0028

What Darren wanted to do was to reach up and brush off the drop of sweat that had collected at the tip of his nose. It either tickled or itched, he wasn't sure. But with his hands tied behind him, that was kind of hard.

The second thing he'd do is stand and stretch his legs. A complex series of ropes ran from his tied-folded knees to the walls and back again. Moving his legs in any way caused the ropes to yank and pull on his cock in a way that wasn't wholly pleasant. Darren did it experimentally, and the sensation was good -- to a point.

His dick stayed semi-hard not quite retreating or becoming rigid. That concerned him. This was some sort of test, a way for Mistress Marie to determine if he really was the dominant he claimed to be.

His wife, Allie, was a true slave. A fact he hadn't known until she'd cheated on him with the Society members. But the offer Marie gave him -- a short time of submission, followed by an equal partnership with the other Masters and Mistress of this place -- that intrigued him.

"Some test, huh?" said a voice off to his left. It was too dark to see the man. Another person being tested, Darren thought, although he wasn't sure. Darren just knew the man hadn't shut up for more than half a minute the whole time they'd been down there.

They weren't gagged -- and they were ostensibly alone, but they hadn't been given permission to speak. Talking could just bring negative attention on them, get them in trouble. Didn't he know that?

"So, " the voice prattled on, "I never imagined anything like this. No way, I thought. I knew I'd be a slave all my days after I sold myself to the Society. But now, now -- to be a master, to have sex whenever and however I want. I can't wait, how about you?"

Darren paused. He and Allie had paid to be members. Then it clicked. "You're a Full-sell, aren't you?" Full-sells were property, not members. The Society could do ... permanent things to them, and the Full-sells knew it; most of them wanted it.

Of course, Darren thought wryly, the Society's definition of "permanent" was strange. It didn't cover scarification or tattooing. Either could be done to himself or Allie at any time.

"Yes," the man said. "I am." Then he began to babble on again.

Darren felt his dick go from semi-soft to full hardness as a cruel idea germinated in his mind. He pulled a bit on the ropes in a form of sadomasochistic glee, and enjoyed the pleasant sensation as it tugged against this cock.

"They'll never make you a Master," Darren interrupted the Full-sell's monologue. "Not a Full-sell. But they might make me one. You know that's true, right?"

"Yeah..." the other man said, quietly.

"Well, if I am a Master, I might cut your prick off and feed it to you. Maybe if I was annoyed. Maybe only if I wasn't." Doubtful, Darren thought to himself. It was too much, and he was male, after all, and therefore uninteresting. Men weren't his thing. But then, maybe control was his thing. His cock certainly seemed to think so. "What do you say to that?"

The man whimpered and whispered, with an air of awe and hope, "Would you... really?" Darren shook his head in wonderment and disgust. Takes all kinds, he thought. But it gave him something to use.

"Not if you don't shut up." He told the Full-sell. "If you say one more thing I not only will never consider it, I'll argue before the Master's council that it should never happen."

The man whimpered, and Darren commanded, "I mean it."

He didn't hear a song out of the Full-sell again. And that pleased him as much as passing the test.