Date: Tue, 26 Nov 2002 17:27:58 +0000 From: Graham Kavanaugh Subject: A Decision A Decision By: Graham Kavanagh 26th November 2002 please email feedback to fueroth@hotmail.com A Decision Awash in a crushing sea of bodies, noise and smoke, Bob found himself cursing again as more beer spilled over the rim of the glasses and onto the already-soaked tray that he was carrying. Dodging one man's elbow and another man's chair moving backwards, Bob picked his way through the crowd with grace that spoke of years of experience. Coughing slightly in the din and smoke, he circled around the room towards the table where his patrons were waiting patiently. On any normal night he would have said that the atmosphere was positively charged and the crowd were in high spirits. On any normal night he might have said the same for himself. Not tonight though. Tonight was different. Tonight he was working. Two Heineken and a Guinness; four scotch and red with ice; three Smithwicks, a Bulmers and a Miller. the orders kept coming unabated, and with no respite in sight for Bob, except for the still distant paradise that was his break. Two hours to go yet. He consoled himself with the fact that tonight the eye candy was especially good. Tonight was the men's night in the gay bar where he worked and already he had lived out three fantasy romances with some of the patrons and had estimated that two orgies and five romances later, he would be on his break at last. Forcing his way through another knot of men and passing the general congestion around the front of the bar, Bob was soon cursing again as he felt the crowd open reluctantly to let him pass and closing behind him, engulfing him as he pushed towards the table with his latest order, two cabernet sauvignons and a pint of Carlsberg. After finally setting the drinks on the table and collecting their payment (including a not insignificant tip) Bob returned to the bar and found a new order waiting for him. "Here, Bob." Alan told him, "Take these drinks here to the table in the corner there." Still cursing under his breath, Bob took the drinks, two cokes and a Guinness, and made his way carefully, to the table in question. There, he was greeted with a sight to give him pause. Seated at the table were three men, two wearing chain collars secured by small padlocks. One of them wore a rubber shirt and a pair of jeans and had closely shaved hair. The other wore a leather vest over a white t-shirt and a pair of jeans and had spiked hair dyed red at the points as well as several facial piercings. The third man was the most attractive man that Bob had ever seen. Lounging lazily in his chair, this was a man who was practically dripping with authority. Looking at him evoked images of a king on his throne, flanked by his two personal guards. This `king' however, wore a black waistcoat over a black t-shirt and black leather pants. Grey eyes regarded him intently beneath dark eyebrows and his lips quirked in a predatory half-smile. Realising that he was staring at the Master (which this man certainly must be), Bob quickly averted his eyes. He didn't need to see the Master's growing smile to know that he was blushing. "Um. your. ah. drinks Sir." Bob mumbled while hastily setting down the glasses. "Good boy, and so polite. Now how much is that?" The Master said in an amused tone as Bob's face grew redder and redder. "It's. uh. ten forty-five please." Despite avoiding eye contact, Bob could feel the Master's appraising stare as he paid Bob the money. The other two men, his boys, Bob realised, said nothing, but silently stole considering glances in Bob's direction. Leaving the table, Bob realised that he had been holding his breath. Shaking his head, he breathed a sigh of relief. The Master was definitely very, very good looking, but being around him was an unnerving experience for Bob. Still, he decided to keep an eye on him. Tonight had just gotten interesting. It was about forty-five minutes later when Bob received the Master's next order (which was much the same as the last one). Making haste to the table, Bob once again was unnerved by the Master's stare and this time the boys seemed to share their master's grin. This time, Bob resolved not to avert his gaze. He met their stares with a look of determination. When the master arched an eyebrow though, it was all he could do not to burst out laughing. He tried a tentative and polite smile, and set down the drinks carefully. "That's ten forty-five please." Bob managed to say, silently applauding himself on his composure. "Here boy, keep the change." The master replied, handing Bob fifteen. Taking the money from him, Bob was suddenly taken aback. The master was no longer grinning. His smile was now a warm and friendly smile. It was a