THE TIES THAT BIND
 Waddie Greywolf

Chapter 2 ~ A Wet Dream Writ Large

Part I ~ Big Jim:  Homo Giganticus

I could hear a pair of big motorcycle boots stomping down the hall.  I looked up as the biggest man I ever saw in my life walked into the room.  He was past big, he was a giant.  Big Jim stood almost seven feet tall or taller and every inch a man.  He had huge hands and bigger feet.  His head was either shaved or he was completely bald; a biker version of the jolly green giant, and except for his head, he was considerably more hairy.  He looked like he should be carrying a giant bean pod under each arm.  Master Jim had fierce steel-grey eyes and a mean, hard look about him until he smiled.  He wore a neatly trimmed, but full bushy black beard and mustache.  He had a ridge above his eyes that joined in the middle.  His eyebrows grew thick and almost together.  Big Jim’s face was craggy and rugged.  He looked like his nose might have been broken several times and lay somewhat flat.  I couldn't decide if he was good looking or butt ugly.  I was still working on his size.  

The huge man walked with a lumbering gait, and reminded me of pictures I saw of a Neanderthal, or perhaps, a pro-wrestler, broad at the shoulder but narrow at the hips.  I couldn't take my eyes off his boots.  He wore the biggest damn pair of knee high Wesco engineer boots I ever saw, and he looked like he was born to wear them.  I wondered what secrets the huge man hid beneath his leather cod piece?  Okay, I decided, he wasn't the best looking man I ever saw, but he was definitely not ugly.  His sheer size was enough to make me fantasize some very nasty thoughts.  Damn, he was a hot man.  He had a self-assured, wild animal attraction about him that made me want to scratch behind my ear with my foot and howl at the moon.  “Woah," Big Jim said looking right at my extended belly.  He had a deep bass-baritone voice which contained a wholesome dollop of slow southern drawl.  Yep, he was a ‘bubba.’  "He ain’t pregnant, is he?" he asked Master Jeb and grinned.

Master Jeb moved behind me and placed his hands around me again. "Watch this,"  Master Jeb said proudly, as he shook my belly making the sloshing sound.

"Damn," Jim said, "you sure know how to fill 'em up, Jeb.  Can I have a feel?" he asked.

"Sure, he's my slave for the evening," Jeb replied, "He don't have much to say about what I choose to do.  Ain’t that right, slave?" he asked and grinned at me.

“Yes, sir, Master Jeb, I'm your slave, sir," I replied and somewhere deep inside me, I knew I meant it.  I would do almost anything the man ordered me. (Scratch the word 'almost'.)

"I like the sound of that," Big Jim said as he began to rub my belly with his big paws and whistled.  "Now, that's the way a slave should be kept.  With a belly full of his master’s hot piss, looking like he was a pregnant whore.  Damned if he ain't a pretty one, too?  Who’s he look like to you, Jeb?" he asked.

“The cowboy,” Master Jeb replied resolutely.

“Could be his double,” Big Jim allowed.

"He didn't lose a drop when he drained me," bragged Master Jeb.

"Shee-it," Jim said, "You know I been looking for a good slave-boy, Jeb.  Can I have him?" Big Jim asked.
   
"Well, he's not a slave yet, but I already have someone in mind for him.  I think the man I'm thinking about might be easily persuaded to become his master," Master Jeb replied, "Beau's new to the idea of becoming a slave so he thought he would try-on being my slave for a while," Master Jeb said and smiled at me.

Big Jim looked me in the eye like he could see into my soul.  The huge man grabbed my arm tightly.  "If it don't work out for you like Jeb plans, boy, and you need a good man to call master— if you're trained or not— look me up.  When you find me don't even speak to me if it ain't to come to me butt naked, fall on your knees in front of me, kiss ma’ boots, and ask me kindly to consider becoming your master, understand?" he asked forcefully shaking my arm.

"Yes, sir, Master Jim," I replied.  Big Jim let go of my arm and moved around behind me.  He put his big hairy arms around me, cradled my piss extended belly and gently shook it for himself.  He gave a hardy laugh.  He was surrounding my body with his wearing his full leathers.  My cock sprang to attention.  Big Jim had the most intoxicating clean male scent I ever experienced.  It was masculine and musky without a hint of aftershaves or deodorants.  It was a powerful, healthy, man smell.  I didn't want him to ever move away from me.  He was the kind of big man I used to choose as a five year old boy to crawl into his lap and curl up on his big chest.  For some reason, I didn't understand then, the men would invariably get a wet spot in their overalls right at the crotch.  Did I exude some passive sexual pheromones at such a young age capable of arousing a sexual response from those mature men?

"You’re  prettier than a speckled pup, slave-boy, and the things I could do with you makes my old prick hard just thinking about 'em.  But, damn, boy," he whispered, "maybe it's best Jeb sets you up with some other master, one not quite so onery as me, 'cause I'm pretty rough edged, demanding, and set in my ways.  If you became my slave, the first thing I’d have done to you is have your cock removed and your balls sewn up inside you.  You’d never think about your dick no more, 'cause I’d feed both your holes so much of my big cock you wouldn't have time to be remorseful.  The only cock you'd think about getting off would be mine.  I'd make you a toy to pleasure me the rest of your life.  I’d also take care of you and love you like you could never imagine," Big Jim said.

I was speechless.  I was stunned.  Here was this huge man I was hopelessly attracted to talking to me about a permanent relationship and removing my penis and hiding my balls.  It was my first exposure to the life style of these nomadic bikers who trained and kept male slaves; and, while it scared the shit out of me, it excited me at the same time.  I couldn't imagine having my penis cut off, but I couldn’t help be moved by Big Jim's candor however misguided I might think his comments; to say nothing of having the balls to say something like that to a total stranger sent my alpha-male indicator into the red zone and boke the needle off.  He was pretty damn cocksure of himself.  Then again, why shouldn’t he be?  He was a fucking giant and built bigger than a Mack truck.

Few men would dare question his actions let alone challenge him.  I was trying like hell, barely treading water, to comprehend their interest in me.  My brain was telling me, ‘Run away, run away,’ but my prick had a mind of its own.  It refused to consider any of my fears.  It outright defied me, its faithful owner and master, and stood at full attention.  It wanted to stay and play with this giant who just might become his executioner.  The son of a bitch was overriding all safety protocol routines in the main computer and drooling enough pre-come to short circuit any communication with the voice of reason who wore the hat.  I was betrayed by my own penis.  It was little more than a rebelious turncoat.  The traitor deserved to be separated from the body of his birth.  Master Jeb must have been watching me pretty close.

"Well, Jim, I can tell you one thing about him," Master Jeb said.

