3TB_06

THE TIES THAT BIND
By Waddie Greywolf

Chapter 6 ~ Under House Arrest

Part I ~ Water Music

“I sail the darkest rivers of my dreams,
My cargo, precious trust, secure in his control,
I guide my bodies-barque into my Master’s arms,
His port, my heart to dock, safe harbor for my soul.”
From: Canto 9 ~ Slave Songs ~ W.D. Dux ~ Posthumous

We headed towards the dungeon, but I hesitated for a moment. “Master, I should clean myself?" I asked.

“To the dungeon, Slave,” Master Earl ordered with a false gruffness. I started to object but remembered Master Jeb’s rule, an order given, not to hesitate. We descended the stairs into his magic kingdom. The moon was lighting the dungeon like a mystic realm where you might expect some misshapen gnome to scuttle forth with a goblet of mulled wine for his master. I could see more than I saw before. It was larger than I first thought. It boasted a large self-contained shower area with an extra wall down the right side. The other wall was the outside wall of the building. It must have been twenty by thirty and contained several tables and benches. It was covered completely in black tile. There was a door in the corner which looked like it went into another room. There was a walk-in closet built in under the stairs. Master Earl ordered me stand not far from the stairs. He retrieved the leather hood, wrist, and leg cuffs, and my mouth plug. He put on the wrist cuffs first, clipped chains to them, and then, to chains hanging from the ceiling.

“This is to make sure my exotic slave I have captured on the lesser moon of Antares doesn’t escape before this old space pirate gets to sample his prize. Try to escape these chains, me hardy— aarrr! I understand your race has been known to suck a man’s soul out through his cock. Is it true, Slave?” Earl D. grinned and winked at me as he launched into a fantasy.

“I am a prince unto my race. My father, the King of Gandura, will have more than your soul you filthy... ” I began a reply.

“Go on, Slave, you’re doing fine,” Master Earl encouraged me.

“... you filthy swine, but to answer your question, Captain. Why don’t you drop that well filled cod piece and try me. You have nothing but your soul to lose. (fiendish laughter) I’m sure it would taste of space dust, salt, goodly man odors, leather, smegma, spent semen, bay rum, and the rosebuds of many young virgin boys of various species,” I said.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you, Slave, to taste my man-soul along with my seed rushing down my big shaft to fill your belly? And what would happen to my soul? Would it die within your gut to be absorbed into your essence, or would you hold it prisoner for my love to grow within your belly like a pregnant whore?” Earl waxed fantastic.

“No, never! I won’t tell you, or one day you would hunt me down, capture me again, force your masculine pride into my mouth, shove your strength far down my throat, fuck me hard, then harder, until you’ve had your way with me against my will, so you might spill your seed and soul into me,” I responded in kind.

“It’s not that hole I plan to use to spill my seed this ‘eve, my handsome young prince of the Gandurians,” he said and raised an eyebrow.

“Beware, Captain, the prince of my people is rumored to have special powers in that area of his body,” I checked him.

“And, what might those rumors be, Slave?” he asked cautiously.

“I’m sure they’re only rumors, Captain, my new master, but I'm strangely drawn toward your manhood secreting sweet glistening fluids between your massive thighs. My royal rear-port is secreting lubricating juices in anticipation of being lanced with your large human-sword. It's dilating, readying itself to welcome your weapon to plunge into my body's depths so you might take your joy and pleasure in its use this ‘eve, my strong and willful, Captain; my new handsome master,” I said seductively.

Master Earl fell out of character. “Damn, Beau, where’d ju’ learn that? I haven’t found anyone who could keep up with me in fantasy dialogue, and you just bested me,” he said.

“I used to memorize vast passages of Shakespeare while waiting in the jungle. The military’s first order you learn: hurry up and wait. I sort of think in iambic pentameter as a result. Is that bad, Master?” I asked.

“Hell, no. But you can bet I’m gonna’ wonder before I slam my cock up your ass what magic it might have I don’t know about,” he replied and laughed, “We’ll pick this up later. Now hang around for a while,” he said and laughed again. “Beau, I haven’t laughed with anyone like I have with you tonight in a long time. I closed myself off from the world. You’ve re-opened doors for me, and for that I’m grateful,” Earl added. He leaned forward, kissed me gently on the lips, turned, and walked away. “Be back in a minute,” he said over his shoulder.

When Master Earl returned from the walk-in closet under the stairs I could have dropped my load right then and there. He was wearing a complete New York City Fireman’s outfit. Rubber coat, high rubber boots, and a huge rubber coat buckled in front. He was also wearing an antique full leather helmet. He stood directly under a pin spot so all I could see was the hint of him within the strong narrow beam of light rushing to the floor. I never really gave much thought to firemen being sexy, but this opened new doors for me.

“Master, you’d better move out from under that spot, sir,” I warned him.

“And why’s that, Slave?” he asked.

“If you don’t, I’m going to drop my load rye-cheer,” I replied using my Texas speak.

“Then I’d better heed my slave’s fair warning. It wouldn’t please your master for you to come before him,” Master Earl said.

“Thank you, sir,” I replied as he walked toward me.

He reached up to unclip my right arm from the overhead chain and made sure the cold rubber jacket made full contact against my nude body. He did the same with the other. He took me in his arms, and I could feel and smell the strength of the rubber coat around me. It was powerful stuff. He pulled away for a moment and flipped open a couple of latches on the coat to open it. He opened the jacket and had a full master’s harness on underneath. Once in a while, I saw guys wear similar things to the bar but nothing like this one. Master Earl pulled me inside of the coat as close to him as I could get and locked it around both of us. Do you have any idea how warm the inside of those coats can be? As he held me tight I whispered into his ear barely audible, “Please, please, Master, would you allow your slave to clean those wonderful boots for you?” I asked.

“I’m glad you asked, Slave. I like a slave who wants to please instead of one I have to order to do everything. Jeb shouldn’t have much problem with you. I sense a natural calling to be a slave. Once you’re spirit has been shaped and molded by Master Jeb’s design you will become a treasure to some lucky master. Who knows, it may even be me.”

“I could only hope for someone as wonderful as you, Master,” I said.

“Then continue hoping, slave. Dreams do come true,” he replied.

He replaced my collar, hooked my leash onto it, and led me to the giant chair with the boot irons. He got into the chair, opened his rubber coat, and placed his huge rubber boots on the boot irons. I looked up at one of the hottest sights I ever saw and thought to myself, 'Is this really happening?' His cod piece on the harness was stuffed with his big cock and stood out perfectly from the rest of the harness. He made himself comfortable, and I could see the small leather strap at the base of his cod piece running under his ass and disappearing into the darkness. He didn’t seem to be hurried and enjoyed watching me look at him. I was like a drunk who discovered a free bottle of booze and knew I was going to have a glorious high, but I didn’t want to drink it all at once.

“May I begin, sir?” I asked.

“Hope you’re hungry, Slave. There’s a lot of good eat’n on them boots,” he said half joking, half serious. He sounded like a cowboy. Other than my own lapses into the use of cowboy lingo, I couldn't remember hearing talk like that since I left Texas.

“Thank you, Master,” I replied.

I entered the gates into boot-slave heaven; a trance-like state when you’re aware of what your doing, but the over all sensations of smell, feel, and taste overpower the inputs of your brain. The best you can do is float on top of the moment. To those who might read this who think to themselves, ‘I could never debase myself like that to another man.’ I ask you, is it debasing to give of yourself to anyone? Ever read ‘Taming of the Shrew?’ Is Kate’s last speech so far removed from what I’ve been describing. To place her hand beneath her husband's boot to show her trust in him not to harm her, but acknowledging his power to crush it should he will it? It is the joining of two spirits in one action toward a common goal. Establishing or renewing bonds of affection through rituals. Your only thought is to become something that might please or bring joy to your master.

It’s unsettling in a way, but you must establish trust and faith in him to lead you where he wants to take you. These acts of submission are a necessary part of the ritual of defining territories, setting boundaries, and laying request at his feet to be used by him for mutual benefit, however he may choose. It is the symbolic transfer of trust and control you respectfully present to him. This was the control I was missing in my life, and I was wallowing in it like a man in a desert for three days without water who suddenly comes upon an oasis. Submission becomes a key to your trust you pass to your master which gives him control. If you find a master who betrays your trust and expects unrealistic things of his slave, get out as quickly as possible. He’s not enlightened. He tries to control through fear and terror from his own insecurities. Don’t allow yourself to become a victim. Your love will not change him.

Submitting to a crazy does neither of you any good. The horror that could occur is the incorrect, unhealthy imprinting which can lead to your addiction for the type. Always remember, addiction is not affection. Never confuse the two. Perhaps you’re thinking, ‘What a hypocrite. He swears his undying love for the giant and now he’s paving the road for a possible future with someone else.’ Good point! What did I see as a possible future with the giant? A dead end street. I’ll admit a large portion of my decision to enter training was to be around Master Jim as much as possible without pressuring him to do something, anything, to try to claim me as his. It’s not my intention to trap him. I might be gambling on a fantasy with Big Jim, but Master Earl was a solid possibility.

Here was a man with a lot to give, and in need of someone to give to him as well. As Master Jeb said, 'I certainly could do worse.' Earl D. Shaw is a hyper-masculine, drop-dead, good-looking, charming, affectionate, controlling but compassionate, sane, highly intelligent, delightfully deviate, body by God with the dick of death, and an LAPD motorcycle officer to boot. Did I leave anything out? Well, Hell, ain’t that enough? Certainly does it for me. Master Jeb told me, a bird in the hand; then there was that popular song I kept hearing like the harpies singing in the background of some Greek tragedy, 'If you can’t love the one you want, love the one you’re with.' I took it to heart. I covered every inch of his big black rubber boots with my tongue and prayed he wouldn’t noticed as I began my second round. Unfortunately, he did and called me to a halt.

He grabbed my leash which was hanging near him and pulled me to his crotch. I could smell the leather and the fragrance of his body blending with the strong acrid rubber smells. “Here’s your dessert, Slave. You may clean my cod piece,” he said.

I felt like I just won the lottery. “Thank you, sir, it will be a treat for your slave,” I replied. I could feel his huge cock folded around within the cod piece like a snake. A snake which would come out late at night to crawl into my ass and make me pray to God I could have his child. Did that make me want to be a woman? No, indeed, it’s a thought shared by all men even the straightest of men sometime in their lives. All men wonder what it would be like.

In my early days in Hollywood I didn’t suffer fools readily, but my heart always opened for those I met who just didn’t seem to fit in. They would be the ones who held hidden or secret fantasies they couldn’t share with a lot of people. Somehow, I attracted them like bears to honey. I must have had a flashing neon sign behind my head that read ‘sympathetic kinkoid!’ (Master Jeb said they picked up on my innate need to serve no matter the situation.) I met a kid one night who wanted to have action figures shoved up his butt, and then pretend to give birth to them. He even went so far as to find heavy clear balloons that could be stretched over the figure like a placenta. Not a bad idea in case something sharp might puncture his colon. It was a strange trip, but I was so fascinated by his seriousness and need to have someone share his fantasy, I thought, 'What the Hell? I’m bored tonight anyway. He is kinda cute, and I'm just curious enough to find out for myself if he's serious.'

Sometimes, to have someone share a particular fantasy is a form of validation none of us are as crazy as we might think. He wanted me to fuck him first to get him pregnant, of course. That's were I came in. I became daddy to the super-hero he planned to give birth to that evening. I could play the role of daddy really well, because I knew how I'd want a daddy to relate to me. After throwing a bodacious, verbal, as well as physical fuck into him and knocking him up, so to speak, then I’d insert the ‘baby’ to bake in his oven, as it were, and he’d become pregnant. He’d get up, walk around, I’d grab him, and feel his baby in his stomach. I’d tell him how big he was getting, and it wouldn’t be long now. We’d do the whole nine yards and finally it would be time for him to deliver. Now, mind you, it was up to him to give birth to this fantasy. Having something that unusual up your ass is not a trip around the may pole to shit out. (excuse me— give birth to.)

I had no problem being the expectant, cheer leading father, playing Johnny Bench with a catcher’s mitt; however, it was a stretch to see your child pop out a dead ringer for G. I. Joe with a five o'clock shadow. Ah, well, it popped his cork every damn time, and I’ll have to admit, I was glad I met him. He enriched my life, and I only hope I enriched his as he found so few people who would even entertain sharing his fantasy. It became our little secret and bonded us as friends for years. I relate this story with tongue in cheek humor, but no condemnation. My life wouldn’t have those memories if I hadn’t gone through with it, and what did it cost me to indulge him? It was a small price for a good fuck. After some of the hot fucks I threw into that little man, if he didn’t get pregnant he damn well should have. It certainly wasn’t from my lack of trying.

Sometime, I'll tell you the story about the guy who liked to stand in two chocolate pies and have me throw oranges at him while he jacked off. One time I suggested we use apples, but he reminded me he wasn’t hardcore. Remember Master Jeb’s wonderful axiom. It’s too bizarre not to be true. So much for Occam's razor. Master Jeb pointed out to me, going through such an unusual scene with the ‘baby boomer’ was only more proof to him of my necessity to serve or please. I would do things for people others wouldn’t consider. Master Jeb said it had nothing to do with goodness or compassion but a deeper need to serve. He also pointed out it was time I was taught how to direct my need in a proper way; his way, of course, but as I was to find out, Master Jeb’s way was the right way.

