If male on male sex stuff offends you or, by law, you're too young to have your sponge-like mind exposed to this BDSM-flavored tale - bye-bye. If you're an old fart who can still get it up - grab a tissue and hope for the best. For the rest of you, take the story's value commensurate with what you paid for it.
A big 'tanks' to masters JH and DH.
Please contact me at email@example.com. I appreciate reader feedback and comments.
Chapter 3, TRANSITION
"I understand the visit went well last week? Or, well up to a point," Master Trey said. "Sorry I had to miss Master Scott's reunion with you. In the future will make it a point to observe you two and make sure this new relationship is positive. I was in New York for the Tom of Finland convention. I also went shopping for your master and found some paraphernalia that will help you become a good domestic slave. By the way, I found a chastity restraint that uses a plastic locking device so alarms won't be set off at the airport." The master's expression was a mix of bemusement and distraction. "Very clever for our jet set brothers."
Bobby, head hanging low and sweating profusely, had graduated from the St. Andrew's cross and endured an hour of heavy-duty flogging with a variety of whips. He was now suspended from the ceiling with his leather wrist manacles chained to the embedded cleats. His feet were separated and secured to a spreader bar. Because of the anal impaler attached to the spreader bar, he had to stand on his toes to avoid total impalement 'What the hell is Master Trey talking about?' he wondered, more concerned about the probe up his ass and the new fix he was in.
Wires were wrapped around his nut sac and 'thing.' 'And now I'm wired for an electrocution,' he thought. 'What is it with these crazy fucks? What part of 'I don't want this' don't they understand?' In Bobby's distracted mind, it was almost a scene out of an old 'mad scientist' black and white movie. The only thing missing were the boiling caldrons, test tubes and a toothless hunchback hopping around in a lab coat.
"Master Scott wants us to accelerate your final phase of training. That's why I've decided to allow you to enjoy what I call 'musical appreciation hour.' You not only can listen to the sounds, you can feel them. This technological innovation can be a stimulating treat on several levels. " Master Trey smiled and looked over to Marcus. "What have you selected for the slave?"
"I thought we'd start with the '1812 Overture'. It's only 8:00 a.m. and this should wake the slave up," Marcus replied in a rather flat voice tone.
"Yes, from your vintage Chicago Symphony Orchestra collection."
"Excellent. When the cannons fire away, the slave will be able to feel the reverberation in his balls all the way from Moscow."
"Then I've selected the synthesized sounds of the fourth movement of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony from Clockwork Orange."
"That'll get his 'thing' tingling. Did you explain the function of the prince's wand you inserted in his urethra and PA piercing?"
"I don't think he noticed I had temporarily replaced his Prince Albert. But I'll tell him what to expect."
"Do that. I'm sorry to have to miss the slave's grand orgasm but I've got to go to Dominick's for a few dinner items. Why don't you explain to our guest how the sound system operates and what all those wires are for? "
"Yes, Sir. When will you return?"
"By noon, I suppose. Does the slave know that we are having a special farewell dinner in his honor tonight?"
"No, Sir. I thought you'd like to be the bearer of this good news." Marcus walked over and turned on a variety of electronic devices, amplifiers, equalizers, tuners and CD players. The corner glowed with the green and red illumination from the equipment.
"Well, then, this is the official announcement, slave. Tonight is the big move...kind of a graduation without diploma. Master Scott will join us for dinner. Afterwards, he is taking you home. So if you will begin the music program, the slave can digest all this information and properly feel the concert in his loins." Master Trey raised his arm in a fist salute and departed.
"This can be as enjoyable as you let it, slave. Basically, the electronic pulses of the music will be transmitted to your 'thing'. Once you get past the pain, it can become really stimulating. It never fails to make a trainee to shoot a big load when the cannons fire. That's why you're wearing the prince's wand. It'll control your cum. And when the fourth movement of Beethoven's Ninth is played, you'll probably get fired up again. Don't worry; you'll get your PA back, later," Marcus said with an unemotional shrug.
Bobby looked directly into Marcus's eyes with an 'I don't believe I'm hearing this' expression. 'Why don't we follow it up with Karen Carpenter's rendition of 'It's Only Just Begun' and get it over with?' he thought, as he looked down at the wires wrapped around his privates.
As the quiet chords of the 1812 started pulsing into Bobby's body, he thought about the dinner that night, the move back to his home and a new beginning with his brother, dearest.
"This is the first time you've been in the dining room, isn't it?" Marcus asked when he opened the door from the kitchen. He had been given permission to have Bobby help him get ready for the important dinner. "Um, Master Trey has given you permission to express yourself. This will be free time until the Masters come in for dinner. That'll be about an hour."
