Dirt

Three Slaves

One Accidental Slave, One True Slave, and One Conniving 'Slave'

Characters

The three masters and their slaves
• Mr. Beauregard Black, age, a young 42, pederast, falling victim to a small boy, and Zack Fell, age 15, a small boy, barely pubescent and quite cute, intelligent and brave, but outrageously naïve (chapters 1 and 4)
• Mr. Ben Boywright, age 57, millionaire philanthropist, and Adulio Lopez, age 12, prepubescent son of Ben Boywright's gardener and housekeeper, and Ben's 'special' boy (chapter 2)
• Agent August Pristol: age 36, FBI, and with his own secret, and Tiwonge Chimbalanga, 14 year old slave, and Agent Bristol's secret (chapter 3)

  Other Characters:

• Detective Terrence O'Malley, phlegmatic and jaded, and not adverse to doing something unlawful to get the bad guys
• Dr. Steven Shreveson: age 42, MD and research biochemist
• Gung Bhan: age 16 (but looks 12), Vietnamese boy ‘found’ 5 years earlier, and Dr. Steven’s rambunctious slaveboy
• Mark Peterson: age 50s, rich playboy from New York
• Billy: age 12, Mark’s ‘houseboy’

Of course, for the not quite normal part, Ok, so let's talk about that. Zack was about as gay as you could get. (Though in fact being gay IS normal, Zack had trouble with parents who would definitely not agree). But so you don't judge things too soon, Zack was definitely all boy. The gay part was in how he was attracted to ONLY boys. Ok, even men sometimes in the right scenario. So when you read that part about "as gay as you could get" it had nothing whatever to do with how he acted or was even perceived. In fact no one, not even his best friend Xiong, knew or even suspected he was gay. (Only Qiao, Xiong's twin sister, and Zack's sometime 'girlfriend,' knew this 'terrible' secret). As mentioned, Zack was all boy. Though on the small side – Ok again, very small side – he was still quite athletic and participated in all the usual boy things. So what if he also liked to read and write. That was Ok at least in the crowd he paled around with. Not quite the geek squad but they all excelled reasonably well at school. They just weren't into proving it to everyone. Xiong happened to be as smart as Zack, but the two of them usually kept off the geek radar. Their straight A's were mostly between themselves and their proud parents.

The two boys, one rarely seen without the other, were considered 'good boys' even by their respective parents. So it was quite uncharacteristic that Zack had gotten into his current situation. And did it alone. He looked at the guy driving the police car and gave out a big sigh. How the hell was he ever going to explain this to his parents? HE was the 'responsible' one. Of the three siblings – he had a brother a year older, and a younger sister – he was the one who always showed his 'proper maturity.' Well, Ok, most of the time.

But today he had been left alone at home for the first time in his entire life and how did he show his maturity? By allowing his IQ to slip to such dangerously low levels because his libido had momentarily taken charge. Ok, so maybe not so momentarily. This had been planned for two weeks ever since he had known of the opportunity. Ever since he knew he'd be left on his own for an entire day. Hell, it wasn't as if he had planned on anything that far out. All he wanted to do was to sneak into one of those porn places and maybe get to actually see someone's naked genitals. That had been as far as his dreams and imagination had gone. In fact he had been pretty scared to think about anything further. Hell, with AIDS and all the other scary stuff out there. He wasn't that stupid even with his hormones in control.

So Zack had taken public transportation to the 'Boystown' area of Chicago, a name which had been attached to an area of the city that was well known for all manner of gay establishments including several gay bookstores and a gay porn shop also famous for its 'booths' where two strangers could 'hook up.' He had hoped to sneak into the rear of the establishment as the door opened for a departing customer. Zack had been there before and had witnessed how he could sneak in but had chickened out at the last minute. But now he had been determined. Just watching boy-boy sex on the Internet was no longer enough. He so wanted to see a naked penis and testicles and even possibly give someone a hand job. Of course he had stubbornly refused to listen to that part of his brain which was trying to point out all the possible dangers. And the fact that not only was he just 15, he looked 13 at best. But after screwing up his courage, fueled by his rampant hard-on, which he had had to maneuver upwards so that it would be both more comfortable and less noticeable, he finally saw his chance.

The back door this time did not fully close and lock, as two men insouciantly made their way out of the establishment into the adjoining parking area. Zack snuck from behind a strategically located dumpster and snuck into the back door. And was petrified as he was almost blind in the dim light. But the very last booth was open and the interior inviting. Zack, his heart beating hard enough to be felt, slithered inside and closed the door. And the very first thing he became aware of was the unusual acrid smell, which he was quite able to place. He looked down at the floor and a small trash can in a corner was full of tissues and…, well, and other stuff. Well, he soon became much more interested in the view screen and the obvious button which could wind through choices of movies; and wow, they were all gay orientated! He was quite ecstatic and even more aroused. He quickly found one that appealed showing a view of two black men having their way with a smaller white twink. As one black man was shoving his obscenely large prong up the poor boy's butt, his partner was forcing the boy to lick his nether regions. As he fed a bill into the proffered slot, he immediately pulled down his pants and shorts and gripped his now dripping boner. For some reason this kind of action, and in this dangerous setting, seemed to excite him even more than viewing porn on his home computer. (The action on the screen Zack wished had been more convincing but unfortunately the white boy was actually not resisting very much). Zack suddenly stopped himself from coming to a too-soon orgasm. He wanted more. But did he dare? He could hear several sets of feet walking just outside his locked door. Dare he open his door and thus invite someone inside? It took another eternity for Zack to again screw up the courage, undo the lock, and allow the door to swing inward several inches [~ 6 cm]. It did not take long. A set of feet stopped momentarily outside the door, then a set of hands opened the door. Zack looked up at an older man, probably in his forties, but not too bad looking. His heart was pounding as he saw the surprise on the man's face. Would the guy leave? Turn him in? Or what?

After a brief hesitation the guy quickly stepped inside, locked the door, sat down in the seat at the back of the booth squeezing Zack against the far wall. He laid a hand on Zack's thigh and, getting no resistance, finally spoke.

"Little young ain't you boy?"

Zack could not speak. He had all he could do to merely nod his head.

"How'd you get in here boy?"

Zack finally squeaked out: "Back door."

The man smiled. And reached out his other hand and hooked it around the boy's small chest. Feeling no resistance, he pulled the small boy onto his lap. Zack could feel the man's erection jutting upward into his butt. His own was just about to split his pants. Zack didn't know whether to be alarmed or excited. Excitement momentarily won out.

After a while, the man reached over and fed another bill into the machine and as he brought his hand back he purposefully cupped the boy's genitals, which elicited a small gasp from the boy. And soon after, as he felt the boy lean back into his body in the grip of a fierce arousal, he started to open the clasp on the boy's belt. He was encouraged by a total lack of resistance. And another small moan. He got bolder as he then slipped his hand into the boy's pants. He himself got amazingly aroused as he started fondling the boy's small package and rod hard penis. He let out his own small moan. But in spite of the immense sexual arousal, Zack was starting to panic. He could envision all manner of happenings, and so many of them had to do with having unprotected sex with a total stranger. A guy who visited this kind of place and apparently not averse to having sexual contact with other strangers was at best suspect. Very quickly Zack's panic overcame the hegemony of his libido.

The man of course knew what was happening. He had been quite thrilled as the boy passively leaned back into his body. He even started thinking about how he could seduce the quite obvious naïve and inexperienced boy back to his own apartment. But suddenly, to his immense chagrin, his prize bolted upright, pulled his belt tight, and turned toward the door. Zack realized what had almost happened and went into a blind panic. With gasping breath, the boy struggled to open the door to the small booth. The man's first reaction was to grab onto the boy's arm to hold on, but he quickly came to his senses and realized that to force the boy to do anything more would precipitate almost certain exposure and subsequent disaster. He sighed heavily as he allowed the boy his swift escape.

Unfortunately for Zack, his gasps and squeals had not gone unnoticed. The attendant was vigilant enough to investigate. The rules were quite strict. One person only to a booth. Otherwise there were legal problems. Just as he neared the last booth next to the back door, the door to the booth opened and a small boy, looking at him as if he were the devil in pursuit, made a dash toward the back door and reached full explosive run in three steps. The attendant was stunned as he realized that the person had been quite under-aged. He went through the closing door and saw the boy running as if the hounds of hell were on his heels. He didn't know whether to laugh or shout. Shaking his head, he re-entered the building before the door could lock, only to see someone almost as quickly withdrawing through the front of the building. Well it would certainly not have been the first time such had happened.

Outside, Zack's heart would not stop pounding. He looked around and could not see his pursuer. He arranged his shirt as best he could with all its opened buttons, while refastening his belt. He stopped running as he noticed a small group of boys at the other end of the parking lot. As quickly as he could, without seeming to be in a hurry, he looked back to reassure himself that he was not being pursued, and gave out as big breath. Too bad he could not at the moment fully enjoy the experience of what almost had culminated in a wondrously approaching orgasm. And for a split second wondered just how it would have felt like to have put that man's penis into his own hand, or better yet, into his own mouth. But his worry of being pursued and detained was enough to drive those thoughts from his mind and force him to entertain other thoughts involving his actual survival. He presumed he was in the clear but just in case he decided to mingle with several boys who were apparently lingering near the corner of the parking lot. They looked at him strangely but never approached. Zack was surprised to see boys of several different nationalities apparently mixing and speaking with each other. And a couple he could see with really frowzy old clothes, while others were barely clothed at all. And some with clothes that were certainly way too tight. Zack couldn't stop himself from looking at their groin regions. Damn, he started even getting a boner again in spite of being so all consumingly frightened.

Now he finally allowed saner thoughts to circulate around inside his head. Maybe this entire outing was definitely NOT such a good idea after all. He decided that, as soon as he thought the coast was clear, he'd give up on the entire operation and speed on home. Hopefully, no one the wiser. He still could not stop feeling a slight bit of satisfaction, nonetheless, in spite of the terrifying ending of his outing. The man's hand on his own boner was so thrilling! He sighed wistfully, dreaming of a time and place where STD's were only fiction. (Wasn't it Europeans who actually brought venereal disease to the Americas? He decided to look that up when he got home).

So there he was, standing at the edge of a parking lot, next to a not quite reputable hotel, with a porn shop on one side and a coffee shop on the other. A parking lot which, unknown to Zack, was also a notorious pick-up spot for gay teens (or even straight teens) selling themselves to interested men who slowly passed the area in their fancy cars. Zack had stared at some of the antics of some of the boys who had been standing not 10 feet [3 m] away. He was trying to get up the nerve to move into the alley behind the porn shop, and wondered – quite naïvely – just how come some of the boys, a couple he surmised couldn't have been much older than himself, were getting into the momentarily stopped cars. He watched the process for almost five minutes before it suddenly occurred to him just what was going on. Dah! He turned bright red just imagining what these boys would be soon doing. And now that he understood, it was all too obvious. So much so that he started to panic as a car stopped at the curb not ten feet [3 m] from his own position.

"Oh shit!" Zack thought. "I bet that guy thinks I'm a rent boy."

Zack started looking around for an avenue of escape just in case. He was then suddenly surprised to note that the other eight kids which had been there just moments ago had literally vanished. "Shit, what was going on?"

Now he saw a guy get out of the car and approach him. Zack was welded to the spot in fear. Well, he'd just tell the guy that he had the wrong notion. Or whatever. But as the man approached he too looked around and laughed almost to himself, but spoke aloud: "Damn, I guess they can spot a cop almost by smell."

Zack was now both relieved and then frightened all over again. The relief was mirrored in his smile, and his fear turned it right off. The man – in 'plain clothes'? – approached and spoke.

"Fuck kid, you can't be more than 12 or 13. I swear you kids are getting younger and younger."

Zack looked at the guy with a mixture of absolute terror and mild curiosity. But still unable to move or speak.

The guy smiled, or almost smiled. He pulled out his shield. "Just stay where you are kid. I'm the police."

Zack was relieved that this was now for sure a cop, but just as quickly feared that he was going to be arrested. How would he ever explain this to his parents?

"You… You're the police?"

The guy, Detective Terrence O'Malley, could see the small boy before him shivering. "Fuck," he thought to himself, "Probably new at this."

He hated the very thought of that pervert who had demanded a favor in return for his cooperation, but he figured that desperate situations demanded desperate solutions. This time the fucking degenerate had demanded that he show his bona fides by delivering to him a small white boy – one of the many boy prostitutes already selling themselves on the streets, usually in an effort to just survive. A young white blond teen to be precise. And this kid was the first one who hadn't run, recognizing him to be a cop.

"New at this huh kid?" The cop asked.

Zack now realized that his greatest fear was probably correct. The cop thought he was selling himself and he was going to be arrested. "No… no sir. Just waiting for the bus."

"At the 'boy stop' ?" The 'boy stop' was the name given on the streets for this infamous pick up area.

"No sir." Zack didn't understand the reference used.

The cop realized that the kid seemed about to pass out from fright. Hell, probably his first time. Shit, how many more 'throw aways' would be tossed or forced by unlivable circumstance onto the streets?

But it was good for him; the boy was exactly as requested, as Mr. Beauregard Black had requested. The recent conversation was still able to make the old guard cop pause. He had deliberately sought out the old pedophile because it was rumored that he still had a pulse on what was happening in the 'boy market' even if it made the old cop cringe. But he couldn't save everyone. He looked at this particular boy. Perhaps, after this was over, he'd at least be able to save this one boy – but later. Right now he was damned determined that this new market in human trafficking would be stopped as soon as possible, and for this he needed an 'in.' Mr. Beau (as he preferred to be called) had a reputation which could give him instant entree into the world of boy lovers. Mr. Beau was also a registered sex offender. He had been convicted of holding a 13 year old boy for almost a full year as a sex slave. He liked them young and white, and just at the cusp of pubescence.

Mr. Beau was now a wealthy recluse who had not only inherited great wealth, but had also significantly increased it by being a near genius at computer trading. His reputation as a sex offender barely made a dent into his chosen life, but it did cause him to now refrain from engaging in his favorite activity, not only having sex with under aged teens, but treating them as slaves. The only reason that he had gotten out of prison in just five years was that the boy he had held as a slave between his 13th and 14th birthdays refused to testify even under all the pressure exerted by both the legal community and the boy's foster parents. Although they presented the argument that the boy was suffering from the Stockholm syndrome, the defense cleverly used the boy as a witness for the defense and he was so convincing that at least a couple jurors would not convict on all charges. The boy had even cried when his former master and lover had been taken away, the man's last whispered words still in his memory. "Boy, never for a moment believe that you are responsible for what is happening to me. Find yourself another to love."

Over the past several years, since Mr. Beau had been released from prison, he had actually cooperated with the FBI and other agencies in their efforts to stop the worst of pedophiles. Though many people questioned his motives, this Mr. Beau had definitely been helpful in a several previous investigations. But in spite of deciding to enlist Mr. Beau's help one more time, it did not mean that Detective O'Malley had to like dealing with the old pervert. Even if his first glimpse of him was certainly a surprise. The guy certainly did not look 42. More like 32. And black as coal with almost stereotypical Negroid features. In fact the detective thought he could almost be considered ugly even though there was some kind of alluring presence about the man which was difficult to define. He was certainly well assured and well educated. If O'Malley had not known any better,… Well, just the idea of dealing with the reprobate was distasteful. He'd much rather deal with the usual street scum; or better yet, put a dent into the man's smug smile. Parts of the recent interview spilled through the detective's mind.

"Look officer, I must…"

"It's detective."

"Sorry. Detective. But this new bunch is not the usual element I have socialized with in the past. My so-called credentials, as you call them, would have little to no effect in this situation. They only deal in certainty. I must prove myself first. Sorry detective, I must decline. As much as I deplore this spoilization of beautiful boys, the undertaking would simply be too dangerous and too problematical. I have, however, a lead for you on that guy in Arizona if you want. His handle is MexMan8, and I can give you his IP address. And please don't ask me how I found out. He ruins boys, so please take him out of circulation. But right now, that's all I can do for you."

O'Malley was surprised that this Mr. Beau had even known about the FBI's interest in this Arizona case which had already turned up two molested preteen kids. One, the son of a very important government official. He thought it miraculous that the boys were actually found alive. The perpetrator had taken the precaution of actually gluing their eyes shut. (Several weeks later, after the FBI had been able to track down the perpetrator with Mr. Beau's help, it would be discovered that the man had actually known both boys. But that is another story).

And even if this creep showed a willingness to help in that case, it did not help with his own task force.

"Look, Mr. Black…'

The black man smiled and interrupted: "Call me Mr. Beau, please…, detective."

"Look, Mr. Beau, (he almost choked on addressing this man with any real civility or familiarity) this case has been going nowhere. And one of the boys, the one from this very city, has been found dead. This guy or group is selling boys not just for sex but for torture. Look at this photo."

Mr. Beau blanched (figuratively speaking) at the sight. He gave out a small gasp before his usual rigid self control could be reestablished. He stood and walked about the opulent room. He walked up to a vivid photo of the one person in his life he had ever truly loved, besides his mother. The boy in the photo was the very same white boy who had refused to testify against him more than seven years before. The boy was currently attending Princeton on a full scholarship, one that, unknown to the boy, had been provided by a foundation funded in large part by this very Mr. Beau. Mr. Beau made sure that the tear starting to drop from his right eye would not be seen by the intruding detective. He walked to the adjoining bar, poured himself a good sized portion of his favorite Tawny port, and returned with his usual composure. He made a decision at that moment which even surprised himself. Prison could not help but change a person, but he was surprised that at least a portion of that change was to be more introspective, and more understanding of what love might actually be all about after a period of time being in a place so totally bereft of it.

