Date: Fri, 03 May 2002 23:50:05 -0700
From: Ken V <kenv483@hotmail.com>
Subject: Starlight Slasher

The usual stuff applies. If you don't like men having sex with men, then
don't read this.


*****


This is a true story that occurred eight and a half years ago. The names
have been changed, but the events are exactly as the happened.


*****


I had gone over to my Mom's house to take my nieces Trick or Treating with
my sister. It was a comfortable night to be out on the streets and a thin
jacket was perfect. We had been out for about an hour and a half when I
decided I needed to go to the bathroom pretty soon. I told the family I
would see them at home and parted company about five blocks away from the
house. I made it back to the house and took care of my business. I decided I
would catch up with Mom, Julie and the girls. As I was leaving, I saw some
movement by the neighbor's car. I figured I should probably check it out. I
quietly crept over the driveway. In the space between the neighbor's car and
SUV, there was a shape huddled down, working a knife into the neighbor's
tire. There had been a rash of tire slashings since summer had begun. "Could
this be the one?" I thought. I had the element of surprise, so I crept up
behind the figure and grabbed it by the shoulder. As it jumped up, I slammed
it down into the hood of Mrs. McGreavy's car. I grabbed its arm and pinned
it behind his back, making the figure yelp in pain. I could tell it was boy
and he sounded young to me, but I still could not see his face. He had on
the Scream ghoul's costume, so his face was covered. I did a quick frisk of
the pinned boy and pulled out a small metal box, flask, a pack of
cigarettes, a lighter and his wallet. I opened the box and found a couple of
joints and a roach clamped into a clip. One whiff of the mouth of the very
ornate flask and I could tell this one liked whiskey. I dropped the box,
flask, cigarettes and lighter into my coat packet, zipping it shut. "Let's
see who we have here," I said as I finally, I opened the wallet. The
driver's license was right on top. Tipping the wallet towards the light, I
could finally make out the name: Justin Hargesson. "Hargesson? Hargesson?" I
said to myself. I knew I had heard that name before. Suddenly it hit me this
kid's father was the football coach at the local college. He was one mean
mother and I was sure he would not like the idea of his son being the
"Starlight Slasher" as the papers had dubbed him. I released my grip on the
boy's arm and let him up.

He immediately tried to run off. "Justin," I called after him, "do you
really think your father would like to find out what you have been up to?" I
said this last piece, as I pulled the switchblade out of the tire, using my
coat to protect the evidence. I carefully closed the blade and slid it into
my pocket along with the wallet. The kid returned slowly to where I stood in
between the vehicles, and at that point, I knew I had him between a rock and
a hard spot.

"Take off the mask," I ordered. Slowly, he pulled the face off and slid the
hood off of his head. I was barely able to maintain my composure. His
driver's license picture had not done him justice. The boy before was
absolutely amazing. He had light blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and
perfectly chiseled features. I had never seen anything more beautiful in my
life. I waited a moment, "I asked you a question. What do you think your
father would do if he knew what you were up to."

"I really don't give a fucking shit!" he snapped back.

My hand flew out and had smacked him across his mouth before he had a chance
to register what was happening. "You will watch your language and will not
talk to me that way. Do you understand."

I saw a quick look of fear in his eyes as he replied "yes sir."

"Good, now answer my question correctly."

"He would probably kill me." His reply was less hostile this time.

"Then it seems we have bad situation here Justin. Come with me." We moved
away from the driveway, into the shadows of a nearby fruitless mulberry
tree. "It appears young man that I have caught the person that has been
slashing tires in this town for the past five months. In addition to being
caught red-handed, he was found to be caring illegal drugs, cigarettes and
alcohol, none of which he is old enough for."

"I will be eighteen in a week and a half," he quickly spat out, "then I will
be legal to at least smoke."

"But not drink and do drugs."

"My father would never believe you."

