The Alchemy of an Encounter
by Lowell Mitford
Chapter 2
– The Diary
From
Ari's account later published as Ari: The Diary of a Submissive
I came
back to the compound in the early morning on my motorbike with everything I
cared to own from my now former life: clothes in a tote bag, a small carry-on,
my clarinet. The bike was stored in the garage . . . far back, I would be there
a while.
I told
myself I was prepared. After all, I was not a child. I had had gay
acquaintances in college, and I had even done some online searches about
submission techniques.
Benicio
had made a small house on the property available to Aurelio. There most of my
training would take place, and I would sleep. With Aurelio holding my arm, I
made my way up and stowed my gear. It was then El Jefe grabbed and
kissed me, his powerful tongue arching far down my throat.
"The
last one for a while, I'm afraid," he said. Then he told me to strip to my
briefs.
He led
me barefoot down to the pool, where the household was having morning coffee.
Ari made the introductions: Don Benicio, who I recognized from his posters, his
partner Juan, the housemen Victor and Pedro, the grounds and pool boys Pablito
and Arvid. El Jefe, who had thought of everything, Pads with Velcro were
placed on my knees, and my arms were tied behind me with steel cable. Aurelio
pointed to a small rug beside the pool and I was made to kneel. Rings of steel
cable were latched firmly around my ankles, then stretched taut either side of
my neck, then hooked together to a soft cloth pad that was placed over my
mouth.
The
cables looked less than new, and I learned later this was actually the fifth
time they had been used at the compound: First on Salvador, who I learned was
now an investment banker in Madrid -- we had sex together much later in his
apartment. Felipe had trained as a priest, before the weight of his suffering
and guilt became too much. He was now much happier guiding tours in Mallorca.
Martin I met later too. He owns a bar in Santander. And Rodrigo, a petty
criminal, is now back in jail applying what he learned. Now it was my turn.
Juan
lifted a small videocamera to his chest and began to film. From the side I
heard a loud buzzing, and turned swiftly, where Victor plugged a set of hair
clippers into an outlet. El Jefe spoke.
"Hijo,
no one will put a mark on you that you do not consent to being there. But you
are mine now, and we require a sign of your true submission. Prepare to give up
your golden locks."
Just as
Victor approached with the clippers, a blindfold was placed over my eyes. First
the clippers trimmed my beard and moustache. The buzzing noise changed as my
jaw was seized roughly and I felt a shower of hair fall from my scalp, across
my torso and thighs. My briefs were pulled tight in the back, as my erect and
throbbing cock lurched free in front, eliciting an appreciative groan from my
audience. Then I felt a light breeze as the cloth was snipped away from my now
sweating buttocks, probably with scissors. I felt a single tear slip past the
blindfold. Someone, probably Victor again, moved close, humming softly as he
completed the shaving of my scalp, jaw and upper lip. I felt his warm, shaved
leg against my neck. I groaned as my weight was then shifted to one side, then
the other, as the pubic hairs Aurelio had spared me earlier were shaved away.
My cock was now leaking freely. A voice from far away, probably Benicio's,
called Vamanos muchachos! There was a clinking tidying-up noise, then
feet shuffling away. As soon as the
voices died away, I began to weep softly. I thought I had prepared myself but I
had not – not for the spectacle of it. I was humiliated and alone.
But not
quite. Above the noise of the gentle breeze, the birds chirping and the lap of
the pool water, I could detest labored breathing close to my left ear. I felt
Aurelio's beard tickle my now smooth neck.
"Imaginese,"
he whispered. "You're still hard. It's always like this." I felt the gentle
warmth of the lotion which had been sunning on a chair by the pool for some
time. Broad fingers smoothed, then entered my ass, spreading me wide, as wide
as the constraints would allow. I was rocked gently back until my anus touched
hard plastic, poised upright like a rocket. I sighed as it entered me,
withdrew, then entered me again, over and over. My cock attained an almost painful
erection. I longed to finish it off but the constraints to my arms held firm.