"Very well. I will try to help. You do understand though that I might not be successful. My reputation, of which you have reminded me of several times already, will not proceed me with this vicious group. Or at least it will be no more than a mere knock on their door."

O'Malley didn't know whether to be happy or chagrined. This meant that he would have continuing dealings with this reprehensible person. In his mind this Mr. Beau should have never been released from prison. It was a shame, he figured, that that boy had been too frightened to testify against his molester and kidnapper.

"Good, I'll communicate with Captain Burroughs and let him know. We can provide you with several possible contacts but we have to admit that these might very well be of no help. None of them actually know any of the principles."

They hammered out at least the very beginnings of a campaign which they thought could possibly work. Together, with the FBI, an agent from which would be out the very next day, Mr. Beau would be furnished with as much support as they deemed necessary. And to give as much additional information that they had on this group. Mr. Beau only felt slightly guilty as he made one further request.

"But Detective O'Malley. I will certainly be putting my own life in jeopardy. I want a favor in return."

A skeptical detective groaned his displeasure but simply replied: "What?"

"As you know I have been without any, shall we say, pleasure of a boy's welcome company for almost seven years. I can not be seen picking up a boy off the streets. There can't even be the ghost of suspicion. But you can. I want one day with one of the boy prostitutes that are plying their trade in Boy's Town [the area of the city well known for its gay population] right as we speak. It will be no different if it is myself or someone else." And he played a trump card as he figured that this request was sure to be turned down otherwise. "And you also have my word that I will not expose a certain high ranking police official for his own indiscretion with a 15 year old Oriental girl."

The threat hit home. Mr. Black could see that this detective DID know of whom he was speaking. Now it was O'Malley's turn to pace the room. After some verbal sparring he finally relented.

That was just last evening. Now he was about to break the law himself. The small white boy looked to be about 12 or 13 years old. He merely took hold of the boy's shoulder and directed him to the awaiting unmarked police car. He put the boy into the front passenger seat, another rule breaker. But what the hell. All he said to the boy was simply: "Get in boy. We both know why you are standing here, and it isn't for any bus."

The terrified boy was too frightened and too startled to either balk or even object. His voice hit a high octave. "How did you know? I promise never to do it again. I promise."

The cop was almost ready to bring the boy to where he lived, or better yet to Child Protective Services and to tell Mr. Black to fuck off. But he seemed to drive to the north suburbs in spite of his grave misgivings. Hell, the boy would probably have been in some other pervert's car soon enough. At least he was quite sure that whatever else this Mr. Black was, he would not seriously damage the boy. He hoped. He made numerous rationalizations about what he was doing along the way. After all, he'd not been above breaking other laws when the situation demanded.

After an uncomfortable silence, the thoroughly frightened boy asked; "Sir, are you arresting me?"

The cop glanced over and after looking carefully, he realized that the boy was at least a couple years older than he had first suspected. Maybe even 14. But damn! What the hell WAS he doing? He salved his own conscience by telling himself about all the boys he WAS trying to save.

"You know kid, I could do just that. But just shut up for now. This is your lucky day." After a pause he asked: "How old are you anyways?"

Zack was surprised at the question. If anything he expected questions about his sneaking into the back door of the porn shop. "Fifteen sir, almost sixteen." (The 'almost 16' was a lie).

"No shit? You look 13, 14 at most. You have parents who know what you're doing?"

Zack absolutely did not want him to be taken to his parents. He'd be grounded until he was out of college. "No. … no sir. I'm on my own." It was technically not a lie if taken literally. Zack was suddenly relieved. Maybe he'd get out of this mess after all.

"Where we going?" He was barely able to ask. He was too afraid of the wrong answer.

The detective looked briefly at the terrified boy: "Just taking a side trip. I need to take you to see someone. Then later I'll drive you wherever you want to go. Ok with you kid?"

Zack was ready to agree with almost anything. Just so he could beat his parents home. Which was still at least six or maybe seven hours away.

"OK," he barely managed.

The remainder of the twenty minute trip to Mr. Black's estate was done in total silence. Except for the usual traffic noises. Zack would have started getting anxious again if the guy had not shown him his detective's badge. Several times he'd almost asked why they were going to some guy's house but he was too scared. He did not want to make waves. Zack was never very assertive on his best of days.

But he was curious, and totally amazed as they entered through big iron gates and pulled up to an honest to goodness mansion. Ok, maybe not that big, but the grounds were extensive.

The detective did not want to even see the boy in the hands of the pervert he knew was inside. But he figured that if not with this Mr. Beau, he would no doubt allow himself to be molested by some other man for money. Detective O'Malley salved his conscience by a promise to himself to try to help the kid later.

"Ok kid. It's been all arranged. I don't even want to know any details. The guy wanting you is inside. Just do as he says and I'll be back for you at six sharp and I will take you wherever you want. You understand?"

Zack did in fact NOT understand. But he was too frightened and too non-assertive to ask any questions. It was like this most of his life. He found it much easier just to go along with the others. At least to a point. It had to be really important to cause him to act differently. But right now he just wanted to 'save' himself. And hell, how much trouble could he get into at the huge estate of someone who was apparently on good terms with the police?

"Yes sir. Six sharp."

Zack walked to the front door not even knowing the name of the person inside. Just that for some strange reason he wanted to talk to him. And by each step it was starting to dawn on him that this entire thing made absolutely no sense. Unless…

The terrible thought had come to him in a moment of intuition but was just as readily dismissed. Hell, the guy was a cop for God's sake. He COULDN'T have brought him here for THAT reason. Could he? And Zack wondered just why the idea got him much more excited than scared.

Zack looked back and watched the cop's car drive off, and just then realized that he didn't really have to knock on the door after all. He could simply sneak away. Hell, the cop never even got more of his name than Zack. He was just about to bolt when the door opened and a big black man answered, and then smiled real big.

"Ah, and who might you be little man?"

To Zack, the guy was magnificent. For some reason he never did understand, he was very attracted to both blacks and Orientals. And this guy was sure black. And inviting. His entire demeanor seemed to radiate command and authority. Another real 'turn on' which Zack had not yet recognized as sexual in nature. But his own penis was being totally traitorous. He tried to push it down surreptitiously as the imposing man took him by the shoulder and led him into the house. And wow was it as magnificent as the man himself. He was led into a big library type room but with soft chairs at one end next to an unlit fireplace. There were drinks on a try on a beautiful table. The guy was obviously expecting him. It was getting really mysterious and Zack started again wondering if he had in fact been mistaken for one of the rent boys he had been standing with. And in spite of his fear, he was also thrilled. He suddenly started wondering just what this guy's black genitals looked like. On the Internet sites he frequented he liked looking at the really big black penises of the black guys. And their hanging scrotums. He was really turned on by those dangling ones. Zack was glad to be offered a seat so that he could better hide his growing erection.

"Well, it would seem that Detective O'Malley was good at his word. You are simply delightful. What's your name boy?"

"Zack." It came out as a screech. Zack was almost as frightened as he was excited.

"And how old are you?"

"Fifteen." For some reason he found himself incapable of lying to this man.

Mr. Beau was a bit surprised until he started really looking and examining the boy's features. This Zack was probably truthful. But just quite undeveloped for his age. And just about perfect. Mr. Beau couldn't wait until he saw the boy naked and was fondling the boy's little boy genitals. He was also starting to wonder if the boy could even have a wet orgasm. He was certainly going to find out. He was also happy to note that the boy did not smell, too often a problem with street boys. But then he noted that the boy's clothing was quite clean and even new looking. And seeing how the boy was reacting he started to wonder just how experienced he was. Usually by now the boy should have been giving him all kinds of signals. Then he had a thought. A very disquieting one.

"I need to ask boy. Just how did Detective O'Malley find you?"

"I thought I got arrested. I tried to sneak into a porn shop and was caught. I promise never to do that again. What I don't understand is what I'm doing here."

Mr. Beau was flabbergasted. "Holy fucking shit!"

The boy cowed at this outburst.

And then Mr. Beau was dismayed. He stood and looked down at the boy, and seeing the boy's frightened expression stated: "Don't worry boy. You will be OK. It's just that idiot of a detective. Exactly where were you picked up boy?"

"I don't know the exact address sir. Just on –––––––– Avenue. Next to ––––––––––-." Then for some reason Zack experienced a jolt of confidence he rarely experienced. "I think a mistake was made. There were several other kids there who seemed to disappear as the cop car showed up. I didn't know it was a cop 'til he showed me his badge. But I think there's been a mistake."

As bold as he now felt, Zack still could not make himself say anything about rent boys or boy prostitutes.

"So you were not there looking to be picked up were you boy?"

The black man laughed sardonically. His one big chance, and he'd gotten so unbelievably hard just looking at this particular boy. A boy so perfect.

The boy haltingly explained with continued prodding "Sorry sir. But I was just trying to stop from being caught. I tried to sneak into the porn shop there."

Over the next hour both boy and man retired to the kitchen, shared a delivered pizza, and surprisingly had a conversation interesting to both of them. The man discovered that the boy was gay – hell he'd admitted wanting to sneak into a 100% gay porn house – was afraid to let anyone know, was totally frightened that is parents would discover what he'd been trying to do today, and that he was good at school, and while somewhat athletic, never did very well at sports because of his size.

"Heck Mister Beau," a now smiling boy replied, "I've finally just started growing. I barely weigh 90 pounds [40 kg] soaking wet."

Now that the boy had opened up, his engaging smile, and total innocence, his quick mind, and OK his beautiful little boy white blond body, totally engaged Mr. Black's interest. And he was also delighted to see that the boy seemed to be genuinely attracted to him. He even admitted that he 'liked' black people. Of course it was quite uncommon that a boy Zack's age would really be interested in having sex with anyone appreciably older – except without other enticements. Mister Black was starting to have at least a tiny hope. Maybe he could seduce the boy after all.

And now that this Mr. Beau had talked about himself, Zack was not scared of him any more. He even told him that he'd get him a ride anywhere he needed to go whenever he decided to go. Of course he was quite shocked when Mr. Black, or Mr. Beau as he asked to be called, said he'd been in prison.

"Yes boy." He liked to call him boy rather than Zack. "Detective O'Malley wants me to help the police catch a bunch of guys who are kidnapping boys like yourself and selling them as sex slaves."

Mr. Beau deliberately mentioned slavery just to see the boy's reaction. He was absolutely delighted to see the boy rearranging his hardened penis while talking about that topic. He kept talking about sex slaves and how the boy's were treated and was very happy to see the boy's continued sexual reaction. Maybe the boy was unaware of it himself, but he was apparently quite the submissive. Mr. Beau was quite adept of asking the necessary questions and observing a boy's reactions to them. Definitely, little Zack was almost certainly a true sub. Maybe his seduction would be as easy as commanding him to take off his clothes. Of course he'd have to be very careful. When Zack left, as was a certainty, he'd be going home to the security of his family and anything too much to the boy's detriment and he'd find himself right back in prison. A prospect he truly intended to avoid even if it meant NOT having sex with this boy after all. And certainly there could be no anal penetration. He sighed. Too bad. He was certainly going to make Detective O'Malley bring him another boy with whom he COULD have anal sex with. But right now, a bird in hand…

Zack was opening up. He looked at this weird man and started sighing to himself. Too bad he wouldn't even see a naked penis after all. Maybe… Oh well. It was just a fleeting and unrealistic fantasy.

"What were you in prison for?" The question had been all but invited.

"Well boy. I am a registered sex offender. It's why I can help the police. I know all kinds of pedophiles. I'm one myself."

Mr. Black was very careful to note the boy's reaction.

"Wow." That was about all Zack could say. His parents would have been apoplectic. Talking with one of those 'perverts.' But the very idea, instead of repulsing him, was totally exciting. And heck. He should have realized. After all he had been brought there to have sex with the guy. And now… But Zack was totally unable to initiate any possible advance in this direction even though he started fantasizing about having sex with this man. Even the idea that he was so much older didn't seem to bother him. Hell, he was quite attracted to him physically. He started imagining the guy forcing him out of his clothes and even being tied up on a bed somewhere. (Of course a bed – Zack wanted to be 'comfortable' in spite of being forced into having sex).

Zack laughed at what he considered a very unrealistic idea of being 'forced into sex.' He wasn't totally naïve. (Or so he thought). Well, many things were relative.

Zack hadn't realized he had laughed aloud. The conversation went back and forth and covered a myriad of topics but was always steered back to sex, and then to Mr. Beau's specific brand of man-boy sex, as much as he dared. He was carefully watching the boy's reactions. He looked up at the clock as decided to take what he now considered only a slight gamble.

"OK boy. You know that I like boys. Especially cute white boys. We have talked about men who want sex with boys rather than other men. How would you like to actually experience at least what it would feel like? I promise to do nothing to you that you would be afraid to do."

Zack so wanted to say yes but he seemed totally frozen, but Mr. Beau took this as a good sign. As submissive as this boy seemed, he would have been surprised at any overt response.

"Boy, stand up." He said this in as authoritative manner as he could without trying to frighten the boy. At least not enough to think about bolting. He deliberately put his hand onto the boy's thigh and repeated the command.

"Stand up boy."

Zack, almost as if his body was responding on its own volition, stood. And he threw an instant boner which he started being acutely embarrassed about. But a thrill surged through his entire body, and especially his genitals, as he looked at the very black, very commanding man.

"Good boy. Now you have exactly 20 seconds to take off every stitch of your clothing. Right now boy!"

Zack started complying before he could think about the full consequences. His boner was now as stiff as he'd ever experienced. And even the fact that he was totally embarrassed to show himself naked in front a stranger, his anticipation of having sex dispelled all other thought. He adamantly refused to let himself think of any possible 'bad' consequences. As if mesmerized, Zack quickly took off entirely every stitch of his clothing. He soon was totally naked, with a now dripping penis sticking out straight in front of him. He looked down at himself and was amazed at how turned on he was by all this. He thought that at the slightest touch he would instantly erupt. His four inch [10 cm] circumcised penis was a steel rod. The feelings spreading from his groin were amazing. His thoughts totally controlled by his unrestrained libido.

The man was totally delighted. Too bad he could not imprison this boy as he had his last slave boy. Of course that one boy was only too willing to get away from a severely dysfunctional and abusive family situation. If having a contemptuous foster father and a drug addicted foster mother could be called a family at the best of times. He so wanted this boy but made sure that he proceeded very carefully. He wanted the boy to leave believing that the entire happening had been mostly his own idea. The boy was his perfect. Innocent, horny, intelligent, horny, submissive, horny, and infinitely cute. The blond hair, bright blue eyes, and slightly tanned skin was exactly as his fantasies always imagined his slave boys. And the boy seemed to have no idea of his extreme beauty. Now to see the rest of him.

Mr. Beau's own eight inches [20 cm] was straining his pants. He sighed audibly realizing that he'd really better not try any anal penetration. He sometimes wished he was not quite so well endowed. This boy was almost certainly an anal virgin. The last thing he wanted was to actually harm the boy. Hurt him was totally OK. Maybe he'd even see if the boy could go for say a light spanking. But harming him was another thing altogether. Especially in his current situation. He groaned at the prospect of never having a boy slave gain. Well, he would enjoy what he could get. Who really was certain of the future?

He looked at what he considered a perfect example of desirable boy. His own libido climbed to almost uncontrollable heights as the boy quite nervously undressed. The boy removed his shirt revealing a typical barely pubescent boy's musculature. The boy had just started forming a bit of muscle and though quite slim, was definitely not skinny. There was some flesh covering the ribs and the points of his hips, and there was the barest suggestion of definition in his musculature. His light blond looks only added to his beauty. Maybe not beautiful to most, but to Mr. Beau, exactly as he liked his boys. Then the boy pulled off his shoes and socks and then his pants. He seemed to suddenly go timid as he stood (shivering) in his tighty whities.

Mt. Beau prodded: "Boy, naked means just that. Discard the Fruit of the Looms!"

Zack felt himself frozen. He wanted so much to stand naked before this man but suddenly his spurt of bravery left him. He appealed with mute eyes.

Mr. Beau gently tugged with a finger at each side and gradually pulled down the boy's underpants making sure there was not the slightest resistance. (The only resistance came from the boy's jutting penis). He was quite pleased as the boy stood totally submissive.

The boy's penis and testicles were nearly hairless but definitely showing the first signs of puberty. His scrotum was still tightly wrinkled against his groin and his circumcised penis, about 4 inches [10 cm] long and perhaps just more than an inch [2½ cm] through, quite beautifully formed. He couldn't wait to inspect the boy's butt hole.

"Good boy. You would make a perfectly great slave boy." He delighted seeing the boy's smile. "Now let's go somewhere more comfortable."

With that he simply picked up the totally passive naked boy into his arms and literally marched up the stairs and into his bedroom. Mr. Beau delighted in the stark contrast of the boy's pale white skin against his own quite black. The boy squirmed a bit but his continued smile – amid moans of obvious arousal – indicated it was more a sexual response than anything else. The boy clearly wanted happening what was happening.

