Max H. email@example.com
This story involves sex between men. If you shouldn't be reading such things, move on.
The characters in this fantasy may not always practice safe sex. In the world we live in everyone should practice safe sex.
It's okay to print this story out or save it to disc, but it remains my property. Don't transfer it to another website or archive without my permission.
This story is for Tom W, whose "Slave to Love" currently appearing in the Authoritarian section, is a far better story than mine.
>From Chapter 2:
Matt says to Turd, "Okay, get on the bed with your head down and your ass up. You won't believe it right now, but you're gonna like this."
Turd didn't think so. He did as he was told, but he was determined he was not going to like it. He'd endured being captured, made a slave, shaved, and forced to suck three men's dicks. But they couldn't make him like this. It was queer. Besides, he was sure it would hurt. Even though he'd had a butt plug forced up his ass several times, he knew how big his anus was and how big Matt's cock was when erect. It was bound to tear him apart. This was definitely not something he was going to enjoy.
As he waited for Matt to do whatever it was he was doing, his ass still on fire from the paddling he'd received, he thought one more time how far he'd sunk in just a few days.
There were many things he'd been taught as a boy growing up that he no longer believed, religious things mostly. But this faggoty stuff was just wrong. It was sick, perverted, unnatural.
When Matt got onto the bed behind him, Turd steeled himself. He'd been told to put his head down on the bed, so he was afraid to look back to see what Matt was doing for fear of being struck again on his still-smarting butt. The next thing he felt was hands caressing his burning buttocks. Matt was running his hands gently and soothingly over the tender flesh. Turd began to relax. He knew what was coming, but he'd been given a momentary respite, and he found himself enjoying Matt's touch on his fevered ass.
Feeling the bed shift a bit, he next registered a very different sensation. What was happening? His brain told him what was happening, but he couldn't believe it. A wet tongue was licking his butt cheeks, and it felt amazing! His mind was telling him it was gross, but his ass was loving it.
He felt Matt's hands pull his cheeks apart. Then the tongue that had been licking his globes made long laps from his perineum to the top of his cleft. As it passed over his most private place, he lurched.
"Easy, Turd. You haven't felt anything yet."
Turd felt like purring, but he remembered how sick all this was, so he renewed his determination to hate what Matt was doing to him.
Then he squealed through the dildo gag in his mouth. Matt had begun to tickle his anus with the tip of his tongue.
"I can't call you a bastard or a son of a bitch because I really loved Grandma," Matt said. "But you are a tight-assed fuckin' piece of shit. You practically threw me out of the house when I came out to you. You yelled at me about what a sick, perverted faggot I was and how I'd disgraced the family name and embarrassed you. Now look at you! You're squealing like a sow in heat just because I'm rimming you. What is it they say about not condemning someone until you've walked in his shoes? Let's see how you like the rest of this."
He leaned forward and began to use his tongue on his father's pucker, tickling and probing. As the muscle relaxed, he stuck his tongue into the orifice. Again Turd was struck by the contrast between what he thought he ought to feel and what he was feeling. But he couldn't not enjoy the sensations emanating from his nether opening.
"Pay attention to what I'm doing, asshole. This is supposed to be a `learning experience,' to use one of your favorite terms. You'll be doing this a lot, you know. First to me, and then to Ben and Frank, and, when you're good enough, to Master."
Turd hadn't thought of that. Despite the extreme pleasure he was feeling, he was quite sure he didn't want to do that to anyone else. By this time Matt was practically fucking Turd's asshole with his tongue, and Turd found rational thought more and more difficult.
He was brought back to reality when the tongue was removed from his anus. He felt the bed shift, as if Matt had sat back on his heels.
"Pull your ass cheeks apart, old man!"
That was the unkindest cut of all. Turd had never thought of himself as an old man. After all, he did work out regularly in addition to his morning runs. He began to realize that Matt was very bitter about being rejected and sent to another university after his coming out. Perhaps, Turd thought, he should have been more understanding.