"What's that, bro?"  Big Jim asked his friend.

"He's definitely a boot slave.  I think he just fell in love with yours.  I think you could have ‘em cleaned real good if'n you play your cards right."

You know," Big Jim said, "they ain't had a good cleaning in a  while.  I ain't found me a slave what could really get into cleaning ma’ boots while I beat his ass with my whip," he lamented.

My penis, Benedict Arnold, instantly stood up and saluted— not to be missed by Big Jim.

"Okay, slave, I'm turning you over to Master Jim for a while," Master Jeb said, "You do what he tells you and clean them big boots of his for him.  Think of yourself as my slave, my personal property, and as such an extension of me.  How you treat a master I might loan you to reflects on me, your master.  Go with Master Jim and make me proud of you, boy," he said.  Damn, he really knew the right words to say to push my buttons.

"Yes, sir, Master Jeb," I replied, "I promise I'll do my best, sir," I said meaning every word.  The thought of cleaning the big man’s huge boots made my juices start to flow in my ass again.  I new enough about S&M to know my tongue was going to get a workout, but my mouth began to water just looking at them.  Master Jim's boots were hot, and so was the giant who wore them.  I was sure he came out of his mother’s womb wearing boots.

"Get down there on 'em, boy.  Use your tongue and clean 'em up real good for me," Big Jim demanded.  He pulled something out of the inside pocket of his big leather jacket, and I felt it come down hard across my ass.  It was a short flogging whip.  I never had my ass whipped before, but after a while I began to wonder why not?  I guess I never had anyone care enough to whip my butt.  I could feel Master Jim communicating his interest, his needs, and passion through his whip, and it drew me close to him.  I found myself raising my ass for him to land his best stroke.

"A little stimulus to your butt helps focus your attention to the job.  Keeps your mind on your work don't it, slave-boy?" Big Jim asked rhetorically.  He was right, but I didn't have to tell him.  He knew.  He understood my hunger for attention.  I made sure I cleaned every inch of his wonderful boots.  His big boots smelled and tasted wonderful.  The more I sucked and licked the hotter I got.  He would ‘whop’ me a couple of times with his whip, then gently rub the area with his huge paw.  It took the sting right out, and damned if it didn't feel good with his huge hand on my butt.  I became so excited my ass started dripping.

He noticed drops on the floor.  "What's this, slave?" he asked, as he moved his big hand around to my hole.  I immediately moved my ass so he wouldn't have to reach for it.  I felt him enter me with one, two, then three fingers. "Damn, slave, you always produce this much butt juice when you’re eating a man's boots?” he asked.  He called to the other room, “You sure he ain't had some training, Jeb?" he asked as he gave me another strong blow with his whip.

"None.  I believe what he told me.  They’re few and far between, but you know as well as I do, Jim, some men are born slaves.  That ain't bad.  As a matter of fact they’re the fortunate ones, because once the genie’s out of the bottle there ain't no getting it back inside.  To say someone is born a slave is a compliment, but it’s somewhat unusual.  We don’t find many men, who, from birth were meant to be slaves.  What's more unusual is he's a cocky little butch bottom.  I've tried to talk to him.  I don't think he believes me, but it’s obvious he's hungry for what he's getting right now.

"He needs control.  He craves it.  He'll never be happy without it.  He’s looking for men who will dominate and use him to satisfy his natural instincts to serve.  I think he's found his calling.  From the looks of him eating your boots we may have opened his flood gates.  Did you check out his ass juices?" Jeb asked, he didn't wait for an answer, “Take him to the dungeon if you like.  Try’n talk some sense into his head or beat it into his ass... either is good,"  Master Jeb said and laughed,  "I’d like him to return.  I also told him I might consider taking him on myself as a new slave for training and sell him later after he learned the basics necessary for serving a good master.  What do ya’ think?" Master Jeb asked his partner.
                                          
"I think you'd be a damn fool not to, Jeb," he replied.  They talked about me like I wasn't even there.  Like I was an admired animal they were thinking about buying.  I must be all the things they said because it turned me on even more.  What was happening to me?

"Since you're going to be staying here for a while, would you be interested in helping with his training?" Jeb asked Big Jim.

"Hell, yes, I'd love to.  Between the two of us we could whip his ass into shape in no time to be one of  the best damn slaves ever offered on the Southern California market.  You could name your price, Jeb," Big Jim said.

"Well, if he decides to give himself over to us for training you do understand he will be a financial asset to my business and will ultimately be sold.  Hopefully, to the master I have in mind.  Money is no object for him.  You won't fall for Beau and screw things up will you?" Master Jeb asked his friend.

"No, not if he's part of your business.  I'll keep my feelings in check.  You know me Jeb, if I give my word, you can bank it," the giant said.

"I know, Jim, and I'm kinda glad you wanna’ participate, because I'm gonna’ depend on you to take him to the gym three days a week.  We want to build him up as much as possible, and you’re just the man what can do it.  Besides, Jim, you should really make an effort to check your emotions at the playroom door.  You fall hopelessly in love with your slaves, and then you let 'em walk all over you.  You can still fall in love with them, just be stoic and don't let ‘em know," Master Jeb said and grinned.  I finished Big Jim’s boots.  He was still playing with my ass which I continued sticking up for him to get the best feel he could.  He already had four fingers pretty deep inside me, and I was backing up hoping for more.

"Well, boy, have you thought about it?” asked Master Jeb, “You've heard what we said.  We’re willing to take you on for training, but you have to be ready for it.  You must make up your own mind.  As we discussed you have to ask yourself a lot of soul searching questions for which there are no easy answers.  I know you won't arrive at your decision without weighing every detail.  You may have further questions.  If so, you may contact me anytime day or night.

"One question might come to mind, I'll answer right now.  Are we trying to hard-sell you a package?  Are we shading the truth by telling you only good things about master/slave relationships to recruit you to our lifestyle?  The answer is an unqualified,‘yes;’ however, that ain't necessarily bad.  Military recruiters do it every day.  Consider, I've been a master in this lifestyle for over forty years, and I know a natural slave when I spot one.  It’s not a put down for me to say, you were born to serve a good man.  In short, you have a slave mentality in that nasty-ass ‘butch bottom’ body of yours.

“If we seem evangelical and our comments of encouragement seem geared toward getting you to make a decision we would like to hear, then we’re guilty as charged.  It's also, 'cause, I for one, would hate to see someone throw away their chance for a lifetime of happiness because of the strict, outdated, ignorant mores of our intolerant, repressed society.  Let me put it another way, and that's all I’ll say about the matter, you were born a slave, Beau; you are a slave, and you’ll die a slave whether you ever realize your calling or not.  There's no getting away from the truth, it's just a part of who you are.  Ask yourself, if you feel even a small part of what I've told you might be true, would you really want to live your life denying your true calling, without ever having explored the possibility of finding your bliss by being owned by a good man and calling him your master?