His reputation was not unfounded. He was the master’s master without ever drawing attention to himself. He didn't present himself as a man of great strength, understanding, or compassion; however, he was all those things and more. Master Jeb was genuinely more thoughtful and humble than most slaves. A conundrum? To some, perhaps, but there in lay his strength. When Master Jeb spoke, no matter how humbly, everyone listened. It was the way he lived his life and the things he tried to teach which will be his legacy. He never fathered any natural children, but he had several hundred slaves and master’s who would not hesitate to call him 'dad.' Some folks birth children, others birth ideas and concepts to live by. Master Jeb was the latter.

Like most desserts, cleaning Master Earl’s cod piece was sweet, eaten too quickly, and left me wanting more. Master Earl got down from the chair, and complimented me on the excellent job I did on his boots and cod piece. He told me he thought my tongue was going to push through the rubber to get to the prize beneath. He led me by my leash into the tiled area and told me to hit parade rest for a moment. He found my hood and mouth plug. He removed his dog collar and pulled the leather hood over my head and quickly laced it tight in the back. My Master replaced my collar and hooked two spring loaded snap hooks to each D-ring on either side. We performed the ritual of inserting my mouth plug which he secured tightly behind my head.

Master Earl ordered me onto a strange narrow table on my back. The top half, of which, was covered in padded black leather. The bottom half was hard to describe but the total bed was balanced like a children’s see/saw or teeter-totter on a big, inch and a half pipe. He attached the leather patch over my eyes explaining to me, sometimes it’s important for a slave not to see preparations he might be making. If I couldn’t see, I wouldn’t have questions, and it would be easier to deal with the situation. There were wrist straps attached to the table as well as arm straps. He hooked the spring clips on my collar to chains that ran to either side of the table. One large leather strap was placed across my chest which he buckled to the other side. A strap ran across my thighs, just above my crotch. He attached the strap across my upper leg, another just above my knees, and one around my ankles. I couldn’t move if I wanted to.

There were two chains that ran from the board near the arm straps, to an eye hook on the side of the board near my knees. He raised my legs and attached the chain to the eye hooks. The board under my leg was hinged and my knee could bend as my leg was secured. There was a metal brace he snapped into place to keep my lower leg straight. A chain connected the two knees to keep them from spreading too far apart and was adjustable. When he finished, my legs were in a great position for him to have access to my ass. He left me there for a while, and then returned. I heard the sound of a pair of rubber gloves snapping as he put them on.

I could feel him rubbing my ass and the cool sensation of his rubber gloves was sensual. It felt good to be touched around my private parts. He began fucking me with his finger, then two, then three, and began to really get into it, cork screwing his hand into me. He stopped abruptly. He began inserting something in my butt and the next thing I felt was something inflating in my rectum. It was getting bigger and felt like a damn balloon. I didn’t complain but it was slightly uncomfortable. The next thing I felt was another balloon being inflated outside my butt, but as it inflated it pulled the other one tight. My ass was locked between two balloons. I never saw a device like he put into my ass before.

I heard a click and warm, sudsy water began to fill my gut. My God, that’s why he wouldn’t let me clean out. He wanted to do it. He kept filling me until I was beginning to feel uncomfortable. I didn’t moan or try to get him to stop. I figured he knew what he was doing and wouldn’t hurt me. It might be uncomfortable, but I didn’t think he’d ever hurt me. Master Earl clicked off the flow, and placed his hand on my belly to feel. He left his gloved hand there for a minute. “Your doing fine, Slave. I like a slave who doesn’t complain. This is for your benefit? I wasn’t suppose to answer, and I didn’t. “Good Slave, I think you can hold just a little more. He kept his one hand on my belly as I heard the other hand click open the valve and the pressure started building again. He let it run for what seemed like an eternity, and finally clicked it off again. “That’s good for now, Slave,” he commented as he rubbed both hands over my belly. “Now, I’ve got a couple of things to do,” he wound up a clock, “I’m setting this for fifteen minutes. When it goes off I’ll be back and let that out. Until then, relax,” he said.

Relax, Hell, I wanted to scream. Pull the plug now, damn it! But I didn’t. I couldn’t because my mouth was plugged. He was going away to leave me with an uncomfortable amount of liquid in my gut and my hole plugged tighter than a corked wine bottle, so tight it couldn’t leak a drop. Before he left he placed a set of ear phones on my ears to listen to the strangest music. It was soft and barely audible. I heard bells, chimes, whistles in the distance, thunder, train whistles and random notes. It was weird but relaxing, but it wasn’t relaxing enough. I was in extreme discomfort. Do you have any idea how long fifteen minutes can be with a couple of quarts of liquid in your ass? I tried every way from Sunday to relax but nothing helped.

Then I remembered something my friend, David, taught me. There was a place he taught me to go to in my mind which was not sleep, but I would feel no discomfort or pain. I tried desperately to find it, but I began to panic. I was failing, I couldn’t relax enough to locate it. What was I to do? Suddenly, I felt a mental-hand grab my soul, my consciousness, and pull it quickly into a place of safety. All of a sudden I was there. I was in the room David showed me how to get to. I felt no pain. There was no more uncomfortable pressure. I was warm, cared for, and felt loved. I was safe.

My friend, David, in Nam, taught me how to find this place. He learned where it was, how to get there from a shining man who came to him several of the many times his father abused him. The shining man told him there would come a savior, his personal savior, to take him away from the hurt, and he would recognize him when he looked into his eyes. “Don’t hesitate or fear to go with him. He will save you from your parents,” he told my buddy. I felt the little boy’s warmth around me, I felt my beloved friend, David, as I held him again in my arms and wept with him.

“Thank you, David, for sharing your place with me. I don’t think I could've made it without you.”

“Yes, you could. You would have, and you will,” he said, “I know you. You risked your life to save mine. A life I may never have lived were it not for you. I would never have found the love I cherished were it not for you. Do you think I’d desert you now? We made love in the midst of chaos and horror. Have you forgotten? It was special. You were good to me. You gave me what I needed at the time with no thought to yourself. You were more than kind. You loved me, and I loved you in return. What we shared was one of the sweetest loves I’ve ever known,” he said.

“It was sweet, David, but I never found you again,” I told him.

"It's not important. You didn’t have to, I’m here with you now. I found you, and it’s my turn to help,” he said and filled my soul with his spirit. “I’ll take you to my father’s bed. He will hold you safe in his arms, and make love to you. I always wanted you to know and love him. I know he will love you,” he said.

Instantly we were transported to a beautiful bedroom, and I was being held in the arms of a big fine looking older man who proceeded to make sweet love to me. He fucked me with his enormously large cock, and I couldn’t get enough of him. I finally felt him release himself into me, and I reached climax shortly after. I felt bad about soiling his sheets. David returned me to the small room we were in originally. We made more love as I held him in my arms; this time, with no rush, in the peace of our spirits, away from the nasty orisons of war. The alarm went off jarring me back into discomfort and reality. There was incredible pressure, but the pain was gone. I felt at peace. I heard Master Earl’s footstep as he approached. He was wearing a full black rubber breathing mask with a flexible tube which attached to an overhead pipe. The pipe ran to the outside and had a small fan to force air in to the breathing apparatus of the mask. He ran his hand over my extended belly.

“I think we’ll add just a bit more," he said. I though I was going to die as I felt more fluid filling me. It wasn’t as bad as the first time. I was just apprehensive. Master Earl stopped the flow again and said we’d wait another couple of minutes before he’d let it go. I thought, ‘I don’t think I can. You gave him control. Don’t be foolish enough to take it back now when you’re so close. The finish line is just ahead, you can make it, grit your teeth, whistle ‘Dixie’, think of Ah-nauld fucking you, think of apple pie, think of Master Jeb, Big Jim inside you, think of the flavor of his tits,' I yelled at myself in my mind.

Then Master Earl saw it. “You shot without my permission, Slave? We must talk about this,” he said. He raised the table to an almost upright position and released the pressure from the inflated balloons. I felt like I was giving birth and my water just broke. Foul waters rushed from my body. Sanity and relief were commingled until I could only groan with the plug in my mouth. The imagined pregnancy was aborted. Master Earl held a hose with warm water rinsing everything down the drain. When he was satisfied I was finished he lowered the table and said the rinse wouldn’t be so bad. He took a large colonic tube with the warm water flowing and inserted it into me. He told me not to try to hold it. Just lie back, relax, and let him do the work. He was right, it didn’t feel so bad, and the further he worked it up my ass the better it felt.

“Well, that should do it. We’re well past the second sphincter with three feet of tubing. My God, the man stuck three feet of red rubber tubing up my butt. I guess I should be cleaned out. He stopped the water flow and left the tube inside of me. I passed the fluid as he slowly pulled the tube out of me. I could feel it snaking through my belly on its way out. Master Earl then stuck a cold metal thing in my ass that looked like a ducks beak with adjustments on it that began to spread my ass muscle open until it was about four inches wide. He up-righted the table and left it in me to drain any further fluids. It worked. There was no air pressure with my ass open to hold it in and everything else came out with one great swoosh.

Was that an empty feeling? I could understand what post-partum depression must feel like. Master Earl hit a switch for an air exhaust fan and lit incense around the dungeon. Finally he hosed me off on the table and washed me with a soft soapy sponge and hosed me down again. He lay me back and undid the straps, let my legs down, and undid the clips holding my head. My master took the mouth plug out and the hood off but left my dog collar on. My eyes became adjusted to more light and I saw the dungeon come alive with candles. He moved behind me with the biggest towel I ever saw and began drying me. He spoke softly to me with no anger in his voice. “I know you haven’t been through training yet, Son, but you know some of the basics and one very important control a master has over his slave is to say if and when he will be allowed to come. With that in mind do you want to tell me why you came?” he asked.

“Master Earl, I don’t remember doing it. If I tell you I was not in my body when it happened would you believe me?” I asked.

“This in your favor, Son, I would not believe another soul on this planet who gave me an excuse like that, but you? You I will believe,” he replied.

“I was in a place a friend I knew in Nam taught me to go to when I was in pain or discomfort. He was there, and...”

“And you made love with him?” he asked.

“Not him, per se, sir, his father. He took me to his dad’s bed and his father made love to me. I’m sorry, Master, but when I was there, I didn’t think about the 'here and now.' I could only feel his dad’s love and need. I needed him but in a different way than I need you. We returned, and my friend and I made love as well. His was the love of a sweet dear friend I knew in Nam. We were little more than children; still in our late teens. I did a small favor for him once, and we clung to each other from fear. The feelings I have for you are stronger, more mature, and I hope may grow. I would love you as a slave should love his master. Can you forgive me, sir?” I asked.

“I’ve never been exposed to this sort of thing until earlier tonight, but it’s not so difficult for me to understand. I forgive you slave with a kicker attached,” Earl said.

“Anything, sir,” I replied.

“I better get the best damn fuck from your ass you ever served up to any man,” he said.

“You will, Master. Your Gandurian prince is ready to be smote by your terrible swift sword,” I said.

He laughed at my nonsense. “Now, cut that out! You got me spooked enough as it is. Now jump in that sling, Slave, and be quick about it. I want to get in there while its still moist and hot,” he ordered.

Master Earl attached my wrist cuffs and chained them up over my head. He attached leg cuffs and secured them to a ‘Y’ in the chains that held the sling. He went to a closet under the stair and brought a long slender rubber cock attached to what looked like one of the grease guns I use at work. He squeezed a little lube out to the head of the rubber dildo and inserted it way up my ass. Then, he pumped the grease gun as he slowly pulled it out. My master prepared me for his fucking. I was ready to be used; ready to be mounted and ridden like a wild-eyed, bushy-tailed bronco with a burr under its saddle blanket.

“You haven’t been trained to be taken as a master must always take a slave, have you?” he asked.

“Yes, sir, I have. I would welcome you to take me as my master, sir. I would appreciate the honor of you taking me as your slave,” I replied with probably more information than he needed.

“Then I will take you as my slave. It’s the only way a master should take his slave. It sets the parameters between a master and his slave for the fuck. A slave always gives a better fuck that way. You agreed to my kicker so it becomes absolutely necessary,” he said. Master Earl mounted me to the base of his cock. It was every bit as large as the giant’s. I remembered that feel. God, it hurt good. How could that be? Good hurt? You can’t understand it until you’ve been there, but it’s the closest description I can give. It just hurt good.

Master Earl leaned forward, began to kiss me, and began a couple of small strokes that really did the trick to relax my slave hole. My greedy slave-ass wanted every inch of him inside me I could get. He gently made love to me working my hole, stretching it, relaxing it for his pleasure, moaning a little when he felt some fine stuff, then he’d retract the movement to get that part again, and again, and then move on to some deeper strokes. I was drifting into a space of relaxation I never experienced before. He wanted me, his weekend slave, to enjoy his fucking as much as him, and I was grateful for his concern.