"Excuse me?" I asked surprised, "I have a several items with your finger
prints on them. The flask is engraved with the letter 'H' and looks like it
has been around for some time. Plus, I have your wallet. What more would he
need?" The boy licked his lips and his eyes quickly looked around for help.
The realization of what was happening must have set in, as he slowly lowered
his head, casting his eyes to the ground. At this point, I knew I had him
and had him good. "Now, I have a couple of options. I can go the police or
call your father. But there is one more option." His head shot up and there
was a look of eager anticipation on his face. "You can earn your silence by
doing some favors."

The smile faded and a suspicious look covered his face. "What do you mean?"

"It's quite simple, really, you will come and tend to my yards, clean my
house, clean the pool, whatever I may need. In exchange, I will "forget"
what I know and will pay you a small amount so your parents think you
actually have a job. In essence, you will be my slave and I will help keep
your indiscretions from your parents."

"How long do I have to be your slave?" he asked. There was a hint of fear in
his voice.

"Until I feel that you have had sufficient punishment."

"Well, I guess I don't have a choice."

"No Justin, you really don't. Let's lay a few ground rules. First, I am the
boss, you do not tell me 'no'. If I ask for it to be done, you will do it.
You argue with me or refuse, we start the clock over again. Period. Second,
you will refer to me as 'Sir'. Third, you will come when I request it. You
will not hesitate or brush me off, I don't care what else you have going on.
I think that's enough for now. Do you have any questions?"

"Uh. no," he replied.

My hand shot up again and smacked his face.

"What the fuck was that for?" he snapped.

I smacked him again. "You will address me as sir and you will not use that
language."

Remembering the rules, he cast his eyes down again and said "yes sir."

"Is your number listed in the phone book?"

"Yes sir."

"Good, I will call in about a week. I will tell your parents you answered an
ad I had posted at the high school asking for a young man to attend to my
yards and such. Do you understand."

"Yes sir."

"Good, now get out of here and know that I will be calling you."

"Yes sir," he replied, the relief obvious in his voice. He ran off and I
watched him go. Even under the shapeless costume, I could tell his body was
as beautiful as his face. If he only knew what he was in store for. I
trotted over to my car and dropped my coat in the trunk, its contents were
now more important than my keeping warm. Just as I shut the trunk, I saw the
four girls coming from up the street. Justin must have run right by them. I
ducked up onto the porch and into the house before they saw me.


*****


As promised, I called the Hargesson's house about a week later, eight days
to be exact. Mrs. Hargesson answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this the Hargesson residence?"

"Yes it is, who's calling?"

"My name is Neal Baxter. I had posted a job ad at the high school and I
believe your son, Justin, answered the ad."

"Justin did?" She was obviously surprised.

"Yes, he did. It's not much, just yard work and pool maintenance, but he
seemed eager for the work. I was hoping I could speak with him to discuss
his first day."

"Certainly, let me get him." She left the line and I heard her call him. In
the background, I could hear his muffled voice, but was unable to hear what
he said. She told him Mr. Baxter was on the phone. Again he said something
and she replied with 'about the yard job."

Just a few seconds had passed before I heard his voice on the end of the
phone. "Yes Mr. Baxter sir." He managed to the work 'sir' in. Good boy.

"I was hoping you would be available this Saturday to start your new job."

"What time would you want me sir."

"Why don't we start at 9:00 AM, that will give us a chance to review your
duties."

"My birthday is Friday night, and my folks are having a big party for me
Saturday night, will I be finished in time sir."

"What time is your party?"

"7:30."

"Yeah, we'll have you out of here by then."

A note of happiness crept into his voice as he said, "thank you sir."

"Let me give you directions," I said as I gave him directions to my house.

He thanked me again and we ended the call. I had a few days to prepare.
First, I used my home copier to make a copy of everything I had taken off of
the boy. I emptied his wallet onto the glass, making sure to get every
little detail. There was a picture of his girlfriend, behind which he had
hidden a condom. I also used my Polaroid to take a picture. It couldn't hurt
to have both. I tucked one set of each into the safe on the floor of my den
closet. Next, I wrote up an agreement for Justin and I to sign. In it was
noted that he was the Starlight Slasher and that he would never do it again.
It discussed how we met and what our agreement was for our silence. I also
included a list of items I pulled off of him and placed a line next to each
so he could initial each one. Finally, I left a space for him to sign.