“Only you can decide.  No one will force you to accept anything you’re uncomfortable with; after all, we’re talking about consensual slavery here.  You must agree to it.  You could make a lot worse choices in life.  So many people go through their lives with a hunger in their gut they never try to identify and die never having experienced much happiness.  They settle for ho-hum quotidian lives of quiet desperation.  Don't let that happen to you, Son, you deserve better.  If you decide to join our world, you must make arrangements in your life so you can enter training for permanent slavery.  You must sell or give away all material possessions, and depending on your master's wishes, you might have to quit your job.

“Any money or savings you have must be put into a high yield long term growth savings account.  You will leave the passbook with someone you trust, a good friend, or send it to a relative and tell them you're enterring some secret service and can't be contacted.  Hell, tell them you got a job at area fifty-one and it's so secret no one can know your whereabouts.  Of course, I’ll keep all your personal information about your family in case they have to be contacted in an emergency situation.  You won't need money once you enter training.  I’ll absorb your expenses as if you were my own slave, and you will be my slave until you’re sold.  What's in it for us?  I’ll get seventy-five percent of your sale price, and you will get the other twenty-five percent deposited in your secret account. The amounts are standard auction divisions.

“You will report here at a specified time and contracts will be signed between us.  When you’re ready, we feel you have more than just the basics of training, we’ll put the word out, and you’ll be put on the market and sold.  We won’t invite anyone to bid on you who isn't known to us as a sane, stable, and a financially comfortable master.  Upon an agreed sale other contracts will be necessary.  You must forget your personal savings account and never tell your new master you have it available to you.  I'm not suggesting you lie to your master.  You must always be truthful and honest with him so he may trust you.  You just don't need to say anything about it.  If asked about financial holdings, tell him Master Jeb handled all that for you.

"It will be the truth because I intend to make sure you do these things for your protection.  I will see to it the account is in your name only; however, I’ll be signed on only to countersign any withdrawals to make sure you aren't being coerced or stiff-armed.  I won’t be able to access your account other than to approve withdrawals.  Why the precaution?  You may need the money for an emergency to get out of a bad situation.  Even with the best of plans, shit can happen.  If you feel there’s a valid reason for you to tell your master about these funds, you must, and I repeat ‘must,’ discuss it with me before you tell him anything.  Make some excuse to visit or phone me in private.  My purpose is to see to it the money's there if you need it.

“I've sold good slaves to many satisfied masters and several contacted me later concerning his slaves holdings before he entered training.  I never betrayed the trust of those slaves and simply told the master who inquired, the slave turned over all monies to me as a requirement for their training.  It’s the truth.  “I require all slaves to comply with my order to open a savings account in their name, and it’s my further requirement I’m to be signed on as co-signer; however, the master is satisfied I charged for training.  Don't worry about being sold.  We won't sell you for quite a while.  In fact, if you're afraid, I'll make you a deal.  With Big Jim as your witness, I won't even consider putting you up for sale until you come to me and tell me you're ready.  How's that?  Beside I think we both would look forward to having you serve the two of us and breaking in that tight slave ass of yours— right, Jim?” Master Jeb asked.

"You know I'm in, Jeb," Big Jim replied

"Did you understand everything I covered, Son?  Do you have any questions?" Master Jeb asked.

"Yes, Master Jeb, I understand," I replied, "I don't have any questions which can't be answered later, but I need some time to think about it.  If I decided to accept your offer, it will take me about a month to get rid of my personal possessions," I said.

"That's okay, Son, I understand; however, if you think about it too long you won't do it, and you'll live the rest of your life wondering if you did the right thing.  So, I'm giving you a deadline of one week from today at this time, six p.m., when our offer to train you will expire.  Even if you choose not to accept our offer, I’ll still agree to refer you to other masters who might take you on for a few sessions," Master Jeb said.  

I was sitting in Big Jim's lap in an overstuffed chair.  "I understand, Master," I replied.  I could feel Big Jim's cock getting hard beneath me.

"Speaking of breaking in a slave’s ass, if Jeb don't mind, I think I'll throw you over my shoulder, carry you to the dungeon, and do my damnedest to open your tight little hole I’ve been hearing about," Jim said.

"Would you give food to a starving child, Jim?"  Master Jeb asked.

"You know the way I feel about kids, bro— sure, in a heartbeat," he replied.

"That's one of the most starved little holes I fucked in several years. That slave-ass just ain't been fed enough big hot cocks and it's damn near about to grow shut," Master Jeb joked with Big Jim.

"Damn, sure wouldn't want that on my conscience.  We better get down there and force-feed the poor thing," Big Jim said and grinned.

Take him down to the dungeon, chain him up in the sling, and fuck his ass until his house is haunted or he speaks in tongues.  He's yours to enjoy.  Just take a shoe spoon with you, 'cause he's pretty tight.  I loosened him up a bit, and he's wearing a pretty big load up there.  He might not need too much lubing.  I'll tell you the truth, Jim, his ass is the best fuck I had in a good while.  I'm hoping we get to plow that little butt on a regular basis, at least until we get him trained and sold," Master Jeb said.

"He's gonna' get fucked right good, bro.  He's got me hotter'n a bull in a pasture of fresh heifers.  C’moan slave, you're my meat for a couple of hours," Big Jim said as he grabbed me, threw me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and started for the basement.

“Master?" I asked Big Jim.

“You have a question, slave-boy? he asked in reply.

“Yes, sir.  Would you fuck me wearing them big boots?" I asked in a needy voice.

“I don't do requests, slave,” he said sternly, then threw back is head and laughed, "But to ease your mind, it's the only way I would fuck you," he said as he carried me down the stairs into the huge basement dungeon.


Part II ~ Dream Dungeon

“Now help me off with my clothes, slave.  The quicker we get ‘em off the quicker you get to take a ride on my old stallion, and don't worry, my bite is a hell of a lot worse than my bark," he said and laughed again, “If you took Jeb you won't have no problem with me," he assured me.  I was about to get fucked royally by a giant man who was treating me like he knew me all his life.  He seemed comfortable kidding me.  Underneath his casual facade of fun and play, I sensed there was a master who could be a strong and demanding disciplinarian.  ‘If there’s a God?’ I thought to myself.