Zack was totally in the grip of his own arousal. And was quite content to just let things happen. Even more than his wildest dreams he anticipated not only seeing a naked man but feeling the man's hands and body next to his own. He was now in such a sexual thrall that all possibility of misgiving thoughts had not the slightest ability to enter his mind. Even the vague thought of STD's or AIDS barely made a dent into his consciousness. He felt the man's strong arms engulf him and could feel the man's stiff penis jutting against his own naked bottom. He was then tossed unceremoniously onto a king sized bed, and he watched in total rapture as the man quickly divested himself of his own clothes. Wow. He'd never seen a man so black. Hell, he'd never even seen a totally naked black man except on the Internet. And wow was the guy striking looking. His body was perfect. He seemed to be moderately muscled but not with the horrible disfigurement of a body builder. Zack had seen several bodies like this before on the Internet and had drooled over it on his high definition screen.

Guys who so appealed to him filled a special secret file on his computer and several were on posters adorning his bedroom walls. One such was that boxer, Manny Pacquiao, from the Philippines. The guy's poster was right next to that of Freddy Adu, a soccer player whose looks had an even greater appeal to the boy. And some woman athlete, whose name he didn't even know, appeared prominently on one wall just to even things out and so not to alarm his arch conservative (and what he considered 'religi-holic') parents.

And holy shit the guys penis was a monster. He was suddenly afraid.

Mr. Beau noted the small change in the boy's expression. "Don't worry boy. I said nothing that could harm you. And nothing that you did not agree to. Don't be worried. Understand?"

Zack barely nodded. He sort of felt like he was in a dream. A wonderful dream. But he seemed not able to actually DO anything other than just let this man do with him as he wanted. And the idea that he was going to be molested made him think of that as a good word.

The man made a wicked smile and added: "But you WILL obey me explicitly."

Mr. Beau was happy that he read the boy correctly. That was not actually what he'd promised but it had the required effect. And he could also see the sexual response of his command. The boy was so far a natural sub. He quickly finished undressing almost ripping off his socks and shirt. (He had freed his straining penis first). He liked the look the boy gave his equipment. He had always liked how well endowed he was but it did cause problems. He usually had to work hard at opening his boys up enough so not to damage them. Of course for them to experience a little pain was their role. His one true love even enjoyed his light floggings after he'd gotten used to them. And of course the amazing sex afterwards. And Beau had not been a selfish master. His boys were always allowed their own pleasure, so long it was at the deliberate will of their master and they realized that it was a reward and not to be understood as their just deserts. In fact, he'd deliberately kept his one slave boy totally without relief for as much as 7 to 10 days on occasion just so the boy realized that he was a slave. But he had eventually allowed himself to get careless. Sigh! But that was long past. And could not be changed.

Right now he had the perfect boy in front of him. Or actually below him. And in his total control. He was absolutely turned on by not just the boy's size and form, but even more important to him was the boy's apparent submission. That to him was the major turn on. To demand total control and to get it. He demanded of his slaves total and absolute submission. Mr. Beau lay down directly on top of the boy and started rubbing the boy's his entire body with his own.

As the man lay down on him Zack almost exploded on first contact. It was so unbelievable! Something he'd never experienced before. Another naked body touching his! But then the man took hold of his penis and Zack could no longer contain himself. He exploded with several strong spasms even if there were almost nothing actually being expelled. It was the greatest orgasm of his short sexual life. Nothing before had ever come even close.

Mr. Beau felt the boy's spasming tremors underneath him. He smiled. Obviously the boy had never before had such intimate sexual contact. He was also confident that within the next hour or so he would again have the boy experience an even greater climax. Now he could take his time and prepare the boy for his journey into man-boy sex. Slave-master style. He wondered where he put that heavy but very soft rope. But he realized too late that he too had gone too long without such intimate contact. He decided to just allow it to happen. And he himself erupted as his own penis rubbed along the legs and groin area of the boy under him. Spurt after spurt exploded and he felt an orgasm of an intensity barely remembered.

"Too long. Definitely too long." He muttered.

As he separated with the nearly comatose boy he looked down at the slick goo that had been plastered between their bodies. He decided to test the boy's responses.

He started rubbing the boys chest and finally got his attention. It was such a shame. This boy would have been so perfect. Even now he just lay there awaiting things to happen. A true submissive.

"Now boy a few rules. Very strict rules. If you understand reply with: 'Yes master'."

A now severely intent and aroused boy replied: "Yes master."

Mr. Beau could see that just the idea of being told to address him as master re-engaged the boy's sexual response. Even this soon after what had to have been a large climax on the boy's part, he was again starting to stiffen up. Beau started fondling the boys genitals and the boy again squirmed at the intrusion but he automatically open apart his legs inviting further manipulation. This almost automatic response was also indicative of the boy's submissive personality. And when he couldn't resist touching the boy's crack and moving his finger onto the boy's very anal opening, the boy merely gasped but made absolutely no move to avoid the contact. In fact the boy started a slight trembling at the continued intimate touch. The boy was once again in the throws of extreme sexual desire.

"Now boy, you like that don't you."

They boy forced his attention back to the man's words; he nodded, and only replied vocally with a barely audible: "Oh yeah."

"Boy, right now I am your master. You are my sex slave. You will respond appropriately."

The boy replied; "Yes master. I am your slave boy."

Mr. Beau was absolutely delighted at the declaration. For a second or two he even entertained the possibility of actually locking the boy away. But sighed as he realized the impossibility of that notion.

After fondling the boy for some time and arousing himself back into full erection he decided to slow things down and see just how much of a slave he could make of this boy even if for only an afternoon.

"Now boy listen. For right now I am your master and you are my slave. You understand boy?"

The boy, now more serious, answered in the affirmative. "Yes master."

Zack was suddenly wondering just what the man (or rather his master) intended. But he decided that up to actual anal penetration he'd be perfectly willing. And it was only the fear of being ripped open did he decide not to allow the latter. He now wished he'd actually opened himself with the set of butt plugs he'd bought over the Internet. But he'd stopped after just one aborted and unfortunately painful attempt to put the smallest one into his own rectum.

"Good boy. Through that door is the bathroom. I want you to go into that room, wet down a small hand towel with hot water, wring it out, and bring it back along with two bath towels."

Soon Mr. Beau was directing his boy in the cleaning up of both their bodies. Zack was a bit hesitant form touching the man's intimate parts and especially his butt crack but a stern command elicited a renewed effort.

Soon Mr. Beau had his boy steadying himself on all fours as first his fingers and then his mouth and tongue explored the boy's most intimate boy parts. When he engulfed the boy's entire penis the boy yelped but nonetheless stayed stationary as commanded. Even when the man started licking the boy's pink anal ring, the boy merely started shaking and moaning. And dripping a tiny drop of pre-cum. But it was the attempted invasion of the boy's rectum by the man's lubricated finger which elicited the first negative response.

Zack shook his head. "Please don't hurt me."

"Boy, tell me again. Who is the master?"

A trembling boy replied: "You are master."

"And who is the slave?"

"I am master."

"And so who must obey?'

"I must master."

"Good. Unless you experience actual pain, you are to remain steady as I stick my finger into you. Your boy hole, for this moment, is my property. Understand boy?"

"Yes master."

At the next invasion the boy tried to hold still but he reflexively tightened his sphincter muscles.

"Now boy, you will actually like this but you must try to relax. You mentioned seeing guys doing this on the Internet. Now cooperate. Pretend you are taking a dump."

"Yes master."

This time there was success. The man pushed his finger slowly inside savoring not just the feeling but his taking possession of his boy's most intimate hole. But he decided that for not he'd just explore the boy's anal opening. He had no intention of pushing the boy too fast. But soon the boy was totally incapable of staying upright and collapsed while moaning and shivering on top of his master. The man persisted and with his other hand manipulated the boy's testicles, stopping his attack momentarily as the boy's testicles started retreating upwards. Again and again the man stopped as the boy got nearer and nearer to climax. Finally it was inevitable and the boy actually screamed and bucked wildly at the astounding intensity of his second orgasm.

The man was totally delighted at the boy's reaction and allowed the boy several moments to recover. Now was going to be a possibly difficult passage for the boy. Without being in the throws of strong sexual need or passion, he was going to have his boy suck his own large member to orgasm and see if he could get this important submissive action from the boy. If the boy was ever to be controlled as a true submissive slave, he would need to be thoroughly trained to perform on his master no matter what he is experiencing at the time being totally intent on obeying his master simply because his master willed it of him. Eventually a trained slave would never even question his master's motives nor question his master's decisions even as to allowing or not allowing his slave's own sexual release.

Why he was thinking still in terms of actually training this boy as his slave, he was not fully able to explain logically. Perhaps it was merely wishful thinking. Everyone thought that his previous slave's response was the result of some Stockholm syndrome. Or if not that, at least some kind of major coercion. Nothing could have been further from the truth. That boy too was a natural submissive and with a good half year's training, was only too happy to obey his master. Well so far as it pertained to the kind of sex relationship they had. He had been quite the typical teen in other ways. Besides he was certain the boy understood the genuine affection he started feeling for the boy. And the boy reciprocated. Actually that is not entirely correct. Mr. Black realized that he should be as honest as he could with himself. No, it was the boy who first came to find love for Mr. Black, and then it was he who was surprised when he found himself reciprocating. At first the relationship was one of needs on both their parts. His, to have total control of a submissive slave boy, and yes, for sex, and the boy's need for even the smallest amount of affection and security. An affection and security not experienced by the boy for some years. He had been a run away from a corrupt and uncaring foster system and fortunately he had found the boy before the streets had ground him to dust. It was while in prison where Mr. Beauregard Black came to recognize the very basic selfish nature of most of his actions. And it was the true love for this former slave that had awakened within him a sense of responsibility. That was in reality why he had been now helping the police. A motive which he realized he would never convince a jaded and thoroughly unsympathetic police force.

But only if he could find another boy. To command, to control, and yes enslave. And to love. His wistful dream faded as his passion again took control. He would at least have his one afternoon with this beautiful boy. He walked into his closet and finally located the rope he thought he remembered being there. And then that wide belt with the series of attached rings hoping that it would be small enough. He got the big scissors and finally returned. The boy was sitting up and staring at him and at what he held. The boy was just staring but not even asking a question.

"Boy, how do you feel?"

"Wow… I mean master, …" And he smiled, "that was totally out of this world. I was frightened at first. I was so afraid that you were going to push into my butt hole. When I tried to use a plug before, even the little one, it hurt too much. But this was awesome. Thank you… master."

Telling was the fact that the boy never even asked what the rope and scissors were for. Just awaiting events. This was already a trust rarely encountered nor achieved until well into a slave-master relationship. He was starting to think that this boy could be made into an actual slave. Not just one for having scenes, or even for just several years. But a life long affair. In prison he realized that with the right slave, he could able to even depart from his usual desire for a young teen and allow the relationship to grow into a more lasting one. If only…

"Look boy. Since you have been a very good slave, I have decided to reward you. How would you like to be tied up?"

He decided that for this next step he needed to be sure of total cooperation and desire on the part of the boy. The boy was definitely turned on by the entire situation. But as he approached, he could now see a subtle change in the boy's reactions.

Zack suddenly experienced a moment of reality. What the heck was he DOING? This was simply crazy. After all the things he'd heard about safe sex and body fluids, not to mention what other crazy things this guy was talking about. And seemed about to do. In spite of the entire slave thing so turning him on, the real consequences and dangers of what was happening were finally making him rethink about giving in to his sexual lusts.

"Sorry mister, but… I mean, what did you want to do? There's stuff I don't…, I mean… there's things I'm too scared to try. I mean, well,… safe sex and all. Please…"

Mr. Beau realized that this was a total novice, and totally inexperienced and of course very rightly frightened at what he envisioned could happen to him. He so wanted to explore additional sexual delights with this boy, but he realized that not only did he want a totally willing boy, he also wanted to make sure the boy was not forced into anything which would make him fail to enjoy the experience. And of course he did not want the boy to experience anything negative in connection to what was happening. He had to be careful to lead the boy on with just the right amount of seduction and reward. And he would have to remove any remnant of the boy's real fear if he were going to be able to actually seduce the boy further into this sex scene. Mr. Beau was a master manipulator and he proceeded very methodically.

"Look boy. First of all, I too do not wish to do any thing that would be unsafe for either of us. I realize that you haven't been prepared for all of this. We can stop right now… OR… we can continue and I promise that any time that you want to stop we will do exactly that. And I promise… I know that I have no diseases, but I know you can't be sure of that. So no fluid exchange." Well at least for the time being he thought to himself.

The boy was still wary. But his rising libido and the fact that somehow he found himself actually trusting this strange man, a man who REALLY was attractive to him sexually, allowed him to let his passions rule.

"OK. But anytime I say, things stop?"

"Absolutely boy. I find you so precious, I would never imagine hurting you. And I won't make you do anything you don't want to do." But while he said these things he was also trying to figure out just how he could later persuade this boy into returning. Of course he considered himself a master at manipulation and seduction. It also meant that he had to do nothing that would harm any trust the boy was starting to form. He would have to use all caution.

"Look boy, I would like to tie you up. You mentioned some of the things that really got you so hard from those Internet sites. You need to trust me boy that not only will you not be harmed, but I am a master as stimulating another to wild orgasm."

The boy lay back again in the typical passive posture of what Mr. Beau regarded as a true sub, even if the boy did not fully understand that aspect of his sexual response. He first took the belt and easily lifting the boy's mid-section, he slid it under the boy's waist. And then buckled it in the front. (Even thought the belt was designed to buckle in the back). The boy was so small and slim that the belt barely fit properly even on the very last set of notches where the three tines fit into their respective holes.

He looked up at the boy's face and could see that the boy was already totally into what was happening. The boy's penis was standing up quite rigid and the boy was even moaning a bit and he had barely started. He next tied the thick soft rope about the boy's thin wrists and repositioning the boy a bit downward in the bed, pulling each arm upwards and tieing off each rope to their respective corner posts. Then two more pieces were attached to rings on each side of the belt and their other ends brought down and attached to the respective bottom posts. Now he knew he had to be careful not to be too overly aggressive. He gradually pulled the bottom ropes tighter and tighter first pulling the boy's body taught, and then forcing some strain on the boy's upper body as he was further stretched. He very carefully watched the boy's reactions. But all so far were those subtle throat noises and a few squirmings and attempts to pull on his arms. Tighter and tighter he pulled until he was certain there was considerable strain on the boy's arms. But the boy merely grunted and as he lightly touched the boy's chest and then moved his hand lower over the boy's so beautifully smooth pale skin towards his groin, the boy squirmed quite a bit, moving his head back and forth but only moaned a bit louder. The boy's penis was again fully erected and a drop of moisture formed at the very tip of the boy's piss slit.

Mr. Beau chanced one last small pull and tied off each of the bottom ropes. The boy's upper torso was quite taught and his arms taking a significant strain. By this time the boy was squirming all about in the extreme thrall of mounting passion. The boy was quite turned on by this moderate bondage. Mr. Beau chanced licking at the moisture forming at the end of that luscious small white boy penis. The boy squealed and instinctively pushed his groin upward.

By this time Mr. Beau was quite thrilled as the very young boy now seemed to be on a hair trigger. But he wanted to make sure that the boy would not have another orgasm before his rigid penis was in his own mouth. He smiled, also reflecting that he himself was quickly mounting towards his own pending climax. And he was also still hoping, in spite of what he stated to the boy, that he could persuade this boy to use his mouth on his own erection. And his own strong arousal was starting to interfere momentarily with his own seeming lack of concern for consequences.

"Now boy,…" he had to shake the boy who now totally within the grip of his own immense sexual arousal, "listen."

The boy looked up and croaked out: "Yeah?"

"Slave. I am going to pull each foot towards the top of the bed and tie each off on the corner of the post. It will put a strain on your knees so let me know if I pull too tight. It will help if you keep each leg slightly bent."

The boy nodded. "Sure… I mean yes master."

The boy was still into the entire scene. Mr. Beau quickly accomplished what he had described and the boy responded quite well, only moaning several times and yelling as his legs felt a good strain. The process in fact forced the boy's butt to lift upwards, as intended, to give easy access to the boy's most intimate recesses and cute small tight pink butt hole. Mr. Beau was quite aroused as he looked towards the small rose bud with its short radiating creases. It positively invited one to explore deeper into its far interior. He sighed as he forced himself to admit that he so wanted to immediately plunge his now dripping and hugely engorged 8 inch [20 cm] penis into this boy's fuck hole. Well, he could at least dream.

"Now slave. You doing OK?"

"Ahh huh."

Mr. Beau decided this was not the time to reinforce the command that boy call him master.

The boy was low squirming all around as Mr. Beau's hands started exploring the smooth skin of the boy's body, getting closer and closer to the boy's genitals and perineum. The boy was now moaning loudly. Mr. Beau continued his ministrations coveting his boy's body with his roaming hands. He had not had this much pleasure in so many years he made sure that he would take his time. For the next five minutes the tableau was basically unchanged with the exception that his hands made their way onto the boy's genitals. At every touch the boy groaned louder and even yelped. But Mr. Beau had to be careful since he realized that the boy was almost on the very brink of another orgasm. He took the boy's small testicles and pulled them downward, a method which would usually help delay any immanent climax. The boy yelped lightly as he felt the heavy pull on his quite sensitive balls. But Mr. Beau was pleased that the boy made absolutely no real protest. After several more minutes, he started to dance his fingers around the boy's rear pucker and even pushed slightly inward. The boy screamed again and bucked on the bed at this so intimate touch. But again there was no true protest.

