Date: Wed, 31 Dec 2008 13:33:09 -0500 From: James True <email@example.com> Subject: The Merchandise Part 3 This story is copyright 2009 by James True. The following is a work of fiction, and it involves sexual situations between men. The author appreciates any and all feedback about the story and the events depicted, as well as the general subject matter of sexual slavery. I hope you enjoy the story. The Merchandise Chapter 3 Jim woke early the next morning. He listened, but heard nothing in the house, and assumed Paul was still asleep. Nothing had happened last night; Jim could not figure Paul out. Was he a fag or not? Did he give him a place to sleep out of pure kindness, or did he want something in return? And if so, what, if not sex? He was prepared to let Paul suck his cock, and he was even prepared to fuck Paul in the ass if that's what he wanted. But Paul gave no indication at all that he wanted any kind of sexual favor. Jim put on the bathrobe Paul lent him and went to the guest bathroom and washed up. He then remembered his toiletries and clothes were in his backpack. He tried to remember where he left them, and thought he left them in the living room. He went out there and looked around, but didn't find them. He went back to the guest bedroom, and looked around there, but they were nowhere to be seen. What could he have done with them? Maybe Paul put his backpack away somewhere, he thought to himself. He noticed that Paul liked to keep a neat house, with everything in its place, so he probably put the backpack in some closet. He'll ask Paul about it when he gets up. Although Paul didn't want sexual favors for helping him, Jim decided he should do something nice for him as payment for allowing him to stay there. He headed to the kitchen, deciding he would cook Paul a nice bacon and eggs breakfast. Assuming Paul had food in the house, that is. He looked in the refrigerator and found it well stocked. He easily found a nice set of pots and pans, and began to cook a nice breakfast for the two of them. Paul awoke to the pleasant smell of bacon cooking. He got up, washed, put on his jeans, t-shirt, and a pair of white socks, then went to the kitchen, where Jim was standing at the stove, barefoot and wearing the short robe. "Good morning, Paul. I hope you don't mind that I made breakfast for us. As I told you, I know how to cook, and figured this is the least I can do for the kindness you have shown me." "Of course," Paul replied, thinking to himself, "it certainly will be the least you do." Jim went on, "I looked for my backpack when I got up. I thought it was left in the living room. I have a change of clothes and stuff in it. Do you remember where I put it?" "Don't worry about the backpack and change of clothes," Paul said. "Today you start your training for your new position, and you won't need any of your old stuff." "Huh? New position? What are you talking about? You found me a job?" asked Jim. "In a manner of speaking. You will certainly be employed." "But what about my clothes? I have to wear something?" "No, you don't. In fact, that robe is even more than you need. Take it off," demanded Paul. "What are you talking about? I don't have anything else on under the robe." "I know. Take it off now." Jim didn't know what to make of Paul's request. Actually, it seemed more like a command. Maybe Paul just wanted to watch him naked. But his tone was scary. This was not at all like the kind man who took him in last night. Maybe this will lead to more than just watching him. Maybe this morning is the time Paul will want payment for his kindness in the form of sexual favors. As Paul stood staring at him, Jim was unsure what to do. Well, he reasoned, if Paul wanted some kind of sexual favor, there was no point in being modest about his body. It was just him and Paul in the house. So, he took the robe off and placed it over the back of a kitchen chair, then stood for Paul to look at. Instinctively, Jim placed his hands before his genitals. "Place your hands to your side," Paul commanded. Jim obeyed. "Very good," Paul said. "Now finish cooking breakfast and serve it to me. And be careful with that bacon!" Jim went back to the stove, feeling very self-conscious, and continued to prepare the breakfast, careful not to let the bacon fat spatter onto his unprotected front-side. Paul sat at the table looking at him, admiring his body. "Very nice," he thought. "Don't know why kids these days insist on hiding their bodies in such ridiculously loose clothing. Training this one will be fun." Jim then looked through the cupboards and drawers, taking out plates and utensils to set the table. Being naked, he decided he would play the tease, and moved around the kitchen in such a way as to show off his assets, so to speak. When he had to bend down to get something from a low cupboard, he would stick his ass up seductively. When he set a place in front of Paul, he carefully brushed against Paul's arm. He found it a little uncomfortable behaving like this, but if it satisfied