Date: Mon, 6 Sep 2010 04:24:02 -0400
From: Matt W <matt10019@gmail.com>
Subject: Bred Slave - Part 12

The following is a work of fiction.  All characters are over 18 years of
age.  There are depictions of sexual acts and homoerotic themes.  Please do
not read any further if you are not legally eligible or would be offended by
the material.

CHAPTER 14 - BETWEEN FRIENDS

"Dude, what the fuck?!" Brent exclaimed, turning around in the dim light of
the front step of the guest house to face Ryan and I as we stopped like deer
in headlights on our short walk from the main house.

"Uhhh," or something barely audible escaped Ryan's lips as he took a side
step in front of me.  "What?" he attempted, his voice noticeably caught in
the back of his throat.  He coughed quickly and spoke again.  "What are you
doing here?"

Brent held up a cell phone in the porch light.  "You left this at the
house.  Thought you might want it, but...I mean,seriously, what the fuck is
going on here?"  He repeated, his voice going up an octave as he strained
his neck to get a better look at both of us.  "Drew?

He took a step forward, and Ryan took another step to keep his body squarely
between me and Brent.  It was dim on the walkway between the two houses, but
not dark enough to shroud the obvious.  Not only was I stark naked in the
middle of a chilly winter night, but there was a sturdy collar locked around
my neck, and my junk was encapsulated in a chastity device, hanging freely
between my shivering legs.

The mention of my name sent me into panic mode, and I instantly lost
form, twisting to the side behind Ryan, my hands cupping my genitals, as if
hoping to make myself disappear.

"What the fuck are you guys doing out here?  Why is Drew..." Brent
continued, craning his neck again to look beyond Ryan's form.  "Naked?!"

"Fucking hell," Ryan suddenly exclaimed, squaring his shoulders a bit as if
to take back control of the situation.  He grabbed Brent's upper arm and
guided him with a light shove towards the front door of the guest house.
"Inside. Now."

Brent was visibly not pleased at the direction, but stepped aside to let
Ryan fumble with the door handle, and the two of them pushed into the
house.  I remained frozen a few paces away, no longer noticing the cold as
my adrenaline flushed through my system.

"Don't just stand there," Ryan glanced over his shoulder from the doorway,
his eyes widening slightly as he saw me cowering, nearly doubled over in
fear.  "Get your ass inside, pledge."  He added firmly, ensuring the his
voice was well audible."

I hesitated with uncertainty at the command, my heart still skipping beats
as the situation continued to unfold, almost in slow motion.  Slowly, I
stepped lightly the remaining few paces through the doorway and into the
entry foyer, still cupping my balls with my head bowed.  At the moment, it
was bowed much more out of shame than respect.  I glanced up only briefly.

"Pledge?" Brent asked, skeptically.  He crossed his arms over the fraternity
letters that were emblazoned across the chest of his navy blue hooded
sweatshirt.  His light brown eyes raked over me from under the brim of his
well-worn baseball cap, tufts of his sandy brown hair were peaking out
underneath, swept across his forehead.

"Yeah, dude," Ryan shrugged, stepping past me to lock the front door as if
nothing was unusual.  "Drew wants to be a brother."

"Yeah...  Okay," Brent acknowledged, raising an eyebrow.  "Except, we
haven't even started recruiting for the spring."

"You haven't started recruiting for the spring," Ryan interjected.  "I, on
the other hand, didn't feel like sitting on my ass waiting for the fall
rejects to come slithering by, or losing out on all the prime freshmen to
those fucking Kappas."

"Neither do I, but..."

"And, besides, you know I'm gunning for Pledge Educator next fall," Ryan
continued, cutting him off.  "Trying to get a jump on things.  Working on
some ideas to run by Stevens and the others."  He slapped me lightly on the
back.  "Speaking of which," he said, turning to me.  "Pledge, there are
Brothers in this room that need cold beers in their hands.  How 'bout you do
something about that?"

I looked at him with a mix of confusion and gratitude.  Somehow, he was
actually managing to make the most implausible situation plausible, or at
least I hoped Brent was buying it all.

"Uhh, yes, Sir," I said quietly, nearly choking on the word 'Sir' as it
slipped out of my mouth so easily.  Was that even what fraternity pledges
were supposed to say?  I glanced over at Brent, who was still carefully
eyeing the situation.

