Date: Sun, 12 Mar 2023 15:53:56 -0400
From: Robert Halstead <subkodak25@gmail.com>
Subject: Brandon's Bosses-40

THE ALEX SERIES, BOOK 3: "Brandon's Bosses"

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Chapter 40. Brandon's special weekend. Zeke and Oscar go shopping.

When time comes to leave for the retreat, Steven helps Brandon out of the
whipmaster's house and when the chauffeur opens the door of the limo,
Steven tells Brandon, "Slide in the back seat on your belly and just lie
there. That will be easier for you." "Thank You, Master," says Brandon,
still caught up a bit in his sobs and hiccups. Steven gets in the front
seat of the limo and they're off.

Unfortunately it is nighttime when they arrive at the retreat, so it isn't
possible to see the extraordinary view that will await Brandon in the
morning. Steven helps Brandon slide off the back seat and stand and then
helps him up the three steps to the door of the retreat house which is
indeed very small and compact. Most of the house is just one room like a
studio apartment. There is a desk area with an impressive array of computer
equipment, printer, etc. but Steven tells Brandon he won't be given the
pass code and the Internet is turned off. There is a single landline phone
on the table. The kitchen area is nice and well equipped. Steven opens the
freezer to show Brandon the meals available to defrost in the
microwave. The Chauffer brings in a small suitcase. Steven opens it to show
Brandon its contents: two journals, pens, a jar of his breakfast cereal, a
pair of track pants and t-shirt in case Brandon needs to be clothed to
cover over his marks and scars from the whipping if anyone comes by, but
that shouldn't be the case. Oh, and the bathroom is nicely done and all the
products Brandon needs are there. He opens the medicine cabinet but it is
empty. "What are you looking for?" Steven asks him. "Painkillers,"
Master. "No painkillers for you this weekend, slave. We wish you to feel
all the effects of the whipping so you'll be sure to avoid causing it to
happen again in the future." Brandon has to struggle not to make a face at
what Steven just told him.

There is a small closet and when Steven opens it Brandon can see that there
are sheets and towels. "Sleep on a sheet on the couch. It's very
comfortable," says Steven.

There are no other books in the house. "This is time for you to veg out,
think and write, not to read." He will not be allowed to keep his cell
phone anyway, but that's no matter. Since he's usually naked he usually
just leaves it at home, which he did today when Steven came to pick him
up. "One more thing," says Steven before leaving. "Kneel before me and take
out my cock so I can take a piss in your mouth."

Almost happily, Brandon reaches in and reverently takes out the Master's
cock and puts the tip in its mouth as it's been trained. Steven soon begins
to piss and Brandon gulps almost greedily. He has figured out that the
quicker he can swallow the piss, the less he has to taste it.

Once Brandon has cleaned the Master's cock as its been trained, without a
word Steven turns around and leaves the retreat house while Brandon is
still kneeling there. Shortly after that, the limo pulls away and Brandon
is left to his pain and his journals and his own devices. He goes to brush
his teeth and then checks the kitchen cabinet and finds tea bags, so fixes
himself a cup of tea and drinks it while standing, and then gets a sheet
for the couch and lies there on his belly, listening to the sounds of the
night in the wooded area, and crying for a while. Not because of the pain,
not because of the humiliation, not because he's left here all alone for
three whole days. He cries because he realizes that he really is a slave,
and that despite all the pain, part of him has been somewhat turned on by
everything that's happened and by the reality that this isn't the last time
he'll be whipped for a stupid mistake, and that idea also turns him
on. Dare he write that in the journal? Are they going to read it? What does
it matter, anyway?

He has trouble sleeping. The pain is still strong, more so than from other
types of punishments, so that keeps him awake a bit, and his mind keeps
going over some of the "highlights" of the evening: that time he was bound
and ready to be whipped, but had to keep waiting and the anticipation was
intense, the time he finally realized that the whip doesn't hurt as much as
he thought it would, actually no more than hard blows from a riding crop,
so he knew he could handle it, the odd feeling he had when he realized he
had lost count, and then that long awful wait while his shoulders started
to hurt like hell and the fires were burning across his flesh. It was sweet
the way Steven had him lie on his tummy in the limo, but he always thinks
Steven is sweet, even when he refuses him any painkillers (and that made
his inner slave really bow to the ground!), even when he leaves him
kneeling on the floor with the taste of piss in his mouth without even a
simple word good-bye, or good boy!

Then he starts thinking about Gary and really worries about him and
actually says a prayer that his parents aren't too brutal with him and that
he ends up coming to live with him and Michael. He dozes off at times, but
if he tries to move, the pain wakes him up again, and one time he actually
tried to turn over in his sleep unto his back and that REALLY woke him up
and then he couldn't get back to sleep.

