Chapter 53 -- Adventures of Fag Dad
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Disclaimer: This story contains explicit descriptions of adult men. These men engage in sexual activity with other adult men. The intent of this story is entertainment for adult male readers. All characters depicted having sex are over 18 years. You also must be over 18 to read about them. Thank you.
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Author's note: I apologize for taking so long to post the last two chapters of this saga to all the readers who loved this story. I became so entrenched in their lives; I couldn't let go. I cried many times while writing this. I loved these characters enormously as well. It was selfish of me not to publish the finish. You, dear reader, invested time into the story, and I owed you more. I am now ready. Grief doesn't have a timeline.
Chapter 53
"Sinclair, where the fuck, are you?" Joe screamed into the voicemail. While Sinclair was texting and speaking with Joe daily, he had not been to their new home since the first night. This was over a week ago.
Joe had a house full of slaves. He was busy maintaining decorum while being thoroughly pissed off but more worried about Sinclair's absence. In the lonely nights in bed after a full day of teaching the slaves, he laid wide awake considering what would happen if Sinclair was not around. While he was well-set, he cried at the thought of losing Sinclair.
His slave mentality did come to save the day, though, because he would talk himself out of his funk. "Joe, everyone comes in and out of a person's life. You are no different. If Sinclair is gone, then he is gone, and you must accept and continue. You are a slave. Get it together."
"Even if he does come back, he is your Master. You are not owed anything. He can do what he wants. And, besides, never, ever anticipate what your Master will do next."
Joe gave himself several good talking to's. Once he got to total acceptance of Sinclair's absence, Sinclair walked in the door.
"Hey, honey. I'm home." Sinclair joked, walking in on a slave training class in the living room.
All the slaves were sitting around naked while Joe was in seventh-heaven, teaching the joys of being a slave.
"You mother fucker," Joe yelled as he ran to Sinclair to kiss him. Then, he remembered himself turning to the audience, saying, "You are never to call your Master a mother fucker. I told you our relationship is special and different. This is a 'do as I say, not as I do' moment."
"You got over yourself, I see?" Sinclair said observing Joe was at peace with Sinclair's absence.
"Yes, Sir," Joe replied, bowing his head.
Sinclair changing the subject, "So what do we have here?"
"Sir, these are the slaves; all eight of them. Today is Saturday, so they are all home, and we have a class." Joe explained.
"Joe, go get my ball."
Joe went to get the ball handing it to Sinclair.
"You. On your knees. Fetch."
The slave crawled over to the ball and carried it in his mouth back to Sinclair.
"Good boy. Now faster."
Upon return, "Now smell my crotch. Doesn't that smell good? Wouldn't you like to taste a Master's cock? I bet you would, fucker. I bet you would.
"Go back to your position. You. Next. Fetch."
This slave moved faster, knowing the pace Sinclair wanted. "Good boy. Nice faggot." He patted the faggot on the head.
As the last slave fetched the ball, Sinclair took off his shoes and socks. He followed this by slowly unbuttoning his shirt, throwing it on the floor. His dress slacks were next dropping to the ground as he stepped out of them. Standing in his underwear, the cocks were all at full erection seeing their leader naked.
"You like it. Don't you, you faggots?" Sinclair stated. Joe was on his knees next to Sinclair after he picked the clothes off the floor and folded them neatly. Sinclair rubbed Joe's head in acknowledgment.
"Do you see this?" Pointed at Joe's position. "Remember this. This stance is a demonstration of loyalty.
"Now, who wants to smell my underwear?" Sinclair looked around the room. Instead of going for the most eager, he caught that there was a runt, as there is in every litter.
"You. Come over here. Good boy. On your knees like slave Joe. Joe, we are going to keep him as our pet."
Joe said nothing.
"Now, I want an honest answer. You. Who do you not like in this room?" Sinclair asked.
The frightened slave, with hesitance, pointed at another slave.
"Why?"
Horrified, the slave answered, "He's been mean to me. And, I think he's hot."
"Go suck his cock. And, you." Pointed to the one about to get a blow job. "He is your slave. You are a slave who has a slave.
"You two. Come." Sinclair said to the new Pet and Joe. They followed him on their knees to the bedroom. "Pet. Give me a massage. Joe, get the table out and the oil."
Joe got the table, heated the oil, fetched the towels and sheets, and turned on soft music.
Sinclair received a relaxing massage by the pet. The pet was beside himself. Joe did not indicate as to what to do, so the pet did the best he could.