Mr. Beau decided to take a chance as he continued to touch the body of his boy which was pulling quite hard on his bonds as he was almost bouncing his small body all over as far as his bounds would allow. The boy was making a series of sounds which were possibly words but were quite garbled amid his moans, squeals, and occasional scream. Mr. Beau wet a finger and started to very gradually push tit into the boy's tight puckered sphincter. The boy yelped and pulled his butt upward as far as his bonds allowed.

The boy finally spoke in mild alarm. "Oh my god! Ahhh. Mr. Beau what you doing?"

He quickly started lightly handling the boy's genitals in part to distract the boy's attention. "Slave. I promise not to hurt you. Did that hurt?"

"Ahh. No. But it's stretching a whole lot. But no. Please don't hurt me."

"Look boy, you need to trust me. And just say the word and I will stop whatever I am doing. So you still Ok boy?"

"Yeah. I guess so. I never knew it could feel so intense."

Mr. Beau continued. The process again repeated itself several times as he pushed his finger inward a fraction of an inch [2½ cm] at a time. The boy continued to squirm and thrash about as Mr. Beau withdrew his finger and started tonguing the boy's nether regions gradually aiming for the boy's pucker. Then as he started to lathe the boy's hole and even push slightly inside the boy with his tongue. The boy squealed quite loudly but made no attempt to pull away. The boy was at the brink. Mr. Beau again gradually reinserted his wet finger into the now wildly thrashing youth. With one arm and hand now holding the boy down, and a finger pushing into the boy's tight hole, he totally engulfed the boy's entire penis in his mouth. He thrust his finger deeper and started massaging the boy's prostate as he firmly sucked on the boy's entire penis. Only seconds later the boy convulsed wildly thrusting his groin upward. Spasm after spasm racked the boy's body amid loud noises somewhere between screams and groans. A stream of thin liquid spurted out of the boy's still immature genitals and were greedily consumed. But even after the several strong spurts ceased, spasm after spasm still caused the buy to thrust upward, eliciting even louder screams.

Suddenly the boy seemed to collapse amid a drawn out high pitched moan. Mr. Beau savored the taste and feel of his boy. But he knew just how sensitive the small penis would be so he forced himself to stop his oral attack and also removed his finger. He looked at the boy's face and noted that he had been on the very brink of passing out.

Mr. Beau quickly released the ropes holding the boy's legs and released the tension on his upper torso also. He next lifted the now nearly comatose boy upwards and placed him onto his own lap.

"OK boy?"

Zack quickly came back to the real world as his climax abated. Never, absolutely NEVER did he ever imagine it could have felt to intense. That was a hundred times better than ever before! Even if he didn't actually want to think too much on just what this man did with his butt hole. He was basking in his own feelings when he was brought back to the here and now by the release of his legs and then the tension on the belt about his slim waist. He also realized that his arms and other parts of him were a bit sore. That belt had been pulled really tight and he started flexing his limbs to stop the slight ache. But as he watched this so totally black man he stared in amazement at the guy's HUGE erection. He had been so totally wrapped up in his own feelings that he was now finally taking in the man's body. He was quite trim, not flabby like his own Dad. (He tried to block out the image of his Dad's own penis which he remembered seeing on their last camping trip). So he concentrated on this man who had…, had molested him. He decided that he sure LIKED being molested! An incongruous thought made his laugh aloud. No wonder molesting was said to be so 'bad'. After a boy was molested he'd want it to happen all the time!

But he was again brought back from his whirling thoughts when Mr. Beau so effortlessly picked his up off the bed and sat him on his own lap. Wow. The guy's absolutely coal black and humongous penis was pushing into his butt crack. A sudden fear cursed through him and he yelled out: "NO! You promised not to hurt me!"

The man's arms tightened almost ruthlessly about his squirming body.

"Listen! Zack. LISTEN!"

Zack quieted down.

"Look boy, I promised not to hurt you. I will keep that promise. What are you yelling about?"

Zack was still a bit scared. He knew that guys liked to push their cocks into the butt holes of other guys. He saw that on the Internet and it really turned him on. But he also knew that it could really hurt, and besides it wasn't safe.

"You're not going to use my butt hole?"

"Definitely not boy." ('At least not today boy,' Mr. Beau temporized to himself). "I'm just going to push it along your butt crack."

Zack calmed down and let his body just enjoy the tight embrace and full body contact of this man. Wow, he was even getting hard again. And he realized that this Mr. Beau was started to make his own sounds as he started thrusting his penis upward into the boy's butt crack and between his legs. Zack was again in the grip of a sexual arousal. Quite soon the man's penis erupted. Zack remembered those scenes on the Internet but thought that Mr. Beau broke all records as spurt after spurt erupted upwards, one even hitting him in the face. And he felt Mr. Beau grip him so absolutely tight as he quaked under his small body literally lifting him upwards again and again. Finally Mr. Beau himself seemed to collapse in his partly sitting position against the head board of the bed. There was quite a strong odor of spunk all over. Zack remembered that guys sometimes actually licked up the stuff but a slight revulsion, together with a small fear of HIV, brought those thoughts to a total halt.

Finally Mr. Beau roused and used some of the bedding to wipe the worst of the cum off of the boy's body.

"How are you feeling boy?"

Zack was now suffering a slight guilt as he realized what had just occurred. But he had long ago come to the realization that gay sex, in itself, was no more wrong than straight sex. The Bible thumpers could shove it. His own parents could shove it. And truth be told, his absolutely only misgiving about everything that happened was his still small fear of ATD's and HIV. But he kept reassuring himself Mr. Beau promised that he was totally clean. And he made himself believe it.

And so Zack concentrated on the absolutely amazing sex.

They spoke about all they had done as Mr. Beau brought Zack into his large shower and cleaned both himself and his boy. By the time they had finally cleaned up and dried themselves off both were feeling the after glow of their intimacy.

Of course Zack was a typical teen, and it was then when Zack discovered that he was 'monster' hungry. They both dressed, laughing at almost everything they said and did.

Mr. Beau was quite amazed at the way this boy really turned him on. And at the intensity of his own orgasm (or orgasms) the like of which he had not felt in years. But he also realized that there was a minor undercurrent of worry in his new boy. One which he realized he had to squelch totally before any real additional future 'fun' could continue.

In their discussions Zack had talked about his family. He actually liked his parents and even his older brother and younger sister. His only concern was their rabid fanatical Fundamentalism concerning religion and sexual morality. And especially their totally hatred of 'perverted homos'. Zack also talked about school – he did really quite well – but also bemoaned the fact that he seemed not to have very few real friends. Well maybe Xiong and even his sister Qaio. Although truth be told they saw each other mostly at school or on school related functions. He even confided that Qaio was his 'pretend' girlfriend, and the only one who actually knew of his secret.

Mr. Beau talked about his own life. Being raised by parents who for all practical purposes totally ignored him in their quest for the good life. Nothing actually deliberate, and they were even good to him, when they interacted, which just didn't happen all that much. They did get rich but Mr. Beau never did have an intimate home life. And when his parents died in a car crash…

"Look Zack. I'd really like to be your friend. Even without the sex part if that is what you decide."

And Mr. Beau was almost surprised to realize that he hadn't even lied. Though he was certainly determined to have a whole lot more sex with this quite naïve boy if at all possible. He salved his own conscience by deciding to make sure this boy had everything he needed to succeed in life. Heck, he was sending one kid through college already. Of course, there was that other thought always right there. If only he could somehow manage to convince this boy to act as (or be?) his slave. (Even if on an occasional basis). And again there were those 'other' thoughts which included the dungeon he had in the basement of his house. (Even if it needed a good cleaning). He wondered how Zack would react just seeing the place. Sigh!

Zack smiled. 'Mr. Beau, can I come back again?' Zack only THOUGHT those words. He did not seem to have the courage to actually express then aloud.

What he did say was: "Mr. Beau, I really would like you to be my friend." Heck, he had just told this Mr. Beau things he'd not told anyone. And further heck, most of the stuff most people would not even care about. Or care too much about, like his being gay. But he sure wished he could do all kinds of sex stuff. If only he could be absolutely certain…

Mr. Beau seemed to have read his mind. "Look Zack. I've been out of prison for about two years. In fact this is the first sex I've had with anyone in that entire time. And you can be absolutely sure that I have no diseases. In prison and even afterwards I have been repeatedly tested to make absolutely sure. And if it would make you feel better I could have myself tested again."

Zack was starting to believe him. For some reason his fears seemed to really vanish. They talked about it some more and it was even decided that Zack would come back the next weekend. If Zack could arrange to get away again.

It was getting late. Almost 4 PM.

Zack was appalled: "Holy shit, their sex-capades lasted over three hours!"

Of course Zack never would have imagined that some of the 'sessions' that Mr. Beau had had with his one slave boy had sometimes lasted entire days. Zack mentioned that he absolutely had to be home by 6:30 to make absolutely sure he would beat his parents and his sister. His older brother was at a friend's house for the entire weekend. Mr. Beau conducted his new boy right to his driveway, making a detour at a handy McDonalds. (That pizza was nothing for a growing boy).

As Mr. Beau's BMW made its way back up the street, Zack trembled thinking about the enormous changes his life had suddenly been subjected to in just one short day. And later, it was a good thing that his parents were nor quite that perceptive, as Zack could not contain brandishing his enormous smile over the next several days.

Chapter 2
Mr. Ben Gets His Boy

Little Adulio again meekly submitted to Mr. Ben's manipulation and handling of his totally naked body, reveling in the sensual pleasure as the man's large hands roamed over his smooth light brown skin.

Over the past year they had gradually progressed from mere touching, caressing, and kissing, to full fledged molestation of the boy's amazingly cute boy body. In spite of the boy's unbounded energy, and energetic enthusiasm in almost everything, he was quite a naturally passive lover. He seemed to derive great delight and passion while allowing his small body being totally controlled by his 'master.' (The word master is in quotes since at this time Adulio regarded it as role playing during their great sex times). He remembered how they gradually made much more of a 'game' of pretending to be master and slave especially when it came to sex. In fact Adulio found himself quite excited as their games progressed into outright physical control and even periods of physical restraint. Aduilo for some reason found himself quite excited when physically bound by ropes, leather straps, and even metal cuffs and shackles during their periods of 'play.' He even delighted in the feel of his leather collar – fastened to his neck by his 'master' only a few weeks ago. (Of course, now with school out, he didn't have to worry about others seeing him he felt free to wear it even when he was not being used as his Mr. Ben's 'sex slave.') Wow, just the idea of those words gave Adulio a visceral thrill. And he was discovering that especially recently his small almost 4 inch [10 cm] light brown penis was so frequently (and sometimes embarrassingly) stiff, even when Mr. Ben was not fondling it. To think that he had been so scared thinking about how he would react to being used by Mr. Ben for sex. Wow, was he surprised to discover he so LIKED it. Well most of it. That seven week period when Mr. Ben was putting ever larger plugs right into his small boy butt hole was difficult at times. He knew that Mr. Ben was intending to eventually stretch him enough so that Mr. Ben could put his big penis right into him. At first the very idea of someone doing that just about frightened him to death. Now he even liked it, especially when Mr. Ben also fondled his own erect peepee at the same time. (It was still hard to think of his own peepee as a penis).

Thus right now, even though he remained mostly passive in the hands of his 'master,' he could not help wiggling quite a bit as the man's hands made their usual intimate contact with his naked flesh especially in the area of his most private boy parts. And it was especially stimulating when Mr. Ben's hands came in contact with the plug which was being held into his butt hole by that new belt and strap arrangement. Though his butt hole had been sufficiently opened up months ago, his Mr. Ben just recently decided to make him keep a small butt plug in his hole almost all the time. Even just pushing or pulling on that plug sent waves of special 'sex' feeling through his small boy body. To some observer it would appear that the boy was in fact struggling to escape from the man's tight embrace and flagrant molestation of his body, but nothing could be further from the truth. Adulio especially liked it when the man's hand occasionally fondled his small brown genitals even though it elicited some high pitched squeals and an occasional verbal protest. He also liked it when the man's finger invaded his so very sensitive poop hole. And of course more recently when that plug was being manipulated.

As he sat on his 'master's' lap, Adulio could feel the man's stiffening penis under his own naked butt as it seemed to struggle to get out of its tight confinement. He knew that quite soon that very stiff member would be 'forced' first into his own mouth, and then up into his own small butt hole. He always pretended to resist the inevitable. Though he 'fought' his 'master' with surprising strength and apparent determination to avoid his fate, his small 65 pound [30 kg] body with its meager boy muscles was absolutely no match for Mr. Ben's quite well maintained musculature. Adulio actually liked the struggle which would soon take place as he was literally manhandled into position and forced to do all those (wonderfully) sexy things with his 'master.'

Adulio realized that his Mr. Ben was more than 20 years older than his own Papa (who was 35 and actually his step-dad) but he was continually amazed by the man's hard body. Of course, unknown to Adulio, that hard body had been maintained by more than just hours in his own private gym. Frequent visits by his doctor, who was administering appropriate medication, helped to keep those muscles bulked up. Mr. Ben was quite aware of the many benefits of modern medicine. To Adulio, all he knew was that he thought his Mr. Ben was even sexier looking than his own step-dad, or a lot of other older men. Of course it was his relationship with his Mr. Ben which really excited him at least as much as the flesh on flesh contact. Sure, definitely LIKED how Mr. Ben used him for sex. And he even enjoyed the make believe times when his Mr. Ben pretended that he was his 'sex slave.' But even more so, he liked how Mr. Ben treated him outside his very private bedroom. He was even allowed to ride his favorite horse on the extensive grounds. How many boys had their own horse to ride? And then there were also those special trips which Mr. Ben took him on.

As he helped his 'master' out of his clothes, Adulio was also wondering what special thing his Mr. Ben said he had planned for his 'special slave boy' afterwards. He was quite looking forward to his imminent sex romp with his 'master' and to that surprise afterwards. He knew it had something to do with some bondage gear which he had been specially measured for several weeks before. But his Mr. Ben was being mysterious about it all. And Mr. Ben also said they'd be going to a very special friend's house later in the day. To think that it was a long year ago when his special relationship with Mr. Ben all started.

One Year Earlier

And so it was a little over a year ago when Adulio had come up with his plan to get help for his sister when which led to he and Mr. Ben having their sex games. Though only eleven years old at the time, Adulio knew enough to understand that his sister was very sick, and needed what they called a bone marrow donor. But there was no one on the list – whatever that was – so they had to look elsewhere. And that took a LOT of money his family didn't have. But Mr. Ben was VERY RICH. His family needed help and Adulio had recently figured out how to get it. Maybe.

Like all the people who had been at Mr. Ben's estate Adulio had eventually heard about the 'vicious' rumors concerning Mr. Ben and his 'liking boys,' and in spite of his young years, he even understood just what was meant by this euphemism. Adulio was very computer competent, and the Internet was the 'information highway.' Even though his parents could not afford a computer, he had no trouble sneaking into Mr. Ben's den to make use of one, one with no parental controls. And it was right after he discovered Mr. Ben's special files, also on that same computer, when he started believing those rumors. And Adulio came to a sudden understanding about just what all those touches on his butt and peepee had been all about. He had been quite confused and even frightened at first since he had trouble figuring out why people talked about what Mr. Ben had been doing to him as something really bad. Heck, Mr. Ben would never really hurt him and besides, he LIKED all those intimate touches.

Adulio thought about all these things for several days when suddenly he had connected several ideas in his head and something clicked. He decided that he didn't care if other grown ups thought that the things his Mr. Ben did were so bad. He didn't care and as he thought about helping his Mama and sister he formulated his plan. The more he thought about it the more determined he became. His family (his Mama and especially his little sister – he still couldn't think of his step-dad as family), and especially his little sister whom his Mama dotted on, needed help. The kind of help which took a lot of money. And Mr. Ben, his Mama's employer, had a whole lot of money.

Adulio, after having seen Mr. Ben's special files, and having looked things up on the Internet, was starting to understand just what was happening during all those times that Mr. Ben showed him 'special attention.' He revisited those moments of touching and feeling and connected the dots. But instead of being repulsed by the idea of his Mr. Ben touching him so intimately, he was trying to figure a way to make Mr. Ben to even go further – much further. For a couple days Adulio had been getting up the courage to implement his plan. And after going through Mr. Ben's special files again and it was that one photo especially which inspired Adulio's step one. It was two days later when he got his opportunity.

"Mr. Ben," Adulio had just changed the game in the X-Box and detoured a bit to pick up a sheet of paper that he had secreted. He presented it to Mr. Ben. "Mr. Ben, this looks like me. You like boys like me?"

Mr. Ben Boywright looked at the proffered picture and was momentarily speechless. This was quickly followed with barely suppressed panic.

"'Dulito, where'd you get that picture?"

It showed the quite naked body of a small boned boy of Spanish ethnicity. A very cute and perfectly proportioned boy, about 10 or 11 years old, four and a half feet tall [1.40 m] , perhaps 65 to 70 pounds [30 to 32 kg], was in that perfect stage between little boy and teen. The face topped with slightly wavy black hair, and lit up with startlingly green eyes. These same eyes looking down at his erect 3 inch [7½ cm] penis, a slightly darker brown than his otherwise golden brown skin, the brown head of which was barely peeking beyond the foreskin.

