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.
For comments and especially flames, contact me at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Chapter 4, GUESS WHO'S NOT COMING TO DINNER
The stillness of the early morning was interrupted by the sudden radio alarm and country music. Bobby took a moment to orient his consciousness to the surroundings. 'So much for sleeping,' he thought as he stretched on his old yoga mat. 'Guess my days of waking up to classical music are over...for a while.'
He also was aware of pain in his crotch. He looked down and grimaced at the sight of his 'thing' encased in the clear plastic chastity cup. It resembled a grocery store ham in a shrink-wrapped package. 'Well, a pressed ham to which a Prince Albert was attached,' he considered as he tried to adjust himself. Bobby shrugged and decided that 'it' would accept defeat and deflate soon.
He looked up at the bed and saw a leg dangling over on the side. As he got to his knees, Bobby saw the clock on the radio: 6:03 a.m. The leg slightly stirred and eased back to the bed. The movement triggered a trained slave response. Bobby immediately assumed the position and waited for Scott to get up.
"Oh, good morning, booby. I see you're ready to serve me. Good boy." Scott slowly sat up and swung his legs over to the side. "First things, first."
Bobby got to his knees, saw a raging hardon in front of his face, and opened his mouth. He knew that he was expected to facilitate the most basic of bodily functions that were required by a man first thing in the morning.
"My goddamn dick is like a rock this morning. Give me a chance to relax a bit," Scott said in a patronizing manner as he stood up. After the master waited a few moments, the warm liquid surged into Bobby's mouth and throat. Scott blankly looked forward as he discharged the waste.
'And this is what I get to look forward to every morning?' Bobby wondered as he quickly swallowed.
"Not a drop spilled. You've been taught well. Now, go into the bathroom and relieve yourself before you turn on my shower. This morning you'll learn what I will expect each morning during the week. While you get the water temperature just right, I'll go out to the kitchen and make coffee. During breakfast we can have free time and talk a little. I'm sure you have a few questions," Scott said with a laugh. "By the way, as you probably guessed, I prefer to sleep in the raw. You, of course, have no choice in the matter."
The chain attached to his neck collar was long enough for Bobby to navigate into the master bathroom. He eased himself over to an exaggerated sitting position on the porcelain of the toilet. Marcus had told him that, under no circumstances, would a slave ever use a toilet seat. Further, it would be the master's prerogative to permit the use of toilet paper. 'We'll cross that road soon,' he concluded, as the remainder of his morning pee drained through a hole at the end of the attached chastity cage.
After looking around the bathroom, Bobby decided that this area was an ultimate monument to Scott's sloppiness. Dried yellow stains were around the toilet base and floor. Bobby also noticed short pubic hairs gathering around the baseboard, along with dust balls. He rose from the toilet and took some tissue to wipe the porcelain clean. When he slid the glass door open, Bobby wasn't surprised to see a light buildup of scum on the bottom of the tub and hair meshed together on the drain. He turned on the water and waited for the temperature to arrive at a warm 100 degrees.
"Ah, I see that we are in synch with the morning routine," Scott said as he entered and walked over to the shower. He nudged Bobby aside so that he could test the temperature of the water. "Perfect. Now I'm going to get in the shower and you are to follow. I like my shampoo first. For bathing, you may use your hands to soap me up. Oh, yes, if you see me erect, you know what to do. I do think that I require your services this morning, booby."
Bobby, as instructed, shampooed and washed Scott's body all over. When it came to the expected erection, he lowered himself to Scott's crotch and performed the required task. Once Scott was drained and cleaned, he indicated that he was ready to get out. Scott expected to be toweled dry by Bobby.
"No reason for you to shower this morning 'cause you'll have a busy day cleaning. However, I do expect you to be spotless, like the home, when I return each evening. You should budget your time so that you start your personal hygiene routine by 3:00 p.m. Since you won't be watching Ellen, I assume that won't be a problem?" Scott said with a snicker.
'Or, Oprah in the morning?' Bobby considered with contempt. 'My master looks at me as some sort of house-frau doing all the things a little woman should do.' Bobby passively finished the drying process on his knees to handle the legs and feet. He did, in passing, admire his brother's body.
"Okay, here's the deal. I'm going to shave and dress. You, booby, are to go to the kitchen and prepare my breakfast; O.J., cereal and milk on the side. Go back to the bedroom and look in my closet. You will find an extra-long chain that will allow you to move around each room. I'll join you in a sec to attach it. Now, git your cute slave buns in gear. I love to see you crawling from the rear."