*****


Saturday morning rolled around. I was nervous, but confident that my plan
would work. He arrived at 8:59 AM. "Prompt, good, I like that."

I opened the door and there stood Justin. He was wearing loose fitting
shorts and a tee shirt. Now that he was out of the costume, I could see he
had broad shoulders and a smaller waist, like a swimmer. I am 6'1" and he
was about two inches shorter.

"Good morning Justin."

"Good morning sir."

"Come in and follow me." I lead him to the kitchen table. I had the contract
sitting in front of chair, the pen lying across it. "Do you want something
to drink."

"Uh, water is fine, thank you sir."

"Sit down there and sign those documents. There also several places for you
to initial, do not miss any." By the time I had filled a glass with ice and
poured water from the fridge, he had completed the contract. "Are you sure
you read that boy?"

"I scanned it sir," he replied. He was obviously as nervous about this as I
was. I knew they were for different reasons though.

"Do you want to read it?"

"Well, I really don't have a choice, so what's the point?"

"Excuse me!"

"What's the point sir."

"That's better. But watch your mouth none the less. Just to make sure, I
want to summarize what this says." I said, waving the documents under his
nose. "You are my slave until such time that I feel you have atoned for your
actions and paid for my silence. During that time, you will take care of my
every whim. Whatever I ask you to take care of, you will. Whatever I ask you
to do, you'll do it. Whenever I ask you to do something, you will jump at
the opportunity to make me happy. Got it?"

"Yes sir." His eyes had pooled and he was trying very hard not to cry.
Freshly eighteen and I had already brought him to tears.

"Now follow me." He followed me out the front door. I told him what I
expected to be done. Lawn mowed and edged, trees and shrubs trimmed, weeds
pulled and gutter and walkway swept. He memorized every little detail,
asking questions and verifying the instructions I had given him. We went
through the side gate and into the rear yard. As we rounded the corner of
the house, he groaned. My lot was deceptive, as my house was not centered on
the lot. The backyard was at least four times larger than the front, plus
there was the pool and patio. I showed him where all of the tools were kept,
the gas can for the lawn mower and the edger, the garbage bags, and pool
supplies. He clearly looked overwhelmed. "Do you have any questions boy?"

"No sir."

"Good, get to work. Start in the front and work your way to the back."

He jumped right to it and had completed the front yard within two hours. He
moved to the back and quickly took care of the lawn. Our area stays warm
until mid-November, and this day was no exception. Sweat stains had appeared
on his shirt and the damp material had begun to cling to his body. As he
worked, he would pull the material away from his chest, only to have cling
as soon as it was dropped. Finally, he pulled his shirt off. Now, it was my
turn to groan. The more I saw, the more I liked him. While he had a
swimmer's build, he was surprisingly muscular, already touting a small
six-pack. Quite a vision for such a young age.

About 12:30, I carried a tray out to the patio and called him over. "You
have been working so hard, I thought you had earned a break," I said as I
set the tray on the table. "Have a seat." I indicated the chair next to
mine.

He sat down and quickly drank down the glass of lemonade I had set before
him. I filled it again and said, "maybe you should slow down a little bit.
You could get a cramp. Here." I placed a plate next to the lemonade. It had
two sandwiches, chips, a bunch of grapes and a banana.

"Thank you Mr. Baxter sir." He hungrily wolfed it down and finished the
second lemonade.

"Are you full?"

"Yeah, uh, yes sir, but I would like another glass of lemonade."

I poured him the glass and he settled back a little bit to rest. "It is hot
out here, isn't it?"

"Yes sir, it is."

"If you keep going at this pace, you will be done early. If that is the
case, you can take a dip in the pool to cool off."

"Oh." he said showing his surprise, "thank you sir, but I didn't bring a
swimsuit."

"Well, you have two choices then, you can either borrow one of my spares or
go skinny dipping."

His eyes got wide, again showing his surprise. "Thank you sir" Gulping down
his lemonade, he went back to work.

I carried the tray and sat down in the family room, where I had a clear view
to the activity in the backyard. The boy was dedicated, I had to say that.
He worked non-stop from the time he finished lunch until I decided to stop
him at 4:00.