And except for the green eyes, the boy in the photo was remarkably similar to Adulio.

"From you laptop. I printed it out. Looks like me. 'A course my peepee is bigger."

Adulio's heart was racing almost as fast as Mr. Ben's. He got a bit scared seeing Mr. Ben's reaction but he only backed off a couple steps. This was too important. He only barely flinched when Mr. Ben reached over and took the picture from him.

Mr. Ben was somewhat mollified as he noted Adulio's last statement. "Your peepee is bigger?" Mr. Ben asked.

The boy smiled with the visible change in Mr. Ben's expression. "Way bigger. Want to see?"

Mr. Ben was trying to figure out what was happening. At least the needle in his panic meter dropped considerably. He made a decision, which was partly determined by his rising libido.

"Sure 'Dulito. Show me."

Mr. Ben forgot all about why or even consequences as he watched the infinitely cute Adulio quickly divest himself of his clothing. As he watched the now shaking boy pull down his white briefs, Mr. Ben's pulse quickened as the rigid small cocklet sprung loose. And yes, it was bigger than that of the boy in the picture. Even disregarding the small portion of foreskin which still covered the head it was quite long – about 4 inches [10 cm] – considering its immature stage of development. The wrinkled dark brown pouch attached underneath contained two small testicles just large enough to show separate orbs.

"You're cuter than the boy in that picture." Mr. Ben replied. And taking advantage of the situation, pulled young Adulio close to him, and added: "You know that you can't tell anyone about this."

Adulio got a serious look on his own face as he felt his small body pulled close to Mr. Ben's own. "'A course. Mama would kill me. And I wouldn't want to get you in trouble either. You think I'm cute?"

"Oh 'Dulito. You can not possibly know."

Mr. Ben shrugged off thoughts of the near calamitous result of the last time he'd been bedding a boy as he fantasized about taking full possession of this newer edition of this most arousing near perfect sex plaything. OK, perhaps he had done a bit more than merely 'bedding' him, but quite a lot of what he'd 'done to' his boy had never actually been made public. Besides, the boy never objected once he'd been trained properly. At that last thought Mr. Ben smiled. Of course it is difficult to object, at least verbally, when one is properly gagged and muzzled.

The object of Mr. Ben's former near calamity, a boy named Tad Michaels, had not quite understood the serious consequences of his confiding with his best friend about the great fun and special 'sex games' he played with his special adult friend. Fortunately the very unusual nature of that boy, who happened to actually like those special 'games,' together with Mr. Ben's immense wealth, came to the rescue. But for now, thoughts of what could have happened almost 10 years before, was at least momentarily keeping Mr. Ben's libido in check, and 'Dulito's cute naked small framed boy body, along with its delectable love holes, unravaged.

That former case concerning the 'alleged' sexual abuse and pedophilic molestation of one Tad Michaels never went to trial. Unable to obtain a True Bill from the Grand Jury, for an indictment against a person as powerful and as well respected as Mr. Ben Boywright, the DA had no alternative than to try to convince a Superior Court Judge at an old fashioned preliminary hearing of the man's felonious conduct. He had especially wanted to avoid, as much as possible, allowing Mr. Boywright's team of expensive (and quite able) lawyers from knowing the full extent of his case. But now he had to at least present a prima facia case – or enough to bind the defendant over. The subsequent preliminary evidentiary hearing taxed everyone and became one of the DA's most infamous 'bungles.' Even the press had been surprised when the DA's 'slam dunk' had turned into such a fiasco.

Ten years earlier

But enough money had been spread about, and enough people had been 'bought,' especially the boy's case workers, so that his legal team believed that either all or most of the counts that had been brought against their client would be 'most likely' un-provable. Of course the big question mark concerned the BOY himself. A boy with whom Mr. Ben had formed a true bond of affection. But who can tell what may have happened in the year since the boy had been subject to all the pressures which the full force of 'the law' can bring to bear. A boy with whom he had been unable to communicate for that entire time, and to whom his lawyers had only been able to gain very indirect access through several layers of county officials. social workers, and legal bureaucracy. And the boy's officially obtained 'transcripts' were a masterfully edited version which could have been construed with totally opposite meanings.

What Mr. Boywright or his team of lawyers did not know was that the DA was just a bit worried himself. There seemed to be a last minute lack of cooperation by the boy's case workers, and the amazingly difficult time given to him by the boy victim himself. But using earlier affidavits, and the testimony of the police, a doctor, and several county 'expert witnesses,' together with a unabashedly biased judge, the case had finally been brought to court for its preliminary hearing.

"Hear Ye, Hear Ye, all rise… (etc. etc). The Honorable Von Schief now presiding."

The DA, assuming his normal smug demeanor, surprised no one when several months before he had announced that he was trying this case himself. He, along with an ADA who was handling documents and another in charge of last minute prepping of witnesses, and who would help conduct the voir dir of prospective jurors at the later trial were also at hand.

But by day two the hearing was not going well for the DA. Witnesses were seemingly no longer cooperating. Much of the testimony he had been assured to be forthcoming, did not come. In fact, if it were not for the police and social worker who had retrieved the boy and questioned him immediately after his rescue, and the medical personnel who had examined and questioned the boy soon thereafter, he would have very little case at all. And now, with the defense having expertly whittled away at those witnesses along with much of his case, there had opened up some serious questions. Even the judge started looking at him as if… Thus, in spite of all his gut telling him not to, he had decided to put the boy himself onto the stand.

From the point of view of the former 'victim' – one Tad Michaels

I was quietly crying. It was precisely this kind of thing that I was so not good at – no, not crying. I was real good at that. I mean standing up for myself against the pressure of facing other people. But this time I had Motivation. (Yes, with a capital M). Everyone was staring at me. And no. I am not paranoid. Everyone WAS staring at me. I looked to my right. Mr. Boywright, at the defendant's table, was also staring. His expression, as usual, gave nothing away as to what he might be thinking. But I knew it quite well. And inside, he was quite a different person then most people saw on the outside. To most people who knew him, all they saw was a cold uncaring wheeler and dealer. Or more precisely, a retired Wall Street broker who got filthy rich and was either lucky enough or smart enough to get out of the market himself before the bottom had dropped out of everything.

Just behind him sat my 'beloved' foster parents. My 'Dad' had his usual furious face on – at least usual whenever he saw me, his very wayward son, whom he had very recently assessed to be irredeemable. My 'Mom' had this look of 'why me?' I almost cried harder when the thought came to me that the 'why me' would just about totally blot out any chance of thinking 'why my son.' To her way of thinking I CHOOSE to be the way I was and so deserved all the bad things which happened to me as a consequence. Of course they stopped having any true feelings for me when they had found out their foster son was not only one of those perverts, but had refused to 'cooperate' after Mr. Ben had been arrested. DAMN! Why did I have to be so stupid and tell my best friend – not even that really close – just how great a time I had been having with my new 'friend.' I thought he'd at least understand since he was the only other boy who I knew to be like me – liking boys instead of girls. If I had only known, and now I'd screwed up everybody's lives including my own.

I looked around and caught a glimpse of a person I really did not know but whom I dearly hated. Well maybe not the guy himself, but surely what he had done to me. And of course all the other authority people who make a pretense of 'helping' but had not the slightest real care. I had finally gotten foster parents almost two years ago and thought that I would be finally escaping 'the system.' Almost everyone in it had their own agenda. The rare person who really cared about us kids never lasted long in 'the system' themselves. I know there were exceptions, but the 'parents' I got turned out to care more about irrelevant moral judgments and the money they got from the state than people. Or kids.

I knelt on my chair to get a better look. There he was way in the back, Dr. Melville, the guy I hated and whom I was soon going to put center stage so to speak. Or I surely hoped. For once in my short life I was determined not to screw up something which was so important. Even if it was only important to me. He had already related to the court about how he had determined that I had been molested and forcibly raped over an extended period of time. But later, one of the defense lawyers had the doctor and his testimony so twisted out of shape that it seemed even the judge I think started to wonder. He had asked how come the victim himself refused to admit to the alleged molestation or rape and later insisted that he had only been 'abusing' himself. (It seemed to make me out to be either a pervert or a deluded victim).

The prosecutor, DA Beltner, was also staring at me, and almost brutally swung me about. Then I was paraded up to take the stand. Some flunky asked me to raise my hand and swear to tell the truth. And so already I got off to a good start. Or a bad one depending on your point of view.

I answered as clearly as my shaking voice would allow. "No, I do not."

A few gasps were punctuated by the sound of an old fashioned gavel and the judge addressing me quite sternly.

"I will not have a mockery in my court. I instruct you that you are required to affirm that you will answer as truthfully as possible."

A bit of words were then bandied about by the respective counsels and the judge, all of whom seemed to be ignoring me. No one even though to ask me why I refused to swear even if no Bible was in sight. I was instructed that even without my affirmation I was bound by a legal oath to speak the truth. Or suffer consequences. I could see that the judge was truly perplexed at my appearance of non-cooperation. I looked at Mr. Ben who was now smiling slightly.

Eventually the DA addressed the court: "Your Honor, I would like permission to treat Tad Michaels as a hostile witness."

Then there was a lot more controversy about whether I, the actual victim in the case, even could be deemed a 'hostile' witness.

And damn right I was hostile! But as far as leading someone into a line of answers with a conclusion that he thought he was going to get, I was determined to turn the tables. I was so pissed off at the entire world right now I simply did not care about the consequences. What else could they do? My life certainly couldn't get any worse.

By now I was a 16 year old boy, and just 14 when Mr. Ben had come into my life. You would think that my parents would be happy that I had been 'rescued.' Hell no. For the past seven weeks I had been held almost as a prisoner at some Bible thumping – your bound to hell if you don't change your ways – Ex-Gay Camp. My 'parents' told me that this was my very last chance. I saw it as their very last attempt to indoctrinate me into their self-serving religion. They called it a camp but in fact it was just a plain building converted from a small private school into its newest incarnation as a place where parents sent their kids to help them quit their life of sin. Although there were druggies, thieves, and other manner of teen sinner there, by far the greatest population came from those whom Satan had tempted into a life of sexual sin. Those like me who had 'chosen' to be one of the most reviled of all sinners – the homosexual.

After many weeks of argument, recrimination, and histrionics, my parents finally gave me only several options, and I chose this Ex-Gay thing as the least of all the other evils. I needed a time to think and plan. And I even enjoyed bandying words with the Rev. Goodspeed and his fellow cronies. And besides, I finally realized that compared to many of the other poor kids there, I was better off than most of them. A great advantage was not actually believe all that crap they were dishing out. Many others there were not so fortunate. I truly believed that several of the unfortunate kids were either headed for a nervous breakdown, or worse. There were rumors that one of the kids several months before had even committed suicide. And for the first time I was now starting to understand how come gay kids were so more apt to commit suicide that straight ones. They unfortunately believed all the religion crap that their parents and society had brainwashed into them, and then had absolutely nothing to fall back on when their families and even their religion turns against them. Well, I admit I was not the most secure or emotionally stable kid around, but damn, at least I knew bullshit when I smelled it.

I now looked at the judge as he made his ruling. Especially when he then spoke to me.

"Young man, you are directed by this court to answer Mr. Beltner's questions as directly and concisely as possible."

I guess the judge knew about my complete refusal to cooperate with the prosecution of Mr. Boywright. I stated my name and answered several 'get acquainted' questions.

I then answered the last question directed at me quite concisely.

"No."

Both DA Beltner, and the judge seemed to gape at my last response.

The prosecutor, Mr. Beltner had asked me if he could call me Tad. I suspect he was not expecting so much hostility right from the get go.

"Your name is Tad, is it not?" He was persistent if not too bright.

"No."

The DA gave a big sigh, more for the effect, and addressed the judge. "Your honor, could you please direct the witness to answer the questions truthfully?"

Both the judge and the prosecutor looked at me as if I was the one being tried.

"Master Tad Michaels, you are directed to answer the questions truthfully or you will be held in contempt."

When I didn't respond other than to stare at the judge he continued. "Do you understand?"

I still remained quiet.

The judge glared at me with hate filled eyes. No doubt he was another of the hate-filled Christians who liked to believe that 'loving the sinner' included all manner of hateful actions toward them.

"You are directed to answer the court."

"Your Honor. I mean no disrespect. But my name is not Tad. It is Thaddeus Michaels. And I answered Mr. Beltner's question as directly and concisely as possible. I told him that he could not call me Tad. It would imply that there was at least some camaraderie between us. And there is not."

There were a few murmurs from the audience. My Dad was glaring daggers as was his usual countenance ever since more than a year ago when he found out that I had 'chosen to follow the devil to perdition.'

The prosecutor continued. I was for once in my life determined to not cave in to the pressures of authority. And besides, I was determined to have some fun. I surely needed it after the past couple of months, with the pressures being brought to bear at that anti-gay camp.

"Very well, Master Michaels. The jury has already heard enough testimony to flesh out the trials you had been subjected to over the course of your abduction, incarceration, and heinous treatment at the hands of this child molester. I just want some conformation."

After an objection by the defense council, the words 'child molester' were 'taken back' as if the jurors could pretend they never heard them.

I sat there staring. And quiet.

"Is it not true that you were abducted?" He was allowed to ask leading questions since I was declared a hostile witness.

"Absolutely."

He visibly relaxed and even smiled at my vehemence.

"And you were held captive against your will."

"Yes."

I said with enough anger to even wake up Mrs. Dangerfield, one of the social workers who had been my case worker.

"And while you were held captive, you were molested?"

"Definitely. Even when I pleaded for him not to."

The prosecutor's smile increased.

"And he raped you?"

"Yes. I tried to stop him but he strapped me down. I struggled, but I was helpless."

I was showing true emotion. I couldn't help it. I never was good at hiding how I felt. I felt so embarrassed at times when I would cry at the slightest crescendo of emotion. But now it was real anger which motivated me.

I continued: "It didn't matter how much I pleaded. How much I cried. He said that he had to do it. And then he stuck his… that… that thing… right into my butt hole. I felt so violated."

Mr. Beltner was as happy as I was angry.

"And is this person seated in the court today?"

He looked over at the defendant's table right at Mr. Boywright.

"He sure is."

I was not only angry at what had been done to me, I was determined to have a bit of revenge.

"And Master Tad Michaels, would you please point this person out to the court for the record?"

He finagled that name 'Tad' in there after all. I stood, and with a fury which even surprised myself, I shouted out.

"There his is." I pointed. "Right there. That's the bas… the guy… the guy who molested and raped me."

The prosecutor and the judge, and even especially Mr. Boywright's lawyers were all perplexed. I certainly was not pointing towards the defendant. Instead, I was pointing to a guy who had previously testified and was now seated towards the back of the room.

The prosecutor was quite mystified. And the judge was angry. He addressed me.

"Master Tad Michaels, you will not make a mockery of this court. I will either have a reasonable explanation for your actions, or I will hold you in contempt."

"Your Honor. I have done the very best to cooperate and answer as truthfully as possible. I have absolutely no desire to make a mockery of anything. I was held against my will. I was brought into a small room. I was put onto a table thing. And when I tried to escape, I was then strapped down so that I could barely move. In fact there were several others there who were complicit in my abduction and rape. But they are not here in this court right now. But the guy who did the actual rape is."

The judge was now a bit surprised and even perplexed. "You mean there was more than one person involved?"

"Yes your Honor."

"But if this is true, why have you been so uncooperative? Why did you not report this?"

"But your Honor. No one would listen. I tried. But no one would do anything."

The DA now spoke up. "Your Honor. The boy is obviously lying. There is absolutely no record of any previous statement on his part implicating anyone at all. Not even the defendant, Mr. Boywright. He has been totally uncooperative."

I started smiling. I couldn't have arranged it any better. The judge finally asked.

"Just who did you point out? And if this person aided and abetted in your abduction and consequent rape, why have you not spoken up before now?"

"Your Honor. I DID speak up, but no one would do anything. And it was the cops who helped. But they are not here right now. But Dr. Melville IS. It was he who raped me. And this big orderly and two cops helped strap me down so he could do it."

There was quite a commotion. And there was quite a lot more than a murmur. Even Mrs. Dangerfield was paying rapt attention. My Mom was looking back at Dr. Melville with a very worried expression. My Dad just looked at me like always. Communicating his assumption that whatever had occurred I was the one at fault. The DA was apoplectic. Mr. Boywright fully smiled for the very first time that I noticed. His lawyer seemed almost as perplexed as most of the onlookers. I looked at Mr. Boywright and I smiled too, I guess he knew me better than anyone else. I had been his occasional 'prisoner' for over six months. And he most definitely had molested and raped me many, many times, using many different objects in addition to his big erect phallus. And I absolutely loved every second of his ministrations, even at first when it hurt some. But it was the doctor at the hospital where I was taken who had really violated me as far as I was concerned. And he had the backing of the medical profession and apparently the law. I was totally helpless and without recourse. They were gathering evidence and I was being examined. They claimed that it was 'for my own good.' But as far as I could tell, this was the true rape and violation of my body. I looked up the legal definition of rape. As far as I was concerned the doctor RAPED me according to the law.