'A fucking poet, too?' Bobby thought while he moved on his hands and knees back to his former bedroom and his former walk-in closet. He opened the closet door and reached up to flip on the light. There, before him, were all of his clothes that were now part of his brother's wardrobe. Amongst the shoe racks was a coiled section of chain. He grabbed the chain and hauled it back to the bedroom. 'I'll get this place straightened out later. Just the basics for now.' He set aside the chain, pushed the yoga mat back under the bed and stood to straighten the sheets. Since he saw no dried evidence of last night's activities, Bobby decided that he didn't need to change them.
"Very good, booby. I like that you take initiative. But you have made a serious error. Any time your slave body is in my bed, the sheets will be changed the next morning. But we can discuss the rules and demerit system at breakfast. Sit down so I can change the chain." Scott watched Bobby sit down and extend his legs. Very carefully, Scott went to the corner of the room, out of reach to Bobby, and took a set of keys from a pocket of the pants worn the previous night. He walked back, opened the lock, took off the short chain and replaced it with the longer one. "You're all set to move around. The chain will reach the furthest corners of the town home. Word of warning: I don't want to see the walls scuffed with chain marks. Be very careful when crawling around. Now I'm going to dress while you do breakfast. See you in a few minutes downstairs."
Bobby bowed his head and crawled out of the bedroom, down the hallway and to the carpeted stairs. He decided to sit on his butt and, with his feet a couple of steps ahead, scoot down. He was careful not to rub and leave any skid marks as a trail. Once at the front entry hallway, Bobby was tempted to walk. However, he thought it best not to push the envelope. 'Timing,' he decided, 'is everything. If I can survive a little longer, something will turn in my favor.' He made note of where his brother kept the keys.
By the time Scott appeared in the kitchen, looking fresh in his acquired wardrobe, the table had been set for one. Bobby was in slave repose waiting instructions by the two plastic dog bowls next to the table. Scott took one bowl and filled it with tap water. A portion of dry bite-sized frosted mini-wheats was poured into the other bowl. He placed the two bowls in front of Bobby and pointed with his foot to indicate this was breakfast. Scott poured his coffee and sat down.
'Yum,' Bobby thought sarcastically. 'And the shithead is wearing my tassel loafers.' Knowing the rules, he leaned in and started eating without any utensil or hands to help scoop in the food.
"Ah, good coffee. I'm using the Peet's brand that you had in the freezer. Good choice." After draining the glass of juice, Scott poured milk over his cereal and started munching and slurping away. Within minutes he was finished. He looked down at Bobby and shook his head when he noticed only half of the breakfast eaten.
Bobby looked up at Scott, tilted his head as a dog would do and made an expression of 'I'm trying'.
"Let's have our free time now and you can finish your breakfast after I leave. I've posted on the bulletin board a list of things I expect to be done on a daily basis. Also, there is a schedule of demerits that will be awarded to you for failure to perform satisfactorily. I'm very pleased at your first attempt this morning to sort things out. Not changing sheets will, of course, be worth several demerits. If you don't finish your food...more demerits. Each day I will set out your lunch and dinner food. If I find anything else eaten or drunk when I return, there will be serious demerits. On Sundays, we will discuss your accumulated demerits and I will render punishment in the garage. Now, I'm opening the floor to your questions. We'll do this each morning until you really understand your role in my life." Scott looked at Bobby and offered a warm, non-threatening smile.
"Um, Sir, I want this to work and just need to know what you see me doing. I mean, will I be in the town house all the time?" Bobby put on his best large, wide-eyed, questioning expression.
"Bobby, you will be here to please me. I will be pleased when you have done all the chores that are listed. I will be pleased when you take care of my, ah, needs, and when you know that any physical pain is only rendered with love."
"Can I get exercise? I don't want to turn into a tub of lard before your eyes," Bobby replied with a concerned expression.
"Good point. Immediately you can set up some sort of workout program with push-ups, crunches and whatever. The garage will become our special place. Next week I'm going to discuss with Master Trey various pieces of equipment that I need to install to make you a better slave. Maybe I'll buy a Stairmaster, an exercise bike and some weights. We'll see. I'm going to love outfitting the garage for you." Scott's smile reverted to smugness. "Right now I just have the basics."
"I guess at some point I'll have to submit a resignation letter to my job. As you pointed out, I don't have that many close friends so maybe when their phone calls aren't returned they'll eventually forget me. What really worries me, Sir, is how the family will accept this. Mom and Dad...our older brother and his family."