"C'mon dude, have a seat.  Relax," Ryan coaxed Brent towards the living
room.  "You really didn't have to come all this way for the stupid phone,
but that was really cool of you."

I scurried over to the fridge and pulled out two of Ryan's favorite beer
bottles.  Popping off the caps, I carried them over cautiously to the living
room where Ryan was sprawled casually on the couch beside a still
tense-looking Brent.  I stepped carefully around the coffee table towards
the couch, doing my best to still my quivering, the beers rattling in my
hands as I held them out to each of them.

Ryan looked up at me with a slight smirk.  "Okay, pledge.  Don't miss out on
the chance to impress another Active.  Down on your knees and present them
to us," he commanded.

I swallowed hard, and sank to my knees.  That was something I was used
to.  Kneeling naked before Brent, was not.  I held my arms out straight so
that each bottle was within easy reach.

Brent cautiously took his from my hand, still giving me a crooked eye.
"Thanks, uh, pledge."  He immediately put the opening of the bottle to his
lips, and began to chug several large gulps.

I glanced over to Ryan as I continued to hold his beer out for him.  Instead
of taking it, he crossed his arms and ignored me, turning back to his
conversation with Brent.  "See, bro?  He's a fast learner."

"Yeah," Brent agreed, unconvincingly, taking another swig of his beer.  "So,
remind me again where this whole collar thing comes into the pledging
process, not to mention whatever the fuck that is on his junk?"

"Props." Ryan shrugged.

"Expensive props..."

"Yeah?  Well thankfully some of us are willing to put out a little more than
the bare minimum dues to better the frat," Ryan argued.

"And, I don't pull my weight?" Brent exclaimed.

"Not saying you don't..."  Ryan looked over to me sharply, and I couldn't
help but glance up at him in alarm.  My arm was already starting to shake
from holding the beer outstretched.  He snatched it from my hand.  "On your
fucking head, pledge!"

I jumped at the sudden change in Ryan's tone.  He was losing control over
the situation, and I knew that his first instinct was to keep exercising his
control over me.  Getting on my head was something he had taught me in
training.  It wasn't something he had me do very often, but I knew that it
was a popular technique in fraternity hazing.  I shuffled back a few paces
on my knees, bent all the way forward until the top of my forehead and head
were planted squarely on the ground, and then cautiously lifted my hands
behind my back, careful to balance my forward weight on my head.  It was
both painful and helpless, yet I was almost relieved to be staring at the
dark space between the floor and my body rather than making eye contact with
Brent.

"Jesus, dude!"  Brent exclaimed.  I could hear him stand up.  "I get it.
He's a pledge.  Is this really necessary?  And again, why the fuck is he
doing all this shit for you now when we're weeks away from even selecting a
pledge class?"

"I told you," Ryan growled in frustration.  "He wants to be one of us, and I
offered to help him out.  But, there's a price for that.  If he proves
himself to me now, that he can put in the time and effort, show the respect
that he needs to earn his place, then I'll sponsor his bid, no questions
asked."

"Yeah?  And what if I sponsor his bid?"  Brent challenged.  "No questions
asked."

I heard the leather couch squeak as Ryan shifted in his seat.  Then he
chuckled slightly.  "You'd really put your ass on the line like that?  Your
rep?  I mean, let's be serious here.  He might look like he could be one of
us, but that's about as much as he has going for him.  Definitely not going
to bring any outside connections, money or any other sort of hookups to the
table."

"And here I thought it was supposed to be all about brotherhood?" Brent
countered, wryly.

"Don't give me that shit," Ryan retorted.  "We're the number one frat on
campus for a reason, and that reason is because we keep the fucking riff
raff out."

"And, Drew is riff raff?  Isn't he practically your brother already?"

"He's not my brother," Ryan stated coldly.

My face had been burning in shame from the way Ryan explained to Brent that
I was practically worthless, but his sincere declaration sent an unexpected
chill down my spine.  He was right, I wasn't his brother.  I was his slave.

"Whatever, bro," Brent sighed.  "This just seems a little...intense for a
practice run.  Don't you think?"

"Not really," Ryan disagreed.  "But, I guess hell week should be a piece of
cake for him then."

I had no idea what sort of hazing rituals Ryan's frat employed during hell
week, but I was certain that my life as a slave was much more hellish than
anything they'd experienced.