Then each time I rocked forward, the tips of three fingers cupped my ass and
stroked my hard sex for no more than one, two, three seconds at a time. This
went on for twenty, thirty, forty repetitions. My knees ached with the strain
and sweat poured from the outside of buttocks and down my chest. My moans rose
in a crescendo. Just when I thought I could not endure another second, I was
pulled back, hard, on the plastic device. I let out a cry, audible even through
the cloth masking my mouth, as a rough hand violently jerked my cock.
My seed,
when it launched, seemed propelled far away into the stratosphere. Shot after
shot left me, as my cries became shorter and more intense. At the moment I
doubled over, drained, I could hear a muffled cheer and applause coming from
the house, as the mask was ripped away and bright sunlight stabbed my eyes.
Hands held my neck in a vise-like grip, looking straight ahead, when a trail of
cum glistened for some three feet in the morning sun.in the morning sun, over
the plastic chaise lounge, almost all the way to the pool. The mask, too, now
was gone and I gulped air, for no more than six or seven enormous breaths. Then
the voice behind me whispered "Lick it – while it's warm," and pushed my head
forward. I tasted my own seed, along with grass and dirt.
As I
tried to breathe I felt the hairy, sweaty warmth of Aurelio's firm belly now
conjoined to my back. My weight was again shifted, this time to the right, and
Aurelio's thick sex entered me, at least three inches at first. I tried to
regulate my breathing, adjusting to the intrusion, but before I could make a
sound, another three inches plunged into me, then what felt like another three,
so that I was full in a way I had never imagined possible. I took advantage of
my fullness to arch my neck back against El Jefe's slick chest. "Here I
am," I thought, smiling. "My true wedding at last."
Under
his steady pounding a thing I would have thought impossible began to happen. My
poor cock stirred, rose, and rose again as though reaching for the sky. "Hombre,"
I muttered involuntarily, "Mi hombre." "Mi hombre."
El
Jefe, grunting
in my ear, took up the call and response. "Who's fucking you, Compadre?
Who? Who?" with each call I answered, "Mi hombre."
The
cables were now ripped from my arms, as Aurelio guided my right hand, almost
numb, to my now belligerent cock. "Go ahead," he groaned. "Finish, slave. Send
them after their useless brothers."
With
that I gave a cry coming straight from my heart, as more sperm seemed to fly
straight up, coating my chin, my throat, my chest, and the insides of my thighs
with warmth. I felt myself slipping, as Aurelio caught my arm. I passed
completely out.
A few
minutes later, Aurelio and someone else, perhaps Victor, guided me, rubber
legged, up to the casita Benicio had allowed Aurelio as our new home.
With blue shutters, terra cotta walls, and a tiny view of the sea, it had a
small office, a bedroom with hammock, single bed and cot at the foot, a
bathroom with tub and water closet, and a room that looked like a dojo, with
floor mat, for my exercise training. I only saw it later, because the next few
hours I spent in deep slumber, every circuit in my mind and body having just been
blown. When I awoke it was already early afternoon. I managed to relieve my
bladder with painful difficulty. Victor and Aurelio must have washed me down,
because filthy towels lay crumpled in the corner. Juan entered, setting down a
plate of grilled chicken and slices of mango, and a pitcher of cool water. I
ate and drank greedily. As Juan left, my mouth full, I tried to apologize for
my nakedness.
"Why?"
replied Juan, smiling, and closed the door softly.
When I
woke again it was after five in the afternoon. The long sun warmed the room. I
stirred and sat on the side of the bed, looking at my hands, then padded to the
bathroom and looked I the mirror. I did
not recognize this person. My head had been shaved roughly, my lost moustache
and beard now emphasized the weakness of my chin. My upper body was pink with
sunburn, my lower lip was bruised, my right eye pink, as though a small blood
vessel had burst. To whom did this reflection belong? Could anyone ever love
him, truly? Could I? I I sobbed without making a sound. I returned to sit on
the bed, then thinking better of it, knelt on my haunches in the position of a
supplicant. Moments later the door opened, and the shadow of Aurelio loomed
over the length of the bed.
