may came home
with a smooth round stone, as small as a
world and as large as alone,
for whatever we
lose (like a you or a me) it’s always
ourselves we find in the sea From:
maggie, molly, millie, and may~ e e
cummings
That night I
slept in the arms of the biggest man on Earth. Big Jim didn’t try
to interest me in sex. I was devastated leaving Master
Earl. He didn’t tell me to shape up, get a hold of myself,— he
let me get it out. They both might someday be considered for
canonization because of their patience with me. I was like a
school girl on her first day at boarding school. I cried in his
big arms and apologized.
“Nothing to
apologize for, Son. If you weren’t a little broken up leaving
your Master then I’d be suspicious. You really love him, don’t
you?”
“Yes, Master
Jim, I do.”
“Well, Hell,
kid. This will all be over before you know it. You’ll go to sleep
one night and whisper in my ear. ‘You were right, Master Jim,
it’s all over, and I’m going home with my Master tomorrow.’”
The big man had
a way about him. He could simplify the biggest of problems.
I rolled over and kissed him.
“Thanks, Master
Ox, I love you, too. You make the clouds roll away and let the
sunshine through.”
“It’s easy,
little one, when I have the sunshine laying next to me.”
I melted and he
kissed me with a message of welcome back that made my ears smoke.
I was home with my giant. No harm could come to me. Still, he
didn’t try to take me. I had my head on his stomach and Babe kept
winking at me as if he were trying to talk to me.
“Come on, kid,
just a little taste. It’s been a while and you know how good I
taste. Go ahead,— he won’t care. I’ll tell him to cool it.
That’s it, kid,— just a little further with that tongue, and you’ll be
right in my piss slit. AAAAhhh, yes! Now just the
head. You don’t have to take it all. Just let me lay there
for a while and relax. Let me rest in your hot little mouth for a few
minutes. Come on, kid! You know how good I taste.
That’s it, ...aaahh yeeeessss. Feels fine, Son. Suck on me
just a...aaahhh, yeesssss. See,— I told ju.’ Didn’t I tell
you? Uh-hum! I do taste good, don’t I? See how you
are? Forgot all about me for that big hot cop dick. Ummmm,—
see how good I am to you,— I’m giving you a lot of extra juice.
Lap that shit up, kid! Um-hum.
Yeah, you like
the taste of that big man’s fluids. Want some more, slave-boy?
Can’t get enough of him can you? Suck that good juice and let it slide
down that tight little throat of yours,... go on! Suck it down,—
make you grow up big and strong, like daddy. Um-hum. We’ll get
that little throat all lubed up. Get it ready for you to do some good
face fuck'n with this big ole piece of meat. You know you want
it,— bad! The old man ain’t had anyone suck on me since you
left. Yeah, I knew you’d like to taste me again. Them
juices are pretty damn tasty ain’t they, Lad? Now, you
don’t have to take no more of me. I’ll live up to my end of
the...aaaahhhhh, shiiiiit, yeeessss! Oh fuck!!! God, the old
man’s gonna’ love that. I know I do! See how much better I
taste when you get my head down your throat like that. I see that
little throat hasn’t had a good workout in a while. We better
take care of that right now, boy. Holy shit, Son!
You take two or
three more hits like that on me, that old man I’m attached to ain’t
gonna’ be able to hold back, and I’m gonna’ have to spit down your
throat. You’d better hold back, kid! I ain’t just a’ whistling
Dixie here, Son! That old man’s building a head of steam what’s
gonna’ blow your head clean off. Oh, Sweet Jesus, that feels good, Son,
you taking me all the way down your throat like that. Can you
feel me expanding that tight little throat of yours?
Um-hum. Gettin’ it loose so you can work that big thing.
Um-hum. I know that old man up there is about to lose it so you better
back off quick if you want to catch me in your mouth, Son. You know how
crazy you are about tasting my spit. Here it comes, Sweet baby,
you’ve earned it. Better open that little skull-pussy a bit wider
slave. You’re getting a two week’s worth of a giant, king-size load.”
Babe spit into
my mouth a bodacious load, once, twice, and again until I had a
mouthful of giant blue ox come. Boy, was my jaw sore. I rested
Babe in my mouth and I swallowed a bit. Swallowed a bit more, until I
had all that tart creamy goodness sliding down my throat. Then I used
Babe like a plumber’s helper to push the rest of it down my throat
hard. Thought the old man was going into orbit since Babe was so
sensitive after coming. He laughed and grabbed me by the head and
pulled me up to him. I didn’t have to ask the old man who owned Babe if
he liked what I did. He had a silly smile on his face as he
pulled me up to kiss him goodnight.
“That was sweet,
slave-boy. Your old man appreciated it. Babe said to tell you he did,
too.”
We were up early
the next morning, showered together and laughing like two kids as we
came into the kitchen for coffee. Big Jim brought out the kid in
me and my kid was only too ready to play with his kid. Except
today was going to be a work day.
"Glad to see
you’re in better spirits, Son.”
“Thank you both
for being understanding last night. I was a mess and want to apologize.” “Not necessary,
Son. Hell, I’d probably feel the same way if I’d just left
Officer Shaw.” he laughed. “He is a bit of a heart throb no matter who
looks at him.”
“I’ll second
that.” chimed in Big Jim, “Damn fine looking man;— especially,
now that he’s in love.” That morning
turned out to be a whirlwind of activity. I read and signed the
contract Master Jeb handed me. It basically gave him ownership of
my person until sold. Since I all ready had notarized health care
papers with him as final say it saved him some time and explanation.
We squared away
my bank papers and I took him to my bank to be signed on as co-signer
only. He wouldn't be able to withdraw any funds but his signature
must be present for me to withdraw. I added in case of his demise
this arrangement was null and void and returned to the original state.
He agreed. Total on account after transfer of my checking account and
money held back for personal needs my savings account ballooned to
forty eight thousand dollars and change. Master Jeb shook his head as
we left the bank. “You never cease
to amaze me, Son.”
“Why, Master?”
“You just
deposited the most money of any slave I’ve ever accepted for
training. Not only the largest amount but triple what anyone else
ever placed into savings.” He laughed and patted me on the back.
He hadn’t considered the stock options I had from work in the trunk at
the house. That was another ten thousand dollars. I
mentioned it to him and he almost turned blue. “They’re in your
trunk?”
“Yes, Sir, ten
thousand dollars worth.” “Ten thousand
dollars worth of stock options IN YOUR TRUNK?!”
“Yes, Master, is
that bad? What?”
“If the house
burns down what happens to your stock options, Son?”
“Oh, I hadn’t
thought of that.” I spoke softly and shamefully.
“Holy
macaroni, Son. Let’s get them out tonight. With that large a
deposit the bank will give you a free safety deposit box with two
keys. One for me and one for you. When you’re sold I have
no problem turning my key over to Earl D. but if it should not be
Earl, God forbid, then I’ll keep the key.”
“Gees, maybe I
should put the eight thousand in rare coins in there, too, huh, Sir?”
“Sweet Mother,
you have eight thousand worth of rare coins in that trunk, too?
he said incredulously. I smiled and sort of winced. I apologized
for my stupidity. Master Jeb just laughed and muttered
under his breath.
“The fucking kid
has ten thousand dollars worth of stock options and eight thousand in
rare coins in an old trunk in my attic. Son of a bitch! You were
right, God, to send him to us. He needs a good Master to hold his
hand.” He laughed like Hell and put his big arm around me and hugged me
tight. “Wait’ll Jim hears about this. I better make sure he’s sitting
down.” He laughed again. We were through by noon and headed back
to Mt. Washington. We were in his old truck.
“One more thing
taken care of, Little Beaver. You excited about entering
training?”
“I would be if I
knew more about what to expect.” I said sort of wistfully.
“Did you know
what to expect when they sent you to Nam, Son?”
“God no, I never
would have gone.” I surprised myself with that answer. It was the
truth.
“Hopefully,
training will be a bit more pleasant than your experience in Nam.” he
laughed.
"I didn’t mean
to compare them, Sir. For one thing I don’t think two people I
love who love me are going to do anything to harm me.” I said with some
enthusiasm.
“Exactly,
Son. I’ll stop using the term ‘trust.’ Let’s try ‘faith.’ Have
faith in Big Jim and me.”
We picked up ‘In
and Out’ burgers for us on the way home and Big Jim was waiting for us.
We ate lunch and rested for about an hour. I took a quick nap in the
giant’s arms and he woke me. “Time to start
training. This part of your time belongs to me.” He removed my plug and
told me to put on a strap, gym shorts and loose fitting top we were
going to the gym. I climbed on the back of his Harley and we were
off. He wore only his big ‘Farmer John’ overalls with no shirt
underneath and his big boots.
He looked hot. I
was interested to see what looks we got at the gym. He took me to
a small gym on Hyperion in the Silverlake district. It was early
afternoon and there were only a hand full of people there. Obviously
Big Jim made previous arrangements with the owner/manager for me to
come with him to the gym. He knew my name and asked me to sign a card
and insurance release. I did and he handed us two towels.
“We won’t be
showering here.” Big Jim spoke to me softly. “Some of these queens get
rabid when they’re in heat. You and I ain’t here to tease the
girls. We’re here to work out. We’ll shower in the big
shower in the dungeon when we get home. Always take the towel. You may
need it to wipe your hands or head. They’re good for placing on a bench
if you don’t know how clean it is.”
I’d worked out
before but never kept it up. It became boring after awhile and
unless you had a regular partner to work out with it was dull
city. I had a feeling this was going to be anything but a dull
work out. I used to have this little ‘running buddy’ I’d go to
the leather bars with. He was a little bottom and had a mind up in
lights. His name was Mike Miller. I’ll never forget him. He
was wonderful to go to the bars with. He’d keep me laughing all
night. He said some of the most outrageous things. A well
built man would walk into the bar and Mike would take one look at him a
tell me, “He’s a bottom.” and just dismiss him. One night I confronted
him, “Mike everyone with a buffed body who walks thought the door you
immediately label as a bottom. You don’t know that.”
“Are you
kidding? You’ve got to be a masochist to go to a gym long enough
to get your body to look like that.” I had no rebuttal.
“Okay, Little
Beaver. This is our plan. Monday, Wednesdays and Fridays we
work upper body. Tuesdays and Thursdays we work the lower.
Sometime Friday we make the big push to get both in because we won’t be
coming on the weekends. It's too crowded with the flex and
chatter crowd. Takes hours to get through your routine. Once you
start your routine it should be completed at a steady pace with not too
much rest in between for best cardiovascular stimulation. Besides, your
life right now is on a schedule whether you know it or not. I
have to have you back by a certain time because Jeb and I have further
things to get done before you drop around eight tonight.”
