3TB_20

THE TIES THAT BIND
By Waddie Greywolf

Chapter 20 ~ Bell, Book, and Candle

Part I ~ Epiphanies Antagonistes

“Rock of ages, cleft for me let me hide myself in thee.” ~ Augustus M. Toplady, 1740-1778

I awoke the next morning feeling better than I had in a long time and hornier than a tom cat with a hormone problem. I eased out of bed and went to the shower to clean myself. When satisfied, I dried carefully and sneaked back into bed next to the Dungeon Master. I knew him well enough to sense when he was about to wake up. Babe was already awake and ready to play. I positioned my ass right on Babe and gently pushed back until I felt him pop his head in to look around. I guess he was pleased I seemed clean, warm, and comfortable because I felt six inches or more wiggle into my butt. At that point, I knew the giant was awake and probably had a large smile on his face. I pushed my ass back a little harder and managed to get about three quarters of Babe in me. I felt his big hairy arms around me pulling me up to him tightly and Babe was driven all the way into my barn.

Oh gees, he just fit. We lay there together and my giant ox reached down with his big head and kissed me behind the ear. “I can tell you been in the shower. You smell good. You do that for me?” he asked.

“Yes, sir, Dungeon Master. I’m so horny this morning I decided I was gonna’ get some good master cock if I had to tie you to the bed. I crawled back in bed and saw Babe was awake and ready to play. I opened the barn door and led him in,” I said.

“Damn! Them workouts are really pumping the testosterone into you. Next, you’ll be wanting to get in my ass if I don’t watch out,” he said.

“If you need it, Master, it’s yours, and I promise you the best," I replied.

“You know, Slave, I may surprise the holy Hell out of you some night to see what junior can do. In the meantime, don’t bet the farm on it happening. I know one thing about you. It would neither change our relationship nor would you think me any less a man or master. You’ve been imprinted I’m your master, one of your owners, and that will never be altered,” he said with assurance.

“You’re right, I am imprinted. I will never deny it. You have set a seal upon my arm and a bond upon my heart. To be honest, I never want to think of you any other way. With you inside me like this, do you think I would ever want to switch places? Only at your behest, Master,” I said with humility, as he took a couple of giant strokes into my ass.

“Oh shit, Master, that feels so good. I ain’t gonna’ be able to hold out long,” I complained.

Master Jim reached behind him into the drawer of his night stand and pulled out a studded leather strap. He reached in front of me and ordered me to hold my cock and balls away from my body. I did as ordered and he snapped the leather ring tight around that area. He let go and the ring got tight. It felt good, but it had its desired effect. I cut my need to come in half. “That should take care of an early shot from my slave, so's I can get in some heavy-duty morning plowing and plant my crop. Now, you were saying...?” he asked.

“I was just saying how great my Dungeon Master feels inside of me. Can’t you get more in, please?” I asked. He started laughing pulled almost all the way out.

“Take a deep breath,” he said.

I did and he gently but forcefully made me ride Babe all the way to the base. He arched his back to make sure Babe was lodged within me as far as he could get it. “That enough, Son?” he asked.

“It’s in-decent, Master,” I replied. He laughed at my joke. I started riding up and down on Babe getting my saddle broken in. I had a feeling I was going to get fucked royally.

“You’re not fuck’n Babe this morning, Little Beaver. The Dungeon Master needs to exercise his pony himself. Relax, let old Babe climb into your saddle. Lie back and enjoy the ride,” Big Jim said. I knew it was a figure of speech. If I could improve something in my fucking he would stop, correct me, and do his stroke over several times to make sure I responded the way he wanted. I was not allowed to be a lazy fuck. Like everything else in life, you get more out of any venture depending on what you put more into it.

Big Jim built his bed to his own needs. It was huge and he had a special large mattress made for it. It wasn’t too high off the floor, but it was high enough when kneeling he could fuck someone on the edge of the bed comfortably. He got me to the end of the bed, pulled part way out, flipped me over on my back, and I hit the position. As he entered me, I could feel his massive giant cock being rammed into my hungry ass.

He handed me some handles which were attached to a couple of ropes on either side of me. With them I could hold myself in position no matter how hard he fucked me. It was a great idea, very inventive. I could keep pulling myself back into prime position for his pleasure. It was simple in design, easy to use and served its purpose well. I quickly learned to use it for his maximum benefit. I wanted to pleasure the big man to gain his approval in the worst way. I didn’t have to wait long before the Dungeon Master started fucking me hard and deep. I knew it wasn’t going to take Babe long to ride to the barn. After a few minutes of some pretty intense fucking, he slowed down and finally stopped, remaining docked in my ass.

“Your ox doing you some good, Beaver?” he asked.

“God, yes, Dungeon Master, feed Ox as much as he needs. I ain't seen him this hungry in a good while. I love it you’re taking a break. It means I get fucked a little longer. Am I doing my ox some good, Master?” I asked.

“I think you know the answer to that, but a slave should hear they’re doing a good job from time to time and this is one of them. Old Babe’s been hankering for some slave-boy butt ever since he strung you up in the dungeon two days ago. So hang on, Slave, you’re in for a good ride,” he said and he wasn’t kidding.

Thank God he installed those handles. He kept trying to get in my ass further and further. He was in no rush, and he took a couple more breaks. I was over my need to come. The leather ring he snapped on my cock and balls was doing its job. Master Jeb’s training was taking effect. I placed the Dungeon Master’s needs more important than mine. I was working so hard for Master Jim’s pleasure I forgot about how wonderful his big cock was feeling to me; another epiphany perhaps. The old man knows what he’s doing. It was working. My brain is being rewired. Was I frightened about the prospect? Not in the least. This was one of the greatest feelings of my life giving up my ass to this giant man.

He raised up a little and bent over to kiss me gently as if he knew the revelation I just had. He leaned close to my ear. “Don’t worry so much. You’re my slave. You will always be my slave. Now, I’m going to grab myself a big-old piece of your love and tear it out of your ass as I replace it with a hefty load of ox love,” he said with a growl. He started again and fucked me so hard I though we were having an earthquake. I rode every thrust down to the last one. “That's it, Slave. I’ve grabbed it, and I'm taking it away, right... now!” He made a huge groan like an animal about finish his rut.

I felt his flow begin in me with his first volley and knew I didn’t need permission to get mine. I shot all over him giving in to the love he just took from me. He felt my ass chewing on his big dick and he went into his other world ejaculation. I don’t think he ever realized, when his saliva started to flow it would be slung all over the place, me included. He was out of it for a few minutes, as I felt him shoot again. How was it possible? He would shoot once then go into this nether world where it seemed like an animal took possession of his soul, and it would shoot into me as well. I’m not talking just a little spit. I’m talking volumes of saliva. I would be wet and so would he. I can’t tell you the number of times I cleaned and dried that big man. Was it offensive? Not in the least, especially after I got used to it. I looked forward to it. He was like a volcano erupting on several fronts. He never failed to fulfill me totally and satisfy me sexually. I wasn’t horny anymore. I knew I would go through the day with a smile on my lips and a song in me heart.

That morning was the first morning of our second week of jogging. I hadn’t done any exercise like that in years and my tongue was hanging out. As time went on I lost inches off my waist and so did the Dungeon Master. He was really shaping up and getting looks from all quarters.

My second bondage was not so difficult, but still there were the hurts, the questions, the pain of my past which came flooding in. I was so touched by my family. They gathered for each session to see me through, help anyway they could, and generally wished me well in my transformation. The Dungeon Master would purposely not share with me who would be there. It was his call as Dungeon Master, and Jeb was so damn proud of him, you’d have thought he just had a baby. His love for his big friend took on new dimensions. It also seemed to improved his health somewhat. He was feeling better. He looked better. The second bondage I was watched over by Sam, Yoshie, Big Dirk, and Allen. Big Beryl and Blaine were there for every one.

Chief didn’t want to seem too anxious or make a nuisance of himself. He would call Friday nights after work to see if he was needed. Big Jim made a little brother of him and felt comfortable when Chief was around. Chief worshiped Big Jim. Big Jim would joke with him. “No, I think we have enough help. Well, maybe there’s a few things you might help with. You might keep the Dungeon Master warm when he naps between stretches. Chief would ride to the mountain as fast as his Norton would travel. He was there, most weekends, every week. He was also being carefully taught by both masters should he be needed in the future to help train slaves. Chief took his learning seriously. He set in on my conversations with Master Jeb, and saw the way he was leading my thinking. Chief observed things I was having problems with. He saw how easily they could be overcome. The important thing was to lead the slave’s thinking, but he must come to an understanding on his own.

Master Earl checked on my progress but didn’t want to infringe on his brother’s turf. He was a wise enough man to know when to back off and let the natural flow of things progress; however, my third bondage trip, the Dungeon Master made a special call for him to come quickly. I was having a rough time and he couldn’t get me calmed down. My master came and did nothing more than place his hand on me. I sensed it was him and immediately settled down. A quiet calm came over me when I felt his strength and trust passing into my spirit. It was all right, my master was there. He broke down and cried at my simple love and need for him. He knew he would never have to question it no matter how many times he left me with the Dungeon Master.

I was beginning to think of Big Jim as Dungeon Master. He walked proud and tall with his hips thrown forward and developed a little swagger. Gone was his usual stooped shoulder, forward leaning, lumbering, Neanderthal gait. The Dungeon Master was taking on a sexy new persona. He was beginning to find a new pride in himself and his abilities. I never knew a person could change right before your eyes. His face was even becoming better looking. He actually went from borderline ugly to ruggedly handsome. None of these new qualities were missed by the ladies at the gym. Dear God, the girls at the gym were a pushy lot and twittered like a flock of angry birds. I made sure I only called my training master, Jim, or sir at the gym, but never master; especially not Dungeon Master. The more they tried to figure us out, the less they understood; however, they certainly took notice and began to appreciate Big Jim and his apparent change.

