Date: Sun, 18 Mar 2012 14:25:40 -0700 (PDT) From: jdr Subject: With a Flip of a Coin Jeff and Sam were as alike as like can be. They had known one another since forever, growing up in the same small Wyoming town in the same grade from kindergarten on. Both had blond hair and fair skin. Jeff's eyes were blue while Sam's were hazel, changing between green and blue. They were best friends from the day they met. All the way through grade school and high school, they hung out together. When they hit puberty together they set up some weights and a bench in Jeff's family's barn, where they worked out shirtless and filled out their frames with hard lean muscle. Both enjoyed sports in their small town and always played on the same teams, from Little League and Pop Warner right on through their senior year at the state tournaments. Jeff was the quarterback and Sam his favorite receiver. Sam was an outfielder and Jeff was the first baseman. Both played forward on the basketball team. There was never any sense of competition between them or any need for one to outdo the other. Instead, each was always there for the other, urging one another on to do their best. Jeff's family owned a ranch outside of town and did well enough that he didn't have to work except for daily chores. Sam's family owned a store in town and did well, too. Besides being good in sports, both made pretty good grades and were accepted automatically into the University of Wyoming. It took no thought for them to agree to room together all four years, renting out the basement of a house in Laramie and moving in the August after high school graduation. The place had its own entrance, two bedrooms, a bathroom with a shower and a large center room that included the kitchen and living room. It was close enough to campus for them to walk or skateboard to class in nice weather and bicycle to school and back the rest of the year. The heating system worked well, allowing them to stay shirtless and barefoot even on the coldest days. Being on their own for the first time, and both just turned eighteen, they were tempted by all the parties. Early on they decided not to give in to it. They kept one another serious about their studies and broke the monotony by being workout buddies at Half Acre Gym. There Sam heard some talk about the Colonel and mentioned it to his friend. "Who's that?" asked Jeff as he bench pressed the bar. "Who's who?" replied Sam as he spotted for his roommate. "The Colonel," said Jeff as he exhaled while extending his arms upward, his biceps flexing hard. "Oh," said Sam, "just some guy I heard someone talking about. Apparently, he's quite a character and a bit scary." Jeff finished his set, settled the bar into the rests with Sam's help and then swung up and around to sit on the side of the weight bench. "Scary how so?" he asked. "Well, they say he's a former Army officer, a Vietnam veteran and really tough, more mentally tough than physically. He's an old guy, in his sixties, but he specializes in testing college guys by breaking them down and forcing them to submit to him." "Who the hell would want to do that?" asked Jeff. "Wouldn't a guy already know how tough he is without getting together with that Colonel dude?" "That's just the point," replied Sam. "The Colonel only accepts the toughest guys. He challenges them to outlast him. From what I hear, so far no one has." "Hmm" said Jeff. "This sounds like one of your dares coming. Remind me not to listen to it," he said with a knowing grin. "Damn, bro," Sam laughed. "You know me too well. I was thinking we should try it out and see what happens." "You mean the two of us let this old guy try to break us together, Sam?" "Nah, from what I hear he doesn't work on more than one guy at a time. If two guys show up, he picks one to be broken and then trains the other guy to take charge of the broken dude." Sam traded places with Jeff, his back on the bench as he lifted through his last bench press set. "Take charge for how long?" asked Jeff as he spotted for his friend. "I dunno," said Sam as he exhaled on the upstroke, "I guess until the guy in charge gets tired of it or something." "So let me see if I understand this," said Jeff. "You want us to go see this old geezer and one of us submits to him until he's either broken or not, correct?" "Correct." "And if the Colonel succeeds in breaking one of us, then what?" Sam finished his set, his face sweating and turning red as he concentrated on the burn. Then he pulled up to a sitting position, stood up and turned to Jeff with a grin. "Then the other guy takes charge of him for the rest of the school year. That's the dare. Are you in or not?" "Hell, Sam, you know I never turn down a dare. Just be careful what you wish for." A few blocks away, the Colonel was working at home. After Infantry OCS and two Vietnam tours he stayed in the Army, made full colonel and then took retirement. He spent another twenty years keeping himself in shape both physically and financially. He had known, long before the Army and certainly long before the Internet, that he was born to dominate other men. Over the years he perfected his techniques until he had it all down to a science and an art. He deliberately selected Laramie as his home because of the presence of both the University and a large vocational school in the town of thirty thousand. It was small enough to get the word around and big enough for concealment . The Colonel had no need for a live-in slave boy but he kept several of his former trainees on call as needed. To him, the act of taking and breaking was the name of the game. If he admitted to a need beyond that, he would have to say that he wanted a protege, a junior Master to mentor and train correctly. For some time the Colonel had entertained a theory about Doms and subs. Experience showed him that some men were born to dominate or submit. For everyone else, he felt that any man lacking strong traits one way or the other could be made into a slave or a Master. He only had to find the right lab rats for his experiment. He was therefore both surprised and not so surprised when he received an email that evening. It read: "Sir: We are two UW freshmen, roommates, best friends, straight, athletic, both eighteen years old, no experience but eager and curious. We have made a dare. We ask your permission to come visit you and have you select one of us for submission testing. If he survives the test, the other will submit to him for the rest of the school year. If you break him, he becomes the other's slave. Either way, we ask you to train the one in charge to be a true master and owner of a well-trained slave. If you are interested, please let us know when and where to meet you. Respectfully, two Wyoming boys" Attached was a picture. It