Date: Sun, 27 Feb 2011 14:04:31 -0800 From: MACK Wayne Subject: A Slave's Induction Disclaimer: All rights reserved. No part of the story can be reproduced in any form without the permission of the author. A Slave's Induction Ch 1 - First Meeting Between their look, and the exchange they were having, one laughing, then the other, then both of them at once, they were mesmerizing to me. As I viewed them from across the bar, I believed myself to be unnoticed by either of them. The smaller one had captured my riveted attention earlier, as he passed by shirtless with 2 drinks in his hands. I made a point of following him with my eyes, to see where he was going, and who was lucky enough to be getting that other drink he was clutching. I moved myself to a vantage point, where I could see him as he stopped next to another premier specimen of a man, and handed him his drink. They clinked glasses, and each took a sip while settling back against the wall, scanning, and conversing, at the same time. They were obviously familiar with each other and comfortable together. And while it wasn't overt, there seemed to be the energy of commanding officer with enlisted man, or coach with player, or Dad with Son. Whatever it was, it added to my attract-ability quotient. Without wanting to be obvious, and obscuring myself somewhat behind a few other patrons gathered in conversation, I didn't take my eyes off of them. Together, they were definitely, the only ones I was interested in seeing, in a bar full of men, some pretty hot. The juxtaposition of their sizes, was an added factor to the equation of that stereotypical top/ bottom idea, with the smaller one about 5'6" or 7, and his partner, whatever his orientation, about 6'1" or 2. The large man looked about 10 years the other's senior, maybe forty something, to junior's late twenties, or thirty at most. Both were perfect specimens. Junior was powerfully built, a fireplug, with broad shoulders atop massive arms and a tiny waist. A happy trail ran up ripped abs and broadened out for a light smattering of chest hair. Years of training had turned his pecs into mounds of muscular achievement to compliment all the rest. Other than the light trail, and smattering of what was on his chest, I didn't see any other body hair as he had passed by. Ample trap muscles joined rounded shoulders to a thick neck, which held a perfectly shaped head. He looked like a "skin head," the way it had been shaved, with stubble about 48 hrs old. His clean-shaven face, one of the most beautiful I had ever seen, bore small features with dark full eyebrows, and ears that stuck out just a little. He looked like a combination of tough guy and puppy, mixed together. He had piercing light brown eyes. I couldn't stop seeing those eyes in my mind as he passed by with the drinks. He had looked into mine when he passed near me, as if peering into my soul. No raised eyebrow, or change in facial expression, and no recognition gestures of any kind, as I tried with my own to illicit one. There was just a momentary locking of his eyes with mine. I wondered if he could sense how much I wanted him. No doubt everyone in the bar felt the same way. Every so often senior would lean down towards junior's ear and say something and junior would look in my direction, it seemed like, at me. Maybe it was wishful thinking on my part. Just after receiving his drink from junior, Senior stripped his shirt off, exposing a hairy muscular torso. The muscle part had been evident, telegraphing through the tight T-shirt. He tucked it casually into his back jeans pocket, as the two kept up their conversation, without missing a beat. Even more muscular than junior, I would put him at about 240. They were perfect compliments each to the other, and now my scenic quotient had been doubled. Senior was as hairy as junior was hairless. It was lighter on his sides and shoulders and almost none on his biceps, but the rest was covered. I was sure his back would be the same. When he excused himself to go to the bathroom, he turned around and confirmed my suspicion, as hairy as the front. He was perfect. On his stern looking, but beautiful face, he wore a thick Vandyke beard. It, and his close-cropped hair, were the same salt and pepper that is the evidence of a man maturing. His ears were tight to his head. The eyebrows were darker and his deep set eyes, though I couldn't be sure, looked to be lighter rather than dark. And sensuously protruding out through all the peck hair, his nipples were much larger than usual. As I watched him, I tried to imagine what he did. Was he a dockworker or a lawyer? He could have been either, or anything in-between. Did he have money? He looked like it. I don't know if I could identify specifically what that "look," is, it just seemed to me he was more than comfortable. His facial expressions were quite animated, and fit his handsome masculine countenance. The two men were not exchanging with anyone else, other than casual greetings, and were happy surveying the room, but being essentially self-contained. Those looks on occasion from each of them, I couldn't be sure about. "Were they looking at me, or just in my direction?" Then there was a point