"He was in the very back of the yard, cramming some trimmings into a garbage
bag. I caught his attention and said, "why don't you finish up there and we
can call it."

"Yes sir," he replied and was soon putting everything away.

"Would you prefer a suit or to swim in the buff."

"I would prefer a swimsuit sir."

"Come with me," I ordered and he followed me down the side of the house and
into the garage. I opened a cupboard and dug through some clothes that were
in there, pulling out a white Speedo swimsuit. I handed the swimsuit over to
him and he looked at it uncomfortably. "Uh, I don't wear this kind of suit
sir."

"Well, you do now. Put it on." He started to walk past me towards the house.
"Where are you going?" I snapped.

"To go change sir."

"You are filthy. I am not letting you in the house. You will change right
here." That look I had come to know appeared on his face. He was scared at
the latest corner our relationship had rounded. "Hurry up!" I snapped at
him.

"Yes sir." And with that, he started to slowly undress, leaving his clothes
in a pile on the floor of the garage. When he got to his boxers, he modestly
turned around. He pulled them down at what seemed to be an excruciatingly
slow pace. But it was worth the wait. He displayed the most perfect ass I
had ever seen. It was extremely muscular and had those concaves on either
side that everyone loves. He had light golden hair on his ass and muscular
legs. Pulling the skimpy white suit up, he turned around and modestly
covered his crotch.

I chuckled and told him to follow me. I could hear his feet padding on the
cement as we crossed the patio. "Go ahead."

"Thank you sir." He trotted over the edge and dove in. He stayed under for a
while and shot up out of the water. His tan body against the white suit was
a sight to behold. He swam for about an hour and then climbed out.

Dripping, he padded over to the table where I sat. "Excuse me sir, do you
have a towel I can borrow?"

"You really don't need one today," I replied with a wry grin on my face. You
can sit here and dry in the sun. I took my legs from the chair in front of
me and he took the seat. As soon as his butt hit the chair, he covered his
crotch again.

"Is there a reason you keep hiding behind you hands like that?"

"I'm just not comfortable dressed like this sir."

"Well, you better get used to it. From now on, when you are working in my
back yard or house, this will be your uniform. You will not cover up or hide
yourself. So, I repeat, get used to it."

"But sir.."

"Are you arguing with me boy?"

"No sir." The pools in his eyes had returned and a small rivulet leaked out
of his right eye and down his cheek.

"Stop that," I snapped, "you are eighteen years old. Far too old to be
crying like a baby."

Both eyes were leaking now, but he managed to shake his head up and down,
"Yes sir."

"You look dry enough. Why don't you get dressed and head on home. I will
expect you next Saturday at the same time. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir."


*****


Justin arrived at the same time the following weekend. I told him the front
yard was fine, adding that he should finish the back yard.

He went out the garage door. A few minutes later he came back in the house.
I was reading the paper and he stood by quietly until I spoke to him. "What
do you need boy?"

"Excuse me sir, I need my um, uniform."

"You remembered, very good." I pulled the small white swimsuit from my
pocket and handed it to him.

"Should I change in the garage again sir?"

"No, you can change right there."

That uncomfortable look flashed across his face, but to his credit, he
didn't argue. He removed his clothes as he had the previous week, but when
he turned to remove his boxers, I stopped him. "Don't turn around." I
ordered. It was then that I noticed that his eyes had become pools again.

"Yes sir," he replied as he slid them off of his hips. To my surprise, he
was a true blonde. The light golden hair on his ass continued around to the
front. He had a well-defined treasure trail that led down to a thick bush.
He was well built down there as well. His flaccid cock hung five inches from
the front of his body. Behind it hung two apricot-sized balls.

"You're a front runner." I commented.

"Pardon sir," he sniffled.

"Some men have cocks that come from the bottom of the their groin, but yours
comes off of the front of your body." He didn't reply as he pulled the
swimsuit up his legs.

"Can I go do my chores now sir?"

To his credit, he had not covered himself. I assumed there was no reason
now. "Yes, go ahead."