The work-outs were taking their toll on him, too. Jim was always big, but now he was getting fucking enormous. His shoulders and arms became massive. He was a good trainer. He never ask me to lift more than he thought was safe, but he worked my fucking ass off. He would have me so tired after workouts, I wanted to lie down and die or at least take a good long nap. He wouldn’t hear of it. I had other things to accomplish. By the end the day, I no longer showed much of an ass, but what I had left, was dragging. The second week of training he started us running several blocks and back home before the gym. Each day he increased it another block. He was literally working my ass off. I dropped almost two sizes in my waste and my Tuff Nuts overalls hung on me like a laundry bag. I didn’t have the ass I used to have anymore. All I had left were two small round masses the size of two small bowling balls.

The day-crowd at the gym increased ten fold. The wait for exercise benches became too much for a big impatient man like Jim. Silly queens would make glib comments. I could tell Master Jim was not amused. He was a good friend of the gym manager/owner. Big Jim made a deal with him to do clean up for the day, and wash and fold his gym towels. The owner had a super-load washer in the back and all we had to do was put them in, dry them, and fold them. He gave Big Jim a key. We got up early and were there working out and cleaning up two hours before the gym opened for the day. The owner would walk in, look around, and seem pleased with our work. I scrubbed down the showers really good twice a week and gave them a passable shot the rest. He said it was the cleanest his gym had been in years.

Well, guess what happened? The girls would see us working out and come with their color coordinated Gucci bags and fanny packs to try to get in an early morning workout. The hours are posted on the door. Couldn’t they read? We finally put up a cardboard sign which read: Gym not open until 10:00 A.M! Clean up crew working! Stan, the owner was really pleased with our work and we got our workouts done in good time. We even had time to do extra on Fridays if Master Jim felt I needed it, which was every Friday. There were some pissed off queens. They reasoned if we were working out why couldn’t they? Stan, the owner, got a lot of complaints. He would just whoop and slap his knee when he told us the latest story. He didn’t give a shit, he was getting a Hell of a deal.

The cleaning crew he had before only came twice a week, charged him almost three hundred per month and wouldn’t fold the towels or clean the shower. Why? I wondered. Big Jim didn’t expect me to do everything. He worked as hard as I did and would clean mirrors and windows once a week. We had it down to a science and the owner couldn’t have been happier. He couldn’t believe we cleaned the windows and mirrors. After the second month he wouldn’t accept our gym fees and joked he should be paying us. We still had queens come to the door and get pissed because we wouldn’t let them in even though the sign was right in front of their eyes. Big Jim would smile sweetly and just point to the sign. They would walk off in a huff, and we would have a good laugh. “Teach you to make fun of the giant and his slave,” he growled at them, as he smiled sweetly and waved. We’d fall together laughing from the look on their faces.

My first month of training was coming to an end and my respect and love for both masters continued to grow by leaps and bounds. I found myself using less familiar names with Big Jim. He became the Dungeon Master, and I felt I should show him that respect. He questioned me several times, and I explained my feelings. He thought about it for a couple of days, then one morning, after working out, he set me down on a bench and sat next to me. We were alone. We finished early and the owner hadn’t come in yet.

“I’ve thought a lot about your answer about respect for me and not using such familiar names and terms. I must impress on you, I understand it’s my due as your master, and especially as your Dungeon Master. You’re showing your training by needing to show me respect. I understand; however, you’re not an average slave, Beau. I love you deeply, and I know you love me,” he said. He saw a light go on in my brain. I smiled at him impishly. He smiled back wickedly, “Don’t say it, or I’ll backhand you off that damn bench,” he growled and grinned. We broke up with laughter.

“I can’t go too long with you without something funny passing between us. We know each other so well,” he said. He was silent for a moment, put his hands together and leaned forward to rest his arms on his legs, “My point is exactly that. You’re little names for me are a part of you I love. They’re a part of you, when we're together, in private, I cherish. In public, I expect nothing less from you, but the greatest respect, and you have never disappointed me. On the contrary, you’ve gone overboard with your respect and manners toward me even around our family. That’s another thing about you I love. In the context of what I said, think about this: should you deny your master anything? If your answer is ‘no’ then you’ll consider my request to rethink giving up your familiar names for me. You realize, of course, I could make it an order. I don’t want to do that. I’d rather you come to that conclusion on your own because you love me. Do you understand? Do you have any questions?” my giant asked.

“What you’re saying is, I’m guilty of overkill. I didn’t think about it that way. I thought I was being a good and respectful slave. You’re saying, I am and don’t need to be so formal in private. Lighten up, Kid, I’m still your Big Blue Ox? Ride Babe to the barn?” I asked.

“Right, exactly,” he said.

“I’m sorry, Master,” I got tears in my eyes, “I never consider you might get pleasure from my nonsense. You don’t have to order me Doc Ox. You’ve fixed the problem. To be honest, I’ve missed my conversations with Babe,” I said.

He hugged me to him and laughed as he held me tight. “Come on, Little Beaver, let’s go home.”

“Yes, Master Ox.”

“Better,” he said, “much better.”

* * * * * * *
Part II ~ Wise Men From The East

"From far away we come and farther we must go.
How far... how far... my crystal star?
The shepherd dreams inside the fold.
Cold are the sands by the silent sea.
Frozen the incense in our frozen hands, heavy the gold.
How far... how far... my crystal star?
By silence-sunken lakes, the antelope leaps.
In paper-painted oasis, the drunken gypsy weeps.
The hungry lion wanders, the cobra sleeps.
How far... how far... my crystal star?"
From "Amahl And The Night Visitors" by Gian Carlo Menotti

Wednesday night, the second week of my training Master Jeb and the Dungeon Master invited my master for dinner along with my brother who was fast becoming an integral part of our immediate family. Chief loved being around the men in our family and loved any contact he could have with me as well. He would check in with Master Jeb every evening and speak with the Dungeon Master as often as he could. I would tell him of my progress and answer his many questions. He seemed to be soaking up the ideas and ideals of the philosophy that ran the family and the intricacies of changing or molding a man’s thinking through slave training.

The more he investigated and wrote about his findings, as instructed by Master Jeb, he found little or no fault with the training. He began to learn as much of the master’s ways as Mastere Jeb and Jim would teach him. Master Jeb was thrilled at Chief’s interest and intelligence. He soaked up concepts like a sponge and interrelated them with his own background as a native American.

Many of the ideas and philosophies paralleled those in his society. He began to keep copious notes in both languages; his native language and English. It was almost like he was becoming an apprentice training master and going through slave training with me. Master Jeb confirmed his and my opinions that there were, indeed, corollaries. Conversation around the dinner table was lively, and everyone was in a good mood. The Dungeon Master was beginning to bloom in his position and even Master Earl confided in Chief and me, Big Jim was taking on a totally new personal and a highly attractive one at that. It became obvious my master began to develop an admiration toward our family’s new Dungeon Master and made no attempt to hide it.

“Has anyone been in contact with the Tucson contingent of our family?” the Dungeon Master asked.

“I spoke with Dan Yates, Cowboy, and Griz night before last and invited them for our slave's final weekend of bondage and ceremony. They accepted and said they would bring Boots and Sonny. Big Gunn called last night and talked with me for a while. He said he and his slave, Ben Jr., would be here,” Master Earl said.

“Excuse me, Master Earl, would ‘Cowboy’ by any chance be Billy Gunn Jr.?” Chief asked.

“Why, yes, Son, do you know him?” he asked.

“Know him? I knew him and his real dad, Bud Cummings, when they made their winning tour of the rodeo circuit before I went to Nam. Cowboy was the first man I ever shared sex with, and we spent a week in a hayloft together on the Anderson’s ranch North of Prescott. His dad, or uncle at the time, was a fine and understanding man. Billy explained to me he was trying to learn to become a slave to his beloved uncle, but he didn’t know everything yet. I found it interesting and exciting, but I was so new to man-sex Billy became like a God to me. I fell very much in love with him.

“Billy had no hang ups about sex and encouraged me to feel the same. He would do anything for me or to me I wanted to try. I wish every young man could have a Cowboy for their first time. I joined the Navy and was in boot camp when he and his Uncle Bud won the nationals. Later his dad or uncle came to me in a dream in Nam and told me he died that night and was really Cowboy’s biological father. He told me Cowboy and his buddies would be ambushed the next day and Billy would die if I didn’t find him on the battlefield as quickly as possible.

The other corpsman thought I was nuts when I jumped off the chopper and ran through the corpses calling his name as loud as I could. They just shook their head, but they started calling his name, too, and one saw him raise his boot and hollered to me. It was cowboy. My heart was crushed. His buddies were dead on top of him. They threw themselves on him to protect him. We checked them out for any life signs as we gently removed them, but they were gone. Billy was hanging on to life by a thread. I hugged him to me and swore I would get him back safely. He opened his eyes and managed to get out my name and then he passed out. He didn’t come to for three days, but I was by his bedside when he did. I was the one who had to tell him his buddies were dead. Liked to ripped my guts out.”

Chief stopped for a minute and started weeping. I had my arm around him and saw my master, Master Jeb, and my big lovable ox had tears in their eyes as well. My master put his hand on Chief’s shoulder and consoled him. Chief continued, “I tried to contact Cowboy for several years, but I heard he bought a bike and became a slave to an outlaw biker. I never had his home address or phone number. I moved to the LA area because I was trying to find him. Of course, I needed a job, and that’s when I ran into Beau. It never occurred to me he might be a member of our family. Is he well? Is he happy?” Chief asked.

All three Master’s filled Chief in on Cowboy’s life and loss of his first Master. "His new Master, Dan Yates, is the father of his lover and buddy in Nam, Buck Yates, one of the men you pulled off of him. Griz is their slave. When Griz's master, Booger Red's brother died, he willed Gris to both Cowboy and Dan Yates. Griz is a phenomenon. He’s so huge we ain’t real sure he’s a man.     Cowboy is well and happier than any of us have ever known him to be. His dad who raised him, Big Gunn, lives with his slave Ben Stafford Jr., on a ranch adjoining Dan Yates’ spread. He'll really be glad to hear from you again. Cowboy has spoken many times of his Indian brother who saved his life but we never put the two together,” Master Earl said.