at which I realized, at least this time, it was at me. Senior fixed on me and didn't break his gaze while leaning down to junior's ear to say something. When he was through, there was a brief discussion and junior broke away and headed in my direction. He walked right up to me and stuck out his hand. "Name's Nick," he said. "Tom," I replied. "The boss would like you to join us for a drink," he said. "He likes how when ever he looks over here, you're focused on him." "Ah," I thought to myself, "that's what I was sensing. It's a boss and employee relationship." "Focused on u both," I said out loud, "Its hard to decide which of you to look at. You're both so incredibly beautiful." "Tell him that when u meet him. He'll enjoy hearing that from you." He took me by the arm and as I broke out in a sweat from the contact, he pulled lightly on it as he spoke. "Come on over. He's even more incredible up close." Once I was in motion, he dropped his hold on me and led the way over. I almost couldn't believe it was happening. The whole thing was kind of surreal. I was characteristically not easily impressed, and had never focused so unwaveringly on anyone, the way I'd been drawn to do with these two. They were like two gods standing there, and now, I was joining them by invitation. Walking up to the "other god," he spoke right away, as I extended my hand to greet him. "You've been so fixed on us over there, I was sure you were going to stroll on over here and offer us drinks. We've been waiting," he said to my empty out held hand. He wasn't taking it, so I dropped it down with red-faced embarrassment, and to his exhortation, "Put it back up there. I'll get to it." As my hand returned outstretched, he reached out and shook it firmly. With his left hand, he actually tousled my hair, like you would a little boys, and said light heartedly, "I'm just givin' you a hard time handsome." He was playful, while at the same time, establishing an order about things. "Was that `handsome' I heard him call me?" I thought. He had spoken. His voice like the rest of him was a perfect compliment to the rest of the incredible package. And now it was my turn and I was as nervous as if meeting royalty or a foreign dignitary, and I was sure I wasn't doing a good job of hiding it. "I'm really sorry," I said, "for starring like I've been. I wasn't sure if you could tell." "Oh I could tell alright. I like your apology, but I've been enjoying your focus." I was listening to him, and looking into his steel grey eyes, mesmerized, and speechless. He laughed and nudged Nick as he continued, "You're nervous," he said, "I like nervous. Just roll with it." As he had begun to speak, he'd put his elbow up and used Nick's shoulder as an armrest. It was just the right height, and it was obvious this wasn't the first time Nick's shoulder had known such a purpose. Immediately the area filled with what had been already lightly detectable. The aroma coming from his armpit was intoxicating. I closed my eyes, inhaled deeply, and just said the first thing that came to mind, "Holy shit." "So. You like how I smell too, huh?" "I love the way you smell." "I like the way you closed your eyes to inhale just now. Yeah, like that," he said, as I closed them again. "Now focus." He said it so quietly, but my focus was so strong, the noise in the bar seemed to melt away. His scent was eclipsing all else. And my only visual - the one burned into my consciousness of Bill, standing here comfortably, resting his big arm on Nick's broad shoulder, offering to anyone close enough to pick it up, his astounding scent. I stood there in a mental zone, where nothing existed but these two men and Bill's voice and his aroma. "If you're lucky, maybe you can get up close to that later." He paused, just long enough to let images, of the possibilities of "later," flash through my mind, "Are you feeling lucky tonight, Tom?" "I sure am man, just getting to meet and talk with you guys makes me feel lucky." "Well, maybe your luck will continue. Would you like that?" "Absolutely, I would!" I said with exuberance. "Why don't you go and get us something to drink..." he reached into his pocket and continued without pulling anything out, "You ok for money?" "Sure. I insist. What can I get you guys?" Not surprisingly, Bill spoke for all of us, "I'll have a scotch and water. Get yourself a double of what ever you're drinking..." I looked at Nick for his request, but Bill spoke for him. "Get Nick a bottled water. He's had his one beer. He's driving." With that he took his arm from resting on Nicks shoulder and wrapped it around his neck and pulled him to himself. "Right my boy?" "Yes Sir Boss," was the immediate, polite seeming response. It was interesting to see the big man manipulating the powerfully built smaller bull, and presuming to answer for him. It was unexpected from what I'd imagined from across the room, and yet it seemed so right. I excused myself and turned to walk away. As I took my first step, I was pulled to a halt by the center belt loop on the back of my jeans. "Why don't you take off your shirt before u go." My response to his suggestion, could have been nothing but accommodating for this man to be making