This sounded
very much like boot camp and I told him so. He laughed his big
bear laugh and added, “Yeah, but it’ll be a Hell of a lot more fun and
you get to be fucked by the DI and the officer in charge. Did you get
that in boot camp?”
“Yes, Sir.” I
said innocently. I thought Big Jim was gonna’ bust a gut laughing. He
shook all over.
“I just had to
ask! Damn, kid, you’ll be the death of this giant yet! If that
came from anyone else I’d dismiss it in a minute. Now you got me
wondering, and I don’t even want to know the truth. It’s too damn good
as is. Wait’ll Jeb hears this one. Come on, scamp, let’s get to
work.”
Why is it people
are lazy about building projects and yard cleanup but will go to a gym
and work their tits off to be better looking? Go figure? I’ll
have to say it beats crawling under one of those big trucks and getting
dirty. After about an hour we were beginning to attract quite a bit of
attention. The queens couldn’t take their eyes off Jim and me. They
would gather to quietly discuss their guesses as to our relationship.
“Boy and Daddy?”
I heard one ask the other.
“Master/slave?”
questioned another.
“Could be a
trainer and boy kept by rich sugar daddy.” Allowed another harpy.
“Yeah,
that’s probably it. The big one’s sexy but he ain’t real pretty.”
“Gives the term
‘mud fence’ and ‘homely’ new dimensions.” They all agreed. I had
to laugh at that one, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Big Jim whose ears
started turning bright red. I almost dropped the bench press on me, and
he had to give me a two finger assist. I winked at him and
giggled. It didn’t help. The big man was justifiably
chagrined. We finished after one more set, turned in our towels and
headed for his bike. He was muttering something to himself and was not
amused by the queen’s comments. I got on the back of his Harley.
“Do you remember
the story of ‘Beauty and the Beast’?” “Yeah, what of
it?” he barked. “Well, to me,
you’re the most beautiful beast in the world. If I ever woke next to
you and found you changed into one of them, I would slit my throat.”
The big man bellowed with laughter. “Damn, Little
Beaver, you could make a midget feel like a giant. You just made
this old giant feel like a God. You’re really gonna’ get yourself
fucked long, hard, and deep tonight for that sentiment. Think
those ‘queens’ in there can look forward to that?” “All I can say
is, I’ll take your beast over them any night in the week,
Master.” I yelled up to him as we took off. “Master Jim?”
“Yes, Son?”
“Could we stop
by a department store on the way back. I want to get a pair of
‘Tuff Nuts.’”
“What?”
“A couple pair
of Farmer John’s like ‘my Daaaadies’!” I mocked.
“Really?” “Yes, Sir.
They’re loose fitting and look more comfortable than these damn
shorts. Besides, we can really crank those girl’s chatter
boxes. They won’t know what to think if we’re dressed alike.”
“Have you ever
been told you have a delightfully wicked streak in you.”
“No, Sir, but
I’ve suspected it for a long time.” He laughed again as he pulled up in
front of the Value Center on Sunset and Hyperion.
“This looks like
a surplus store.” I said.
“Yeah, it is,
but they got ‘em. Come on!” Big Jim was carrying my money, and I
knew I had enough for a couple pair, maybe even three. They did,
indeed, have my favorite brand ‘Tuff Nuts.’ “Take a tip from
me,” said Big Jim, “buy ‘em a size larger than you wear, and you’ll
have all the room you and I may need.”
“Why would you
need,...? Oh, I see,....” As he took my hand and urged me
to run it down inside the front of his overalls. He had no
underwear on, and I could play with Babe and his two bull balls hanging
free.
“‘Course we’ll
cut the pockets out of yours since you don’t need to carry anything
anyway. I can hold you in front of me, and it’ll look like I have my
hands in your pockets. Deeeep in yo’ pockets, bro.” “Dirty old
man!” I responded and he threw back his head in laughter. I
bought three pair. Two too large and one pair that was more a fit
for wearing when we weren’t going to the gym. Big Jim wore
them a lot, and I’d gotten to where I liked the looks of them. They’re
damned comfortable. Gives a man breathin’ room. Yeah!
Big Jim took them to the counter to pay. The bored looking Jewish lady
chewing gum looked over her half rim glasses at Big Jim. “These for your
son?” she asked in a nasal tone. “Yes, Ma’am,
wants to look like his dad.” She looked over her glasses and looked me
up and down. “I’d say he’s
got a couple more years growth left to be as big as his dad. He better
eat all his veg-e-ta-bles, then ask for seconds.” she said in a
droll voice. She was serious. I thought I would bust a gut
until we got outside and both let loose with laughter. Needless
to say I was an impertinent slave boy calling Big Jim, Daddy Jim all
afternoon. He didn’t mind. He was having a great time with
his love.
During that
first month of training we became more than lovers we became
brothers, buddies, mates, whatever you want to name it. We bonded
as friends and partners. A bond that can never be broken by
separation of place or time. I loved being with the big man. Despite
his size, he and I could be little boys together getting into all kinds
of secret, shared mischief. He could just glance at me and tell what I
was thinking. I could do the same with him. I could read his
facial expressions like a book. Something would happen and we would
look at each other and burst out laughing because we knew what the
other was thinking. He would finish sentences I started. I would
finish his. Communication between us took on a whole new level.
Because of his
size and intimidation factor few people really took the time to know
Big Jim. Underneath the mountain was one of the warmest, giving,
caring and thoughtful hearts. He could also be ruthlessly strong
and demanding when he knew he was right. If he gave me an order, as an
order, I never questioned his seriousness. I could've probably
suffered his punishment, but I never could've endured his
disappointment. Big hearts break easily,— remember that.
That afternoon
we had some quiet time together in his room, and I asked about a
picture on his dresser with him in cap and gown at a graduation.
I just assumed it was from high school.
“Where was this
taken, Master Jim, and what occasion?” I asked.
“My graduation
from Oxford.” he replied nonchalantly. I almost giggled thinking he was
putting me on. He wasn’t.
“What did you
study at Oxford, Master?”
“Biophysics.”
What the Hell was Biophysics? I had an MA and never heard of
Biophysics.
“Interesting.”
Was all I could say. I was stunned. He showed me his diploma. PhD
in Biophysics. Graduated with highest honors. ‘Summa Cum Laude’ I
squeaked out an MA. ‘Thank ya’ lordy!’ Son of a bitch!
All this time I
thought I was making love to a good hearted ‘Bubba.’ A country
bumpkin biker type. To find out the big man was better educated than I
rocked me on my ass. Why should it? Do we think of big people as being
smart? Not often. We tend to think of them as bumbling,
oafish, sometime good hearted, good natured creatures. I needed a
wake up call and this was it. I knelt at his feet, took his hand and
gently kissed it.
“What’s this
for, slave?” He looked at me questioningly.
“All this time
I’ve been attracted to you for the wrong reasons. I’ve made love
to your boots because of your size and potential strength that’s a
sexual turn on to me, never considering beneath all the trappings of
masculinity there was a man with a fine, well educated brain. I
won’t make that mistake again, Master. When I make love to your
boots it will be because I’m overwhelmed by your complete person.” He
mused for a moment.
“I can handle
that.” he said, “I appreciate your epiphany but the ‘turn on’ part is
still there, Son. I’ll always demand you pay homage to my boots. That
will always be a given between us.”
“I wouldn’t have
it any other way, Master.” As I went down to clean the big
fuckers one more time he laughed and petted me on the head like a good
puppy. I was his good puppy. I would be satisfied to sleep
at his big feet for the rest of my life. Had I forgotten my other
commitment? Not at all. It was just a figure of speech but a true
figure of speech.
“Let’s shift
gears here a minute, Son. Do you think every time you suck
me off or ride old Babe to the barn I’m lying there thinking
,‘Woah! This is a real turn on to have a highly decorated Vietnam
war hero riding my cock for all he’s worth’?” “I hope
not, Master. Okay, I see your point and you’re right. So you’ve
got a fucking PhD in Biophysics, whatever the Hell that is, you’re
still my big blue ox and always will be.”
“That’s much
better, slave, we can live with that.”
“However,
sometimes when you chase my blues away with Babe and I tell you he’s
medicinal, you won’t mind if I call you ‘Doc. Ox’?” Master
Jim rolled on the bed laughing. “Fuck,
Beau, you come up with the damndest shit. Jeb and I laugh half
our day away telling each other the latest Beaverisms.”
“Like
Spoonerisms?”
“Yeah,
Spoonerisms, Wellerisms, we call ‘em Beaverisms. The drop dead
funny, sometimes innocent shit that comes out of your mouth. This
training thing is starting to be so much fun for us we joked about
paying you. Just joked, you understand.” then he laughed again.
Later that
evening Master Jeb took me down to the dungeon. In the slave
cells there was what might be called a common area. There was a
couple of small writing desks with banker’s lights that shed plenty of
light for writing. He pulled out a lined ledger and sat it on the
desk top.
“Each day you
will write in this ledger about your thoughts, your dreams, your past,
people you know. For each new idea you must start a new
page. You may skip several pages if you think you want to come
back to a topic you started before and add more. That way, giving
yourself room for expansion. It will become your slave journal
and will only be read by me and sometime Jim. You may write anything
about him or me in your journal you wish. Good, bad, or
indifferent, you won’t be judged by your opinions. In fact you
won’t be judged at all. This is to empty things out of your mind
that are happening, may happen or did happen in the past. It might be a
time to consider leaving Vietnam behind. You might want to think about
going into this new life and not carrying the baggage of Vietnam along
with you. I want you to understand the purpose of this. Do
you have any idea why I might require you to do this?”
“I think so,
Master, but please give me a push in the right direction.” I pleaded.
“Have you ever
received any therapy or counseling?”
“No, Sir, we
came back from Nam and that was that, Jack. No disrespect,
Master.” “I know what you
meant. None taken. No wonder you guys are so messed
up. Jim told me you suggested to Blaine and Breed to get together
and talk about your experiences in Nam. Sounds like a great
idea to me. In the meantime, I’ll explain since you’ve had
no exposure to therapy. This is a form of therapy. You can talk
to your friends or a therapist ‘til you’re blue in the face and it may
or may not influence you to change. If you write it, come back
and review it from time to time, continue to write more, I guarantee
you’ll begin to notice big changes in yourself.
You’ll set this
wind up alarm clock and write in this journal for a minimum of two
hours a day. It doesn’t have to be together. You can do an
hour in the morning before we get started or in the evening. You
may do more than two hours depending on your schedule for the day. I
would urge you to write as much in your journal as you can.
