cleaned my
come off his hairy chest and belly, then moved to his still half
hard cock and cleaned it. The head of his dick had the foreskin
creeping back over as it was going down in hardness. It was my first
time to put my mouth on his cock, and I got my tongue under the head.
He was clean but the wonderful taste I got was his,— only his. I
continued to suck it and tongue his piss slit sucking bits of come and
pre-come. My Master had other ideas as he began to gently allow more to
enter my throat. I got the idea he was trying not to get hard to work
it into my throat as deep as possible. I got about three quarters of
him down my throat. I could tell he was impressed as he forced
another inch down. I was still trying to take more when I felt his big
hand behind my head give a slight tug forward and my lips were touching
his pubic hair.
“Easy, slave,—
that’s enough. Hands to your back and relax. Your Master’s gonna’ enjoy
this. AAAaahh,— there’s nothing sweeter than using your slave-boy for a
toilet.” I felt him relieving himself into my gut. He was using me for
his personal toilet, and rather than be disgusted, I felt pride he was
comfortable enough to empty himself into me. He stopped and began to
pull out. I sucked and licked him clean. Officer Masters then ordered
me to open my mouth and laid the head of his dick gently on my tongue.
“Close your lips
around it, slave. I’ve heard you like the taste of man piss.” I shook
my head slightly in agreement. “I held back a little for you to
enjoy, but I had to see if what Jeb told me was true. Damned, if it
ain’t. Here it is, Son, enjoy.”
My Master let
about a mouthful go and stopped. I swallowed Master Earl’s piss slowly.
It was like champagne to me. I nodded my head and he gave me another
mouthful. He had only one more for me, and I held it for some time
until Master ordered me to follow him upstairs. On the way Master Earl
asked me a question, but I didn’t answer. He turned around on the
stairs and smiled at me.
“You will
swallow, please.” I blushed, did as ordered and smiled
sheepishly. He roared with laughter. “Come on, Son, let’s go to
bed,— we’re both exhausted.”
We were. I slept
the dream of angels while feeling, full, warm, well fucked, secure, and
comfortable being held in the arms of my Master. Saturday morning
Master Earl was up early and let me sleep for a while. I awoke to a
beautiful view of Silverlake and the surrounding area. I got up quickly
to see if I could help. Master had juice ready and ordered me to
jump in the shower. He wanted to get me ready, then I could help him. I
did as he ordered, but didn’t hose out because I wanted to hold his
come in me. I got out, toweled off, and reported back to the kitchen.
“Perfect timing,
Son. To the bedroom.” He ordered. We went to the
bedroom. He had my plug cleaned and lightly greased, snap his
fingers, and pointed to the bed. I wasn’t sure what he wanted me
to do.
“Oh, I’m sorry,—
that’s an order to hit the position. Ass right at the edge of the bed,
grab your legs and pull ‘em down almost to your chest and slightly out
to give your Master instant access to your hole. That’s one of the few
times you’ll hear me snap my fingers at you because I want you that way
yesterday,— understand, Son?”
“Yes, Master.” I
said following his order.
“Did you hose
out, slave?”
“No, Master,— I
wanted to leave your seed in me.”
“And, well you
should! Good answer boy! Ass a little higher slave, don’t ever make
your Master have to reach for it.” I raised my ass. He grabbed
the big plug and snapped it in faster than any one ever had before.
‘Damn,— he’s
good!’ I thought. ‘A Master for sure. With no hesitation he
plugged my ass.’ He turned to wipe his hands on a towel. I still had my
ass in the air. He wiped my ass around the plug to get any excess
grease cleaned up.
“Lower you ass a
little, slave,” He pressed on the base and it sunk in a little further.
“On your knees, on the bed, slave.” I got on my knees and he grabbed me
around the waist with one big arm. Damn,— he smelled good. He held me
tight and pressed in again on the base.
“Push back,
please.” he ordered. I pushed back and as he pushed I felt the big plug
lock into place. “It finally seated, didn’t it, Son?” He asked.
“Oh, God,—
yes, Sir,— that’s the way it should fit. That’s why everyone talks
about seating it, and I thought it was just a game.”
“No Son,— that’s
the way a slave should be plugged if done properly. I just happen to
know how.”
“Thank you,
Master.” I fell to his feet and kissed one big boot then the other.
“I like that
action, slave. If at any time I snap my fingers and point to my boots
you’ll know what to do, right?”
“Yes Sir,—
but do I just kiss them or start cleaning them, Sir.”
“Good question,
slave. What you did just then will be fine. As a matter of fact I liked
it so much, I’d like to see that again.” He snapped his finger real
loud and pointed to his boots.
I again fell to
his feet and kissed each boot except on the last one I did get in a
couple of good licks with my tongue.
“I saw that,
slave, but I won’t fault you. In a way, it’s a Hell of a
compliment.” He said very quietly as he stooped down and pulled my head
up to attached his leash to his dog collar. Then holding my leash
pulled me to his face and kissed me hard.
“Good morning,
slave. You make me proud today,— understand?”
“I will, Sir.
I’m proud to be your slave, Master.” He looked me in the eyes and
quickly kissed me again.
“Now,— pull on
your chaps and boots and that’s all.” I quickly dressed and joined him
in the kitchen.
“Go to my office
and call Jeb." he instructed me, "I think he knew you’d be staying the
weekend and wanted you to call. His number is on a pad on the desk, but
before you go,— slowly turn around once, for me. Good! Now once the
other way. Fine! Go on!” He said with a big shit eating smile on
his face. I went to Master Earl’s office and dialed the number.
“Hello.” It was
Big Jim. My heart leaped to my throat.
“Hello, Master
Jim, how are you?” Master Jim laughed hardily, my heart melted and ran
down into my stomach.
“Good to hear
your voice again slave-boy and how goes it with you?”
“I’m fine,
Master, thank you.”
“The answer is
still yes, Son”
“Me too, Master
Jim,— me, too.” Was all I answered. He hesitated for a minute and I
could tell that wasn’t the answer he was hoping for.
“I’ll get Jeb
for you.”
“Thank you,
Master Jim.”
“Hello.” It was
Master Jeb.
“This is your
slave calling, Master.” He was noticeably silent for a moment.
“I needed to
hear that this morning, Son,— thank you.”
“For speaking
the truth, Master?”
“Yes, well,—
you’re no dummy, you know damn well what I mean.” I laughed to
lighten the mood.
“I do, indeed, I
apologize for playing with you, Master Jeb.”
“Nonsense, keeps
me on my toes. Enough of that,— now, SPILL!”
“I’m being well
cared for, Master Jeb.” I heard him giggle.
“Damn it, Beau,
you’re yanking my chain. The first time I get my whip on you I’m going
to remind you of your disrespect for your old Master. Now you know what
I’m talking about, cut to the chase, kid, before your old Master has a
coronary.”
“Forgive me,
Master, I’m afraid I have too much piss and vinegar in me this morning.
More of the former, less of the latter.” I laughed.
“So Earl didn’t
believe me, huh? Thought the old man was exaggerating? Good for
him.” We both fell out laughing.
“Does Master Jim
know where I’m calling from?”
“I haven’t
discussed it with him, but I think he has an idea. I won’t tell him
unless he asks. I’m not going to lie to him. He won’t ask. I think he
has an idea but doesn’t want it confirmed.”
“I wouldn’t want
you to lie to him either, Master Jeb.”
“Okay, what
else?”
“Well,—
I’m currently under house arrest. I can’t go home, and I can’t
come to your house this weekend. I have Master Earl’s dog collar around
my neck, his plug in my ass, my chaps and boots on, and — oh yes,— I
have a leash hanging from my collar,— all of which, I’m very proud of.”
“You damn well
should be proud, boy. You walk as tall as you can beside that man. He’s
one of the finest men I know, and you’re to please him anyway you can.
You be on your best slave behavior. If he wants to show you off to some
friends watch him for cues, he’ll let you know what he expects. He
keeps his slave well disciplined. You could use a little of that,— do
you good! He likes to show his slave off, have them jump through
hoops to entertain his guest. Don’t over do and embarrass him, just be
ready and don’t hesitate to obey even the smallest order especially in
front of his friends. That’s very important. You’ll do just fine, I’m
sure. It’s the ‘Fatherly Master’ in me that makes me say those things.”
Master Jeb again laughed.
“I’ll
obey, Master Jeb, with pride.”
“You’ll probably
be there ‘til Sunday evening,— if he lets you go then. Stay with him,
Son, he needs you right now.”
“I feel that,
too, Master Jeb, some very strange things have happened that I need to
sort out with you. Things I don’t understand. It’s nothing about Master
Earl it’s,— ”
“Ghost hanging
around, Son?”