it, "Sure man," I said turning around and facing him again, "Anything for you!" "I like the sound of that very much," he said, as he winked and almost melted me into a puddle right there in front of him. I pulled my shirt off to find his outstretched hand and a look in his eye. No words were necessary. I handed it to him, and he hung it in his back pocket like his own on the other side. My shirt was hanging opposite his, in the pocket on his beautiful bubble ass cheek. I watched trans fixed at what he was doing, so much so, he had to reengage me. "Go. Go Tom. You were headed for drinks weren't you?" "Oh!" I said, snapping back to reality and responding sheepishly, "Yeah. Yes, I was." And then in a low tone almost saying it to myself, "I can't believe my shirt is in your back pocket." He grinned at me, and pushed me away with a hand on the side of my head. His touch sent an electrical charge through my whole body. As I turned and walked away, I relived being stopped in my tracks by his finger in my belt loop, wanting to feel it again. I walked to the far end of the bar to the service station and waited my turn to order. All the while, I mulled over what was happening and how lucky I felt to be exchanging with these two hot men. I thought about how different things seemed from across the room. From a distance, the men were two brick shithouse friends, maybe work out partners, out to have a drink and shoot the shit, each one taking turns at making the other laugh. They were comfortable with each other and on an equal footing. Being in their combined presence, however, revealed an obvious hierarchy of Bill over Nick, with Nick being entirely comfortable deferring to Bill's lead. He'd been a quiet observer during the time Bill had just shared with me. And just now, Bill had spoken for him, regarding his drink. The energy was provocative, but more than that, it was compelling. I wanted to spend more time in their presence, so I was glad to be getting us all drinks. I was beyond my usual alcohol limit, but I was not going to miss this opportunity. At the least, I would be another drink longer with them before loosing them. I ordered the drinks and bantered, as was normal for me, with the bar tender. He was a stunner with a smile that must have doubled his tips. It for sure doubled, what I would normally have left behind. I collected my drinks, returned the approval wink given me by the sexy man behind the bar looking me up and down. My walk back toward my new friends, produced lots of affirmative looks and comments along the way, about my "shirt-off," noticeable attributes. Not as big, or hairy, as Bill, but at 6'1," and a muscled #240 myself, I had the kind of presence too, that always commanded notice and focus from a lot of the boys, wherever I went. But here and now, they didn't matter. I was single minded, about the men I was returning to, and the privilege I was feeling, about spending time with them. Just walking up to them again, gave me a rock hard-on. "Wasn't sure if you were coming back," Bill said, with a questioning tone as he reached for his drink. There wouldn't be a "thank you." "Sorry about that," came out rather instinctively, with the feeling I should explain. "There was quite a line at the bar." He nodded as if to say, "Oh, I see." It was an odd exchange for having gone and gotten drinks for us all. But somehow, from this man, it felt more expected than out of place. Bill held his glass out for Nick and I to clink against. "Make a toast Tom." I was taken a bit by surprise, but came up quickly with, "To you Bill and Nick, and to new friendships, and feeling lucky." "Good," was Bill's, one-word response. We talked and joked and Nick entered in with the kind of ease I'd seen from across the room. Even the subject of ball torture came up, which for me had started as fantasy that led to a kind of proclivity. At one point Bill asked me what I thought about castration. I had to admit to him, I'd given it some serious thought time, and that it was a major fantasy. "I like that," Bill said, "You go to the head of the class, my boy." I wasn't sure what that meant, but, I was liking the approval rating from him for sure. Bill excused himself, leaving Nick and I alone to get acquainted. I found out that Nick, to no surprise, was a kick boxer, had a Black Belt in Karate, and was a champion mixed martial arts fighter. We spent most of our time together, him talking about his challenges and victories. He showed me scars from this fight and that one and said the reason for his crooked nose was from it being broken in one fight. Bill came up from behind me, and held out a drink for me. He had one for himself, and another water for Nick. I said I really shouldn't have any more, that, I too was driving, and already was a bit over indulged. I thanked him, and put the drink down. "No, no," he said, and picked it up, and held it out to me. "I took your drink, now you have to take mine." I started to resist as he continued, "Besides," he said "you can stay the night at my place, if you're too loaded to drive." I reluctantly reached out to the drink being held by the powerful hand in front of me, and took it as he held up his glass again