The pet was quite good. Sinclair relaxed and fell asleep. When the pet finished, Joe put a blanket over his Master while instructing the pet to come to bed with him. Joe knew when Sinclair awoke; he would want to have sex with them both, which is precisely what happened.
"Eat my hole," Sinclair instructed the pet. The pet couldn't believe he had the luck of eating Sinclair's hole. His slave dream became a reality.
The three of them had beautiful sex. Joe enjoyed a third party. He knew the pet wasn't going anywhere, so Joe accepted the new unit into the bed. The pet never left, but most nights slept at the foot of the bed in an enlarged dog bed.
"Joe. You are too nice to them." Sinclair said one morning as the three of them lay in bed together.
Joe mused how he and Sinclair didn't change one thing, including intimate talking, in front of the pet. It was as if the pet wasn't there.
"What do you want to do, Sinclair? You want to sell them?" Joe asked. "That would mean going against our contract with them."
"Ok. We won't sell this group, but future contracts must include the possibility of an auction. They need to know the risks are severe."
Joe snarked, "Yeah. And, you want to get off."
"Yes. And I want to get off." Sinclair said with a smile.
Joe smiled back. He wasn't going to argue. Sinclair was right. Slaves need to understand there is a significant risk. It isn't all peaches and cream in a Parisian flat with a master and eight other slaves. Joe agreed to change the contract. The design change in the schooling was one slave from each class was to be auctioned off. None of the slaves would know which one until it happened. And the other slaves would attend the auction. It was a horrifying experience.
Magically, Joe noticed the threat made the slaves easier and faster to train. Within a few weeks, there was always a new batch. Joe got to the point where he got off on the event. Not like Sinclair, but he could see Sinclair's attraction to the process. He also noticed the three of them had fucking incredible sex after each auction.
"Hello, Sir. How are you? With no disrespect, why are you calling? Is there something wrong?" Sam asked.
"No. I want to see you, Sam."
"What about David?"
"I only want to see you, Sam. Meet me at bert's on avenue du President Wilson tomorrow at 10 AM."
"Yes, Sir," Sam said.
"See you there."
"Hi, Sam." His father stood to give Sam a big hug.
"Sir. It's good to see you. I miss you." Sam said after they sat down. "Sam, I want to talk to you about what would happen to one of us if the other was gone."
Sam's faced turned severe, "Sir. There is something wrong."
"No, Sam. There is nothing wrong; however, your father and I are getting older, and it is valuable to put these ducks in a row. I always felt Kevin and Paul would be involved if something happened, but Kevin is putting Paul through torture and so involved with the ranch he can't seem to come up for air.
"My point here is there is plenty of equity to take care of each of us. I don't want to call on you to change your life for the sake of caregiving. It is a thankless job leaving you emotionally bankrupt.
"Promise me. You will not be a caregiver to the point that your life gets put on hold. We will haunt you if you do." His father said with a laugh.
"Now. What's going on with you and David?"
Sam answered, "David is finishing school with an acceptance into art school. We struggle with where we want to go in our relationship. David would stop everything from being my slave. I don't want him to because he will resent me in the future.
"Sir, our relationship is unnatural. Brothers should not be this close, and especially Master and slave." Sam expressed.
"Why not?"
"Because. What about being with others? What about expanding horizons? What about experimentation?" Sam listed.
"Who says you can't do all that and continue to be together? I would agree it is unusual. What's wrong with unusual? You live in fucking France. France, in and of itself, is unusual. Join the party." Sam's father replied.
Sam had never quite seen it this way. "Ok. David is now of legal age. I will take over and change the game."
"Good. Now, back to when one of us is gone, here are all the documents from the French government's perspective and the United States government's
perspective. Everything is in order as you know we do. Read it. Call me if you have any questions. Your father and I are leaving for the ranch next week."
"What about the slaves at your home?" Sam asked.
"The pet is staying to run the place. We are releasing the rest from their slavery training. They can opt to stay with us and do their regular job, or they can leave and fend for themselves."
Sam's father and Sam sat in silence, uncomfortably looking at each other. Finally, the uneasiness vanished, and they caught each other's eyes. They looked into each other's souls.
"I love you, Sam." Sam's father stood to hug Sam and walked out of bert's. Sam continued to sit sipping an espresso, saying, "That was weird. Something is going on."
"Joe, gather the troops," Sinclair ordered.
Joe dutifully ordered the eight slaves and their pet into the main living space. Each was naked, which was le régulier in the household.