“Son, hand me the telephone,” Master Jeb said to me. I got the kitchen phone and handed it to my master. He dialed a number. “Dan! Jeb Henshaw here. How is everyone at the ranch?” he asked. Master Jeb listened for a minute and continued, “And the ladies, how are they handling the heat? Fine, glad to hear it. Dan, the reason I called, we got us a new family member we just discovered is an old friend of your cowboy slave, saved his life in Nam. Is the Cowboy around. Sure, I’ll hold on,” Master Jeb handed Chief the phone.

“Jim, is that you?” Cowboy asked anxiously. Chief broke down and couldn’t speak for a minute. “It’s all right, Jim, your cowboy’s here. Take your time. It’s so damn good to hear from you,” Cowboy told him.

“I’m sorry, Billy, I only learned a minute ago from our family you're the man I been looking for all these years. It’s a bit overwhelming to me,” he said.

“Are you a member of our family now, Chief?” Cowboy asked.

“I’m trying to be. It’s a long story, I’ll tell you when I see you. I understand your coming for Master Jeb, Master Jim, and Master Earl’s slave’s final bondage weekend and ceremony,” Chief replied.

“Yes, my master has already accepted Master Earl’s invitation and we should be there Friday afternoon to do what we can to help and wish him well. My dad is coming, and he will be thrilled to meet you and make you another one of his sons. He sort of collects them. You’ll get to meet my big brother Griz, but you won’t be prepared for how big a brother he is. He’s bigger than the old man in the desert I love, Big Beryl. You’ll love Griz and my other two brothers who both are named Billy Gunn, same’s me. God, do we have a lot of catching up to do?” Cowboy said.

“I won’t think of anything else until I see you again, my love. You know I’ve always loved you,” Chief replied.

“I will always love you, my savior, and I can’t wait to see you again either,” Cowboy said.

They talked for a while longer and said their goodbyes. Chief hung up the phone and had a big smile on his face even though his eyes were still filled with tears. “Thank you, Master Jeb. Thank you all for that. A big part of my life has been healed. You men have managed in a short period of time to bring a great deal of joy, hope, and healing to my spirit. How can I ever repay you?” he asked.

“Seems to me like you already have, Little Brother,” Big Jim said and put his huge hand on Chief’s shoulder. "If it weren’t for you we wouldn’t have Beau or Cowboy. I’d say whatever we do or have done for you is chump change,” Jim added. Master Jeb and Master Earl agreed.

The Tucson contingent did, indeed, come and were there for my final bondage journey. I was impressed by with them. They were fine, good looking men, and the one they called Griz was aptly named. However, he had to be a bit bigger than a full grown Grizzly male. He was enormous. He made my giant look like a normal sized man. When he held me he vibrated some tone or sonic sound deep within him that soothed and healed my spirit. He and Chief became good friends right away, and I became friends with Sonny and his Master Boots. Big Gunn was so taken with how much Cowboy and I looked alike he deemed me one of his sons immediately. Because Chief was Cowboy’s savior he was also immediately inducted as a member of the greater Gunn family.

* * * * * * *
Part III ~ Ceremonies

To destroy is always the first step in any creation ~ e e cummings

The last afternoon of my bondage was difficult. It was only Saturday afternoon, but I was having a rough time I didn’t expected. I was to be released early that evening, but by late afternoon I could see I wasn’t going to make it. I was going through some things about Nam I never told anybody. Perhaps, Cowboy, Chief, Blaine, Wes, and Breed precipitated these thoughts which brought back unhealthy memories. Memories of the unorthodox things I did during periods of time while patching up bodies. I felt guilty maybe I didn’t do the right thing. Some guy would be near death and I knew I couldn’t help him long enough to get him back. I would shoot him up with morphine to ease his passing.

I couldn’t stay around long enough to know whether I did the right thing. We had to account for every drop of morphine or Demerol we used. I would give a couple of guys a little less to have extra for the worst cases. My heart couldn't let them die in pain, alone. I stayed with many until they died in my arms and breathed their last. I’m not overly religious, but I would always ask God to receive them into his light. Afterwards, I cried for them.

Now, it seemed like I was grieving for them all over again. I could see each one's face as I held them and watched their souls leave their bodies, one by one. This was ridiculous. This wasn't reparative therapy. My mind was caught in an endless loop, a terminal fugue. It became exceptionally painful. I knew I couldn't handle much more. I found myself sinking deeper and deeper into great emotional distress and several more hours in bondage was not going to heal this conundrum no matter how bravely I confronted it by myself. I instinctively knew I needed people like my brothers who were there, to help me exorcise these ghosts. I pressed both buttons. I heard the Dungeon Master on the ear phones. “Are you in distress?” he asked softly.

Green light.

“Can you go on?” he asked.

Red light. Flash! Flash! Flash!

Master Jim didn't realize how wet it was on the deck underneath my head where I was crying for hours. He wheeled the gurney under me and once again I was released onto the leather futon with my family. This time I looked at Chief, Blaine, and Cowboy with the horror still coming from my soul. They knew immediately and lunged for me. They held me, and I cried in their arms. Master Jim gently ask the others to withdraw. They were concerned but complied. They didn’t go far. Blaine, Chief, and Cowboy must have held me for over an hour. I couldn’t cry anymore, I was just heaving and shaking uncontrollably. Master Earl came to me, and my brothers let go. They were emotionally exhausted. My master took me into his arms and spoke kindly but firmly. “Listen to me. Listen to my voice, you’re all right, Son. That's enough. Now, stop it. Lean on your family and find strength with us. That’s an order, Slave,” he said quietly. I calmed down and stopped.

“I’m sorry, Master.” I replied.

“Shhuuu...” he calmed me, “I’ll never let you be hurt again. I made that promise to Wes, and I make the same promise to you. Trust your master, boy,” he said.

Master Earl’s strong, no-nonsense, voice of authority had a way of calming me when I was out of it. In his arms, I was okay. The world was okay. His love was all encompassing, it surrounded me, it filled me and protected my soul, my very being. Our family gathered around us once more and there wasn't a dry eye among them. I felt the empathy from each and the love they showered on me was remarkable. Big Beryl held me so tight and cried in my arms until I had to calm him.

Master Bert was a love. He hugged and kissed me. “There’s no need for apologies. Not to your family. We love you unconditionally,” Master Bert said. Master Jeb was in tears and apologized for not noticing I was in distress sooner. He declared I was through with bondage. I passed. My giant was the last to hug me. He didn’t cry. He felt he needed to be strong, and he was right. I laid my head on his bare stomach, grabbed his hand, pulled it to my face, and kissed the back of it. He put his big arms around my head and pulled me to his chest. He kissed me on top of my head.

“I love you, Beaver,” he said quietly.

I finally arrived on the shores of tomorrow. A little less than I was, but in some ways, important ways, a lot more sure of myself than I was before.

* * * * * * *
It was good I was released early. The clan began to gather for the ceremony in the auditorium. Master Jeb and Jim went over the ceremony with me several times. I was not told of Oscar’s request I stand with him for his ceremony. The Dungeon Master ordered me to the showers and asked Chief and Blaine to get me ready for the ceremony. We were in a better mood, and I had a little to eat. I was feeling better. I told them they didn’t have to shower with me. They insisted. They showered, too. They both took a cloth and scrubbed me within an inch of my life. I was to remain in the dungeon until the ceremony started. I remained in the shower to purge myself. I came out, toweled, and then stood looking at my image in the floor length mirror.

'My, God, where did Beau go?' I thought. The man looking back at me was a remarkably handsome man. It couldn’t be me? There was no one else in the room so it must be me. Chief walked up behind me and caught me admiring myself. “You worked hard, Little Brother, and it shows. You are one hot piece of property. Look at my old dick. It can’t wait for my weekend with you. I think we can help each other. I want to be alone with you for a while. I’m looking forward to it,” Chief said.

“So am I, Chief. I was stunned when I found out you spent so much money for a weekend with me,” I said.

“It’ll be worth it, for both of us,” Chief replied.

The Dungeon Master came into the holding cell and spoke quietly to Chief telling him what to wear for the ceremony. All of Chief’s leathers were in one of the holding cells under lock and key. He had the key. He went off to get dressed. Master Jim brought me a large heavy dog collar, and placed it around my neck. He carefully snapped a small lock in the back to secure it. He snapped a leash onto the front ‘D’ ring. He already removed my plug. It was not to be in the ceremony. He held a long white robe he had me try on. It fit pretty well. It was floor length and had a hood. He pulled the hood up over my head and secured the front of the robe. Billy and Oscar walked in dressed in the same white robes. I asked them to stand with me in my ceremony. We set and talked for a while as the Dungeon Master left to check on the progress of the assembled.

Big Jim returned and his face lost its color. He was as pale as if he’d seen a ghost. He sat down with us and spoke with awe in his voice. “The entire family is here! There must be close to three hundred people in that auditorium. We told the caterer to plan for a hundred and fifty to two hundred. I hope we have enough,” he said shaking his head in wonder.

Billy and Oscar assured him there would be. Many people won’t eat. A lot will just pick.

“I hope you’re right. It’s my responsibility as Dungeon Master to see to it. I don’t want to be embarrassed,” he said.

“It’ll be all right, Master, trust me,” I said.

He looked at me funny and smiled. “That makes me feel better. Thanks, Beaver, your Dungeon Master thanks you,” he said, hugged me, and gave me a kiss. “Come, Son, it’s time for you to become a slave,” he said with some emotion. He took me into his big arms and hugged me again.

Oscar and Billy were practically in tears as they hugged and kissed me. Oscar spoke for both. “I requested you to stand with me for my ceremony after yours. Will you honor us by standing with Billy for me?" Oscar asked.

“I’d be thrilled and honored, Oscar. I love you both,” Master Jim took my leash and lead me up and out of the dungeon with Billy and Oscar following. We got to the door of the auditorium, and I could see there were not enough chairs for everyone. Some were standing. Everyone had a candle and they were lit. The three of us were given candles with small catch holders of aluminum. They were lit for us. We entered the old barn with the Dungeon Master leading me on my leash. Master Jim walked slowly, and I walked behind him. Oscar and Billy were to the side and behind me. I could see the masters in black robes on the right and the slaves were in white robes on the left. Everyone wore robes. Each master and slave held candles in small holders. There were candles on the stage and in the sconces on the wall and overhead. It gave to old band a unique, almost holy feeling.

