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.