Dr. Melville acted as if he were the one somehow violated. The DA was pissed. And the judge was trying his best to get order. It took a while to quiet the murmuring around the courtroom to stop. I looked directly at Mr. Boywright and smiled for the second time that morning.

"Master Tad Michaels." The judge addressed me in a sonorous tone. "You will not make a mockery of this court. You are directed to answer the questions of the District Attorney without introducing nonsensical and irrelevant charges against others merely performing their civic duties. Another attempt to misdirect the questioning into irrelevant avenues will result in contempt of court."

He then looked at the DA and stated: "Mr. Beltner, you may proceed."

"Master Tad Michaels," the DA almost made my name a curse word, "I now direct my questions only concerning the actions attributed to the defendant, Mr. Boywright. And the court has directed that you are required to answer. Is it not true that the defendant, Mr. Boywright, held you captive, and repeatedly molested and raped you."

I simply but affirmatively replied: "No."

There was again a definite murmuring around the room.

The DA appealed to the judge: "Your honor, please direct the witness that he must answer truthfully and could be held not just in contempt but be charged with perjury."

The judge looked at me with all the scorn he could assemble. "Master Tad Michaels. Even though you are the victim here, you are still directed to answer as truthfully as you can. Unless you can adequately explain your answer, already refuted by evidence introduced into this court, I will not only hold you in contempt, but I will direct the District Attorney to bring charges against you for perjury. Do you understand me young man?"

"Yes your honor. I understand perfectly. My answer is still no. I was definitely not held captive by anyone other than the police, and later, some people from social services. And I submit there can be absolutely no evidence that would contradict this since it simply is not true. Mr. Boywright most definitely did not hold me against my will. The times I remained at his residence it was quite voluntarily. He was one of the very few people who actually cared about what was happening to me."

There was again a conference between the DA and then the judge, and then with them together with the defense council. Finally after a period of legal bickering the questioning continued.

The DA looked daggers at me. "Very well Master Tad Michaels. I only then have one more question. Is it not true that Mr. Boywright molested and raped you?"

I looked at Mr. Boywright, wondering how to answer. I definitely did not want to accuse him of anything, but what he did could most likely be understood as molestation and even rape considering the legal definitions of those words since I had been a minor and he an adult. But all of our activity was most definitely consensual. But I had one hope. I was quite glad now that Mr. Boywright had talked me into it.

I looked at the DA and trying not to have any tremor in my voice, regardless of how emotional and frightened I was, I replied: "Your honor. Do I have to answer that question?"

The DA smiled and the judge replied: "Yes, you do. And I most certainly direct you to do just that."

"But your honor, I thought that a person may not be forced to testify against his spouse."

Another furor erupted and a lot of questioning faces looked about the courtroom. The judge looked at me and spoke: "That only pertains to a man and wife."

I tried to keep the tremble out of my voice.

"But your honor. Mr. Boywright and I have entered into a legal and recognized civil partnership in the United Kingdom. It is my understanding that this civil partnership provides the legal consequences and protections of marriage. And I was also informed that the US recognizes, for the sake of testifying against the other, all civil partnerships legally entered into in the United Kingdom so long as both parties are also British citizens." (I was actually not totally sure of that last statement but I was hoping).

This last statement caused an ever greater furor. I could also see Mr. Boywright and his attorney conferring. They were both smiling. I was assuming that Mr. Boywright could produce legal documents to prove that we were indeed in a legal civil partnership under British law. In a country where 16 was the legal age of consent. And he could even show my citizenship papers – obtained through mostly legal channels when it was discovered that indeed I had been originally born in Britain and lived there until my parents came to the US. Too bad I could barely remember them. They died when I was just four years old. Of course Mr. Boywright was also a British citizen by birth.

After a whole lot of conferences and haggling among attorneys and the judge I was allowed to at least momentarily be dismissed from the witness chair. And the trial was continued until the next day. I was now wondering how Mr. Boywright could be prosecuted without my testimony. Of course so many people simple hated all gay people and all gay relationships. And the biggest problem was that for the first several months of our relationship we were definitely not 'civil unioned,' nor was I sixteen. But no medical findings could prove that anything illegal had actually occurred before I had turned 16.

Most ironically, I was indeed seduced by the inimitable Mr. Boywright. Though I have to admit it did not take a whole lot of effort on his part. I thoroughly enjoyed my seduction. My actual fear did not include Mr. Boywright at all. Only my parents and whether I could avoid being caught. But unfortunately I was caught. And this in turn led to all the rest of the problems being faced with my lover. Whose only real so-called crime was to protect me from a condemning society and especially my recriminating parents who could not accept the fact that their son – even if just a foster son – was gay.

The entire 'affair' had started almost a year before Mr. Boywright's arrest. Or if you even go back to when I realized that I was gay another year before that. (Yes, I was a late bloomer so to speak. I didn't sexually mature until I was almost 15). I got my new computer, along with its incorporated camera, for my 15th birthday, but it was several weeks before I was finally able to circumvent the 'parental controls' they put on it to stop what my parents conceived as 'illicit Internet forays into pornography.' But it was not necessarily the porn sites that I was so interested in. Although I sort of really liked those showing boys (both live and in art) in various manners of bondage, control, and of course forced sexual submission. But it was a certain chat group which led me astray so to speak. It all started out innocently enough. I was trying my best to hook up with other teens who had also found a deep attraction towards BDSM. (I did not especially like the ideas inherent in the SM part but the BD part gave me my most amazing boners). I think I must have put out questions in a dozen chat rooms before I finally got a reply that had me excited.

The important part of the conversation went like this:

Concernedguy12: "So you are interested in bondage scenes?"

Bondageboy15: "And more."

Concernedguy12: "How much more?"

Bondageboy15: "Not sure. Never really did anything. But if the right guy happened by."

Concernedguy12: "Do you know how to IM?"

Well that eventually led to not just talking to whoever this guy in a more private setting, but after a lot of help on his part, I even was able to download all I needed to go visual. The guy was pretty blunt. He said he was 46 years old and belonged to a club interested in BDSM with younger people – much younger. They always were on the lookout for good recruits.

"I have to be careful. You said that you are only 15 years old. I need you to prove this to me."

So I finally sat in front of the tiny camera on my computer and we eventually spoke with visual contact. It took only a bit of persuasion to get totally naked and jerk off. Eventually we set up a meeting at a local Barnes & Nobel in their coffee shop.

I was both thrilled and scared out of my wits. And damn I sat in that shop drinking coffee, which I enjoyed, for almost 20 minutes, which I hated, before the guy showed up. He explained that he had to be sure I was exactly 'as advertised.'

When the guy startled me by sitting at my table while my attention had been distracted elsewhere, he laughed.

"Well boy, you are quite a surprise."

"Huh? Surprise? How come?"

"Well kid, you are quite cute and not part of any sting. And most contacts are entirely bogus. But I certainly can't see you as 15."

I was definitely quite undeveloped for my age. Heck, I was barely 5 feet 3 inches [1.60 m] and 90 pounds [40 kg]. And slender. Almost no muscle in sight. I was always embarrassed when I had to shower in front of all my classmates. I looked like a 7th grader. Heck, I felt like one. And I only just started my journey through puberty maybe four months before. I pulled out my student ID.

We talked about all kinds of things including my schooling, my friends (actually the general lack of them) and my likes and so on. The guy seemed quite intent on knowing also how I felt about all kinds of sex stuff. I was pretty able to convince him that I was gay – 100% – and I really got excited by pictures of guys putting others into bondage and making them do sex things. Damn, I sprung a big boner I was embarrassed about but when he noticed he only laughed.

"Well boy. I am what you might call a procurer. I find young men or teens for an exclusive group of people who are always searching for young men like you who would not mind being used for sex."

Eventually I was introduced to Mr. Ben at some special gathering and I was totally excited when he later took me to his house. Which had twenty six rooms including – I found out a few weeks later – an authentic looking dungeon. Quite scary and thrilling at the same time. Fortunately, I discovered that Mr. Ben was not too much into the SM part of BDSM either. And he only hit me with a cane or paddle, or that stinging scourge thing as either a matter of discipline or to get us both into the right frame of mind. He was careful not to give me any marks or bruises which would show or take too long to heal.

It was in fact a good while before he did penetrate my anus in spite of me pleading for him to 'ravage my boy butt,' – which during our scenes in the dungeon usually included me screaming for him 'not' to do exactly that. Instead he gradually opened up my butt hole with a series of special expandable butt plugs which he had made for him special order. The larger ones even had a pump thing which allowed them to expand and stay in me even without that harness which he sometimes put about my waist and between my legs.

But, alas – I seemed to like that word – just when our sex times were getting REALLY good, I had to ruin everything.

Back to present day and Mr. Ben Boywright's perspective

But now I was confronted with a true surprise. A beautiful surprise but one which could spell disaster. I so wanted that boy! But this time I decided that first I'd make sure that there was no possibility of 'calamity.' I'd spent the past ten years improving my image. In fact I discovered that I actually liked the new me. It was even heart warming to help people, something that to my regret I had not been especially concerned about for the first 40 or more years of my life. But something happened with Tad Michaels. I had actually discovered that I cared for him. As more than a sex toy. And now this visage of boy pulchritude in front of me had inveigled his way into my affection in spite of the fact that I had only fantasized about having him in my bed and down in my dungeon. I must say that until this very moment I had not given any real thought to seducing him. And now it seemed that the boy was intent on seducing me! And my mind almost balked at the prospect I had been so determined these past ten years to avoid. To ever again expose myself to the bane of our legal system.

But in just ten seconds it would seem my carefully revised persona, and my carefully constructed and well ordered life, had come undone. I felt my motives and desires thinking of all manner of scenarios whereby this boy would indeed become MINE!

But I must proceed with all caution. I lamentably asked my precious 'Dulito to dress himself and convinced him that we must 'talk about things' first before we decided to 'do' anything. All the while I was furiously trying to think of some scenario which could possibly have a realistic chance of success. Success meaning that this boy would become MY BOY! Preferably with his eventually consent. Of course 'consent' had quite an extreme gamut of connotations.

The boy started to cry. For a boy his age this was quite understandable. I did my best to assuage his out of control emotions. I finally calmed him down enough to elicit the full story – at least as much of it that he knew and understood. It was actually quite simple. His sister needed a bone marrow transplant to help cure her of a very nasty form of leukemia. Without the donor, the outlook was bleak, and no such donor seemed to be on any list in this country. And the girl's parents, Adulio's parents, were too poor to pursue other avenues. But I was not. This cute boy was prostituting himself! Even if he had not thought of it in those terms. But I was determined to help the sister even if it did not include any scenario where I did get my Adulio into my bed. But I was sure going to give it my best try. First I had to convince his parents that I was being totally altruistic. Not exactly true, but not completely false. I had discovered over recent years that happy employees made them that more loyal and hard working. Everyone gained by actually going that perhaps extra measure. And besides, I found I actually liked helping people.

Adulio's Mama had been my maid and in charge of my house for several years while his Papa had briefly been one of my gardeners but who was now employed elsewhere. (And I now learned that he was in fact the boy's step-father). Unfortunately I had not indeed known of the plight of their daughter until now. I made steps immediately to correct this.

Three weeks later, a bundle of money, a lot of 'friendly' persuasion, and a very remarkable boy, had finally seen the very beginnings of my master plan take shape. I had found a potential donor in Europe. And a hospital in Switzerland who would accept this patient and donor, where the girl would be hospitalized. Of course I insisted that her parents be there with her at my expense. And again I convinced them that Adulio would be better off with his friends and that I would be most happy to take care of him. ('Take care of him' indeed. We had both, myself and Adulio, sniggered over that phrase but I was certain we had quite a bit of difference envisioning our respective future scenarios. The boy WAS young and hence naturally naïve)! This part took a bit of persuasion but it was eventually decided. It helped that his step-dad seemed to think of Adulio as an inconvenience and a financial burden, while his Mama was totally focused on her daughter. Of course I had wrangled from them full parental rights over the boy 'just in case.' Just a legal technicality I maintained.

It was four months later when we were rejoicing in the news about Adulio's sister who was finally found to be cancer free, and recovering her health. In order to maintain my hold on the boy I had to agree to bringing back his parents for the occasional visit but they could tell that their boy was happy. It was four weeks later, during their second visit – this time only the Mama – when she seemed surprised in the exuberance of what she thought to be her normally taciturn boy. All involved seemed to realize that the ordeal with the sick girl had seemed to have drawn too much of their attention away from their boy. Later that night Adulio's Mama had finally agreed that any previous misgivings about allowing the boy to remain with me (and the boy's few friends at school) had been unfounded.

Adulio's Mama asked the usual questions. Adulio answered with gusto.

"Mama, yes I am very happy. Mr. Ben, he has taught me how to enjoy things. And has promised to send me to the best schools."

He rambled on about the wonderful world that was opening up for him. What they could not tell was that by this time I had his rear butt hole opened enough to begin using it for what it was destined to receive – my own (fortunately not-so-large) penis. All the while his Mama walked with my boy out in the garden, just beginning to bloom – both garden and boy – she was totally unaware that her son's boy butt hole was actually plugged with the last and largest of the instruments gradually opening his rear love hole. Soon to be in my sole possession. My future plans included never allowing Adulio's butt hole out of my own complete and strict control. Of course the same plans were in preparation for all his sex parts. I had been gradually introducing my boy, not only to the joys of physical bondage and control, but even so far as conditioning him to abdicate all control over his own body during our sex games. Although he was unaware, he was already well on his way – even if he could not yet think of it in those explicit terms – to being my slave boy. So far all our master-slave 'games' were only seen by him as some kind of fantastic sexual fun time. But eventually I will be making ever increasing demands. Of course I was also making sure that every moment of his own sexual and sensual pleasure – actually available to him even as young as he was – to be totally thought of in terms of my control and his submission. First I will lead him into being my sex slave, and eventually my slave in reality. What he did not yet know, I was already planning exactly how I was going to deny him any chance of advancing through puberty, and if the doctor was right in his assessment of all the new drugs available, even to the point of bringing to a near halt his very growth into an adult body. I was determined that THIS boy would not only be MY boy, but be my BOY for many years to come.

But of course I needed to 'win over' his parents. And thus, by the time they had returned to this country, I was about to reveal my 'plan' for their boy. It included his 'becoming my heir' – an inducement I was not only hoping to use as a fulcrum of my persuasion, but indeed about which I was totally serious. It would be the least I could do to reward my boy after his many years as my total slave. It also included the very best of educations which would be begun with by several special 'tutors' in my own estate. I had not yet decided just how to make sure that the boy's parents would find necessary employment at least a day's travel from their boy. My plans could only work with minimal 'visitation.' Of course I was sure I could 'find' the boy's Papa a sufficiently alluring job which would overcome their resistance of being so distantly separated from their own boy.

Six months later, I was finally made the legal ward of young Adulio. His own pleas, together with the mesh of circumstances, and the step-dad's strong dislike for his wife's son by a pervious 'illicit sexual encounter,' had eventually won the day. It also helped that the boy's parents found offers of employment three states away that were too good to turn down. And the fact that Adulio's Mama was again pregnant with another potential family member. And even if no one gave actual mention to the fact that the boy would indeed inherit my own vast fortune, I am sure that this too was a significant factor. In any event, Adulio was now mine. At least legally. And I became then much more flagrant in my determination to make him my slave. It quite helped that the boy truly liked both his new prospective 'master' and also the gradually more structured master-sex scenes with which our sex games encompassed. It was at this time when I started continuing this master-slave scenario out of my bed room and into the awaiting and recently refurbished dungeon. I was quite careful no to propel the boy too bluntly into his new 'life.' And I was very encouraged to note that the boy seemed quite amendable to being my 'slave' even when not in the dungeon or when having sex.

But finally today was to be a day of major departure for the boy. Today I will explain to him that his being a slave was not merely a game. That in absolute reality he would BE my slave. And one for many years to come.

And so even our sex games this day I conducted with a new ruthlessness. The degree of bondage I would now introduce the boy too would be a lever greater than ever before. I had never yet used anything but the very simplest and least severe of mouth plugs. But today I would forcing a quite large apparatus into the boy's mouth and even attaching a full muzzle if I determined it was not pushing things to fast. And I also had quite a surprise for his cute four inch [10 cm] penis. All of the things I had been sticking into his urethra had been quite tame and designed to allow for relative comfort. But today's new sound was quite different. And its attachments were designed to make the boy ever conscious of his little boy penis so long as they were attached. Nor would he be able to pee with it attached. And the same would go with the new butt plug. And considering how my boy had been cooperating so far with these games of bondage and control, I was quite expecting success if not out his out right enthusiasm.

And our visit to the estate of a small group of people with whom I had only recently reconnected, would be a true test of the boy's will to please his 'master.' And very hopefully it will be something which he could even himself enjoy. Of course Adulio's absolute cooperation would no longer be a necessary consideration. Things will very soon go much beyond consensual. But hopefully the very subtle conditioning of my 'Dulito in his linking all of his pleasure derived from his developing sexual appetites with my ever increasing control over him both physically and psychologically will make this new transition into true slavery, much less problematical. I also hoped that his experience and socializing with the three other young slaves which will be at that estate will be very beneficial. (Together with those slaveboys' masters of course).

I was totally tingling with excitement as I now engaged in my favorite pastime – having man-boy sex with my precious 'Dulito.