“Yes, indeed,
Sir! Don’t want to go into it further right now, but I’ll call
first chance I get. Sunday evening if he sends me home.”
“He won’t.
You’re the first he’s had since Wes. If I know Earl, and I do, he’s
drinking you like a tall, cool glass of water.”
“I would agree
with that analogy, Sir.”
“Just remember,
my good slave,— ”He started the sentence and I finished it. “— I
could do worse than Master Earl.”
“It’s not nice
to mock your owner, boy.” He said laughing.
“Indeed, Master
Jeb, it is disrespectful. I trust you will correct that in me.”
“Not your sense
of whimsey, Son, that’s a delight. You’ll learn what I want you to
know, other things will be discussed, but you will ultimately do it my
way. You’ll begin to see it’s the only way.”
“Yes, Master,
I’m looking forward to it. Now if he invites you back for next weekend
you tell him he’ll have to check with me. I think I want you here next
weekend. He needs to skip a weekend. Trust me with this one, Son. I
know you probably would want to return next weekend.” I was quiet for a
moment.
“I’ll obey,
Master Jeb.” I said quietly. I heard Jeb suck his breath, afraid he
offended me.
“You’re really
taken with him, aren’t you, Son?”
“Does the term
‘ton of bricks’ mean anything to you, Master?” It was my time to sigh
deeply. “Forgive me, Master, you’re right, and I trust your judgement.
I’ll obey in good spirits.”
“Now, that’s the
slave I’ve come to know. You will become a joy to some good Master.
Maybe even Officer Earl? Let’s hope. Do you think you might be
comfortable being his property?” he asked.
“In a heartbeat,
Master Jeb,— in a heartbeat.”
“Look at it this
way, Son,— you’re here next weekend,— he may use you the following and
perhaps the last weekend before you enter training. That’s fair isn’t
it? Then during your training every Master whose serious about bidding
on you will be allowed one weekend with you. Maybe two depending on
when you feel you’re ready. See,— I haven’t forgotten our agreement.
Earl D. may have a weekend with you as well because I know he’s
interested.”
“I agree,
Master. I would enjoy spending next weekend in your arms.” Jeb was
quiet again then he laughed.
“You know,
anyone else said that to me I would know I was having smoke blown up my
ass, but you,— well,— I know you mean what you say and that’s part of
your gift, Beau. Don’t ever lose that, Son,— speak from your heart, and
you’ll be right every time.”
“Master your
words have been proven to me several times this weekend, and I have
followed your advice. Its worked every time.”
“You better get
back to your Master, Son, thanks for calling.”
“My pleasure
Master, and Master Jeb,— ?”
“Yes, Son?”
“I love you.”
“Thank you, Son,
and I’ll see you next weekend”
“Goodbye, Master
Jeb.”
“Goodbye, Son.”
Master Jeb needs
me next weekend. I’ll try to spend more time with him and hope Big Jim
doesn’t monopolize me. I say that now, but when I walk through that
door and see him, Woah! What did he mean by, ‘The answer is still yes?’
At least Master Earl is up front. He let’s his wishes be known, and he
says enough to let you know where you stand with him. I’ve always had
trouble with games and cryptic things people say. They say one damn
thing meaning another. Why? Why don’t they just say what they fucking
feel? From the heart, not the head. Did Big Jim say that to test the
water? To find out if he can still push my buttons.
Well, he did, it
worked but my answer was just as cryptic. It meant nothing. Me, too!
Me, too, what? Still believe in love at first sight? Yep! Still do!
Didn’t give him a Hell of a lot. Maybe that’s his way of asking for
more? Then let him be the man/Master and ask for what he wants. Maybe
I’m expecting too much of him? Don’t go there, Beau. You’ve gone down
that road before, and it leads to the pits. Follow your heart,
kid, its been working so far. Maybe Kenny Rogers was right, sometime
you got a’ hold ‘em, sometime you got a’ fold ‘em, but I would add for
God’s sake don’t let ‘em see your hand until they call. I walked back
in the kitchen and apologized for being so long. Master Earl was busy
and showed me a couple of things to do.
“How is the
Master?” He emphasized ‘the’ as a sign of respect.
“He seemed fine
and in good spirits, Sir.”
“Good,— I have
to get dressed, and I’ll be back in a minute. If the bell should ring
let my guests in and introduce yourself as Beau, Master Earl’s weekend
slave, and get them a drink if you think you can or suggest they make
it themselves if you don’t know how. Are you comfortable with
that, Son?”
“To tell them
I’m your weekend slave? Yes, Sir, I just wish I didn’t have to use the
word ‘weekend’.”
“Good point,
then don’t! If it needs to be explained we can later.” I fell to his
feet and kissed each boot.
“Thank you, Sir.”
“That was
important to you wasn’t it, slave?”
“Yes, Sir,— I
guess I’d like to have the fantasy for a while, whether it comes true
or not. I’m proud to think of myself as your slave, and I’ll walk a
little taller, Sir.”
“Good,
slave, damn good!” he left to change his clothes. I did the little jobs
in the kitchen he instructed and got a glass of water. The door bell
rang. Show time. I didn’t know whether to see if he was coming, but I
wasn’t going to hesitate following his order. I started for the door. I
opened the door and stood for a moment while the two fine looking older
gentlemen put their teeth back in their mouths. I guess I wasn’t
expected to open the door from the surprised look on their faces. “Please come in,
Sirs, my name is Beau and I am Master Earl D.’s new slave.” The first
one looked at me, opened his arms, and enveloped me in a big bear hug.
“Welcome to the
family, boy.” He had tears in his eyes. “I’m Oscar.”
“Well, damn,— if
he gets a hug, so do I.” The bigger one who looked like an older body
builder picked me up in his huge arms, swung me around, set me down,
looked me in the eye, then offered his hand.
“Beau, I’m
Billy. Indeed, you are welcome to the family!” Then he looked at my
crotch, moved his hand toward it, and looked up, “May I, Son?”
“You don’t need
to ask, Sir.” I hit parade rest and threw my hips toward him. He gently
felt my penis, then gently examined my low hanger. He whistled.
“They’re beautiful, Son.”
“Thank you,
Sir.” Oscar was watching, “I want to feel the other end” I turned my
back side to him and grabbed my ankles.
“Damn, Billy,
would you look at that, he’s already got him training on a plug. Looks
good, Son, let me take a quick feel.” He pushed in on the base a
little. “Billy, he’s got it seated all the way.”
“You know Earl.
If he’s gonna’ do it, it’s gotta be done right.”
“Who does he
look like, Billy? Could be his brother?”
“Too easy,
brother. Dead ringer for the cowboy.”
“My thinking
exactly. Uncanny isn’t it, but I think he’s a bit bigger than
Cowboy.”
“Hard to
tell. Just as pretty though.”
I was blushing
and listening. About the time I raised up, Master Earl came back
into the living room, and God, was he stunning. He had on a pair of
leather pants with a cod piece, his knee high Wescos, and a pure white
Mexican peasant shirt. It was a pull over that had an open V at the
neck and just showed off enough of his chest hair to be drop dead
handsome. At that moment, I was the proudest I had ever been to claim I
belonged to someone as stunning looking as this man even if it was only
for the weekend.
“I see you’ve
met my new slave-boy, Beau.” He walked over an kissed me on the
forehead then put his arm around me.
“Master Earl,”
Oscar said, “Why didn’t you tell us? You damn near had to call the
paramedics. Two old slaves almost had coronaries when this gorgeous
young man-slave open the door for us. I asked Billy if we had the right
address?”
“Yes, you big
handsome Master, you know you can tell us anything. For a minute
I thought Dan and Cowboy were here visiting.” Billy added.
“He does look a
little like the cowboy. Well,— it’s a long story you’ll hear
today. But it’s best if we tell it a bit at a time.”
“Master Earl,
may I ask Mr. Billy a question?” Billy didn’t wait for Master Earl to
reply.
“Of course you
can, Son!” I still looked up at Master Earl and he nodded.
“Sir, you look
so much like a boyhood hero of mine. I carried a picture of him hidden
in my wallet seven years in Vietnam. His name was Clancey McGee. Do you
know him?”
“You put him up
to this, didn’t you?” Billy shot a look at Master Earl
“You’ll
learn! He’s polite, humble, but when he comes out with
something,— I’ve learned the hard way not to challenge it because it
comes from the heart. If he said he carried your picture seven years in
Vietnam you can take it to the bank, and no, I didn’t put him up to it!”
“Son, I’m
Clancey McGee.” He grabbed me and hugged me.
“Sir, you don’t
know how many times I’ve had sex with you. I jacked off every night
looking at pictures of you and thinking, ‘God, if I could just lay in
that man’s arms one night I wouldn’t have to go to heaven.’