It suddenly dawned on me, it's what I wanted from the giant man.  I wanted to experience his control.  I wanted to be submissive to his every desire.  Was this truly what I craved?  Was Master Jeb right?  Fee, fi, fo, fum, my ass.  I wanted to climb the giant's bean stalk.  I could've cared less about reason.  Big Jim was the man of my fantasies, my instant hard-on.  I helped him off with his huge boots and made sure my nose was as close to them as I could without being obvious.  He picked up on me right away and shoved one of them in my face, grabbing the back of my head in his huge paw, and holding it so my face couldn’t get away from the wonderful fragrance of his boots.  He laughed robustly like Captain Morgan, the butt-pirate, about to have his way with his cabin boy.  "Damn it, boy, if you wanna' get a good smell of my boots don't be shy.  A master loves to see his slave boy sniff his boots.  It turns him on," he said.

His crotch was swelling.  I helped him off with his leather pants, watched his huge shaft flop out and stand almost straight out from him.  He wasn't quite as big around as Master Jeb's, but he was a good two inches longer.  I helped him back on with his boots.  I knelt in front of him and put the sole squarely in my crotch covering my dick and balls.  He grinned real big when he saw where I placed it.  He good naturedly took advantage of my vulnerable position when he pretended to press hard to get his feet back in them.  I didn’t move an inch as his big boot pressed into my crotch.  I got light headed and thought I was going to pass out, not from pain but from the sheer ecstasy of a dream come true.  One of my greatest fantasies was to be fucked by a giant wearing the biggest damn pair of boots on Earth and it was about to come true.  I immediately fell to my knees and started kissing them again.

"Well, boy," Big Jim said while I ate his boots, "I been drinking beer all afternoon, and I have ‘ta piss like a race horse.  So, you wait here, while I go to the head," he said.  I noticed he looked at me closely.

"Please, Master, may I have it?" I asked.  What was I doing, asking the giant for his piss?  I already had a belly full.

"I was hoping you might ask, slave; although, you understand I could order you to take it.  I was worried you might have your limit.  Damn, Jeb likes to fill 'em up.  You sure you can handle more, 'cause I got a lot backed up?  I'd hate like hell to waste it if you think you can take me," he said.

Having learned from Master Jeb a little about drinking a man’s piss I knew what to do this time.  I took Big Jim’s cock in my mouth and skinned back his considerable foreskin.  It was already lubricated with pre-come, and I shoved him as far down my throat as I could, past my uvula, and any point of gag response.  I put my hands on Big Jim’s butt and squeezed gently to let him know I was ready to receive him.  It took him a minute, but he didn't try to control the flow when he finally let go.  I could feel the hot liquid gushing down my throat like a toilet drain, and once again I could feel my belly expanding.  I was a little disappointed because I didn't get to taste it.  I'll admit I was developing a taste for man piss.  He finished and told me I could pull off.  I cleaned him real good.  Then he told me he had a little more for me.

"Please, Master, in my mouth.  I didn't get to taste the last batch," I pleaded.
 
“Sure, boy, you like the taste, huh?  That's good.  I've had a lot of slaves  gag my piss down but rarely one who enjoys it.  If you like it that much I can control the flow so's you can take it all in your mouth if you choose; although, I’ll have to say you're one of the only slaves I found who could take a cock down their throat far enough to cancel the gag reflex.  That's hot.  I’d require you to take it sometimes if I get a chance to train you, especially in a social situation.  I'd love to show some wanna’ be masters how a good slave should take care of his master and drain him completely without wasting a drop.  You're talents should become a reflection of my success as a master.  Here, boy, enjoy," he said as he slapped the head of his big cock on my tongue.

I closed my lips around the head and gently sucked.  I didn't have to wait long, and I had a mouthful.  He temporarily stopped the flow, and I let a little slide down my throat, a little more, and a little more until it was all gone.  I imagined man piss would be nasty tasting, but Jeb and Jim's wasn't.  It was strong and flavorful, but it was good.  I gently sucked for more, lightly squeezed Big Jim's butt again, and he gave me another mouthful; down it went; another, and down it went.  I kept squeezing his ass for more and sucking for more flow.

I remembered the calves on the farm when they wanted their mother's milk to flow faster would use their heads to butt her belly.  I wondered if it would work on Master Jim?  I wanted to gulp it down, and he opened the gate.  I must have gulped down eight or nine big mouthfuls as fast as he could pump it out of his fire hose.  I think he was a little amazed.  My belly was stretched to the max.  It looked like a fucking balloon, but it felt hot.  I took it in my hands and moved it back and forth.

"That's all for right now, slave.  Hell, ya’ done good, kid.  You didn't spill a drop, and I was giving you full flow there at the last.  That means a lot to a master to have his slave boy take every drop of his piss or come.  It means your master’s needs are more important to you than your own," he said like he was pleased with me.  I licked Master Jim's big cock getting the last taste of his man piss I could. He even gave me a couple of unexpected mouthfuls, and I held each in my mouth tasting the flavor of his body, swallowing a little at a time until it was gone.  "Now suck on my dick, and leave a lot of spit on it.  That's all the lubricant you're gonna’ get.  I'm about to split your little butt like Paul Bunyan with a big ax.  Jeb busted your cherry, didn't he?" he asked rhetorically.

I slathered him up the best I could and had an idea I was, once again, going to be taken hard.  My asshole started spasming just thinking about it.  Strangely enough, I was looking forward to the pain, and it sure got old swinger's attention.  From the looks of Master Jim's cock I knew I wouldn't be disappointed.  ‘What's wrong with me?’  I thought, 'I would never consider something like this with anyone before.  Why now?'  I didn't want to think about it.  I knew I wanted to do it; end of self debate.

“Get in the sling behind you, boy," he commanded.

I raised my ass up into the leather sling.  Big Jim raised my legs to fit into a ‘Y’ in the chains.  He went to a shelf and got a pair of leather leg cuffs, wrist cuffs, and put them on me then clipped them to the chains.  “There, that should be more comfortable for you," he said as he opened a bottle of poppers under my nose.  My head began spinning from the strong vapors from the clear, yellowish-amber liquid as I breathed deeply.

The next thing I knew Big Jim's cock was completely inside of me.  My ass started to spasm, but this time the pain felt different.  It was still painful but somehow stimulating.  It hurt just this side of good.  My pain meter was still in the bad zone; however, my ass calmed down faster than before.  Even though I didn't experience as much pain as I did with Master Jeb, Big Jim felt damn good when he slammed it home.  That's how I felt about my hole at the moment, it was Big Jim's new home.

I knew I was about to get the second, best fucking of my young life and fuck me he did.  Man, did he fuck me?  It seemed like he fucked me for hours, but that's not a complaint.  I could tell Big Jim loved to fuck, and I found out he was damn good at it.  Once he relaxed me and loosened me up, he was like an E-ticket ride at Disneyland.  I wanted to stay on this wonderful ride as long as I could, so I just kept letting the big man punch my ticket.  I felt like I was going to come several times.  Master Jim would stop fucking me and order me to bite down hard with my ass on his shaft, and the feeling would subside.

