Max H. firstname.lastname@example.org
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 "The Slave," in the Authoritarian section, is a far better story than mine.
* * *
Sam woke up to find himself spooned up against the Master's back. He carefully lifted his head so he could see the bedside clock, which said 5:30.
Good, he didn't need to get up yet. He could lie there and enjoy the warmth of the younger body next to him.
It had been eight months since he'd been abducted and enslaved. His son, Matt, was no longer a regular member of the household. Conti had sent him back to the university when fall classes began and was paying his room, board, and tuition besides giving him a spending allowance. Matt came home for a weekend about once a month. When he did so, he slept with the Master.
Sam was Conti's only other regular bed partner. He was called three or four times a week to shower, douche, and present himself at bedtime. He looked forward to those times, since he was still not allowed to masturbate, though the chastity cage had long since been removed. Conti knew that Sam wouldn't disobey by relieving himself. Sam had become an absolutely reliable, devoted slave.
As he lay there, he thought how content he was. He was fed and cared for. He didn't have to make any decisions – all of them were made for him. He didn't have to worry about Matt because his education was being provided and he was making excellent grades at the university.
There was no more paddling. Sam knew what was expected of him and carried out his responsibilities scrupulously. The Master had come to accept that Sam was loyal and trustworthy. In fact, Sam now took over the job of doing the twice-weekly grocery shopping. The cook gave him a list. Frank or Ben drove him to the upscale market Conti preferred where Sam bought the items on the list and paid for them with a debit card he'd been given. On those forays outside the house, he was allowed to dress in jeans and an appropriate shirt, plus a jacket if the weather dictated. But at home (and he had come to think of Conti's mansion as home) he still went naked.
It was now nearly 6:00. Sam rolled away from his bed partner, who promptly lay on his back. Being very careful not to shake the bed too much, Sam positioned himself between the spread legs of his Master. He took the erect penis in his hands and began to lick slowly from base to tip. The Master groaned, but did not open his eyes. The slave continued to lick the hard phallus slowly.
Then he felt a hand on his shaven head.
"Take it, Sam."
The slave knew that was his cue to swallow his Master's tool. He'd had months of practice, so he had no trouble taking it all, finding his nose buried in Conti's thick, black pubic hair.
"Mmmm. Nice, Sam." He rubbed the slave's head. Sam reveled in this favorable attention. His life had come to revolve around serving his master, giving him pleasure whenever possible, doing the best he could with each task assigned to him. He'd pretty much forgotten his former life. To tell the truth, he'd come to accept, to be comfortable with his new life. If he did what he was told as well as he could, there were no punishments. So his was a life of routine, regularity, predictability, but with no strain, no tension, no important decisions to make. Quite unlike being the dean of a university.
Conti no longer tried to humiliate his slave, formerly called "Turd." He was kind, sometimes almost affectionate. But both men knew that if Sam had failed to perform as expected, there would be consequences. It never crossed the mind of either that Sam would refuse to do what he was ordered to do.
As his head bobbed up and down on his Master's cock, it occurred to Sam that, even after all this time, he had no idea what Conti's first name was. He was to Sam simply Master Conti, a man Sam had come to think of as a benevolent master. Sam knew he belonged to Conti totally. Thoughts of his former life seldom occurred to him, and the idea that he might ever have any other kind of life occurred equally rarely.
A little while later Conti ejaculated into Sam's mouth. Sam dutifully – and sincerely – thanked his master for being allowed the gift of his cum.
"Now, you go and clean up while I'm having my shower." Conti didn't really need to say that, since that was the morning routine whenever Sam had been commanded to sleep with his Master. "Then bring me my breakfast. When you've finished your own, come into my office. I have news for you."
Sam worried throughout his shower and his subsequent breakfast. What kind of news could the Master have for him? Was he in trouble? Had he failed to perform to the Master's satisfaction? Was there a problem concerning Matt? He'd become so accustomed to the even tenor of each day in his new life that his heart was beating rapidly and his hands were sweating when he knocked on the door of the study.
"Ah, come in Sam. Sit down there," Conti said, gesturing toward a comfortable upholstered chair facing his desk."
Sam didn't know what to think. He'd never been asked to sit in the Master's presence before.
"Uh, Master, may I speak?"