He worked as dedicatedly as he had the previous weekend. He came back in the
house. By this time, I was working on my computer and had been engrossed in
reading a web-site I found. As before, he stood next to me and waited until
he had been acknowledged. Out of the corner of my eye, I could tell he was
still not covering himself. "Good," I thought.

"Yes boy?"

"I'm done with the yard and the pool sir."

"Really, let's take a look." True to his word and to my surprise, he had
finished the entire yard and the pool. "Very nice Justin!" This brought a
smile to his face. "Why don't we call it for today. Go ahead and take a
dip."

"Thank you sir," he beamed. He ran and leapt into the pool, splashing
happily.


*****


The third weekend, he arrived as promptly as before. Once in my family room,
he immediately began to undress, without being told to do so. I was amused
by his pluckiness and allowed him to finish stripping before I spoke. "Why
don't I show you what I want done in here." I indicated he should follow me.

"Excuse me sir," he stopped me, "I need my uniform."

"You are wearing today's uniform." He looked shocked and scared at the same
time. "Come on," I ordered.

I showed him the rest of the house. I wanted the floors mopped, the carpets
vacuumed and the bathrooms cleaned. I figured that would keep him busy for a
while. A few hours later, he approached me in the den again. "Yes boy?"

"I am done sir." He was still naked and as I rose, I noticed he had a small
drop of precum on the head of his cock. I checked his work and found he had
done exactly as I requested.

"You did very well, Justin!"

"Thank you sir."

"Let's go in the family room." He followed me down the hall and into the
family room. I sat on the couch and like the good boy he was becoming; he
stood before me waiting for his next order. "Today, we see how much you want
to atone for the damage and heart-ache you caused all of those people." That
nervous look crept across his face. "I want a blow job Justin and you are
going to give me one. Now."

The nervous look turned into shock and then disgust. "I'm not going to
fucking blow you, you faggot!"

Before he could react, I had sprung from the couch and smacked his mouth
several times. "Excuse me boy!" I snapped at him. The few inches I had over
him paid off at this moment.

"I don't like guys. I'm not a fag sir."

"I don't remember asking you what you liked or didn't like and I don't care
if you are into guys or not. Right now, I want a blowjob. You have already
erased all of the good work you have done with your outburst. Do you really
want me to go to your father?"

The pools had formed and started running over the edges of his eyes. "But
I'm not gay."

"To bad," I replied, as I pushed him to his knees. Returning to my seat on
the couch, I motioned to him. Sobbing, he crawled over in between my legs.
"Take it out Justin." With trembling hands, he untied my shorts and slid
them off of my hips. I kicked them off of my ankles and pulled off my shirt.
We were now naked. Me, at 28 and Justin, my beautiful slave boy, at a very
fresh eighteen.

He was still sobbing as I put a little pressure on the back of his head.
"Lick it," I encouraged him. A few more moments passed and he finally opened
his mouth. His tongue darted out and licked the head of my cock. "That's it
baby," I continued to offer encouragement. He licked the shaft a few times
and then wrapped his mouth around the head. His mouth was warm and moist. I
could feel his trembling body against my legs. I applied more pressure to
his head and forced him down a bit more. He got half of my cock in his mouth
and started to gag. I allowed him to ease off a bit, but held his head in
place. He started bobbing and picked up his pace. He worked on me for a
while. Finally, I felt my nuts pull up. I knew it was time. I held his head
in place and fired into the back of his throat. He started thrashing and
tried to pull off. I pumped into his mouth a few more times and then
released the grip on his head. Glancing at the clock, I saw he had been
taking care of me for almost half an hour. During that entire time, he had
not stopped crying. Now, the torrents of tears were stronger.

"What's wrong Justin? You did very well." He said nothing, just shook his
head up and down and cried. "Oops, there's a drop you need to get. He took
my cock in his hand and licked the drop from the slit.

"Come here." He stood and climbed up on the couch. After some maneuvering, I
had him sitting next to me, but with his back to my outer thigh. I pulled
him back and held his face between my hands. "Justin, you have taken the
first step to making me truly forget about the Slasher. You did wonderful
for the first time. You know that, don't you?"