Sinclair took center stage with Joe kneeling by his side and their pet on the other. "Slaves, slave Joe and I are leaving to go the ranch our extended family owns where we send slaves. Because this is so sudden, we are discontinuing your slave training."
Sinclair paused to make sure not one of them reacted to this news. Joe taught them well because each face sat with only interest and no reaction.
"Here are your options. You are welcome to remain here in the flat, continue your outside job, and pay room and board. We will release your bank funds to you to manage on your own. Another option is to leave, fend for yourself. Those who choose this option get their bank funds given to them in cash.
"The final option is to accompany us to the ranch. You will be under someone else's training, and the ranch will sell you at some point to a master. Since you signed for this type of experience, I assume some of you will take this slave plan." Sinclair finished.
Joe continued to kneel by his Master's side with no emotion while hurting from his school closing announcement. He forced his mind to not think about what was going on. Sinclair was acting as supreme Master. This moment is Joe's time to take his slave role and release all of his comfy, cushy life expectations.
"You. What do you want?" Sinclair pointed at the timidest slave first.
"Sir, I wish to go to the ranch."
"No, you don't. You are not cut out for it. You will die. You are a good heart, but you are no slave. You will stay here under our roof."
"You?"
"Ranch, Sir."
"Good. You got the answer right. You know yourself well. Go pack your bag." Sinclair ordered the second slave.
"You?"
"I want to stay here in your home, Sir."
"No. You are going to the ranch also because you are answering this question based on fear. We will have none of that. You have the potential to be an excellent, slave Joe-type, slave."
"You?"
"Here."
"Correct answer." Sinclair acknowledged.
"You?"
"I want to leave."
"Correct answer. You are not good slave material. It is a fantasy to you." Sinclair delivered the truth.
"You?"
"Ranch."
"Yes."
"You?"
"Ranch, Sir."
"And, the last one. Do you know why you are the last one?"
"No, Sir."
"Yes, you do, asshole. You are the alpha of this litter. You are staying here to help the pet and the other slave. You also have a high-paying job. You need to keep the job. By being the alpha slave is your slave position. You will pay room and board, and assist in the household."
"Yes, Sir."
"Dismissed. Do what you need to do if you are going with us to the ranch? Our flight leaves this evening." Sinclair declared.
Now, there was a reaction on Joe's face. Sinclair saw it. "Joe, come with me."
Joe and Sinclair went to their bedroom. Joe started to cry. "I know, baby. I know." Sinclair led Joe to the divan and held him in his arms. "I'm sorry, baby. You know I gave this school to you. Now, I am taking it away. You know I have the right as your Master to do whatever I want. You also know we had an agreement to discuss major decisions before action.
"I did not follow the agreement. I'm sorry I had to pull rank this time. How did it feel? Did you like me deciding without you?" Sinclair asked.
Joe thought for a moment. He stopped crying. "Yes, Sir. I did. I like the egalitarian part of our relationship, but I also like the uncertainty and being told this is the way it is."
Sinclair reached for Joe's crotch. "And it makes you hard. Unbutton my pants and suck me off."
Unbuttoning Sinclair's pants, Joe pulled them to his feet, throwing them aside so Joe could get a better position to bury his face to take his Master's seed. While he was concentrating on the stiffness in his mouth, Joe understood the school was fun; yet, this was his true calling; being his Master's slave. He missed this feeling in all the day-to-day of life.
The feeling of white, hot, man cream shooting into Joe's throat stopped any of the residue disappointment of the change in plans.
"You like that, baby?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Put your back on my lap. Kiss me. And, masturbate your cock. Do not stop kissing me." Sinclair instructed.
Joe was kissing his Master. He was kissing the love of his life, holding onto dear life. Joe noticed a strange passion of desperation in his kiss to Sinclair. Something was going on. His orgasm was the most intense he ever felt. And, Joe had had some fantastic orgasms over his life. He was a fortunate and privileged slave.
"Come on, Joe. Let's go." Sinclair was in a mood, and Joe knew better than question. They rode to Charles de Gaulle in silence. The three others were in a separate car service where their seat assignment was the last row in the middle section--no window for them.
"American now boarding first class."
Joe and Sinclair got on the plane. Sinclair forced a new mood once on board. Joe knew Sinclair forced it, yet he was happy Sinclair took the energy to change.
A slave met them at the Phoenix airport for the drive to the ranch. Sinclair told Kevin he wanted to go directly to their accommodations without meeting Scott, Kevin, or Paul. The slaves were to provide them food and whatever until he and Joe recovered from jet lag.
"Hey, asshole." Sinclair walked into the cage.