"Booby, maybe you should seek a leave of absence? You're able to bring in a lot of money and if your acceptance of our relationship progresses, I think you'll be able to work. As far as the family is concerned, at some point we'll cross that bridge. Certainly by the time that we go to the folks' Labor Day cookout. Maybe it's just something that we just don't mention for a while," Scott replied, in a contemplative mood.
"What should I call you when we are alone?"
"I think that 'Sir' will do nicely. You noticed the respect that Marcus has for Master Trey after all these years. If you work on it, the same thing will happen. And I'm not opposed to allowing flexibility in your living conditions here once I'm convinced that you really accept what you're being offered. I see us taking vacations, going to ball games and movies at some point. And then, your job. Think of what we're going through right now as 'tough love'."
Bobby silently nodded and decided that he would bring up the core cause for these hostilities very cautiously. "Err, Sir, don't get mad when I tell you that I now understand why you have strong feelings about the way I treated you when we were kids. I'm very sorry." He hung his head down as he made this statement. He fully expected to be swatted. Instead, there was silence for a few moments.
"Booby, that was a very difficult period for me. I was wrestling with my homosexuality and you just shoved it in my face...well, your 'thing'...and mocked my gay feelings. I was 12 and you were 15. You kept that up for a year before I begged you not to make me suck you any more. Don't you realize that I worshiped you and would have done anything for you?"
"Ya...umm, yes, Sir, I do now. Maybe things can improve between us down the road?"
"That's the plan. Listen, I'm off to work. You've got the list and you'll notice a can of food for lunch. Just so you know, I'm having a couple of friends over tonight for a few beers and to watch a movie. I love my den and entertainment center," Scott said with a raised eyebrow. "These are guys you've come in contact with at Master Trey's home. They'll expect to be shown all courtesies, if you get my drift."
'Yes, Sir, I understand. I will accomplish everything on the list. Tomorrow, can we talk about the dinner you're planning for Master Trey?"
"Yep, Saturday is in a couple of days. We can make a list tomorrow and I'll shop for everything. I'm off, booby. Have a good day." Scott patted Bobby's scalp, grabbed the unread Trib and left the home.
Bobby was a little startled when he heard another lock slip into place once the door was closed. Since he had been told that he could move around like a free man walking when no one was around, he got up and walked to the front door. Upon cursory inspection, he verified that a new deadbolt lock had been installed. When he went to the kitchen door to the garage, he saw the same deadbolt.
'That untrusting cocksucker,' he thought, as he started straightening up the kitchen. 'On the other hand, he probably knows me better than most people. Gotta keep my cool...'
'All in all, the friends that Scott had over the other night weren't so bad,' Bobby thought. 'They almost seemed a little embarrassed that I was giving them blow jobs in the comfort of the den.' He was busily making the final preparations for Master Trey's dinner. Scott had run to the market for some more beer and to Sam's for a bottle of good French wine. He had left Bobby unchained for the first time. 'Probably more for show than anything else with Master Trey coming,' he decided.
'Hey, Booby, everything smells great. You were always the best cook in the family," Scott said when he returned. He put a couple of six-packs of Coors in the fridge and left a bottle of a Rhone red on the counter.
"Everything's going well, Sir. The roast will be finished in a half-hour and ready to carve after you two have had cocktails. I got the recipe from Marcus for the cheese balls that you guys like. I think you'll be pleased."
"Good. I'm going to get changed and will be right back. If he arrives before I come down, open the door and greet him in slave position. You are permitted to speak and move on your feet when Master Trey or myself give you permission. You've got the Ketel One and cranberry juice?"
"All set, Sir. You're having Coors?"
"Yeah, I'll take one with me to have while I change." Scott grabbed a beer from the fridge and walked away. "Make me proud of you tonight. This is a very special occasion for me."
'If it's so special why is he slugging down beer like water?' Bobby wondered as he tabulated approximately three beers that had been drunk earlier. He was just putting the finishing touches on the salad when the doorbell rang. Bobby briskly ran to the door, got down on his knees and opened the door. He bowed when Master Trey walked in.
"What a nice way to greet me, boy. I'd say you've received excellent training, somewhere," he said with a chuckle.
"I've been given permission to speak tonight, Sir. May I make your favorite cocktail? Master Scott will be right down. He suggested that I direct you to the den."