The Dungeon Master led me to the stage and up the stairs to the middle of the stage. I didn’t look out into the audience. I was told to not look up until I was ordered. Billy and Oscar came to me. They undid my robe and Billy put the hood back. They moved behind me and removed my robe. The audience gasped and whispers ran through the assembled men. I thought something might be wrong. Then several began to clap, and they all started clapping. I didn’t look up.

I saw Master Jeb stand and raise his hand for silence. “Masters, slaves, friends and family we are gathered here to witness this man give up his former life for the life of consensual slavery. In our world he will no longer be a free man. He will become a slave. He will belong to me and our new Dungeon Master. At this time I will turn the ceremony over to our new Dungeon Master, Master Jim. I will join you as a spectator. Dungeon Master...” Jeb signaled for Big Jim to take over.

“Thank you, Master Jeb. Our slave has chosen twelve masters to assist in the ceremony. Will the following masters please come forward: Master Beryl, Master Sam, Master Earl D., Master Dirk, Master Bert, Master Zack, Master Wolf, Master Yates, Master Grainger, Master Bull, Master Red Feather, and Master Gunn.” The twelve masters came forward and stood at the base of the stage.

“Is there someone here who will give this man unto slavery?” the Dungeon Master asked.

'What’s this?' I thought, 'They didn’t say anything about someone giving me into slavery.'

“Aye! I will claim this man, my son, to give into slavery,” a strong masculine voice from the back of the hall said. I knew that voice. It was Jake. He had the balls to come to my ceremony and give me into slavery. I knew there was some reason I loved the man. During the first month of training his and my schedules were hectic. Jake's, because of being down a man at work and me because my days were pretty filled with activities. They kept me busier than a boys camp, but we did manage to get together a couple of afternoons with a promise of a better schedule after the first month.

“Will you come forward, sir?” I couldn’t see because I couldn’t look up. Jake walked up the aisle and took the Dungeon Master’s hand. “Would you go up and take a place behind your son, sir?” Jim asked.

“Happy to, Dungeon Master,” Jake replied and bounded up the stairs. When he approached me he stood before me for only a minute then snapped his fingers and pointed to his heavy work boots he wore especially for the occasion. I immediately feel to my knees, leaned over and lovingly kissed each boot. The audience went, “awww...” I could see Jake was also wearing a pair of his work coveralls. I heard him unzip them from the top down to his crotch. Jake parted the sides, slipped his hand in and pulled out his handsome cock and balls. “You will show you dad your love and respect, Slave. You will kiss my balls and then the head of my cock,” Jake ordered loud enough for all to hear.

Jake held his dick up and I leaned forward to lovingly kiss each of his balls. I managed to sneak in a little lick or two on each one as well. He lowered his massive cock and skinned the head back and I kissed the beautiful exposed head of his dick. I took just the head in my mouth and ran my tongue around it, withdrew, and kissed it again. The audience went “awww” again. I found Dad Jake’s hand waiting. I completed the ritual and jumped into his arms to hug and kiss him. The audience applauded. I still had my eyes diverted to the ground. He took his hand and raised my head to look him in his watery eyes. There were tears running down my cheeks. “I told you I would give you into slavery,” he said.

He threw his arms around me again, hugged, and kissed me on the mouth. I didn’t hold back from him this time. I knew he needed it as much as I did. “I love you, Dad, you’re a special man. Thanks,” I said quietly to him.

“God, Son, you know I’d do anything for you. You don’t know how much I’ve missed you at work,” he whispered.

Billy and Oscar showed Jake where to stand. Billy took our candles, snuffed them and placed them on a table. Then from the bottom of the stage the Dungeon Master said to me in a loud booming voice, “Petitioner slave, do you wish to become a slave before this assembly?” he asked.

“I it is, indeed, my wish, sir,” I replied.

“Have you been forced, coerced, intimidated, or threatened to request this petition?” he asked.

“No, sir, I have not,” I replied.

“Do you realize the ramifications of your actions?” he asked.

“Yes, sir, I do sir,” I replied.

“Does the assembled masters and family wish to grant this slaves request?” Big Jim asked the audience.

“Aye!” from nearly three hundred people. There was a large cowhide laid out on the stage in front of me. “The petitioner slave will be prepared for the ceremony,” the Dungeon Master commanded. Billy and Oscar had me lie prone on a leather cowhide with my arms out to form a cross. They unrolled another cowhide to cover my body. They tucked it in and around my arms and sides of my torso and legs. It felt wonderful, like a second skin. I was alone within, but I could hear everything clearly.

“Those who have been asked to speak on behalf of this slave please come forward,” the Dungeon Master requested.

I could hear movement. I wasn’t told about this. I had no idea about this part of the ceremony. “The first to speak will be Master Jim Red Feather. Master Red Feather...” Big Jim moved aside for Chief to stand at the podium.

“Beau and I were in Vietnam together; not really together, but at the same time. We were in separate units but knew each other. We met each other several times. When I got to Nam, he was already a legend. He was awarded more Purple Hearts than any other field corpsman in the war. Rumor was, he threw away the last four. I was determined to beat him and become as well known. I never knew his real name. You get nicknames in the service and that’s what everyone knows you by. I was ‘Chief,’ for obvious reasons,” he said and everyone laughed, “and he was known as ‘Br’er Rabbit.’

"We waved from the med-e-vac choppers when we saw each other in the field. One day I came upon a medic who was shot up and bleeding pretty bad. It was Beau. We always took care of our own. I patched him up and stayed with him until the last E-vac ‘Hewey’ came for us. He was sent home. I went to see him off at the airport but his plane was taxing down the runway when I arrived. I could only wave to him. He saw me and waved back. I never saw him again until a month ago when I applied for a job, and he was the hiring interviewer.

"We didn’t know until after I was hired where we knew each other. I beat him with the hearts by one but the son of a bitch blew me out of the water with a fucking bronze star for heroism,” Chief said and grinned. The audience chuckled, gasped, and lightly applauded. “Since that time we have grown close as friends. No, that’s not quite true, I've come to love Beau James. He’s my brother. I’m proud to know him and call him my friend. I recommend him highly to this assembly,” he said. The audience gave Chief a standing ovation.

“The next to speak will be Master Beryl’s slave, Blaine,” said Master Jim.

“Like Chief, I too, was with Beau in Nam. My platoon was ambushed. Most were killed and eight of us were captured by the VC. We were placed in a holding area to be sent North later. We were forced into small bamboo cages about three feet square. Beau got separated from his outfit after being ambushed while he was trying to evacuate casualties. He ran into the jungle, wandered around for a couple of days, and found a dry cave to rest in. That night he left the cave and saw firelight. He went to see if it was friendly. He slowly peaked over a small ridge and saw us crammed into cages. Slowly and quietly he cut seven of us out of the cages and led us to the cave where we were, at least, temporarily safe. The eighth man was already dead in his cage. Beau could do nothing for him. I was wounded, but he managed to carry me back to the cave.

That night everyone was in shock. Everyone was fighting and bickering about what to do. Beau was having none of it. He knew what to do. He simply took charge. He reminded each man he saved their butts, and they owed him their Goddamn lives. Fuck military protocol! He could speak fluent Vietnamese, and if they wanted to live they would do as he damn well told them. Beau went out and got us food.

“The men came to respect him more after he brought back enough food for everyone. After resting in the cave a couple of days and nights, we knew we had to try to get back. Beau became hated by the men except me and one little guy who fell very much in love with him. The men were also scared to death of him. I was ranking officer, but I was lame. I turned command over to Beau, a non-com corpsman who never shot a gun before. Sounds like a dumb thing to do, huh?” Blaine said and grinned. The audience laughed.

“Believe me when I tell you, it was the smartest damn move of my life. Well, let’s say it was the first smartest move. The other smartest move of my life was becoming a slave to my master, of course,” he said. More laughter. "Beau took charge and he was going to get us all back or beat the shit out of any guy who said differently. There wasn't a doubt in my mind he would’ve done it, too. To this day, I'm convinced he would have if any man gave him any shit. They didn’t. They were too damn afraid of him.

“Beau essentially became big daddy to us but he was not without compassion. I watched him encourage, comfort, and reassure every man individually. I also saw him nip any talk of discouragement or conflict among the men in the bud. He became the voice of authority and everyone, including me, fell in line behind the young corpsman who dropped his quiet manner and became an instant boot camp drill instructor who would tolerate no nonsense from his men. Today, I understand his actions were not one of a ‘boo-ra’ alpha-male hyper-testosterone regular army non-com, but rather a deeply instilled need to serve and survive.

“That may sound like a dichotomy, but the outcome was the same. He got the job done. Beau worked harder than any of the other men to see to our survival. e also was not afraid to share his love with any man in our platoon if they needed it. The first night in the cave, one little guy was so frightened he clung to Beau like a child afraid to leave his parent on the first day of school. Beau never scolded him or rebuked him, but tried to give him as much comfort as possible. He held him, petted him, and promised he would get him back safely. He only asked the kid to trust him and believe in him.

“Beau was showering the small man with his attention and affection. He held him and would gently kiss him behind his ear or on his neck to calm him. The kid found Beau’s mouth, gave him a real kiss and didn’t hold back. Neither did Beau. One thing led to another and the next thing we knew Beau ordered the kid to get his clothes off and told him, ‘What chu’ need, Little Brother, is a good-old, down home, cowboy, hard-riding, ass fucking. It'll straighten ya’ right out, Son! And, I’m just the man what can give it to ya.’ Get chore’ damn clothes off, Soldier. Now!’ He commanded the young man. The kid couldn’t get his fatigues off fast enough, and almost ripped Beau’s off of him. That night, in front of six other G.I.’s, Beau made the sweetest love to the small man and fucked the hoe-lee snot out of him.”