When I was in Nam I’d get your picture out, look at it, and wonder what
you were doing as I jacked off.”
“Son, I
don’t know when I’ve ever gotten a nicer compliment.”
“He seems to
have that effect on a lot of people,— me especially.” Master Earl
smiled.
“To be honest,
Sir, I still have your picture in my wallet.”
“Don’t look a
me, Billy! If he says he has it in his wallet, it’s there.”
“May I be
excused, Master, and I’ll get it.”
“Sure,
Son.” I went to the small bedroom and got my wallet from my levis
and walked back into the living room. Master Earl was making Bloody
Marys and asked if I wanted one. I declined. I have stuff in my wallet
I’ve had for years. I looked in my secret place under a leather flap
you wouldn’t notice if you didn’t know it was there. I gently unfolded
the precious piece of paper and saw Clancey smiling at me. Billy moved
behind me and was looking over my shoulder.
“Well, God
love you, you do still have it! Son, I’m blown away!”
“Me, too, Sir. I
still would love to spend a night in your arms. Only with my good
Master’s blessings, of course. God brought us together for some
reason.” Billy was giddy.
“Is he for real,
Master Earl?”
“The most real
person your likely to meet in a while, and he’s mine.”
“We couldn’t be
more thrilled.”
“Don’t get too
thrilled yet. There are hurtles we have to jump, but we’re talking
about it, right slave?”
“Yes, Sir,
Master.”
“Have you taken
him to Master Jeb, Master Earl?”
“You could say
that.” Master Earl winked at me reminding me of the police escort to
Mt. Washington.
“Master Jeb’s
opinion, Sir?” Oscar asked.
“A natural.” was
all my Master said.
“I thought so
when I walked through the door” said Billy.
“Me, too.”
added Oscar.
“That isn’t bad,
Son,” Oscar looked at me, “In fact it’s so much easier for us than it
would be for someone else to become a slave. We love you for wanting to
explore that for yourself. You’re in the right group of people to have
family and a rewarding life.”
“Amen to that,”
said Billy, “ I was with the same Master for forty years.” As far as
we’re concerned don’t bother to look any further, you’re with the right
Master.”
“Thanks, guys.”
Master Earl said to them,”You guys want to get comfortable, feel free.”
“God!” Billy
sounded exasperated “We thought this was part of your torture keeping
us dressed.” Billy laughed, “Come on, bro!” Billy nodded to Oscar. I
sat my billfold on the bar and sat on a bar stool. Master Earl came to
me and put his arms around me.
“I’m so proud of
you I could rape your pretty ass right here in front of them. You
scored some major points with that picture. Billy thinks you’re a
little bit of all right. Way to go, slave!”
“You’re my
Master, if you wish to rape me I’ll struggle and put on a show
for them.”
“You really
would, wouldn’t you?”
“I wouldn’t
hesitate to obey your order, Sir, but what if they have strokes,
Sir?” Master Earl hooped, and we both laughed.
“Good thinking,
slave, we wouldn’t want that!”
“You made
Billy’s day.”
“Billy’s made my
day as well, Master.”
The two men
walked back in the room with no clothes. They were both buffed
physically with no fat on them anywhere. There was absolutely nothing
between their legs. They weren’t the least bit shy about it either.
They walked over to Master Earl and knelt before him. They each
proceeded to kiss one of his boots. He offered a hand to each and
they kissed the back of it and placed it to their forehead. They
held it there for a minute.
“Welcome, good
slaves to our home. We bid you welcome. You're safe within this place.
Arise and show this Master your love.”
I was
stunned. Not by their lack of equipment but by the ceremony. It
was unbelievably touching. I was even more proud of Master Earl as
commanding and genuine as he was. He believed the words he said, and
they did, too. It was fucking beautiful.
“We might as
well get this over with.” said Billy. “Beau,— you’re a perfect
gentleman not to stare, but we wish you would and ask us anything you
want. We will answer you as honestly as we can.”
“I’m not shy,
but I don’t have any questions right now. I’d love to get to know the
both of you, but I’ll find out what I need to know as we get
acquainted.”
“He’s not for
real.” Oscar said laughing.
“Of course he
is, Oscar. He’s a brother for cries sake. Remember us, when we first
met? We couldn’t believe each other was real.”
“Good point. I
apologize, Beau, I was just kidding, anyway, you knew that.”
“Yes, Oscar, no
apology necessary.”
“Hey, hey, hey,
guys,— can I get into this conversation?”
“Take a number,
Master Earl,” Oscar said. We all laughed.
“It’s gonna’ be
one of those day, huh? I have a nice belt down stairs with your name on
it, Oscar.” Master Earl said laughing.
“Oh, God!” Oscar
put the back of his hand to the side of his mouth as if to whisper only
to me but loud enough everyone could hear, “Please, Beau, start crying
or tell him I truly hurt your feelings. Anything,— work with me, Kid,—
but get me the feel of that belt.” We all roared with laughter and
Master Earl hugged Oscar.
“Don’t ever
change.”
“Not much chance
of that,— this tired old slave with no Master.” Oscar said poignantly.
“I think,” said
Billy “it’s going to be a fucking, fantastic day. We have much to be
thankful for and celebrate. And, you,” Billy said holding his arms out
to Master Earl, “look at you! You have the glow of a prepubescent boy
who just got his first blow job.” We all laughed again.
“Beau, will you
give me a hand? You guys can grab something, too. You know I run an
equal opportunity kitchen. We’ll get this food to the deck and have
brunch. We can talk while we eat.”
Everyone grabbed
something and we walked out into the beautiful California sunshine.
Master Earl’s decks were so private no one could see you if you walked
around nude like me, Billy and Oscar. I hadn’t noticed in the dark, but
on the third level was a pool. Then the dungeon must have been an old
pool changing room or cabana as they’re called. It was a beautiful lay
out, and you could see forever. We had brunch. Oscar and Billy relaxed
after a couple of Bloody Marys and were having a great time. We were
quickly getting to know each other. They couldn’t ask me enough
questions. I answered all their questions, but when they began to ask
about Nam, Master Earl came to my rescue.
“Guys,— Beau
didn’t have it too well over there, and he has a hard time talking
about it. He doesn’t want to put you off, he just can’t. Maybe
someday he will, but I’m not going to push him.”
They apologized,
but I assured them not to worry, I just haven’t been able to talk about
it. I don’t know if I ever will. If I do, it will probably be
with Master Earl or Master Jeb. I can talk about bits and pieces, but
if I get going, I’m a vegetable for days afterward. It’s not pretty.
I’ve told Master Jeb a few things, he’s so easy to talk to. He’s like
talking to the dad I never had.”
“You love Jeb,
Son?” Billy asked.
“He’s becoming
important to me, Sir; and, yes, I have thought about it, and I do love
him.” I said quietly. Billy reached over and grabbed my hand and
squeezed it.
“So do we, Son,—
so do we.” he said in almost reverent tones.
“He’s been a
saint to me.” Oscar added.
Master Earl just
raised his hand as if to say count me in. I got up to start carrying
plates and dishes in the house. Billy helped as Oscar and Master Earl
talked. We finished and were about to return to the deck when Billy
accidentally knocked my wallet onto the floor. Stuff from my wallet
went everywhere. Billy was apologizing and picking every thing up. He
came across an old photo of me and my little buddy, David, in Nam.
“Is this you,
Beau? He asked
“Yes, Sir, me
and David, a close buddy. Well,— we were more than just close we were
lovers until he was shipped back.”
“May I show this
to Oscar and Master Earl, Son?”
“Sure, Billy.” I
finished in the kitchen and returned to my seat to finish my fruit.
“I don’t want to
be overly dramatic, but you both have to see this picture. This is Beau
and his close buddy in Vietnam.” Billy said handing Master Earl and
Oscar the picture. They looked at it, looked at Billy, then looked at
me. Master Earl got white as a sheet for some reason. Oscar’s mouth
dropped open.
“Oh,— my,— God!”
Exclaimed Oscar.
“You all right,
Master Earl,— Oscar?” Billy asked.
“Yeah,— we were
gonna’ tell you two about some weird stuff that happened here last
night that turned my head around. Now this,— it all fits somehow. It
makes perfect sense.”
“Something wrong
with my picture, Master?” I inquired.
“He really
doesn’t know. That’s how he is, he hasn’t put two and two together.
You’d be able to tell. Let me ask you, Son, who is this in the
picture with you?”
“My buddy who
caused my accident last night, Master. David Johnson. We were pretty
close,— well Hell,— we were lovers in Nam. I lost touch with him after
he returned to the States. I re-enlisted and did another four years.
