THE ALEX SERIES, BOOK 3: "Brandon's Bosses"
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Chapter 50a. The Bosses Consult
"So once again Gary intervened for Brandon`s sake, and I have to tell you that the young man made a lot of sense and called my attention to something I hadn't realized," says Steven to the others.
"And what was that?" asked Ned, "and what do you make of this interference by the young upstart?
"Ned I chose my words carefully. I didn't say he interfered but rather that he intervened. There is a considerable difference. He called my attention to the fact that our earlier decision to use the boy as a member of our staff—which, by the way, is working out very well; his performance is superlative—and also as a slave under our continual jurisdiction and discipline, has turned out to be flawed and somewhat unworkable."
"Why do you say that, Steven," asks Kelton. "I rather enjoyed having access to the slave during his working day and took a considerable amount of pleasure from the young tyke."
"Wait a minute!" interjects Frank. "You mean to tell me that you were using him during work hours to satisfy your own horny urges?"
"I didn't see anything wrong with that, and, of course, the slave, being the slut that it is, was quite willing to offer its ass to me in return for my bringing it a nice lunch," protested Kelton.
"But," says Steven, "Gary pointed out to me the fact that although it was our intention to keep the boy as a staff member and also a slave when it suited us, there have been considerable problems keeping the two separate from one another, and recent events have indicated that the boy was beginning to crack under the pressure—which is all our fault because we didn't keep the lines clean between the two."
"How so," asks Ned.
"At 9 am, the employee---and I stress that word---logs into the system to get his assignments. Perfectly acceptable. BUT, what do we see when we gaze at him."
"A humbled slave, naked and on its knees," says Frank.
"Precisely. So immediately, at the very first moment of the day, the two roles have already collapsed into one another," explains Steven.
"I think he's on to something," admits Kelton.
"This is what Gary was objecting to in the boy's favor, suggesting that it was inappropriate and confusing, and the boy really ended up seeing itself as nothing more than a slave who was being given a stipend to do some work during the day. And yet, even while it worked, it was required to be naked at all times and available to any one of who wished to use it sexually or administer corporal punishment whenever we chose."
"Ah!" says Frank.
"Ah!" says Kelton.
"So what is the solution?" asks Ned.
"Well, explains Steven, I think a solution has been presented to us rather nicely. Gary is the solution."
"How so?" asks Ned.
"Gary is clearly in love with the boy. They have been friends almost all their lives. Gary, while maintaining the myth that he is straight, has been using the boy as a cocksucker since they were in high school on a regular basis. Now Gary has escaped the situation he was in at school, his parents have disowned him, and he's moved in with Brandon, which is like a dream come true for both of them. It is only a matter of time . . ."
". . . it has already happened," says Kelton. "One could see the clear evidence when the two boys met with us this morning. And then Gary brought him to his therapist appointment, and Gary brought him home, I wouldn't be surprised if Gary has finally admitted that Brandon is the object of his sexual lust and his romantic notions. And if it hasn't happened already it is bound to happen very soon."
"I happen to be going over there tonight, My intention was to bring the slave home and put it through its paces and lock it up for the night, but I don't think that will be possible considering the fact that Gary is laying claim to him. that was damn clear to me this morning during our usual meeting."
"Steven, you say it was your intention. Has that changed?"
"Yes. I simply don't feel it is right. Let's face it, fellows, brandon is a treasure for us. We have a mutually beneficial professional arrangement with him which I insist be maintained at all costs. As for considering him to be our slave, that idea hasn't worked well at all, and, of course, there are other more agreeable young subs at our disposal."
"To be perfectly honest," says Frank, "I have found my own about a month ago and I was just playing along with this situation because that is what you guys wanted. I have no interest in using Brandon as a slave any longer."
"You can count me out as well," adds Ned.
"I've enjoyed the boy," admits Kelton, "but I have two of mine at home and they are suffering a painful amount of neglect since I've been exploring my relationship with the scribe. I would be perfectly willing to forego any claim I have to the boy. I've got more than enough to deal with at home."
"That simply leaves me," says Steven, and I must confess that I've become quite fond of the boy and have even felt there was a possibility for something more emotional between the two of us. I've been very tough on the slave and it has surrendered and submitted as only the very best subs do, but since Gary's come back to Lipton and in light of the conversations I've been having with him, I realize that my designs on the boy's heart are in vain. This leaves me in the lurch, but that's fine. It won't take long for me to find what I have discovered I need: a love interest with a submissive, hopefully a collared slave to love. Ruling over Brandon has had its effect on me. I'm determined to find a suitable replacement for him, one I can keep with me at all times, perhaps use as some sort of assistant, one I can train and discipline to my liking and keep caged at night whenever I wish."
"So you said you were planning to go over there tonight," says Frank.
"yes, and if you are all agreeable, rather than making use of the boy, I intend to set it free and give it to Gary lock, stock and barrel."
All agree. "I have another concern, however," says Kelton, "and that is that Gary has no experience as either a Dom or a Master. We all know that Brandon has very deep-seated masochistic and submissive needs. I don't see how that relationship could possible work out in the long run."
"Don't worry about that, Kelton," says Steven. "I'll offer whatever help I can, and I suspect that in time the two of them will find their way. After all, look at what's happened with Brandon`s housemate and our friend Oscar. That is remarkable, to be sure."
"And of course, since they all are so close to one another, what Oscar is learning might easily in turn come to Gary's assistance."