The audience laughed and applauded. Blaine paused for the audience’s reaction then continued, “No one said a word. It was the only thing what made any sense to any of us at the moment. We were all scared out of our wits. Two men making love in the midst of horror seemed not only right, it was exactly what we needed to witness. Their passion had a great calming effect on every man. Gay or straight, each man envied that little man under Beau. They wanted to be the one receiving Beau’s love and in a way, we all shared in their passion.

“It was because of the memory and the intensity of passion I witnessed in that cave that night, I ultimately found the courage to become a slave to my master. I needed to find that passion for myself; however, I was looking in all the wrong places. I fancied myself a straight man when my master found me and made me his slave. He told me he would give me the love I needed. He was the only person in my life who ever demanded a commitment of me. He brought to me the intensely passionate love I was unwittingly looking for. I have never regretted a moment of being his slave.

“My leg and ankle were so badly shot up, the other guys wanted to leave me behind. Beau would hear none of it. He personally carried me for miles on his back. I would beg him to leave me behind. I told him I just couldn’t go on. He wasn’t about to hear any of it from me, either. He carried, dragged, badgered, or threatened the others to help him get me back. He got my ass back safely through damn near forty-two miles of enemy territory.

“Beau learned to speak fluent Vietnamese. He was the only man of our group who could speak and understand the Vietnamese language and his communication skills helped immeasurably. Because he cared enough to learn their language, he managed to gain cooperation from villagers to hide us and give us food. Needless to say, we made it back, and I put him in for the bronze star. I owe my life and happiness with my master to this slave. To me he will always be my savior, my hero, my inspiration, and my brother. I recommend him highly to this assembly,” Blaine finished. There was thunderous applause for Blaine. They gave him a standing ovation.

“The next speaker will be Master Earl D. Shaw. Master Shaw...” the Dungeon Master turned the microphone over to Earl D.

“I have known this slave for a short while, but aside from having to give him a speeding ticket on Silverlake boulevard, we have grown close,” he said. Everyone chuckled at his understatement. “The first weekend he spent with me, a picture dropped from his wallet of his little buddy and lover in Vietnam. The man in the picture was the small man Beau made love to and fucked in the cave Blaine described for you. The picture was not only of Beau’s little lover in Vietnam it was of my last slave, Wes, who died several years ago in a plane crash,” he said. There were mummers and ‘awws’ that ran through the crowd. “Remarkable coincidence? Several people don’t think so. Years later, Wes would tell me the story and then say, ‘You know what, Master? It did straighten me right out. I wasn’t afraid anymore. I knew if Beau wasn’t afraid to show me love in front of those men, he wasn’t afraid of anything. I knew he would get us back. I trusted him.’ If it were not for the slave on this stage before you, I would not have known the love of a wonderful human being and a good slave. I highly recommend him to this assembly,” Master Earl finished. More applause.

“The next person to speak for our slave petitioner will be slave Billy,” Big Jim said. The audience applauded for Billy as he walked to the podium.

“Thank you. The first time I met Beau, he told me I looked exactly like his boyhood jack-off fantasy man, Clancey McGee,” he said. The audience went nuts laughing. “When I told him I was Clancey McGee, it didn’t lessen his attraction for me a bit. He told me he carried my picture in his wallet for seven years in Vietnam. I thought he was kidding. He went to get his wallet and carefully unfolded a ragged picture of me from a muscle magazine from the early sixties. He wasn’t lying. I highly recommend this slave,” Billy concluded. A standing ovation for Billy.

“The next speaker will be Master Zack. Master Zack...” The Dungeon Master said.

“This man touches everyone he meets. My young slave and I were attending an afternoon get together at Big Beryl and Blaine’s place in the desert. Master Beryl introduced Beau to the family and all the proper rituals were performed by him, but Beau went out of his way to make my slave feel important, special, and admired. As most of you know, doctors removed my slave’s penis, not because I wanted him that way, but because he suffered massive physical abuse as a child in various foster homes and developed cancer in that portion of his body. The doctors gave us no options. It was malignant and was spreading rapidly.

"I told him I didn’t want to do it, but if he wanted to live, we must give them permission. I assured him I would never love him less, but after the operation he spiraled into a depression no pills or therapy could touch. Not even my love for him seemed to matter. That evening after meeting Beau something in him snapped, he was himself again and has been gaining self-confidence every day since. I ask him what Beau said to him, but he respectfully declined to tell me. I ask Beau what he told him and he said, unless I could get his master to order him to tell me, it would remain a confidence between him and my slave. A wise master knows when to back off,” Zack smiled. The audience laughed.

Before he left for the evening, in front of many of our family members and their guests, Beau singled out my slave to say goodbye to him. Beau graciously asked my permission and did so with perfect slave manners,” he said. Tears were running down Master Zack’s face at this point. “Again, he shared something with my slave, told him to love and be good to his master. He has been a good slave-boy ever since. I have told you this story with my slave’s blessing. No, that ain’t quite true neither. I have told you this story at my slave’s insistence,” Zack paused for a minute and smiled at Button. “There’s no way I can repay this man for such a small act of kindness which has brought joy back into my life. Do I recommend this man? You bet your ass I do,” he finished. Thunderous applause as Button ran to his master, hugged, and kissed him.

“I will speak last for this slave,” Master Jim said.

“What could I add to what you’ve already heard except to tell you Master Zack is right. This young man, indeed, touches the lives of everyone he meets. It’s not customary, but I want to read to you a brief portion of his slave journal. These are usually kept private and are never seen by anyone but the Dungeon Masters. I'm making a exception to that rule tonight, and I think you will see why. This young man has come a long way from the brash, cocky, butch-bottom who came into Master Jeb and my lives a couple of months ago,” he said.

The Dungeon Master began to read: ‘I came to a crossroad in my life. There didn’t seem to be a road I dare try. I was ready to end my life at the crossroads. Life made no sense. Is it only getting through it, day by day, until we die? Why go through the anguish or the heartache? Why go through any more pain? Why not end it now and avoid the rush? Those were the thoughts that ran through my mind. I didn’t have any direction or purpose to my life. I was living in my own self-created hell. A poem by W. H. Auden haunted me: When the bells jostle in the tower; The midnight hour amid; Then on my tongue the taste is sour; Of all I ever did.

"I’ve learned the hopelessness of life seems worse when I’m without someone to serve; someone to love. Serving and loving are almost synonymous to me. Without someone to serve, I can not love. Two men cared enough to offer me options. Options so radical and frightening my instincts told me to run away, yet I was fascinated by the passion and intensity of their message. They helped me choose a road. The road to become a slave. By accident, I met a third master who has taught me we should never shy away from the possibility of new love. I fell in love with him. It is my greatest wish I may serve him as his slave someday.

"And, what of masters and slaves? A slave serves and loves his master. Yet in all the relationships I’ve witnessed masters love their slaves, provide for them, take care of them, and see to their health and their needs. Which is the greater service? Who's the master? Who's the slave? Does not the acceptance of responsibility of any living creature make you a slave to it? Is love by any other definition still love? I don’t have the answer to those questions. It doesn’t seem important any more.

"I have found a road I must travel for better or worse. When provided with new avenues, a person can imagine the wonders of new worlds. I look down that new road and see a life I hope to live. A life of serving, loving, and belonging to a good master. I can see love down that road. If for no other reason, that would be enough to make me choose it. For without love, there would've been no options at that crossroad. Without viable choices, I probably would be dead.

“During one of my bondage sessions, I was visited by being of light. He called himself a ‘Child of God.’ He told me we are here to love one another. The only important thing to God is we learn to give and receive love while we’re here. Therefore, because of the unconditional love shown to me thus far, I make this decision to become a slave because I choose to live, but more importantly I choose to love. ~ Beau James 1972'

“I also recommend this slave to this assembly,” finished Big Jim to thunderous applause.

“We will now continue with the ceremony. Will the twelve masters please step across our slave petitioner?” the Dungeon Master asked. Each of the men stepped across my body. Together they read these words. “We have taken your former life from you and hold it with us in trust,” the men recited in unison.

Master Jim stepped to the table in front of the stage and spoke, “Masters have you taken this slaves former life from him and do you hold it in trust?” He solemnly asked.

“We have and we do, Dungeon Master,” the twelve men replied.

“It is done then. I ring the bell,” he said and rang a small bell.

“Close the book on his old life,” he said and closed the bible on the table.

“And dowse the candle,” he said and blew out the candle. Everyone blew theirs out at the same time. “Our slave petitioner is dead to his former life,” Master Jim said with authority.

The table was moved to the right side of the stage.

“I will asked the assembled masters to cross back over our slave petitioners body one by one,” he said. The men stepped over me and gathered on the right side of the stage and spoke these words. “We now grant your petition, Slave. From this day forth you will live your life in servitude to a master or this family. “Do you recognize this man as a slave, Masters?” he asked the twelve men.

“We do, Dungeon Master,” they replied.

“So be it. It is accomplished. The slave’s transformation is complete,” said the Dungeon Master.

He turned to the table again. “I light the candle. I open the Book to his new life, and I ring the bell. Arise slave and stand before your masters,” the Dungeon Master ordered. With Billy and Oscar's help, I got up and stood with my head bowed. “Lift your head slave and be proud to look upon your masters,” the Dungeon Master commanded.

I did and every one started applauding. Billy handed me my unlit candle. Master Jim walked over with the candle he lit and lit mine. I lit Billy’s and Oscar’s. They lit the twelve Master’s on the stage. They went out into the audience and lit theirs until every candle was lit. I was told this action was to symbolize the importance of family unity. When they finished, Billy and Oscar returned to the stage.

“Kneel before your chosen masters, Slave,” Master Jim commanded.

I gave my candle to Oscar and moved in front of the twelve men on the stage and knelt.

“You will show each master your love, homage, and appreciation, for granting your petition and acknowledging that you are now a slave,” Master Jim ordered.

I was to kiss each one’s boots and then beneath their robes their cock and balls were exposed so I might kiss them in homage. The last in line was my dad Jake. “I’m only doing as I was instructed by your masters, Son,” he whisper to me with the biggest grin on his face, “I agree with your masters, you started this ceremony paying homage to your old man, and it’s only fitting he be the last of these men you show homage to,” Jake said.