Whenever you have a free moment I want you down here writing. The
more you put into your slave training the more you’re going to get out
of it. Likewise, with this journal. If you don’t have
anything to do or one of us doesn’t require your services I want to
know I can find you down here writing. Neatness counts! If
I can’t read it then it’s of little use. From time to time, I’ll ask
you about the contents. I need it as a guide to your training.
It’s important! The more you write in this journal the more I can
help you become the slave you want to be. You do want to become a
slave, don’t you?" “Yes, of
course, Master. No disrespect, Sir, but that’s why I’m here.”
“Then you must
start thinking today why it's necessary for you to become a slave and
why you want to. Any and every reason you might think of.
Write it down. However, there is only one real answer to that
question and you must find it. It won't be given to you. You must
find it for yourself. It then must be written in your journal for
me to read. Then, and only then, will you be allowed to proceed,
become a slave and progress to the next level. Now, I have to get out
announcements to all family members and eligible Masters we will have a
new slave on the market in approximately three months. Notice I
said approximately. We’ll leave that up to you. Now, the way
it’s suppose to work” he said with a chuckle, “those interested
in bidding on you may put up a two hundred dollar non-refundable
deposit and be allowed one weekend with you from Friday evening at six
to Sunday evening at nine. You will be expected to conduct yourself as
their temporary slave.
It’s purpose,
originally, was to give prospective Master’s exposure to a slave they
might be interested in purchasing. As it stands right now I have six
firm two hundred dollar cash on hand deposits to bid on you.
There are only two more,— possibly three available. You may be
surprised to know that one of them is the fine young Master you
referred to me, Master Redfeather. I foresee no problem with him being
accepted into our family as a fledgling Master. He will develop
quickly into a stable, good Master, I have no doubt. You did right to
suggest to your Master he refer him to me. There will be an equal
number who put up a one hundred dollar deposit to bid and they may
spend an evening with you but can’t have sex. Why? Because
it’s my rule.”
All these people
putting up that kind of money for me? For one weekend? It
was overwhelming to me I made that kind of impact on these people that
quickly. Then I considered they loved and respected Master Earl
D. Shaw and were doing it for him as well.
“Another area of
your training will be one on one counseling. There’s one cell with two
over stuffed chairs that has a black curtain between them. We’ll talk
for a couple hours each day. You'll do most of the talking about
yourself and why you need or want to become a slave. The curtain will
be between us because I don’t want you to see my facial
expressions. People as bright as you sometimes read people’s
faces to tell if they’re saying the right thing to get the correct
response. I’ll direct where the talk is going. If I lead
you down another path, then I expect you to go with it. In thirty days,
if all goes well, there will be a ceremony in the auditorium and anyone
in the family who receives my announcement may attend. All
Masters will be invited to participate in the ceremony. Slaves
may attend and observe but can’t take part and must remain quiet except
where their Master’s applaud or cheer.
It will be a
ceremony where your past life will be taken from you and you will be
reborn to a new life as a slave. From there on you will be a
slave, having given up the rights of a free man. You will belong
to me, as specified in the contract, as my property to do with as I
please. Your weekend visitations will began at that time.” He
smiled knowingly.
“Now last, but
not least, for the next four weekends you will have extended
periods of inner contemplation. You will prepare yourself buy cleaning
out first then submitting to a higher colonic cleaning from Jim or
I. Probably Jim, he’s taking over some things for me I can’t
handle anymore. That’s why you’re the last, Son. You’ll be placed in
total bondage from six Friday evening to six Sunday evening. There will
be someone sitting with you the whole time; although, you won’t be
aware. You’ll be subjected to a variety of stimulus of our
choosing. It will break up your monotony. When you are not being
stimulated, you are to think of becoming a slave. Why you want to
become a slave and why it’s necessary for you.
You will have a
full leather hood on that’s padded in the ears so all outside sound
will be suppressed. You won’t be able to hear what’s going on around
you but you’ll hear things from time to time and we’ll be able to
communicate with you. There are small speakers sewn into the hood at
the ears and a small connection wire comes out the base of the neck in
the back so we can hook you up to a small amplifier. We can speak
to you through the speakers and you’ll hear various sounds and music
from time to time.
You’ll be fed a
liquid diet approximately every six hours. I say,
approximately, because it may vary one to two hours either
way. That way you can’t tell time or how long you’ve been in
suspension. Your mouth will be plugged and the hood has a heavy
snap-on mask that will block out all light. You will essentially be cut
off from all distractions and be forced to go inward and meet
yourself. Somehow, I have the strangest feeling you won’t be
alone in there” He smiled his knowing smile.
Obviously,
Master Earl had told him about Wes entering me that one evening and
Master Earl’s growing conviction it was Wes inside me the night of our
first date. I knew I was convinced. Did I want Wes to visit during
these sessions or did I want to look at myself alone? I would
figure that out as I went along. I felt I could summon him any
time I needed him. He would be there for me as I was for him.
“This is another
form of control, direction, or manipulation. It is also a lesson in
trust. You will be conditioned to trust those you’ve allowed to
place you in this position.” continued Master Jeb, “If you have any
questions about the techniques I will be using or why, I'll
gladly discuss them with you. They work whether you know about
them or not. I have no secrets about how and what I will do to
you and for you. If you’re interested, I’ll provide you with literature
to further explain this form of conversion therapy. Nothing I do will
harm you but it will redirect your life to become a total slave to
another man. Once completed, you will never again be happy with
any other form of relationship. This is not play, Son. This is for
real. I want you to stop and consider for a moment or as long as your
need. These are proven mind altering techniques we will be using and in
essence, your brain will be reprogrammed.” Master Jeb was silent for a
while waiting for me to respond.
I didn’t really
realize the training would actually contain mind alterations but I knew
how strongly they could work. I got to thinking about the last five
weeks and would I have done anything different? Not really. I
feel like I’ve been a slave all my life to people and causes that
brought me nothing but a sense of emptiness and despair.
Making the total leap of faith and becoming something to someone
that might possibly bring me even a modicum of happiness would be
better than the pain of the past. Was this why Master Earl wanted
me to take slave training? He knew it entailed much more than just
summer camp. My Master knew what it meant to him when he went
through slave training to learn to become a Master. There were
minor differences in his program than what I would be going through.
After all, it
was not Master Jeb’s intention to make an unhappy slave of a good
potential Master. His approach to Earl was indeed one of
introspection but into why he needed to own and care for another human
being. After Jeb found Earl’s need and his understanding to be
devoted to his need he encouraged and shaped Earl to become one of the
finest Master’s in the family. I thought about Yoshie and what he’d
said about training and wanting to go through it again. What was so
wonderful or so bad about having your brain altered? It happens
to us every day. Television, radio, newspapers, billboards and movies
are all telling our brains some new thing to accept. All I knew, at
that moment in time, was, I wanted to trust and have faith in these two
men. I did have faith in them and by God I would put my trust in
them.
“Master Jeb,—
I’ve thought about it a lot. I’ll submit to this training willingly,
but I want you to understand something. All my life I’ve been a
slave to some persons or cause that has only brought me heartache and
pain. I’m not faulting anyone as to why this occurred in my younger
life. It just happened! I accepted it then. I allowed myself
unwittingly to become conditioned to thinking of myself as a slave, and
as I accepted it then, I accept it now. To put it more simply, I all
ready am a slave, my good Master. I’ve never had a choice in the
matter for many years now. I’ve lived this persona so long it
would take a team of therapist working ‘round the clock for several
years to bend my mind otherwise. You can’t make me into something I all
ready am. How do you make a slave out of a slave? The idea, itself,
becomes an oxymoron.
As I see it, you
will simply be redirecting me down a path, hopefully the right path, to
find some modicum of happiness for myself. I’m all ready
there. I have no other choice. If, by redirecting,
strengthening, and educating me with your methods will bring me a small
amount of happiness, the sooner we get started the better.”
The fine
looking, older man sat there silent for a long while. He made no
effort to look at me. It was as if he were processing the words I just
spoke to him, and was trying to think of the best response. I
became concerned, perhaps I was too bold and spoke out of line,
undermining his reslove. He picked lint off his pants, breathed
deeply but continued to sit there. Finally, he looked at me with
tears in his eyes and spoke.
“As ‘off the
wall’ funny as you can be sometime, Beau, you also have a
fundamental profundity that is at once reasoned and sound as it is
remarkably perceptive. You’ve just blown my whole exercise in why you
must become a slave. You just told me the correct answer. It’s taken
others weeks or months to come up with that simple answer; they have to
become a slave because-they-know-they-are-one! It’s elusive in
it’s simplicity. You just blew the Hell out of that exercise!” he
chuckled fighting back tears. "However, I insist we proceed in the
manner I’ve described and I promise you, you will benefit from
it. You no longer have any fears, do you?”
“No, Master, I
feel as if a huge stone has been lifted from my chest. Just then,
when I said the word ‘Master,’ in respect for you, it took on a whole
new, wonderfully, different meaning.” I fell to my knees in front of
him and kissed each of his boots with great love and deepest honor to
be kneeling in front of this great and noble man. He truly had
become ‘my Master’! “Master,” I
whispered, “I’m yours. Take me, mold me, teach me thy ways.”
I reached down
to my leash that lay across his big boot, took it in my mouth, raised
up without meeting his gaze and held it ready for him to accept.
He held out his big, gracious hand under my mouth, and I let it drop.
He immediately and forcefully clamped his tightened fist around it and
said quietly but with the strength of a bull,
“You,...are,....mine,...
slave! It’s time to give yourself totally to someone who will set
you on the path toward your future of serving another man with a loving
and good heart. I make my pledge to you, beautiful and worthy
slave, together we will make the journey to find your bliss.” he
paused for a moment, “You're my last pilgrim,— my last
sojourner,— my last life to breathe freedom into.” He pulled me to him,
hugged me tightly, and kissed me on the neck. He held me for a
few minutes then spoke, “There is no doubt in my mind, God arranged for
you to be my last. He has, indeed, saved the best for last.
I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you, but I ain’t gonna’
question the Big Kahuna. I’m just gonna’ hope he has one of those
God awful,— ‘scuse me, Sir,— Hawaiian shirts in my size.” we both
laughed through our tears.
Master Jeb had
nothing more for me so I sat down at the desk and began to write until
he called me to dinner. I found myself pouring my heart into my
journal. I would write and cry, write and cry, then stop because
I was getting the pages wet. I would count over twenty pages and
begin a new topic. Write and cry, write and cry,— on and
on. I slowly began to see the method in his madness. ( Figure of
speech.) Master Jeb was far from mad. He had both oars in
the water and was the tillerman of his own boat.