He jumped when he felt something cold against his anus. Matt was rubbing something, lube apparently, against his hole. The muscle, which had momentarily tightened up when the cold lubricant had hit it, relaxed again as Matt rubbed his finger over the pucker. Again, Turd felt like purring.
He tensed up briefly when a finger was inserted into his chute, but it really didn't hurt. His doctor's finger had never felt so good on his annual prostate exams. Matt did it gently, wiggling his finger around a little as he slowly inserted it. The doctor's finger had never felt especially good, but when Matt's finger began to rub his prostate, Turd involuntarily shoved his ass toward the invading digit, as if to ask for more.
And that's what he got. Matt gradually worked a second finger into the hole, being careful to keep massaging Turd's button. Without volition, Turd began to moan. He'd never felt anything like that before, and it was the best sensation he'd ever experienced except for actually ejaculating. He began to wiggle his butt, trying to make incredible feelings even better.
"Careful, there, asshole. You're wiggling around like a slut boy. I wish the Board of Trustees of the college could see their dean now. They'd be grossed out, wouldn't they, to see how much you love having your ass fingered? Of course, most of those tight-assed bastards would like it if they'd just give it a try." Matt withdrew his fingers, leaving Turd feeling empty and deprived. He began to grunt and gyrate his ass, hoping that Matt would put his fingers back where they'd been.
Matt obliged. He re-inserted first one, then two, and then three fingers. The third finger caused Turd some discomfort, but Matt didn't move them for a minute or two. Then he slowly began to spread the fingers apart, scissoring them, to stretch the muscle. Turd found the experience fascinating and not unpleasant. Soon he was enjoying having Matt's fingers moving around inside him, especially when one of them grazed his prostate. He was aware that his cock was hard and dripping precum.
`Ohmygod,' he thought, `I'm enjoying this. And that's so sick!' Sick or not, he wanted more. Then he realized what that meant. Turd was eager to have Matt's cock up his ass. He wanted to beg the boy to fuck him, but he knew he wasn't allowed to speak. Besides, the gag made speech impossible. Then he heard Matt chuckling.
"You really are getting into this. You're sucking on that dildo like a baby on a tit. You've got drool running down your face. I think maybe you're a closet queer, Turd. And that also makes you a world-class hypocrite, doesn't it? You're such a sorry fuck!"
Again the magic fingers were removed.
"Turn over on your back, Tuuuurrrdd!" The slave cringed at the way Matt had drawn out the ugly name, but he rolled over.
"Now, pull your knees back toward your shoulders. I wanna watch your face as I do this. You are about to lose your cherry. You are about to participate in the gayest thing there is, old man. And you remember what I said before about rimming you? I said you were gonna love it. And you did, didn't ya? Well, you're gonna love this, too. And when I'm done, you're gonna want another cock up your ass. And while all this is going on, I want you to remember all those things you said to me about how filthy and sick and perverted it is to be gay!"
As Turd watched between his legs while the boy rubbed lubricant all over his hard cock, he was thinking about Matt's behavior. Obviously the boy was bitter about the treatment he'd received from his father. Despite that bitterness, however, he was capable of being slow and gentle in his preparing Turd to be fucked. Turd, who was still nervous at the thought of that big cock going into his anus, however loosened up it was, expected great pain.
Matt got into position, put his father's legs against his shoulders, and put the tip of his cock against his pucker. Turd clenched his jaw. And nothing happened.
"I'll be honest with you, Tuuuurrrdd, part of me wants to jamb my cock into you and power fuck you. I'd love to have you scream in pain. But Master wants you to learn to like it. Besides, when you know how great it can be, maybe you'll actually be ashamed of how you treated me. So, just relax."
Matt did what he promised. He used lots of lube and he took ten minutes getting his cock all the way into Turd. When his shaved pubic area was resting against the other man's buttocks, he waited so that Turd could adjust to the feeling. Then he began to pull out, slowly. Turd, who felt full but had experienced only some very tolerable pain, relaxed. As Matt worked his cock slowly in and out, there was an almost pleasurable burning. Still, Turd didn't know what all the fuss was about. Then the boy shifted his position, and his cock began to slide along Turd's prostate.