He gets up and makes more tea. He brushes his teeth again to get the piss
burps out of his mouth (that's the worst part of drinking piss—the burps
when it all comes up again). He really wishes he could sit down, so tries
to do so gingerly on the pillow he was using to sleep with, and it doesn't
hurt as much as he thought it would, but it still hurts quite a bit.

He gets an idea. He puts the pillow on the floor and then kneels on the
pillow and puts his head in his arms on the couch. Perfect. He's used to
this position. He actually manages to fall asleep again and this time
sleeps for a good long time and wakes up in the same position.

The sun has just risen and he is transfixed by the beauty he sees when he
looks out the big picture window. He goes and makes his usual breakfast
cereal that they make him eat. It tastes great and he suspects they've put
some cbd in it because it always has him feeling good after he eats it. HA!
He gets a painkiller after all.

He uses the bathroom and discovers that it really hurts a lot to try to sit
on the toilet, so he tries to do his business without actually making
contact with the seat. Dare he take a shower? He decides not to, but takes
a washcloth and washes out his pits and puts on some deodorant. not gonna
stink himself up.

Then he takes the journal to the desk and sits down on the pillow again and
opens the journal. The lure of the blank page gets to him and he begins to
write.

Journal Entry #1. Saturday morning.

"I got whipped last night because I made a stupid mistake. Really
whipped. Arms bound, hanging down on tiptoes, three men there. A nurse, one
of my Masters and the Master with the whip. He showed it to me and I guess
that was supposed to make me even more frightened than I already was. It
looked awful. Then some kind of God-awful formal announcement was made as
if there were hundreds of people viewing my shame. "Disobedient slave. 20
lashes."

Damn, damn damn I am a slave. Not like Justin's playtoy but a real live
slave and so many of the details of my life are arranged by a team of
Masters. They all use me like the slut I am. No problem with that. They're
also good to me in their strange sort of way.

I found gsm and was like a kid in a candy store, making all sorts of
connections and meeting lots of kinky Doms and Masters and I really
overdosed. Nobody to blame but myself, and I kept reminding myself of that
as the whip kept lashing at my back and my poor sore ass. Damn!
Naked. Whipped. Bound. Punished. Slave. Those words turn me on, how weird
is that?

Masters actually asked me what I thought I needed to do to make things less
stressful in my life, and I surprised myself by telling the absolute truth:
no more gsm. It could quickly become an addiction. In fact, I think it
already had and that's why I got myself into so much trouble. Can't have a
full-fledged BDSM scene every night of the week, dude. Where was your
brain?

That last night was the straw that broke the camel's back. Creepy creepy
creepy. Even the young dudes I had to blow. But maybe it would have seemed
better if I had been overloaded acting far too much like a slut. When
didn't the Masters put an end to it? Probably because they wanted me to
learn the hard way. Well, I did.

Hey, maybe I'll try to write a little poetry. I wish I had that book to
read, the letters to the young poet. Damn, I wish I had SOMETHING to read.

Enough now. Going to take a nap."

Meanwhile, a lot is happening back in Lipton as well as up north.

Not being one to waste time, Oscar sends a text to Zeke and invites him to
lunch so they can discuss "arrangements to continue subjugating the twink
named Michael," and Zeke readily agrees. They plan to meet at 1:30 pm to
avoid the usual lunch crowd at a bar and grille near them both. "I was
really surprised to get your text," Zeke says. "I didn't know you were into
the lifestyle or that you've had experience with the `twink' you
mentioned."

"To tell you the truth, Zeke, before I met Michael I was never interested
in any of this stuff, but there is something about that boy, something in
him that just calls out for it. I tried a little and discovered I liked
it. After about 3 sessions, I found out I had the aptitude for it,
especially for the humiliation aspects, and, as you well know, the boy is
so compliant and its needs are so great that I've been positively
inspired. Much to my surprise, I now think of him as a slave and even more
surprisingly, I've begun to think of myself as a Master, albeit a Master in
training."

"Ah, my friend, congratulations. I agree with everything you say about the
boy, and despite all my own experience, I have to say that he is a real
willing candidate and far more rewarding to work with than most of the
other so-called subs roaming around this neck of the woods. So anyway, it
sounds like you are connecting to the slave on more than a merely physical
level."

"Absolutely, Zeke. This might sound strange after so short a time, but I
. . . I want to own the slave."

"Trust your instinct. Always trust your instinct when it comes to the
stuff. And congratulations. I assume the slave is feeling the same way."

"Yes, Zeke. And I was able to persuade it to tell me all the details of the
last time you worked it in your "state-of-the-art playroom," to use his
exact words."