Adulio

Of course this time Mr. Ben mentioned several really fantastic surprises. He said he had even finally gotten several of new bondage toys that he had me measured for several weeks ago. Holy smoke! Was THAT embarrassing. Having a total stranger not only see me butt assed naked but even touching my butt and penis! But I did it for Mr. Ben, and even started enjoying it by the time I was measured for some new mouth gag. Mr. Ben seemed to think I would be scared when it was explained to me just how it would stretch my mouth and hold it open. But it just had me that much more excited. Those old rubber penis things while really getting my in the mood, were getting just too tame. Now the idea of something being put into my mouth to forcibly hold it open so that other things could be forced into my mouth and throat had me SO excited! And now that I have gotten used to that thing in my penis – right into my sensitive piss hole – I was wondering at Mr. Ben's hints that this new sound would be quite different. And of course my butt plug. It was really difficult at first to get used to that being my butt for long periods. Of course for short times during our sex games I even liked it there. (I liked my 'master' big penis even better)! But having that thing in my butt and poop chute all the time could really get annoying. Of course I WAS wondering just yesterday when Mr. Ben let me go half the day without both the butt plug and the butt plug harness, I sort of missed the strange but exciting feeling it gave me. So I realized just today that maybe I COULD get used to the thing being in me most of the time. And the idea of Mr. Ben having control of what he calls my main sex holes was in itself exciting. I sort of really liked the idea of him being in charge of my poop hole. He even recently insisted that I could only poop when he allowed it. Of course he had also started cleaning my poop hole and insides out. So it was quite natural that he should be there, even if it was so utterly embarrassing that long time ago when he first started doing that to me.

But today was going to be special and I could simply not contain myself. Yesterday Mr. Ben had taken me to that fantastic amusement park and I swear he was getting younger. He was just like a kid – like me – enjoying being propelled about a track at a billion miles an hour and swearing that the next hill and being turned upside down was going to scare you to death.

But as much as I like all out outings and trips, I liked even more all the sex stuff we did together. In fact I was wondering even if I could ever think about the future when we would no longer be 'master' and 'slave.' I decided not to think about that – it was years from now. I decided at least for now to enjoy my life. Even having visits from my Mama only every two weeks didn't bother me that much anymore. I was so glad she was finally happy. I mean for a while there I thought she had totally forgotten how to smile. And wow is her belly so big. She said that I would be having another sister very soon and that she might have to skip a visit or two. And I also learned that my sister would be actually starting real school in a few weeks. It was hard to think of my sister as a normal kid going to school after the couple years of all her trouble. But now I was just as happy as my Mama. Even more so I thought. And any vague future, which I did NOT want to dwell on too much, at least had me very rich and able to do anything I wanted. Though I really hoped that Mr. Ben would still be in my life for years and years.

And speaking of school, I didn't even have those tutors these past couple months. It was summer again after all. My 12th birthday was celebrated just at the start of summer and even my Papa was there for it. (I didn't understand exactly how come my Papa got that fancy new truck from Mr. Ben when it was MY birthday, but Mr. Ben said something about when all the people around me were happy, then I could be even happier myself. And I think he is so right). Compared to this time last year it is totally a completely different life. And I enjoyed every second of it so very much. And I could now see that my own Mama enjoyed the fact that her boy was also now a happy boy. (Even if that boy seemed not to be growing all that much). Geesh! I was still barely over 4½ feet [1.40 m] and so skinny. Though Mr. Ben keeps telling me that I'm perfectly shaped for a boy my age and build. I just wish my Mama hadn't given me all her small person genes. And if I'm forced to admit the truth, in spite of Mr. Ben saying otherwise, I can't see how I'm any more special looking than any average Latino boy. Black hair, black eyes, light brown skin, and all my bones show where I wish they'd start being covered with muscle. I think all the praise I get from Mr. Ben is because I'm a boy. To him I think all boys my age are cute. Though he insists that I'm special. And they way he looks at me sometimes, like right now, is almost too embarrassing. Like I'm some kind of holy grail of boys. Of course inn a few moments as he begins touching my naked body, all thoughts except of sex and being his 'sex slave' will vanish. And I just let myself enjoy.

Mr. Ben Boywright

His boy visibly trembled when he picked him up and bodily threw him down onto the large bed. Mr. Boywright always marveled at the boy's reactions during their 'sex games.' It was almost startling to see the boy's apparent struggles and strong physical attempts to 'escape' what was happening to him, yet underneath it all was his so total submission, and truly passive nature. Some people thought that a passive boy was one who just lay there and let things happen. Not so. What a truly vibrant but passive 'sex slave' will do is always submit to what his 'master' wants and to actively cooperate under all circumstances. Though Adulio seemed to not just want but he seemed to urgently need his 'master' to take control and be the director. And never once had Adulio actually objected to anything he had so far done to, and asked of, his boy 'slave.' Of course he was quite careful to take his boy into slave control and bondage in measured steps. And even when he 'punished' his boy for 'attempting to resist' his efforts, the boy accepted the pain that went along with his discipline. Today he decided to take the boy one major step further into that world of discipline and master-slave control.

"Boy. You shall submit. For your attempt to get out of my grasp you need to be severely punished. Stand in punishment position two."

"Yes master. You slave must obey."

The effect was undone just a bit as the boy actually giggled as he slipped out of his 'master's' hands and stood with his feet planted firmly on the rug about two feet [60 cm] apart and his body bent forward with his hands placed on his knees. Mr. Ben was very pleased to see that not only was his boy submitting completely even with the knowledge that he would be in some considerable pain very soon, but the boy's turgid 4 inch [10 cm] penis also indicated that deep down the boy was as excited at the prospect as was Mr. Ben himself.

Of course when he returned with the very slender cane which the boy truly feared, the boy's smile vanished and he began to tremble a bit.

"Master, please no. I promise to be a very good boy. Maybe just the light paddle? Please?"

Mr. Ben had to note with extreme care the boy's minor physical cues. Frequently the boy was indeed experiencing some real measure of fear even when it was sublimated by his desire to be 'into their game' to the point that much of his apparent 'rebellion' and 'pleas for leniency' were more script than reality. But Mr. Ben knew that his boy truly disliked that stinging cane. And the pain that seemed to continue even long after its use made its severe welts on his tender skin. Mr. Ben was quite careful never to wield it too enthusiastically and never to cross lines which could possibly cause a break in the boy's skin.

"Boy, I never gave you permission to speak. For that it will be four swats instead of three. And that forth will be on the back of your tender thighs."

The first swat was just to get the range and feel of the supple piece of specially designed cane. Of course a small line appeared across the boy's light brown butt about the same time that the boy could get over the shock of the pain and scream from the sudden pain. But he stayed stoically still. The second caused an even louder scream, a very visibly tremble in the boy's legs and arms, and another even deeper line. Mr. Ben was so aroused he almost was ready to forgo all preliminaries and drive his slender 7 inch [17½ cm] rigid tool into his boy's rear cavity. But anticipation and proper preparation brought about an even better result. The third swat paralleled the first two just above the boy's legs. The boy tumbled just a bit but regained his balance along with emitting an ear splitting howl. The boy never did make any attempt to suppress how he was feeling during these episodes of discipline. Tears were now freely flowing down the boy's cheeks and he spoke.

"Master, please no more. Please it really hurts!"

"Boy, it's supposed to hurt. You're my slave who was disobedient."

Mr. Ben was actually quite surprised. The tone of the boy's voice, along with his facial cues showed actual submission. And even if the boy had been half pleading in earnest, the other half at least was in acceptance of his 'slave' role.

The fourth swat at the back of the boy's thighs caused the boy to stumble and go down to one knee. But surprisingly his scream was totally muted. Mr. Ben could actually see the boy's physical effort to submit to the last of his punishment. And he was also pleased to see the boy try to smile through his running tears.

"Will you finally allow your master full possession of your little boy body?"

"Yes master." The boy was fast drying his tears. His anticipation of the coming events was almost as acute as Mr. Ben's.

"And allow your master free access to all your cute sex parts?"

The boy's smile really emerged now and he again replied: "Yes master. They belong to you after all."

Mr. Ben never insisted on 'formula' replies so long as they were always pertinent to the situation. And his little 'Dulito was a good ad libber.

The boy could not get onto the bed fast enough when instructed. He truly liked what was going to happen to him. First he was trapped under Mr. Ben's big hands which searched out all his most intimate parts. He couldn't stop squiggling all around as those hands began caressing his naked flesh. It was so tantalizing as Mr. Ben never rushed things. It seemed to take FOREVER before one of his fingers found his real love hole. Of course the boy protested this invasion and pretended to avoid the insertion. In fact the boy started using every ounce of his strength in escaping Mr. Ben's grasp, but of course he knew the inevitable end result. But 'resisting' seemed to accentuate his feelings. And he was sure that Mr. Ben liked it when he had to get so forceful with his 'slave.' Eventually the boy was 'forced' to suck on his master's big bone hard penis. By now the boy knew the usual routine, using his mouth and hands to their best advantage. He was now the puppet and his master the conductor. He also alternated from sucking on his masters penis with licking all about the man's dangling testicles, and even into his butt cleft.

Adulio had resisted for some time this latter ministration and even now he really made sure his master was perfectly cleaned up during the shower that invariably preceded their love making. But by now the boy seemed to avidly enjoy licking around his master's butt hole and even spread his master's cheeks to gain access to the interior regions. Mr. Ben absolutely delighted in the feel of that little tongue bathing his anal ring. Eventually he intended to 'teach' his boy to press his tongue even further inside his anal canal. But slow and cautious was the norm. He had to bring the boy along at the right pace.

Of course Mr. Ben took even greater delight in returning the favor. He manhandled his boy to expose his most intimate boy parts and started his own mouth massage on the boy's small brown genitals. He had absolutely no compunction with putting his own tongue right into the boy who never seemed then able to continue his own attack on his master's nether regions being so aroused and inflamed by the physical and emotional response to what his master was doing to his own intimate parts. Adulio would occasionally try to restart his own tongue and mouth ministration to his master's much larger sex parts but kept being 'distracted' by the strength of the feelings he was himself experiencing. Soon the boy was in the throws of his own spasming and mostly dry orgasm.

Mr. Ben truly loved bringing such pleasure to his boy. Of course this far into their sexual play his boy was so into the entire sex game that he stopped all pretense of resisting and frequently, as an almost automatic response, opened his legs as widely as they could go as his master molested his most intimate parts. Only when his master finally positioned his butt for an anal attack by his big penis did the boy make any conscious attempt to physically accommodate the invading member.

Mr. Ben was a master at drawing out his own sexual enjoyment. He had taught his boy to manipulate his own testicles which he was thrusting into the boy's tight rear cavity but this usually only lasted for a short while 'till the boy again was totally engrossed in the feelings coming from his anal sphincter and unable to put his concentration elsewhere. The boy was quite happy now that there was only very minimal pain associated with the invasion and that only at the very beginning. Soon the boy was again experiencing his own dry orgasm and the compression of his sphincter muscles triggered the final explosion from his master.

As usual, man and boy enjoyed the after-glow of their coupling. By this time the boy was again totally passive as he allowed his master to pull his body into a tight full body embrace. Of course, Mr. Ben would eventually 'recover' and the next attack of his boy was usually much more drawn out. But if anything found it more pleasing if not quite as physically passionate.

A couple hours later Mr. Ben prodded his boy awake and literally picked him up and carried him into the huge Jacuzzi where they both enjoyed cleaning each other's body. This time there was no additional sex play as would frequently happen. It was already almost noon and Mr. Ben had plans. Very important and serious plans.

"OK boy, lets go to the dungeon. I have a few surprises for you."

This was when Adulio was usually refitted with his leather collar and butt plug with his waist and groin harness. And if they were going to stay in the private areas of the estate, leather wrist and ankle cuffs. But now Adulio readily remembered the special things for which his small body had been measured several weeks before.

"Wow. Hurry Mr. Ben." Adulio was pulling his master's arm for all he was worth as he seemed they could not to walk towards the elevator fast enough.

"You gonna finally put real bondage things on me Mr. Ben?"

"As I promised boy. Don't be so impatient."

But Mr. Ben himself was experiencing his own excitement as he anticipated bringing his boy into the next higher level of physical control. And more importantly, psychological control.

The boy never lost his wonder at walking into the dungeon proper with its dark wooden plank walls, visual displays of control devices including a special bondage chair, two different kinds of crosses, and a wall literally covered with instruments of torture and bondage. Of course most of them were merely for show, but there was some strange visceral thrill which cursed through his small body as Adulio actually fantasized about his Mr. Ben fitting some of those attachments onto his own body even if at the same time he realized he would definitely not like the pain associated with them. He remembered that time he'd begged his 'master' to put those large and heavy metal boots onto his feet. But even after the very first half turn of the screws on both sides of one of the shoes, little Adulio was wailing at the minimum of pain already experienced when he felt those several pins gradually push into the souls of his very venerable foot.

"STOP! Please Mr. Ben. That really hurts. How could someone actually stand that?"

""Dulito. That's the entire point to causing this kind of pain. The idea might be exciting but the reality is that most torture is only exactly that. Torture. And the only one who might find it to be sexually stimulating is the person doing the torture."

And it was only a week later when the boy discovered that that little innocent looking thumb screw was even worse. After just a half turn he was again begging for Mr. Ben to stop. At least the boy sized stretching table onto which Mr. Ben frequently attached his body, either fully spread eagled or with his arms and legs straight up and down, was much more bearable. And even exciting so long as the straps were not pulled too tight. And strangely the boy eventually was recognizing that sometimes the before pain, even the really bad before pain, commonly resulted in his even greater sexual response later. How weird was that?

But this time Mr. Ben merely attached his boy to the special chair with his arms and legs strapped down pretty well immobile. Part of the seat section was missing so that there was complete access to the boy's butt hole and genitals. Adulio moaned with sensual delight at the feeling of his tight bondage as the many straps were secured about his arms and legs. There were even special attachments, when needed which allowed each hand to be secured finger by finger.

"Do the other straps Mr. Ben. Please."

Four more straps were quickly tightened about the boy's torso. The boy squiggled and squealed in delight as each strap was tightened.

"Of course boy, the last of your new attachments will need you standing free of the chair."

Adulio was transported into a realm of fantasy and delight. Possibly even more so than his 'master.' Mr. Ben took as much delight in his boy's response as his own. He truly liked bringing this manner of pleasure to his boy. Of course his boy was very soon going to feel attachments of control which will possibly tax his apparent desire for them. Especially when he discovers the moderate to possibly severe discomfort that can accompany their insertion.

"OK boy, you are now my slave. You will be expected to obey without complaint. Understand boy?"

Adulio squealed with pure delight. This was an adventure. "Yes master. Your slave boy obeys."

The effect of his words were undermined just a bit by the boy's small snicker at the end.

The very first thing Mr. Ben took out of the box which had been delivered just the day before were two halves of a metal collar. Adulio gasped when he saw them. He quickly understood what they were. His new collar. Mr. Ben had mentioned a new collar but not about it being metal. He wondered just how the thing attached. Or even came off afterwards.

The small collar, when the two halves were joined, was about a half inch [13 mm] high, slightly more than an eighth inch [3 mm] thick, and a smooth oval in cross section. And in spite of being made from some lighter non-tarnishing alloys was nonetheless fully a half pound [250 g] in weight. What Adulio was quite puzzled by were not the four streamlined attachments about its outer surface for clipping on a leash or other things, but the strange small cone like projections extending from the flat side of each half of the circle. And when Mr. Ben showed him, the corresponding cone like indentations in the opposite side.

"Boy, these four cones fit into four holes and are so constructed to snap together when the two halves are brought together around your neck."

Adulio could barely contain his excitement, as the two halves were positioned. But he became puzzled again as a large clamp was placed to push the two halves together.

"Mr. Ben. It needs that clamp thing?"

"Yes boy. It will take quite a bit of force to snap the cones into their respective holes."

And indeed it did. In fact it took quite a few forceful turns of the screw like ratchets on the clamp to force the two halves of the collar together. But eventually the two halves were pressed together.

After the clamp was disengaged the boy quickly tried to bend his head back and forth to accommodate the feel of this heavy collar which did not leave very much room between metal and neck. After several moments while Mr. Ben was admiring the seemingly seamless metal collar, and the boy was getting its feel, suddenly the boy showed his quick wit by asking an obvious question.

"Mr. Ben, how does it come off?"

""Dulito. It doesn't come off. Its permanent."

A suddenly scared boy looked up at his 'master' with real concern and a bit of fear.

But how about when I need to do stuff? And how about other people seeing it? I can't just go around all the time with a collar. What will people think?"

"Boy, first of all, this collar represents a new stage in our relationship. I want you to always think of yourself as my little sex slave boy. And as far as doing stuff, you will be surprised how fast it will become quite normal to feel it about your neck."

Adulio was not sure how he felt about this carrying their slave games to that degree. Although a very small part of his psyche seemed to be delighted. But another thought intruded.

"But Mr. Ben, what will other people think?"

"Look boy, that collar rides low enough on your neck that a high collared shirt will hide it when needed. Besides boy, in a real emergency a very strong pull can break the two halves apart."

What Mr. Ben did not announce was that he had obtained two such collars. But the second one, quite a lot more massive, would NOT come apart so easily and would have to be cut off. This would await other developments when his boy was much more trained to be his actual slave.