"And I will give you permission to stand while you are serving tonight. At dinner, however, you will join us by your master's feet."
"Yes, Sir. Thank you." Bobby bowed a little deeper before he slowly rose. He couldn't help but notice that Master Trey's shaved head came almost to his nose when he was allowed to stand straight. The master was immaculately dressed in a Tommy Bahama shirt, linen slacks and loafers. "Please follow me to the den."
"It's only now, after not seeing 'it' for almost a week, that I appreciate what a beautiful body you have. Marcus kept telling me how well you had developed." As they walked into the den, Master Trey ran his hands down Bobby's back and onto his round buttocks. "Oh, yes, very well developed. Maybe after dessert you can show me more?"
"It will be my pleasure, Sir. Please excuse me while I prepare your cocktail. What music would you like? I think that Master Scott was listening to Shanya Twain earlier."
"Um, anything else?" Master Trey asked with his nose slightly wrinkled.
"I, err, we've got a pretty wide range of music. Everything from Harry Connick, Jr., to Joshua Bell."
"Bell, that cutie? What do you have featuring juicy Joshua?" Master Trey turned on a huge, wrinkled smile.
"Would you like Saint-SaŽns: Violin Concerto 3? I know right where it is," Bobby answered innocently, on the surface.
"Excellent choice; I didn't know you appreciated fine music," Master Trey replied as he eased into an overstuffed chair.
"There's much you don't know about me, Sir." Bobby went to the cabinet, pulled out the CD, and put it in the player. Within moments, the melodious music was filling the den. Bobby nodded and went to the kitchen to make drinks.
When Bobby returned to the den, Scott was with Master Trey. He bowed slightly and offered the guest his preferred Ketel One and cranberry juice on the rocks. Afterwards, he walked over to Scott and offered the bottle of Coors.
"Thank you, boy." Scott glared at Bobby with annoyance when he grabbed the beer bottle. The glass remained on the tray.
"I commend your slave for making me feel welcomed in your home, Scott. Even allowing me to select music. It appears that he is adapting well?"
"It appears so," Scott said, drinking directly from the bottle.
"Sir, if I may be excused so I can finalize preparations for the dinner?"
"Let me walk out with you and just review everything. Trey, I'll be right back."
"Don't worry about me. I'm enjoying the cocktail and the music in your beautiful home."
Scott took another swig and walked out of the den, followed closely by Bobby. When they got to the kitchen, he turned to Bobby and said, "Don't screw up, boy. I didn't want that boring music played. What other surprises do you have in mind?" Scott slammed the rest of the beer down his throat and reached in the refrigerator for another one.
"Um, Sir, I just did what I thought Master Trey would like. I'm sorry and I promise there won't be any more surprises tonight. I want to make your night a big success." Bobby decided that it'd be best to get down on his knees and communicate obedience.
"Aw, alright, booby. Maybe I over-reacted." Scott petted Bobby as he spoke. "Now, get up and finish dinner. Come back in 10 minutes with another cocktail for Master Trey and another beer for me." Scott took his fresh beer and departed.
One hour and three beers later for Scott, the two masters were finishing dinner. Master Trey took one final bite of the prime rib of beef and savored it with his wine. Bobby kept busy eating his dry pellet dinner and lapping water on the floor next to Scott. When something needed servicing at the table, Scott would nudge Bobby with his foot. This was an improvised signal that alerted Bobby to get up and take care of the masters' needs. The latest nudge became more of a kick.
Master Trey scowled at the kick before he said, "That was a most delightful dinner, Scott. I'm very satisfied." He nodded at Bobby that he wished his plate and silver removed.
"Please save room for a light desert that booby has prepared. Some sort of sponge cake with a strawberry sauce," Scott replied with an obvious slur in his speaking pattern and looked like he was not focusing visually.
Bobby silently removed Scott's plate and utensils as well, and asked, "Master Trey, may I bring more wine?"
"Just a tad with dessert would be fine." Master Trey smiled before wiping his mouth.
"I'll have one more beer." Scott's body was weaving slightly as he took his napkin in his hands.
"Yes, Sir." He noticed that Scott seemed to be suspended in an independent thought. Master Trey was watching with a worried expression. Bobby took his free hand and poured more wine and removed the most recently emptied beer bottle.
Bobby hurried back to the kitchen and dished out the dessert. With the tray loaded and balanced, he returned with the two deserts on flat plates, dessert forks and one beer. He discerned that neither man had engaged in conversation. Master Trey smiled when Bobby placed the dessert and a fork in front of him.