As the days went
by my respect and love for the man leap frogged over itself in
intensity. My awe, faith and trust in him increased
logarithmically by the day. I was falling deeply in love with the
man just as Oscar and Billy predicted. I also knew Oscar’s statement
about leaving him was one of the hardest things he ever had to do would
become my plight as well. The further we went the more I wanted to
serve this man forever. It’s a natural occurrence to fall in love with
your therapist. I knew that in my reasoning brain but still couldn’t
convince my romantic brain. I even talked to Big Jim about it and he
laughed an understanding laugh. He leaned back to stretch and
yawn.
“Sweetheart,—
every slave who has come though here has said those exact words to
me. Would it help to tell you, it’s all right? Listen to
me,— it’s all right, Beau.” he smiled and said softly with
meaning.
“Would it help
to tell you, it’s normal?! Watch my lips,— it’s normal,
Beau.” he spoke again with care. “Would it help to tell you
he’s a wonderful, old man whom you should love deeply? You all ready
know the answer to that one.”
It did help. As
I said earlier the big man could take what seemed to me an
insurmountable problem and reduce it to a size I could deal with.
Now,— that’s a talent. I didn’t feel so much like a school boy
with a crush on his gym coach.
Master Jim said
something earlier in the day about ‘dropping’ around eight o’clock, and
I thought he was kidding. I was going to sleep at my writing desk
as Master Jeb called me to help with dinner. I tried to listen
intelligently to their conversation, but found them becoming a
comfortable background drone for my nodding head. I would snap
too if asked a question then slowly drift back into the land of
nod. They left me alone and continued to talk. I felt a giant paw
pull me over to a warm fuzzy rock I could rest my head on.
Funny,— the rock could talk. I couldn’t make out the words, but
they sounded familiar, pleasant, furry, and comfortable.
Translated from the original rock I thought I heard the following; “Our tiger’s had
a full day.” said the Big Rock.
“Indeed, he
has.” said a soft wise voice.
“Do you love him
as much as I do?” asked the Big Rock. “More.” said the
wise voice softly. Suddenly I felt the Earth move and the Big
Rock sprouted arms and legs. It lifted me up and sailed through
the sky with me, away from everything. It laid me gently on the
softest bed of yellow California poppies. It removed my clothing,
covered me, and then the Big Rock did the strangest thing. It kissed me
on the forehead and whispered to me.
“Good night, my
precious slave-boy, and,— he don’t love you a whit more than your ox.”
Part II ~ The
Acolyte
“Silence and
memories, hopes and dreams are as liquid as the days, my Master bought
me and brought me into his home to be his slave. He didn’t seem
to want my love, I worked and tried to served him well, but every night,
without his love, I cried myself to sleep, I lived
in Hell.” Canto 8~Slave’s
Song~W. D. Dux~ Posthumous
We gathered the
stock options and rare coins early the next morning. Master Jeb told
Big Jim of the trunk full of stock options in the attic and they both
went into orbit scolding me, then broke up laughing. “Well,— that's
the way he is. I knew it from the beginning. Money is only
important to him for creature comforts. He’ll never have much in
the way of possessions because he’s like you, Jim, they just aren’t
important to him. He could care less. Those damn overalls he
bought are more important to him than a new sports car might be to some
other man.” evaluated Master Jeb. He was right and I nodded in
agreement. Big Jim pulled
me to him and ran his hands in my pockets. He all really cut the
bottoms out of the pockets, the old pervert. I thought it was
enormously funny he would actually do it. I leaned against him as he
played with old swinger, got it roaring hard, grabbed hold of it, and
made it stick straight out so my overalls looked like a circus tent. “Look at this,
Jeb.” Big Jim motioned with his head for Master Jeb to look. “Playing a
little pocket pool, are you, boys?” He laughed. Jeb didn’t
look good this morning.
“Jim, can you
and Beaver work out early today then take him by the bank with those
options. He can get the box. He’s a big boy. They
offered him a box with the deposit and he turned them down.
They’ll give it to him. Just make sure it has three keys. Theirs,
yours and mine. I need to go see my doctor this morning. It’s
nothing serious. I need to have him adjust one of my
medications. I’ll be fine. Not to worry.”
The days began
to pass quickly. Big Jim kept me regular as clock-work going to the
gym. The girls at the gym were all a twitter the first day Big Jim and
I walked in dressed the same. By the fourth day I asked Master Jim.
“Was it my
imagination or was the gym a lot more active today,— with a lot more
bodies?” “Wasn’t your
imagination, Son. Word gets around. People are curious.
Most of these queens have seen me come in here day in, day out for
years, and never paid me much attention. I never speak to any of
them. I ignore them so they don’t bother. Things are different
now. I have a gorgeous young man on my arm whom I obviously love
very much, have control of, and who loves me. They can sniff it like a
pack of hounds after a wounded fox. Once they get the scent, watch
out.” He laughed.
The best part of
getting home was heading to the dungeon to the big steam room shower
Master Jeb and Jim built. It was enormous and cleverly made. They
gathered old shower doors from any source. All along three walls
they mounted them above glass block in slotted aluminum extrusions. It
was framed and the glass block extended to the ceiling. It was highly
caulked and sealed so not even steam leaked into the main area of the
dungeon. There were plastic benches along the shower door walls.
You could turn on the hot water only on one shower jet and it would
produce so much steam you couldn’t see each other three feet away.
Their hundred
gallon water heater was turned up to the ‘Hell’ setting. There
were warning signs in all baths and showers not to turn on the hot
water without the cold as well. At the far end, away from the
entrance, was a hot rocks gas heater. It would heat a pile of
rocks you could pour water over and produce lots of steam. It was
relaxing. Most of the time we just showered and got out due to
the schedule we were keeping. There was another two jet shower in
the slave quarters I used most of the time. It had a clean out hose
attached to the shower. Handy gadget!
Once in a while
Big Jim would let me rub him down in the steam. He must have
designed the plastic benches because it was one of the few things,
other than his specially made bed, that he could lay the length of his
body on comfortably. J’ever try to rub down a giant man? Take it
from me there’s a Hell of a lot to rub. It was worth it when he’d
roll over, grab me and pull me on top of him for a few minutes of love
making. Making love on a bear rug. He actually had so much
hair on his belly I could part it down the middle, lay Babe in the
part, then comb the hair back over so you couldn’t tell he had a
dick. You couldn’t see it. It was one mass of reddish brown
hair. My very own Sasquatch.
Friday night
came and around three o’clock in the afternoon, Master Jim told me to
go to my shower in the dungeon and clean myself thoroughly. He would be
down in about half hour. Each shower had exhaust fans vented to
the outside. I was about through when I heard Master Jim
lumbering down the stairs. “Take your time.
I’m just getting some stuff together.” I got out of the shower and
found him moving things into the larger shower. He placed
his equipment on one of the plastic benches. “Help me move that table
into the shower, Son.” I grabbed one end and he the other. It was
lighter than it looked. It was made of plastic as well. It had a
rubber padded top and looked like it bent in the middle. One end
had a ‘U’ shaped area I assumed for easy access to one’s ass.
“I’m about ready
for you, slave. Hop up here on the table and I’ll be back in a
minute.” I did as I was told and lay there with my legs dangling over
the edge. He returned with two‘L’ shaped plastic tubes and fitted
them into the ones at the end. He took each of my legs and they fit
perfectly into the cradles that were on top of the ‘L’s’. There
were straps that fit across and buckled at the ankle, below the knee
and around the thigh. He pulled one over my stomach and one
around my chest and cinched them up pretty snug. “Do you want to
sit up and watch or would you rather lay back. I recommend about
half way up to drain better.”
Without waiting
for a reply he moved to my head and lifted me about half way up and
placed a brace in the back for a stop. I felt like an astronaut
ready for blast off. Master Jim excused himself and was gone
about twenty minutes. When he returned all he had on was a huge
pair of heavy duty, black rubber hip boots and an almost ankle length
heavy duty black rubber apron. It had a strap around the neck and
one that tied in the back. He looked hot. Like something
out of a ‘Les’ S & M drawing. I could see his ass framed by
the rubber apron when he turned to walk away and decided I was glad to
be sitting up; so, was old swinger. He saw old swinger standing
at attention.
“Something turn
you on, Son.” He smiled wickedly.
“Oh no,
Sir.” I lied. “I usually get an erection about this same
time every day.” He laughed knowingly.
“Well,— your
Master’s gonna’ fix you up here. This will be easy and simple if you
listen and do as I tell you.” He all ready hooked up the
plumbing, and I could see a large red rubber colonic tube at the end of
a larger hose. It was approximately three feet in length. “You’re gonna’
put all that in me?”
“I’ll explain it
to you. We start by cleaning the lower colon. Stuff you
couldn’t get out. Then, this will easily slip into you upper
colon. This is how much has to go in .” He held his thumb at a
black stripe across the end of the tube about three inches from the
base. Shit! It may as well been the whole thing. He
adjusted the water temperature and let it run while he pulled on a pair
of heavy duty, black rubber gloves and lubricated my hole with
vaseline. He grabbed the colonic tube and started inserting it into my
ass. He explained as he went. “Try to hold as much as you can and when
you think you can’t hold it any more let me know. Now, if I tell
you to hold it a bit longer do it until I tell you to release. Got
that?”
“Yes, Master.” I
was trying to hold as much as I could and started cramping. “That’s it!” I
told him.
“Hold it!
Hold it!” He admonished me.
“Please, Master!”
“Hold it!” he
shouted gruffly. I tried hard. Somehow, I managed to hold it. “Master Jim, I
can’t hold it any longer.” “YES,— YOU CAN,—
SLAVE! NOW,— HOLD IT!!! Again, I somehow summoned the
strength to hold it. I don’t know where I found the inner reserve but I
did.
“Now,— you may
release, slave.” Water must have shot three feet across the
shower. He let me relax and drain. I wasn’t too dirty as I
cleaned out pretty good. He was satisfied and told me to
relax. He was going to insert the tube. He walked to the
bench and retrieved the largest black, butt plug I’d ever seen.
It was considerably bigger than the one I wore. He brought a tube of
lubricant and lubed my ass.
“This is a
deadening agent to put your ass muscle to sleep. He put it on and
massaged it in good with his big, black, rubber glove. Damn it
was hot. What was hotter was my ass was numb and I wanted all of
that giant glove in there. He took the plug screwed it into me a couple
of times and popped the big, son of a bitch, in. “How’s that
feel, Son?”
“Big Sir, but
not too uncomfortable.”