"Hey, Drew, get up real quick," Brent suddenly called over to me.

"What the fuck, dude?"  Ryan interrupted, his voice rising slightly.  "He's
my pledge."

I stayed down where I was, uncertain of whether I should listen to Brent, or
keep the position Ryan had ordered me into.

"Your pledge?  I thought he was our pledge?  I'm still an Active, last time
I checked," Brent stated.  "C'mon Drew, take a break."

Ryan sighed, "You heard him, pledge.  On your feet."

Almost reluctantly, I pushed myself up to my knees, and then up to my feet,
standing awkwardly before them.  I glanced to Brent who was still standing,
and gave me another once over.

"You okay?" Brent asked, his concern seemed genuine.

I glanced to Ryan who was staring me down hard, but gave a slight nod of his
head, and then looked back to Brent.  "I'm fine."  I shrugged.

"And you do realize that you don't have to be doing this shit.  Here, now,
for him, right?"

"I...I made a deal and I don't want to go back on my word," I managed,
looking down nervously at my feet.

"See?  All good," Ryan declared, standing up to give me a firm pat on the
back.  "Besides, it's not like it's like this all the time.  I told you I'm
just experimenting around and Drew here gets to be my guinea pig.  You, my
friend, just showed up with some really bad timing. I totally get how
this would all seem a little fucked up without any explanation, but are we
cool now?"

"Yeah...I guess," Brent glanced over to me again, and I managed a half smile
to indicate that I was okay.  "Yeah.  Yeah, bro, we're cool."

He exchanged an elaborate handshake with Ryan, as I exhaled a silent breath
of relief.

"Another beer?" Ryan asked, sitting back down on the couch while Brent
remained standing.

"Nah, I got a paper to write before tomorrow," he declined, taking a step
towards the door.  "So, I guess I'll see you at the house or something after
class?"

Ryan stood up again to see Brent out.  "Yeah, sure.  See ya then."

"Later, Drew," Brent nodded over his shoulder.  "Good luck with this one.
Don't take too much shit.  You'll have plenty to deal with once pledging
really starts."

I nodded distantly, and remained where I was while Brent slipped through the
front door, closing it behind him.

Ryan turned and walked back over to where I was standing. I glanced up at
him nervously as we locked eyes for a tense moment.

SLAP!

Suddenly, the back of his right hand connected with my cheek.

"Don't give me that look, you fucking cunt!"  He snapped.

I wasn't sure what look I had given him exactly, other than pure fear and
confusion over the situation that had just transpired.  "Yes, Sir," I
whimpered, keeping my head to the side, and my eyes cast back down towards
the couch as I stood fearfully in front of him, bracing for another slap.

Instead, he grabbed my hair, and shoved me down hard to my knees.  "Just
fucking stay there!"  He shouted, as he began to pace around the living
room.  He ran both of his hands through his hair in frustration, as he
processed what had just happened.  "Holy fuck.  That was fucking close," he
murmured between additional swears as he continued to pace.

I just knelt there, the shock and adrenaline still pulsing inside of me.  In
truth, Ryan had done an exceptional job bullshitting his way through an
explanation.  Still, he was rattled, and I knew it.

He walked back to towards me and picked up his beer from the coffee table,
taking a long swig.  "What do you think?  Did he buy it?"

"Uhh," I opened my mouth slightly, thrown by the question.  It had been a
long time since Ryan had asked me for any sort of opinion on anything.
"I...I don't know, Sir.  I think so."

He leaned over me and spat a stream of warm beer mixed with saliva onto my
face that ran down my cheek and dripped over my lips and chin.  "What was
that, slave?"  Ryan barked.  "It's yes, or no.  You know better."

I winced slightly.  "Yes, Sir!  He bought it, Sir."

"Almost."

Ryan and I turned sharply towards the front door.  Brent was standing there
by the open door holding up Ryan's cell phone.

"Forgot to give this to you in all of the...commotion," Brent explained, his
voice oddly calm.

"Oh, fuck.  Thanks," Ryan reacted quickly, rushing towards him to snatch the
phone, trying to sound normal.  "Wanna knock, next time?"

"Sure, thing," Brent shrugged with a slight smirk on his lips.  "I'll just
get outta here and let you get back to whipping your slaveboy or whatever it
is that you fags do."