“How’s that big cop cock feel in there, boy? Am I working that little slave butt enough to get it comfortable; get it broken in for some good hard riding in that little boy butt? I haven’t done this in three years, but its coming back to me, and I’m glad it’s you I’m fucking right now, Slave,” he said.

“I think that’s the nicest thing any one's ever said to me, Master, and yes, you’re doing one Hell of a fine job. Could I have just a little more of your good stretching, Officer Masters, oops, I mean...”

“Hey, wait a minute, I like that! Officer Masters. It has a nice ring to it. That’s the way we find intimate names for people. They come out of nowhere. I like it. Officer Masters, covers two bases at once,” Master Earl said.

“May I call you that when you’re fucking me, sir?” I asked.

“You can call me that anytime you feel like. It makes me feel just a little taller. Officer Masters? Yeah, that’s all right,” he allowed.

Different masters have different ideas about fucking. That doesn’t mean one is better than another. They're just different. Master Earl, I soon learned, was the Cadillac of master fucks. When you were on the receiving end of his cock it was like riding in a Cadillac. You knew you were going to get where you were going in comfort and style. He was what I could best describe as a smooth fucker. No sudden leaps or unaccounted for slams. He was very deft and controlled. He knew where he was going and how he was going to get there. He even mapped out his stops along the way. In short, I never had a man fuck me with as much control or care, but he demanded his slave work as hard as him to get there. He used his slave’s ass most efficiently to get the most feeling from each stroke. Nothing was left to chance.

He was in complete control, and was convinced of his power over me. He demanded his slave give everything to serve his all consuming need. I would have, at that moment, walked through a bed of fire for him and thanked him afterwards for allowing me to please him. He was not against getting way up in there, deep in my ass, and rooting it out like any home boy; but, he expected his slave to work with him to get him off. He would have none of his slave lying back playing Mr. Fun-buns. He expected his slave to have his ass right where it should be when he needed to take a good strong plunge into his slave’s depths. He expected his slave to suck his ass hard on his shaft as he slowly pulled it all the way out only to plunge it in again to the depths of his slave's being.

Officer Earl D. Shaw was a fine man, with a fine large tool, who knew how to use it, how to fuck a slave’s ass, and he pulled out all the stops. He stopped every now and then to correct me on something which was small but important to him. He felt I could do better, and he'd try again. I’d get it right that time. He’d smile and tell me I was a good slave to get it that fast. He demanded I keep my ass right where he could get his best stroke, and I could see by his face he was getting it.

“Officer Masters, sir, I need to tell you something,” I said.

“That you come while getting fucked?” he asked.

“Yes, sir, how’d ju’ know?” I asked.

“I called Jeb and asked his permission before I called you last Monday night. He was thrilled I wanted to have you visit. I told him if you accepted, I had every intention of getting into your butt. If that was against one of his rules I wouldn’t call you. I’d just wait until you were put on the market. He assured me it was fine with him. He gave his blessing for me to fuck the snot out of you, which, I’m working on right now.”

“But, Officer Masters, I can’t always control it; leastwise, not yet; maybe training will help. I don’t want to disappoint you again,” I said.

“I understand, Slave, but it doesn’t present that big a problem. Training will correct it, if not, we can work on it together. For right now, tonight, you do your best not to come, and if I’m convinced you tried your hardest, I’ll allow you come, how’s that?” he asked.

“Thank you, Officer Masters, you’re a good man,” I replied.

“Well, I’ve had enough pleasure fucking for tonight, and we’ve got to get to bed, so master, Officer Masters, is going to shoot his come into your hot little slave ass,” he said. Master Earl started in for his final run to fuck me. He started with a good steady rhythm and moved the pace up a bit when he found another spot he liked fucking. He shifted to fucking faster and harder. "Put that ass up there, Slave. Don’t ever make your master hunt for it. Put it up there for him so he knows he’s welcome to take all he needs and come back for seconds,” he demanded. I was so hot by that time, I began concentrating on each and every stroke, and it paid off. Five or six deep strokes with my ass right there to welcome his stiff shaft up my butt, he broke apart and exploded into my slave hole.

Damn, he was a good fuck and made me work for it, too. I liked that. Part of his getting it was me working hard to make sure my slave-boy ass was at the ready. I knew I’d get better at it. I was finally being used by men who knew how to use another man, a slave, to get what they needed. A master who demands his slave work with him, makes his slave feel more involved in bringing a big piece of meat slamming into him to its full potential. By demanding his slave work with him, a master teaches his slave how he likes his cock to be received into his slave’s hole. It becomes an important element of individual slave training. Training, insisting, demanding a slave work with his master to give him the best possible fuck he can provide for his owner. A master should make damn sure his slave sublimates his own needs (he should be trained well enough his only need is to serve) then patiently teach him what and how he expects him to contribute to his pleasure.

Repeat a particular move you like over and over again until it becomes reflex muscle action; almost like a choreographer works with a dancer. Then repeat it over and over until they get it right. Laugh if you will, but it works the same way. The masters out there who are getting the most bang for their buck are the ones who have taken the time to work with their slaves. He’s not going to know what you want unless you show him. It’s part of discipline, which he craves. It’s good for him, and the ultimate payoff is one Hell of a good fuck. He feels your move coming, he anticipates and reacts to receive you like you’ve trained him every time. No guess work for him. He’s ultimately trained to give you a great fuck. He feels proud and rewarded he can give you the pleasure you will come to demand from him. That’s all he needs, and maybe a pat on the head now and then, but don’t over do it.

Once he’s trained, got it down pat so you’re satisfied with his performance, then demand nothing but his best every time you slam your dick into him. Accept nothing less. If he gets sloppy, start again from zero and make him do it over and over for hours if necessary. I guaran-damn-tee ‘ya he’ll never give you a sloppy fuck again. His only reason for being your slave in the first place is to see to your pleasure. Master Jeb made damn sure his slave trainees would be a certified good fuck on graduation from his class. He'd make them do it over and over until it became second nature for their ass to respond a certain way. He knew most every master’s particular fucking style and needs. He was able to teach any slave to become a competent fuck on the end of his big fat cock. He was a great teacher. He was my friend. He was my first master. Master Earl was a fine master as well.

Somehow, I managed not to come, I was so busy working with Officer Masters, I forgot. “Okay, Slave, you kept your end of the bargain. Now, I’ll keep mine. I want to see for myself if you can come while getting fucked. Since I don’t know your fucking needs yet you’re gonna’ have to guide me. If you need it harder, faster, or deeper, let me know,” he said. With that he started in again, but this time, he didn’t worry about me putting my ass up. He was taking it away from me, and I was getting off on it.

I pulled him to me and whispered to him, “Please, Officer Masters, your slave-boy would very much appreciate you fucking him so hard his eyeballs rattle. That is, if you find me worthy of a good hard fuck’n. Please, Officer Masters," I begged. He didn’t bother to answer, and I think outside of the giant animal, I got the single hardest fucking of my life. I shot all over his chest and mine.

We lay together for a while until he started laughing. “Damn, Slave, that was hot. I think we could come together without much problem, ‘cause I sometimes like to pop my nut with a good hard ride like that. I’m glad you like some good old, down-home hard riding. Your slave butt and Officer Master’s pet snake are gonna’ become good friends,” he said.

I said a prayer of hope.

* * * * * * *
Part II ~The Desert Foxes

“I gathered stars from off the desert’s floor,
My master smiled to see me count them all,
Fallen there from angel’s tears so long ago,
His strong arms reach to catch me when I fall.”
From: Canto 55 ~ Slave Songs~ W. D. Dux ~ Posthumous

Master Earl helped me down from the sling and kissed me again. I fell to my knees and asked permission to clean him. “I need to take a refresher course in Master 101 from Jeb,” he said as he smiled down at me, “I’d forgotten a slave's role and need to clean his master after sex. Of course, Son, you should, as a courtesy to any master. These rituals should always be followed for your sake as well as your master’s. It will encourage imprinting each time. Clean me good,” he commanded.

I cleaned my come from his hairy chest and belly, then moved to his still half hard cock and cleaned it. His foreskin was creeping back over the head of his handsome penis, as it was becoming more flaccid. It was my first time to put my mouth on his cock, and I got my tongue under the head. He was clean, but the wonderful taste was his. It was his signature flavor. I continued to suck and tongue his piss slit sucking bits of come and pre-come. My master had other ideas as he began to gently allow more to enter my throat. I got the idea he was trying not to get hard to work it into my throat as deep as possible. I got about three quarters of him down my throat. I could tell he was impressed as he forced another inch down. I was still trying to take more when I felt his big hand behind my head give a slight tug forward and my lips were touching his pubic hair.

“Easy, slave, that’s enough. Hands to your back and relax. Your master’s gonna’ enjoy this. Ah, there’s nothing sweeter than using your slave-boy for a toilet,” he said and let out a deep sigh. I felt him relieving himself into my gut. He was using me for his personal toilet, and rather than be disgusted, I felt pride he was comfortable enough to empty himself into me. He stopped and began to pull out. I sucked and licked him clean. Officer Masters then ordered me to open my mouth and laid the head of his penis gently on my tongue. “Close your lips around it, Slave. I’ve heard you like the taste of man piss. Is that right, Son?” he asked. I shook my head slightly in agreement. “I held back a little for you to enjoy, but I had to see if what Jeb told me was true. Damned, if it ain’t. Here it is, Son, enjoy,” he said.

My master released about a mouthful and stopped. I swallowed Master Earl’s piss slowly. It was like champagne to me. I nodded my head and he gave me another mouthful. He had only one more for me, and I held it for some time until master ordered me to follow him upstairs. On the way Master Earl asked me a question, but I didn’t answer. He turned around on the stairs and smiled at me. “You will swallow, please,” he ordered. I blushed, did as ordered and smiled sheepishly. He roared with laughter. “Come on, Son, let’s go to bed. We’re both exhausted,” he said.

I slept the dream of angels while feeling, full, warm, well fucked, secure, and comfortable being held in the arms of my master.

* * * * * * *
Saturday morning Master Earl was up early, but he let me sleep for a while. I awoke to a beautiful view of Silverlake and the surrounding area. I got up quickly to see if I could help. Master had juice ready and ordered me to jump into the shower. He wanted to get me ready, so I could help him. I did as he ordered, but didn’t hose out because I wanted to hold his come in me. I got out, toweled off, and reported back to the kitchen.

“Perfect timing, boy. To the bedroom,” he ordered. We went to the bedroom. He had my plug cleaned and lightly greased, snap his fingers, and pointed to the bed. I wasn’t sure what he wanted me to do. “I’m sorry, that’s an order to hit the position. Ass right at the edge of the bed, grab your legs, and pull ‘em down almost to your chest and slightly out to give your Master instant access to your hole. That’s one of the few times you’ll hear me snap my fingers at you because I want you that way yesterday, understand, Son?” he asked.

“Yes, Master,” I said following his order.

“Did you hose out, Slave?” he asked.

“No, Master, I wanted to leave your seed in me,” I replied.

“And, well you should. Good answer, boy. Ass a little higher, Slave, don’t ever make your master have to reach for it,” he said. I raised my ass. He grabbed the big plug and snapped it in faster than any one previously. ‘Damn, he’s good,’ I thought, ‘A true master for sure. With no hesitation he plugged my ass.’ Master Earl turned to wipe his hands on a towel. I still had my ass in the air. He wiped my ass around the plug to get any excess lubricant cleaned up.

“Lower you ass a little, Slave,” he ordered and pressed on the base. My plug sunk in a little further. “On your knees, on the bed, Slave,” he commanded. I got on my knees and he grabbed me around the waist with one big arm. Damn, he smelled good. He held me tight and pressed in again on the base. “Push back, please,” he ordered. I pushed back and as he pushed I felt the big plug lock into place. “It finally seated, didn’t it, Son?” he asked.

“Yes, sir, that’s the way it should feel. That’s why everyone talks about seating it, and I thought it was just a game,” I replied.

“No, Son, that’s the way a slave should be plugged if done properly. I just happen to know how,” he said with pride.

“Thank you, Master.” I fell to his feet and kissed one big boot then the other.

“I like that action, Slave. Any time I snap my fingers and point to my boots you’ll know what to do, right?” he asked.

“Yes, sir, but do I just kiss them or start cleaning them?” I asked.

“Good question, Slave. What you did just then will be fine. As a matter of fact I liked it so much, I’d like to see it again,” he said. He snapped his finger real loud and pointed to his boots. I again fell to his feet and kissed each boot except on the last one I did get in a couple of good licks with my tongue. “I saw that, Slave, but I won’t fault you. In a way, it’s a compliment,” he said quietly as he stooped down and pulled my head up to attach his leash to his dog collar around my neck. Holding my leash, he pulled me to his face and kissed me hard. “Good morning, Slave. You make me proud today, understand?” he asked.

“I will, sir, I promise. I’m proud to be your slave, Master,” I assured him.

He looked me in the eyes and quickly kissed me again. “Now, pull on your chaps and boots and nothing else,” he said. I quickly followed his order and joined him in the kitchen. “Go to my office and call Jeb," Master Earl said, "I think he knew you’d be staying the weekend and wanted you to call. His number is on a pad on the desk, but before you go, slowly turn around for me. Good. Now the other way. Fine. Go on,” he said with a big grin on his handsome face.