"Thank you, Sir. Can I, ah, get off my knees to help?" Bobby was relieved that Marcus had given him a thorough cleaning, shower, shave and oil massage after the agonizing musical morning. For all intents and purposes, he was ready to travel home with his master and was wearing all of his ornamentation.
"Not necessary. Come back to the kitchen." Marcus waited until Bobby turned around and crawled to the cabinet area. "Your work station will be on the floor where the newspapers are placed. You can cut vegetables, tear romaine lettuce, and generally be my assistant chef from below," Marcus replied in an upbeat manner. "I want this dinner to be special for everyone."
"Probably just as well. My 'thing' is still playing the 1812," Bobby laughed as he arranged the cutting board, vegetables and small plastic paring knife. 'The only thing this would attack successfully is a pimple,' he thought as he gripped the knife.
"I'm glad you look at everything in a positive manner. Guess you're all ready to go?"
"Sir, what's there to pack except for my pride?" Bobby answered a little too quickly.
"Slave, I understand where you're coming from. I probably felt the same way when I came into Master's world several years ago."
"Yes, but you weren't the victim of a kidnapping, Sir."
"Perhaps not. But things have a way of working out for the best. I'm sure Master Scott does care for you in his own way. Master Trey thinks that the two of you will be good for each other and that you sub-consciously want this kind of relationship with your, um, former brother."
"Sir, excuse me, but how can you say that? My master and former brother has stolen everything I own and put me into a situation that is only best described as horrific."
"I can only voice what I've been told. I think that Master Scott convinced Master Trey that you secretly relished domination."
"BS, Sir. Up to less than a month ago, I was a very focused, take-charge man enjoying a successful life. If anyone secretly wants to be dominated, it's Master Scott." Bobby purposely ratcheted down the emotion in his voice. "You said you've been here for several years...but you're a free man. I assume there was some choice in your case? Kick my ass if I'm out of line, Sir."
"I think I've kicked your ass enough over this past couple of weeks. Your arrival has given me conflicted feelings, to say the least. On one hand, Master Trey is helping out Master Scott get his life together and you're a piece of a complicated puzzle. What you've just told me creates discomfort. And this curious activity with the slave black market makes me very nervous." Marcus bent down and stroked Bobby's hairless scalp.
"Nervous?" Bobby purposely did not say 'sir'. There was no reaction.
"You've got to understand where I'm coming from. Master Trey has raised me from the age of 12. It's a long story that I won't tell you today. Just say that he came to my rescue when I didn't have a home. I knew I was gay and tended to be somewhat submissive. Master slowly brought me into his world and exposed me to kind of an abbreviated version of his lifestyle. After school, he taught me about bondage, masters, subs...all the stuff that you now know. I'm the product of his teaching, training and encouragement and he's allowed me to find my level of comfort."
"But he doesn't submit you to the dungeon?"
"No. I've experienced everything down there only to be a better trainer. Master and his group know that I'm only into a very mild, submissive lifestyle. As you probably noticed in the pool gatherings, I'm more a facilitator and organizer than participant."
Bobby pondered this admission for a moment while he peeled the carrots and shaped them into nuggets. Could it be that Marcus was revealing himself on purpose? "And your role as the trainer?" he asked, looking up.
"Just a job to please the person who really raised me to be a man. Master Trey's really the father I never had."
"What would you be doing if you weren't here?" Bobby saw a wedge that he intended to drive in. He also knew that he felt close to this young man and would never hurt him.
"A school teacher. I have a degree from Northern Illinois State that's been gathering dust for four years. But enough of this talk. I want you to promise me that you will call me if there is ever a problem with your master that you can't resolve. I've seen how Master Scott can react at times when he gets upset. It's not a pretty picture."
"Thank you, Sir. I'll remember that. And please know that I have a special place in my heart for you. If things were different, I would love to explore these feelings." Bobby knew he had revealed more than was needed.
"But that, unfortunately, is probably not to be. You're a slave who is with a master in our group. Off the record, Master Trey thinks your master needs a little training to become a true master. He wasn't pleased about the abusive outbursts from Master Scott the other evening."
Bobby absorbed the information, raised an eyebrow and said nothing.
"I'm just a bystander in your life, however closer I'd like to be, too." Marcus went over to the sink and stared blankly out the window for a few moments before continuing, "Okay, let's do the salad and then get the dining room ready for dinner. The masters will be here in 20 minutes."
The two silently prepared the rest of the dinner, set the table and opened the wine for breathing. At 6:00 p.m. promptly, a bell rang and a light indicated that it had come from the den.