Another wave of panic washed over me.  I felt liked I'd been punched in the
gut, like I could vomit at any second.

Ryan's reaction, however, shocked me.  He froze for a moment, locking eyes
with Brent, and then lunged forward grabbing him by the collar of his
sweatshirt and pulling him inside.  "You have no fucking idea what you're
talking about!" Ryan shouted angrily, shoving Brent inside towards the
living room, and then released his grasp.  He slammed the door behind him
and locked it.

"Yeah?  I think I know exactly what's going on here," Brent countered, his
voice rising.  "I know you're a lot of things.  Just had no idea you were
such a homo."

Ryan rushed over to me, and pulled me up to my feet by one arm, and then
shoved me stumbling towards the stairs.  "Get your ass upstairs.  Face down
on your bed, and don't move until I come get you."

I was so scared, I didn't even acknowledge the order as I shamefully
scampered up the stairs out of sight.

"Now, sit the fuck down and let me explain!" Ryan demanded in Brent's
direction.

It was the last I would hear clearly of their conversation as I burst into
my cell of a room and sprawled face down on the mattress that had become my
bed.  At first I began to shake uncontrollably as my nerves exploded, but a
few deep breaths and the dark quiet of the room eventually began to calm my
nerves.

It was pure torture as I strained to hear any bit of the conversation
happening a floor below me, but it was useless.  A few inaudible shouts had
eventually quieted to a dull conversational level, and I could hear
nothing.  I had no doubt that Ryan would handle the situation and spin it
somehow to his advantage.  However, I couldn't shake the nagging notion that
no matter the outcome, Brent would now know the truth, and I had no possible
idea what effect that knowledge would have on me.

Minutes passed, and then what felt like an hour.  It was hard to know with
no way to tell time. The emotional ordeal had taken its toll on me, and
eventually I felt my eye lids grow heavy and drifted off into some sort of
sleep.

Suddenly, light from the bare bulb overheard flooded my room and penetrated
my eyelids.  I jerked awake with a slight gasp.

"So, this is it," Ryan explained, stepping into the room.  There were two
sets of footsteps, and I couldn't help but look over my shoulder.
Apparently, Ryan was now giving Brent some sort of grand tour.

CRACK!

I yelped, as a small leather flogger cracked across my lower back.  Ryan had
brought a toy with him.

"Face down, slave," Ryan scolded.  "I didn't tell you to move.  Hands behind
your head."

"Yes, Sir."  I swallowed quietly, and turned my face back into the mattress,
clasping my hands behind my head.

"Damn," Brent exclaimed in bewilderment.  "This is un-fucking-believable."

"Believe it, dude," Ryan assured him, tapping my ass lightly with his
flogger.  "He's my slave, 100%.  Well, technically he belongs to my father,
like I said, but it's just a technicality until I graduate."

I shifted nervously, feeling the flogger teasing the sensitive skin on my
ass, bracing for another crack at any moment.  This was news to me, and I
tried to focus on what Ryan was saying.

"What happens then?" Brent asked.

"My dad will sell him to me if I want."

"And, if you don't want...?" Brent pressed, curiously.

"Then I guess he might keep him, might sell him to someone else.  Who
knows?  I guess we'll see in a few years," Ryan stated, casually.

The alarms were going off in my head.  It had never occurred to me that I
would, or even could possibly, be sold.  I took a few deep breaths into the
mattress, trying to remain calm.

"It's just..." Brent struggled to find the words.  I could feel him pacing
around the bed.  "You hear about this kind of shit on the internet, S&M or
whatever, but this is just so much more, I dunno, what?"

"Real?"  Ryan offered, giving my ass another tap with the flogger.
"Look, bro, I totally get that you're overwhelmed by all of this shit,
and it's a lot to take in.  Believe me, when my father filled me in on
Drew's parents after all these years of growing up together, I was
completely blown away.  But, like I was saying downstairs, there are just
certain people that are born to be Masters and certain people that are born
to be slaves...like Drew here."

"And, you swear to God this is," Brent paused, "completely voluntary?"

"I swear.  Here," Ryan continued, jabbing my ribs lightly with the flogger.
"Let's ask him.  On the floor, boy.  Kneel."

I felt myself flush again as the inevitable began to materialize.  He wasn't
going to let me hide my face in shame for much longer, and I reluctantly
rolled off of the bed to my feet, and then blinking into the light as my
vision came into focus, I followed a pointing finger from Ryan to a space on
the floor before both of them and sank to my knees in a proper kneel,
quickly diverting my eyes.