for a toast. This time he made it, while looking at me. "To new associations. I have a feeling we might have something beneficial in the making." To the toast I was honored by, but didn't quite understand, I drank, and got mostly Vodka, with a small amount of mixer. My first reaction was to say it was too strong, and not drink it. But after his insistence, and the inference he would be insulted, that didn't seem a viable option. So I held it, and sipped on it, realizing more and more, I was going to be needing to take advantage of that offer for an overnighter. Maybe that was his plan, so I could be in on something really hot with them. Us having sex hadn't been talked about, but the energy and testosterone were certainly in the air. And I was ready for anything with these two. We talked for about an hour, with emphasis on the subject of castration. Bill wanted to hear about the fiction I had written on the topic, and said he had actual video of some procedures. I imagined medical "how to" tapes, and when Bill asked, I said I'd love to see something like that. Bill excused himself for a bathroom run, and I watched his massive, dimpled, hairy back as he walked away - my eyes following him till he was out of site. When I realized I had zoned out on Nick, I apologized. "Hey, no problem man. I understand. He has the same effect on me." "You both are almost too much for the senses," I said. Nick did a raised arm back stretch, that looked almost like a double biceps pose as he spoke. "Yeah. I can tell, you are really liking what you see. Bill knows the effect he's having on you and he's enjoying your focus." Anything Bill liked about me would be good news, but then he surprised me by what he said next. "Bill likes you very much. He doesn't take time like this with guys usually. Nor does he invite them to spend the night at home." Nick said I was very lucky. Someone else saying this, I would have considered presumptuous. With it being Nick, and about Bill, I concurred and assured him that's exactly how I was feeling. In no time, Bill was back. He placed one arm around Nick's shirtless shoulders and the other around mine and as he directed us to move by his touch he spoke, "Ok boys. Lets go. Tom you're coming with us. You obviously need to sober up for the night." Then he patted my shoulder and continued, "Besides it will give us time to talk. There's something I'd like to ask you to do for me. With your proclivities, you'd be perfect for this project. You interested?" I was both interested and honored, and assured him so. That he would be asking me to do something for him, made my already intoxicated "enthralled-to-be-with-this-man" condition, feel even more so. That, "you are lucky," feeling induced by Nick earlier, was peaking. I was on cloud nine walking out with this man's arm around my shoulders, headed for his house with he and Nick, and now being told he, "has me in mind for a project of his." I was thinking how far things had come from my spying on these two incredible creatures from across the bar, just a couple of hours earlier, to now - with this beautiful man's arm on me, and the wonderful smell of his sweaty pit filling my nostrils. I caught myself smiling from ear to ear as he told Nick to go for the car, and meet us around the corner. I mentioned my truck in the parking garage, and he said it would be ok to leave it there over night, and that he'd see to anything I needed in the morning. That statement was more prophetic than I could have imagined. We walked up a block leaving the noise of men congregating outside the bar in the distance, and when we turned the corner it disappeared altogether. We reached the end of the block and he stopped. He said Nick should be along in a minute. As we stood and talked, I asked Bill for my T-shirt from his back pocket. He had put his on as we were walking, and not offered mine to me. I thought he might have forgotten it was there. As the big black Hummer just then pulled up close to the curb and rocked to a stop, He said, "You don't need it now," and left it in his pocket. Somehow this vehicle wasn't a surprise. It was a fitting compliment to Bill's super masculinity. It was blacked out all around behind the front windows, so it was dark inside, but I could make out the handsome Nick, now also "shirted," in the drivers seat. Bill motioned to the back door for me as he reached for the handle of the front passengers door and climbed in. I did the same and pulled the door shut behind me. I felt a little awkward shirtless, with my two idols/ hosts, fully dressed in front of me. I was about to feel even more so. Bill turned around, "I have a question for you," he said. "Sure what?" "If there was something really simple you could do for me that would really please me, would you do it?" "Of course I would!" "I'd like you to strip for me, Tom." There was something counterintuitive about taking my clothes off as we drove through the city streets, but the most beautiful man in the world, was asking me to please him by doing so, and it was late, and the car was blacked out, so, "what the fuck," I thought to myself, as my answer came out, "Yeah sure. I guess so." I hesitated awkwardly for a moment