Jake didn’t have a robe but an old pair of his coveralls. It didn’t matter, he looked hot. His coveralls were unzipped and ready for me. I grabbed him around the waist and held my face to his crotch. I kissed and licked each of his big heavy boots, and found his cock and balls waiting for me. I showered them a little extra love. He was pleased and happy for me. When I finished I was instructed to stand. I walked to the middle of the stage and Master Jim spoke as the Dungeon Master.

“Gentlemen, slaves, friends, and family I present to you our new slave,” the Dungeon Master said. I got a standing ovation. First one in my life. Probably the last, too. “After our next ceremony our slave will be happy to receive and pay homage to any master in the house tonight. Our transformation ceremony is ended,” he declared.

With that the masters on the stage rushed to hug me and kiss me. Master Jim asked for everyone to postpone congratulations to all until after the next ceremony. Billy grabbed me by the arm. Billy, Oscar, and I walked out the side door. Everyone remain seated. Master Bert met us at the entrance. There was Master Earl and Master Beryl waiting for us. The two masters walked first followed by Master Bert who led Oscar by his leash, followed by Billy and me. The slaves were in the buff.   We got to the front, and Billy and I stood behind Oscar. The two masters stood behind Master Bert.

The Dungeon Master conducted the brief ceremony. “To all who have gathered here we have a master, Master Bert, who has made claim for our family slave, Oscar. Oscar has acknowledged his claim and comes before us to ask our permission and request our blessing to transfer ownership from our family to Master Bert. How do you all say?” he asked.

“Aye!” they replied in unison.

“Are there any Nays?” Silence. “Oscar, your family has found it meet and right to give you unto Master Bert to be his property. Make your family proud, serve your new master well, Slave,” Master Jim said.

With a kiss the ceremony was over. Billy was a mess. I had to hold him as he cried, then he held me while I cried, then we both held Oscar as he cried. Then the confusion of the evening began. I was taken by Master Jim to the side of the stage where I was told to kneel for any and all masters to pay homage to them. I must have kissed several hundred pairs of boots, cocks, and balls. It was one of the best experiences of my life. Everyone partied until late in the night.

I got a little tipsy and was clinging to Master Earl. Master Jim saw me and spoke to Earl. “He needs to be put to bed. Would you like to stay over. We have the end bedroom upstairs open if you want to take him up there.” Master Earl thanked him, I said goodnight to those who were left, and we went upstairs. The bed was already made. I helped my master off with his boots and leathers. I was so glad to be alone with him. “Master I don’t know if I can make it through another two months,” I said from emotional exhaustion.

“Listen to you. Look at you! You look great! You look better than you have in your life. You're not the same young man I stopped on Silverlake Boulevard. Master Jim is working you hard, and you're growing in other directions as well. The worst part’s over, you’re now a slave. Be happy with me tonight, Slave. I'm happy for you,” he said. Master Earl was right as usual.

“You’re right, Master, it’s just I miss you so damn much,” I said.

“I know you do. I miss to, too, but visitation starts next weekend, and we'll get to see each other then. Hang in there, Tiger, you’re almost home,” he encouraged me.

Officer Earl D. Shaw made love to his intended slave. Rarely did my master ever make gentle, tender, sweet love to me, but he did that night. He knew I was on an emotional roller coaster and needed some down home lovin.’ He provided just what I needed. I drifted off to sleep in the arms of the man, to whom, I committed myself. There was no doubt in my mind, I did the right thing.

* * * * * * *
Part IV ~ All In The Family

Do not caress the lonely Manticore
Do not unless your hand is gloved
Feeling alone, feeling betrayed
He often bites the hand he really meant to kiss
Under his pillow he keeps Solomon’s Seal
And late at night he battles with the Sphinx
From: The Unicorn, The Gorgon, and the Manticore ~ G. C. Menotti

There were a number of people for breakfast the next morning. Oscar was in the kitchen with Billy cooking. I joined them to help. Master Jim came down with Chief to have coffee. They spent the night together in Big Jim’s room. I hoped something happened, but I wasn’t about to ask either one. I knew neither one could keep it from me for long, especially if I paid no attention to them. My lack of interest, I knew, would drive Master Jim nuts. Which is exactly what I did. I handed them each a cup of coffee and winked at Chief. He blushed.

Dirk and Allen went home for the night but returned with sweet rolls and dough-nuts. Master Sam and Yoshie returned and were there for brunch. Master Zack and Button stayed over and were coming downstairs. Button ran to me, we hugged, and kissed. I put him to work with the rest of us. Being around Billy and Oscar was a big boost for Button. He fell in love with them and they were generous with their time. Button confided in me he wished he was smooth at his crotch like Billy and Oscar. I told him to ask his master to consider it.

“I’m afraid to, Beau,” he made a slight grimace.

“He loves you, Button. Master Zack's a good man. I’m sure he would listen if you asked him to consider your request. They don’t have to remove your testicles. They can sew them up inside you, remove the sack, and make you smooth like Billy and Oscar.”

“Really? No one told me that was possible. Okay, Beau, I will. I trust you, and I love you, Beau,” Button said.

“I know you do, Little Brother, and I will always love you,” I assured him.

Oscar was getting everything ready. Beryl and Blaine came up from the dungeon. They looked like they fucked half the night. Sam’s nickname for Big Beryl of horny old goat seemed to fit. Beryl was certainly a lovable and good looking horny old goat. I was happy for him and Blaine they were finding renewed vigor in their relationship. Blaine washed his hands and started helping with breakfast. General Oscar could use all the help he could get. I again congratulated him, he smiled, blushed and thanked me for standing with him. Billy was better this morning, but couldn't keep his hands to himself. He was all over me. He told me how great he thought I was looking and was looking forward to my weekend with Master Bert.

I was in a mellow mood because my master could be with me a while longer, and I could rest up for Monday. We finally got breakfast ready and served. Everyone went out under the tree to the big table. Master Beryl stood. “To our new slave, our new master and his slave! Welcome, to our family! As the old saying goes: we haven’t lost a good slave we've gained a good master. Last night we gained a fine new slave and a excellent new master and his slave. We are the richer for them,” he said.

“Hear! Hear!” Everyone said in unison. Glasses clinked all around.

Master Earl was sitting next to me. We were talking quietly. “Do you know anything about this ‘Master Bear,’ Beau?” he asked.

“No, sir, I don’t. I overheard Master Jim speaking to Master Jeb about him, but he doesn’t know him either,” I replied.

Master Bert overheard us and said he knew him well. “He’s an enormous bear of a man with a magnificent body, well endowed, and wealthy. He has several slaves but is looking for a special slave to be his number one and be over the others. He’s a strict disciplinarian and won’t tolerate any nonsense from his slaves; however, he’s also a fair and loving man. I don’t know how he found out about Beau because we didn’t tell him. I hadn’t seen him in several years until recently. He was wearing a full sculpted leather hood which fit over his head like a second skin, but he wouldn’t remove it,” Master Burt said.

“Where does he come from?” I asked.

“He has a mansion in the desert near Twenty-Nine Palms. It’s a beautiful place, private, and secluded. He also goes by the name Captain Fantastic. Have you heard that name?” Master Burt asked.

None of us had, except Billy and Oscar. Master Earl raised an eyebrow and looked at Billy. “How long have you known him, Billy?” he asked.

“Ten, maybe fifteen years. More like fifteen. He was a good friend of George’s. We socialized for a number of years. When George died he had his attorneys handle George’s estate and saw to it I would be well taken care of. I haven’t heard from him except the usual Christmas card with a brief note. I heard he recently relocated to California from Texas where he lived for many years and made his fortune in oil. He was a fine looking, handsome man.

"A number of years ago he was in a fire. He rushed into the fire to save one of his slaves, and as I understand it, his face was badly burned. He wears a full leather hood in public everywhere he goes because of the disfigurement. To compensate he’s worked his body to perfection and is buffed out to the max. He’s going through extensive reconstructive surgery but doesn’t want anyone to see him until it’s done. The hood is remarkable, ‘cause it fits so well you would think you’re talking to a black man,” Billy said.

I looked at Master Earl and he shrugged like, 'I don’t know what to think.' At the time, it didn’t seem to be any mystery to him. Neither Master Earl nor Master Jim ever heard of the man. Master Sam joined us and heard bits of the conversation. Yoshie was sitting directly across from me and smiled. “You guys talking about the Captain?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Master Earl replied.

“The guy they call Captain Fantastic?” Sam asked.

“Yeah,” Oscar replied, “Do you know him Master Sam?” Master Earl asked.

“Yeah, I use to ride with him and some other guys. He wasn’t wealthy back then; although, he’s always had money and is generous to a fault. Paid for an engine over-hall on my old bike for me in Mobile, Alabama one time when I didn’t have enough to cover it. Told me to pay him when I could. Never asked for a signature or anything. It was done on a handshake. He said he knew I was a cowboy and believed in the cowboy code. I assured him I was a cowboy once and did believe in the cowboy way. I repaid him plus interest about a year later. He’s a good man. One of the finest. Heard he got disfigured in a fire about three years ago. I introduced him to Yoshie about a year ago, wasn’t it, Yoshie?” Sam asked his slave.

“Yes, sir, Dad. We were on the Pike’s Peak run. We kept seeing this big guy ride by on a Harley, and he’d wave. He was wearing a leather hood and you didn’t recognize him,” Yoshie said.

“When he stuck out his hand and spoke to me, I knew from his voice who he was. He must have been burned pretty bad to wear that hood everywhere, but it fits him perfectly. Whoever made it is a fine leather craftsman. I’d love to have one like it; for display purposes only, you understand?” Sam grinned.

“Yeah, sure Dad, they understand,” Yoshie said laughing. Everyone else laughed.

“Why do they call him, Captain Fantastic?” I asked innocently.

“Thank you, God!” Sam said looking up to heaven, “I just knew you’d be the one to ask that question. Bingo! Now, gimme’ yore’ best guess, Buckroo,” he said with a big grin.

“Oh!” I replied.

“It’s unbelievable,” Sam said, “There’s a rubber husband on the market what was made from a plaster mold of his cock,” Sam said.