"Beautiful," Master Trey exclaimed.
Bobby walked over to Scott and was ready to serve the dessert and beer when the unthinkable happened. He didn't see Scott's leg stretched out from the table and abruptly tripped, sending the food and beer flying into Scott's chest and lap. Bobby was stricken with immediate horror at the faux paux and immediately rushed to Scott's side to clean up the mess.
"You bumbling fool," Scott yelled as he backhanded Bobby on the side of his head. Bobby stumbled before regaining his balance.
"I...I'm...I'm sorry, Sir, I..."
"Sorry, my ass." Scott unsteadily stood and kicked Bobby in the leg. "I'm going to make you pay, you miserable cocksucker," he yelled as he moved closer to Bobby.
"Now just a minute, Scott. There's no reason to react this way and abuse the slave. He tripped on your foot that shouldn't have been in the way," Master Trey said with authority as he stood.
"Butt out of it. This is my slave and my business," Scott growled. He turned and glared at Master Trey.
"It is my business when a master attacks and abuses a slave," Master Trey said with a loud voice.
"Bullshit, you little gnome. I'm tired of you telling me what to do." Scott lunged forward and bitch-slapped his guest.
"Uggh," groaned Master Trey. "You barbarian, I should..."
Scott clinched his fist and slammed into Master Trey's stomach. As Trey doubled over, Scott picked up the older master and forcefully sent him flying across the room. Master Trey's head struck a side chair before he landed on the floor.
Bobby decided that this was the moment he had been waiting for. 'Carpe diem,' was his last thought before he joined the fray. With great momentum he ran up to Scott and swung accurately at his brother's face in a one-two, under-cut, full-frontal series of punches. Before Scott could react, Bobby kneed him brutally in the groin. Out of the corner of his eye, Bobby saw that Master Trey was lying lifelessly on the carpet.
"Ewww, you fuck..." Scott yelled before Bobby's manhandling continued.
"Scott, you evil, conniving asshole," Bobby cursed as he delivered an accurate rabbit punch to Scott's neck and larynx that sent Scott into a crumpled posture and a slow fade to the floor. In another karate move he had learned in class, Bobby landed another paralyzing blow to the kidney area. It finished Scott's defenses for the night.
Bobby immediately took inventory and decided that Master Trey was going to be out for a while. When he checked the pulse, there was nothing to indicate that there was a medical emergency. He kneeled down over Scott and fished the keys from his pants pocket. He was pretty sure that one of the keys opened the door to the garage. Whatever Scott had built out there could probably be used to restrain his brother.
He grabbed one of Scott's ankles and roughly dragged his brother from the dining room to the kitchen before stopping in front of the locked door to the garage. Bobby took a deep breath, inserted the largest key and engaged the lock. There was a 'click' when he turned the key. He dropped Scott's leg, quickly opened the door and reached around to switch on the lights. Everything seemed to be as he had left it except for more cleats in the ceiling and lower area of the wall. On his tool cabinet counter he noticed locks, chains, ball gags, handcuffs and several pairs of leather cuffs.
'God knows what he had planned for me,' Bobby thought. 'Fun and games to amuse the master? Those days are hopefully over.'
He grabbed Scott's ankle and quickly pulled him into the garage and over to the cleat-embedded wall. Bobby knew from his karate training that Scott would be unconscious for another five minutes...tops. From the counter he selected enough restraints to keep his brother occupied and bound until later. The final touch was a ball he shoved into Scott's drooling mouth and strapped around his head. 'Bye-bye for now, asshole,' Bobby thought while he surveyed his chain, cuff and lock-ensconced sibling.
Bobby grabbed more handcuffs, turned off the light and closed the garage door. He rushed to the dining room to a diminutive, crumpled man who was holding his stomach and groaning. Before speaking, he took one pair of handcuffs and secured Master Trey's ankles. When Bobby clasped and locked another pair of cuffs to the master's wrists, there was an immediate awakening and stirring.
"Oh, my god, what happened?" Master Trey asked with a moan and eyes half-opened.
"Let me move you to a more comfortable position and we can talk." Bobby effortlessly scooped up Master Trey and took him to the living room. Gently he laid the small man on the couch.
Master Trey's eyes popped open widely when he realized that he was immobile. "Wait, I remember. Your drunken master assaulted me...yes; I thought he was going to hurt me seriously. You must have come to my rescue. But why, slave, am I being treated this way?" he asked, raising his arms that were secured together at the wrists. "I want to be released immediately. Do you hear me?" Master trey barked.