David went home. We wrote for a while. I still have all his letters. I
don’t know were he is now. I was a medic in Nam, a field corpsman. I
stayed behind with the squad to save as many wounded as we could, but
we got ambushed. We all ran off into the jungle, and I got separated
from the army guys. I wandered in the swamp and jungle for a couple of
days ‘til I found this dry cave under some brush. That evening I saw
fires,— thought it was our guys and eased up to see. Well,— it was
Charley and right in front of me was a bamboo cage with the cutest,
small American G.I. I’d seen in Nam. He looked in my eyes, and I put my
finger to my lips for him to be quiet.
It was a Cong
POW holding camp,— a makeshift job. They kept the guys in three foot
square bamboo cages. When things got quiet, I cut David out and we
quietly made off to the cave I’d found near there. I left him there. I
went back and got five more out before dawn. I tried to get the seventh
one out, but he was all ready dead from wounds and exposure. David got
pretty scared. Hell, Master Earl,— we all were. We were just kids out
of high school for cries sake. I started comforting him and one
thing led to another,— .”
I started to get
tears in my eyes telling them this story. Master Earl had tears running
down his cheeks. Billy and Oscar were both crying.
“Did I say
something wrong, Master?”
“No, Son,—
not at all.” He handed me the picture across the table. “Was this
the guy you saw in the bedroom last night?”
“Naw, Sir,— that
little guy was buffed out to the max. He was hot, Sir!” Billy and Oscar
were still visibly shaken. Master Earl got up and told me to wait, he’d
be back in a minute. He returned with two photos. He handed me one of a
young soldier in cam fatigues. It was my buddy, David.
“That’s David,
Sir,— where’d you get this?” Then he handed me another picture, and it
was the guy in the bedroom last night.
“This is the guy
in the bedroom last night, Master Earl.”
“Look at the two
pictures closely, Beau.” Master Earl requested. I studied them for a
moment and David looked a little like the buffed out dude. No, it
couldn’t be? God wouldn’t do that to me. Chills ran up my spine then
crawled over my head.
Wes was David!
He was within walking distance from me for several years. I broke
down. Master Earl came to me, got on his knees, hugged me, and we
all started to cry. I hurt all over. I was in anguish, but I didn’t
give a shit who knew. I never lost it that bad. I was a mess. We all
migrated to sitting in the middle of the deck with our arms around each
other for comfort as we shared a common unifying bond.
“But why, David
Johnson?” I said quietly directed to no one in particular.
“Remember,— I
briefly told you about Walker Johnson who was Wes’ savior. He saved Wes
from his father. Wes used the Johnson name until he got out of Vietnam
and then went back to his family name because he still loved his
grandparents on his mother’s side. They were the folks who he was going
back to visit as well as the Johnson family. All through the military
he went by the name David Johnson. Then he met Jeb and Jeb talked him
into going back to his original name to heal old wounds. Jeb was right.
It went a long way toward Wes finding his place in the world”
“But, Master,
Billy & Oscar are gonna' think I’m a fruit cake. David came to me
and made love to me last night. I wasn’t making that up. The man he
took me to was his dad, Walker Johnson,— I’m sure of it.”
“God as my
witness, Son,— I believe you.” He briefly recounted the story to Oscar
and Billy about me being strapped down tight and him leaving me to
marinate with two quarts of water up my ass.
“When I came
back, he had come all over the place. Like someone was there and had
sex with him. I came down a little too hard on him, but I wondered how
the Hell could he have come when his hands were strapped down tight. I
even checked to make sure. Then he told me how it happened. I believed
him then, and I certainly believe him now.”
“David told me
something, Sir.”
“What’s that
Beau?” Master Earl asked
“When we were in
Nam, he taught me this mental trick where you can move outside your
body and enter this safe room where there’s no pain, discomfort, or
anxiety of any kind. He always told me, if I needed him, to go to that
room, and he would find me. He told me about the fourth or fifth time
his dad nailed his penis to the porch, a shining man came to him and
showed him how to get to this room so he wouldn’t be in pain. When he
demonstrated there in Nam, I could stick a hat pin through his hand and
he wouldn’t feel it. I never did,— it’s just if you did, he wouldn’t
feel a thing. Anyway, he taught me to go there and once or twice when
we really had some killer weed, he would take me there. We would make
love.
Oh, God,— we'd
share the sweetest love,— then he would bring me back. I would insist
it was all a pot induced, lucid dream, but I would have come in my
pants. David wouldn’t because he couldn’t. I think his penis was too
fucked up from what his old man did to him. That didn’t stop him from
letting me have my way with him. I’m sorry, Master, but it was sweet.
The sweetest love I’ve ever known.” I broke down and cried again. “I’m
sorry, Master Earl, I know this must be painful for you to hear;
however, it was before you knew him as Wes.”
“Beau, forget
me,— forget us,— forget them,— let it out. Say whatever your heart
tells you. Nothing you say could damage the feelings I have for you at
this moment. I’m sure that goes for Billy & Oscar, too.”
“Double it,
Beau.” Oscar said quietly.
“Yeah!” Agreed
Billy. Oscar got up.
“I need a drink.
Billy and Master Earl held their hands up to Oscar. Okay, and Beau,—
you’re getting one whether you want it are not. You need to calm down,
and we’re here to listen and help. What da’ ya’ drink, Son.”
“Anything with
Vodka.” Master Earl told him. Now,— how did he know that. I hadn’t had
a drink since I’d been here. Ah, yes,— he asked Master Jeb because he
wanted to have what I drink available. Very nice of him. I liked him
better every hour.
“You know,” said
Master Earl, “Wes rarely spoke of Vietnam, but I remember every time he
did it was always in the context of his buddy,— oh, my God,— his
buddy, Andy or Beau, who saved his life. It just came back to me. He
said Beau taught him to read and write poetry. He said he fell very
much in love with him. He was like a big brother he never had. He told
me if it hadn’t been for you, he wouldn’t have made it through. He said
you re-enlisted and he came home. He tried for years to find you. He
desperately wanted me to meet you.” He paused for a moment. “Then I was
right last night. He’s somehow managed to get us together, and the rest
is up to us.”
“I was in such
discomfort last night I’m glad he came to me,— ”
“I’m sorry,
Son,— I’m starting you off a little rough, but please, remember,— I
haven’t been a Master for almost four years now.”
“I’m not
complaining, Master, I wanted to please you, but I knew I wasn’t going
to make it unless I could remember what David taught me. All of a
sudden this hand appears out of nowhere and grabbed my soul or that
part of me that can leave my body and pulled me into the room. It was
David. It was so good to see him. He told me he was dead, but he wasn’t
going to desert me because I’d saved his life. If I hadn’t he never
would have found the one true love of his life and for that he would
always be grateful. He never told me about you, Master. I guess he
thought we’d figure it out. Then it was David who listened to me last
night. He was all buffed out. Damn,— he looked good, but he
didn’t tell me he was David. He didn’t tell me his name, but I knew I
knew him.”
By this time we
were sitting on the deck, I was leaning up against Master Earl, and he
had his arms around me with his hands resting in my lap.
“Oh, I
forgot something.”
“What’s that,
Beau?”
“Wes said for
you to go to your desk. Open the pencil drawer, near the top, feel
along the left hand side there is a button. Press it and a secret
drawer will open. You’ll find some things there for both of us.”
Excited we all
followed Master Earl to his office. With the pencil drawer pulled out
Master Earl felt up underneath. “It’s here, I
can feel it, here goes.” he pressed the button and a drawer popped open
right under the top of the desk. You wouldn’t know it was there it was
so well disguised. In the drawer was two envelopes with Master Earl’s
name hand printed on each as Officer & Master Earl D. Shaw. He held
the envelopes up for me to see.
“Does the title
ring a bell, Beau?” He asked.
“Oh, my
God!” I exclaimed “Officer Masters.”
“We’ll explain
later.” Master said to Billy and Oscar. The two
envelopes to Master Earl were marked differently. One had no
instructions which we assumed could be opened now. The second said to
only be opened in the presence of Master Jeb Henshaw. There was an
envelope addressed to Master Jeb Henshaw. There was a letter size
envelope and a larger one that felt like it contained a small book. My
complete name Andrew Beaureguard James Jr. was hand printed in
David/Wes’s handwriting. I ripped open the envelope and pulled a book
out. It was a hand written volume of poetry entitled “Slave’s
Song.” I taught David to write poetry in Nam, and he started a
journal there; however, this was remarkable. It far surpassed his
teacher. The words were liquid metaphors that jumped off the page as I
read several of the cantos.
“Gentlemen, this
is the stuff of genius.” I declared. Most of it was extremely personal
and related to Master Earl. He was moved to tears by a couple of simple
lines that referred to him as being the keeper of Wes’s soul. Billy and
Oscar were fit to be tied.