The resultant yelp caused Matt to chuckle. "Yeah, you like that, old man, don't ya?"
Turd, who'd never felt anything like that before, nodded his head and said "Mmm hmmm" around the dildo-gag, on which he was furiously sucking.
Soon Turd was moving eagerly to meet Matt's thrusts, fully into being ass-fucked for the first time.
Matt maintained his slow pace for ten minutes or so. Conti probably knew what he was doing by allowing Matt to come earlier that day. They boy was, after all, only 19, and the recuperative powers of his sperm-producers were great. Eventually, however, Matt began to sweat and to pick up the pace of his strokes. Although he couldn't speak, Turd was grunting in encouragement. When Matt finally exploded in his father's ass, both men screamed, though Turd's was muffled somewhat by his gag.
When Matt had recovered himself a bit, he grinned down at the spent man beneath him. "How'd ya like that, Tuurrrd?"
The words that came to Turd's mind were those of Blanche DuBois: "I never dreamed a mere physical experience could be so stimulating."
Matt withdrew and wiped his dick with a damp wash cloth. Then he removed the dildo gag from Turd's mouth.
"You have permission to tell me how you liked that."
Turd felt empty and found himself wishing Matt would put his cock back where it had been. "Matt, that was incredible. Please do it again."
"I should punish you for not calling me Sir. And I won't be doing it again tonight, but your lesson isn't over just yet."
While Turd was lying there, trying to come to terms with the incredible and unexpected pleasure he'd just felt, Matt shoved a medium-sized butt plug up his ass.
Then he got Turd up and led him back to the big room, bent him over the padded horse and secured his hands and feet. Turd was thus bent over, ass exposed. At that point Frank and Ben came in. Both men were wearing only jeans and tee shirts. Matt stood aside.
"We flipped a coin," Ben said, "and I get sloppy seconds."
"Shit, man," Frank said. "I've never fucked a Ph.D. before, so I'll be glad to take thirds. Especially since this one's such a bastard." Then he looked at Matt and asked, "How'd he like it?"
Matt grinned. "Oh, he liked it, sir!"
"Well, Ben," Frank said, "see how he likes that big fat sausage of yours."
First Ben and then Frank fucked Turd, and they made no effort to be gentle. Soon, though his ass had been loosened up by Matt, the older slave was screaming.
When both men had finished with him, Matt led him back to the bathroom, where he gave him another enema, and then they both showered. After they were dried off, Matt took Turd to the bedroom, where he put some leather mitts on Turd's hands.
"You don't have to sleep in the cell any more unless you do something bad. Tonight you can sleep in this bed. The mitts are to keep you from jacking off. Don't even think about trying to escape. You'll be locked in. And, as you can see, there are no windows."
"May I ask a question, sir?"
"Where are you going?"
"Master wants me tonight. I'll come and get you for breakfast."
As he lay in bed that night, Turd found himself with a throbbing erection as he remembered being rimmed, fingered and fucked. His hole was a little sore, and he felt empty, but he felt good, too. He felt sad that he'd been missing out on so much pleasure, and he felt guilty about the way he had treated his son. Most of all, however, he felt horny. He wanted to masturbate, but the mitts made that impossible. Finally, he thought of lying on his stomach and humping the bed. He hadn't been doing that very long, however, when Ben and Frank came into the room.
"That's a no-no, cocksucker. You come only when you're given permission. You knew you weren't supposed to do that. Slave Matt told you what the mitts were for."
They fastened a sort of cage over his genitals, leaving the mitts in place as well.
"Now, you ain't gonna like the feeling when you get a hardon. And there's no way you can make yourself come with that baby in place. Pleasant dreams, Turd!"
A frustrated and miserable Turd finally got some sleep. When he woke up, his cock was once more erect, and he found out how true were Ben's words about the discomfort of having an erection while wearing the chastity device.
Days passed, and the routine remained in place. Turd and Matt exercised together and did household and yard chores together. Turd's training continued as well. He learned to rim first Matt, then Frank and Ben. He was also made to lick and suck on the nipples of all three men. Both slaves were paddled each evening. And they were required to keep themselves shaved smooth everywhere.