Zeke laughs. "That is it, Oscar. I've put a lot of time and energy into it
and it always pays off for me. I've been able to touch the inner slave for
a lot of my play partners and bring them beyond what they thought were
their limits. And if Michael told you everything, thank you are well aware
of just how far I've brought the kid and how I was able to train it to do
things that it previously was afraid to try."

"Yes, I've heard all about that. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with
that information or how I'm going to put it into practice, but I'm sure
I'll find my way."

"Sure sounds like it, Oscar. Well, I'm happy for you, even though it means
that I'll be losing out. It was fun to work the slut over."

"that's why I wanted to talk to you, Zeke. The slave and I have raised the
questions of exclusivity and ownership, but I have such respect for you and
also such a need for further, . .. um...support and instruction that I let
the slave know that as its Master I would be quite willing to share as far
as you're concerned, and maybe even the both of us . . ."

". . . .the both of us working it over at the same time?"

"Exactly."

"Interesting prospect. And at the same time, I would be able to model a
number of things for you as you continue to make progress as a BDSM Master,
especially concerning positions and techniques and other such
matters. Sounds like an exciting prospect, and I'm relieved to know that
you are not going to play the "I am the King of its universe" game and cut
everyone else out of the equation."

"So you'd be willing to do that, Zeke?"

"Absolutely, my friend. I assume the boy told you that I have no interest
in any kind of exclusive relationship."

"Yes, it did."

"Excellent. Well then, let's work something out. I suggest that you
continue exploring what you want to explore with Michael, but that we set a
date in a week or so for a group session at my place. Besides, I always
like to show off what I've done to design my play space."

"Hot damn! I'm so glad you open to this idea, Zeke, and appreciate any
guidance you'll be able to offer me."

"Well, just thinking off the top of my head, I'd suggest we play it this
way. You are its Master, totally. I am your friend. Because of the slave's
past history, you have decided to share it with your friend Zeke. In a
session, Zeke will take charge but everything is subject to your approval
and you can call it quits any time you want. In the meantime, without
making it a big issue, I will model things for it and sometimes invite you
to try out what I do in order to help you develop your technique. This is
especially important when it comes to heavy impact activities and the use
of certain toys. And, if I might suggest, you make it clear to the slave
that you are sharing it with me so that you can develop techniques in a way
that is much safer than if you were trying to figure it all out on your
own. You are using me as a resource. The slave will refer to you as Master
and to me as Sir."

"Wow. This is just what I was hoping for, Zeke. Thanks for being so
open-minded."

"Oscar, all of us in the lifestyle have a responsibility to help one
another grow and develop. None of us has ever learned to do it on our own,
and that includes me. I've had some great mentors myself, and I'm happy to
assume that role as far as you're concerned. Do you have any further
questions?"

"AS far as exclusivity goes?"

"Oscar, Michael is now your slave. You own it. From this point on I will
not play with it unless you are present. No more private sessions between
the two of us. And as far as training in techniques goes, there's no reason
why you and I can't meet privately from time to time if you feel a need. It
would be best if it doesn't seem like I am actually training you when the
slave is present. that might confuse it's mind and it's important that it
realizes that it belongs to YOU, not to you and me in some kind of joint
arrangement."

"Wow. You think of everything."

"Well, like I said, I've had good mentors. that's the way the situation
works best. One more thing. Concerning urinal-training . . . "

"What do you suggest?"

"You haven't done anything about it yet?"

"Well last night I had it in the tub with an open mouth and I pissed into
its mouth but wouldn't allow it to swallow any of it. I told it that it
would have to earn the right to drink my piss in the future."

"Shit, Oscar, you're a natural. That's brilliant! You don't need any help
at all in that category. And as for me, I'll step back from that. If
nothing else, perhaps when I sense the time is right I might suggest the
slave take its first drinks from you when I'm present. But I'll leave that
completely up to you. For me, the big thrill is getting a sub to do it for
the first time. I've already broken its virginity in that area. From here
on in, it is your piss it has to learn to drink. At the beginning this is
almost always an exclusive arrangement with the Master doing the
training. Later, you as Master might decide, as a matter of subjugation and
humiliation, to force the slave to offer those services to other select
people or to everyone at large. For example, once it is taking yours on a
regular basis, one time we're all together you might decide to demand the
slave to serve as my urinal as well. But take your time about that. You
really need to have it be a very personal thing between the two of you for
a good long time before expanding the scope of its servicing others. Or
never if that is what you decide. The important thing to realize is that in
all cases, you are completely in charge, whether it be with me or with
anyone else."

"Makes great sense. thanks so much for your invitation and your advice."

"No problem, dude. I assure you that the day will come when you are doing
the same thing for someone else. That's what happens when things work for
the best."

They enjoy a nice lunch and it is obvious that negotiations are proceeding
favorably. The poor boy doesn't know what it is in for!