I went to Master Earl’s office and dialed the number. “Hello,” answered a deep ominous voice. It was Big Jim. My heart leaped to my throat, then melted, and ran down into the pit of my stomach.

“Hello, Master Jim. It's Beau calling for Master Jeb. Is he available to speak with me, sir?” I asked in a polite conversational tone.

“Good to hear your voice again, Slave-boy, and how goes it with you?” he asked.

“I’m fine, Master, thank you for asking, sir,” I replied courteously.

“The answer is still 'yes,' Son,” he said.

“Me too, Master Jim, me, too,” I replied. He hesitated for a minute, and I could tell it wasn’t the answer he was hoping for.

“One minute, and I’ll get Jeb for you,” he said without further comment.

“Thank you, Master Jim,” I said without nuance.

“Hello,” Master Jeb said.

“This is your slave calling, Master,” I said. He was noticeably silent for a moment.

“I needed to hear that this morning. Thank you, Son,” he said.

“For speaking the truth, Master?” I asked.

“Yes, well, you’re no dummy. You know damn well what I mean,” he replied.

I laughed to lighten the mood. “I do, indeed, sir. I apologize for playing with you, Master Jeb.”

“Nonsense, keeps me on my toes. Enough of that, now, spill!” he ordered.

“I’m being well cared for, Master Jeb,” I said.

I heard him giggle. “Damn it, Beau, you’re yanking my chain. The first time I get my whip on you, I’m going to remind you of your disrespect for your old master. Now you know what I’m talking about, cut to the chase, Kid, before your old master has a coronary.”

“Forgive me, Master, I’m afraid I have too much piss and vinegar in me this morning. More of the former, less of the latter,” I laughed.

“So Earl didn’t believe me, huh? Thought the old man was exaggerating? he asked rhetorically, "Good for him,” he said. We shared a laugh

“Does Master Jim know where I’m calling from?” I asked.

“I haven’t discussed it with him, but I think he has an idea. I won’t tell him unless he asks. I’m not going to lie to him. He won’t ask. I think he has an idea but doesn’t want it confirmed.”

“I wouldn’t want you to lie to him either, Master Jeb,” I said.

“Okay, what else?” he asked.

“Well, I’m currently under house arrest. I can’t go home, and I can’t come to your house this weekend. I have Master Earl’s dog collar around my neck, his plug in my ass, my chaps and boots on and, oh yes, I have a leash hanging from my collar, all of which, I’m very proud,” I said.

“You damn well should be proud, boy. You walk as tall as you can for that man. He’s one of the finest men I know, and you’re to please him anyway you can. You be on your best slave behavior. If he wants to show you off to some friends look to him for cues. He’ll let you know what he expects. He keeps his slave well disciplined. You could use a little of that; do you good. He likes to show off his slave, and have them jump through hoops to entertain his guest. Don’t over do and embarrass him, just be ready and don’t hesitate to obey even the smallest order, especially in front of his friends. It’s very important. You’ll do just fine, I’m sure. It’s the old mother hen or ‘fatherly master’ in me which makes me say those things,” Master Jeb said and laughed.

“I’ll obey, Master Jeb, with pride, sir,” I assured him.

“You’ll probably be there ‘til Sunday evening, if he lets you go then. Stay with him, Son, he needs you right now.”

“I feel it, too, Master Jeb. Some very strange things have happened I need to sort out with you. Things I don’t understand. It’s nothing about Master Earl it’s... ”

“Ghosts hanging around, boy?” he asked.

“Yes, sir, exactly. Don’t want to go into it further right now, but I’ll call first chance I get. Sunday evening if he sends me home,” I replied.

“He won’t. You’re the first he’s had since Wes. If I know Earl, and I do, he’s drinking you up like a tall, cool glass of water.”

“I would agree with that analogy, sir.”

“Just remember, my good slave...” he started.

“I could do worse for a master than Master Earl, but I couldn't do better,” I finished his sentence.

“It’s not nice to mock your new owner, boy,” he said in jest.

“Indeed, Master Jeb, it was disrespectful. I trust you will correct that flaw in my nature,” I said humbly.

“Not your sense of whimsy, Son, it’s a delight. You’ll learn what I want you to know, other things will be discussed, but you will ultimately do it my way. You’ll begin to see it’s the only way.”

“Yes, Master, I’m looking forward to it."

"Now if he invites you back for next weekend you tell him he’ll have to check with me. I think I want you here next weekend. He needs to skip a weekend. Trust me with this one, Son. I know you probably might want to return next weekend,” he said almost as a question.

I was quiet for a moment. “I’ll obey, Master Jeb,” I said quietly. I heard Jeb suck his breath, afraid he offended me.

“You’re really taken with him, aren’t you, Beau?” he asked.

“Does the term ‘ton of bricks’ mean anything to you, Master?” I asked. It was my time to sigh deeply. “Forgive me, Master, you’re right, and I trust your judgment. I’ll obey in good spirits,” I said.

“Now, that’s the slave I’ve come to know. You will become a joy to some good master. Maybe even Officer Shaw. Let’s hope. Do you think you might be comfortable being his property?” he asked.

“In a heartbeat, Master Jeb,” I replied.

“Look at it this way, Beau, you’re here next weekend, he may use you the following and perhaps the last weekend before you enter training. That’s fair isn’t it? Then during your training every master who’s serious about bidding on you will be allowed one weekend with you. Maybe two depending on when you feel you’re ready. See, I haven’t forgotten our agreement. Earl D. may have a weekend with you as well because I know he’s interested.”

“I agree, Master. I would enjoy spending next weekend in your arms,” I said.

Jeb was quiet again then he laughed. “You know, if anyone else said that to me, I would know I was having smoke blown up my ass, but you? Well, I know you mean what you say, and it’s part of your gift, Beau. Don’t ever lose it, Son, speak from your heart, and you’ll be right every time,” Master Jeb said.

“Master, the truth of your words have been proven to me several times this weekend, and I have followed your advice. It's worked every time.”

“You better get back to your master, Son. Thanks for calling,” he said.

“My pleasure master, and Master Jeb... ?”

“Yes, Beau?”

“I love you.”

“Thank you, Son, and I’ll see you next weekend”

“Goodbye, Master Jeb.”

“Goodbye.”

‘Master Jeb needs me next weekend.’ I thought to myself. I could hear it in his voice. I’ll try to spend more time with him and hope Big Jim doesn’t monopolize me. I say that now, but when I walk through the door and see that giant ugly man, I probably will melt and run down into my boots. I wondered what he meant by, ‘The answer is still yes?’ I’ve always had trouble playing games with people and the cryptic things they say. They toss out words like they were making a salad. Their words are so vague they could mean anything. Why do they bother? Why don’t they just say what they mean and how they really feel? Why don’t they speak from their hearts, and not their head. Did Big Jim say that to test the water? To find out if he can still push my buttons? Well, I hope he’s happy, because he succeeded. It worked, but to be honest, my answer was just as cryptic. It meant nothing. ‘Me, too.’ Me, too, what? Still believe in love at first sight? E’aup, still do. Two word salads; heavy fiber, empty calories. A metaphorical food fight?

I didn’t give him a Hell of a lot. Maybe that’s his way of asking for more? Then let him be the big man he presents himself to be, man-up and say plainly what he means. Maybe I’m expecting too much of him? Stop! Don’t go there, Beau. You’ve gone down that road before, and it leads to the pits. Follow your heart, Kid. Its been working for you so far. Maybe Kenny Rogers was right, sometime you hold ‘em, sometime you gotta’ fold ‘em, but I would add for God’s sake don’t let them see your hand until they call. At least Master Earl is up front. He lets his wishes be known, he doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve, but he says enough to let you know where you stand with him. I walked into the kitchen and apologized for being so long. Master Earl was busy and showed me a couple of things to do. “How is the master?” he asked. He emphasized ‘the’ as a sign of respect.

“He seemed fine and in good spirits, sir,” I replied.

“Good, I have to get dressed, but I’ll be back in a minute. If the doorbell rings, let my guests in, and introduce yourself as Beau, Master Earl’s weekend slave, get them a drink if you think you can or suggest they make it themselves if you don’t know how. Are you comfortable with that, boy?” he asked.

“To tell them I’m your weekend slave? Yes, sir, I just wish I didn’t have to use the word ‘weekend,’” I lamented.

“Good point, then don’t. If it needs to be explained we can later,” he said. I fell to his feet and kissed each boot.

“Thank you, sir,” I said.

“That was important to you, wasn’t it, Slave?” he asked.

“Yes, sir, I guess I’d like to live the fantasy for a while, whether it comes true or not. I’m proud to think of myself as your slave, sir. I’ll walk a little taller, too, Officer Masters,” I said.

He smiled at me knowingly. “Good, Slave, damn good,” Earl replied. He left to change his clothes.

I did the small jobs in the kitchen he asked of me and got a glass of water. The doorbell rang. Show time. I didn’t know whether to see if he was coming, but I wasn’t going to hesitate following his order. I started for the door. I opened it and stood for a moment while the two fine looking mature gentlemen put their teeth back in their mouths. I guess I wasn’t the person they expected to meet them at the door from the surprised look on their faces.

“Please come in, sirs, my name is Beau, and I am Master Earl D.’s new slave,” I said.

The first one looked at me, opened his arms, and enveloped me in a big bear hug. “Welcome to the family, boy,” he said with tears in his eyes, “I’m Oscar,” the smaller man said, hugged and kissed me.

“Well, damn, if he gets a hug, so do I,” the bigger man said. He looked like a mature body builder, picked me up in his huge arms, swung me around, set me down, looked me in the eye, then offered his hand. “Beau, I’m Billy. You are, indeed, welcome to our family,” he said and stole a kiss. He looked at my crotch, moved his hand toward it, and looked up, “May I, Son?” he asked.

“You don’t need to ask, sir,” I said. I hit parade rest and threw my hips toward him. He gently felt my penis, then gently examined my low hangers. He whistled. “They’re beautiful, Beau. You are a strikingly handsome young man,” he said.

“Thank you, sir,” I replied.

Oscar was watching, “I wanna’ feel the other end,” he said. I turned my backside to him and grabbed my ankles. Damn, Billy, would you look at that! Earl’s already got him wearing a plug. Looks good, Son, let me take a quick feel,” he said. He pushed in on the base a little. “Billy, he’s got it seated all the way. It’s locked in tight,” Oscar said with awe.

“You know Earl. If he’s gonna’ do it, it’s gotta be done right,” Billy allowed.

“Who does he look like, Billy? Could be his brother...” Oscar asked.

“Too easy, brother. A dead ringer for the cowboy,” Billy replied.

“My thinking exactly. Uncanny ain’t it, but I think he’s just a bit bigger than Cowboy.”

“Hard to tell. Just as pretty though,” Billy said.

I was blushing and listening. About the time I raised up, Master Earl came back into the living room, and he was stunning. He was wearing a pair of leather pants with a cod piece, his knee high Wesco boots, and a pure white Mexican peasant shirt. It was a pull over which had an open V at the neck and showed off just enough of his chest hair to be sexy. He was drop dead handsome. At that moment, I was proud to claim I belonged to someone as stunningly good looking as Master Earl even if it was only for the weekend.

“I see you’ve met my new slave-boy, Beau,” he said as he walked over and kissed me on the forehead, then put his arm around me.

“Master Earl, why didn’t you tell us?” Oscar asked, “You damn near had to call the paramedics. Us two old slaves almost had coronaries when this gorgeous young man-slave open the door for us. I asked Billy if we had the right address,” Oscar said.

“Yes, our handsome master, you know you can tell us anything. For a minute I thought Dan and Cowboy were visiting,” Billy added.

“He does look more than a little like the cowboy, don’t he?” Master Earl asked and smiled,”It’s a long story you’ll hear today. But it’s best if we tell it a bit at a time.”

“Master Earl, may I ask Mr. Billy a question?” I asked. Billy didn’t wait for Master Earl to reply.

“Of course you can, Son,” he replied.

I still looked up at Master Earl and he nodded. “Sir, you look so much like a boyhood hero of mine. I carried a picture of him hidden in my wallet seven years in Vietnam. His name was Clancey McGee. Are you related to him? Do you know him?” I asked.

“You put him up to this, didn’t you?” Billy asked and shot a look at Master Earl with a grin.

“You’ll learn. He’s polite, humble, unassuming, but when he comes out with something, I’ve learned the hard way not to challenge him because it comes from his heart. If he said he carried your picture seven years in Vietnam, you can take it to the bank, and no, I didn’t put him up to it,” Master Earl replied.

“Son, I am Clancey McGee,” he said, grabbed me, and hugged me.

“Sir, you don’t know how many times I’ve had sex with you. I jacked off every night looking at pictures of you and thinking, ‘God, if I could just lie in that man’s arms one night and suck his tits, I wouldn’t have to go to heaven.’ When I was in Nam I’d get your picture out, look at it, and wonder what you were doing as I jacked off,” I said.

“I don’t know when I ever got a nicer compliment, Beau,” Billy replied.

“He seems to have that effect on a lot of people, including me,” Master Earl said.

“I still have your picture in my wallet,” I told him.

“Don’t look at me, Billy. If he says he has it in his wallet, it’s there,” Master Earl confirmed.