He seemed to derive considerable pleasure from of having power over my body to build me up to the point of climax, then insist I not come.  He warned me if I came without permission he would whip my ass.  At that point I didn’t know if that might be a good thing or bad, but from his tone of voice I took it to be a threat.  I believed him and concentrated on not prematurely ejaculating, not because I was afraid of his whip, but because I wanted desperately to please him.  My efforts paid off, and I didn't come.

He taught me how I could use the sling to fuck his dick with my ass.  He stood still, and I would pull on the chains near the upper part of my body.  It would raise me almost off his big dick then I would let go and gravity would cause me to slide the length of his cock and slam into his pubes.  It acted almost like a swing.  I could get a motion going then slam back to the base of his fuck shaft.  I began to think how, in one afternoon’s time, I had the best sex of my life with two of the hottest men I ever met; either one, of which, I would've consider settling down with as my master.

I wondered what my decision would be?  I was enjoying the afternoon living like a slave more than anything I ever experienced.  I also felt relaxed and comfortable calling them master.  I new I could call Big Jim ‘master’ the rest of my life and be comfortable with it.  Big Jim finally announced he was going to get his rocks off and for me to lie back and relax.  He didn't want me working with him.  He explained every master has their peculiarities when it comes to fucking, and he was going to fuck me mean and hard.  He said he knew what he was doing and didn't want me trying to help because I might get hurt.

I didn't know what to expect but after fucking me for a while he fucked me harder slamming the entire length of his big cock into me.  I tried to make my ass as tight as I could for him, but he would fuck me even harder.  I was about to go up the wall because the tighter I tried to make my ass for him the harder he would slam his huge cock into me.  All of a sudden the muscles in my ass seemed to lose all strength.  My hole opened up to him like a time-lapse movie of a flower blooming.  By this time, Master Jim was fucking me like a wild man.  It became clear, he felt my hole relax and lose any ability to tighten.  It was the feeling he was looking for.  It was what he needed to feel he had total control over my body.  I was forced to give it up to him.

Big Jim felt my ass open up without any resistance to the mean savage thrust of his cock and started yelling, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, that's what I want.  It’s what I need.  Fuck’n you good, slave.  Feel that tight little slave butt open right up.  It's mine now, slave.  I own it.  All of it.  All of that little man-pussy.  It’s mine.  That tight little ass ain't so tight no more.  I’m making you give up the good stuff, slave.  Ridin’ you down hard like a fucking Brahma bull.  Opened up that little hole so’s your man can get down to the good stuff.  You handed me a blank check, slave, I'm damn sure as hell gonna' fill in the amount and cash it.  Feel it, slave?  You’re givin’ the good stuff up for your master.  You’re gittin’ it all, slave.  Up your ass, slave, 'cause I'm taking it away from you.  Right, NOW!"  he growled at me.

With that, he shot his huge load into me and let out a loud groan like a dying animal might in the wild, held it in for a minute while he emptied his hot alpha-male cream into my gut, took it out to the head, slammed it to the hilt, held it in again as he emptied more, and repeated the stroke once more each time emptying more of his baby batter into my well fucked and hungry slave-boy hole.  As he came he lost all control of his salivary glands, and he began to drool out of the corners of his mouth.  His spittle was slung everywhere as he moved his head to and fro and side to side like a big slobbering bull with his eyes tightly shut in his moment of release.  His abundant flow of saliva was all over my face, chest, and piss-filled belly.

I never heard of a man losing it like that when he ejaculated.  Some might find it disgusting, but I didn't.  I found it an incredible turn-on and my prick got even harder.  There was an animal quality about him that turned me on like no one ever did before.  It was one of those unexpected surprise moments in sex when you have to stop and rethink everything.  I remember it as my what-the-fuck Big Jim moment.  It was like Master Jim morphed into a wild animal and I had a huge Grizzly bear up my butt, snorting, huffing and puffing, slobbering all over me, while fucking the holy b'jesus out of my butt.

When he recovered, he grabbed the front chains of the sling  and pulled me up toward him.  I was still tightly impaled on his huge cock as he bounced me three times hard to the base of his massive shaft to squeeze the last few drops of come into my ass.  He collapsed on top of me for a few minutes to get his breath with his dick still throbbing and emptying mixed male fluids up my shit chute.  I could swear I felt him pissing, but I didn't say anything.  Unprompted I began to babble.  "Thank you, Master Jim.  Thank you.  Thank you for the good fucking, sir.  Thank you for fucking your slave-boy’s ass.  Thank you, sir.”

"You weren't too bad yourself, slave boy.  You stayed with me all the way with no complaint," he complimented me.  His words were like gold to me.

He remained on top off me relaxing and catching his breath.  Damn, he was big and smelled great.  If God gave me one wish at that moment it would be for Master Jim never to remove his big penis from my ass.

"Did Jeb teach you how to use your ass to suck a man’s dick?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," I replied.

"Good, suck it a little to get the rest out.  Like you’re milking it.  There— yeah, that's right.  Just take a little longer— yeah, you got the idea.  You're getting it— getting it all, slave.  You're getting all my come in your little catcher.  Don't wanna' cheat cha' none.  A good slave-boy deserves to hold all his master's hot cream on deposit.  Hell, Jeb knows what he's talking about, your are a natural slave," he said.  

He pulled completely out, and split my ass as he gave me one final, hard, slam dunk ride to the base of his huge biker cock.  At that moment, I knew what a roller coaster junkie must feel like.  After a few minutes with his cock still up my butt he yelled up the stairs to Jeb,  "Was he allowed to come today?"

"Yep!" Jeb hollered back.

"Then you don't get to come again, slave," he said.

"Yes, master,"  I replied trying to be understanding, but damn, I needed to come bad.  I had two loads of come from two of the hottest men I ever met deposited in my sperm bank and a belly full of alpha-male biker piss.  Shit.  I wanted to come in the worst way.  I just thought how good it would feel when I got home to lie back, take my good time, rub my piss filled belly, and jack off.

That thought no sooner entered my mine when Master Jim spoke, "You don't whack off after you get home this evening, slave.  That's an order.  You're still our slave until Jeb releases you and this order was given before you were dismissed," he grinned like he could read my thoughts.

"Yes, sir, Master Jim, I understand.  I'll obey," I said quietly,  'Where the hell did that come from?'  I thought to myself.  Once I leave this place I'm no longer beholden to him or Master Jeb.