“Do you realize
the ramifications of all this ?” Billy exclaimed. I looked at him and
said, “Why do you think you’re here, Billy?”
“What do you
mean, Beau?” Billy asked.
“You’re here to
be an observer! Would you have believed this if you hadn’t been here to
witness it? I can’t believe you’re here by accident, so logic dictates
you have a greater role to play in all this. Were you and Oscar close
to Wes?”
“We were very
close. He shared many things with Oscar and me. To play any kind of
role right now, couldn’t make me happier. I’ve become so staid
since George died. I don’t know what to do with myself. When you’ve had
a Master tell you everything to do for forty years, you miss his
direction. I never had to think for myself. All I had to do was take
care of George and pleasure him anyway I could. That’s the only thing
in life I every really did well, and it’s only because he had the
patience to take a kid off the streets of Hollywood and train him how
to please him. I knew what I was getting into. He never lied to me. He
was always up front with me. I miss him terribly.” Billy started to cry
and Oscar and I were comforting him.
“I mentioned to
you a while ago I didn’t think our meeting was a fluke." I encouraged
and consolled Billy, "I think we’ve come together for a reason. It’s
too perfect, you being my childhood hero and meeting today. What are
the chances or the odds of that happening? They must be astronomical
against such a thing. What are the chances Master Earl’s deceased slave
was my buddy and lover in Nam? What are the chances I met Master
Jeb? Spookier yet, is meeting Master Earl. He pulled me over for
speeding on my bike, then ended up escorting me to Master Jeb’s with
flashing lights, siren,— the whole nine yards.
I used to think
we had free will. I still do, except now, I'm convinced that friends,
loved ones, and relatives watch over us and are capable of guiding us
in certain directions toward a goal they feel would be good for us. We
still have the choices to say ‘yea’ or ‘nay’ but we may be more highly
influence by the spirits of loved ones than anyone may have expected.
It all seems too neat. It’s bringing all the parts of the puzzle
together but it seems to be nailing home a point that maybe I’m missing
or don’t want to see.”
“Well,— Hell,—
maybe it’s because I’m the simplest one here, but it seems obvious to
me. He loved the two of you, and wanted you to be together. So far he’s
done pretty damn well, I’d say.” Oscar stated.
“Then what about
self will and two people falling in love without help.” I asked Billy.
“Don’t look a
gift horse in the mouth, Beau,” Oscar continued, “Wes, if you’re
listening, I like mine about six-four, doesn’t have to be good looking
or rich, just demanding as Hell with a large whip, and a comfortable
cock that only wants to fuck a eunuch.” We all laughed, Oscar was funny
but partially serious.
“I lived as a
total slave to a man who made every decision for me and him. Thank God
I had the sense to let him. I wouldn’t be anybody today with out
George. He left me well off and able to do anything I please. Free
will? No thanks, I’d rather have my Master back telling me what to do.”
Billy added “I‘m sometimes miserable without him. If it wasn’t for
Master Earl, Master Jeb, and several others, Oscar and I would have
driven off a cliff somewhere.” Lamented Billy again.
“Well you guys
looked after me when Wes was killed, so it works out. I’ll never forget
what our family did for me. I’d like Beau to experience that, too. I
don’t think Jeb has told him too much about the family, and it’s best I
don’t ‘cause he enters training under Jeb in three weeks.”
“Oh, Beau,— I
wish I were you and could go through it again. I was one of Master
Jeb’s first group of slaves he trained and let me tell you, don’t
resist the man. You’ll fall so deeply in love with him, you’ll think
your heart is going to brake when you have to say goodbye, but you’ll
survive. You’ll never stop loving the man. As time goes by, you’ll
realize you never really said goodbye. He’s a constant influence in
your life. I have never stopped loving him.” Billy said
“Me either.”
said Oscar.
“Count me in on
that one.” said Master Earl.
“Is Beau going
to be put on the market or have you issued a claim for him to be sold
directly to you?”Oscar asked.
“I haven’t felt
Jeb out yet. Hell,— Beau and I only met about a week ago. It
feels like I’ve know him half my life though, so we really haven’t had
time to sort out the details. I know better than to interfere with
Jeb’s training. Beau contracted to enter training the same day I gave
him a ticket for speeding on his bike. I wouldn’t issue a claim for
Beau as it’s Jeb’s intention to put him on the market. It wouldn’t be
good ethics for me to do that. To be honest, I wouldn’t really like to
think about claiming Beau until he finishes training.” Oscar and Billy
agreed. “I know too many
Masters who thought they could train their own slave; to Hell with
buying one. Wrong move. They have to be trained by an impartial
third party who lays out the non-variable basics for them. Then, when a
Master buys them he can add his own discipline and training to further
mold the slave to be what he needs. By training, they are forever
imprinted by Jeb’s teaching and guidance. As you know, it’s powerful
and remains with a slave all his life. Just as they are, Jeb’s slaves,
fresh out of training, can be a joy for any man who buys one even if he
doesn’t want to spend too much time training them himself. You go to
any function the family has and you can immediately tell the
self-trained slaves as opposed to a third party approach like Jeb’s. He
says Beau is the last one. He’s retiring after Beau. He said he was
only taking Beau because he felt he was special,— a natural.”
“Who will do the
training then?”
“I believe he’s
training Big Jim Johnson, Wes’s uncle, to be the family’s new Dungeon
Master.”
“I’ve heard he’s
bringing a couple other trainers along. The only problem is they’re
Masters and he insists they go through the same training as the slaves
to understand what they must teach and what they must not teach.”
“Sounds
reasonable to me, but then I’m a slave” said Oscar.
“You’re right,
Oscar, and I’ll tell you why his approach is good and reasonable.
Remember the trip I took to Europe several years before I met Wes? I
was just a hit and miss top not knowing what I wanted out of a slave or
why. Well,— I didn’t go to Europe. I entered Master Jeb’s training as a
slave for three months. I asked him to train me as a Master. He
refused. He told me the only way I would become a stable Master, learn
what I wanted and what I didn’t want, was to take his training as a
slave for three months. I had to see through the eyes of a slave to
become a competent Master. I’ll tell you this, if I hadn’t gone through
with it, I would never have been able to handle Wes, nor this young
man. I never told Wes and this is the first time I’ve told anyone
because of stupid fears of people not understanding.
I know who I am,
but I couldn’t have said that fifteen years ago unless I submitted to
Master Jeb. And, yes,— when he and I are alone together, out of a deep
love and respect for him, I call him ‘Master Jeb.’ I know he loves
me. He’s never told me, but he’s proven it over and over again. I
think he's proud of me as a Master. He's deferred to me on several
contentions within the family because he felt my position was correct.
He asks my opinion on many issues, doesn’t always follow my advice, but
I’m flattered he asks. That being said, I don’t have the least bit of
fear of Beau having any negative thoughts about that admission. He
would still consider being my slave, right Son?”
“That’s a
rhetorical question isn’t it, Master, because you all ready know
the answer.”
“Yes, I
do, slave.” He grabbed me and hugged me. Billy and Oscar chortled and
clucked.
“What about me,
Beau,— now that you know the guy you jacked off to all those
years didn’t have a cock and balls when those pictures were taken,—
would you still want to spend a night in his arms?”
“More than ever,
Billy, with my Masters permission, of course. Name the night, and I
still wouldn’t have to go to heaven after that. Look at you. I don’t
know your age, but the bod is still there, and — well,— if you think
I’m shit’n you throw you’re ass in a bed, get Master’s permission, and
I’m yours for the evening. I’d do anything to or for you. Not to leave
Oscar out I’d spend the next evening with him, Master willing.” Billy
and Oscar couldn’t get their arms around me fast enough.
“Now,— it’s my
turn to ask you, Billy,— may I?”
“Of course you
can, silly.” I looked at Master Earl and he gave me an okay permission
nod, a smile, and a wink.
“I saw you ask
Earl’s permission, slave.” Billy said teasing. “I think the handsome
slave-boy’s smitten Oscar.” I just laughed as I began to feel his
smooth front. It was so hot. “Beau,— that’s
the best compliment I’ve had since your last one.” Everyone laughed at
me blushing because my dick was sticking straight out and dripping.
“You can always
tell if a man is lying to you that way.” said Oscar. I felt underneath
Billy, my cock getting harder, and scratched lightly. Billy went nuts
but wouldn’t move away. I stopped and he looked at me, my dick, and
turned to Earl.
“Please, Master
Earl, consider letting your slave keep his,— his are so handsome.”