"The masters are ready. I will bring in the hors d'oeuvres and napkins. You can follow behind me. Try not to knock over anything. Master Trey is a real antique queen," Marcus said with a snicker. "And in case you haven't figured it out, free time is over."
Bobby followed Marcus through the dining room, living room, foyer and into the den. He had seldom seen such a magnificent collection of oriental rugs, Queen Anne-style furniture and 18th century English landscape oil paintings. On every table surface were silver-framed photographs of beautiful boys and men.
"Marcus, right on time with some delicious snacks. Master Scott and I would love to munch on a few of your delicacies and have a drink. You know what I like," Master Trey said.
"Yes, Sir. Ketel One on the rocks with a splash of cranberry juice. What will Master Scott have?"
"A Coors would be great. And while you're at it, bring a bowl so that my booby can lap up some of Colorado's finest. This is a special day, isn't it?"
"Indeed. I'm very pleased that everything has worked out so well," Master Trey said. "Just think, slave," he continued, looking at Bobby, "tonight you'll be under the same roof as your master."
Bobby caught a glimpse of both masters before he assumed the position. The masters were both in casual polo shirts, slacks and deck shoes. He recognized one of his favorite Tommy Hilfiger polos on his brother.
Marcus displayed no emotion, nodded and opened a beer for Scott. After setting the bottle on the cocktail table, he went over to the wet bar to prepare Master Trey's cocktail. He scooped ice in the glass, measured out a couple of ounces of the Dutch vodka and splashed it with Cranberry juice. "I'll be back in a moment with a bowl for the slave," he said as he left the room.
Without waiting for his host, Scott started drinking the beer. Master Trey shrugged and hoisted his glass to no one in particular. Silence prevailed until Marcus returned.
"I think this dog bowl will do." Marcus put a bowl down in front of Bobby and went over to the bar for another beer.
"Here, I'll pour the rest of my beer into the bowl and you can give me a fresh one," Scott said. "If we weren't in such luxurious surroundings, I'd add a little human liquid to the bowl." Master Scott laughed and leaned over to fill Bobby's bowl.
"Best save that for your home," Master Trey said, chuckling as he rolled his eyes at Marcus.
"I do want to give booby a chance to enjoy himself. Let's play a game. On three, my slave gets to see how fast he can lap up the beer. If it's not fast enough, then I'll have to punish him later."
"Oh, good, a contest. Let's see what happens. Just don't spill anything." Master Trey looked a little perturbed that this was taking place in his den on his antique Turkish Kozak carpet.
"On three, let it rip. One, two, three. Go, booby."
Bobby knew that he needed to excel so that Scott could save face. Within moments, he lapped up all the beer and let out a small belch. He was sure that Scott remembered that beer had never been one of his favorite beverages.
"Excellent, slave. I say, Scott, your boy...booby, as you call it...really is task-motivated."
"Yes, booby did a good job. It encourages me about what we'll accomplish at home."
"Well, that happens soon. Let's finish our drinks and then adjourn to the dining room. Marcus tells me that he's prepared several of your favorite foods. I do suggest that we don't give 'it' any more alcoholic beverage. He'd be worse for wear."
"Trey, I agree. And I'm famished." Scott took his beer, chugged the rest of the bottle and stood up.
"Marcus, take the slave and go back to the kitchen and get ready. Master Scott and I will be in presently."
"Yes, Sir." Marcus bowed slightly, picked up the empty beer bottles, bowl and walked away. He looked back to make sure Bobby was following.
Back in the kitchen, Marcus was the epitome of efficiency. "You can help by taking out two dog bowls to the dining room and placing them on the plastic-covered portion of the floor by the head of the table. That will be Master Scott's seat tonight. You will sit at his feet dining on your slave chow and water. He may offer you some of his food. If he does so, accept it with gratitude."
Bobby nodded and grabbed a bowl in his teeth and crawled out to the dining room. 'Why the hell did I even think I'd be sitting at the table?' he wondered, sadly. 'But not even real food? Just another evening with human kibbles and bits? How special.'
Within moments, the two masters arrived in the dining room. Trey pointed to the guest of honor chair and silently nodded for Scott to be seated. Without missing a beat, the door opened and Bobby crawled out and stopped at Scott's feet. The two bowls were now filled with nutritional pellets and water, respectively. Marcus, carrying two huge shrimp cocktails to the table, entered next. After placing the food in front of the two masters, he went to a sideboard where beer and white wine were chilling in a silver cooler. He deftly poured the beverages without interrupting the conversation.