My question was answered with nodding and tears. "Then stop your crying
boy." I pulled his mouth to mine and gently kissed him. He did not return
the kiss at first and then must have thought better of upsetting me again.
He opened his mouth and returned my kiss. His nervous probing soon grew more
frantic. It seemed his was getting in to this.

"Come on." I stood and took his hand and led him down the hall to my
bedroom. "Lay down." I told him and he did. I climbed up on top of him and
we continued to make out. I rolled us to our sides and let my hands wander
his backside. I felt him stir against my groin. My hands found his ass and I
slid a finger in between those beautiful mounds of muscle. He tensed at
first and then loosened up again. I pushed the finger against his hole and
he whimpered. I pulled my finger out and ran it over his lips. He opened his
mouth and I slid it in to get it wet. Then I returned it to his hole and
slid it in. I could feel the tears running down his face and hear him
whimpering louder. I slid a second finger into him and he cried out. I
worked them around and then rolled him back onto his back. His tears had
stopped but he still looked scared. I reached into the drawer in my
nightstand and pulled out a tube of KY-Jelly.

He took one look at the tube and cried, "Please sir, please don't, don't."

"Justin, it's time for you to pay the piper." I had finished greasing my rod
and slid a greasy finger into his hole.

"Please, anything but that, please sir."

I leaned down and kissed him again. When I pulled away, I positioned my head
against his hole and staring directly into his eyes, pushed in. He cried out
in pain and I stopped, waiting a minute for him to get used to the invasion.
Then I slowly pushed in a little more at a time. After several minutes, he
had taken all eight inches and my pubes rubbed against his ass. I had never
felt anyone as tight as this boy. It was as if he was milking the cum out of
me. I leaned down to kiss him again. I gently kissed his ears and neck. At
the same time, I started pumping. He moaned again, but I noticed his cock
was getting hard as well. At full capacity, he had risen to a nice nine
inches. He was bigger than I was, go figure. I started pumping harder into
his ass. He moaned and begged that I stop. I ignored his pleas and continued
my attack. Soon, I was hammering into his ass. He was moaning, but it had
taken on a different tone. He almost sounded like he was enjoying it. I
worked him for close to an hour. The whole time, he stayed hard and erect.

"I'm cumming sir," he cried out.

"So am I Justin," I replied back as we hit a simultaneous orgasm. His load
sprayed across his chest and onto his face. I left my diminishing cock in
his ass and started fingering up his cum. I slid each fingerful into his
mouse. Until every drop was gone and my cock pulled out of his hole with a
pop.

"Well, what did you think boy?"

"It hurt at first, but then it kind of felt good." It was obvious he had
been crying, but he had stopped.

"A few more times, and it won't hurt at all."

"We're going to do that again?" He asked carefully.

"Every time you are here," I replied as I pulled him to his feet. "Let's get
cleaned up." I said, dragging him to the shower.


*****


By the time the New Year had come, Justin had become a well-trained slave.
He knew my likes and dislikes and kept me very sexually satisfied. One day
in April, we were in the family room. I was sitting on the ottoman and
Justin had mounted himself on my lap. We had a great rhythm going and Justin
was riding me like a mad man.

He leaned back and over his well-defined chest I saw the worse possible
sight. Justin's father was standing at the sliding glass door, watching his
son impale himself on my cock. Justin tipped his head back seconds later and
saw the same sight. He leapt off of me and grabbed his boxers from the floor
and slid them over his hips. By this time, his father had started away from
the window. Justin ran out the back door and called to his Dad. His father
refused to stop. He put his hand on his father's arm and tried to turn him
around.

"Dad, please, let me explain," he begged.

His father spun on his heels and slammed a fist into his son's face. Justin
flew back and sprawled on the patio. "Is this what you have been up to? This
man has been paying you for sex? That makes you a whore Justin, a whore. And
not just a whore, but a faggot too."

"Dad, please, let me explain," he begged again.

"No. There is no excuse. I'm done with you. Don't come home. Faggots are not
welcome there. As far as I am concerned, my son is dead." He turned and
marched out of the yard.