“We haven’t even
discussed that, but I would guess Beau has a pretty good fix on me. He
knows, first of all, I won’t accept any more slave clauses in a
contract. It will be in our contract that it’s my right to have any
body modifications I see fit except limb amputations and shit like
that. Furthermore, I make no promises one way or another. You wouldn’t
buy a pet and sign a clause that says, even though you own him, you may
not have him neutered. That’s his owner’s decision, not his. I feel the
same way about Master/slave contracts. If I pay to purchase another man
who has agreed to total slavery then he’s given up that right. I’ve
thought this out, and I make no apologies for my convictions.
Others may feel
differently,— that’s fine. If I buy him that decision becomes mine.
However, I would be honest with my new slave. Don’t acknowledge my
claim if he has a problem with it. I may take him the first night and
have everything removed. But if I do, I don’t expect to hear any
whimpering or ‘Kings-X’ from him because it will not be a game. If I
want it done, it will be done even over his protest. He can hate me or
thank me later, but it will be done. I may choose not too, but he
shouldn’t gamble on my goodness. I might wake up some morning, look at
him, and think, ‘He doesn’t need those anymore. I think I’ll have them
removed today,' and it will be done.
As you know I
have a side that can be very demanding. He’ll know it’s a possibility
when and if he decides to acknowledge my claim. That point has become a
stumbling block for a lot of Master/slave relationships. It won’t be
with us. I’m very fond of Beau, but he knows I won’t be swayed to
reconsider my position. If I make a claim for him, and he decides to
acknowledge my claim there will absolutely be no misunderstanding. By
acknowledging my claim he is saying to me, in essence, I give my trust
to you, along with my body, to become your possession. You own me body
and soul. If that’s understood, then he must also understand he will
trust me in all things. Otherwise, it’s meaningless to me or at best we
become lovers and Master/slave in name only. I can find that in any
leather bar in L.A. I don’t need to pay money for it. Beau will
know if it comes to be, he will be my property. Just like my truck,
bike, or any other possession.
I can’t and
won’t have it any other way! It’s also not fair to him. If he’s seeking
control over his life through consensual slavery, don’t play at it, do
it, and graciously accept the consequences. I think I know Beau well
enough all ready to know he won’t have any problem with it. He’s coming
to realize for his emotional stability and the guidance he’s looking
for, he’ll settle for nothing less in a Master than total control.
He’ll trust me in all things; likewise, I learned from Jeb’s training,
I have an unwritten responsibility to him. I would never take him to
the dungeon when I was angry with him. I wouldn’t consider having him
neutered because I wanted to get back at him or as a weapon of fear. I
learned from Jeb a slave most wants to serve his Master from joy, love,
and praise, not fear.”
I was so stunned
by Master Earl’s strength of convictions all fears about the issue
vanished, and I fell to his feet and kissed each boot.
“If you had your
contract in your hand, I’d gladly sign it right now, Master, with Billy
and Oscar as your witnesses if you found me worthy to claim. I’d
acknowledge your claim proudly and have no problem signing your
contract. My body and my life will be given over to your complete
trust. I’d transfer my control to your ownership. I don’t want anyone
to ever say Beau is not truly your property. If losing my genitals is
the proof you need to show the world, then have it done with my
blessing. I hadn’t thought of how I would feel if the subject came up
but I’m glad it did. You’re beginning to know me pretty well. You’re
correct, Master,— with you, I wouldn’t consider entering your service
under any other circumstances.
Until this
moment, I never considered the passion of these relationships. Now, I
realize to be content in a relationship with you, I must give you total
control, nothing less. Not only for your sake but for mine as well. For
me, I will be serious about becoming your total slave, and your strong
position tells any slave, it’s not a game with you. If you need proof
of my sincerity, I will expect to lose them the first night. I’ll
understand it's to be done because you want it done. I won’t expect or
need further explanation. It’ll be enough for your slave to know it
pleases you. If you want them, I understand, you paid for the entire
package, they’re yours to take.
There will be
neither whimpering nor begging for you to reconsider. I will go proudly
under the knife and cope with the loss in good spirits. I would display
neither anger nor hatred toward you for your decision. Furthermore, if
you decide it’s to be done I don’t expect you to discuss it with me
before hand. It’s your decision and I don’t need to know. Besides, if
you schedule to have it done with no word to me it says to me you feel
comfortable enough with our agreement and your role of ownership that
you feel free, with no guilt, to order me to submit willingly without
further discussion. So you know, now, and you won’t have to explain it
to me again, I will sign a contract with no misunderstanding, that you
very well may want to have them removed.”
I kissed each of
his boots again to seal my statement. Master Earl pulled me up to his
face and kissed me passionately.
“Beau, if I
wanted them this minute, you would lay across the table and hand me the
knife.”
“Yes, Master, I
would.” Oscar and Billy clapped and yelled, “Well done slave-boy, well
done. A natural if we ever saw one.” they allowed, perhaps I was.
I meant everything I said to Master Earl, and I would sign his contract
to be his slave tomorrow. I looked into his eyes, and they were
watering up.
“Masters don’t
cry, Master Earl” I said joking.
“The Hell they
don’t!” said Oscar, “The real ones do, the wannabes don’t.”
“How long will
you be in training, Beau?” Billy asked.
“I don’t really
know. Master Jeb told me he wouldn’t put me up for sale until I
come to him and tell him I’m ready. I don’t know.”
“Took me three
months.” said Billy.
“Took me four
months," said Oscar, "but I had some major hang-ups.”
“Beau, do you
want to take this letter to Master Jeb” Master Earl asked.
“No, Sir,— I
will if you order me to, but I feel it might be better if you presented
him with it. I may need a little back up here to be creditable.”
“That’s a good
point, Son, I think I’ll call and have him over for breakfast tomorrow
morning. You guys are staying over, right?”
“Are you
kidding? And miss what’s gonna’ happen next? Not on your
life, Master! Yes, we’ll be staying, if we have to sleep in the damn
car.” Billy said.
“Is Beau always
this full of surprises, Master Earl?” Oscar asked.
“So far he’s
averaged two every four hours,” everyone laughed. “and we still haven’t
told you about last night.” Master Earl added.
I opened my
envelope and there was a letter to me and a photo. The photo was a
duplicate of the one I had, and I passed it around. I read the letter
out loud,
Dear Beau,
If you’re
reading this, I’ve probably passed on. Here’s a book of my poetry. It’s
my gift to you for having taught me the craft. I’ve never shown it to
anyone, not even my Master. Do with it as you will. They are very
personal and are about two people: you and my Master. This letter was
in a secret drawer in his desk he didn’t know about. I’ve left a letter
with information about the hidden drawer with Master Jeb Henshaw with
instructions not to divulge this information until you’ve had a chance
to explore your need for control in a Master/slave relationship. Don’t
hate me for suggesting you need to find out about that part of your
personality.
Take a good look
at my Master and ask yourself if you could serve and live your life to
please this man. He needs someone exactly like you, and you need
someone exactly like him. Show him this letter, and both of you sit
down and talk. He was the love of my life, and I wanted to make sure he
had some happiness if I’m gone. He was wonderful to me, but I
wasn’t really a good slave for him. He’s a big, handsome man, and as
you know I’m a runt. I was an emotional cripple, and he patiently
nursed my soul back to health. I would trust him with my life. I would
certainly trust him with one of the sweetest loves of my life,— you.
I've never been
able to tell him I love him. I can write it in a letter, but I can’t
tell him to his face; although, he's the greatest love of my life. It
never mattered to him,— he loved me unconditionally.
Beau, you’re
capable of great unconditional love. That’s what it takes to be a good
slave. I know you loved me and always unconditionally. Who could help
love you? You'll do anything for anyone who needs you, and all I ever
saw you ask in return is appreciation and respect. With Master Earl
you’ll have that and so much more; your cake and eat it, too. You'll
find he is the answer for your almost pathological need to serve.
Become his slave, Beau,— you will become his prize, I know. I loved
you, and I know he will, too. Before you can give yourself to him or
acknowledge his claim, you must first learn to become a slave. You're a
natural. You’ll learn more about that later. Ask Master Earl’s friend,
Billy. Ask Master Earl, he will put you in touch with our family’s
slave trainer, Master Jeb. He’s a wonderful man, and I still love him
very much. Take his training, acknowledge Master Earl’s claim for you
if he finds you worthy to become his slave, and begin a new life. A new
way of living. You won’t be sorry you did. I’ll never be far from you.
Thank you for my life. I will always love you,
David (Wes)
I broke down
again, and there wasn’t a dry eye in the room. Master Earl opened his
letter and passed it to Billy to read aloud. He said he didn’t think he
could show as much strength as I did reading mine.
My Dearest
Master, owner, keeper of my heart, caretaker of my soul, possessor of
my love (Yes, all of those things.)