"Oh, Master Trey, you read my mind. The large shrimp with Marcus's spicy sauce is something I've dreamt about since your last dinner party. If you say that this will be followed by a meat loaf I think I smell, this indeed will be a special evening."
"I knew you'd like this. Feel free to share anything you want with the slave."
"Definitely, this is an evening for sharing." Scott took a jumbo shrimp in his fingers, dunked it in the sauce, and took a large bite. While chewing, he looked down at Bobby and smiled as he flipped the demolished tail in the direction of the dog bowl. "Enjoy some shrimp, booby."
The rest of the evening was variations on a theme of Scott humiliating Bobby. Master Trey didn't seem to notice what was being offered. Marcus discretely kept pace with the unspoken interactions of master to slave. Twice, he bent down to see if Bobby was coping. He quietly, without notice, retrieved the shrimp tails.
Bobby silently thanked Marcus with his eyes. He didn't want to be forced to swallow the tails later and possibly choke.
"Well, Master Trey, the dinner was super but we must get going. Now that it is dark, this the best time to bring booby home. If we're careful, the neighbors won't notice a nude slave crawling from a parked car under the carport to my town home."
"Scott, why not park the car in the attached garage?" Master Trey asked.
"I've bought some special equipment to start my own dungeon. Booby's Visa card has come in very handy. The garage was the only logical place."
"Oh, I'd like to see what you've created." Master Trey seemed to be very intrigued at what Scott had done.
"Give me a few days and come over for dinner. I'd like to entertain you and show you my new home."
Excellent. Shall we say Saturday night at 7:00 p.m.?"
"It's a date. Now, it is time for us to depart. I guess there's no suitcase?" Scott mockingly asked with a laugh. "Seriously, I humbly thank you and Marcus for molding my boy." He went over and hugged Master Trey and Marcus.
"See you Saturday. Oh, here is the special gift I got for your boy in New York." Master Trey handed a wrapped package to Scott and watched as the master walked out of the dining room to the front door followed by Bobby on his hands and knees.
"Good night, Master Scott. Good luck to both of you," Marcus said as he opened the door.
"Luck has been on my side recently. I plan on it continuing," Scott replied.
'Not if I can help it,' Bobby thought as he crawled down the two steps to the main driveway. He almost crapped when he saw the familiar, sparkling Mercedes parked 10 feet away.
"Back seat floor, booby. I thought I'd save the logistics problem of bringing you home in the trunk," Scott said. He watched as Bobby lifted himself into the floor of the back seat. After Bobby was completely inside, Scott slammed the door, waved to Marcus and got in the driver's seat. The ignition clicked and the masterpiece of German engineering purred to life.
The route from Hinsdale to Near North Chicago took over an hour. Around 10 p.m., Scott glided the sedan into the assigned parking carport space in the carport. He turned off the engine and lights. Looking around, he saw a neighbor taking out the garbage to the dumpster. When the neighbor returned to the adjoined town home, Scott got out of the Mercedes and walked around to the rear door. He opened it and said, "Out."
Bobby, somewhat clumsily, managed to get down to the pavement. His stomach knotted as he looked around at the familiar surroundings: a home he hadn't seen in over five weeks. Without being told, he crawled to the back door and waited for his master to unlock it.
"Welcome home, booby," Scott said quietly as he opened the door. "We're going to the master bedroom. I think you remember where that room is...my room, now." Scott locked the door and watched Bobby waddle through the kitchen to the hallway and upstairs to the bedrooms.
'Hmm,' Bobby thought, 'except for dirt and debris, everything looks like it did when I left. Well, except for the steel cleat. He saw the security device anchored into the wall in the kitchen as he passed through. After successfully negotiating the stairway, he automatically crawled into his former bedroom. The major differences here, aside from his clothes strewn around the floor, were personal pictures that Scott had hung. He noticed another steel cleat and chain attached.
"Assume position, booby," Scott walked over and grabbed the chain. He quietly and systematically attached the chain and a lock to Bobby's slave collar. "This will be for your own protection as well as mine," Scott said as he started undressing. The shirt and underwear joined the pile of other dirty clothes. The pants landed in the opposite corner. "Tomorrow will be laundry day. While I'm at work, you can perform a list of tasks I've prepared." Now nude, Scott smiled and stroked his cock a few times.
Bobby knew that he was expected to take the penis in his mouth. With the beer Scott had consumed, he prepared himself for a voluminous onslaught of golden man nectar. He crawled over to Scott and took the semi-hard member in his mouth.
"You've been trained well. Maybe there'll still be some beer flavor for you to enjoy," Scott said with a chuckle before he let loose with a steady stream. "I'm impressed that you haven't spilled anything. Excellent." He waited while Bobby swallowed everything and tongued the cock clean.