and then asked a bumbling question, "Now?" With a bit of sarcastic impatience in his voice, he indicated emphatically that he meant "yes Ð now Ð here - in the car - as we were driving - stripped naked - everything off." I apologized for asking a stupid question, to quell his irritation. After all, I was doing this for the purpose of his pleasure, and I wanted him pleased, not irritated with me. So I took off my boots and socks, wiggled quickly out of my jeans and stripped off my briefs to complete my exposure and vulnerability. I'd never been this way riding in a car before, but it was strangely erotic and my cock began to show evidence of that fact. I sat naked listening to Bill and Nick's conversation, and Bill telling Nick he wanted to "stop at so-and-so's house on the way." The name meant nothing to me, but the stop would. They both ignored me as they talked, and soon we pulled into the narrow driveway of the small house of, "so-and-so," in what seemed a seedy part of town. Bill turned to me and as he looked me over said, "Ah much better. Now that pleases me," and he asked me what I thought about that fact. I said, I was glad to be able to do something to that end. "Hand me your pants," he said. He took them from me and reached in the pockets looking for and finding my car keys. "If you don't mind Tom, I have an associate that can pay for and bring your car to my place tomorrow. That way I don't have to bring you back or have Nick do so." Without waiting for an answer or missing a beat, he got on his cell phone and made a call. "We're outside," was all he said, and hung up. In what seemed like a nanosecond, a scrappy middle-aged man, dressed in dirty clothes, came to the window on Bill's side of the car. "Sorry Boss, I just got home from work," he said apologetically about his appearance. Bill told him it was no problem, and then handed my keys and some money out to him, "Tom here's too drunk to drive, and is staying with me tonight. Pick up his car tomorrow. Here's the money to pay for the parking and some extra for you," then he vocalized to me without turning around while the man holding my keys looked in at me naked and covering my now softening cock with my hands. "Tom, what's your car look like, and where are you parked?" It didn't feel right, but not completely wrong either. I chalked it up to Bill being the kind of man that just jumped in and got things done, and wasn't used to having to check with someone on what he was doing. Still, I thought I should try to thwart what felt rather like a presumptive offer. So from my vulnerable exposed place in the back seat, I tried to do so. "Bill, I can get a cab in the morning back to my car and not have to put any one out, man." "Don't you worry about that," He said. "It's no big deal at all. Ronnie here does odd jobs like this all the time for me. Right Ronnie?" And Ronnie's response, "Yeah Boss, no problem. In fact I could use the extra cash right now. I'm a little short what with the kid being sick and all." "Ok," I thought to myself, "now if I insist on taking care of this myself, I'll be taking money already in this man's hands, away from what he needs for his sick child." Again without turning around Bill addressed me, "Tom, tell Ronnie what he needs to know." I saw no alternative, as I told the dirty man where he could find my truck and described it. He thanked me for letting him do this to earn a few bucks, and said he would take care of my vehicle as if it were his own. The way he looked, and the neighborhood we were in, I almost told him not to do that, but held my tongue, and instead issued a resigned, "ok," to him. He held the keys up to me almost in a salute and smiled and backed away from the window as Nick put the big SUV in reverse. Bill finished with, "Ok Ronnie, we'll talk tomorrow," and we were off, me feeling a bit strange, maybe a little more than "a bit." No one had ever held the keys to my truck before. Bill put me at ease somewhat. "Don't worry Tom. Ronnie's a good loyal man, and always does a good job for me, no matter what I ask. Everything will be fine. Remember," he said, "you're the one who's too drunk to drive." I thought about how Bill really had contributed toward encouraging my drunken state, but rather than risking insulting this god, I reminded myself of my own volition in the matter. After all, I did what I did, on my own. I could, after all, have "just said no," as the trite campaign slogan says. I settled in, and returned to looking at the back of the heads and shoulders of the two magnificent men before me, and played with myself to help me relax. It wasn't long before I was thinking about them, and not someone being asked to pick up my truck, which was feeling more like what Bill had called it, "no big deal." I heard their conversation but couldn't make out most of it. Their volume was not intended for my inclusion. It didn't seem to matter. I was inebriated, and in the environment where these men were comfortable, and I was feeling very lucky to be here. I was so relaxed, I actually dozed off a couple of times, I don't think for very long, and I didn't think it had been noticed. _____________________ Comments? mackxwayne@hotmail.com