Chapter 51 – Adventures of Fag Dad
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Born http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/born/ Dad Likes to Watch http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/dad-likes-to-watch Downward Spiral of Jim http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/downward-spiral-of-jim Growing Up Naked http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/growing-up-naked/ Naked Whore http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/naked-whore Put Out to Pasture http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/put-out-to-pasture Santa's Slave Training http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/santas-slave-training Special Product Design http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/special-product-design The Trunk http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/the-trunk Tommy the Catcher http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/tommy-the-catcher
Chapter 51
Sinclair and Joe went on a romantic tear around Europe. They took a year stopping in a location for weeks when they fell in love with a place wanting to experience the local color.
Both enjoyed the Slavic countries for their beauty and the magnificent men. One weird new thing in their relationship was picking up guys to have regular-type sex three-ways. Three-ways are tricky for couples. But, Joe and Sinclair took to it like ducks on water. It was an extension of their love to each other to bring in others to share in the fun.
And, it was regular, good old, fuck/suck sex. No whips, no chains, no scars, no ropes, no blindfolds, no dildos (well, maybe dildos), no fisting (well, maybe fisting). They would find a nice handsome man. They would bring him home. The man may stay for a few days. He may stay until everyone shoots their load. He could be a new candidate for the ranch.
If he were a ranch candidate, Joe would spend time talking about being a slave. He would tell his whole story starting with Paul, and then with the ultimate, Sinclair. He would explain his experience being a slave was different from most. Sinclair was by far the best in his class. Just as Joe was the best in his class as a slave.
Joe told the slave candidate there were no guarantees as to what awaited them in the United States. They could end up with a domestic situation where they maintained a regular life, including a job, and was a slave to a Master.
The newly minted slave could end up working fields, being abused, dying young from the stress of backbreaking work. Their bodies could be mutilated. One master may want them big and muscular. One might want thin. One other may wish to have a eunuch. Another might want them for porn or being a whore. It could go anyway.
This would scare some. Joe got good at seeing who would be best for the ranch. He knew the ones who thought the ranch was their deal. He could see if the potential was in fantasy and, thus, not a good fit. Joe would send them on their way; maybe fucking before kicking them to the curb for good measure.
There were others, though, Sinclair dealt with explicitly. He would go out on the town and find one. He would do the dance such as in Paris, where he saw them for several days, making them want him desperately. In about three or four days, depending on Sinclair's enjoyment of fucking with someone's head, they would disappear. He would show up at the auction, stand in the appropriate place to see the new slave's face as the slave and Sinclair looked into each other's eyes; the slave on the stage and Sinclair in the audience.
Sinclair would do others for the specifics of the ranch without the partnership with Joe. The same procedure would be taken of the seduction. Instead of disappearing, he would take them to the airport, legitimately get them on a flight bound for Phoenix, saying there would be someone there to pick them up and show them the United States.
Each version of Sinclair's work alone had a cruel streak. He never had sex with the ones he picked up on his own. The men's first attraction to Sinclair would be the desire to have sex with him. In denying the new slave (although the former man didn't know he was a slave yet) the pleasure, once the slave understood what he sacrificed (their lives), and not to have sex with Sinclair, was a harsh punishment. Sinclair mused these men would think about him for the rest of their lives. Yet, he would have sex with them if Joe was involved in the capture. He liked to watch Joe and the candidate have sex. Sinclair was a voyeur.
Sinclair got off one witnessing his partner fuck the next ranch victim or fucked by the new slave. He would sit on a chair in the bedroom with his clothes on rubbing his cock against his pants. Sometimes he would quietly shoot a load in his underwear. Other times he would take his cock out making sure the slave saw the cock of his master, but nothing more. On occasion, he would take his clothes off and fuck the slave. The slave had to be unique to get Sinclair's cock inside him.
Joe and Sinclair had a routine if Sinclair shot a load in the next slave's ass. Each would move in close to the ears of the slave and in unison say: "Remember, this was the pinnacle of your life. It's downhill from here on out."
Sinclair loved the mindfuck, and he got Joe to appreciate it as well. The slave's pleasure of having been fucked by Sinclair and the semen inside turned to fear and terror.
Joe went along with all this; Sinclair's solitary work, the mindfucking, the whisper; because it was fun. And, yet, Joe had red flags he was ignoring regarding Sinclair's dangerous dance between the dark and the light.