"He's been in training since the start of winter break, so he's still kinda
rough around the edges, but he's getting there," Ryan explained, almost as
if I he was providing a disclaimer.  "It takes a while to really train a
proper slave."

I watched Brent's sneakers as they paced hesitantly on the floor in front of
me.  "Looks pretty well trained to me?"

"Well, he certainly knows better than to embarrass me in front of my
friends," Ryan agreed.  "Now, you wanted to ask him something?"

"I guess, I mean, yeah...God, this is really fucking weird, dude," Brent
declared, clamming up on his questions.

"I know.  It's a lot to understand, but that's why you need to hear this,"
Ryan urged.  "Ask him."

"Okay, so, seriously Drew.  This is for real?  You want to be this guy's,
what, slave?" Brent asked.  I could feel his eyes looking down on me.

I hesitated at the question.  'Want' wasn't exactly the right word.  "Uhh,
I, I mean..." I stammered to get the words out.

Ryan's fingers quickly laced themselves in the back of my hair, and he
yanked my head back roughly so that I was now looking up towards Brent.  "It
was a yes or no question, dumbass."

I winced, and nodded slightly.  "Yes...yes."

"Yes, what?" Ryan demanded, giving my hair a firm jerk.

"Yes, Sir!"

"Does this man in front of you look like another slave to you, boy?  Is he
wearing a collar or something I'm not seeing?" Ryan persisted.

"No, no, Sir."

"Then, as a real man and one of my best friends, don't you think you might
want to show him the same amount of respect?" he prompted, "We're not making
small talk on the quad here.  This is the real fucking deal."

"Yes, Sir," I agreed.

"Good."  Ryan released his grip on my hair.  "Any other questions?"

I glanced up at Brent, who still appeared a bit shell shocked.  He lifted
his hat off of his head by the brim, and ran his fingers through his hair
before replaced the hat.

"Okay, okay, so he wants it," Brent observed, still a bit skeptically.
"But, why?  I mean, I get what you get out of it.  Fuck.  Who wouldn't want
a slave to take care of all their shit, but what does he get out of it?
Drew, what do you get out of it?"

Ryan pressed the toe of his sneaker into my ass to prompt a response.
"Answer him."

I swallowed, and glanced up at Brent before quickly diverting my eyes.  "I,
uh, I'm taken care of, a place to live, my education..."

"Blah, blah, blah," Ryan interjected.  "The honest truth is, he was born for
this.  His cock is locked up right now because he is being punished, but if
it wasn't, chances are he would be rock hard and dripping.  They're not
going to teach us this in biology or psychology or whatever fucking bullshit
classes we take, but it's literally a part of human nature.  Some people are
born to be masters and others are born to be slaves, but thanks to the way
society operates, only a very small portion of the population born with
those instincts will get to fulfill them.  Drew and his parents, are just a
few of the lucky ones.  Am I right, Drew?  Answer honestly."

I glanced up at him.  Sometimes he was just such an asshole, and other times
he actually demonstrated that he was more intuitive than he liked to let
on.  "Yes, Sir," I agreed, wholeheartedly.  It was the only explanation that
really made sense when all was said and done.

"Okay, fine, whatever," Brent exclaimed, throwing up his hands in defeat.
"I don't know if it will ever make sense to me, but I guess it's not
supposed to.  But, so, now what?"

"What do you mean?" Ryan asked.

"I mean, now what?" Brent repeated.  "I'm just supposed to, like, keep this
a secret?  I'm guessing you're not exactly broadcasting this on the
university news or to the rest of the brothers."

"You bet your ass you keep your mouth shut," Ryan agreed in warning,
stepping forward and grabbing hold of Brent's sweatshirt to emphasize his
sincerity .  "No one finds out about this.  This isn't petty gossip shit,
this is serious, Brent.  We're talking about people's lives."

"Okay, okay," Brent exclaimed.  "I get it. No one finds out.  It's not like
they would believe me anyway."

"Fine. Good."  Ryan release his grip, and gave Brent a friendly pat on the
shoulder.

Brent adjusted his sweatshirt back into place.  "So, what do I do if I run
into you guys, or Drew really, on campus?  He's obviously not following you
around 24/7."