Paul and got him his clothes back, then what was the harm? After setting Paul's place, Jim started to set another place on the table opposite Paul. Paul then said, "You don't need to bother setting a second place." Jim gave a puzzled look at Paul. "You only eat after I'm done," said Paul. "Understand?" "Not really. I don't understand this at all. Why can't I eat with you?" Paul said, "Because that's the way things are going to be from now on. It's part of your training." There was that word "training" again. Training for what? Jim wondered. Jim put the second set of silverware back in the drawer, then started serving the eggs and bacon on a single plate and placed it in front of Paul. "Thank you. Now, sit on the floor here next to me while I eat." "What?" "You heard me. Don't make me repeat it." Jim was getting more scared with Paul's forceful tone. What had he gotten himself into? Oh, well, best to play along for now, at least until Paul returns his clothes and he can get out of here. So, Jim went over and sat his bare ass down on the floor next to Paul's chair. Paul started to eat the breakfast in silence. Jim felt a pang in his stomach as he realized he hadn't eaten yet. He was hungry, he had prepared the breakfast, yet he wasn't being allowed to eat. This whole thing didn't make any sense. Was Paul a fag or not? Why was he forcing him to sit on the floor hungry? Was he trying to humiliate him? "Paul, what's going on? Why are you making me just sit here? I'm hungry, I cooked, I should be able to eat." At that, Paul took a piece of bacon from his plate and held it before Jim's face. "Here. Eat this." Jim reached for the bacon, but Paul pulled it back. "Not with your hands." Paul moved the bacon back in front of Jim's face, and Jim this time just opened his mouth and ate it out of Paul's hand. "Good boy." Next, Paul took some of the scrambled eggs in a spoon and held it out for Jim. Jim again ate without touching the spoon with his hands. The meal continued like this with Paul eating most of the food and giving Jim table scraps. Jim felt humiliated and powerless. Naked, without knowing where his clothes were, there was little he could do. Paul, meanwhile, was admiring at how well Jim seemed to just follow his commands. He was thinking Jim was a natural-born submissive, and Jim himself didn't realize it. Jim seemed to simply do what he was told. Sure, it wasn't "no questions asked" type of obeying, and there was some hesitation to obeying, but that was more than to be expected for the first day. There were protests, but so far, no sign of rebellion. This was going well. Paul finished eating, leaving some eggs, bacon, and half a slice of toast on his plate. He then placed the plate on the floor and said, "You did good, boy. Now, you can eat what's left. But don't use your hands. Then clean the dishes, and then come to me in the living room." Paul left the kitchen. Jim didn't know what to do, whether to defy Paul and sit up at the table and eat like a normal person, or follow his instructions. He realized, though, that Paul just may be crazy or on drugs or something, and might be dangerous, so he decided he didn't want to provoke him. Staying on the floor, he leaned over and using just his mouth, ate what was left on the plate. He felt ridiculous, but decided it was the safest approach, at least until he could figure things out. Only when all the food was gone did he get up. Clearing the table, Jim went and washed the dishes, hoping that now Paul has had his fun humiliating him, he would give him back his clothes so he could leave. Jim finished drying the dishes and putting them away. He was working up the courage to go into the living room and confront Paul and demand that now that he had done what was asked, that Paul give him back his clothes. Jim marched into the living room and saw Paul sitting on the couch looking at his laptop screen. But before Jim could say anything, Paul said, "Boy, I want to congratulate you. You performed your morning tasks admirably. I was watching on a nanny-cam I have set up in the kitchen, and saw that you finished the breakfast exactly as I told you to. You didn't try to take advantage of my absence to put on the robe or sit at the table. That is good. If you had done either, you would have to have been punished for disobedience." When Paul said this, Jim didn't really hear the part about punishment. Instead, he was puzzled by his own action. Why didn't he even think of putting on the robe. The thought never occurred to him. He was alone in the kitchen, completely naked, and it never even occurred to him to put on the robe. Why didn't it? Paul continued, "You also performed well when you decided, without being told, to cook me breakfast. Very good. You will get rewarded for your initiative." Jim became hopeful at the word reward. Maybe he would be allowed to get dressed and leave. But Paul said, pointing to the floor in front of him, "Come here and sit down." "Paul..." Jim started. But Paul interrupted him. "Boy, your