"Of course you may. You know I got rid of that rule [don't speak without permission] months ago. What's on your mind?"
"I've never been allowed to sit in your presence. Are you sure that's what you want me to do?"
"Yes, dammit. Don't question my orders. I said sit, and I meant for you to sit."
Sam quickly sat. His naked butt was aware of the fabric on the chair. It was the first time he could remember sitting on an upholstered chair since he'd been enslaved.
"Now, Sam, I have a new job for you."
The slave bowed his head and said, "Yes, Master?"
"Yes. I think it's time to use your real talents."
Sam was puzzled, but he didn't say anything, waiting for Conti to continue.
"I have a business that seems to be in trouble. The main offices are in Coreopsis [a town about 35 miles away from the campus where Sam had been dean.]
Sam wondered what that had to do with him.
"I need that hard-nosed, tight-assed bastard you used to be to go in there and straighten things out. You were a martinet as a dean. I need you to be a martinet for me. But as a result of your training here, I expect you to have compassion. What you lacked as dean was the ability--or the desire--to distinguish between cases where you had to be tough and those where you needed to show some understanding."
Sam gulped. Was his Master kicking him out?
"You don't look happy, Sam. What's wrong? You don't want to help out with this problem?"
"Oh, Master, I will do anything you say, whatever you command. But leave here? I don't know whether I could go back into the world and perform up to your expectations."
Conti looked displeased. "Are you doubting my judgment?"
"Oh, no, Master. Of course I'll do whatever you tell me to."
"Look, Sam, you're a different man from the arrogant son of a bitch you were when we brought you here. A much better man, to my way of thinking."
Sam bowed his head. "I am your creature, Master."
"Okay. As my creature, you must get back into the world. I don't want you to spend your life bringing me my meals, doing the grocery shopping, and cleaning the house. It's time for you to use your talents, education, and training. But this time, as a part of my organization. There's no way, I'm afraid, [Conti grinned] that you can ever return to the academic world. But you can be useful in my world in a capacity more suited to your abilities."
Sam was torn. He'd become so accustomed to his life in the Conti mansion that he'd given up thinking about life anywhere else. But a long-buried spark rekindled at his Master's words. An administrative problem? He was to deal with it? It sounded interesting, though something within him was apprehensive as well.
"Whatever you wish, Master."
"Dammit, Sam, I hoped you'd be excited by this."
"I'm sorry, Master. If you think I can handle the problem, I'll be honored to try."
"I guess I shouldn't complain. I've made you subservient. I just hope I haven't ruined you as an administrator."
Sam said nothing. He forgot the rule that he should keep his head bowed and he looked steadily at Conti's face, trying to read his Master's emotions.
"I'm going to provide you with a condo in Coreopsis and you'll be paid a salary commensurate with what you were getting as dean. You'll be expected to spend your weekends here unless business dictates otherwise."
"Yes, Master." Sam's heart raced, but he had to ask: "Master, what about your, uh, well, uh, sexual needs?"
Conti laughed. "When you were dean, you never said `uh.' You've changed in many ways, Sam. Now, how shall I say this? You're a hot fuck. But you're getting older. I think I'm ready for some young ass. When you're here for weekends, you'll not only report to me on what's happening at work, but you'll be available if I want you in bed. And I will. But there's this arrogant young redheaded football player at the college who has some potential but who needs to be taken down a peg – or five. I think he'll become my newest slave."
Sam didn't know whether to be relieved or hurt. He knew not to say anything.
"Oh, and, Sam, don't worry about Matt. He's a free agent. The costs of his education have no strings attached. I think of him as almost a son. He will never have to sleep with me again unless he wants to. And he owes me nothing."
"You, on the other hand, remain my property. You're about to have more freedom than you've had since we took you, but you work for me. And that's the difference. You will work for me, and you will be answerable to me, and you will be more than adequately compensated for what you do. How does that sound?"
Sam wasn't sure what he should say.
"It's okay, Sam, you can answer honestly."
"In that case, Master, it sounds wonderful. Very generous. I just hope you will want me in your bed sometimes."
Conti laughed. "Count on it, Sam. Oh, and I think in light of your new status you had better let the hair on your head grow. But keep the rest of it shaved."
"Oh, by the way, from now on you can just call me `Boss.'"