"Good question.  And to be honest since I'm just thinking off the top of my
head here, it's really up to you.  Obviously, things are different when
we're in the outside world.  Drew isn't going to be running around campus
looking like a slave, but it doesn't change the fact that he is one," Ryan
stated, and gave me a rough pat to the side of my head.

"So...what do you mean, up to me?"

"I mean exactly that.  Now that you know what he really is, you should
totally feel free to embrace the fact that you are a superior to him, and he
is just as subject to you as he is to me, or my father," Ryan explained.

I glanced sharply up at Brent and then back down, unprepared for the fact
that Ryan was now potentially adding a new Master to the already existing
lineup of Ryan, his father, and Kara.

"Yeah, I dunno about that, dude," Brent hesitated.

"Seriously," Ryan urged.  "You need help carrying something?  Last minute
study partner?  Someone to spot you in the gym?  Whatever you need, feel
free to ask me, or fuck, text him directly.  His only valid excuses to
refuse a direct order from you would be a class he's already in, or
something he's already doing for me.  Otherwise, he has no choice but to
come running," he explained happily, "And, I do mean running."  He
emphasized the word running with a light shove between my shoulder blades.

"Maybe..."

"And, of course, there's another thing a slave is good for," Ryan continued
darkly.

My stomach knotted as uncertainty settled over the room.

"Yeah, what's that?" Brent asked, innocently enough.

"Makes a fucking great cum dump."

Brent chortled at what he thought was a joke.  I felt my face burn, and Ryan
remained quiet.

"Wait, you're serious?" he asked.

"Serious as a heart attack, bro," Ryan confirmed. "When those bitches aren't
putting out, and you're sick of jerking off, just know you always have
another option.  My gift to you."

"Whoa, dude, I'm not in to any of this gay shit," Brent declared
defensively, taking a backwards step towards the door.

"It has nothing to do with being gay," Ryan countered, "Trust me.  It's not
having lovey-dovey sex with a guy.  It's emptying your fucking balls into a
warm mouth or a tight hole, no strings attached."

"Still sounds pretty gay to me," Brent responded, skeptically.

"You think it's fag shit, I get it, but there's really no greater display of
masculinity and dominance.  Don't you get it?  I literally own this fuck
face," Ryan exclaimed, grabbing me by the hair once again and giving me a
shake for emphasis. "Stand up, boy," he commanded.  "Display!"

I reluctantly rose to my feet, guided by Ryan's grasp.  Keeping my eyes down
as my cheeks continued to smolder red, I spread my legs a bit and
straightened my posture, moving my hands behind my neck in proper display.

"Does this boy look like some sissy fag to you?" Ryan pressed.

Brent shook his head, "No..."

"Exactly.  He's not.  He's the same straight, hot blooded, jock you've known
forever," Ryan demonstrated, patting my abs firmly with his left hand, "Only
difference is, now he's a slave.  Doesn't make him gay, doesn't make me gay,
just makes him a piece of property."

"Fuck, I get it already," Brent exclaimed in exasperation.  "You have to
forgive me for not knowing exactly what to make of all of this, let alone
how I'm supposed to suddenly treat Drew differently, like he's some kind of,
I dunno what?"

"Look, man, it's up to you.  Just want you to know that you, and you alone,
have the option of using him.  Wanna treat him like your best friend?
Fine, whatever.  Wanna treat him like you would a pledge or one of your
hos?  Even better," Ryan rattled on.  "Just remember, no matter how you
treat him, he's a slave at the end of the day."

"I got it," Brent repeated firmly.  "Look, I need some air.  Gonna get out
of here."

"Yeah, yeah, of course.  Sure you don't want another beer or something?"
Ryan asked as he stepped forward and put his arm around Brent ushering him
out of the doorway.  "Or maybe a blow job?" he teased.

"No, I'm good," Brent declared, flatly.

"Relax, man," Ryan glanced over his shoulder as he flipped the light
switch.  "Lights out, slave."

The door slammed shut behind them, and I was left in the sudden darkness to
fumble back over to my mattress.  To the say the least, my mind was spinning
over the events of the turbulent day.  I settled onto my stomach and winced
my eyes shut, unable to imagine what new twists of fate would await me
tomorrow.

***
To be continued. Comments and Feedback are encouraged: matt10019@gmail.com