showed two shirtless guys, each with his arm over the other's shoulder, smiling at the camera while wearing cowboy hats, boots and jeans. The Colonel was pleased. He thought for two minutes and then replied: "Wyo boys: Friday night, 1900, public library parking lot. Finish eating no later than 1730. No alcohol, weed, drugs or beating off until our meeting. Have no plans until Sunday morning. Be in one truck dressed just like in your pic with jockstraps on under your jeans. The Colonel" Sam's dick started getting hard when he saw the email come in. It only got harder as he read the message. "Hey, Jeff!" he yelled, "Come in here. I have something to show you!" Jeff dropped his English book, rushed out of his bedroom through the living room and into Sam's bedroom. There his best friend was grinning from ear to ear. "What you got?" he asked. "An email. From the Colonel. We're on for Friday, dude!" Jeff read the email and started grinning himself, his groin growing beneath his basketball shorts. This was it. No turning back. Neither Jeff nor Sam would ever go back on a dare. By sometime Saturday one would be enslaved to the other. Friday night could not come soon enough for the two eager curious freshmen. That afternoon after classes they put themselves through an especially heavy workout, starting on the climbing wall, then with free weights and ending with a swim. By the time they reached their basement home both were too tired to do anything but take a nap until time to eat. Then they sat on the couch, too wired to play video games or watch television or even talk. At five minutes before seven they wordlessly got up, walked out to Sam's pickup truck and got in. Sam drove to the library and parked in the empty lot. They did not have long to wait. Almost immediately another pickup truck pulled up beside Jeff's side. The driver rolled down his window. There was the Colonel: gray hair cut to military length, his firm muscled face shaved smooth, his eyes piercingly clear behind his glasses. "Follow me," he said, rolled his window back up, backed out of the parking place and headed south out of the lot. Sam drove right behind him until they arrived at an innocent looking house on a corner lot. The garage door was open. The Colonel drove inside, got out of his truck, walked out of the garage and pulled down the door. Without looking at the boys he walked to the front door, opened it, let them pass him and then shut and locked the door. So there they were: two shirtless cowboys in hats, jeans, rodeo belt buckles and boots. The Colonel gave them both a stern glance and then ordered "On my command, drop for pushups, twenty-five good ones, count them out loud with a SIR after each number. DROP." And they did, side by side, bobbing up and down in unison, shouting "One, SIR, Two, SIR," and so on all the way to twenty-five. "Recover," ordered the Colonel, and they both scrambled to their feet to obey, their faces slightly flushed and their chests pumped up by the exercise. "Do you both know why you are here?" the former officer asked. "Yes, Sir!" they both replied back. "Do you both agree to accept my decision on who gives in to whom?" "Yes, Sir!" "Then turn and look at each other." They did so, Jeff to Sam's left and then each facing his lifelong friend. "From this moment on, your relationship will change. Are you both ready for that?" asked the Colonel. This time the answers came out a bit softer and ragged: "Yes, Sir." The Colonel stepped up, standing fully clothed to Jeff's left and Sam's right. "Call me Colonel. Soon enough one of you will call me Sir while the other continues to call me Colonel." He pointed first to Jeff. "You, what's your first name?" "Jeff, Colonel." Then he pointed to Sam. 'What's your first name?" "Sam, Colonel." "Are you ready for my selection, Jeff and Sam?" "Yes, Colonel," they both said together. Then, to their surprise, the imposing Army officer thrust his right arm into the space between them, his fist closed with fingers up, then opened his hand to show a silver dollar nesting in his palm. "You," he said, pointing his chin to Jeff, "call it in the air, the winner gets to own the loser from now on." And with that, the coin flipped up and over rising to eye height and then dropping down to be caught. "Heads," said Jeff. And heads it was. Sam was stunned. From the start he had had some vague notion that he would wind up on top. It would be fun to mess around with Jeff, but nothing really serious, just some light hazing and maybe make Jeff keep the basement apartment clean for awhile. Never did he think that thing would get so serious, and certainly not with him risking his freedom on a coin toss. Before he could react, the Colonel stepped behind him, yanked his limp arms behind his back and snapped a pair of handcuffs on his wrists. "Shove your slave to his knees, Master Jeff," barked the Colonel. Jeff was as dazed as Sam but he reacted without thinking. He put his calloused hands on Sam's shoulders and pushed downward. Sam might have resisted if he had had time to think, but the Colonel's hands hit him behind his knees, buckling them and landing him on his kneecaps on the carpeted floor. Then Sam recovered his wits enough to say, "Jeff, I don't think ..." Whap! The Colonel?s open hand slapped Sam's right cheek hard, knocking his head to one side. Before he could respond, the Colonel snapped at Jeff. "Get out your cock, Master Jeff, and take charge of your slave." Without a word, Jeff unbuttoned his jeans, pulled his cock out of his jockstrap and stuck it out at his best friend in the world. Sam opened his mouth to protest only to have Jeff thrust his horn dog cock into its warm wet interior. Sam was stuck. He was shirtless, kneeling, handcuffed, his best bud's cock in his mouth all the way to the back of his throat. He struggled to pull back, only to have the Colonel shove one hand behind Sam's head while the other hand grabbed Jeff by the right wrist and pulled Jeff's hand to the back of Sam's head. Jeff quickly took the hint and crammed Sam's head up against his abs, then let it pull back, then rocked Sam's reluctant mouth back and forth upon his cock. God, it felt good! Before either guy got comfortable, the Colonel gave Jeff's bare chest a light push and said, "Back off, Master in Training. I have work to do and you need to leave. Be back at midnight." "Yes, Colonel," said the suddenly confident young man, who felt taller than before. "No drinking, weed, drugs or beating off until you return, Master Jeff." "Yes, Colonel." While the former officer was talking, he stuck a ball gag in the kneeling sub's mouth and fastened the leather straps behind his head. Jeff reached down, pulled Sam's truck keys out of Sam's right jeans pocket and left without another word.