“Yes, Dad, now tell these nice men the rest,” Yoshie urged his master.

“Well, we just happen to have one, he sent it to us as a Christmas gift, and we keep it around for display purposes only, of course,” Sam said again.

“Of course, Master Sam,” I said dryly, “we understand.”

Everyone whooped and roared with laughter at Sam. “Be honest, Dad,” Yoshie goaded him

“Well, we may have played around with it a couple of times,” he admitted blushing.

“A couple of times?” Yoshie said with surprise, “Will you give me a quarter for every time you had that thing up my ass?” he asked. Everyone was falling out at Yoshie. He was funny.

“Now, Slave,” Sam jokingly scolded Yoshie, “Damn, I can’t take him anywhere,” he said as an aside.

Everyone continued to laugh. “You gonna’ spent a weekend with him, Beau?” Yoshie asked.

“Rumor has it, Yoshie,” I replied.

“Remember our secret pact, Beau?” he asked.

“I remember,” I replied.

“I’m the first one you call when you get back,” Yoshie reminded me.

“Right, Tiger,” I said and winked at him.

Everyone was laughing. Master Earl wasn’t. I wanted desperately to change the subject. “Is your dad still doing those exquisite acrylic sculptures, Yoshie?” I asked.

“Yes, he just finished a chess set that’s being presented to the Mayor of Los Angeles for his birthday next month,” Yoshie said with considerable pride.

“Does he ever do commissions for people?” I asked.

“What, you want an acrylic dong toy for your master to use on you?” Sam asked joking.

“Believe me, Sam, my master doesn’t need any more toys. Besides, the real thing is more than adequate for me. I need to show you something later, in my cell in the dungeon, Yoshie,” I said quietly.

“Why don’t you bring it out and show it to your family, Son?" Master Jim asked, "We’re finished with brunch. I know everyone here would love and appreciate the story,” urged the Dungeon Master.

“Well, my master hasn’t seen it nor does he know about it. Is that an order, Dungeon Master?” I asked.

“No, Son, we discussed it, and you know my feelings. I don’t think you have a damn thing to feel bad about. It’s a wonderful and loving story. A bit bizarre, but it's humorous, touching, and caring. Share it with your family, Son. Let them be the judges. Maybe their opinions will be of help to you,” he urged.

“You’re right, Master Jim. I’ll get it. May I be excused for a moment, Master Earl,” I remembered my manners.

“Of course, Slave, hurry back,” my master said. I left to get Josh Cochran’s cock.

“Gentlemen," spoke the Dungeon Master softly to the men at the table, "the night he told me this story I couldn’t believe it, but I promise you, it’s a true story. You know how thoughtful he can be and how some things rip him a new asshole emotionally, well this one’s for the books. I could prepare you, but it won’t do no good. You wouldn’t believe me anyway. You have to see it for yourself to believe it. I told him what he did was not to be considered perverted but very loving. You be the judge...here he comes,” the Dungeon Master said.

I handed my box to my master and he started to open it. Please, Master Earl, don’t open it yet. Let him tell his story,” the Dungeon Master gently requested.

I started to tell the story of Josh Cochran and how I tried to get six surgeons to reattach his severed penis to no avail. I told of my frustration when they refused to even try. I was crying at that point and had to stop until I got myself together.

“I heard this story in Nam and dismissed it as a rumor. My, God, Beau, it really happened?” Chief asked.

“I knew Josh Cochran, well. We went through OTS (Officer Training School) together and we were shipped to Nam at the same time. Holy Shit, Beau!” Blaine exclaimed.

“The horrible part was, I was so angry and pissed because of the arrogant indifference of the doctors. I knew I had to do something for him; my memory of his strength, his understanding, and patient acceptance of a living nightmare, all because of the innate human programming to survive, to continue living; I didn’t want the man’s cock to go without love one last time. I pulled two rubbers over it, tied them off with a string, greased my ass good, shoved it up my butt as far as I could get it. Then I went and fucked the devil out of Wes three or four times. He told me he didn’t know what got into me, but it was the best fuckings I ever gave him. I thought, ‘If you only knew,’” I related my story.

Everyone was rolling on the ground laughing at me, but I didn’t mean it to be funny. Then I began to see the humor myself and for the first time I allowed myself to laugh. “Well, the worst part was, I slept with it up my butt all night long,” I added. More laughter from my family. “I was making one of those monkey pod coffee tables you pour with acrylic and put shells and seahorses in. When you polish it real good you can see through it. I made a little box and encased Lieutenant Cochran’s cock in acrylic,” I said. I told my master to open the box. Everyone couldn’t believe as Master Earl slowly opened the box, carefully removed its contents, and held it up to the light. They were agog they were looking a Lieutenant Cochran’s penis.

“Damn, Son, what’s to be ashamed of about that story?” Big Beryl said coming over to hug me.

Sam stood up and hugged me. “You never cease to amaze me, you little shit. Now, I remember why we love you,” he said and the men around our table laughed.

“Shit,” Blaine cursed, “the man had a nice penis. What a waste,” he lamented.

“Beau’s exactly right about what they told us to do in the field,” Chief said in my defense, “It was stupid military bullshit. Most of the corpsmen who worked with me ignored their silly nonsense. We were there to save lives if we could. It happened quite often, some guy would get his dick and balls shot off. I’d save the guy every time. I didn’t give a shit what they told us. I wasn’t going to leave a man to bleed to death when ten minutes of my time could save his life. They actually told us to walk away and let them bleed to death. Their explanation: they thought it was better for a man to die than have to live without a cock and balls. Typical macho military bullshit thinking. Look at Billy, Oscar, and our handsome little Button. He’s gonna’ be fine. Did I do the wrong thing? Did Beau?” he asked.

Everyone was telling us we did the right thing.

“I never shoved one up my ass, but I'll admit I gave it serious thought a couple of times. Sorry now, I didn’t. How’s that, Bro?” Cheif asked. He grabbed me and hugged me. “We’re all right, Buddy. You and me, we’re all right. It’s the rest of the world what’s fucked,” Chief declared.

Yoshie held it, looked at it, and marveled. “It’s perfectly preserved. It’s remarkable. I know what you want. You want me to ask my dad if he can sculpt it to the exact shape leaving enough to still preserve it,” he said.

“How’d ju’ know?” I asked him.

“‘Cause it’s exactly what I would do. It’s a wonderful idea. I can get x-rays at school as a blue print with exact dimensions to work from. I’m almost sure he would do it. He’s an excellent craftsman. If he doesn’t think he can do it, he’ll tell me. We’re pretty close, especially since mom died and he’s come to love Sam. He’d do anything for Sam. He know’s about us and is disappointed he’s not gonna’ have grand kids from me, but Hell, he’s got six others to give him all the grand kids he can handle. You think dad would do it, Master?” Yoshie asked Sam.

“If you ask him? Are you kidding? The sun rises and sets on his Son, ‘the doctor.’ Of course he’ll do it,” Sam assured him.

“Yeah, it’s nice to have his approval after all these years. Thanks to you, Dad,” Yoshie said to his master.

“Now, you’ve pushed me to tell secrets, fair is fair, tell them your good news or I will,” Sam gently admonished his slave.

“Oh, Dad, you can tell ‘em. After all, without you, it wouldn’t be happening at all,” Yoshie said blushing.

“Our new slave told us this would happen, and it has. Yoshie will begin his internship almost six month earlier than originally planned. The Hospital has an emergent need for new interns and sent out calls to the universities medical schools to send them their brightest, top students, and they would screen them with oral exams. Yoshie passed. His grades will still be the same and graduate with top honors; which, you're all invited to attend. We’ll send out invitations to the family. He starts as an intern tomorrow at Queen of Angeles in the E.R.”

Everyone went nuts and was hugging Sam and Yoshie. Yoshie was embarrassed but pleased his master was so proud of him. We all were. Everyone was in awe at the love that passed between Sam and Yoshie and how closely they were bonded. “May I take it with me, Beau?” Yoshie asked.

“Sure, Yoshie, I know you’ll be careful with it. I’d like to get it back to Lieutenant Cochran someday, if possible,” I said.

“I’ll be very careful, and dad will treat it like a holy relic,” he said.

“Doctor Yoshiro Tagame. How does that sound Yoshie? Big Beryl asked as he came up from behind and put his arms around Yoshie.

“It sounds pretty damn good, Dad Beryl, but I’d much rather hear you call me, Son,” Yoshie replied and smiled at him. The big man roared his big bear laugh, kissed him behind his ear, and told Yoshie he would always be his son.

* * * * * * *
Part IV ~ A Master’s Love

when I fell in love with you
my heart no longer mattered
it was as if the earth stood still
and all its minions scattered
From: Canto 2 ~ Slave Songs ~ W. D. Dux ~ Posthumous

I was now officially a slave. I didn’t feel much different. I always thought of myself as a slave, especially within the context of our family. They accepted the way I thought about myself and nothing changed really. Something was different, and I knew it was so subtle I was missing it. I began to have a wonderful afternoon with my master and the family. Everyone seemed to end up in Master Jeb and Master Jim’s pool. I wasn’t drinking anything because the next day was a work day. Was it ever. I told Sam I was looking forward to coming back to work to get some rest. He laughed and told me he thought the new Dungeon Master was doing one Hell of a job, and he hoped he kept it up. Sam said I was looking really good and wanted to see me look a lot better by the time I was ready to be sold to his brother, Master Earl.

It suddenly hit me while lying in my master’s arms on the deck by the pool; I’m free. Free! I had few personal possessions to fetter me. I could go anywhere, do anything, love the man I choose to love because I was free. I didn’t have to work toward the goal of becoming a slave. I was one. I was there. I arrived and I’m free. If you ask, how could I be a slave and be free, you haven’t been paying attention. Master Earl looked at me and smiled knowingly. “You just had a revelation. I can tell. I know that look. You want to tell your master about it?” he asked.

I looked at him, at what a truly handsome man he was, and spoke softly so that only he might hear. “I’m free, Master,” I said quietly.