By the time a year past, close to 100 slaves were now on the ranch from the work of Sinclair and Joe. There was a 20% rejection rate; a result of Joe's work making sure they were ready for what awaited them and it was not a fantasy.
"Sinclair, I'm done."
"Done with what?" Sinclair smiled in anticipation of Joe's next point in the relationship.
"I'm done with travel. Can we please go to Paris? We've made money. I want to get a flat. It's time we created our own crew of slaves. I envision training for domestic slaves where I can teach them the proper ways of the home. They would be like me, living the life of a slave and the life of a regular. Each would have a job and be responsible for them." Joe explained.
"Sounds good to me." Sinclair reached into his pocket and threw Joe a key across the room.
"What's this?"
"The key to our new flat," Sinclair said with a grin.
Joe came over to Sinclair, who was sitting on a couch and kissed him. He snuggled next to the man he loved with Sinclair putting his arm around Joe. They didn't say much. Nothing needed to be said.
Meanwhile, the ranch was being built. There was a construction crew. There were slaves to help. The construction crew didn't seem to mind the extra help. Scott explained to the team these men were here to assist in any way than needed.
Some of the crew didn't get it for a bit. Others got it right away picking one, or several, to fuck. The ranch was far from civilization and other sex options.
There were always a few gay construction workers, but the majority was straight. In the hot, desert southwest building structure, a hole is a hole, a mouth is a mouth.
A big, burly man came into Scott's office one day as the building project was wrapping.
"Scott, I want number 41. How can I have him? I don't have the kind of money he would fetch. I've fallen for the fucker." Mike explained.
"Mike, you're married to a woman," Scott stated.
"Not for long. I filed on my divorce the last break. I may be straight, but 41 is more woman and man than I ever experienced. He lets me fuck him whenever I want. He sucks cock better than any woman. He is willing to devote his whole attention to my needs. I ain't going to get that from a cunt."
"Let me get back to you."
"Kevin, we have a phenomenon happening here. Several of the construction men want to take a slave with them. Seems they realized how wonderful a submissive can be for them over other types of relationships. This includes the straight crew. Actually, it is mainly the straight crew who has seen the light." Scott said laughing.
"What do we do about pricing? We already paid Sinclair and Joe their fee, so we're in it for some money." Scott continued.
"Sell them for the fee we paid to Sinclair and Joe. They contributed to the building of the property. We got our money's worth. Most of the group from Europe is for maintaining the ranch while we deal with the cash prizes, the executives.
"Some of those fucking executives are worthless. They don't know how to work, and these other slaves will teach them. We make so much money from them, the Europeans are gravy."
"I know," Scott admitted. "You want to hear something funny?"
"Sure."
"That executive, Peter, you got a few weeks ago. The foreman has turned him into his bitch. Have you seen what's going on with them?"
"No, been occupied," Kevin laughed.
"They hit it off right away. Peter, unlike the others, needed little training. The foreman is in hog heaven. He gets a right-hand man for work who understands business. Peter follows him around like a little puppy making sure everything is ok with his owner. The foreman also gets a hole to fuck and a mouth to suck him off. They sleep together. The two are in love. Shocked the shit out of me when I saw it happen over the last few weeks." Scott told.
"Cool."
Scott mused, "It reminds me of the stories you told me about when you were Paul's manservant and love."
Kevin's face turned sad.
"Oh. I'm sorry, Kevin. I shouldn't have. I know you are hurting over your relationship with Paul."
"Thanks. I wish I could have him back. I don't necessarily want the old days where we traveled together. But, I would like him to be with me. I mean, why can't he be a slave like Joe, able to move from slave to normal and back?
"He cooks all day; he showers, and sleeps with the other slaves. I know he is manipulating me. He's fucking me over because of my assistant. I knew, even as a slave, he would find a way to make me miserable over the assistant thing." Kevin sighed.
"I don't understand what your problem is, Kevin. You're a dominant sub. It would seem you could go grab him by the balls and tell him how things are going to be around here." Scott admonished.
Kevin snapped.
"Paul," Kevin said walking into the kitchen.
"Number 92." Paul corrected.
"Oh fuck you. You're god damn name is Paul. You are my partner. I love you, and I want you back."
Kevin yelled at the top of his lungs. The slaves were in the process of serving. No one had ever seen so much food leave the kitchen so fast.