“May I be excused, Master, and I’ll get it?” I asked.

“Sure, Son,” he replied.

I went to the small bedroom and got my wallet from my leather pants and walked back into the living room. Master Earl was making Bloody Marys and asked if I wanted one. I declined. I have stuff in my wallet I’ve had for years. I looked in my secret place under a leather flap you wouldn’t notice if you didn’t know was there. I gently unfolded the precious piece of paper and saw Clancey hitting a great pose and smiling at me. Billy moved behind me and looked over my shoulder.

“Well, God love him, if he don’t still have it. Son, this old slave is blown away,” Billy said.

“Me, too, sir. I still would love to spend a night in your arms. Only with my good master’s blessing, of course. God must have brought us together for a reason,” I said.

Billy was giddy. “Is he for real, Master Earl?” he asked.

“The most real person your likely to meet in a while, and he’s mine,” Master Earl said, winked at me and grinned real big for his friends.

“We couldn’t be more thrilled,” Oscar said with enthusiasm.

“Don’t get too thrilled yet. There are hurtles we have to jump, but we’re talking about it, right Slave?” he asked.

“Yes, sir, Master,” I agreed.

“Have you taken him to Master Jeb, Master Earl?” Billy asked.

“You could say that,” Master Earl replied and winked at me reminding me of the police escort to Mt. Washington.

“Master Jeb’s opinion, sir?” Oscar asked.

“A natural,” Master Earl replied.

“I thought so the minute I walked through the door,” Billy said.

“Me, too,” Oscar agreed, “That ain’t bad, Beau,” Oscar said, “In fact it will be so much easier for you than it would be for someone else to become a slave. It was for Billy and me. We love you for wanting to explore it for yourself. You’re in the right group of men, not only to find a fine, loving, and trustworthy master, but also to gain a large wonderful family and enjoy a rewarding life.”

“Amen to that,” Billy added, “I was with the same master for forty years until he passed away several years ago. As far as our opinions are concerned, don’t bother to look any further, you’re with the right master,” he said.

“Thanks, guys,” Master Earl said to them, “If you men want to get comfortable, feel free,” he said.

“God!” Billy sounded exasperated, “We thought this was part of your torture keeping us dressed,” Billy said with a laugh, “Come on, Bro,” Billy said and motioned for Oscar to follow.

I set my billfold on the bar and sat on a bar stool. Master Earl came to me and put his arms around me. “I’m so proud of you I could rape your pretty ass right here in front of them. You scored some major points with that picture. Billy thinks you’re a little bit of all right. Way to go, Slave,” Master Earl whispered as he bussed a kiss behind my ear.

“You’re my master. If you wish to rape me I’ll struggle and put on a show for them,” I replied with a smile.

“You really would, wouldn’t you?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t hesitate to obey your order, sir, but what if they have strokes, sir?” I asked.

Master Earl whooped, and we shared a laugh. “Good thinking, Slave, we wouldn’t want that on our conscience. You made Billy’s day,” he said.

“Billy made my day as well, Master,” I replied.

The two men walked back in the room with no clothes. They were buffed physically with no fat on them anywhere, but the most stunning part was, there was absolutely nothing between their legs; no penis or balls. They weren’t the least bit shy about it either. They walked over to Master Earl and knelt before him. They each proceeded to kiss one of his boots. He offered a hand to each, they kissed the back of it, and placed it to their forehead. They held it there for a minute. “Welcome, good slaves to our home. We bid you welcome. You're safe within this place. Arise and show this master your love,” he commanded.

I was stunned. Not by their lack of equipment but by the ceremony. It was unbelievably touching. I was even more proud of Master Earl as commanding and genuine as he was. He believed the words he said, and they obviously did, too. I was deeply touched.

“We might as well get this over with,” Billy said, “Beau, you’re a perfect gentleman not to stare, but you certainly may and ask us any question which might come to your mind. We will answer you as honestly as we can,” he said.

“I’m not shy, but I don’t have any questions right now. I’d love to get to know you men better, but I’ll find out what I need to know as we get acquainted,” I said.

“He’s not for real,” Oscar said grinning from ear to ear.

“Of course he is, Oscar. He’s a brother for Christ sake. Remember us, when we first met? We couldn’t believe each other was for real,” Billy gently chastised him

“Good point. I apologize, Beau. I was just kidding, anyway,” Oscar said.

“I know, Oscar, no apology necessary,” I replied.

“Hey, hey, hey, guys, can I get into this conversation?” Master Earl asked.

“Take a number, Master Earl,” Oscar said. We all laughed.

“It’s gonna’ be one of those day, huh? I have a nice wide belt downstairs with your name on it, Oscar,” Master Earl said laughing.

“Dear God!” Oscar put the back of his hand to the side of his mouth as if to whisper only to me but loud enough everyone could hear, “Please, Beau, start crying or tell him I truly hurt your feelings. Anything! Work with me, kid, but get me the feel of that belt,” he said with some urgency.

We roared with laughter and Master Earl hugged Oscar. “Don’t ever change,” he told the big man.

“Not much chance of that for this tired old slave with no master,” Oscar said poignantly.

“No time for remorse, Dear Brother. I think,” Billy said, “it’s going to be a fucking fantastic day. We have much to be thankful for and much to celebrate with the prospect of a new union for our beloved master and his new slave. And, you,” Billy said holding his arms out to Master Earl, “look at you. You have the glow of a prepubescent boy who just got his first blow job,” he said wickedly. Everyone laughed.

“Beau, will you give me a hand?” Master Earl asked, “You guys can grab something, too. You know the drill. I run an equal opportunity kitchen. We’ll get this food to the deck and have brunch. We can talk while we eat,” Master Earl ordered.

Everyone grabbed something and we walked out into the beautiful California sunshine. Master Earl’s decks were so private no one could see you if you walked around nude. I didn’t noticed in the dark, but on the third level was a pool. Then the dungeon must be an old pool changing room or cabana as they’re called. It was a beautiful layout, and you could see forever. We ate a leisurely brunch. Oscar and Billy relaxed after a couple of Bloody Marys and were having a great time. We were getting to know one another. They couldn’t ask me enough questions. I answered their questions, but when they began to ask about Nam, Master Earl came to my rescue. “Guys, Beau didn’t have it too well over there, and he has a hard time talking about it. He doesn’t want to put you off, he just can’t. Maybe someday he will, but I’m not going to push him,” he said.

They apologized, but I assured them not to worry, "I just haven’t been able to talk about it much. I don’t know if I ever will be able to. If I do, it will probably be with Master Earl or Master Jeb. I can talk about bits and pieces, but if I get going, I’m a vegetable for days afterward. It’s not pretty. I told Master Jeb a few things, because he’s so easy to talk with. He’s like talking to the dad I never had,” I said.

“Have you fallen in love with Master Jeb, Beau?” Billy asked.

“He’s becoming important to me, sir, and yes, I have thought about it. I ain’t afraid to admit I'm falling in love him,” I replied quietly.

Billy reached over and grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “So did we, Son, so did we,” he said in a reverent way.

“He’s been a saint to me,” Oscar added.

Master Earl just raised his hand as if to say count me in. I got up to start carrying plates and dishes into the house. Billy helped as Oscar and Master Earl talked. We finished and were about to return to the deck when Billy accidentally knocked my wallet onto the floor. Stuff from my wallet went everywhere. Billy apologized and helped me pick up everything. He came across an old photo of me and my little buddy, David, in Nam. “Is this you, Beau?" he asked

“Yes, sir. It’s me and David, my closest buddy in Nam. We were inseparable. We were more than just close, we were lovers until he was shipped back. I lost touch with him, and I never saw him again. I looked for David after I got back, but I never found him,” I said.

“May I show this to Oscar and Master Earl, Beau?” he asked quietly like he was almost in awe of the picture.

“Sure, Billy,” I replied. I finished in the kitchen and returned to my seat to finish my fruit.

“I don’t want to be overly dramatic, but you men must see this picture. This is Beau and his closest buddy, David, in Vietnam,” Billy said handing Master Earl and Oscar the picture. They looked at it, looked at Billy, then looked at me. Master Earl’s face lost all color. He was white as a sheet for some reason.

Oscar’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, my, God!” he exclaimed quietly.

“You all right, Master Earl, Oscar?” Billy asked.

“Yeah, we were gonna’ tell you two about some weird stuff that happened here last night that turned my head around. Now this... it all fits somehow. The pieces are coming together. It makes perfect sense,” Master Earl said.

“Something wrong with my picture, Master?” I asked.

“He really doesn’t know,” Master Earl said, “That’s how he is. He hasn’t put two and two together. If he did, you’d be able to tell. Let me ask you, Beau, who is this in the picture with you?” he asked.

“My buddy who caused my accident last night, Master, David Johnson. We were pretty close. Hell, to be honest, we were lovers in Nam. I lost touch with him after he returned to the States. I re-enlisted and did another four years. David went home. We wrote for a while. I still have his letters. I don’t know were he is now. I was a medic in Nam, a field corpsman. I stayed behind with a squad to save as many wounded as we could, but we got ambushed. We ran off into the jungle, and I got separated from the army guys. I wandered in the swamp and jungle for a couple of days ‘til I found a dry cave under some brush. That evening I saw fires, thought it was our guys, and eased up to see.

“Well, it wasn’t our guys, it was a Charley camp and right in front of me, less the six feet away was a bamboo cage with the cutest small American G.I. I’d seen in Nam. He looked in my eyes with horror. I smiled at him and put my finger to my lips for him to be quiet. It was a Cong POW holding camp; a makeshift job. They kept the guys in three foot square bamboo cages. When things got quiet, I cut David out of his cage, and we silently made off to the cave I found nearby. I left him there and told him I’d be back. I went back and got five more out before dawn. I returned with one of the guys for the seventh man, but he was already dead from wounds and neglect. “David was pretty scared. He was shaking so bad I thought he might go into shock. Hell, Master Earl, we all were scared shitless. We were just kids out of high school for Christ sake. I started comforting him trying to get him to calm down, and one thing led to another," I said.

I started to get tears in my eyes telling them my story. Master Earl had tears running down his cheeks. Billy and Oscar were both crying.

“Did I say something wrong, Master?" I asked.

“No, Son, not at all,” he replied. He handed me the picture across the table. “Was this the guy you saw in the bedroom last night?” he asked.

“Naw, sir, that little guy was buffed out to the max. My little buddy, David, was a cute little guy and never failed to push my buttons, but that little dude last night had a body by God. He was hot, sir,” I replied. Billy and Oscar were still visibly shaken. Master Earl got up and told me to wait, he’d be back in a minute. He returned with two photos. He handed me one of a young soldier in camo fatigues. It was my buddy, David.

“That’s David, sir. Where’d ju’ get this?” I asked. I was confused. Master Earl handed me another picture, and it was the guy who appeared to me in his bedroom last night. “This is the guy in the bedroom last night, Master Earl,” I said.

“Look at the pictures closely, Beau,” Master Earl said. I studied them for a moment and I began to notice David looked a little like the buffed out dude. No, it couldn’t be? God wouldn’t do that to me. Chills ran up my spine then crawled over my head. Wes was David. He was within walking distance from me for several years. I broke down. Master Earl came to me, got on his knees, hugged me, and we started to bawl. I hurt all over. I was in anguish, but I didn’t give a shit who knew. I never lost it that bad. I was a mess. When we recovered a bit, we migrated to sitting in the middle of the deck with our arms around each other for comfort as we shared a common unifying bond.

“But why, David Johnson?” I said quietly directed to no one in particular.

“Remember, I briefly told you about Walker Johnson who was Wes’ savior. He saved Wes from his father. Wes used the Johnson name until he got out of Vietnam and then went back to his family name of ‘Dux’ because he still loved his grandparents on his mother’s side. They were the folks who he was going back to visit as well as the Johnson family. All through the military he went by the name David Johnson. Then he met Jeb and Jeb talked him into going back to his original name of Wesley Dux to heal old wounds. Jeb was right. It went a long way toward Wes finding his place in the world,” Master Earl explained.

“But, Master, Billy and Oscar are gonna' think I’m a fruit cake. David came to me and made love to me last night. I wasn’t making it up. The man he took me to was his dad, Walker Johnson, I’m sure of it.”

“God as my witness, Son, I believe you,” Master Earl held up his hand in solemn oath.

He briefly recounted the story to Oscar and Billy about me being strapped down tight and leaving me to marinate with two quarts of soapy water up my ass. "When I came back, I discovered Beau shot his load all over the place; like someone was there and had sex with him a couple of times. I came down a little hard on him, but I wondered how the Hell could he have come, not once but twice, when his hands were strapped down tight. I even checked to make sure. Then he told me how it happened. I believed him then, and I believe him now,” Master Earl said firmly.

“David told me something, sir,” I said.

“What’s that Beau?” Master Earl asked

“When we were in Nam, he taught me a mental trick where you can move outside your body and enter a safe room where there’s no pain, discomfort, or anxiety of any kind. He always told me, if I needed him, to go to the room, and he would find me. He told me about his dad abusing him, and the fourth or fifth time a shining man came to him and showed him how to get to this room so he wouldn’t be in pain. When he demonstrated his ability to me in Nam, I could stick a hat pin through his hand, and he wouldn’t feel a thing. I never did, it’s just if you did, he wouldn’t feel it. Anyway, he taught me how to get there and once or twice when we really had some killer weed, he would take me there. We would make love in a place one step this side of reality.