"Okay, slave, jump down out a’ that sling and clean me up.  Oh, yeah, while we been talking, I unloaded another six pack up your butt.  It'll flush you out real good, but you hold it in 'til you get home," he ordered.  He walked over to the shelves and came back with a well greased large black butt plug.  “Relax, I'm gonna’ snap this into your ass to keep it from leaking on your way home.  You can return it when you decide what your answer will be,” the big man said.

Master Jim knew what he was doing.  It took him no time to pop the big thing into my ass.  It was tight but not uncomfortable.  I got down out of the sling, fell to my knees, and began licking and cleaning  Master Jim’s cock.  It was the second time in one day I was cleaning a master after he used me.  Once again, I felt a need to serve this man, my master; this huge bear of a man.  My need to serve this giant man was greater than any drive in my life.  I was grateful I had enough sense to clean myself before I came for my interview.  When I finished, and he approved of my job cleaning him, I thought he might favor me with some more piss.  Instead Master Jim climbed up in the sling and threw his legs up to rest in the ‘Y’ of the chains.

"Get down there and clean my butt, slave.  Do a good job and I'll let you have some more of my boots for dessert," he said.

"Yes, Master," I replied.

I moved in toward his hairy butt.  It smelled warm and earthy with heavy musty male body odors.  I started licking his hole and cleaned it good all around the outside.  I concentrated on the rosebud and cleaned it good.  It tasted like Master Jim’s big body smelled; clean, strong, and masculine.  I never experienced so many new experiences before.  My mind was spinning.  I felt sad I finished so quickly.  "Get back down there, slave, you’re not through yet,"  Master Jim growled, "Get that tongue in my hole and clean it out good, slave-boy.  Spread my butt with your hands and my asshole with your thumbs to get your tongue up there as far as you can," he demanded.

I did as ordered.  I spread his ass cheeks and sunk my tongue in his ass as deep as I could get it.  Master Jim began to moan and move his butt around to fuck my tongue with his ass.  I got some of the best flavors I tasted all day.  I cleaned every bit of his hole and loved it.  What was happening to me?  Hours before I would never considered doing anything like this to anyone and here I was cleaning out of this giant man's asshole, eating like the first pig to the trough.  I sucked the big man's hole with pleasure allowing my fantasies to run wild like a herd of cattle imagining the most unthinkable dirty scenario should he actually choose to respond to my knocking on his backdoor.  I could never imagine myself doing this with any other man except, perhaps, Master Jeb.  I guess it had a lot to do with the man it was attached to and there was no doubt in my mind Master Jim was my ultimate fantasy alpha-male.

I saw the proverbial handwriting on the wall written in big neon red letters screaming at me; it was time I stopped asking myself stupid questions, let loose whoever was locked up inside me, and let him enjoy the wealth.  Something broke inside me, another epiphany perhaps, I am the person inside me.  A slave dwells inside my body I've denied for too long and he was pushing every other personality ilk aside, elbowing his way to the front of the crowd to fall on his knees, give of himself unconditionally, and be used by this alpha-male like it was the most natural thing on Earth for him to do.  Here, in this world, among leather, boots, and masters, my internal slave belonged.  He would be suppresed no more.  He needed to be set free to find his rightful place in the universe.

“That's good, slave, you done a good job.  My hole ain't felt that clean in a long time.  I promised you dessert, didn't I?  More of my boots.  Get down on 'em, boy, and enjoy.  Pig out," he ordered, and the slave inside me obeyed his order.  For the second time that evening, I cleaned and tasted his big boots from top to bottom.  I even cleaned the vibram soles.  "Com’mer, Son," Master Jim said as he pulled me up from sucking his boots to hold me in his arms.  Master Jim grabbed me around the waist lifted me off the floor and slung us both onto a leather covered futon in the dungeon.

We lay together with his dick sticking through my legs, quiet for a while.  With his big arms around me he began to lightly play with my tits.  Maybe it was only because someone was paying me attention, but I was eating it up, and it felt damn good.  A flood of emotions raced through my mind.  Thoughts kept having a free for all in the center of my psyche, slugging it out for control.  A side of caution versus the fuck-it-alls.  Each side was yelling at each other like a bipartisan political rally gone bad.   'Shut-the-fuck up, Goddamn it!  Now hear this.  Everyone calm down.  Just stop it.  You stupid over-analytical, pick-it-to pieces piece of shit.  Just let it be for Christ sake,’  I yelled at myself and my over stimulated psyche.

"Master Jim?" I spoke softly.

“Yes, slave boy," he replied.

"Thank you for the good fucking and letting me clean your hole.  Thank you for letting me clean you boots and thank you for— well, if I left anything out, thank you for that, too.  I ain’t never done nothing like this before and probably never would if I hadn't met Master Jeb and you.  I think I owe you and him a lot.  Even if I don't choose to become a slave I want you to know how much I appreciated and enjoyed all you've taught me this evening," I said taking the high road.

Big Jim looked me in the eyes, then kissed me like he fucked me, long, hard, and deep.  He reached down to my crotch, and grabbed me around the base of my cock and balls with his thumb and forefinger of his rough paw.  He began to twist, pull them down, and out from my body like he was trying to separate them from my crotch.  He stopped kissing me and spoke softly in my ear,  "You ain't gonna’ need them no more, Son," he said as he pulled and twisted my cock and balls.

"But, Master Jim," I said with concern and fear, "I won't have nothing to piss through.  I wouldn’t have my dick to play with, and sometime it's the only sex I have for months.  A man like you or Master Jeb don’t come along every day.  I go for months without bringing anyone to my bed, because I won't compromise just for the sake of sex.  If I lose my cock and balls I won't be able to come anymore, and to me that's what sex is all about.  That kinda talk really scares the hell out a’ me," I confided.

"Shhuu..."  Master Jim whispered to calm me as my voice  rose.  "Well... "  he said and then paused,  "A good surgeon can relocate your piss hole to be about an inch or so forward from your asshole.  I watched the operation on my last slave, Scout, who died about five years ago.  The name his parents gave him was Brent, but he weren't no 'Brent' if you know what I mean?  When I first met him he was helping a friend of mine put a new starter in his truck.  He worked his butt off helping the guy, and I kidded him about being a boy scout.  I called him ‘Scout’ from then on.  Everyone knew him as Scout.  Even his other dad, the birth one, started calling him Scout.  We went to Europe to visit a great aunt and uncle of mine in Italy.  Somehow, he contracted scarlet fever, the European doctors misdiagnosed him, and he died within days.  We were together seven years.