"Well, then decide to be my master," Paul responded. "I know I misbehaved. Initially, this separation was to punish. I'm happy with my life, except for the fact I'm not with you."
"Why can't you play both sides like Joe?"
"Because I'm not Joe you mother fucker." Now Paul was yelling. "I like my work. It's hard, but I like it. I like being a slave. I like not having to think like Joe does. Yes, you fucking asshole. I want to be with you too, but you're the master. Figure it out so I can have the joy of being a slave. That's what I want."
Kevin was a master, but he also had a lot of his old, sub-self in him, which made it hard for him to dominate Paul in the way he knew he needed to. So he did the next best thing he could, he punched Paul in the stomach and fell to the floor and started crying.
"Oh, Christ. What the fuck, Kevin?"
"Oh shut up you asshole. I can only dominate you so much. I only have so much strength. I'm not Sinclair. I can be almost like Sinclair with other slaves. I'm not up to the task with you, and I am no longer going to play the punishment/manipulation game with you. Just come sleep with me tonight. No more talking. Just come sleep with me." Kevin asked through the tears.
"What about your `assistant'?" Paul said sarcastically.
Kevin didn't comment on the assistant. "Oh fuck you. Come sleep with me or don't. You fucking decide. Just know. I want you, Paul."
Kevin walked out of the kitchen.
"Ok, everyone. You can come back in and keep the process going." Paul instructed.
"Chef?"
"Yeah, what?" Paul asked with the annoyance of being bothered.
"Chef, do you know I know how to cook?"
"No, I didn't. What's your point?" Paul responded.
"I'm saying. You don't have to do this every day. I am perfectly capable of doing your job. You could take a day off. I could do it now if you would like to go do something else." The slave continued.
"Okay. Here." Paul symbolically handed him his chef coat even though it was way too big for the slave. "Have at it."
Paul walked over to Kevin's building. Nothing is ever locked, so he went inside, took off his clothes and went to bed. He slept for hours, thoroughly exhausted.
Kevin finally came back after dinner. "What the fuck is this?"
Paul groggily sat up in bed. "Where's your fucking assistant?" Not answering the question.
"Asshole, he doesn't sleep with me. Didn't you know that? You slept with him more than I have. You slept with him the whole time we were in the RVs. He sucked your nipples and masturbated with you every night. He told me you were gruff with him, but you held him all night long."
"Well, you slept and fucked Scott." Paul retorted.
"Oh, who the fuck cares." Kevin took his clothes off, jumped into bed with Paul. "Spoon me you asshole."
"Now, what?" Paul asked Kevin the next morning.
"I don't know. Can we just let it unfold? Please be here every night. Please fix me breakfast and not the fucking slaves. Have your staff do the breakfast shift. I don't want to talk much. I don't want to figure it out. I want you. That's the best I can muster as a master's order right now. Live with it." Kevin got up and took a shower.
By the time Kevin was dressed for the day, he was greeted in the kitchen with a naked Paul serving him breakfast and coffee. They sat and eat together in silence. Kevin wiped his lips with a napkin and said, "I'll see you tonight in our bed." He didn't kiss Paul. He walked out the door to go to work handling a new round of slaves arriving.
Paul was in bed again when Kevin got back that night. Paul was so exhausted from day-to-day work he slept all day in "our bed."
"Paul, would you go with me to my next recruit job?" Kevin asked as he took his clothes off.
"What about your assistant?" Paul said with no jealousy in his voice.
"He's got plenty of work here," Kevin said. "Come with me, please."
Kevin and Paul flew across the country for a new prospect. It was the same old story; married, successful, unhappy, secretly wishing men would dominate him. The client signed on the dotted line.
Within a few days, the new slave's ties were untangled. The wife was gone. The job. The cars. The money. Much of the money was in Kevin and Scott business account or the ex-wife's account.
Kevin did something he didn't do with new slaves. He took Paul and the new slave to a dungeon before they flew back to the ranch. Kevin whipped the shit out of both of them. It was his way of getting a little of his business and personal frustrations out. Paul loved it. So did the new slave.
On the flight home with Paul and him in first class, and the new slave in the last row of the plane, Kevin said to Paul, "See, you can be like Joe. You can do both sides. And, you are still a fucking asshole. And, I love you."
"Oh. And, Paul. Have another croissant." Kevin said with a grin.
"Sure."
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