“That’s the way your suppose to feel, Son,” he confirmed, “You’re an empty canvas ready to receive a master’s touch. Your next two months won’t be nearly as rough as the first one. That was slave boot camp, and it gets pretty rough. I watched what it did to you. You should've seen what it did to me, Woah! You came through in flying colors compared to me. Jeb was right. Only that training could make me know the soul of my slave. I’m not ashamed I went through it. I know now, why I did. I did it for you and Wes,” he said.

“I’m not ashamed of you admitting it either, Master. If anything I appreciate you telling me because it makes me think you wouldn’t ask something of me without putting yourself in the same position; making allowances for body modifications of course,” I said.

“You’re not worried about that are you?” he asked.

“Goodness no,” I replied. If you want them, take them. They’re yours anyway,” I said like a matter of accepted fact.

He took me in his arms and said softly, “I choose to let you keep them for a while,” he said. Master Earl gently kissed me. “Would you like to go back to the bedroom and please your master one last time before he must go home. I don’t want to overstay my welcome,” he said. I smiled a wicked smile. He responded, “Yes, I’ll even let you ride my pony if you like,” he added.

“How did you know what I was thinking?” I asked.

“Psychic powers are catching. Besides, I can read your mood swings like a book. I’m going to be a fine master for you. I’ll have you shaped up and jumping through flaming hoops in no time,” he said and grinned.

“I always wanted a showbiz career. I can see it now, ‘Officer Masters and his wonder slave. See death defying stunts. See the slave jump through flaming hoops perform a triple half gainer and land on a butt plug of enormous proportions,” I said trying to sound like a carnival sideshow huckster.

“God, if I could train you to do that, I’d never get the smile off your face,” he lamented.

I looked stunned. “Good one, Master,” I replied and laughed. I set myself up, “Good one,” I said again. “Would it be prudent or proper protocol for you to ask the Dungeon Master’s permission?” I asked.

“It would, indeed, Slave. Thanks for reminding me. Even masters, in the height of passion, sometime forget their manners. I’ll ask him,” he said as he turned and left me for a moment. I saw him take Big Jim aside to talk with him. I could tell Big Jim gave him permission as my master turned and walked away from the big man. The Dungeon Master looked at me and smiled as Master Earl was coming my way. He gave me the, okay, thumbs up sign. Then he grabbed his ass and walked like it hurt him, miming how I was going to walk after master got though fucking me. He could be a clown at times. I loved him dearly. Master Earl returned to me at pool side and said there was no problem. “The Dungeon Master was happy we could spend a little time together; said he thought you needed me right now,” Master Earl said.

“He knows me pretty well. How much do you know about him master?” I questioned Master Earl.

“Jeb and him have been buddies, partners, roommates, and companions for years. I don’t think they’re lovers. Maybe once upon a time, but no one knows for sure. No one knows much about Big Jim. I know they were in the service together; Korea and then the early days of Vietnam. They were going to be career Marines together,” Master Earl said.

“What kind of education would you say Master Jeb has?” I asked him.

“I can tell when you’re leading me down a path, Son. What’s this all about?” my Master asked.

“I’ll explain when we get to the rose garden. Trust me, there’s a point to this,” I said.

“Okay. Well, I don’t really know, but if I had to guess I’d say he has a master’s degree in Psychology or Sociology; perhaps some related field, but I don’t know for sure. I’ve never asked and some things you just don’t need to know about people. I know I have less education than you, but will you love me any less?” he asked.

“I’d love you if you were a pea picker,” I assured him.

“Like Cousin Ernie?” he asked.

“Yeah, I loved Cousin Ernie,” I said with enthusiasm.

“Yeah, me, too,” he replied.

“No, that’s not my point. Now, please, just play my stupid little game for a minute,” I led him on.

“All right, shoot!” he ordered.

“Well, I would say you’re probably correct about Master Jeb’s education, but to be honest I don’t know either. I don’t think I wanna’ know unless he wants me to,” I said. “What about Big Jim? I asked him.

“Hard to say. He can be surprisingly bright and seems to be intelligent, then other times he lapses into cowboy lingo so thick you'd think you were in the heart of Texas. I can’t imagine you loving anyone who wasn’t fairly bright. I would guess high school maybe two years college. Then again no one gets to know too much about him. He may be a brain surgeon for all I know,” Master Earl shrugged.

“Yeah, me, too. Well, thanks, Dad, that’s what I wanted to know,” I said like I was finished with my little game.

He was quiet for a moment then started laughing. “Do you have any idea how many ways I know to torture a smart ass slave-boy?” he asked with a wicked grin.

“No, sir, and neither do I want to count the ways, either. I’ll leave that to Elizabeth Barrett Browning. I promise, I’ll be a good slave. I’ll spill,” I said and smiled at him.

“Now, what’s the point to this little game?” he pressed.

“What would you say if I told you that our Dungeon Master holds a Doctorate from Oxford?” I asked.

“England?” he asked in reply.

“The same,” I said.

‘Nooo, really?” he asked.

“Master, I damn near shit on the floor when I asked him about a graduation picture on his dresser. It was his graduation from Oxford. I kid you not. He was a Rhodes scholar. Showed me his diploma. I couldn’t believe it. I asked myself why? Then why not? Furthermore, it’s in a subject I never hear of,” I confessed.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Biophysics,” I replied.

“What’s Biophysics?” he asked.

“I never found out. I didn’t want him to think I’s so dumb I didn’t know,” I admitted.

I laughed, and he laughed with me. “Yeah, I can see why. Fascinating. Big Jim, huh? Damn, that explains some things I wondered about for a long time. I’ll tell you about ‘em later. Let’s get upstairs,” he said.

We snuck off to the last bedroom. It was quiet upstairs as everyone was out by the pool. We made love for a while. “Are you worried about this Master Bear or Captain Fantastic?” I asked.

He was quiet for a minute. “I ain’t gonna’ lie to you, it concerns me. It’s a new, unexpected variable we didn’t count on. I want to have faith Wes hasn’t brought us along this far to let something or someone come between us. Don’t you slave?” he asked with just a hint of doubt in his mind. I think he was looking for my reinforcement.

“Yes, sir, but master you know when I tell you something is important you’ve learned to listen to me, right?” I asked.

“Yes, Son, I believe if you didn’t feel strongly about something you wouldn’t tell me. I’ve learned to trust you, so let’s hear it,” he demanded.

“There’s something not right about this. That’s all I got right now. Maybe I’ll get other thoughts, but I know something ain’t right. I must talk with Master Sam alone. We’ll be with him next weekend, and I’ll have a better chance to find out more. Yoshie’s a pushover. He tells me everything with his face,” I said and grinned.

“Do you feel it’s anything to worry about?” Master Earl asked.

“That’s the weirdest part. I get the feeling something’s wrong, but it ain’t threatening. It isn’t bad. How can that be?” I asked.

“I don’t know, Son. Let’s just keep our eyes and ears open and share anything we discover. I’ll run some records searches and vehicle registration search at work to see if there’s any records on him. We can sometime find out a lot from AKA’s. We’ll talk over the weekend. Now, what did we come up here for?” he asked with a grin.

I got busy and gave my master one Hell of a good ride. I would build him up, then stop short of getting him off. After the third time he threatened me with bodily harm if I didn’t take his Cadillac and park it in my garage. Like Master Zack said, a wise man knows when to back off or get his master off, or back his master off, whatever the case might be; you get the idea. You don’t have to be a Biophysicists to get that one; whatever the Hell that is?

I graduated from the boot camp of slave training. I didn’t get a diploma. I just got called ‘slave.’ I was called that before I spent a month in training. Where was I now? I wasn’t quite sure, but I had two more months to find out. I wanted to have one of those t-shirts printed up that says: I survived slave training boot camp, but all I got was fucked and this lousy damn t-shirt. Can I trade the shirt for another fuck?

Master Earl said goodbye to everyone in the late afternoon, and I walked him out to his bike. I wasn’t as sad to see my violet-eyed, handsome master depart; although, there was still a sizable lump in my heart. I stood looking at him, looking at the words he was speaking as they were going past my ear, my brain saw only his incredibly handsome chiseled face of rugged proportion, and saw his full masculine lips moving, the drone of his rich baritone voice. He could have been reciting ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb’ and I wouldn’t have cared he was so fucking gorgeous to look upon. He was more of an alpha-male than I could ever imagined in my wettest of dreams.

“Are you listening to me? Have you heard a word I’ve said?” he asked.

“Uh, yes, sir, every word, sir,” I said being jolted out of my reverie.

“Well, blah, blah, blah, blah...” he continued.

‘Damn he’s so handsome on that bike. I wonder if he’ll let me suck him off right here in the driveway. No, Beau! You can’t ask a God to rev his engine just so you can suck his dick. Look at those fucking boots. Have you ever seen a man wear boots like he can? I wonder if he’d let me eat them once more before he pulls away? I should be hanging on his every word, but I can’t because...oops! I think he just caught me glancing down at his boots. Oh, God! I’m fucked. I’m doomed. What to do?' I began to panic in my mind.

“What did I just say to you, Slave?” he asked aiming his question and firing point blank at me with a big grin spreading across his handsome face.

“Uh...how fair the moon this hallowed ‘eve...no, huh? Sorry Master, my mind was admiring the view," I said.

“But you were looking right at me?” he looked puzzled.

“I know...you are the view,” I said softly looking down at his boots again and giggled like a school girl with a major crush. I grabbed my crotch and got a look of pain on my face.

“You’re hopeless, but I love you anyway. See you next weekend and congratulations, Slave. I’m proud of you,” he said.

I watched as he pulled out of the driveway and headed down the hill with his right hand raised in a farewell salute. I was now a slave, as if I had any choice in the matter. He owned me, body and soul. The rest were, at best, I hoped, mere formalities. The other slaves who described becoming a slave were correct. It was almost a religious experience. I was reborn to life as a slave. One phrase kept repeating in my mind: Agnus Dei qui tollis peccata mundi miserere nobis et dona nobis pacem.

End Chapter 20 ~ The Ties That Bind
Copyright ~ © ~ 2000 ~ 2015 ~ Waddie Greywolf
All Rights Reserved ~
Mail to: <waddiebear@yahoo.com>
WC = 18045
05/30/2015