If you’re
reading this I’ve probably passed on. I haven’t left you by any choice
of my own,— please, believe that. Neither would I ever consider
breaking my sacred bond to you. You have been the single most important
person in my adult life. I love you like I have loved no other. Funny,
I can write it, but I wonder if I’ll ever be able to say it to you.
I’ve come to an understanding of why and will explain later in this
letter. You’ve overlooked that inadequacy in me. You knew from the
night you took me to dinner I fell in love with you. You were so good
looking I could hardly say anything all evening. I thought anything I
might say would sound stupid.
I told you that
shit about not being for you so I wouldn’t be disappointed when you
didn’t make a claim for me. Then to my amazement you did. Me,— who had
nothing to offer a man who had everything. I thought, 'Well, he just
wants me for a domestic slave, but I’ll try to please him.' Then when I
came to live with you, I fell more in love with you, but it seemed like
I couldn’t do enough for you to notice me. I wanted to be happy being
your domestic slave, but I was weak. I got so lonely. That’s why I was
crying myself to sleep every night. The greatest single moment in my
life was when you motioned for me to share your bed that night. It was
an act of supreme compassion. It was an act of love. Your love has been
unconditional, and for that, I love you even more. There is none other
like you.
There is,
however, someone I want you to try to find for both of us. You remember
me speaking of my buddy in Vietnam. His name is Andrew Beaureguard
James, Jr. I don’t think I told you how we met but Beau cut me out of a
cage the Cong had me in and helped me and five or six other guys escape
to a nearby cave. He saved our lives. I was so afraid that night he
held me, comforted me, and we ended up making the sweetest love in
front of six other guys. They never said a word. We didn’t hold back
either. Beau fucked the snot out of me as they watched.
It was almost
like they were grateful for the entertainment. They all beat off while
we were 'plunged into a vortex of unmentionable passion.' (Read that
one time in one of those fifty cent fuck books) We finally got back to
our division but it took us about a month. A lot happened to demoralize
us, but Beau was strong for all of us. He wouldn’t listen to
complaining or negative talk. We were going to make it, or he was going
to beat the holy shit out of each of us. (He could have, too!) We
almost became more afraid of Beau than we were Charlie.
He knew what he
was doing, and got us all back safely. Every man who was with us fell
in love with him and me. No one questioned our love. They all defended
and protected us. To them, it seemed like the only thing that made an
iota of sense in that Hell hole was our love. I still love him,
Master. It doesn’t diminish the love I have for you. You know
that anyway. My point in all this is Beau is meant to be your next
slave.
Don’t mourn for
me too long. It hurts me to think you might. You have so much to give
and even more to demand of a really fine slave. I was so blinded
by your beauty, I was bananas most of the time. I apologize for not
being a better slave. In my defense, you spoiled me rotten. If I don’t
make it to heaven it will be okay. My time with you was enough to
sustain my soul for an eternity. My greatest wish is for you to find
another slave who will bring you the dedication and admiration you so
richly deserve. That’s why you must find Beau. He has the heart of a
slave. I have seen him do things for the least of men, and all he asked
is their appreciation and respect.
He has been
highly decorated for bravery. He was and is embarrassed by such. I
don’t think he realizes his deep need to serve others will never bring
him happiness until he understands where he belongs. He should belong
to a good Master. You’re that Master, Sir. He belongs by your side. A
strong loving heart, a lovable clown, and more tender, understanding,
giving love you will never find.
You were the
physical and emotional pinnacle of love for me in this life; however,
for your sake, I must tell you, Beau, was the most tender, gentle,
sweetest, love I’ve ever known. I know you will feel the same about
him. If you find him, please introduce him to Master Jeb. He will show
him the way. I have left him information about Beau, and know in my
gut, my judgment of Beau being a natural born slave will turn Master
Jeb into a blood hound. I’ve also explained to him why I want him to
look for Beau. It’s for you. He may find him before you do, but if you
ever loved me, and I have no doubt, please, Master, make an effort. You
won’t be sorry you did.
There are a
couple of things I have purposely left undone that will be taken care
of by Master Jeb. The other envelope is for you, but please surrender
it to Master Jeb until certain things come to pass. Please honor my
memory and grant me this indulgence, Master. It is for you and
Beau I spin my web.
I know it’s
possible to grieve for someone a long time. I won’t be so indelicate to
suggest not to morn for me, but there will come a time when you must
set grief aside. I want, with all my heart, for you and Beau to bond in
a Master/slave relationship. To do that, you must let me go of me. If
it comes to pass there will be no containing my spirit. I will dance
all over God’s heaven, that is, if he needs a slightly spoiled slave.
Beau once
criticized a poem of mine and said “Brevity, brevity, brevity! See how
much you can say with the least amount of words. It’s not the words you
put into the poem that makes it sing, it’s the ones you leave out.” I
have rewritten this letter four times and it can’t be more brief to say
what I want to say. I just hope you can see the love coming through the
words. I can write to you of the great love I’ve had for you, but
telling you is almost impossible for me. You have forgiven me a
thousand times for that when I know there were tender moments you
really needed to hear it. God, as my witness, my wonderful Master, I
felt it and wanted to shout the words, but they wouldn’t come. The
harder I tried the more difficult it became; so, you needed this
letter to confirm what you all ready know. There was a conflict within
me because of the clause I stupidly insisted be in your contract. To
tell you I loved you meant, I was, for that moment, your equal, to
impress you of the importance, to me, of the words. I really didn’t
think it out.
My greatest fear
after we bonded was for even one moment, the length of time to utter
the words, I would not be your slave. I never wanted to ever consider
for even that length of time I wasn’t your slave. I came to realize and
accept I was not your equal by choice, and I was so grateful for having
made the choice I couldn’t betray it for a moment. That’s what you mean
to me, Master. I could write the word I love you a hundred times, but
it will never express the love that story tells. In my heart, I will
always be your slave. I know you feel the same, but there is much room
in your big, strong heart to share your life with another. Have Beau
read you some of my poems some quite evening. They are unabashed love
poems for the both of you, and you know what? I did trust you,
Master. It took great strength and love to order me to do that. You
turned my life around and taught me to stop feeling sorry for myself.
I’m grateful to you for that, and you never gave me reason to doubt you
for a moment. I’m still your humble and loving slave. Please Master,—
forgive me for leaving you.
I will always
love you, your slave forever,
Wes
Everyone was
dead quite for several minutes, and then, we all broke down again,
almost at the same time. We had been through an emotional ringer. We
needed to get away from the heaviness.
“Master could I
have your permission to get drunk?”
“Only, if we can
join you?” Everyone laughed and we went to the kitchen for another
drink. Master Earl excused himself to call Master Jeb to invite him to
breakfast the following morning. I was left to talk with Billy and
Oscar who were agog with what happened and the content of Wes’s
letters. How could he have planned this? And, there was a good
possibility it may damn well come true. Master Earl dialed Jeb’s number.
“Hello” It was
Jeb.
“Good evening,
Jeb. This is Earl.”
“It’s good to
hear your voice, young man. How’s my favorite graduate?” Jeb laughed at
his joke.
“Thank you for
that, Master Jeb. I’m fine,— haven’t been better in a while.”
“You know,— of
all people,— I am thrilled to hear you say that, Earl D., but tell me,
Son,— what's brought you such joy?” Jeb chided.
“Well,— for
one,— a beautiful, handsome, young man who is humble, courteous,— I
could go on with enough good words to sound like the definition of a
boy scout, who makes me laugh and has a big heart,— the heart of a
slave,— a natural slave.”
“I’d say that
pretty well sums up my new initiate, Beau.”
“Thank you for
allowing him to come here this weekend. It has meant a great deal to
me. I’m grateful.”
“I thought you
might find him interesting.”
“Interesting?
That kid's had me on an emotional roller coaster since he got here, but
none of it was his fault.”
“Not to be
indelicate, but I might guess you’re both exorcizing some ghosts.”
“Yes, Sir, we
are, but the ghost won, and I can’t say I’m sorry. Its been a great
release you must hear about. That’s why I’m calling, to invite
you to brunch tomorrow around eleven,— if your free.”
“I’d enjoy that.
Can I bring anything?”
“Just your sexy
body.”
“By your
command, Master Shaw.” Jeb said laughing.
“Billy and Oscar
are here for the evening. They’ve had a front row seat on this
emotional roller coaster ride, and they would love to see you. So would
Beau and I. We have some very strange, wonderful, miraculous things to
tell you.”
“That Beau and
Wes were lovers in Vietnam?”
“Damn, you knew
all along?”
“Yes, Earl, but
I was sworn to secrecy until certain things happened, and I knew from
your hedging they had. It will be wonderful to finally talk to you
about it.”