“There’s a hole
in the plug just the size of the colon tube through which I’ll insert
it.” He’d turned the water off and began inserting the tube. “Don’t
watch, Son, close your eyes. That’s good, it’s going in so
smoothly I’ll have it in before you even realize it. See!”
I opened my eyes
and looked. Damn he had that whole thing up me. I felt
something snaking through my gut, but it didn’t hurt. Then he
gently turn on the flow. “Now,
that’s gonna’ come rushing down and hit your asshole. Try as hard
as you can to hold it. The plug will take most of the impact. I’m
gonna’ fill you up until I can shake your belly and hear it slosh.” I
squeezed my ass tight and felt the water filling me up. It did
hit my ass with a huge force but the plug held and only leaked a bit. I
was beginning to cramp pretty badly and told him so.
“Just a little
bit more, Son. There,— that should do it. Now, relax, and just
hold it for a while.” Yeah, I heard that line before.
Relax, Hell!
He placed one of
the huge gloves on my extended belly and began to kneed it and make it
wiggle from side to side. I didn’t voice my discomfort. I
knew it wouldn’t do any good anyway. He could tell from the
anguish on my face, I was getting near panic point when he
reached down and pulled the plug. What a relief! Water and stuff
went all over the shower floor. He hosed it, and me down quickly.
“Now for the
easy part.” he assured me. (‘There was an ‘easy’ part to this?’ I
thought.) Lay back,— relax, and let your Master do the
driving.”
He again
inserted the hose, but instructed me not to hold it. I
didn’t. He was good to his word, and once again inserted the hose
all the way up in me. This time the water coming out was clean.
He was satisfied I was clean. Master Jim took a metal device I
saw Master Earl use. It was a speculum that held the ass hole
open. He opened it pretty wide to let me drain. He said
he’d be back in a minute and left me with my ass gaping open. It
did the job of draining me. It was all out in no time.
He returned in a
few minutes and ask if I felt all the water was out. I told him,
I thought so. He removed the speculum and allowed me to relax as
he continued to clean the shower. I kept watching him in his
rubber outfit as he hosed himself off, then soaped down the front
with a huge sponge to clean it then rinsed. I could see his big
furry ass from behind and wanted to run my tongue as far up there as I
could get it and pray for a cracker jack prize. Old Swinger was
standing tall and proud. Big Jim didn’t miss Swinger’s salute and
smiled to himself. He didn’t offer a comment.
“Master?” I
asked quietly.
“Yes, slave?” He
said as he turned to look at me. I looked him up and down slowly.
“Oh,
nothing.” I said resolutely. He continued what he was doing.
“You want me to
fuck you, slave?” “I would be a
most grateful slave, Master. You’re so hot in that rubber outfit.
I can’t imagine anything I’d rather have right now.” I tried to sound
as needy as possible. Maybe a little too needy. “Well,— you
can’t exactly get away. You’re all strapped down with nowhere to
go. I dare say you’d be prime for a wild animal to come along,
slam his dick in your hole and have his way with you. You couldn’t do
much about it, and you certainly wouldn’t have much choice, would you,
slave?”
“No, Sir, I
can’t get loose. I’m strapped in this clean out seat. I’d be ripe for
fucking if some wild beast were to come sniffing around me. You
wouldn’t let an animal take advantage of me would you, Master?” I
asked coyly. “In a New
York minute, slave! I’d let him in the door and point
you out to him!”
Master Jim came
to me slowly, and raised his heavy apron to lay on my belly as he
leaned in close to me.
“I’m gonna’
grease your ass a little because it’s pretty raw from the acid in your
gut.” He leaned closer and gently kissed me as he began to work a small
amount of water based lubricant into my hole. He was being so
gentle, and it felt wonderful. He was translating his passion and
teasing my hole into his kiss. He stopped and positioned his huge, hard
cock at my hole, and pressed slightly to hold it in place. I knew
I was about to be taken hard. He wiped his heavy black glove on a
towel hanging from the table. He leaned forward again to kiss me
and kissed me more passionately and deeply. While we were in the throes
of this kiss he took me hard. Harder than he ever took me.
So hard the damn table jumped a foot. I groaned deep in my throat
to feel his goodness instantly fill me. To take me as the slave I
had become, and the slave he knew I would be.
My Master didn’t
stop kissing me, and wouldn’t let me stop to thank him. I could only
manage a few deep guttural moans and groans. He kept his huge tongue
rammed as far down my throat as he could, and I used my neck muscles to
suck on it. I melted with both holes being filled at the same
time. He only had to lean just a bit, and we were face to face.
Well,— really more like his big tit to my mouth. I took advantage
of it and began to suck on those beautiful brown things. They hung out
from his apron right where the cut came from the neck. It was
hot. He fucked me good and as promised, long, hard and deep.
I knew he wasn’t
kidding about the wild animal raping me. I was really getting in
to sucking his tit, and he loved it. He put his big hairy arm
around my head and pulled me into his tit to lock me onto it as he
began to fuck me harder. He didn’t want me falling off his tit while he
was getting some of the best fucking in his slave’s ass he’d ever had.
I moaned in lust as I sucked harder and faster on his big tit. I
was so hot I was ready for him to crawl inside of me. He was making
every effort. If God could part the red sea for Moses I was
praying he could do the same for my ass so Big Jim could get more
inside me. I pulled off his tit for a second and spoke.
“Master,...”
“Not until I
do, slave. I’ve only begun to take it away from you, and
I’m gonna’ enjoy this part. Oh, Yeah! I’m gonna’ give you
what every little slave boy prays for, Son. His Master’s fuck
juice way up his little slave-pussy. I’m fucking your
slave-pussy, boy. Oh God! That’s the good stuff, right
there! That’s it! I’m getting it! Give it to your Master,
slave, take me to the barn, Son. GIVE,...IT,...TO, ...ME!
AAAuuuggg! GET IT SLAVE!! Saliva began to go everywhere as I
shot, feeling his come being pumped into my clean gut. I was sucking so
hard on his big tit something broke, gave way, and my mouth received a
small amount of man milk. He came, and came again, and I did
too. He gave me some memorable fucks but that one was
special. Damn, he fucked me good!
“Thank
you, Master! Thank you for that good fucking. You’ve
fuck me many times before, but that one had to be of landmark
proportions. Thank you, Master. Thank you for the man milk, too.” “I like a
grateful slave, but you're not through yet, Son. Use your little
ass, and suck on my dick to get the rest. There, I can feel
that! Yeah! A little harder,— uh-huh,— all right!
Once again,— yeah! Again,— oh, yeah! Feel that?
You’re getting the rest of it! Good slave! Now!
That’s your first meal for the bondage.” “Thank you,
Master. I appreciate it. It was a good fucking. It’s
a meal that would satisfy any hungry man.” He kissed me again
gently, looked me in the eye, winked and asked.
“Got Milk?”
Part III ~ The
Other Side of Tomorrow
I cannot tell
the time of day, nor draw you
maps of lands I’ve never seen. For love with me
is guessing wild, as someone
throwing darts might pierce a
universe of mysteries Where light is
lost to time, and time to
curves in space, not meant for us
to see, nor find a
meaning for it all. Canto 7~Slave’s
Song~ W. D. Dux Posthumous
Master Jim
ordered me to get dressed. He instructed me put on my leather
pants with the removable ass patch and cod piece. He ordered me
to lace up my high top boots over my pants. I was to include my
leather shirt, and gauntlet gloves. He explained, for my time in
bondage, they wanted me to feel comfortable in my own clothes. I
hurriedly dressed, tucking my leather pants down into my boots, lacing
them snug but not so tight to be uncomfortable. When I finished,
I returned from my cell to find him waiting for me. He changed,
too. He wore his beautiful leather pants with cod piece and his
high boots. The boots worn over the pants and only his vest for a
top. I fell to my knees and kissed his boots and found his hand
waiting.
“Come,
slave, show love to the Master who is about to guide you through
your inner journey of discovery.” I stood into his arms, kissed
him, laid my head against his huge chest and held him. “Afraid, Son?” “Not with you as
my helmsman, Master. I would lay my life in your
charge.”
“In a way,— you
will be.” he said quietly, “Now, hop up here on the Gurney.”
I sat on the
Gurney while he placed a hood over my head. He adjusted it carefully so
my eyes and nose fit perfectly where they were suppose to. He let
me adjust it to feel the most comfortable. There were receiving
snaps for an eye patch that would cut off any possibility of vision and
there were snaps where a mouth plug could be inserted. Master Jim
slowly, carefully, methodically, laced it tightly from the top of my
head, down the back of the neck and tied it in the rear. He placed a
wide four inch collar around my neck and locked it from behind.
He had me lay
prone on the Gurney where he had spread out a leather harness. I was
ordered to place my hands by my sides. I closed my eyes as he
began pulling the straps over and around, fastening them into
place. He checked periodically, to see if something felt too
tight, telling me he would be loosening and tightening straps
during my session. I felt like a rump roast being prepared for
cooking. He grabbed one side of the harness with his two huge
hands and in one swift jerk I was on my back. He leaned over me
and looked into my eyes.
“You okay,
Son?” he asked.
“Yes,
Master.” He leaned over and kissed me gently one last time.
He produced a mouth plug, held it for me to make the proper love to,
then plugged my mouth securing it behind my head. He held the eye
patch and with one last, concerned look, gave me a wink before he
strapped it snugly into place. Master Jeb was right. I could hear
nothing, I could see nothing and I certainly could speak no evil;— not
that I'd want, too, you understand. For all practical purposes, I
was cut off from the world.
I began to think
our worlds, as we perceive them, are predicated largely on our
senses. We live as we sense. I wondered if this was what it was
like for Helen Keller. Unlike her, I didn’t even have my hands for
tactile sensing. I wasn’t afraid; however, I was a bit
apprehensive about spending forty eight hours unable to move. I
could feel him moving me on the Gurney to another area of the
dungeon. He purposely spun me around several time to disorient
me, traveled to his destination, then began to raise the Gurney into
place.
I felt Master
Jim lubricating my ass, then felt the point of my faithful plug at my
hole. I raised my ass to receive it and he deftly, expertly
docked it in its home. It felt good, like an old friend dropped
in to help me through this ordeal. I welcomed it by sucking on it and
giving it a few good humps with my ass. I felt the Dungeon Master
hooking me up to chains but I couldn’t hear anything. It was
totally quiet inside the hood. It allowed no ambient sounds to be
heard or light to be seen.
When he finished
he lowered the Gurney. I was hanging free in the chains; they
suspended me in mid-air. It was one Hell of a weird feeling; not a bad
feeling, just strange. I could feel Master Jim adjusting straps
here and there; tightening one, loosening another until he was
satisfied I looked comfortable; or, as comfortable as possible in
bondage. I felt him connect the wire to the hood speakers and in a
moment I heard soft distant music of an mystic eastern sound. Then I
heard Big Jim voice cut in; not loud but plainly audible.