Bobby was beyond being disgusted at drinking a man's waste. He resigned himself to his learned duty.
"Join me in bed, booby. I think you're ready for some Master Scott juice up your slave pussy. Tonight I want to enjoy you in the most primitive doggie-style. Take out the butt plug and get up here. And don't trip over the chain for Christ's sake."
Bobby removed the plug and looked to Scott for guidance.
"Just put it in your mouth and join me. We won't be long."
'A fast doggie fuck and that's my welcome home? That's all I mean to this master?' Bobby felt relieved that he had been thoroughly cleaned earlier in the day. He figured that there wouldn't be much ass slime to contend with. He slowly rose and joined Scott in bed.
"I thought this would be the best way to become one tonight. We can experiment with other techniques and positions later on. In your honor I will use some lube. No reason to get rough this evening. Just don't expect this every time," Scott said with a snide laugh. After slicking his large, hard cock, he entered Bobby's chute. "Oh, if you want you can get yourself off by jerking your 'thing', go ahead. I want you to love this as much as I know I will," Scott growled as he plunged in."
Bobby grabbed his hard 'thing' and started beating off to Scott's steady strokes. 'Thank god that he's at least hitting my love nut,' he considered, as the strokes became a pounding. 'Oh, yeah, slam it home. Maybe I can get off if he doesn't cum soon.'
Scott suddenly yelled, "Fuck", and shot abruptly his seed. He continued pumping until Bobby's sphincter muscles milked him dry. He slumped over Bobby's body as exhaustion overcame the moment. Scott felt down under his slave and noticed that there was no cum on the sheet. "Doesn't seem that you came, booby. Turn over and let your master take care of that. Put your butt plug in, first." Scott got to his knees and released Bobby's body.
The butt plug was removed from his mouth and Bobby inserted it into his used asshole. Slowly, he turned around and lay down on his back. His 'thing' was still gorged with excitement. 'My virile little brother certainly doesn't have much staying power,' Bobby judged. 'Immature or premature ejaculation?'
"Enjoy this moment...it won't happen often." Scott leaned down and took Bobby into his mouth. With expertise, from years gone by, Scott started to suck off his former sibling. He seemed fascinated with the Prince Albert ring. For the longest time, he chewed on the metal and tongued the surrounding spongy glans. Finally his head bobbed up and down with speed and determination.
'Oh, shit,' Bobby thought, with some guilt, 'I do remember these times.' He forced himself to keep quiet as he moved closer to the first orgasm at home with his unwelcomed master. He tapped Scott's shoulders as a warning to the pending sperm explosion. Scott just kept sucking. "Ohhh," Bobby groaned as he shot his seed. Scott hungrily accepted and swallowed everything. He stopped and let Bobby's 'thing' become soft in his mouth.
"Booby, I hope you enjoyed that?" Scott asked after he pulled away from the flaccid slave sex tool. "I must say, I did enjoy tasting your offering. Sometimes the unplanned things we experience are the best. Now, speaking of best, I've got one final surprise for tonight. Open Master Trey's gift."
Scott handed the wrapped box to Bobby and waited for it to be opened. After removing the ribbon and paper, Bobby opened a plain box and took out a clear plastic curved instrument. The attached label said 'The Curve - Male Chastity Belt.' Bobby looked at Scott with a questioning look.
"No reason for my booby to have temptations when I'm not around. Stay where you are and I'll help put it on." Scott took the translucent curved cock cage and smiled. I'm going to apply some lube so your large 'thing' won't chafe. Don't want to damage the property," Scott continued, with a laugh. He moistened Bobby's 'thing' and fitted the body cuff about Bobby's slave balls before aligning the locking pinholes. Finally he fitted on the cage and inserted the locking pin.
With the chastity cage in place, Bobby looked down at his crotch in disbelief. Scott picked up on the puzzled expression.
"Don't worry, booby. It comes off very easily. I'll make sure that 'it' stays clean. Now let's sleep. We will have free time in the morning for a talk before I go to work."
Bobby looked up and started to move his body into a resting position on the bed.
"No, there's no room for you here. You'll find your old yoga mat under the bed. Crawl down and retrieve it 'cause your place is on the floor." There was no malicious tone of Scott's command.
Within moments, the two bodies were lying horizontal; Master Scott on the bed and his slave on the thin rubber mat. Master Scott was asleep shortly thereafter; his slave stayed awake for most of the night.
'Justice will prevail,' Bobby determined, as he finally restlessly drifted into slumber land. 'Booby, my ass.'
TO BE CONTINUED
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