training is just beginning, so I'll forgive your mistakes today. But the first thing you have to learn is you must call me 'sir' or 'master'. Never 'Paul'. Is that understood?" "What? No way! This game or whatever it is has gone far enough. Give me my clothes and let me leave." demanded Jim. Paul reached out and slapped Jim across the face, leaving a large red mark on his cheek. "Don't you dare talk back to me. Ever!" Paul saw a look of terror and shock on Jim's face. "Look," he said more calmly. "I'm sorry I hit you. I promised I would forgive your mistakes today, and I will. But it is important for you to learn. Always call me 'Sir' or 'Master', and never ever talk back to me. Do you understand?" "Yeah, I understand," Jim replied, messaging his cheek. "What was that? I didn't hear you." "Yes, SIR! I understand." There was still defiance in his voice, but his cheek was still stinging, and he did not dare to defy Paul while he was in this mood. "Good, now, sit down as I told you, " Paul said, pointing to the floor before him. Jim sat down on the floor, trembling. "Look, you are being trained for a very important position. But the most important thing you have to learn is obedience, no questions asked. You came to this city just yesterday, you don't know anyone, you have no prospects. Dumb kids like you wind up dead within a week. You are lucky I found you. I can take care of you, train you, teach you your place in this world. You should appreciate what I'm doing for you. Understand?" "Yes, sir," was all Jim could say. "Very well. Now, I told you you deserve a reward for your initiative this morning in anticipating my needs and cooking breakfast this morning. When you are good and can do things without being told, you get rewarded. Now, lean forward." Jim did. "Unzip my pants." Hesitantly, Jim reached up and did so. Now, apparently, comes the sexual favors Paul will want. Jim was nervous and scared. "Good. Now reach in and take out my cock." Jim did so, and for the first time in his life, he was touching another guy's cock. It was an interesting sensation, and he felt a little stirring in his own groins. He knew what Paul would ask next. Part of him didn't want to do it; he was not a cocksucker, and when he was on the bus, he had promised himself he would only allow others to suck his cock, and not suck someone else's . But strangely, part of him wanted to do it. Here was a man's cock right in front of his face, in his hands, close enough to smell; it was an experience he never had before. And almost unthinkingly, he leaned forward and placed his mouth on the head of the cock, kissing it. It was a little moist, which Jim wasn't expecting, but not too bad. Pre-cum, he thought it was called. He opened his lips and allowed the head to enter his mouth. He was surprised it tasted kind of sweet. And for the first time, he smelled someone's manhood. He didn't know quite what to expect, but was glad that Paul at least seemed to have washed himself. Paul grabbed the back of Jim's head and pushed it further down his cock. Jim wrapped his tongue around the shaft, then sucked in. Paul leaned back and sighed. He then pushed in further, and Jim started to gag. "Easy, boy...breathe through your nose. Relax your throat." Jim did, and found he could take even more of Paul's stiffening cock into his mouth. Jim wanted to think this was disgusting, but he found his own cock started to get stiff despite his thoughts. He realized he was enjoying this much more than he should. Paul was holding his head in place so Jim would not be able to remove the cock from his mouth if he wanted to, but Jim found he didn't really want to. This was a very new and interesting sensation. Jim sucked deeper on the cock. Then Paul shoved deeper. Jim started to gag again, and tears started rolling down his face. Paul let up the pressure a bit. But then he pushed again. Paul repeated this process a few times. Each time, he felt Jim was able to relax his throat more. Paul soon let up and pulled Jim's head away. "You're doing very good, boy. Now lick my balls," he said, and Jim moved to do so, soon sucking both balls into his mouth. Paul moaned. He lifted up his stiff cock, and then released it, so that it slapped down on Jim's face. Jim continued to suck on the ball sac. Paul enjoyed this for many minutes, every now and then, slapping Jim's face with his cock. Jim took this without complaint, sucking on the ballsac and smelling Paul's manhood. Then Paul gently gave Jim's head a lift up, and Jim obediently lifted his head up and reinserted Paul's cock into his mouth. Jim sucked it down. Paul continued to put pressure on Jim's head, holding it in place while Jim sucked deeper. Paul's groin started to gyrate, and he continued to hold Jim's head in place as he pushed even deeper, forcing his cock into Jim's throat. Eventually he started to cum. Jim felt the eruption as the cum hit the back of his mouth and started to dribble down his throat. Jim was shocked that he was drinking all this in. Paul eventually