puzzled Bob that made his way back to the bar. Had he passed some sort of test? Had he imagined it all? The masters smiling face filled his thoughts. Finally Bob's break came. He set the tray down and got himself a drink of orange juice and went into the back room behind the bar where the staff would take their breaks. With a sigh of satisfaction, Bob lowered himself down onto the couch and took a sip of his drink. Suddenly the door opened and the master swept into the room, closing it behind him quietly. "Relax boy, I'm a friend of the manager. My name is Sir Paul. I've heard a bit about you boy." "What are you doing back here? If James comes in here we could both get in trouble." Bob hissed. "Manners boy. Call me Sir, as is appropriate, and James already knows, in fact it was his idea." Sir Paul replied coolly. "But what are you doing back here. um. Sir?" Bob whispered. "Why looking for a new boy of course. And here you are boy. James told me about your last Master. I'm sorry to hear about it. Well I'll be precise. I saw you in the bar; I thought to myself `now there's a boy that would look good on my dungeon wall. now how do I get him there.' " Sir Paul paused to catch a breath, "Let's face it, I don't do this kind of thing so often that I'm a pro. Well anyway, I was just wondering, are you interested?" Bob had never seen a Master look perplexed or at a loss for words before, so he wasn't sure at first what that kind of facial expression looked like on a Master. now he knew. He just sat there; dumbfounded for a few moments, before realising that Sir Paul was waiting for a response. "Well, ah. you've said quite a mouthful Sir. I don't really know what to say. I mean I know absolutely nothing about you, yet you say you know a little about me? Have you been stalking me or something?" "Nothing like that boy. No. I was just talking to James last week and he mentioned you to me, and I was intrigued. From the sound of things you were a pretty loyal and devoted to your Master. I didn't hear why he let you go, but it's none of my business. If and when you start serving me, you get a clean slate boy. It's one of those few mercies I afford to boys who please me." If his smile earlier was predatory, the one he gave Bob now was positively chilling. After a few moments of silent contemplation Bob finally answered, "Well, I have to admit that I'm tempted Sir, and even flattered, the fact still remains. I know almost nothing about you." "Very well boy, I'll tell you a bit about myself and then leave you to make your decision." Sir Paul began, "I'm 35 years old, as you can see, and I have one boy and a dog already called Johnny and Spike. I've been a Master for almost 3 years now, so I have some experience, and I am a member of several BDSM groups. I'm out to my friends and I a very open and honest person. I like reading, television and gaming. I do some sports in my spare time and am an avid student of martial arts. I'm friendly, as you can tell," another flash of that predatory grin, "and sincere but if you disobey me, you will get punished. I don't like repeat offenders, so my punishments are usually strict, but I'm an understanding guy." Bob sat silent for a few moments thinking. Here was a Master who was intriguing, honest and brave. More than that, he was attractive. Looking at him made Bob's heart ache. Thoughts and considerations flew through his head. Finally he decided he needed more time. "I'll need to think about it in my own time and get back to you. I don't know when. Maybe tonight. Maybe tomorrow. I don't know exactly. Is there a number where I can reach you Sir?" "Better boy, here's my address. When you've made up your mind drop by any time after seven in the evening. And dress appropriately boy." With that, Sir Paul swept out of the room, leaving Bob alone with his thoughts. By the time his break was finished, Bob still hadn't decided, in spite of having lived out two fantasy romances with Sir Paul. The rest of the night passed quietly, and Sir Paul left early. Finally, James told Bob to clock out and head home. Bob tossed and turned all night. The next day passed agonisingly slowly as Bob deliberated over his choice. finally seven o'clock came around, and Bob found himself donning a pair of jeans and a white t- shirt. He hadn't decided yet, but there was no reason not to wear them. Then, after a frugal dinner he decided to go for a walk. It came as no surprise to him at all that he ended up standing outside Sir Paul's house, still wracked with indecision, and staring like some stray. A light was on in the hallway, and shivering in the cold, Bob thought about how much warmer it would be inside. Finally a gust of biting cold wind decided it for him. Bob took his first step into his new life.