The two were also required to perform as servers when Conti had meetings or social gatherings at the house. For "business" meetings the two were dressed in black shirts, black slacks, and sandals without socks. Their job was to pass drinks or snacks. Those present never commented about them or their slave status. They simply ignored them, except for to take a drink or hors d'oeuvre from a tray or put a glass back on a tray as one of them passed by. It was as if they were invisible to the master's guests.
After a week or so Conti had a party in the evening. For that, the two slaves were naked except for gold lame thongs. This was a different crowd, and the two were subject to having their bodies pinched and stroked and caressed all evening. Both men soon had erections, their cocks sticking up out of the thongs and oozing precum.
Matt told Turd that the business meetings took place about twice a month, and that so far as he knew the social evenings were much less frequent.
Most days there were no business meetings, no social evenings, so they seemed to merge into each other. Turd found he didn't know how long he'd been there. After what he guessed might have been a week, he was told by Matt that something special was about to happen.
"Tonight, Turd, you're going to have a test to see what you've learned about giving a man pleasure."
Though Turd knew better than to say anything, he looked expectantly at Matt.
"If you're good, you might even get to come."
Turd's cock began to stiffen, and he smiled.
"Yeah, yeah, I know you're horny," Matt said, grinning. "But remember, I said `if you're good.'"
Only once since he'd been there had Turd been able to come, and that was an uncontrollable ejaculation while he was being fucked by Matt. The younger man had hit Turd's prostate so often Turd couldn't help himself. He wasn't punished, but his training after that included a greater emphasis on being able to refrain from ejaculation, regardless of the stimulation he was receiving.
That night after their routine paddling, they were allowed to douche and shower. While they were showering, Matt explained that they would spend the night together, and that Turd was to pretend that Matt was the master. He was to do whatever Matt required.
"Sir," Turd asked, "am I allowed to talk tonight?"
"Yes, unless I don't like what you're saying. Then I'll gag you. Understood?"
When they finished in the shower, Matt commanded Turd to dry him. Turd did so, gently, carefully. When he was finished, Matt took a towel and, equally gently, dried the other slave.
"You, see, Turd, even something as routine as drying after a shower can be a pleasant experience if two men do it together."
Matt surprised Turd by putting his arm around the older man's shoulder as they walked toward the bed. Turd felt comforted by the gesture, almost happy.
After they were lying down, Matt wrapped his arms around Turd, so that Turd's head was resting on his chest. They stayed that way for a while. Turd wondered whether Conti would ever do anything like that when they were together, but he was enjoying the closeness, the warm feelings, so he forgot all thoughts of the master. He fell into a kind of reverie, thinking of how proud he was of Matt to be handling their enslavement so well. He was amazed that the boy he corrected himself young man could be so strong that he could command or submit as necessary. He felt desperately guilty, too, for what he had done to Matt. He wanted to make it up to his son, but he couldn't think of any way to do so as long as they were enslaved. Then he realized that tonight there was an opportunity to begin.
"Sir, may I call you Matt for tonight."
"No, Turd," Matt whispered. "There are cameras. All of this is being recorded. You have to call me `Sir' tonight."
"Yes, sir. Sir?"
"May I kiss you?"
Matt looked surprised. "Yes, you may."
Turd began by lightly kissing his son's forehead, cheeks, and eyelids. He was startled when the boy pulled their mouths together, but he didn't waste the opportunity. The two kissed with passion. Turd realized that it was the most exciting kiss he'd ever had. From that moment on, what transpired between the two men was love making, and both of them understood what it was.
Turd sucked and licked Matt's nipples, chest, abs, feet, legs, balls, and cock. He rimmed his son so that the younger man was cooing with pleasure. Then he took lube which Matt had left on the bedside table and lubed his ass.
"May I put some of this on your cock, Sir?"
Turd had been fucked by Matt, Ben, and Frank so many times, plus having a dildo shoved up his ass regularly, that he was able to take Matt's engorged cock without any discomfort.