"First, that was my drunken brother that clocked you. And you are correct about me saving your ass. Second, let's set the record straight. From this moment on, I am not a slave and I'm rejoining society as a rightful free man. Got it?"
"Nonsense. Let me go," Master Trey ordered with less authority.
"Read my lips...I am not a slave. Now we can either discuss this as gentlemen or find a less friendly arena." Bobby made sure that his offer was non-negotiable.
"But what about the training? Your ma...Scott said that you wanted this relationship." Master Trey frowned and stared at Bobby. "I was facilitating what I was told had been some sort of deal that you two made."
"Deal? What kind of fucking deal is it when a person is kidnapped and forced into a whacko slave role against his will? You, Sir, did me a great injustice." Bobby exaggerated the volume when he said 'Sir'.
"Against your will? I thought it had all been arranged and staged as some sort of fantasy."
"Fantasy? To be abducted and tortured in the middle of bum-fuck Georgia. No, Sir. You were involved in a kidnapping of an innocent man who didn't want to have anything to do with that shit," Bobby said with balanced conviction. He stared at Trey and watched the older man digest what he had just learned.
"Um, ah, I guess an apology is a little weak, but I am sorry for the misunderstanding. Scott basically lied to me. By the way, where is that bastard. He's going to answer to me for the attack."
"Don't worry about Scott. He's in the garage and very secure. Why don't I get you a glass of water and call Marcus? He needs to come into town and help us sort this all out."
"Yes, that would be wise. Ah, do we have to use restraints on me, err, young man?"
"They don't look too uncomfortable and although you're a guest in my house we need to get an understanding about certain things, first. By the way, my name is Bobby."
"Well, then, I'll call you Bobby and you may call me Trey. I guess I can wait until Marcus arrives to get out of these cuffs. Although, they do bring back a few kinky memories," Trey said with a low chuckle.
Bobby went to the kitchen, got a bottle of Evian from the fridge and returned to the living room. Along the way he grabbed the cordless phone. He propped up Trey with an extra pillow, opened the water bottle and placed it in Trey's hands. "What number can I use to call Marcus?"
"The hot line that is always answered live is, 630-555-1617."
Bobby sat down in a side chair, dialed the number and listened. The call was answered in three rings.
** "Yes, Sir. This is Marcus."
"Marcus, Sir, I'm calling on behalf of your master. There's been a little scuffle between Scott and him. Would it be convenient for you to drive into Chicago and help out in resolving some issues?"
** "Issues? What happened? Is Master Trey alright?"
"Master Trey is fine if a little winded. Let him tell you for himself." Bobby stood, walked over to Trey and covered the mouthpiece of the phone. "I can trust you to give Marcus an assurance that everything's okay here? No reason to alarm your young man."
Trey signaled agreement and waited for the phone to be placed next to his ear and mouth. "Marcus, there has been an altercation and I would like to have you here to help out with the situation. Oh, drive the SUV. Stay on the line so you can be given directions." He nodded and eased back onto the pillows.
Bobby told Marcus the best way to get to the town house and decided that it'd probably be around 10:00 p.m. before they would rendezvous.
"Oh, tell Marcus to call the Black King of Spades and ask him to meet us in Hinsdale around midnight," Trey said with an evil smile. "That is, if it's okay with you, Bobby."
"Did you hear that, Marcus?"
** "I'll call him on my cell. See you in a while...Bobby."
"Why don't you close your eyes and get some rest. I'm going to check up on my other guest. If you like opera, I've got a killer CD of Aida. It's the re-master of the Leontyne Price and Jon Vickers recording."
"Ah, with Sir Georg Solti...I'm familiar with that marvelous performance. Yes, please. As for you, Bobby, I think this Solti recording will be a more mellow experience?" Trey shrugged and winked.
"Trey, I think we're going to get along just fine. Give me a few minutes. After I check up on Scott, I guess I should put on some clothes."
"Tell that drunken ingrate that he hasn't heard the last from me. I have special plans for him to seriously re-think what he did tonight."
"We can talk about that. Part of me wants to call the authorities and have him tossed into the indenture system for his crimes. The other part of me wants Scott to find the submissive man he really is. Maybe he could go back to school for a while?" Bobby asked with a raised eyebrow.
"I'm sure that we can come to an agreement that will be fair and equitable," Trey replied with a deep chuckle.
TO BE CONTINUED