One more thing: Since it is a leisurely Saturday and they both are free,
Zeke offers to bring Oscar to his favorite adult store to help him begin to
build up his toy collection. Oscar agrees to purchase only the very best
equipment and comes away with safe manacles and leg cuffs, a leather
collar, several d-clips, a riding crop, poppers, cock&ball binders, a
chastity cage suitable for Michael's size and a moderately-sized butt
plug. Zeke also gives him a list of things to purchase in the open market:
clothespins, a strap or belt, rawhide shoelaces that can easily be formed
into a home-made whip, a wooden bath brush or hair brush, and chains and a
leash at a pet store along with bowls for the slave to use for water and/or
food as the Master chooses. Michael is in for a rude awakening. The last
piece of advice that Zeke gives Oscar is simply not to try out everything
at once, but to simply trust his gut as to what to introduce at which stage
of the game.

Before parting they set a date for their first "three-some" at Zeke's place
and that takes care of that.

By the time all this is finished, it's almost 5 pm. Oscar texts Michael:

"what are you up to, boy?"

"laundry and some class work, Master. Brandon's life-long friend Gary will
be arriving sometime between 5 and 7. He's going to be living here. His
parents disowned him yesterday."

"Some parents should be horsewhipped, and not in a nice sort of way. I hope
your friend will be okay."

"I think he'll be fine. He just quit a school that his parents were making
him attend and they don't like that he's friends with a "faggot," so they
threw him out. Actually, I think he's probably relieved to be free of
them."

"Good. I'm sure you and Brandon will make him feel very welcome."

"Definitely. Brandon is kind of sweet on him. Has been all their lives."

"Interesting to see what develops. And guess what? I had a nice lunch with
Zeke and then we went shopping."

"wow. That was quick, Master."

"I don't intend to fool around when it comes to you, slave."

"You can fool around with me any time you'd like, Master."

"I assume your evening is open since you don't have permission to go
whoring around, Michael."

"Yes it is, Master. Brandon is away for the weekend for some kind of
extended retreat."

"I assume you know how to cook."

"Yes, Master, a little bit."

"I'll be there at 7. Fix us a nice supper, nothing involved."

"Yes, Master. Will do."

"Good boy. I'll be spending the night. Make sure there are clean sheets on
the bed."

"Yes, Master. My sheets are in the dryer right now."

"I will require your presence and attention until Sunday evening. I will
stop at an Asian restaurant and bring cooked rice to supplement your
supper. Good for your tummy, slave."

"I could just fry up some breaded chicken cutlets, Master."

"Excellent. Nothing but that. See you soon, slave."

"thank You, Master. Happy that You'll be here soon."

And that takes care of that.

Meanwhile, up north

Austin takes Jonny to a frat party where the beer is flowing freely and
women are throwing themselves at every male in sight. He deliberately
allows Jonny to get drunk while limiting himself to only two beers. An
equally drunk slovenly young female puts the moves on Jonny who gets
increasingly more embarrassed while Austin looks on from a distance,
enjoying Jonny's discomfort. It doesn't last for long, however, because one
of their dorm mates moves in on the girl and tells her that Jonny is a fag
and she makes a big deal out of it and spreads his "secret" around, not
caring who finds out.

Finally, at one point, Austin thinks it best to extricate Jonny from the
situation and he walks right into the gang Jonny's involved with and takes
him by the neck and says in a loud voice, "That's enough, cocksucker. I
want you. Let's go."

The place gets real quiet real quickly and then a few guys and several of
the girls starts cheering, "fag slave, fag slave, fag slave." The president
of the frat holding the party tells Austin to make the slave get naked and
then goes upstairs to get something. Austin kindly helps Jonny strip while
everyone watches the show. Meanwhile, the President comes back downstairs
with a dog collar and a leash and hands them to Austin. "Used to have a
dog. You can keep this." Austin takes the collar and wraps it around
Jonny's neck and it's a perfect fit. Once again everyone starts
cheering. "You gonna share the slut?" one of the frat guys asks, and Austin
answers, "Eventually, but not yet. Not until it's properly trained." He
attaches the leash to the collar and leads the tipsy Jonny right out of the
frat house and back to their dorm while Jonny carries on a bit about being
"outed" and about losing his clothes.

"If I had my way, sweetheart, you'd never have any need for clothes
again. Anyway, I'm sure that one of the guys from the dorm will bring them
back to you."

Austin stops dead in the middle of the street ,turns around and says, "Look
at me." Jonny does so, although he finds it hard to stand up straight on
his own. "No more secrets about you, boy. You are a cocksucker. You are
mine. Now everyone knows it."

"Let me blow you right here in the street," answers Jonny, trying to fall
to his knees, but Austin keeps him upright.

"Home, bitch, home. Then you can get on your knees all fucking night if you
want." And off they go.

---to be continued ---