“We shared the sweetest love, then he would bring me back. I would insist it was just a pot induced lucid dream, but I would have come in my pants. David wouldn’t because he couldn’t. I think his penis was too fucked up from what his old man did to him. That didn’t stop him from letting me have my way with him. I’m sorry, Master, but it was sweet, the sweetest love I ever knew,” I said. I broke down and cried again. “I’m sorry, Master Earl, I know this must be painful for you to hear, but it was before you knew him as Wes,” I added.

“Beau, forget me, forget us, forget them, let it out. Say whatever your heart tells you. Nothing you say could damage the feelings I have for you at this moment. I’m sure that goes for Billy and Oscar,” Master Earl assured me.

“Double it, Beau,” Oscar said quietly.

“Yeah, me, too,” Billy said softly.

Oscar got up. “I need a drink,” he said. Billy and Master Earl held their hands up to Oscar. Okay, and Beau, you’re getting one whether you want it or not. You need to calm down, and we’re here to listen and help. What da’ ya’ drink, Son?” Oscar asked.

“Anything with Vodka,” Master Earl replied.

Now, how did he know that? I didn't have a drink since I got there. Ah, yes, he asked Master Jeb because he wanted to have what I drink available. Very nice of him. I liked him better by the hour.

“You know,” Master Earl said, “Wes rarely spoke of Vietnam, but I remember when he did, it was always in the context of his buddy... oh, my God, his buddy, Andy or Beau, who saved his life. It just came back to me. He said Beau taught him to read and write poetry. He said he fell very much in love with him. He was like a big brother he never had. He told me if it hadn’t been for you, he would never made it through. He said you re-enlisted, and he came home. He tried for years to find you. He desperately wanted me to meet you,” Master Earl paused for a moment. “Then I was right last night. He’s somehow managed to get us together, and the rest is up to us.”

“I was in such discomfort last night I’m glad he came to me,” I said.

“I’m sorry, Son, I guess I’m starting you off a little rough, but please remember, I haven’t been a master for almost four years now,” Master Earl said.

“I’m not complaining, Master, I wanted to please you, but I knew I wasn’t going to make it unless I could remember what David taught me. All of a sudden a hand appeared out of nowhere and grabbed my soul or that part of me which can leave my body and pulled me into the room. It was David. It was so good to see him. He told me he was dead, but he wasn’t going to desert me because I saved his life. If I hadn’t he never would have found the one true love of his life, and for that, he would always be grateful. He didn’t tell me about you, Master. I guess he thought we’d figure it out. Then it was David who listened to me last night. He was buffed out to the max. Damn, he looked good, but he didn’t tell me he was David. He didn’t tell me his name, but I knew I knew him,” I related to them.

By this time we were sitting on the deck, I was leaning up against Master Earl. He slipped his arms around me with his hands resting in my lap. “I forgot something,” I said.

“What’s that, Beau?” Master Earl asked.

“Wes said for you to go to your desk. Open the pencil drawer near the top, feel along the left hand side, and there you will feel a button. Press it and a secret drawer will open. You’ll find some things for both of us in the drawer,” I replied.

Excited we followed Master Earl to his office. With the pencil drawer pulled out Master Earl felt up underneath. “It’s here, I can feel it. Here goes,” he said. Master Earl pressed the button and a drawer popped open right under the top of the desk. You wouldn’t know it was there it was so well disguised. In the drawer was two envelopes with Master Earl’s name hand printed on each as Officer & Master Earl D. Shaw. He held the envelopes up for me to see.

“Does the title ring a bell, Beau?” he asked.

“Sweet Jesus!” I exclaimed softly, “Officer Master.”

“We’ll explain later,” Master said to Billy and Oscar.

The two envelopes to Master Earl were marked differently. One had no instructions which we assumed could be opened now. The second said to only be opened in the presence of Master Jeb Henshaw. There was an envelope addressed to Master Jeb Henshaw. There was a letter size envelope and a larger one that felt like it contained a small book. My complete name Andrew Beaureguard James Jr. was hand printed in David/Wes’s handwriting. I ripped open the envelope and pulled a book out. It was a hand written chapbook of poetry entitled “Slave Songs.” I taught David to write poetry in Nam, and he started a journal there, but this was remarkable. It far surpassed his teacher. The words were liquid metaphors that jumped off the page as I silently read several of the cantos.

“Gentlemen, this is the stuff of a quiet genius,” I declared. Most of it was extremely personal and related to Master Earl. He was moved to tears by a couple of simple lines which referred to him as being the keeper of Wes’ soul. Billy and Oscar were fit to be tied.

“Do you men realize the ramifications of all this?” Billy exclaimed.

I looked at him and asked, “Why do you think you’re here, Billy?” I asked.

“What do you mean, Beau?” Billy asked bemused.

“You’re here to be an observer. Would you believe this if you hadn’t been here to witness it? I can’t believe you’re here by accident, so logic dictates you have a greater role to play in all of this. Were you and Oscar close to Wes?” I asked.

“We were very close. He shared many things with Oscar and me. To play any kind of role right now with you and Master Earl, couldn’t make me happier. I’ve become so staid since George died. I don’t know what to do with myself. When you have a master to tell you everything to do for forty years, you miss his direction. I never had to think for myself. All I had to do was work on my body, take care of George, and pleasure him the best I could. Aside from bodybuilding, it's the only thing in my life I every really did well, and it’s only because he had the patience to take a kid off the streets of Hollywood with no future and train him how to please him. I knew what I was getting into. He never lied to me. He was always up front with me. I miss him terribly,” Billy said and started to cry. Oscar and I were comforting him.

“I mentioned to you a while ago I didn’t think our meeting was a fluke," I encouraged and consoled Billy, "I think we’ve come together for a reason. It’s too perfect, you being my childhood hero and meeting today. What are the chances or the odds of that happening? They odds must be astronomical against such a thing. What are the chances Master Earl’s deceased slave was my buddy and lover in Nam? David or Wes was the only man I ever shared your picture with, Billy. He had to know there was a connection. What are the chances I met Master Jeb? Spookier yet, is meeting Master Earl. He pulled me over for speeding on my bike, then ended up escorting me to Master Jeb’s with flashing lights, siren blaring, and the whole nine yards.

“I used to think we had free will. I still do. Except now, I'm convinced that friends, loved ones, and relatives watch over us and are capable of guiding us in certain directions toward goals they feel would be good for us. We still have the choices to say ‘yea’ or ‘nay’ but we may be more highly influence by the spirits of loved ones than anyone may have suspected. It all seems too neat. It’s bringing all the parts of the puzzle together, but it seems to be nailing home a point maybe I’m missing or don’t want to see.”

“Well, Hell, maybe it’s because I’m the simplest one here, but it seems obvious to me. He loved the two of you, and wanted you to be together. So far he’s done pretty damn well, I’d say,” Oscar allowed.

“Then what about self-will and two people falling in love without help?” I asked Billy.

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, Beau,” Oscar continued, “Wes, if you’re listening, I like mine about six-four, doesn’t have to be good looking or rich, just demanding as Hell with a very large whip, and a comfortable cock who’s only dream or goal in life is to fuck a eunuch to death,” he spoke to an unseen friend. We laughed. Oscar was funny but partially serious.

Billy continued, “I lived as a total slave to a man who made every decision for me and him. Thank God I had the sense to let him. I wouldn’t be anybody today with out George. He left me well off and able to do anything I please. Free will? No thanks, I’d rather have my master back telling me what to do,” Billy added, “I’m sometimes miserable without him. If it wasn’t for Master Earl, Master Jeb, and several others, Oscar and I would have done a “Thelma and Louise” and driven off a cliff somewhere long ago,” Billy lamented.

“Well, you guys looked after me when Wes was killed, so it works out,” Master Earl said, “I’ll never forget what our family did for me. I’d like Beau to experience our family that way, too. I don’t think Jeb has told him too much about the family, and maybe it’s best I don’t, ‘cause he enters training under Jeb in three weeks.”

“Oh, Beau, I wish I were you and could go through slave training again. I was one of Master Jeb’s first group of slaves he trained, and let me tell you, don’t resist the man. You’ll fall so deep in love with him, you’ll think your heart is going to brake when you have to say goodbye, but you’ll survive. You’ll never stop loving the man. As time goes by, you’ll realize you never really said goodbye. He’s a constant influence on your life. I have never stopped loving him,” Billy said

“Me either,” Oscar echoed.

“Count me in on that one,” Master Earl agreed.

“Is Beau going to be put on the market or have you issued a claim for him to be sold directly to you?” Oscar asked.

“I haven’t felt Jeb out yet. Hell, Beau and I only met about a week ago. It feels like I’ve know him half my life, though, but we really haven’t had time to sort out the details. I know better than to interfere with Jeb’s training. Beau contracted to enter training the same day I gave him a ticket for speeding on his bike. I wouldn’t issue a claim for Beau as it’s Jeb’s intention to put him on the market. It wouldn’t be good ethics for me to explore that option. To be honest, I wouldn’t really like to think about claiming Beau until he finishes training,” Master Earl replied. Oscar and Billy agreed.

“I know too many masters who thought they could train their own slave, and to Hell with buying one. Wrong move. They have to be trained by an impartial third party who lays out the non-variable basics for them. Then, when a master buys them, he can add his own discipline and training to further mold the slave to be what he needs. By training, they are forever imprinted by Jeb’s teaching and guidance. Jeb's training is like and operating system for a computer. As you know, it’s powerful and remains with a slave all his life. Just as they are, Jeb’s slaves, fresh out of training can be a joy for any man who buys one even if he doesn’t want to spend too much time training them himself. You go to any function the family has, and you can immediately tell the self-trained slaves as opposed to a third party approach like Jeb’s. He says Beau is the last one. He’s retiring after Beau. He said he was only taking Beau because he felt he was special, a natural,” Master Earl said.

“Who will do the training then?” Oscar asked.

“I believe Jeb is planning to train Big Jim Johnson, Wes’ uncle, to be the family’s new Dungeon Master,” Master Earl replied.

“I’ve heard he’s bringing a couple other trainers along. The only problem is they’re masters and he insists they go through the same training as the slaves to understand what they must teach and what they must not teach," Billy said.

“Sounds reasonable to me, but then I’m a slave,” Oscar said.

“You’re right, Oscar, and I’ll tell you why his approach is good and reasonable," Master Earl said, "Remember the trip I took to Europe several years before I met Wes? I was just a hit and miss top, not knowing what I wanted out of a slave or why. Well, I didn’t go to Europe. I entered Master Jeb’s training as a slave for three months. I asked him to train me as a master. He refused. He told me the only way I would become a good master, to learn what I needed as a master, what I wanted and what I didn’t want, was to take his training as a slave for three months. He insisted I must learn to see through the eyes of a slave to become a competent master. I’ll tell you this, if I hadn’t gone through with it, I would never have been able to handle Wes, nor this young man. I never told Wes and this is the first time I’ve told anyone because of stupid fears of people not understanding.

"I know who I am. I know what I want, and I know what I need, but I couldn’t say that fifteen years ago unless I submitted to Master Jeb. And, yes, when he and I are alone together, out of a deep love and respect for him, I call him ‘Master Jeb.’ I know he loves me. He’s never told me, but he’s proven it many times. I think he's proud of me as a master. He's deferred to me on several contentions within the family because he felt my position was correct. He asks my opinion on many issues. He doesn’t always follow my advice, but I’m flattered he asks. That being said, I don’t have the least fear of Beau having any negative thoughts about my admission. He would still consider being my slave, right Son?” Master Earl asked.

“That’s a rhetorical question isn’t it, Master, because you already know the answer?” I replied.

“Yes, I do, Slave,” he said. Master Earl grabbed me and hugged me. Billy and Oscar smiled at us.

“What about me, Beau, now that you know the guy you jacked off to all those years didn’t have a cock and balls when those pictures were taken, would you still want to spend a night in his arms?” Billy asked.

“More than ever, Billy, with my master's permission, of course. Name the night, and I still wouldn’t have to go to heaven after that. Look at you. I don’t know your age, but the bod is still there, and if you think I’m shit’n you throw you’re ass into a bed, get Master’s permission, and I’m yours for the evening. I’d do anything to or for you. Not to leave Oscar out I’d spend the next evening with him, master willing,” I said. Billy and Oscar couldn’t get their arms around me fast enough.

“Now, it’s my turn to ask, Billy, may I?” I asked.

“Of course you can, Silly,” he replied. I looked at Master Earl and he gave me an okay permission nod, a smile, and a wink.

“I saw you ask Earl’s permission, Slave,” Billy said teasing, “I think the handsome slave-boy’s smitten Oscar,” he teased. I laughed as I began to feel his smooth front. It was so hot. “Beau, that’s the best compliment I’ve had since your last one,” he said. Everyone laughed at me blushing because my dick was sticking straight out and dripping.