“I should have
known the Master of us all would know, and — you know,— I have no
problem with that. Things are evolving as they should. I don’t want to
rush anything.”
“We’ll talk
tomorrow. Thanks for calling, and thanks for your gracious
invitation. I'll look forward to it.”
“Good night,
Master.”
“Good night, my
fellow Master, sleep well with your new slave tonight.”
“Thank you,
Jeb.” Earl said quietly.
Earl put the
phone down and stopped for a minute. He thought how fortunate he was to
have a friend like Jeb. He was once embarrassed to have anyone know he
went through slave training; although, Jeb never told a soul. 'Your
greatest fear was not that someone would find out you went through it,
you were afraid they would find out you enjoyed it, and fell in love
with Master Jeb like any other slave. I’m not afraid any more to admit
I still love him.' Earl thought to himself. Master Earl returned
to the kitchen where we were well on our way to happy time. He looked
thoughtful yet relieved.
“How is Master
Jeb?” Billy asked.
“He’s fine and
he’ll be joining us tomorrow for brunch.”
“Something
wrong, Master?” I asked.
“Well,— things
keep getting stranger and stranger. I told him we had some miraculous
things to tell him and he answered, ‘That Beau and Wes were lovers in
Vietnam?’”
There were
noticeable gasps from the three of us.
“Then according
to the letter to you from Wes, Master Earl,— he set Master Jeb on the
trail looking for Beau.” Oscar deducted.
“That means
Master Jeb and my meeting was not random." I stated, "He came to the
bar looking for me. I remember the door boy told me an older, fine
looking gentleman was asking about me.”
“Is that
upsetting to you, Beau?” Billy asked.
“Not in the
least,— as a matter of fact I’m deeply moved someone, Wes or Master
Jeb, thought enough of me to drop their nets to find me. I’m
overwhelmed and flattered.”
“I’m glad to
hear that.” said Billy
“Beside the
result would be the same either way. I feel more certain every day I’m
making the right decision, and after my time with Master Earl it’s
almost chiseled in granite.”
“Are you tired,
slave-boy?” Master asked putting his arms around me and kissing me on
the forehead.
“I’m emotionally
exhausted.” I said laying my head on his big chest.
“How would you
like to retire with your Master and relax in his arms?”
“That sounds
wonderful Master, but we have guest to think of.”
“We’re going to
bed, too, Beau, so don’t worry about us. Which bedroom, Master?”
“You guy bunking
together? There’s enough bedrooms for separate. Two upstairs, one
larger down.”
“We’ll camp in
the two uppers, if that’s all right?” Billy replied.
“There are clean
sheets on the beds and towels in the night stands. Have a good night,
and we’re glad you’re here.”
“Thanks, Master
Earl, we wouldn’t have missed this for the world. I would wish you a
good night, but why carry coals to Newcastle.” Oscar said then laughed.
We all hugged each other and Master Earl took me by my leash and gently
led me to his bed. We got to the bedroom, and I was a vegetable. He
went to take my collar off, but I asked if he would mind leaving it
own. He kissed me and said he would.
“Now take your
boots and chaps off.” I didn’t respond. He dropped to his knees in
front of me, put one of my heavy boots on his upper leg, and started
undoing them. I became aware of what he was doing and got embarrassed.
“No, Master,
please,— I can do that.”
“Quiet, slave,—
sit there and let your Master take your boots off.”
“Yes, Master.”
Tears started running down my face. “I’m sorry, Master.”
“Listen to me,
slave, that’s enough, stop that. You haven’t failed me. I’m doing
something for you because I choose to, and will from time to time. You
need my help right now. I may be rusty as a Master, but I know how to
be humane.” He had my boots off, stood me up, and took off my chaps. He
snapped his fingers at the bed, and I instantly hit the position. He
had a towel in his hand and popped out my plug. Then made sure I was
clean.
“Get in bed,
Son, I’m going to check on our guest, and I’ll be right back.”
“Yes, Master.”
He returned after a few minutes, and I watched the most beautiful man
in the world slowly undress in front of me. When he was naked, I
marveled at how he could looked more beautiful without clothes. If it
happens, losing my genitals would be a small price to pay to be owned
by the most handsome man on the West Coast. I found myself thinking
about how it might feel. As long as I could please him, what the Hell
did I care. He crawled in bed next to me and invited me into his arms.
It was an invitation I couldn’t refuse.
“If every day is
like this one slave, there will never be a dull moment.”
“I hope not,
Master” I reached up to kiss him under his chin.
“Beau, I’m
really taken with you. Oh, fuck that! I’m falling in love with
you. I never was one to beat around the bush.”
“You amaze me,
Master.”
“How’s that,
Son?”
“You’re not
afraid to lay it on the line and neither am I. I know where I stand
with you, and I don’t have to second guess. So you don’t have to second
guess me,— I’m very much in love with you. What I said earlier in front
of Oscar and Billy, I meant. If you make claim for me, I will
acknowledge it with absolutely no reservations or hesitation,
understanding and accepting your contract as presented to me to sign.”
“Then,— you’re
telling me, you would accept my claim and become my slave?”
“Yes, Master, I
would, in a heartbeat.”
“I have faith it
will happen. You know what you need, slave?” “Master said kissing me
behind the ear.
“Yes, Sir, I do.
I know what would really relax me right now.”
“I’d be happy to
relax you, Son. I could use a little bit of relaxing, myself. How
about a long, slow, gentle, deep fucking?”
“I’d appreciate
that Master. It always makes me feel better to have you inside of me.
Let me get around here to get some spit on you.” I started lathering
him up, smelled the leather he had been wearing, and his clean male
perspiration. I got carried away and cleaned his hairy balls. They
tasted so good, I almost couldn’t stop, but I knew he needed my butt. I
spit some more on his beautiful dick, and returned to my position in
front of him. He didn’t asked if I was ready; he took control and took
my ass in one strong swift stroke; the only way a Master should take
his slave. Damn,— this was the icing on the cake. He was true to his
word and gave his slave the sweetest long, slow, deep fucking I ever
had. We heard whispering and Master turned away from me and spoke.
“Are you boys
lost, have a bad dream, or just want to watch?”
“Oh, Hell,
Billy,— be honest with him.”
“We just wanted
to watch for a minute.” Billy said.
“Well,— come on
in, make yourselves comfortable, and watch me fuck my slave.”
“You’re a good
Master, Master Earl.” said Oscar.
“I can see Beau
doesn’t mind either” Billy giggled.
“Damn!” I said,
“My cock gives me away every time”
“Feeling all
right, Son?” Master Earl asked me.
“Better than all
right, Sir, you feel terrific inside me. Could you give me a couple
more of those good, long, slow, deep ones, Master,— they really relax
your slave?”
“Glad to slave.
This fuck’s for you tonight, anyway.” Billy and Oscar sat on the floor
to get the best view of Master Earls big cock working slowly in my
ass. Once in a while I would push back with my hips and slide
down the shaft on my own to meet his gentle thrust.
“Well,— Master
Earl,— I don’t think your going to have to do a Hell of a lot of
training with this one. Looks like he’s pretty good at using that
little man-hole.”
“Billy, really?”
said Oscar. “Just watch and enjoy.”
“You guys are
welcome to watch, I’m not shy.” I said “I’m so proud to have Master
Earl inside me, he could erect bleachers and sell tickets. He
feels so good I wouldn’t mind anyone watching me play catcher for him.”
Master nuzzled me behind the neck. I forgot about Billy and Oscar and
allowed myself to drift on a gentle sea being lightly moved with the
undulating motion of the waves. The next thing I knew I woke up, and
Oscar and Billy were gone. Master Earl was breathing softly behind me
with his dick still solidly lodged in my ass. I didn’t want to wake him
so I wiggled my butt down further on him. He awoke for a moment, took
one long slow deep stroke in my ass and nibbled on my ear. He locked
his arms around me and sunk it just a little deeper. I looked up and
whispered,
“I love you,
Master.” He hooked his square jaw on my shoulder and kissed me on the
cheek. He pulled almost all the way out and slowly sunk his big tool
all the way to the base.
“What did that
say to you, slave?” He whispered gently nuzzling me behind my ear with
his bushy moustache.
“That my Master
loves his slave.”
“Exactly! I’ve
fallen in love with my new slave. Now go to sleep, slave.”
“Master?”
“Yes, slave?”
“Could I have
just one more?”
“Sure, Son.”
“Ooouuu,—
aaahhh,— thank you, Sir.”
“Good night,
Son.”
“Good night,
Master.”
End Chapter 6 ~
The Ties That Bind Copyright 2004
Waddie Greywolf All rights
reserved ~ Mail to:
<waddiebear@yahoo.com>