"Oh, yeah, sir. That feels so good. Please fuck me!" His own penis was as large and as hard as Matt's, but he wasn't thinking about it just then. He only knew he wanted his son to have pleasure and that being fucked by Matt would give pleasure to both of them. It was a small recompense for what he'd done, but it was a start.
As Matt pumped in and out, Turd began to moan and turn his head from side to side, clearly zoned out from the electric things that were happening in his ass. Later, after Matt had exploded in his father's gut, he collapsed, panting, on Turd, who was also panting.
"Sir, thank you! I hope you enjoyed that."
Matt rolled off and lay on his back beside his still prone partner. "Yeah, Turd, I did. You're a pretty good fuck."
"Thank you, sir."
"You didn't come, did you?"
"Roll over on your back."
When Turd did as commanded, his hard dick was pointing toward his head, but standing up away from his belly. Matt positioned himself between his father's spread legs and began to lick his balls. Soon Turd was moaning with pleasure.
"Oh, god, sir, that's incredible. But I'm supposed to be making you feel good."
Matt quit licking long enough to say, "Shut up and enjoy. Besides, as you'll learn, this is pleasant for the licker as well as the lickee?"
Soon Matt was licking and sucking the older man's rigid, leaking cock. But not for very long. It had been a week since he'd come, so Turd, remembering his place on the hierarchy, said, "Oh, god, sir, I'm gonna come!"
"Good boy for telling me, Turd. It's okay. Shoot your load!"
Matt began once more to lick and suck on Turd's tool. He didn't take it into his throat, but he continued to keep it in his mouth and work on it. Moments later Turd blasted a week's worth of cum into his son's mouth.
"Oh, god, I love you, Matt!"
"I doubt that. Most guys would say they loved anyone who got them off after a week's abstinence. And you'll get extra licks with the paddle tonight for calling me Matt."
Matt spent the next two nights with the Master. On the evening of the third day, he came to Turd and said, "Okay, it's exam time. The Master wants you tonight."
Turd had learned that he was the lowest member of the household hierarchy and that he was not to speak without permission, so he said nothing, waiting for Matt to continue.
"He may want you to wash him in the shower. You and I haven't done that, and I'll probably be in deep shit if he finds out I haven't taught you how to do it. Just be sure he enjoys it! And another thing. Despite anything I may have said to you earlier, it's key for both of us for you to give him a good time tonight. If you fuck up, it makes me look bad. I've spent most of my life trying to please you, but you never had time for me. At least when I please the Master he'll sometimes kiss me or give me a pat on the ass. If it wouldn't be too goddamned much trouble, try to make him happy so he'll think I did a good job of training you. If he's unhappy with me, believe me, I can make you unhappy."
Turd felt guilty, ashamed that his son had these feelings, so it was easy for him to stand in his mandated position, hands clasped behind his back, head down.
He was stupefied when he felt Matt cup his balls. The younger slave leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "Now, dad, go win one for our team!"
As he looked at Matt with surprise, he thought he saw a slight crinkle around the boy's eyes.
After showering and douching (twice) he stood outside the door of Conti's suite. He'd been in it before only to change the bed linens and bath towels and to clean the room. He couldn't think when he'd been more frightened. Certain not since he was a child. Aware of the many changes in his life since he'd been brought to the Master's household, he was less concerned about being a naked slave for a former student than he was about pleasing this man who had taken over his life and his son's life.
Like a schoolboy summoned to the principal's office, he took a deep breath, gulped, and knocked softly on the door.
Turd stepped inside, closed the door, and stood, eyes toward the floor, hands behind his back.
"Come here," Conti said softly. "Let's have a look at you."
Eyes down, Turd approached his master.
"Look at me. Put your hands at your side."
Turd did as he was told.
Conti put his hands on the top of the slave's head, rubbing softly, almost caressingly. He felt the slave's shoulders, pecs, abs, ribs, waist, all very gently. Turd was astonished to find this very erotic. His cock began to plump.
"Turn around." When Turd did so, Conti began to run his hands over the slave's back, working gradually down. He stroked Turd's buttocks.
"Bend over and spread your cheeks."
He spent a moment looking at Turd's pucker, but he didn't touch it. "Nice," he said.