“I’m going to
place two cylinders in your hands; one in each. Don’t do anything
until I tell you to.” He placed them in my hands and told me to press
the button on the end of the right one. “Now the other.
Okay, the right one activates a green light and will be a ‘Yes’
response. The other activates a red light that’s a ‘No’
response. Light them both and your ass falls off,— a little humor
there, Beaver. Light them both and it means you’re in distress;
something’s wrong, please help me, understand?” Green light.
“You’ll do fine,
Son, I’m proud of you.” He patted me on the butt then snapped on
my rear patch over my plug. “You’re adrift,
my little brother, on your journey of exploration. Several people
will be watching over you; one, maybe two or more. You won’t know who
or how many. We can sit here and have a rousing game of poker and you
won’t hear a word. Journey inward and find yourself. Find
the slave you want to be and make peace with him. Journey to the
future and try to see yourself living and loving your Master as his
possession. Imagine redefining yourself as his total slave; serving him
and putting him above all others. Let your soul place him above the
time wasting ideas of material possessions. You can never own anything
again; yet, all creatures must have a purpose for living. Your
Master must become your purpose, your identity. You will be his
possession, his chattel, his property, and his treasure.
It must become
your new definition of yourself. Nothing else must matter;
however, don’t become overwhelmed with the seeming enormity of concepts
and ideas. Take comfort to recall and remember you aren’t
alone. You’re being guarded on your journey by those who love
you. Your family will be monitoring you; people who love you, care for
you and above all, will protect you with their last breath. Go with
your two master’s love in your heart. We’ll see you on the other
side of tomorrow.” It was exactly six o’clock. Master Jeb
descended the stairs and walked over to where Big Jim was sitting
having a much deserved beer.
“You did a fine
job, Jim. He looks good enough to eat, don’t he?”
“He’s an eyeball
full when he gets his leathers on. I fucked him before I put him
into bondage, and damn near climbed on top of him again a minute
ago. He does something to my old dick I can’t seem to control.
Hell, I don’t think I want to control it, it’s too damn good.”
Big Jim laughed as he confessed.
“Doesn’t help
when he’s on a first name basis with your dick.” Jeb said.
Both men laughed.
“He’s inventive,
I’ll give him that. What time is the desert folk due to arrive?” The
Dungeon Master asked.
“The two B’s
around nine or ten tonight and the two E’s with Bert will arrive
tomorrow morning. We’ll have a houseful until Sunday evening
late. Hell,— I had to turn folks away. They all wanted to
be here.”
“You gonna’ let
‘em stay ‘til we bring him out?”
“Your opinion,
Dungeon Master?”
“Yeah, let ‘em
stay. Let him know they went out of their way to come and care for him.”
“I agree. To be
honest, I was leaning that way myself. I think it’s time we changed
that rule. It will give him reinforcement his family cares for him more
than he knows.” “What about Earl
D.?” “I told him he
could drop by for a while tomorrow, and I invited him for brunch on
Sunday. I’m going to tell him I don’t want him spending a great
deal of time down here. Our slave trainee has extraordinary sensing
powers and is sometimes helped by your late nephew.”
“Yeah, he scares
me sometime. That card reading trick the other afternoon at the
pool party was just short of miraculous.” “I agree,”
answered Master Jeb, then added, “but the spookiest thing was, it
wasn’t a trick. I believe he saw those things. Look at his
call on Jim Redfeather becoming Sam’s new employee and becoming a
member of our family. That was dead on. Aside from all
that, he looks fine, Dungeon Master. I’ll come down and relive
you in an hour or so.” “No need, bro,
I’m strong ‘till Beryl and Blaine get here. I plan to sleep down here
on the leather futon. He’ll be fine. I’ll have enough help, get
some rest, brother. If anything out of the ordinary occurs or I need
help, I’ll buzz you immediately.” “Jim,— you and I
have never been overly sentimental with each other. We don’t have
to be. We’ve been though so much together we know how we feel about
each other; however, it recently occurred to me if I went
suddenly and never told you how much I’ve loved you all these years, I
couldn’t rest in peace.” He turned and walked slowly away. “I’ve always
loved you, Jeb, you know that.” The old man nodded and continued on to
the stairs so his old friend wouldn’t see the tears running down his
face.
* * * * * * *
I was adrift.
They left me in complete silence for a long time. There seemed to be a
low white noise in the speakers that wasn't loud enough to bother but
was just loud enough to drown out any and all ambient sound. All
of sudden, I began to hear a train whistle in the distance. At
first, I thought I was imagining it. It sounded like it was far,
far away. It got louder, and I could hear drops of rain on a tin roof
of a cabin. I suddenly found myself sitting on an old iron bed
inside the cabin looking out the window at the cold rain. The train
whistle kept getting louder until I could finally hear the sounds of
the old steam engine locomotive. It began to fade. Like it was going
away into the distance. I wanted to leave the cabin and run after it
but it was raining. Coming down pretty hard, too. I could
hear lightning and thunder. Suddenly a huge flash of lightning
lit up the room, and I could see bent wood cabin furniture. Wait
a minute. I couldn’t have seen a flash of lightning. Could
I? I was drifting and I knew in a moment I was in Wes’s secret
place.
“Hello,
sweetheart.” Wes spoke to me. I started crying. "Don’t cry,
Beau,— you scolded me the other night to stop crying or I’d miss the
fuck. Glad you did, too, what a fucking that was! The old
man’s developed some new techniques and they’re hot! You know how
lucky you are don’t you, bro?” “Hell, yes,— and
thank you, my love. Damn, you look hot! You never were a body
builder before.”
“I’m not stupid,
bro. I knew to keep his interest I had to pay a price and I did. I
never regretted it for a second. So far they let me keep this form. Oh
Beau, look!” He dropped his pants and I could see his little man-cunt.
“You wanna’ fuck me? You have to try it, Beau. Master loved it. Don’t
go gettin’ no ideas about asking him to do you this way. I did it
because you know how damn useless my dick was to me after the demon got
through with it.” Wes never referred to his birth father as
‘father’ or ‘dad’ just ‘the demon.’ The only father Wes admitted
to was Walker Johnson.
“You know I’d
fuck you anywhere, any time bro,— but, I just got fucked a little while
ago and well you know,— ”
“Yeah, I
watched. My uncle is a fucking animal, ain’t ‘ee. He ain’t real pretty
but damn,— can he throw a mean fuck or what? You’re in love with him,
too, ain’t cha,’ darlin’?”
“You know I am,
Wes. It eats me up sometimes; not because I want him, but I would
genuinely like to see him have his own slave to care for him.”
“You’ll be
enough, on the side, for him. You’ll get plenty of loving from him as
well as our Master. I know him and his big heart. He’ll never
stop loving you long enough to love another slave.”
“Can I summon
you later in this journey for that fuck, sweetheart?”
“Sure,— time
means nothing to me anyway. All you have to do is come into this
room, think about me and I’ll be right here. If I’m busy it may
take a minute but don’t give up on me. I’ll be here.
Besides, you know me, bro, I’d never pass up one of your
fucks. Master Earl was great, but he never fucked me with the love and
passion you did, Beau. Master loved me but showing it through
fucking was not his forte. I’ll leave you alone, hon, enjoy your
journey. Relax and let it wash over you. Try to becomes a part of the
experience. You might not think so now, but you’re always
gonna’ wanna’ come back here, wait and see. Oh, by the way, how’d you
like the Chief?”
“He’s fucking
gorgeous! Well you know. Were you around the night— ?”
“— the night he
threw those two mean, wild Indian fucks into your ass? Yeah, I
thought he might let me enter him, but he was frightened. He
won’t be the next time. I always wondered what it would feel like to
have the equipment to fuck you, Beau. He’ll let me, next time, I just
know. Would you mind?” “Hell no! I
can’t think of anything hotter, darlin.’ To have two men fuck me at the
same time? Woah! You knew he patched me up in Nam?”
“Yeah, we know
all that stuff over here. I made sure you two got together. He needs
you, and you need him. He’s gonna’ be a great comfort to you through
this period and later. Lean on him, he’ll never tell you wrong.
Gotta’ run, now, dearheart. Call me, and I’ll come to you.”
“Wait, Wes,— the
demon,— is he...?” A stoic smile crossed his face, he slowly shook his
head, and he was gone. I left Wes’s secret room and was back in
my own body again. I was warm, comfortable and controlled.
I could do this, no sweat. I relaxed and listened to the mystic
Indian music I could barely hear in the head phones. That music finally
faded and the nascent sounds of some other soft music began in the head
phones. It was a floating, ethereal tinkling kind of music with
no particular melody. Chimes, a drum, a tam-tam, cymbals touched
softly, and bells, lots of bells.
I felt someone
unbuckling the straps around my legs and hips. My legs were
spread apart and move forward under my stomach and chained to my sides
so my ass was in a prime position for easy penetration. I felt a
large hand surround my plug and pop it out. A towel blotted my
ass gently. I remained in the position for a short period of
time. I felt the large head of something at my hole and felt a large,
well greased dildo head working into my ass. I managed to raise
my ass to receive it and felt a gentle hand touch my back to tell me to
relax. I did and just went with the person inserting it. They
were gentle but forceful and I knew they weren't going to stop until it
was all the way inside me. Finally, I couldn’t feel it going in
anymore but felt a belt being strapped under the dildo and it was
cinched up tight. My hole was filled. It felt like someone
strapped me underneath a stallion, getting ready to ride him and me, in
tandem, around the ranch to receive his seed.
They left it in
me for a long time and my whole body began to accept it as a protection
around a sacred icon that had been secretly placed in my body for safe
keeping. When it was removed I felt empty. There was hollow feeling in
my gut. I felt my plug, my friend, being replace. It felt
comfortable. I heard the voice of Big Jim gently come over the ear
phones.
“Your mouth plug
is going to be removed. I’ll place a plastic tube in your mouth to feed
you some warm broth. Take it slowly, and I’ll hold the tube while you
swallow. Take your time and take as much as you feel like then
press the left button when you’ve had enough. If you need more
press the right button, understand?” Green light.
I felt him undo
my mouth plug and slip the tube into my mouth. I sucked and
wonderful, warm flavors filled my senses as the soup flooded into my
mouth. Best damn soup broth I’d ever tasted. It had to be
homemade. Wasn’t from a can, I can tell you that. I must
have sucked up a cup. I wanted more, it was so damn good. It was
replaced with another and I finished that. I was feeling kind of
warm and fuzzy and thought I probably didn’t need a lot. I signaled to
stop. My mouth plug was returned and I hung in silence for a long
period of time. My legs were stretched out, and, believe it or
not, I drifted off to sleep.
