Date: Mon, 26 Jun 2017 14:42:10 +0200 From: s Subject: Story : Even The First - PART FOURTEEN +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Even The First - PART FOURTEEN THE USUAL WARNINGS APPLY TO THIS TALE. CONTACT sharper@inorbit.com IF YOU LIKE. SEARCH NIFTY FOR sharper@inorbit.com or this link www.bit.ly/1VSsqpI TO READ OTHER TALES BY ME. REMEMBER TO MAKE YOUR DONATION TO WWW.NIFTY.ORG !! http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Even The First - PART FOURTEEN "You see ..." said Nigel, "... how old are you now? Your skin is still so young, tight, over your great gorgeous muscles. Truly beautiful. Tempting enough to eat." He smiled like he really could consume me in a meal. His clammy hand was still stroking me, squeezing and pinching me. He pulled on a fold to demonstrate how little subcutaneous fat separated the skin from the ripped protein below. I winced inwardly. I didn't want him to know he was hurting me. "Nice arms. Sculpted back. Lovely. Kind of a pity ..." he said, "kind of a pity to think of it all going to waste. That's why you got to be careful, you know, cs ... yeh cs Paul has this strict cut off, see." I froze, somehow instantly realising what he was talking about. "You didn't know that? Yeh. I've seen it before. And you're close. You're not there yet but you're that close and, carry on mate, see how it goes. Know what I mean? See that's what I mean about energy and enthusiasm, about showing that you're making that effort, going that extra mile, making it worth a Master's while to own you. "Think of the expense, the costs, for a man to own you and take on all the responsibility of keeping you. It's no small thing. Paul's on the verge. "Paul's that fed up with you and frankly he could get another slave easily. Look at it from that angle. I mean, I think he's just a bit bored with you. He's like that. Trust me. Seen it so many times before. He's like that. But I'm not. I could do with a good house slave. You've lasted this long cs you're good but I think I can see Paul's losing interest rapidly and he likes the challenge, every few years or so, a fresh face to break in and train up into the perfect sub. It's a challenge, see?" Nigel waited for me to respond. I didn't respond. "... I'm just saying he's looking for a project, and you're no longer a project: You're done. Training's fun for a dom; lots of punishment, lots of tears and forgiveness, praise and stuff - but mainly lots of punishment. Breaking a slave; there's nothing like it. But you're broken now aren't you? Frankly he's champing at the bit to get a new lad and turn him round and break him down and train him up and destroy his soul like he did you. I think he's already got a few in mind." I shuddered. Nigel felt it. "Got to you, have I? Got you worried? Thought I would with that. You weren't expecting that were you? You thought you was safe." Nigel smiled and patted my head. "You're as dumb as Paul says you are." I couldn't understand what I was hearing. I said, "So ... what ... have you ...? is it? ... it's all decided, is it, Sir? I thought ... you said Paul was happy. You said I made Paul happy." I mumbled, welling up. Nigel laughed. "You didn't honestly believe it was going to go on forever, like that, did you?" He snorted. "You couldn't have." "I ... I thought ... if I was good ..." "No one's that good." "Paul ... promised." "I think you'll find that you were the only one doing any promising. Masters don't promise. You should know that. You know that don't you?" I swallowed. "Yes, Sir." "Give your life to a Master, it's a gamble. Ultimately tough; ultimately you lose. And I think that ... you just lost." He smiled. "Paul and I have talked. You'll be going back soon but there's going to be some changes we're going to discuss after this. Like an assessment. A report card." "Is that what this ... Did Paul tell you to tell me this?" "We talked," said Nigel, softly, "like I said. We talked." I buried my face in his fat neck as the tears started to gush and I started to shake with crying, a release of grief that had never come to me since that time when Squidger, when they told me when Squidger, when the news arrived. "Hey, no need for that," said Nigel. He didn't know. "Come here, lets cuddle. Obviously I hope Paul would let me buy you." "Buy me, Sir?" "Don't interrupt me, son. Obviously I'd have to pay him for everything he's paid out. In instalments, just like you would, if you wanted to walk; you'd have to buy your freedom. That's only fair considering how much Paul's done for you - the expense. And I'm not as well off as Paul so I'd have to recoup all of that somehow." "I don't follow what you mean Sir." "Well, whoring you out, for example, no more freebies for friends, and you'd have to get a job. I'm not like Paul: I can't afford to be as generous." "Can we ... sort out a bargain?" "Don't fuck with me, son. You're in no position to bargain. You're second-hand goods now, spoilt trash, worth less and less with each passing day, but cs you're already broken and trained, and used, and cs Paul's gonna cut me a deal cs we go way back, you've become an affordable option for me." He laughed. "You like humiliation, that much I'd obvious. Don't ya. Can you imagine what it'll be like if Paul sold you to me permanently? Can you imagine anything more shitty for you, more degrading for something as beautiful and well trained as you? Oh my god, what a thing ... "We have talked about it and I think we're going to come to an arrangement - that way you don't need to worry about being free or in control of your own life or have any responsibilities. That's right. Things just continue. And I get a source of income." I was speechless. "Ha ha," he said, "you're so dumb. I like that in a slave." He laughed like he was watching a show on television, and rubbed my head affectionately. "You here is just to see how it could work for Paul and me, what rearrangements are possible. Look, I'm thinking, if Paul wants, you can stay here, as my servant, sex toy, slave, whatever, all of that, and get your - well I never understand what you subs get out of being owned and treated like objects, get out of it, but whatever it is, you get that and I get to enjoy owning and degrading a real man, like owning and training an animal - which is great and I always wanted something like that! One thing I can see is you'll need retraining, just to fit in with my life. Man I'm looking forward to that. "I mean, I'm not entirely sure what Paul has in mind. He might want to keep you a bit longer, just to get his full use, after all. I don't know. We're going to discuss it. "Or perhaps you can walk. Paul might let you leave completely, grab what stuff you have from Paul's and hit the road, good luck - you're still young enough to make a fresh start and make something of yourself. "It sounds complicated, but it isn't." "Where would I go?" "Where does anybody go? You get a place. Get a job. Live your life like any normal guy." I wiped my face. I knew I was never going make anything of myself! Then I started crying again. "You're going to have to stop that," said Nigel, "or am I going to have to set an example?" --- I once saw this video and there's this three guys and they get more and more violent until they cum ... and then they part as friends. The problem in these situations is always the slave - the one in the middle who doesn't understand and doesn't get it, and as they are leaving he looks lost. ----------- The next day I was to leave to go back to Paul's. I left the house the way I'd entered it, found my clothes still by the front door, though wet from rain and freezing cold when I put them on. Nigel shut the door on me without saying goodbye. The punishment he had given me the night before seemed to have drained him of any feelings - or just exhausted him. My skin was marked and embarrassing. My muscles ached from where I had been holding on to the trestle, absorbing his blows. I was surprised someone who normally seemed so lethargic could summon such bursts of energy when it came to wielding the whip. The streets were bright with morning sunshine. I walked for ages. I didn't want to go home. At one point I was outside Paul's house, but I didn't go in. I kept walking. I walked into town and into the park and found a wet bench, still wet from the nights rainfall, and sat down, watching the birds scratch in the flowerbeds, listening to the dogs bark, waiting for my mind to stop spinning and for my heart to stop racing and for the fresh dawn of resolve to calm me down. I knew I had to wait. I'd got myself into a state and I knew it would take time to work out what to do. I knew it would take time. Time. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ END OF Even The First - PART FOURTEEN