"You look good, Turd. Your upper body workouts are making a difference already. Your body is looking more like Matt's. I'm thinking a facial moisturizer might be a good idea. After all, I want you two to look like a matched set, and he does have beautiful skin, doesn't he?"
Turd hadn't thought about Matt's skin, but he realized what Conti said was true. "Yes, Master."
"You and Matt have been giving each other pleasure, haven't you?" Conti, of course, knew just about everything that had gone on between father and son. He had even watched some of it on closed-circuit tv. But he wanted Turd to admit that they had.
"Have you really learned to enjoy it, Turd?"
"Turd, I want an honest answer. Never lie to me."
"Honestly, Master, I have had pleasures I never dreamed were possible with Matt."
"What about with Frank and Ben?"
"What did I just say?"
"Never to lie."
"Then go ahead."
"Sometimes when they're, uh, inside me, their penises will hit my prostate, and that feels good. But when they're doing that, it's all about their pleasure, about getting themselves off. And they seem to want to humiliate me in the process. So it isn't anything like doing it with Matt. He told me that his job was to make me understand how good man-to-man sex could be, and he has done that."
"So what do you expect of this evening?"
Turd returned his eyes to the floor. "I want to please you, Master."
Conti laughed softly. "Good answer. I take it that whether you enjoy it or not is a matter of what I do and what I make you do?"
"Whether I enjoy it or not is not the issue, is it, Master? My job is to please you."
"Okay. I think we understand each other. But you need to remember something. Your training isn't over. I want you to want and need me as your primary sex partner. If you do your best to please me, I won't be trying to punish or humiliate you."
Turd wondered whether having the Master as his "primary sex partner" meant that he wouldn't be able to make love with Matt, but he didn't think he should ask at that point.
"Undress me, Turd. Slowly. And look at me while you are doing it. Look at my body. Think what you might do to give me pleasure."
Turd paid close attention to each part of Conti's body as it was exposed. The Master obviously worked out. He had a fit, toned body, not overly muscled. Although he had black, wavy hair on his head and by this time in the evening prominent five o'clock shadow, his body was smooth, except for his treasure trail and pubes. Turd realized with shock that he must keep himself shaved. By the time Conti stood naked before him, Turd had a full erection.
"Now, let's go into the shower. I want you to wash me."
Turd gently and thoroughly lathered and rubbed his Master from top to toe, then shampooed the man's thick black hair. Remembering what Matt had told him, he did everything he could to make it a pleasant experience. He was hesitant at first about the nipples, but when he lingered on them with his soapy hands, the Master smiled and nodded. He did the same with the Master's genitals and ass, taking just a little longer with them without overtly playing with them.
After the shower, Turd carefully dried Conti with the thickest white towels he'd ever seen. He was surprised when Conti took a fresh towel and dried him with the same care and gentleness.
"Well done. Now take my hand and let's go see how else we can give each other pleasure."
Stunned by Conti's approach, Turd allowed himself to be led to the bedside, his penis erect and already oozing precum.
Turd's fears were soon dispelled. It turned out to be a night of slow, gentle sex. Conti expected to be fondled, stroked, rimmed, and eventually sucked. But he did all of those things to his neophyte lover, too. The only difference between what each did and received, in fact, was that Conti fucked Turd. And Turd found himself loving it. He couldn't believe that this demon could be so gentle, so concerned for his pleasure. And, though his few couplings with Matt had been special, he knew he would look forward to being in bed with the Master whenever he was wanted. At least as long as the Master was in this kind of a mood.
After their sex session, Turd was allowed to sleep with the Master, who spooned up behind him, his cock nestled in Turd's crack, his arm over Turd's chest. Sometime after it became light, Turd was fucked again, this time a bit more perfunctorily, but without any hint of pain or humiliation.
The two showered together again while Turd polished his skills at bathing his Master.
"You've done well for your first time, Turd. Matt has trained you well. But the man you used to be would never have been able to do what you've done. I think, though you are my slave, you are a better man. At least I sensed that what you were doing for me wasn't done primarily out of fear, was it?"