"It's true you wouldn't have your dick to piss through. You'd haf‘ta  sit on the toilet to pee, but you would adjust.  You'd still be able to come.  It would just shoot out your little piss hole.  They can put you're balls back up in the cavity they descended from during adolescence and keep them there with a couple of pieces of surgical saran sewn to the sides of the openings as a cover.  Some say you need the testosterone they produce, but I'd keep your ass pumped so full of my gizz, your lower colon would absorb more male hormone than your body will ever need.  I know'd slaves whose masters had them removed.  One’s a competition body builder today.  He gets more'n enough male hormones from his master’s come up his butt.  His master plugs his ass after each fuck'n so's his slave is forced to absorb as much as possible.

“He’s really a sight.  We went to a pool party in Palm Springs one afternoon, and he and his master were there.  His master never allows him to wear clothes in private and always keeps his muscled butt plugged.  He was walking around the pool in the buff, and he look great.  Body by God with a crotch by his master.  His master had it tattooed so it was all one color and there were no scars or seams.  Just beautifully smooth and flat with nothing there.  You'd swear he was born that way.

"He loves to have people pet and scratch him around his crotch, and his master encourages it.  When my slave Scout saw Billy for the first time he couldn't take his eyes off him.  He was mesmerized.  At first I couldn't tell if Scout was afraid of what he saw or if liked it and was fascinated.  After Scout had a couple of drinks he began to loosen up.  The slave, Billy, walked over, knelt in front of me and greeted me as Master Jim.  After we performed the ritual greeting he asked permission to meet and talk with my slave.  I knew him and his master well, and I ordered him to stand at parade rest for inspection.  He put both arms behind his back, spread his legs, and proudly  presented his crotch for my inspection.  I scratched a spot underneath I knew would make him go crazy.  I rubbed it and petted it a few times.  I saw in my peripheral vision Scout was agog.  I ordered Billy to turn around and present his ass for inspection.  He quickly obeyed, spread his legs, bent over and grabbed his ankles.

"I pretended to check his butt-plug to see if it was seated properly.  I told him I was going to have to re-seat it.  Of course, he thanked me.  I ripped it out of his hole in one swift movement, held it up for Scout to see the size, and quickly shoved it back in.  I ordered him to push back with his ass, and I kept pushing it at the base to make sure it was seated properly.  I ordered him to stand and be at ease.  I told him it should feel a bit better for him.  He agreed, and thanked me again. He offered to clean my boots before we left he was so grateful.  We chatted for a few minutes.  I introduced him to Scout and they began to talk.  The next thing I knew he was at parade rest again, and Scout was scratching and petting  his crotch.  I was surprised when Scout turned to me and asked permission to clean it with his tongue.  I gave my permission, and they both got off on the experience.  Billy was all Scout could talk about on the way back from Palm Springs.  They became great friends.

"Scout used to shoot out his little hole and claimed it felt better than coming though his dick.  Like you, he was afraid, and wouldn't consider any body modifications.  He made it a stipulation in our contract when I took him for my slave.  I was so in love with him it didn't matter to me at the time, but when a master makes a concession like that to a slave right out of the gate he gives up a certain amount of control and unless it's complete, it means he's a master in name only.  As time went by, he got to know some of the other slaves who were altered like Billy, and began to like the look of a smooth crotch.  He told me we're only afraid of things we don't understand, and when he understood, he came to believe it was the greatest gift he could give me.  He told me he couldn't imagine continuing in a Master/slave relationship with me unless he gave them to me.  He felt he was holding back in our relationship.  I never felt that way even though those things can be important to me.

“Since he never had access to money, he couldn't go out and buy me a present for a special occasion, but he was creative in doing little things for me he knew I hated.  He made tickets for those hated jobs around the house and gave them to me at Christmas and Birthdays.  I could cash them during the year and get out of them.  Of course, I could have ordered him to do it, and he would without question.  The point was, it was from the heart.  On my birthday, the third year we were together, he gave me his cock and balls.  He tied a big red bow around them and put on a pair of baggy denim pants.  He gave me a beautiful card and wrote a cryptic little ‘P.S.’ at the bottom.  ‘I'm going to see to it that we get rid of some of the worthless junk and baggage we've got lying around here doing nothing.  I know it would make us much more happy.  By the way, my present is hidden in my jeans.  It's small and not worth much, but it comes from my heart.  Now, open your present.’

“I thought he was going to clean the garage or attic for me or maybe he got me a new piece of sex jewelry.  He was forever finding something kinky for us to play with.  Stupid me, I saw the bow rapped around his cock and balls, but wasn't putting two and two together.  I started feeling around the bow to see if there was something hidden underneath.  I got halfway around and light dawned.  I looked up into his eyes questioningly and saw his eyes were tearing as he slowly shook his head affirmative.  He was crying.  I was crying.  Hell, we were a mess.  I was blown away.  I certainly didn’t expected it.  I think it was the best birthday present I ever got.  I fucked him five times that night and made sure he came each time.  That was the last five times he ever came out of his dick.  The next morning we were in the surgeon's office in Tijuana.  I wasn't about to give him time to change his mind.  He often said he wished he’d it done when we first got together.

“He changed completely.  He gave up fear.  He would walk into a lake of fire if I took his hand and led.  He found some inner peace he never had before.  He became my rock when the world was going crazy.  He stopped playing a ‘role’ as my slave.  He became my slave, my possession, my toy, my boy, and my love.  He trusted me to take him to the dark side of the moon and bring him safely home.  He found what he needed.  He tried hard and almost became the total slave he knew I needed and wanted him to be.  We grew much closer together.”  A long silence passed between us.  I sighed and began to tear up.  Big Jim continued, “To be truthful, though, our love was never fully complete.  I knew he loved me in his own peculiar way, but there was always a part of Scout I couldn’t touch.  For the most part I loved him with all my heart.  I guess I still do,” he lamented.

"I'm sorry, Master," I said softly.  Big Jim didn't say anything for a while, and I didn't push.  I could tell he was hurting inside.  It was such a powerfully emotional moment for me to see this big man, this giant, almost break in two.  We lay together, silent for a long while.  "Can I tell you a secret, Master?" I asked.

“Lying here in my arms with my come up your butt, my piss in your belly, after slamming a bodacious fuck into your slave ass, I think you earned the right to tell your master a secret,” he said, "Of course you can, slave, you can tell me anything,” he added.

"It feels natural for me to call you master, sir," I said and held my breath.

Master Jim was quiet for a moment.  "Well, when you're brain is confused with conflicting feelings about making your decision to become a slave, remember this secret you shared with me.  Then listen to what you said, think about what the words really mean, and all their ramifications.  Sometimes our hearts blurt out truths our minds aren't ready to accept.  I have to confess it feels pretty damn good to call you my slave, but you know we can't go there.  You heard me give my word to my best buddy, my brother.  I won't say it will be easy.  It may be hard, but I'll keep my word,” he said.