“You can always tell if a man is lying to you that way,” Oscar said. I felt underneath Billy, my cock getting harder, and scratched lightly. Billy went nuts but wouldn’t move away.

I stopped and he looked at me, my dick, and turned to Earl. “Please, Master Earl, consider letting your slave keep his. His package is so very handsome,” Billy said.

“We haven’t even discussed it, but I would guess Beau has a pretty good fix on me. He knows, first of all, I won’t accept any more slave clauses in a contract. It will be in our contract that it’s my right to have any body modifications I see fit except limb amputations and shit like that. Furthermore, I make no promises one way or another. You wouldn’t buy a pet and sign a clause that says, even though you own him, you may not have him neutered. That’s his owner’s decision, not his. I feel the same way about Master/slave contracts. If I pay to purchase another man who has agreed to total slavery then he’s given up that right. I’ve thought this out, and I make no apologies for my convictions.

“Others may feel differently. That’s fine, they're free to live their lives the way that’s best for them, but if I buy him that decision becomes mine. However, I will be honest with my new slave. I will tell him not to acknowledge my claim if he has a problem with it. I may take him the first night and have everything removed, but if I do, I don’t expect to hear any whimpering or ‘Kings-X’ from him because it will not be a game. If I want it done, it will be done even over his protest. He can hate me or thank me later, but it will be done. I may choose not to, but he shouldn’t gamble on my goodness. I might wake up some morning, look at him, and think, ‘He doesn’t need those anymore. I think I’ll have them removed today,' and it will be done. As you know, I have a side that can be very demanding. He’ll know it’s a possibility when and if he decides to acknowledge my claim. That point has become a stumbling block for a lot of Master/slave relationships. It won’t be with us.

“I’m very fond of Beau, but he knows I won’t be swayed to reconsider my position. If I make a claim for him, and he decides to acknowledge my claim there will absolutely be no misunderstanding. By acknowledging my claim he is, in essence, saying to me I give my complete trust to you, along with my body, to become your possession. You own me body and soul. If that’s understood, then he must also understand he will trust me in all things. Otherwise, it’s meaningless for me to call myself his master, or at best we become lovers and Master/slave in name only. I can find that in any leather bar in L.A.; I don’t need to pay money for it. Beau will know if it comes to be, he will be my property. Just like my truck, bike, or any other possession. I can’t and won’t have it any other way. It’s also not fair to him. If he’s seeking control over his life through consensual slavery, don’t play at it, do it, and graciously accept the consequences.

"I think I know Beau well enough already to know he won’t have any problem with it. He’s coming to realize for the emotional stability and the guidance he’s looking for, he’ll settle for nothing less in a master than one who assumes total control. He’ll trust me in all things. Likewise, I learned from Jeb’s training, I have an unwritten responsibility to him. I would never take him to the dungeon when I was angry with him. I would never consider having him neutered because I wanted to get back at him or to use as a weapon of fear. I learned from Jeb a slave most wants to serve his master from pride, joy, love, and praise, not fear,” Master Earl said.

I was so stunned by Master Earl’s strength of convictions, every fear I might have entertained about the issue vanished, and I fell to his feet and kissed each boot. “If you had your contract in your hand, I’d gladly sign it right now, Master, with Billy and Oscar as your witnesses if you found me worthy to claim. I’d acknowledge your claim proudly and have no problem signing your contract. My body and my life will be given over to your complete trust. I’ll transfer my control to your ownership. I don’t want anyone to ever say Beau is not truly your property. If losing my genitals is the proof you need to show the world, then have it done with my blessing. I haven't had time to think how I might feel if the subject came up, but I’m glad it did. You’re beginning to know me pretty well.

"You’re correct, Master. With you, I wouldn’t consider entering your service under any other circumstances. Until this moment, I never considered the passion of these relationships. Now, I realize to be content in a relationship with you, I must give you total control, and nothing less. Not only for your sake but for mine as well. I am dead serious about becoming your total slave, and your strong position tells any slave, it’s not a game with you. If you need proof of my sincerity, I will expect to lose them the first night. I’ll understand it's to be done for no other reason than you require it and want it done. I won’t expect or need further explanation. It will be enough for your slave to know it pleases you. If you want them, I understand, you paid for the entire package, they’re yours to take.

"There will be neither whimpering nor begging for you to reconsider. I will go proudly under the knife and cope with the loss in good spirits. I would display neither anger nor hatred toward you for your decision. Furthermore, if you decide it’s to be done, I don’t expect you to discuss it with me before hand. It’s your decision, and I don’t need to know. Besides, if you schedule to have it done with no word to me, it says to me you feel comfortable enough with our agreement and your role of ownership you feel free, with no guilt, to order me to submit willingly without further discussion. So you know, now, and you won’t have to explain it to me again, I will sign a contract with no misunderstanding, that you very well may want to have my cock and balls removed," I said.

I kissed each of his boots again to seal my statement. Master Earl pulled me up to his face and kissed me passionately. “Beau, if I wanted them this minute, you would lay across the table and hand me the knife,” he said with conviction.

“Yes, Master, I would,” I replied. Oscar and Billy clapped and yelled, “Well done, Slave-boy, well done. A natural if we ever saw one,” they allowed.

Perhaps I was a natural slave. I meant everything I said to Master Earl, and I would sign his contract to be his slave tomorrow. I looked into his eyes, and they were watering up. “Masters don’t cry, Master Earl,” I said joking.

“The Hell they don’t, Oscar said, “The real ones do; the wannabes don’t.”

“How long will you be in training, Beau?” Billy asked.

“I don’t really know. Master Jeb told me he wouldn’t put me up for sale until I come to him and tell him I’m ready. I don’t know,” I replied.

“Took me three months,” Billy said.

“Took me four months," Oscar said, "but I had some major hang-ups.”

“Beau, do you want to take this letter to Master Jeb?” Master Earl asked.

“I will if you want me to, sir, but I feel it might be better if you presented him with it. I may need a little back up here to be creditable,” I said.

“That’s a good point, Son. I think I’ll call and have him over for breakfast tomorrow morning. You guys are staying over, right?” Master Earl asked Billy and Oscar.

“Are you kidding? And miss what’s gonna’ happen next? Not on your life, Master. Yes, we’ll be staying, if we have to sleep in the car,” Billy said.

“Is Beau always this full of surprises, Master Earl?” Oscar asked.

“So far he’s averaged two every four hours,” he replied. Everyone laughed, “and we still haven’t told you about last night,” Master Earl added.

I opened my envelope and there was a letter to me and a photo. The photo was a duplicate of the one I passed around earlier. I read the letter out loud.

Dear Beau,

If you’re reading this, I’ve probably passed on. Here’s a chapbook of my poetry. It’s my gift to you for having taught me the craft. I’ve never shown it to anyone, not even my master. Do with it as you will. They are very personal and are about two people, you and my master. This letter was in a secret drawer in his desk he didn’t know about. I’ve left a letter with information about the hidden drawer with Master Jeb Henshaw with instructions not to divulge this information until you’ve had a chance to explore your need for control in a master/slave relationship.

Don’t hate me for suggesting you need to find out about that part of your personality. Take a good look at my master and ask yourself if you could serve and live your life to please a man like him. He needs someone like you, and you need someone exactly like him. Show him this letter, and both of you sit down and talk. He was the love of my life, and I wanted to make sure he has some happiness if I’m gone.

He was wonderful to me, but I wasn’t really a good slave for him. He’s a big handsome man, and as you know I’m a runt. I was an emotional cripple, and he patiently nursed my soul back to health. I would trust him with my life. I would certainly trust him with one of the sweetest loves of my life, and that would be you.

I've never been able to tell him I love him. I can write it in a letter, but I can’t tell him to his face; although, he's the greatest love of my life. It never mattered to him, he loved me unconditionally. Beau, you’re capable of great unconditional love. That’s what it takes to be a good slave. I know you loved me and it was always unconditionally. Who could help love you? You'll do anything for anyone who needs you, and all I ever saw you ask in return is appreciation and respect.

With Master Earl you’ll have that and so much more; your cake and eat it, too. You'll find he is the answer for your almost pathological need to serve. Become his slave, Beau, and you will become his prize, I know. I loved you, and I know he will, too. Before you can give yourself to him or acknowledge his claim, you must first learn to become a slave. It won’t take you long, because I’m sure you're a natural. You were born to serve.

You’ll learn more about that later. Ask Master Earl’s friend, Billy. Ask Master Earl, he will put you in touch with our family’s slave trainer, Master Jeb. He’s a wonderful man, and I still love him very much. Take his training, acknowledge Master Earl’s claim for you if he finds you worthy to become his slave, and begin a new life. A new way of living. You won’t be sorry you did.

I’ll never be far from you. Thank you for my life. I will always love you, your brother,

David (Wes)

I broke down again, and there wasn’t a dry eye in the room. Master Earl opened his letter and passed it to Billy to read aloud. He said he didn’t think he could show as much strength as I did reading mine. I took it from him and began to read.

My Dearest Master, owner, keeper of my heart, caretaker of my soul, possessor of my love (Yes, all of those things.)

If you’re reading this I’ve probably passed on. I haven’t left you by any choice of my own, please, believe that. Neither would I ever consider breaking my sacred bond to you. You have been the single most important person in my adult life. I love you like I have loved no other. Funny, I can write it, but I wonder if I’ll ever be able to say it to you.

I’ve come to an understanding of why and will explain later in this letter. You patiently overlooked that inadequacy in me. You knew from the night you took me to dinner I fell in love with you. You were so good looking, I could hardly say anything all evening. I thought anything I might say would sound stupid. I told you that shit about not being for you so I wouldn’t be disappointed when you didn’t make a claim for me.

Then to my amazement you did. Me, who had nothing to offer a man who had everything. I thought, 'Well, he just wants me for a domestic slave, but I’ll try to please him.' Then, when I came to live with you, I fell more in love with you, but it seemed like I couldn’t do enough for you to notice me. I wanted to be happy being your domestic slave, but I was weak. I got so lonely. That’s why I was crying myself to sleep every night.

The greatest single moment in my life was when you motioned for me to share your bed that night. It was an act of supreme compassion. It was an act of love. Your love has been unconditional, and for that, I love you even more. There is none other like you. There is, however, someone I want you to try to find for both of us.

You remember me speaking of my buddy in Vietnam? His name is Andrew Beaureguard James, Junior. I don’t think I told you how we met but Beau cut me out of a cage the Cong were holding me in and helped me and six other guys escape to a nearby cave. He saved our lives. I was so afraid that night, he held me, comforted me, and we ended up making the sweetest love in front of six other guys.

They never said a word. We didn’t hold back either. Beau fucked the snot out of me while they watched. It was almost like they were grateful for the entertainment. They beat off while we were 'plunged into a vortex of unmentionable passion.' (Read that one time in one of those fifty cent fuck books.)

We finally got back to our division, but it took us about a month. A lot happened to demoralize us, but Beau was strong for all of us. He wouldn’t listen to complaining or negative talk. We were going to make it, or he was going to beat the holy shit out of each of us. (He could have, too.) We almost became more afraid of Beau than we were Charlie. He singlehandedly carried our platoon leader on his back and later dragged him on a makeshift stretcher for forty-two miles back to our camp behind enemy lines. He knew what he was doing. He assumed control and got us back safely. Every man who was with us fell in love with him and me. No one questioned our love. They all defended and protected us. To them, it seemed like the only thing that made an iota of sense in that Hell hole was our love. I still love him, Master. It doesn’t diminish the love I have for you. You know that anyway. My point in all this is Beau is meant to be your next slave.

Don’t mourn for me too long. It hurts me to think you might. You have so much to give and even more to demand of a really fine slave. I was so blinded by your beauty, I was bananas most of the time. I apologize for not being a better slave. In my defense, you spoiled me rotten. If I don’t make it to heaven it will be okay. My time with you was enough to sustain my soul for an eternity. My greatest wish is for you to find another slave who will bring you the dedication and admiration you so richly deserve. That’s why you must find Beau. He has the heart and soul of a slave. I have seen him do things for the least of men, and all he asked is their appreciation and respect.

He has been highly decorated for bravery. He was and is embarrassed by such. I don’t think he realizes his deep need to serve others will never bring him happiness until he understands where he belongs. In my humble opinion he should belong to a good master. You’re that master, sir. He belongs by your side. A strong loving heart, a lovable clown, and a more tender, understanding, giving man you will never find. You were the physical and emotional pinnacle of love for me in this life; however, for your sake, I must tell you, Beau, was the most tender, gentle, sweetest love I’ve ever known. I know you will feel the same about him.

If you find Beau, please introduce him to Master Jeb. He will show him the way. I have also left Master Jeb information about Beau, and know in my gut, my judgment of Beau being a natural born slave will turn Master Jeb into a bloodhound. I’ve also explained to him why I want him to look for Beau. It’s for you. He may find him before you do, but if you ever loved me, and I have no doubt, please, Master, make an effort. You won’t be sorry you did.

There are a couple of things I have purposely left undone will be taken care of by Master Jeb. The other envelope is for you, but please surrender it to Master Jeb until certain things come to pass. Please honor my memory and grant me this indulgence, Master. It is for you and Beau I spin my web.