Justin lay crying on the ground. I went over and tried to help him to his
feet. He pulled away and jumped up by himself. "This is all your fault," he
spat.

"And how is that Justin?" I asked.

"You blackmailed me into having sex with you and now look what happened." He
ran into the house and by the time I caught up with him, he had almost
completely dressed. "Well Dad knows, so you got nothing over me anymore
buddy." Before I could reply, he ran out the front door.


*****


A few weeks passed and I had not seen Justin. One night, there was a knock
at the back door. I opened the curtain and there was Justin. Bruised, cut-up
and naked. I opened the door and said, "What do you want Justin."

"I'm sorry, but I have no where else to go. I tried to go back to my house,
but my Dad threw me out the same way I came into this world. Naked. I tried
to get some friends to help me, but Dad took care of that. I have no
friends. They won't help a faggot. They wouldn't even give me a blanket. It
has taken me over a week to get to your house. I had to move at night, when
no one would see me. Please sir, help me."

My beautiful boy looked so pathetic standing there. I finally let him in and
took him to the bathroom. I had him clean up and then I dressed his wounds.
During the course of taking of him, he told me more about what had happened.
He had gone home and waited for his Dad to get home from work. When his Dad
came in, he tried to talk to him. The coach was so angry, that he slammed
Justin back eight feet into a wall. Next thing Justin knew, his father was
literally ripping the clothes from his body. Then he dragged him over to the
door and threw him out. He had grabbed his cell phone and used it to try and
reach some friends. In the course of one day, his father had called all of
their friends and told them about Justin's penchant for cock. When Justin
called them, he either got some deriding remark or just heard the phone
slammed in his ear. Waiting for nightfall, he crept from bush to bush, house
to house, until he made it to the grocery store. He was able to scrounge
some food from the dumpster and was able to survive for a few days until he
figured out what to do. He realized he had no where else to turn and began
working his way over to my house.

"And you expect me to take you back Justin?"

"Please sir," he asked, "I'm really sorry about what I said, and I realized,
that I think I love you. I want to be with you."

His admission came as a surprise to me. I had pictured lust and a lot of
humping, but never love. "Justin, I'm not sure what to say. I liked having a
slave. I don't know if I want a lover."

"Please, I'll do anything sir. Anything you say."

"Let me think on it and we can talk about it in the morning.

Later that night, I was jostled awake by Justin sliding into the bed next to
me. He slid up next to me, pushing his butt towards my crotch so that we
were spooning. I pretended not to notice, but was secretly glad he had
joined me.

By the next morning, I had determined that I did want Justin in my life, but
that he need to be punished for his behavior. I entered the kitchen to the
smells of a wonderful breakfast. He wore an apron and nothing else, making
me life. He looked somewhat comical. We ate a pleasant breakfast.
Afterwards, he cleared the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen.

He came into the family room, where I was reading the paper. He stood
expectantly in front of me, waiting for my instruction. I made him squirm a
bit before I spoke to him. "Justin, I have decided that I would like having
a slave around again." A broad smile spread across his face. I waited and
then added, "but I do feel that you need to be punished for your behavior
the last time you were here." His expectant smile fading into a concerned
look. "Go in the bedroom and get my belt off of the dresser."

He started to say something, but stopped and went off to fetch the belt.
When he returned, I had him position himself over the ottoman that helped
start his troubles. "Now, I want you to count the lashes as they fall. Do
you understand?"

"Yes sir."

The belt sailed through the air and landed heavily on his ass. "One. Thank
you sir." He was going to the hilt today. Immediately, a red welt appeared.
I gave him seventeen more: one for each day that had passed before he
apologized.

He was crying by the time I had finished. I scooped him into my arms. "Thank
you for taking me back sir." He leaned over to kiss me and I began to
harden. He smiled and started to undo my pants.


*****


Seven years have passed since that day. Justin and I are still together.
Master and Slave. Lovers. Mentor and Student. Take your pick, they are all
the same to us. Someday, I will have to tell you about the revenge we took
on his father.


*****


Let me know what you think: kenv483@hotmail.com