Turd was surprised to realize that it hadn't been. He wanted to return kindness with kindness, gentleness with gentleness. He had truly wanted to do whatever he could to make his Master feel good.
Conti must have seen something in the slave's face. "Ha! I'm right. Tell me."
Turd couldn't help smiling. "Yes, Master. It wasn't fear. I really wanted to make you happy."
"I'll want you back here again soon. But for the next three days it is imperative that you not come. Nor Matt. I'm going to have to use Fritz, I'm afraid. Be sure to put on your cock cage, and make sure that Matt wears his. You're going to make your public debut Saturday night."
He slapped Turd on the rump and said, "Now, get your breakfast and go about your duties."
"Yes, Master. And, Master, may I?"
"Thank you, Master."
"There's hope for you, Turd. You're welcome. Now, go."
When the two slaves were doing household chores, they were allowed to talk, although Matt had tended to be pretty uncommunicative. Turd knew not to call his son by name, so whenever he wanted to as a question or make a comment, he always addressed the boy as "Sir."
He'd been wanting to say something for several days but hadn't quite gotten up the nerve to do so. After his night with the Master, however, he felt more confident. He also felt a greater urgency to say something to his son.
"Sir, may I say something."
"Yeah, go ahead, Turd," Matt said, continuing to polish silverware.
"Please, this is important. Will you look at me?"
Matt put down the knife and the polishing cloth and looked at Turd. "Go ahead."
"I just want you to know that I'm really sorry."
Matt looked puzzled. "Sorry?"
"Yes, about this, about everything. I know now I was a terrible father. Not just when you came out to me, but all the time you were growing up."
"Holy fuck!" The younger slave looked and sounded very boyish when he said that. He cleared his throat, composed his face, and said, "Continue."
"I know you must hate me, and I deserve it. I just want you to know that if we ever get out of this, uh, situation, I'll do my best to make it up to you."
"You think saying that will make things easier on you while you're here?"
"No, I know better than that. But I've come to admire you. The way you're handling all this. I've learned a lot from you in the short time we've been together. I just want you to know that I love you and that I'm deeply sorry. I hope some day you'll be able to forgive me."
"We'd better get back to work." Matt picked up the knife and resumed polishing it. Turd went back to work on the silver bowl he'd been polishing.
"There's just one more thing," Turd said, grinning at the boy.'
"Yeah. It's a good thing I didn't know about the pleasures of gay sex when I was your age."
"Okay, I'll bite. Why?"
"Because you'd never have been born."
Matt grinned. "Don't make me get a hard on, old man. You know how uncomfortable a stiffie is in these cages."
In his study, Conti turned away from the monitor and smiled.
That Saturday was like any other Saturday until about 9:00 P.M. when Matt told Turd to shower and shave himself down. He left some clothes for the older slave to put on. As it turned out, they were to dress identically. But first, they had to insert into each other rather large butt plugs. The effect was almost instant, as both men became partly hard.
They had been given skimpy white nylon running shorts which were cut to hang low on their hips, just barely above the crack in back, low enough in front to suggest that their pubes were shaved. They were also given black sleeveless cut-off tee shirts with holes in front so that the men's be-ringed nipples were exposed. They were told to wear their black sandals. And, of course, their collars.
Turd got a glint in his eye.
"Permission to speak, sir?"
"Yeah, go ahead."
"You look absolutely shameful and sexy as hell."
Matt snickered. "Might say the same about you, dauh, that is, Turd."
Matt got a call on the house phone to come to the garage. There they waited beside a Mercedes limo. Very soon Conti showed up with Frank and Ben. All three were wearing dress slacks and expensive-looking sports shirts. Conti's clothing was obviously tailor made. Ben attached silver chains to the collars of both slaves. They all got into the car. Frank drove, with Ben beside him in the front. Conti sat in the back with the two slaves kneeling on the floor.
About 10:00 the limo pulled up to the curb in front of what appeared to be an upscale bar. They all got out, Frank handing the keys to a sexy valet who looked like he might be a college student. His costume wasn't much less slutty than the ones Matt and Turd were wearing.