I know it’s possible to grieve for someone a long time. I won’t be so indelicate to suggest not to morn for me, but there will come a time when you must set grief aside. I want, with all my heart, for you and Beau to bond in a master/slave relationship. To do that, you must let me go of me. If it comes to pass, there will be no containing my spirit. I will dance all over God’s heaven, that is, if he needs a slightly spoiled slave.

Beau once criticized a poem of mine and said “Brevity, brevity, brevity! See how much you can say with the least amount of words. It’s not the words you put into the poem that makes it sing, it’s the ones you leave out.” I have rewritten this letter four times, and it can’t be more brief to say what I want to say. I just hope you can see the love coming through the words.

I can write to you of the great love I have for you, but telling you is almost impossible for me. You have forgiven me a thousand times for it when I know there were tender moments you really needed to hear it. God, as my witness, my wonderful Master, I felt it and wanted to shout the words, but they wouldn’t come. The harder I tried the more difficult it became; so, you needed this letter to confirm what you already know. There was a conflict within me because of the clause I stupidly insisted be in your contract. To tell you I loved you meant, I was, for that moment, your equal, to impress you of the importance, to me, of the words. I really didn’t think it out.
My greatest fear after we bonded was for even one moment, the length of time to utter the words, I would not be your slave. I never wanted to ever consider for even that length of time I wasn’t your slave. I came to realize and accept I was not your equal by choice, and I was so grateful for having made the choice I couldn’t betray it for a moment.

That’s what you mean to me, Master. I could write the words I love you a hundred times, but it will never express the love my story tells. In my heart, I will always be your slave. I know you feel the same, but there is much room in your big, strong heart to share your life with another.

Have Beau read you some of my poems some quite evening. They are unabashed love poems for the both of you, and you know what? I did trust you, Master. It took great strength and love to order me to do that. You turned my life around and taught me to stop feeling sorry for myself. I’m grateful to you for that, and you never gave me reason to doubt you for a moment. I’m still your humble and loving slave.

Please Master, forgive me for leaving you. I will always love you, your slave forever,

Wes

Everyone was dead quite for several minutes, and then, we all broke down again, almost at the same time. We had been through an emotional ringer. We needed to get away from the heaviness.

“Master could I have your permission to get drunk?” I asked joking.

“Only, if we can join you,” he replied.

Everyone laughed and we went to the kitchen for another drink. Master Earl excused himself to call Master Jeb to invite him to breakfast the following morning. I was left to talk with Billy and Oscar who were agog with what happened and the content of Wes’ letters. How could he have planned this? And, there was a good possibility it may damn well come true.

Master Earl dialed Jeb’s number. “Hello,” Jeb answered.

“Good evening, Jeb. This is Earl Shaw calling.”

“It’s good to hear your voice, young man. How’s my favorite graduate?” Jeb asked and laughed.

“Thank you for that, Master Jeb. I’m fine. I haven’t been better in a while.”

“You know, of all people, I am thrilled to hear you say that, Earl D., but tell me, Son, what has brought you such joy?” Jeb chided.

“Well, for one, a wonderful, handsome young man who is humble, courteous, I could go on with enough good words to sound like the definition of a boy scout, who makes me laugh and has a big heart, the heart of a natural slave,” Earl said.

“I’d say that pretty well sums up my new initiate, Beau,” Jeb said.

“Thank you for allowing him to come here this weekend. It has meant a great deal to me. I’m grateful,” Earl replied.

“I thought you might find him interesting," Jeb said.

“Interesting? The kid's had me on an emotional roller coaster since he got here, but none of it was his fault,” Earl said.

“Not to be indelicate, but I might guess you’re both exorcising some ghosts,” Jeb said.

“Yes, sir, we are, but the ghost won, and I can’t say I’m sorry. Its been a great release you must hear about. That’s why I’m calling, to invite you to brunch tomorrow around eleven, if your free.”

“I’d enjoy that. Can I bring anything?” Jeb asked.

“Just your sexy body,” Earl replied.

“By your command, Master Shaw,” Jeb said laughing.

“Billy and Oscar are here for the evening. They’ve had a front row seats on this emotional roller coaster ride, and they would love to see you. So would Beau and I. We have some very strange, but wonderfully miraculous things to tell you.”

“That Beau and Wes were lovers in Vietnam?” Jeb asked.

“Damn, you knew all along,” Earl replied and laughed.

“Yes, Earl, but I was sworn to secrecy until certain things happened, and I knew from your hedging they have. It will be wonderful to finally talk with you about it,” Jeb said.

“I should have known the master of us all would know, and you know I have no problem with it. Things are evolving as they should. I don’t want to rush anything.”

“We’ll talk tomorrow, Son. Thanks for calling, and thanks for your gracious invitation. I'll look forward to it,” Jeb said.

“Good night, Master.”

“Good night, my fellow Master. Sleep well with your new slave tonight.”

“Thank you, Jeb,” Earl said quietly.

Earl put the phone down and stopped for a minute. He thought how fortunate he was to have a friend like Jeb. He was once embarrassed to have anyone know he went through slave training, although Jeb never told a soul. 'Your greatest fear was not that someone would find out you went through it, you were afraid they would find out you enjoyed it, and fell in love with Master Jeb like any other slave. I’m not afraid any more to admit I still love him,' Earl thought to himself. Master Earl returned to the kitchen where we were well on our way to happy time. He looked thoughtful yet relieved.

“How is Master Jeb?” Billy asked.

“He’s fine. He’ll be joining us tomorrow for brunch,” Earl replied.

“Something wrong, Master?” I asked.

“Well, things keep getting stranger and stranger. I told him we had some miraculous things to tell him and he answered, ‘That Beau and Wes were lovers in Vietnam?’”

There were noticeable gasps from the three of us.

“Then according to the letter to you from Wes, Master Earl, he set Master Jeb on the trail looking for Beau,” Oscar deduced.

“That means Master Jeb and my meeting was not random," I said, "He came to the bar looking for me. I remember the door boy told me a mature fine looking gentleman was asking about me.”

“Is that upsetting to you, Beau?” Billy asked.

“Not in the least. As a matter of fact, I’m deeply moved someone, Wes, or Master Jeb, thought enough of me to drop their nets to find me. I’m overwhelmed and flattered,” I replied.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Billy said.

“Beside the result would be the same either way. I feel more certain every day I’m making the right decision, and after my time with Master Earl it’s almost chiseled in granite,” I said.

“Are you tired, Slave-boy?” Master Earl asked putting his arms around me and kissing me on the forehead.

“I’m emotionally exhausted,” I said laying my head on his big chest.

“How would you like to retire with your master and relax in his arms?” Master Earl asked.

“That sounds wonderful, Master, but we have guest to think about,” I reminded him.

“We’re going to bed, too, Beau, so don’t worry about us. Which bedroom, Master?” Oscar asked.

“You guy bunking together? There’s enough bedrooms for separate. Two upstairs, one larger down.”

“We’ll camp in the two uppers, if that’s all right?” Billy asked.

“There are clean sheets on the beds and towels in the night stands. Have a good night, and we’re glad you’re here,” Master Earl replied.

“Thanks, Master Earl, we wouldn’t have missed this for the world. I would wish you a good night, but why carry coals to Newcastle,” Oscar said then laughed. We hugged each other and Master Earl took me by my leash and gently led me to his bed. We got to the bedroom, and I was a vegetable. He went to take my collar off, but I asked if he would mind leaving it on. He kissed me and said he would.

“Now take off your boots and chaps,” he said. I didn’t respond. He dropped to his knees in front of me, put one of my heavy boots on his upper leg, and started undoing them. I became aware of what he was doing and got embarrassed.

“No, Master, please, I can do that,” I said.

“Quiet, Slave! Sit there and let your Master take your boots off,” he replied.

“Yes, Master,” I said. Tears started running down my face. “I’m sorry, Master.”

“Listen to me, Slave, that’s enough! Stop that! You haven’t failed me. I’m doing something for you because I choose to, and will from time to time. You need my help right now. I may be rusty as a master, but I know how to be humane,” he said quietly. He had my boots off, stood me up, and took off my chaps. Master Earl snapped his fingers at the bed, and I instantly hit the position. He held a towel in his hand, popped out my plug, and made sure I was clean.

“Get in bed, Son, I’m going to check on our guest, and I’ll be right back,” he said.

“Yes, Master,” I replied.

Master Earl returned after a few minutes, and I watched the most beautiful man in the world slowly undress in front of me. When he was naked, I marveled at how he could looked more beautiful without clothes. If it happens, losing my genitals would be a small price to pay to be owned by the most handsome man on the West Coast. I found myself thinking about how it might feel. As long as I could please him, what the Hell did I care. He crawled into bed next to me and invited me into his arms. It was an invitation I couldn’t refuse.

“If every day is like this one, Slave, there will never be a dull moment,” he said with a smile.

“I hope not, Master,” I replied as I reached up to kiss him under his chin.

“Beau, I’m really taken with you. Oh, fuck that! I’m falling in love with you. I never was one to beat around the bush,” he said.

“You amaze me, Master,” I replied.

“How’s that, boy?” he asked.

“You’re not afraid to lay it on the line and neither am I. I know where I stand with you, and I don’t have to second guess. So you don’t have to second guess me, I’m very much in love with you. What I said earlier in front of Oscar and Billy, I meant. If you make a claim for me, I will acknowledge it with absolutely no reservations or hesitation, understanding and accepting your contract as presented for me to sign,” I said.

“Then, you’re telling me, you would accept my claim and become my slave?” he asked.

“Yes, Master, I would, in a heartbeat,” I replied.

“I have faith it will happen. You know what you need, slave?” Master Earl asked kissing me behind the ear.

“Yes, sir, I do. I know what would really relax me right now,” I replied.

“I’d be happy to relax you, Slave-boy. I could use a little bit of relaxing, myself. How about a long, slow, deep, gentle fucking?” he asked with a grin.

“I’d sure appreciate it, Master. It always makes me feel better to have you inside of me. Let me get around here to get some spit on you,” I said and started lathering him up, smelled the leather he was wearing, and his clean male perspiration. I got carried away and cleaned his hairy balls. They tasted so good, I almost couldn’t stop, but I knew he needed my butt. I spit some more on his beautiful cock, and returned to my position in front of him. He didn’t ask if I was ready; he took control and took my ass in one strong swift stroke; the only way a master should take his slave. Damn, this was the icing on the cake. He was true to his word and gave his slave the sweetest long, slow, deep fucking I ever had.

We heard whispering and Master turned away from me and spoke. “Are you boys lost, have a bad dream, or just want to watch?” he asked.

“Oh, Hell, he caught us. Be honest with him, Billy,” Oscar said.

“We just wanted to watch for a minute,” Billy said.

“Well, come on in, make yourselves comfortable, and watch me fuck my slave,” Master Earl replied.

“You’re a good master, Master Earl,” Oscar said.

“I can see Beau doesn’t mind either,” Billy said and giggled.

“Damn!” I exclaimed, “My cock gives me away every time,” I said.

“Feeling all right, Son?” Master Earl asked me.

“Better than all right, sir, you feel terrific inside me. Could you give me a couple more of them good, long slow deep ones, Master? They really relax your slave,” I said.

“Glad to slave. This fuck’s for you tonight, anyway,” he replied.

Billy and Oscar set on the floor to get the best view of Master Earls big cock working slowly in my ass. Once in a while I would push back with my hips and slide down the shaft on my own to meet his gentle thrust.

“Well, Master Earl, I don’t think your going to have to do a Hell of a lot of training with this one. Looks like he’s pretty good at using his little man-hole,” Billy said.

“Billy, really?” Oscar said indignantly, “Just watch and enjoy.”

“You guys are welcome to watch, I’m not shy,” I said, “I’m so proud to have Master Earl inside me he could erect bleachers and sell tickets. He feels so good I wouldn’t mind anyone watching me play catcher for him,” I said.

Master nuzzled me behind the neck. I forgot about Billy and Oscar and allowed myself to drift on a gentle sea being lightly rocked with the undulating motion of the waves. The next thing I knew I woke up, and Oscar and Billy were gone. Master Earl was breathing softly behind me with his dick still solidly lodged in my ass. I didn’t want to wake him so I wiggled my butt down further onto him. He awoke for a moment, took one long, slow, deep stroke in my ass and nibbled on my ear. He locked his arms around me and sunk it just a little deeper. I looked up and whispered, “I love you, Master,” I whispered.

Master Earl hooked his square jaw on my shoulder and kissed me on the cheek. He pulled almost all the way out and slowly sunk his big tool all the way to the base. “What did that say to you, Slave?” he asked quietly, gently nuzzling me behind my ear with his bushy mustache.

“That my master loves his slave,” I replied.

“Exactly! I’ve fallen in love with my new slave. Now go to sleep, boy.”

“Master?”

“Yes, Slave?”

“I hate to be a piggy, but could I have just one more, sir?" I asked.

“Sure, Slave,” he replied.

“Oouu, aahh, thank you, sir,” I said.

“Good night, Son.”

“Good night, Master.”

End Chapter 6 ~ The Ties That Bind
Copyright ~ © ~ 2000 ~ 2015 ~ Waddie Greywolf
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Mail to: <waddiebear@yahoo.com>
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05/28/2015