Adulio allowed himself to be mollified, especially since he actually liked the idea of his new collar. Only the thought of someone else seeing it caused him some alarm. But yes, he did have several shirts with collars which could hide the thing. If he ever got used to it. It felt so much different from the leather collars he had worn from time to time.

"OK boy, several more things and then I will be taking you to a friend's private estate to show you off." On seeing Adulio's face he quickly added: "Don't worry boy. This man has a boy much like yourself. And that boy also wears a permanent slave collar. In fact there will be two other boys there with their masters, just like myself and you. I think you will really enjoy talking with them and comparing notes so to speak."

Adulio finally found his voice: "Just like me? They also have master slave games?"

Not exactly boy. But close. Two of the boys are around your age, and one is several years older. But I am sure you will enjoy yourself. Just think, being brought into a room almost totally naked in front of six other people."

"WHAT? I can't be naked. Not in front of strangers."

"But 'Dulito. The other three boys will also be naked. Won't that be exciting?"

As the boy thought about it he started to smile even if it was really scary at the same time.

"Wow." And then a small snicker escaped Adulio's lips. "Will they be as cute as me?"

"No boy can be as cute as you 'Dulito. At least in my eyes."

Adulio glowed in the praise. And was getting real excited about meeting three other boys who has sex with their 'masters' just like him.

Then another thought came to him.

"Mr. Ben, they won't be touching me will they?"

"Not in any sexual manner boy. Only I am allowed to touch your special boy parts. Don't worry. Nothing bad will happen. But I want you to realize that there are other boys out there just like you. And just think. You can finally meet other boys who are not only just like you, but with whom I am hoping you will become good friends in the future.

Adulio smiled at the prospect. And the idea of being naked with his 'slave' collar right there for people to see, well, it WAS exciting. What Adulio did not quite yet understand was that those other three boys were not merely acting as slaves, but were in reality TRUE slaves. Mr. Ben wondered just how Adulio will react when he discovers this little twist in his perception of reality. He also wondered if Adulio will suddenly understand just what his own reality held in store. Mr. Ben was quite sure that sometime during their meeting Adulio will probably begin to at least wonder if not outright realize that he himself was to become a real slave. Well, if not, he would very soon find out for Mr. Ben had every intention of informing Adulio that beginning this very day he in fact would be his real slave. He was only hoping that the boy's reaction would not be too traumatic. But Mr. Ben was determined. Today little Adulio would become his slave boy. And, if necessary, he fully intended to discipline his boy to the point where he absolutely resigned himself to this vital fact. And Dr. Shriveson was going to be there also. One of the boys had already been under the doctor's care for more than three years, and in spite of being 16 years old, the boy showed absolutely no signs of advancing through puberty. And at 16 the boy was still only 5' 2" [1.57 m] and less than 100 pounds [45 kg]. Mr. Ben was hoping for similar results with Aduilo. And he was hoping that the drug regimen could keep his boy a boy almost indefinitely. Of course he was probably not going to make this information known yet to his boy just yet. Just discovering his true slave status will be enough of a trauma.

As Mr. Ben envisioned his boy's future he became more animated and enthused. Now to introduce his boy to real bondage and control.

Onto the boy's wrist and ankles were fitted new leather cuffs but these had woven metal cores. Made to be comfortable, they were nonetheless quite notable in their solidity and weight. And their role in informing his boy that yes, he was a slave and would frequently find himself in some degree of physical control. Adulio actually delighted in his new cuffs. What he did not realize was that he would rarely be without them.

"Wow, they're heavy but they feel so neat. Can I walk about to get the feel of them?"

"In a little while boy. There are several other things yet."

Next Mr. Ben brought out what to the boy looked like a scary looking butt plug. Especially since he'd never seen a metal one before. Well, apart from things on the Internet.

"First a new waist belt. It has straps which encircle your cute boy genitals and join with another which goes up your butt crack."

Adulio was quite familiar with such a waist and groin belt but this one was so substantial.

"Mr. Ben, it looks heavy."

"Not especially boy, but it definitely is bigger than anything you've had on yet."

Mr. Ben removed two of the straps about his boy's torso in order to attach the belt. The central part was fully two inches [5 cm] wide and thick but was deliberately made supple and smooth enough to be relatively comfortable. The one big difference was that it locked on as Adulio soon realized. There was a locking clasp that joined in the back. He certainly heard the click as it was put about his slim waist. Then Adulio squirmed as the plug was forced into his rectum. It was not especially large, being only 5 inches [12½ cm] long and only an inch [2½ cm] across but the damn thing was solid metal and slightly bent to fit the direction of his internal poop canal. He squirmed as much as possible considering being attached to the chair as it was shoved totally inside with only a flattened flange projecting along his butt crack both in front and back. It felt so amazing even if scary at the same time. Mr. Ben quickly placed the straps in place about the boy's genitals, and then put the joined strap into a slot of the butt plug's flange and then finally it too was locked into place at the back of the boy's waist belt.

"This plug is a bit heavy but the straps are designed to keep it in place. And only I have the key of course."

Adulio was more intrigued and excited than anything else. But when his Mr. Ben showed to him the next attachment he got scared all over again.

"Where does that go Mr. Ben?"

Adulio actually knew but he wanted to be wrong.

"This goes in your mouth boy."

"But Mr. Ben," Adulio was getting a bit anxious. "It's metal. And looks like it could hurt."

"No need to get frightened boy. When fitted properly it merely holds your mouth open and this other plug fits inside to fill your mouth and seal your mouth so you can only be given some liquids through this little hole here. That opens up when a special fitting is pushed into it."

Adulio was not so scared that he was not intrigued. He looked long and hard at the thing as Mr. Ben showed it. Two solid and hinged ovals of metal were then forced into the boy's awaiting mouth – only a small amount of persuasion was needed – which had four slender metal projections which extended outward. When these four metal pieces, two on the top and two on the bottom, were pulled apart to come into snug conformity with both bottom and top lips, the metal ovals which were hinged in the back, forced the boy's mouth wide open but not excessively so. But still the boy yelled at the feel of his mouth being forced open. Mr. Ben quickly fitted the front piece onto the four prongs which sealed itself quite nicely around the entire rim of the boy's lips. It looked a lot more cruel than its application. Of course little Adulio started fighting the thing and Mr. Ben had to used a couple slaps of a short strap across the boy's torso to gain cooperation. There were tears running down the boys face and he was trying to yell something while also trying to escape the confinement of the chair.

Mr. Ben had to hit the boy a couple more times to get him to stop resisting.

"Look boy, this is not designed to hurt. And if you will stop trying to push it back out of your mouth it will feel much better."

Adulio finally calmed down as he realized that it was as his Mr. Ben had explained. But damn the thing was terrible the way it so completely held his mouth immobile, and widely open. All the words he tried to form were mostly unintelligible. How the heck could he actually say how the thing felt?

Of course that was part of its use. To keep the boy from speaking.

"Listen Adulio, you were the one who said you wanted more real-type control plugs and other things. Shake you head up and down if it really hurts."

Adulio shook his head sideways. He had calmed down considerably and even felt a small frisson of excitement in his groin area. It was just so frustrating loosing so much control over his own mouth and speech. All the other times he had been fitted with a mouth gag it had been during actual sex stuff, and he could still move his mouth a bit.

He kept his eyes on his Mr. Ben as he showed him the plug part again.

"Adulio this part is the actual plug which fits into your mouth and seals it up. You can actually breathe through it if you need too and you can even get small sips of liquid. But no food until it is removed. While you have it on you will be well under your master's control. That is a large part of its purpose."

The fitting of the interior plug was almost anticlimactic. Even if it too were metal and relatively heavy especially compared to previous much tamer mouth plugs fitted into the boy's mouth on previous occasions.

Finally the last portion of the apparatus was shown to the boy. It was a perfectly fitted metal mask that fitted over the top of the mouth plug forming a muzzle. It extended from the boy's nose and down well below his chin. There were straps, leather this time, which attached to either side of his nose and joined at its bridge forming just one strap which was pulled over the head and back down to a fitting on two other straps which extended from the side of the muzzle, below his ears, and again joined in the back. When all three straps were clasped together the muzzle was quite firmly and securely attached. The effect was amazing as it clearly told anyone who saw the boy that he was property.

By this time, as he got more used to the weird invasion of his mouth and as he did indeed realize that though a bit uncomfortable, it was not painful, Adulio was again much more curious and excited than frightened. In fact this new part excited him even more than the gag itself. He started shaking his head up and down.

"Ah boy. I see that you want this fitted too."

And in just a few seconds it was also attached. The boy tried to move his head around getting a feel for the gag and muzzle. Wow, the entire array was sure heavy. But as he got more used to it, the more he got excited. In fact his mall 4 inch [10 cm] penis was jutting outward in all its boy glory.

Mr. Ben decided to not only reward his boy for accepting both gag and muzzle, but wanted to reinforce it sexual nature. Thus he knelt in front of his boy and started to mouth the boy's jutting penis. Almost immediately the boy flung his head back and started whimpering. It was only the work of a minute to bring the boy to another dry climax. Mr. Ben was quite pleased. At every possible opportunity he wanted the boy to experience such control and bondage attachments in as fully a sexual context as possible. Another reason for keeping the boy naked for his next six hours as he was transported to the estate of his friend.

But there were a few more attachments to the boy's genitals which he also wanted to fit onto his now cooperative boy. As the boy recovered from his intense orgasm, Mr. Ben released the boy's hands and arms so that he could explore with his hands the gag and muzzle attachment. The boy felt all around.

Adulio was finally much more excited about everything even if his mouth started to ache just a little bit. That orgasm was one of his best ever. And he knew that his Mr. Ben was not finished. There was some new kind of thing which was supposed to go on his little penis somehow.

He eventually stopped feeling about his face muzzle as he watched quite intently his 'master' bring out a quite harmless looking ring which opened on a hinge. It was a slightly flattened ring of metal less than two inches [5 cm] across and about an eighth inch [3 mm] thick.

"This merely goes around your genitals boy. It's easier to show than explain. It's to help keep your stiffy projecting outwards."

And with a small click the ring was attached to his genitals encircling them below his miniature testicles. The fit was snug but not tight. But what came next had Adulio frightened all over again. All the small sounds which his Mr. Ben had previously stuck into his penis slit were plastic, slender, and simple rods. But this thing was metal and looked positively evil. It consisted of a very slim metal rod well less than an eighth inch [3 mm] in diameter but with three small metal ball-like projections evenly spaced down its length. As Mr. Ben started fitting the thing into his penis he started yelling – a very muffled yelling – as he maneuvered his body and used his hands trying to stop the larger diameter balls from being pushed into his very delicate penis. Mr. Ben was forced to again secure the boy's hands onto the arms of the chair, and amidst a renewed series of muffled screams and yells slowly pushed the lubricated item into the boy's penis. When the flared head sat snugly against the glans of the boy's vulnerable penis the entire 5 inches [12½ cm] of the sound was now holding the boy's penis jutting outward perpendicular to his body, while the interior balls were quite obvious where they expanded the boy's slit especially on the underside of his penis. Mr. Ben decided to just finish as fast as possible. Three small open rings connected by a small fine chain were fitted about the boy's penis and when all the rings were closed within the smaller indentations of the penis between the interior nodes, it effectively made the beaded sound almost impossible to remove. Without reopening the rings. Mr. Ben knew that this thing would hurt a bit when the boy's penis started its inevitable attempt to fully engorge. But the thing was sized so that it was more in the discomfort range and should be able to be accommodated well enough with a bit of experience. But no matter. His boy would eventually learn that some things he would just have to endure.

Later there was even a small series of weights which could be hung from the chain connecting the three rings. But that would come later when the boy was more comfortable with these and other measures of control, and conditioned to his true slave status.

The boy was now merely moaning as the thing stopped really hurting. But damn it was uncomfortable. And how the heck could he ever stop thinking about his penis? And that butt plug was really grabbing for some of his attention now too. Of course what Adulio did not quite understand at that moment was that this was also a part of the reason for these extreme measures. His master definitely wanted his boy to be aware of his sex parts much of his waking hours. He was a sex slave after all. He would get used to it. And hopefully even eventually revel in the near constant background feeling of sexual awareness.

Mr. Ben released his boy from the chair and quickly attached his wrist cuffs to a ring in the back of the waist belt. Adulio struggled a bit with his wrist until it became quite obvious he was definitely not going to be allowed to remove or even touch that thing confining his still jutting penis. But strangely as his 'master' had him walk about, the feelings he was experiencing was so sexual in nature, the small discomforts seemed to fade into the background. One thing he wanted so much, even though he just orgasmed a short time ago, was to again be brought to climax. It seemed his entire being wanted and even needed it so badly. His 'master' was smiling at his antics as he tried to rub his penis against his leg. Damn Mr. Ben knew what all this would do to him, and damn he couldn't make the slightest intelligible sound.

"Boy, hold still. As I said there was one more thing that needs to be fitted."

And Mr. Ben withdrew one more item from the now mostly empty box. And Adulio knew exactly what it was. And he got both fearful and elated at the same time. The thing was an upper body harness WITH LEASH! The small boy trembled in excitement as his arms were threaded through it and the thing was secured in the small of his back, where the leash was also attached. Adilio liked the feel of the smooth supple leather, but even more so in the idea of what this kind of control implied. He soon 'strained at the leash' as he pulled his 'master' about the dungeon.

It was only five minutes later when Adulio was led out essentially naked into the large garage and installed into the big van. The seat was deep enough and the van high enough so that perhaps only truck drivers could actually see into the van to see his naked body. Fortunately his hands were now fastened in front of his waist belt and Mr. Ben seemed not to object at his attempt to relieve the pressure on his penis by manipulating the constricting rings. But the thing simply would not come even loose let alone off. And every time his penis tried to get really hard he was forced to moan as the pain traveled into his genitals and into the interior of his body. Fortunately in short order his penis seemed to get the message and by the time they were half way to their destination Adulio was finally able to wrest his attention away from his sex parts and butt hole to see where they were going. He sure wished he could ask his Mr. Ben some questions.

Mr. Ben seemed to read his mind as he started explaining just how he had known these people and where they had met.

"First of all boy, has the pain mostly quit?"

Adulio reluctantly nodded.

"Good. Just know that such severe restraint of your penis will not be the normal thing. I just wanted to try the thing on you today. But the idea is to get you always mindful of your sex parts. You are supposed to be my sex slave after all. And I also just like to see you like that."

As the boy tried to make some sounds, but giving up in frustration, as Mr. Ben continued.

"Look boy, soon after we get there I will be removing your mouth muzzle and gag. After all I want you and the other boys to talk to one another and become acquainted. And if at that time your penis is starting to hurt too much please tell me truthfully and I will release those rings. But the sound will stay in."

Adulio gave a very visible sign of relief as he relaxed his taught body and sat back into the seat.

After about an hour's travel, well into the northern suburbs of the city, Adulio was all eyes as estate after estate seemed to fill the landscape. Eventually the van stopped at a wrought iron gate and Mr. Ben pressed the intercom button and announced himself. The gate opened and the van proceeded. About a quarter of a mile later a large estate loomed upward even bigger than Mr. Ben's. Adulio's heart was racing. Here he was naked and trussed up and about to be seen by strangers! And led on a leash! What will those other boy's think? His Mr. Ben had to literally pull him from the seat of the van and propel him toward the door which now was opening. Stark raving fear seized the boy as he so desperately tried to hide his genitals with his hands. But what almost stopped him dead in his thoughts was the apparition in front of him. There stood a boy, maybe just a bit older than himself, and also totally naked. But this boy was not only totally naked, but unabashedly smiling as if being naked like this was totally normal. It took several moments before Adulio realized that all was definitely not normal.

This boy was as black as anyone he had every seen, but it was what was attached to his body that attracted attention. Around the boy's neck was a collar at least three times the size of his own. And hanging down from the collar were two short chains attached to heavy wrist cuffs. The boy could only move his hands so far. Also attached to each ankle were two more cuffs and again attached to them was a heavy looking chain about a foot [30 cm] long. The boy had to make way with very small and carefully measured steps. And about the boy's torso was an elaborate leather harness. But it was the metal thing covering the entirety of the boy's penis and testicles – a penis only a bit bigger than his own – and the quite obvious plug pushed into the boy's rear entrance with something dangling from it below at least five inches [12½ cm] which, for some reason, not only startled him but brought his attention back to his own attachments, even if they were much less… well much less! And there was a big metal ring that seemed to go right through that metal thing encasing his penis. Holy smoke! It must actually go right through the end of his penis! And damn, the boy was smiling! Adulio could not quite know what to focus his attention on. He was finally brought out of his shock by the boy's words spoken with a very noticeable and strange accent.

"Welcome to the home of my master. Please make yourself at home. My name is Tiwonge and in the name of my master I welcome you. He is awaiting you both."

Adulio was so taken with the visage and aspect of the boy's obvious status that it finally hit him. HOLY HOT FUCKING DAMN! He suddenly started shaking and turned in some effort to confront his Mr. Ben. Damn! He couldn't speak. But he so desperately wanted to be assured that what his brain was suddenly telling him was wrong. Was he really now just like the boy at the door? Was he going to become Mr. Ben's REAL SLAVE?

And then another thought seized him in an almost panic. Was he ALREADY Mr. Ben's slave?

NEXT PART