Part IV ~ Signs
and Sea Serpents
All who watched
at the midnight hour, from hall or
terrace, or lofty tower, cried as they traced
the meteor bright, moving along
through the dreary night.
"This is the
hour, when forth he goes, the Dong with
the luminous nose. yonder,— over
the plains he goes; despite his woes
still on he goes, The Dong with
the luminous nose!" Edward Lear ~
Master Jeb met
Big Beryl and Blaine at the door. They brought two enormous pizzas with
them. Neat trick on the back of two Harley’s. However, they managed,
and everything seemed in order.
“How’s our boy?”
asked Big Beryl.
“He’s doing
fine. Jim’s doing a great job as Dungeon Master and had him
adrift at six sharp. It’s about time for his late evening
fuck’n. We thought we’d give you the honor if you think you’re up
to it, old man.” Jeb punched Beryl in the side.
“What? Are you
kidding? You know what that kid does to me. My old dick’s
drooling just thinking about fuck’n his little butt; however,
right now, me and old dick’s hungry. Let’s have some pizza and bewskis
before I plough his lower forty. Blaine, honey, go down and
relieve Jim so’s he can come up here and have some 'za and ski.'
We’ll save you some, Son.”
“Sure, Dad, be
glad, too.” Blaine was away and down the stairs to the dungeon.
Quietly, he went through the ritual greeting with the Dungeon
Master and spoke in quiet tones.
“You taking good
care of my little brother, Master Jim?”
“Sure as Hell
trying to, Son.”
“Looks good to
me! He’s not gonna’ have a bit of problem with this. I wish dad would
put me in bondage more’n he does. It always makes me feel better
about everything for weeks after. Dad’s a damn good Dungeon
Master. Well, you know, you’ve helped him with me in bondage
before. Don’t think I don’t remember some of the good shit the two of
you arranged for me. Especially, that ass beating you gave me
that one time and the gentle ass fucking you gave me after that.
Woah! Still makes my ole pussy drip. Forgive me, Master
Jim,— I got carried away and almost forgot. I’m here to relieve
you so’s you can go upstairs and have some pizza and brew with dad and
Master Jeb. Go on, I’ll watch him and call at the first sign of
distress.” Big Jim pulled Blaine to him and kissed him gently.
“Don’t think for
a minute I’ve ever forgotten fucking you either. That was one
sweet fuck you gave me that night, slave. You did your old man
proud. Feel!” He took Blaine’s hand and placed it on his cod
piece. Blaine gently felt a rock hard cock beneath the leather.
“Well, if you
need any later tonight, Master Jim,— front door or rear, — I’ll give
you my best.” “I’ll talk to
your dad, Son.” “You may if you
wish, but he told me before we left, if you needed me not to bother
asking, just let you have it.” “Thanks,
sweetheart, you just may get a little of the giant this evening.
You’re old man’s gonna’ get to give our boy here his evening fuck.
Wonder if the kid will know?” “Master Jim,
that’s Beau you’re talking about.” “Yeah, you’re
right, he’ll know.”
Big Jim gave a
high five to Blaine and was off up the stairs to find Big Beryl and Jeb
at the kitchen table waiting for him. He gave Beryl a big hug. “Dad?” Big Jim
said to Big Beryl as he reached for a big slice of pizza. “Yes, Son?”
Beryl answered. “While you give
our boy down there a good, long, slow, deep dong’n would it be all
right if I tore me off a piece of boy-pussy?” “I told that
little shit to give you anything you needed tonight.” Beryl said
strongly.
“He did, Dad, he
did! I just wanted to be polite and ask. I’ve never had a lot of
sex with Blaine because,— well, you know the way I am. But,
tonight,— this Dungeon Master thing’s got my juices flowing. I’m gonna’
need some relief to lay there and watch you fuck our boy. I
couldn’t imagine anything sweeter than Blaine’s pussy.” “Sure, Son, take
all you need. He’s been itching to have you again ever since you
hit him in the ass out to our place last time. Matter of fact, he
can’t wait to try the four way thing again. Hasn’t talked about
anything else since that night. You gotta’ admit that was pretty damn
hot.”
Big Jim smiled
to himself as Big Beryl explained the details to Jeb. Jeb was
laughing so hard he almost choked on his pizza. Big Jim and Beryl
finished and excused themselves to go to the dungeon. Jeb gave
them instructions to send the hungry slave up and he would sit with him
while he ate. In a few minutes Blaine came up the stairs, across the
kitchen, knelt in front of Jeb and kissed each of his boots.
Master Jeb held his hand down for Blaine. The good looking slave
kissed it and held it to his forehead.
“Forgive me,
Master Jeb, for forgetting my manners a while ago. You know I love you
and wouldn’t do anything to slight you.”
“If I remember
correctly, good slave, your Master was barking orders to you,
hustled your ass off to the dungeon to relieve the Dungeon Master and
didn’t give you a chance to remember your manners. You’re a fine slave
and you know you should always follow your Master’s orders without
hesitation. Another Master will understand your situation. And,
you know I love you, too, Son. Get your ass up here and show me
some love.” Blaine practically crawled into Master Jeb’s big arms
and kissed him. “Hungry, Son?”
Master Jeb asked Blaine
“Yes, Sir.” Jeb handed him a
paper plate and told him to help himself as he went to the fridge to
get Blaine a beer.
“Thank you, Sir.”
“You’re welcome,
Son. You never went through a formal slave training program did you,
Son?”
“No, Sir.
I can see the way the other slaves you’ve trained adjust to slave life.
It would've been a Hell of a lot easier for me if I’d gone through your
training. Maybe, if I had, I’d still have my dick today. Dad
never said anything, and I didn’t even know about it until I met you
years ago. I guess dad thought it was too late. Besides, he cured
me of chasing cunt by that time. The rest was just acceptance, I guess.
Except, I know in my heart, I accepted that old man as my Master the
first night he took me all those years ago.
I’d never had a
man’s dick up my butt before and I was scared to death he was gonna’
split me in two or wreck my insides. I never figured how damn good his
old dick would feel once he got it up inside me. All I knew,
after that first night he fucked me was, I had to have as much of that
old man’s cock in me as I could get! I remembered Beau fucking
Wes in that cave in Nam, and I wanted to experience that kind of
intensity in my life. I got it! Boy, did I get it!
Sometimes a
little too intense; especially, when I found myself tied to that
operating table in Tijuana. Fuck, Master Jeb! It was my own damn fault!
That old man never lied to me. I signed his unconditional
contract. Had the damn thing read to me and gone over with me,
line by line, paragraph by paragraph, by Booger Red, Walker Johnson and
the cowboy. They painted graphic pictures of what could possibly
happen to me if I signed his unconditional contract. They
explained to me I would become his personal property, just like his
bike. He could take me into a body shop and have me chopped just
like he could his hog! There was no difference! By signing his contract
I gave the man my permission to do what he wanted with me or to me.
I didn’t give a
shit, I wanted to be his slave that bad. No one in my fucked up
life ever gave a shit enough to demand something like that from me.
Here was this old man who not only cared enough but demanded a
commitment from me. He wasn’t gonna’ take no for an answer. I didn’t
want him to have to! I couldn’t sign my name to that fuck’n piece
of paper fast enough and never looked back.
He told me
exactly what he was gonna’ do if I didn’t stop chasing them damn cunts.
I couldn’t understand what he was gettin’ so damn upset about. I wasn’t
going with no other men. He knew that! Hell, you can’t keep
something like that secret among a group of scoot bums. Fuck!
They gossip worse than a bunch of old women. He would’ve found
out! He would’ve known! Besides, my old man was give’n me
all the dick I could handle. He was keep’n my tank filled, but
good! I never said no to him when he wanted a piece of my ass. I
even got to where I loved to suck his big dick, get him off, and I
never said no to him for that either. To be honest, I thought I
had the best of both worlds for a while. I was wrong. The
best world was serving my Master, but I was just too damn stupid to
realize it at the time.
He put up with
me whore’n around with them stupid bitches for damn near two
years. He warned me over and over again. He had old Red
talk to me. Red warned me. Told me not to test the old man,
he knew him too damn well. He would take and take and then he
would do what he said he was gonna’ do. If I wanted to keep my
cock and balls, I damn well better listen to him! Dad had Cowboy
talk to me. Cowboy knew dad better’n Red. He told me the
same damn thing. He had Cowboy’s dad talk to me. Even Walker
tried to get through to me. I wouldn’t listen to none of ‘em. Oh,
I listened all right. I just didn’t wanna’ believe ‘em; after
all, I’d been fuck’n around on him with them worthless cunts for almost
two years. I guess I just didn’t really believe he’d do it.
Afterwards,
laying here in that Mexican clinic, I woke up and saw dad sittin’ there
next to me asleep. My hands were strapped down. I couldn’t
reach down and feel myself, but I could feel there was a
difference down there and knew my penis was gone. I looked at dad
and thought about how much I loved him and how I’d given myself to him
that first night to be his slave. What could I have been
thinking? I knew he was a man of his word. I hate to admit it,
but I’m damn glad he is. He loved me enough to make me his. He
forced me to keep my commitment, and I ain’t sorry he did. Now,—
all I wanna’ be is his good and faithful slave. Ain’t nothing
else in life important to me.”
“Do you ever
regret the operation, Son?” Master Jeb asked gently. “You haven’t had
me since the operation, have you, Master Jeb?” Blaine asked
smiling.
“No, Son, I
haven’t. Never has been the right time. Can’t say’s I haven’t
thought about it or didn’t want to.” he chuckled.
“Fuck! With your
permission, Sir, I’ll talk to dad and we can get that taken care of
pretty damn quick. I'd love for you to take my cunt for a ride
and not just around the block either.” Blaine winked at Jeb.
“I’d enjoy that,
Son. You have my permission to asked your old man. We both know
what he’ll say, but it’s good manners.”
“Hot damn,
Master Jeb! Once you’ve tried my pussy, and we’re laying there
together, afterwards, I want you to ask me that question again
about whether I regret the operation or not.” Blaine laughed a
wicked laugh. Jeb gently boxed his ear. “You know,
slave, I think you’ve done fine without my training and that’s a
complement I wouldn’t give many slaves.”
“Thanks, Master
Jeb, coming from you, that means a lot. I thought many times about
asking dad to let me go through your training. To be honest, I don’t
think he could have done without me that long. We haven’t spent a
night apart since that first night I moved into his tent. Even
when I was in that hospital in Tijuana all those times, he was right
there. Night and day he was there. He slept in a chair along side
my bed.”