"Hey," Paul responded. "What are you doing here?" After much persuasion from Kevin, Paul figured out he was not entirely at fault for how his life was now.
Paul's daily exercise and the force-feeding to gain weight made him huge. Kevin created a monster in terms of size. While Sinclair was casual about seeing Paul, he was discreetly shocked at how big he was.
Paul's muscle bulged at the seams. His body was now that of an off-season bodybuilder; massive quantities of fat and muscle combined. He looked fucking hot. Not everyone's taste, though.
"How's life been treating you?" Sinclair said with a grin.
"What do you think?" Paul said irritatingly.
"I think Kevin did a fine job. He molded you into something. I might have gone a different direction, but I like that he did it. Shows his character."
"Turn around. Let me take a look at you." Paul's back had deep scars. Deeper than Joe could even imagine. "You've been tortured a lot. Did you like it?"
"Sometimes. I liked it more when I didn't understand I was not wholly to blame for our separation. Once Kevin forced me to see it from another perspective, the torture hurt more than it was pleasurable.
"You never answered me. What are you doing here?" Paul insisted.
"I came to apologize. I was not a good Master to you. I let you go. I didn't fight you. If I had to do it over again, I would aggressively pursue you until you were mine. I love you. Not like Joe. But I fucked up the magic between the four of us as well. A master can fuck up. I'm telling you I fucked up." Sinclair stated.
"Thank you, but what good does it do now? I'm in the fucking desert. I miss you. I miss Joe. We aren't going to be around forever, you stupid asshole. Only you can change the direction. You're the fucking Master." Paul could care less if he got whipped for his attitude. He stated what he wanted to say regardless of consequence.
Sinclair responded. "You're right."
Paul reluctantly smiled.
"Good. Go over to your quarters and go to bed. We will see you for dinner." Sinclair walked away. Paul went right to sleep in the bed.
A few hours later, the four of them sat together around a table in a way they hadn't experienced in a long time. Joe noticed both Kevin and Sinclair looked haggard: Kevin especially. He was shocked at the sight of Paul but turned on at the same time. It was an uncomfortable meal. The spark was gone between the four of them. Joe thought, 'we should all have stayed together even if that meant coming to this hellhole. I miss what we had.'
"Kevin, you know you don't need this place anymore. Are you addicted to it? There's more than enough for you to retire." Sinclair said with irony because of his addiction to destroying men's lives.
"I'm not willing to quit, yet. I don't know why." Kevin responded.
"I want to," Paul said. "I want to leave. I would like for us to be under Sinclair's rule. I want out, Kevin, but I will not leave you either if you want to stay."
"What about you, Joe?" Sinclair asked.
"I never stopped being under your rule. I want Paul and Kevin back. I always have. It might never be the way it was, but we could move somewhere else and start something new. I don't know what it would be. There's always a new adventure." Joe always stated the optimist from his slave mind.
Kevin said, "I will think about it. Let's change the subject. So how's your new pet?"
This one question lightened the room. The air cleared, and the four laughed and joked the rest of the evening, talking about slaves, their pet, etc. They made light of a problematic situation.
"Bye. Make a decision Kevin." Sinclair said as he and Joe got back in the car to return to Sky Harbor Airport. Paul, Scott, and Kevin
waved goodbye until there was just a cloud of dust and no car.
Sinclair took Joe out to dinner. When Sinclair got into a romantic mood, he went all out. Fantastic dinner, long stroll through the City of Lights, holding hands, looking into each other's eyes, piercing the veil of their souls.
Upon return, Joe instructed the slaves to be completely quiet in their room. There were severe consequences for making a noise while Joe and Sinclair made love. The instructions were the home must feel as if no one else is in the house.
Joe was fully expecting some sort of hot, masculine slave/Master sex. None of that occurred. Sinclair started in such a way Joe knew they were having plain old vanilla, fuck/suck, kiss sex. What Joe was not prepared for with the level of tenderness and care Sinclair brought to the party. Joe was treated as a god in Sinclair's eyes this night.
"Baby, this is how we are going to cum tonight. You are going to fuck me, so I have your seed in my hole. Then, I am going to fuck you, so you have my seed in your hole." Sinclair whispered into Joe's ear.
That night they slept with each other babies inside, both smiling as they fell asleep spooned in each other's arms.
"Good morning, Sinclair. I've got a croissant and coffee." Joe brought the tray into the bedroom. He leaned over and shook Sinclair since he hadn't awakened.
"Sinclair. Wake up. Sinclair?"
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