Conti entered first, holding the chains of the slaves, who walked behind him, heads down, hands at their sides. The movement of the car and their butt plugs had resulted in erections for both of them. Their skimpy shorts were strained by the boners they couldn't possibly hide.
Ben and Frank followed. A fiftyish man wearing a black suit came over and fawned over Conti, welcoming him to the establishment, making a fuss over finding a table.
"For five, sir, or three?"
"Three will do, thanks, Paul."
Conti, Frank, and Ben were seated at a table. The two slaves were told to kneel on either side of the master. As the two henchmen sat with their boss and drank beer, Conti had a glass of red wine, which he nursed, Turd noted, for the whole evening. For the next hour, as they listened to the music and watched the people on the dance floor, a procession of men of all ages came over, apparently to pay homage to Conti. Turd concluded that his Master was either very popular or very influential. But Conti was charming; he stood to shake hands with most of them, engaging in pleasant conversation, asking about their partners, their jobs, in some cases their health. He patted some on the back or put an arm around the shoulder of others.
He also had a quiet conversation with Paul, who was apparently the owner or manager of the establishment.
At 11:30, the music stopped. Over the P.A. system Paul said,
"Gentlemen, let me have your attention, please. We are honored this evening by the presence of a very special guest. He has brought two of his, uh, protgs with him this evening. We are going to be able to get a look at them."
Meanwhile, Frank was whispering to Matt and Turd what they were expected to do.
"Gentlemen, Matt and Turd," Paul said over the P.A. "At first you might think this matched set is a pair of brothers. Actually, they are father and son."
The two slaves stood. Holding hands, their erections obscenely obvious, they walked to the small stage and stood in the middle of it, where they were hit by a spotlight. There was immediate applause and some catcalls.
A slow, sultry version of Cole Porter's "You Do Something to Me" began to play softly on the music system.
The two men on the stage put their arms around each other and began to kiss. As they kissed, they began to hump their cocks against each other. After a few minutes of that, they turned so that both were facing the audience. While continuing to kiss, they showed the audience the spots caused by precum in the front of their shorts. Then they faced each other again and resumed grinding their cocks together.
The music switched to something more intense and elemental than the Porter, something a good deal louder, too, and both the kissing and the humping of cocks became more feverish.
Soon the slightly taller of the slaves, the one careful observers had figured out had to be the son, interrupted the rhythm of their pelvic movements, threw his head back, and shuddered. The other man pulled the boy's face against his neck and continued humping, but only for a moment. Then he, too, had an orgasm. The music faded out, and the two slaves stood there, holding each other, panting. It seemed to take a minute for them to realize where they were. They turned to face the audience, both looking more triumphant than ashamed, to reveal the large, glistening, wet areas in the fronts of their shorts. The cum had caused the white nylon to become practically transparent, enough so that it was apparent that neither had any pubic hair.
The applause was thunderous as the two men bowed and then walked hand in hand, eyes to the floor, back to where Conti and his henchmen were sitting. Conti stood, attached the chains to their collars, and led them toward the door.
Before they reached the door, a young man, perhaps a college student, came over to the group. He spoke directly to Turd.
"Hey, man, aren't you Dean Lichfield from the university?"
Turd looked at Conti.
"Tell him who you are."
"My name is Turd. I exist to make Master Conti happy."
"Holy shit!" the young man said as Conti and his group went outside to their waiting limo.
Back home, after the slaves had removed their clothing and showered, Ben came to say that Conti wanted to see them.
They were relieved that he was smiling when they came to him.
"You two are truly beautiful. I'm pleased with you both. Matt, you have trained your student well. Turd, I have something for you. Come here."
Turd approached the Master, eyes down.
"Look at me."
Turd did so.
Conti took off Turd's collar and handed it to Frank, who put another collar in his hand.
"This collar is just like your old collar, except where the old one said `Turd,' this one says `Sam.'" He fastened it around the slave's neck.
Sam knelt, took Conti's hand, and kissed it.
"I'm going to give you two tonight to rest up. Put on your cock cages. Tomorrow night you will both to sleep with me."