"Buenas
noches, Hombre," I said quietly.
"Muy
suave, hijo," growled El Jefe, tossing books, mail and a small
package onto the bed. He motioned for me to rise and be seated on the bed. His
long, bare legs extended from the chair in which he was seated. "How are you
feeling?" he asked.
"Better,
sir. A little tired."
"Good.
Today you have rested. Tomorrow will be more hard work. I hope you are ready."
"Indeed,
sir, ready."
"There
will be tapas at the big house at six. We dine early – this is not
Madrid. By tradition, the newest member stands and serves the house. You will
wear sandals and this. I hope it fits you."
He
tossed me the package, which I opened, revealing a new boxed Ace jock strap. I
reddened as I tried it on.
"It's a
little tight."
"Excelente.
Conduct yourself discreetly. No one will bother you, but there may be curious
hands. No guests tonight, luckily for you." He rose and turned to shower,
humming as he stripped.
Before
we strolled to the big house Aurelio, who had changed to Bermuda shirt and
shorts, clapped a baseball cap with the logo of one of Benicio's companies on
my sunburned head. When we arrived three of the men of the household were in
the elaborate kitchen, another two lounged in the TV room. Benicio sat between
them, swiveling a stool at the bar, very much the star of the show.
"Behold
the man," Aurelio called out. "Your new shortstop."
Benicio
laughed his clarion laugh. "Jefe, what have you done?" he called
out. "I'm going to call Social
Services!"
I was
led around and formally presented to each, though they knew perfectly well who
I was. I kept my head lowered. No incidents until I was led to Victor, a bit of
a company clown, who lifted my strap wide, saying brightly "Did you bring me
something? A hedgehog? Oh, I see it's gone to sleep!" Then he snapped the strap
back, to much laughter.
I
blushed again, then turned to assist Juan with the platos. He looked at
me with tenderness, saying "Stand back, it's hot," as he handed me the first
dish. I served for an hour, not eating, I
then was permitted to have a plate in the kitchen, where I could hear
the conversation. Benicio was very much the star of the show, as he was most
nights. There were no more jokes at my expense; I expect El Jefe had ensured
that.
I helped
Juan with the dishes, then Aurelio accompanied me back to the casita. He threw
me a clean shirt, then seated me next to him in the double lounge chair in the
shadows of the porch. From here we could watch the sunset and the twinkling
lights around the pool.
He put
his muscular arm around my warm shoulders. "Nervous?" he asked.
"A
little bit, Jefe."
He
patted my leg. "Seguro que sí," he whispered. "First day of school."
Then for the only time that day he smiled at me. He lit a cigar and puffed
thoughtfully.
"Tomorrow
we will discuss your work duties, most of which you already know. Then we can
begin your training in earnest. I ask only that you be honest with me about
what you are feeling, and whether this is working. I want you to understand
that I will always listen to you. Because I care about what happens to you,
very much."
I
nodded. I followed him inside, then halted. "Master, where do I sleep?"
He
scratched his beard in pretended puzzlement, as he got in bed. "Where do you
suppose slaves should sleep?" I started to sink to the floor, but he grabbed my
arm, directing me to the cot.
"Apagan
la luz" he called out. I flipped the switch and returned to my cot.
For
another minute or two, the cigar glowed in the dark. Then Aurelio stubbed it
out in the ashtray. After another minute he whispered, "Hijo, ven aquí,"
opening his arms for me to join him.
As we
passed quietly to sleep, I heard these words in my head before I drifted off: "Tú me ordenaste venir aquí, y aquí he
venido por ese mandato: por consiguiente protégeme."
You did bid me come here and here I
have come because of that bidding - therefore protect me.