“Son, I’m here
to tell you, as many years as I’ve known your old man, I can verify for
you he couldn’t do with out you for one night. You’re his
life. He loves you with the height and breadth his soul can
reach. If anything should happen to you, God forbid, he would
cease to exist. I watched what happened to him when Jimmy was killed,
and he took the blame on himself. It was a fucking accident!
Everyone knew it. I saw it happen. There was nothing he could've
done. He grieved all those years until the day you walked
by. I’ll tell you this. It was the luckiest day of your
life.”
“You don’t know
how many times I’ve told myself that, Master Jeb. I’d be dead now
if it weren’t for that old man.”
Blaine finished
his pizza and beer then asked if he might have another beer. Jeb
handed him the beer and pulled him close. He held him for a
moment and kissed him on the neck. He let Blaine go and patted
him on the ass as he pointed him toward the dungeon stairs.
“Thanks, Master
Jeb,” Blaine said over his shoulder then stopped and turned at the
door, “— for everything.”
“You’re more’n
welcome, Son!” Jeb said quietly.
* * * * * * *
I was sound
asleep when I felt someone playing with my plug. No, they weren’t
playing with it. They just popped it out. Damn, it felt
good. I suddenly heard soft music. Don’t know who did the programing in
this dungeon but they had damn good taste. I recognized the piece
immediately. Ravel’s ‘Daphnis and Cloe.’ An hour and a half of
musical orgasms. I felt myself drifting back to sleep during the
slow quite opening section. My sleep was terminated in an instant
when I felt a whip hit my leathered ass. It was not meant to be
sensual either. It was an awaking stroke. It certainly got my
attention. It was followed by about nine more and I had a hell of a
time not coming for the last three. My ass was hot from the heat
generated by the whip. My legs were lowered and brought up under me and
to my sides. My hole was once again exposed for any purpose.
I felt a real
cock at my hole and knew I was about to be fucked. I felt two big hands
on my shoulder and the person pulled himself into me with one swift
stroke. Surely my cup runneth over. My tank was certainly filled to
capacity. It wasn’t Master Jim, I knew how his fit. This man was
considerably larger. No, It couldn’t be. Could it? No, I don’t
believe it. Whoever it was left it in until my ass stopped
arguing and then took a couple of small strokes to help me relax.
That’s all I needed to make positive identification of my mystery
fucker. It was my desert dad. No question in my mind. The
whip and now the fuck. I should have guessed from the whip.
How
wonderful! He and Blaine had come to be with me. My heart
suddenly swelled bigger than my ass was filled. I was going to
give that old man a good fuck if I could. I had just enough
movement with the lower half of my body I could control the position of
my ass. He started fucking me deep and slow to get me stretched so he
could do some harder riding a little later. I made sure my ass
was right there for every stroke. The music was getting more
frantic. Long, long phrases that built and built only to die down
and start to build again. He couldn’t hear what I was hearing or could
he? It began to feel like he was fucking me to the music. How could he
fuck me to the music? He would stop completely when the music
died down and slowly build in his intensity as the music swelled.
Damn, the old
man couldn't have that much sophistication to,— wait a minute? You
never would’ve believed Big Jim had a fucking Doctorate Degree from
Oxford either. What’s wrong with you, Beau? Of course the old man
could be sophisticated enough. I had no way of knowing but he had
a set of earphones and was doing exactly that. Now,— I was the one who
felt stupid and unsophisticated. Me with all my superficial
knowledge of fine arts, never considered the possibility of being
fucked to music; however, it was a new and terribly sensual experience
I was beginning to love. I knew the piece well. (Of music, that
is...) I even conducted portions in student orchestral
rehearsals. The old man fucking me obviously knew the score by
heart, certainly better than I did. He knew when and where each
nuance of the music would be best served with which stroke. I was not
only being fucked by a sensitive old man but by Maurice Ravel as well
who was never known to have a sexual experience in his life. I was
beginning to wonder if there was life after ‘Daphnis and Cloe?’
Dad Beryl must
have continued his fucking ballet for almost the entire score. He
rested for a minute or two and knew the chorus signaled the final
‘dance of death’ and set in to do his own very special, sensual
interpretation. Only his nuance was the ‘fuck of death’ which lost
absolutely nothing in the translation. He knew what the Hell he was
doing and was damn well going to climax this performance with one Hell
of a finish and I was going to share in that climax with ‘un petit
mort’ in this unbelievable pas de deux. He hit his climax with the
ultimate, final surge and upswell of the music. He squeezed me around
my waist to tell me to go with him. This was our one chance
together as a team for greatness. A performance that only happens
once a lifetime and is whispered about by fucking mavens for years
afterward. Maybe they had a huge audience watching this fucking
ballet? I certainly hoped so. God, I hoped they sold
out! I didn’t know,— but I wasn’t going to disappoint him or the
gathered audience.
That sweet old
bumpkin of a man had taken a boy from the farm and elevated his ass
into the spotlights and made him a primo fuck. My cod piece was removed
by Master Jim at the beginning and I shot and shot all over the place.
I pushed back to meet his climaxing thrust. The music came to a
crashing end as my mentor, my partner, my fucking Master, my beloved
desert dad collapsed on top of me, still plunged into my depths, with
both arms around me holding me tight. I could imagine the stage gone to
black and the curtains dropped to thunderous,— no,— no,— tumultuous
applause. The lights come up and my partner is still in character
laying dead with his enormous love muscle thrust into my depths. More
applause and then I could smell the flowers being thrown onto the
stage. Cries of, “Bravo!” “Bravissimo!” I imagined I
could hear. The performance was complete.
* * * * * * *
Big Jim was
kissing Blaine gently after having come in his man-cunt and Blaine was
thanking him for the good fucking when they looked up and saw the green
light flashing on and off quickly. Jim and Blaine looked at the
light.
“It’s morse
code.” said Blaine, “It says, ‘T - h - a - n - k - s
D - a - d!” They must have gotten my message ‘cause I felt the
old man shaking with laughter with his dick still way up in me.
He took it almost all the way out and then very gently put it all the
way back into me as if to say, ‘You’re welcome, Son.’ Damn, I
loved that old man.
I lay there in
bondage once again listening to sounds of the night. Crickets, frogs, a
passing carriage, all recorded sounds played though the
earphones. My ass was cleaned and my plug reinserted. I had
two hot man loads in my ass, Master Jim’s and Dad Beryl’s, to help
float me across the deepest seas of nothingness. A repository for
their sacred trust, their seed. An anal feeding that would add more
male hormones to my all ready flooded system. I couldn’t help but
become part of them. Their DNA was being absorbed into my system.
The product of their bodies were become a sustaining, however small,
portion of my being. I was once again adrift. My soul
satisfied from warm food in both my guts. I was loved, and my
soul was at peace.
I was drifting
ever further in to the abyss of myself; no longer afraid of what I
might confront. I knew the terrors and horrors were still there. I
thought about Chief. I thought of him risking his life to save me when
he could have left me there for the final e-vacs. He didn’t. I
did the same for many other corpsmen and so did he. We were
brothers and I was glad of Blaine’s presence with his Master. In the
excitement of the past week I forgot to call and tell Blaine the news
of finding Chief. He knew him well. Much better than I did.
There seemed to
be an electricity in the air. I could smell it. The power in the
dungeon was overwhelming. Those who have escaped sure death and have
lived to laugh about it and cried in each other’s arms at the closeness
of their peril have an unspoken bond the average man will never
understand. He may only sit and observe the wonder of the survival of
the human spirit being reborn to a new life that came so close to
breathing the dank, foul, odored breath of the dark stranger. The
biggest hurdle was not accepting the gift of life but the guilt of
survival. Try as you may, you can never explain to someone why you
might feel guilty for surviving. It follows you the rest of your
life. You may go to the ends of the Earth and never find the answer,
but you will try,— you will try.
I lay there and
all at once the final duet and chorus of Benjamin Britten’s masterpiece
against the horrors of war, the 'War Requiem,' came flooding into my
mind. I could see the full orchestral score as I recalled the
music in my mind. The final line of Wilfred Owen's poem 'Strange
Meeting' is sung as a duet, back and forth between baritone and tenor.
'Let us sleep now,' one softly sings to the other as if he were
comforting his brother, then the full chorus and orchestra with a boys
chorus singing 'In Paradisium' from the requiem mass swells to the
greatest piece of music since the opening chorus of Bach's 'St.
Matthew's Passion.' The 'War Requiem' is built on the smallest
grain of artistic genius, an augmented fourth.
It seemed that
out of the battle I escaped, Down some
profound dull tunnel, long since scooped, Through granites
which titanic wars had groined. Yet also there
encumbered sleepers groaned, Too fast in
thought or death to be bestirred.
Then, as I
probed them, one sprang up, and stared, With piteous
recognition in fixed eyes, Lifting
distressful hands as if to bless. And by his
smile, I knew that sullen pall; By his dead
smile I knew we stood in Hell, With a thousand
pains that vision's face was grained; Yet no blood
reached there from the upper ground, And no guns
thumped, or down the flues made moan.
“Strange
friend," I said, "here is no cause to mourn." "None," said the
other, "save the undone years, The
hopelessness. Whatever hope is yours, Was as my life
also; I went hunting wild, After the
wildest beauty in the world, Which lies not
calm in eyes, nor braided hair, But mocks the
steady running of the hour, And if it
grieves, grieves richlier than here. For by my glee
might many men have laughed, And of my
weeping something had been left, Which must die
now. I mean the truth untold, The pity of war,
the pity war distilled.
Now men will go
content with what we spoiled, Or, discontent,
boil bloody, and be spilled. They will be
swift with swiftness of the tigress, None will break
ranks, though nations trek from progress. Courage was
mine, and I had mystery, Wisdom was mine,
and I had mastery; To miss the
march of this retreating world, Into vain
citadels that are not walled.
Then when much
blood had clogged their chariot wheels, I would go up
and wash them from sweet wells, From sweet
wells, we dug to deep for war, Even with truths
that lie too deep for taint. I would have
poured my spirit without stint, But not through
wounds; not on the cess of war. Foreheads of men
have bled where no wounds were.”
“I am the enemy
you killed, my friend. I knew you in
this dark; for so you frowned Yesterday
through me as you jabbed and killed. I parried; but
my hands were loath and cold. Let us sleep
now...."
In Paradisium
End Chapter 18 ~
The Ties That Bind Copyright 2004
Waddie Greywolf All rights
reserved ~ Mail to:
<waddiebear@yahoo.com>