loosened the pressure on Jim's head which allowed him to release the cock. Paul smiled at his boy, and noticed that Jim had a nice erection. "You did that very well, boy. If you want, you can whack off to relieve your own built-up supply." Jim did want to. He needed to relieve his erection. "Thank you, sir," he said without even thinking, and he laid down on the floor on his back and started to stroke his own cock. When he did so, Paul lifted one stocking-clad foot and placed it on Jim's chest. The other foot, he placed on Jim's face. Jim wasn't sure why, but having Paul's foot right in his face, covering his mouth and nose so he could smell nothing but Paul's socked foot, made him even more excited. The smell of Paul's foot was like an aphrodisiac. It didn't take long for Jim's own cum to spurt out, all over his chest, with some of it landing on Paul's foot. Paul watched and admired the amount of cum that can come out of such a young body. Paul smiled at his boy. Jim looked up at Paul, not quite knowing what to do next. Is this the end? Will Paul now give him his clothes so he can leave? Paul said, "That is quite a load. But you got some on my socks. Lick it off." Paul placed his foot right in front of Jim's mouth, and reluctantly Jim stuck out his tongue and started to lick his own cum off Paul's foot. When Jim was done doing that, Paul reached down and ran his fingers over Jim's chest, picking up some of the cum that was drying there. He then moved his cum-soaked hand to Jim's mouth and said, "Lick my fingers clean, boy." Jim took Paul's fingers into his mouth, licking his own cum off them. After a few minutes, Paul said, "Very good, boy. Now go into the bathroom and clean yourself up." "Yes, sir." Jim went to the bathroom to wash up. He didn't know what to make of this whole situation. Now that Paul had gotten a blow-job, he will probably give him back his clothes and send him on his way. But another aspect of this whole thing concerned Jim. Why did he get an erection while giving Paul the blow-job. Why did he enjoy it so much? Why did he enjoy drinking the cum? He wasn't a faggot, but he almost didn't want it to end. And the orgasm he felt as he was jerking himself off at Paul's feet. He had never experienced an orgasm as intense as that before. It didn't make sense. After he finished washing himself, Jim went back to the living room. He was still naked, and again, instinctively covered himself with his hands. "Don't cover yourself, boy. You have a beautiful cock. Display it proudly." Jim moved his hands to his side. "I want to thank you for taking me in and letting me sleep here last night." He then thought it a nice touch to add, "And thank you for feeding me your cum." He was then about to add his request for his clothes so he could leave, but Paul interrupted. "Come with me, boy. I want to show you something." With that, Paul stood up and went to the door leading to the staircase to the top floor. Jim really wanted to leave, to get out of this humiliating situation. He was about to again demand the return of his backpack and clothes, but Paul again demanded he come up stairs with him. Paul's tone was again such that he didn't dare disobey him. They went up to the top floor, and it took a few moments for Jim to take in all he saw. He wasn't even sure what it was he did see. The walls were all covered with dark mats. Any windows were also covered, so any light had to come from the overhead lights. There were all sorts of equipment here. Exercise equipment, such as a bowflex machine and a treadmill, were obvious, but there were strange tables and benches, some with straps hanging from them, and what looked like a stock. Then he noticed whips and paddles hanging on the wall, and other things he could not identify. There was a cabinet in one corner. In another corner, out in the open, was a sink and a toilet, And over in another corner was what looked like a jailcell, 4 feet by 4 feet in size. What he saw scared him, and he was about to turn around and go back downstairs. But he hesitated, also a little fascinated by what he saw. The hesitation was just a second or two, but it was enough to give Paul the opportunity to push him into the jailcell. Paul closed the door, padlocking it shut with Jim inside. "I have to go out for a few hours. You'll be safe here, and you can stay out of trouble." With that, Paul descended the stairs, leaving Jim alone in the cell. Jim knew this was no longer a game. He was being held prisoner, and he was naked, a captive of some faggot. A faggot who might do all sorts of things to him. He looked at all the equipment in the room, wondering what some of it could be used for. Some of it, the use was obvious. He had to escape. But what was most scary to him was he was getting an erection at the thought of what Paul might do to him next. He was turned on by the idea of being helplessly used by a gay man. And that orgasm he had! He was not sure he wanted to escape. To be continued. Comments about this story are greatly appreciated.