Master Jim got up and went to the shelves that contained a lot of sexual equipment.  He returned with a harness contraption.  He put a wide black leather belt around my waist which had a black leather "V" attached with rivets to the front of the belt.  It was attached to a heavy wire cage he put my cock and balls in.  It was attached to another three quarter inch strap that ran from the base of the cage to a four inch ring that ringed my hole.  Another strap ran from there up the crack of my ass and connected to the "D" ring on the wide leather belt.  The same "D" ring that held the four inch wide belt.  Big Jim cinched all three connections up tight in the back and strapped the plug tight in my ass.  Then I heard a lock click in the back.

"I'm gonna' make sure you don't jack off for at least a week.  It's locked in the back, and I have the only key so you'll have to wear it when you come back.  When you get home and need to take the plug out, move the ring to the side of your butt, and you can get it out.  It's gonna' be a little tight, but you can do it; however, after you use the toilet and clean yourself, I expect you to return my plug to your butt and wear it as my bond 24/7.  I'm providing you with the control you need for one week as a test to see if you're really serious about becoming a slave.  You will sleep with it, and wear it to work every day until you return, and I remove it.  You can piss through the cage and shit through the metal ring around your asshole what holds your plug in.  It will fit under your clothes.  This exercise will be good for you.  In a way, it’ll be like living without your cock and balls, ‘cause you won’t have access to play with ‘em.

“In a couple of days you’ll forget about them.  You can go into a stall at work and sit down to piss.  No one will notice the cage your master makes you wear.  It will remind you someone cares enough about you to want to extend his control over you.  By this time next week you should be so fucking horny old Jeb'n me'll have 'ta wear full body armor to protect us," he said and laughed. "You needed to give what we took from you today.  Jeb is right.  You need to serve a man, but not just any man.  You need a special man, a strong willed man of gentle purpose, who will know how to use you to your fullest and demand your very best.  Jeb can sense your need and potential.  I ain't never seen him fail to call one right.  It's like a sixth sense with him, but now the rabbit’s jumped out of the hat, it's gonna' be hard gettin' it back in.

"When we tell you we think you’re a natural slave, it's a compliment, and not because we need to recruit you.  Hell, there’s dozens of bottoms out there playing at being a slave, but there's damn few who can really appreciate the subtleties of being a slave to a real master.  A complete slave he can be proud of.  I was lucky to have found one.  I may never find another.  We feel you could become a fine slave for the right master.  I'm sure Jeb already has good master in mind for you; unfortunately, it ain't me.  Since you experienced what you did today, you ain't gonna' to be able to go back to tricking.  In a way, we've ruined it for you.  We know what you need, so maybe, when you're by yourself and have time to think, you’ll agree.

"You might begin to understand you probably will never be happy until you're properly trained and serving a good master.  Anytime you have a negative thought cross your mind about becoming a slave, bite down real hard on my plug you be wear'n up your butt.  Give yourself a little fuck'n with it, smile to yourself, remember the man what cared enough to fill your empty hole, and say a word of thanks for the good master what gave you permission to fuck yourself with his gift,” Master Jim said like he was reciting a soliloquy from a play.

"I've got a lot to think about, that's for damn sure," I replied.

He held me tight for a minute, looked deep into my eyes, then he kissed me tenderly for a good while.  He swapped spit with me for a few minutes then kissed me gently again and whispered in my ear,  “As much as I'd like to, we can't do this anymore.  I made a promise to my brother.  If you decide on training, I'll enjoy training you in all areas of Master/slave protocol, I'll enjoy being your workout coach, but I gave my word.  I have to live by it.  I’m a guest in Jeb’s home.  So there's no misunderstanding, when you're fully trained you will be sold.  I can't and I won’t interfere," he said without emotion.  It was like he took a cold blade and stabbed me through the heart.  I can remember actually grabbing for my heart and gasping for breath.  He ignored me.

‘That’s an easy way to give the kid the brush off, to tell him you don’t want him because your brother has first dibs for your future,’ I thought.  That was the only thing about the experience that puzzled me.  I didn’t know how to feel.  I just spent the most intense couple of hours with this man I ever spent with anyone in my life.  He opened his heart to me, and I open my door wide for him.  What was I to think?  Despite his size and alpha-male persona, was he, in reality, just another typical blow-hard egocentric leather fairy who told you anything you wanted to hear to throw a fuck into you and then erase everything by yelling “King’s-X” and bolting for the door?

I was trying to hint to him, maybe too subtly, I could love him and serve him, but his mind wouldn’t hear it.  He was closed to any possibility of him and me.  He scared me to death; yet, there was an unabashed romantic side to the gentle giant that riped me a new asshole.  If that didn't his cock certainly did.  My bunghole had never been such a happy camper.  Hell, I didn't want my cock and balls lopped off to hang on the wall of some sociopath trophy hunter, but without question, I knew, somehow, I had to be with this man again, no matter the cost.  I was drawn to him like a moth to a flame.  Can conditioning really happen so quickly?   

I enjoyed being topped by Jeb and had no problem thinking of him as one of my masters, but there was just something wild and untamed about Big Jim I never experienced before.  I was drawn to him like a magnet.  I felt, in my freshly fucked gut, we were destined to be together.  I couldn’t help myself thinking about him not only as a master, but ‘my’ master.  I could think of no greater purpose in life than to serve the giant man and share his life as one of his possessions; and yet, in reality, I knew very little about the man.  I didn’t want to think about it, but I knew if the price was my cock and balls, I would seriously consider it.  No sicker or confused puppy walked the Earth than me at that moment.

If I agreed to slave training, Master Jeb would eventually sell me to someone.  It might even be someone I didn't know, and I'd have no choice but to become his possession.  Big Jim was out of the question, yet hope burns bright in a hungry heart.  I heard Master Jeb make Big Jim promise he wouldn't become attached to me.  In a way, I could understand Big Jim’s reluctance, but come on, after what we just shared?  Was I crazy?  Did I imagine the chemistry which passed between us?  Was he a passive/aggressive psychopath?  Did he have no feelings, needs, or personal dreams beyond his narrowly defined parameters?  On the other hand, if I didn't enter training, I wouldn't be able to be near Master Jim, and my heart was telling me that wasn’t an option.  Should we follow our hearts which all too often get broken, or listen to our school-mar’m priggish brains?  Shit, I really did have a lot to think about and only one week to do it.


End of Chapter 2 ~ The Ties That Bind
Copyright © 2000 ~ 2011 ~  Waddie Greywolf
Mail to: <waddiebear@yahoo.com>
Proofed: 04/27/2011
WC 11781