"Precisely," says Steven, "although I will offer whatever assistance they may require, if they are inclined to seek it from me. And if not, that is fine as well because I've got some hunting to do now."
"I have one further interest," says Ned. "Should we hire Gary?"
"Absolutely not," says Frank. "If we were to do that, we'll end up with the same kind of conflict and confusion that we're trying to address now. I say let the fellow find his own suitable situation. I know Barry is not going to let him go without employment."
"Wise words, Frank," says Steven. "I'll convey our good wishes tonight and tomorrow morning we can look forward to having our talented scribe on hand without any other conflicting circumstances. Gentlemen, thank you, as always, for your good spirit and cooperation. Together we usually do manage to find our way out of any difficulties."
They all sign off, wishing each other well.
Chapter 50 b. Conor's Story
"Please, no more Master, he cries, tears rolling down his cheeks. His inner thighs are black and blue almost everywhere, but still the Master demands 4 more blows with the thick wooden spoon.
"You have got to learn to move beyond pain, you worthless slave. Why would I want to be bothered with you when you continue to disappoint me at the most important moments of your training," the hard voice comes to him through the speaker of his laptop. "Now is the moment when you demonstrate your desire to become my slave. I know it hurts, boy. Show me what you are worth, if you're worth anything at all. Four more blows, two on each thigh. I'll count for you. ONE. Conor beats himself and screams out his pain, choking on his tears. TWO. Again the trainee beats himself, ready to beg the Master not to give up on him after so much has happened, after so many months of humiliation and pain and effort to prove to this awesome Master that he would be a good slave. THREE. He tries to beat himself but the implement slips. DO THAT AGAIN. THREE! He lands a good blow and continues to choke on tears and phlegm. FOUR! The last blow is the most painful of all, and Conor sits on the ground with the screen set up so that the Master can see that he is indeed doing what he's been ordered to do, gasping for breath and his sobs giving way to the embarrassing hiccups.
"It took some work on my part, slave, but you have pleased me at last. I will take pity on you. You may remove any six clothespins you choose, and cry out "thank You, Master," as the pain hits when you remove each one." The boy does as told, but there are still six more to go and he thinks that he is finally reaching what the Master calls the "space beyond the pain."
The Master is pleased. "Let's give you some refreshment. Take up the glass of your piss and drink down half of it now, Conor. Hurry. Gulp it down quickly the way I like you to do. Then you may remove the other clothespins." The boy drinks and gulps and hopes that he will not have to vomit after the Master is done with him tonight. "Okay, slave, strip those pins off your flesh. But don't open them up. PULL them off. Each one. And thank Me for setting your free." This is the part that Conor hates the most, but he date not disappoint the Master, especially since they will soon be meeting and he will finally be collared and locked into his new life as a slave. He savagely tears the pins from his body, choking our his gratitude to this Master who has been training him for four months now, four nights a week.
He had placed an ad on a bdsm website. "19yo boy seeks online training as a total slave, possibility of future in person ownership. Please, Master, take me and help me find what I seek." He attached a picture of himself in a jockstrap, all 5'8 of him. chest shaved bare. That very same night, not long after he posted the ad, he received a response. "Where do you live, slave?"
"Florida, Master."
"Take off the jockstrap and send me a picture of what is hiding behind it."
Conor snaps the pic and sends it.
"A true blond. I like what I see. But why haven't you shaved yourself?"
"Master, I just began this and thought that maybe a Master would enjoy watching me do it."
The Master sends him a link to a different server where they won't be interrupted by anyone else.
"Tomorrow night make sure you have what you need available so I can watch you strip those blond pubes off your body, slave. What is your name?"
"Conor, Master."
"Good name for a slave. I like it. You can keep it, boy."
"thank you, Master."
"Always capitalize the word You when speaking to me, boy."
"Sorry, Master."
"That requires punishment. What do you have available to use on yourself?"
"A leather strap and a wooden spoon, Master."
"Let me see you give yourself two lashes, slave, one across each nipple. Do it now."
Conor beats himself and cries out.
And that is how it began, almost four months ago. The Master promised that if the slave showed promise, He would allow it to present itself to Him right after the first of the year. They spent many hours talking and Conor found himself really liking this Master, who sent him an amazing photo with him dressed in leather and holding a whip in his hand, but that is all he ever saw of the Master. At each session the picture was displayed but nothing more. Meanwhile the Master had a full view of the slave's body and of the various things He had trained it to do, systematically, and as time went on, the beatings and other forms of pain continued to get more severe. Conor told Him all about his life, about his drug addict mother and his father in prison. After graduating high school, he took a job as a stockboy in a big box store and had done well there and was now serving as an assistant manager. The Master instructed him to save as much money as possible, for he would have to pay for his own transportation should the Master decide he was worth owning. Conor locked himself in a basement room and paid very little attention to his mother's antics, although three times already he had been raped by one of her "boyfriends," and despite the horror of it all, realized that he took perverse pleasure in it. He read as much bdsm literature he could find for free on line, and finally got the guts to place an ad offering himself, wondering what might happen.
A lot happened, the same night he put up the ad. That was at the beginning of October, and that was the beginning of his new life as a slave-in-training. Shortly before Christmas, the Master told Conor that He had decided to claim the slave as his own, and at that point, the training intensified so that the potential slave could prove to the Master that he was ready and worthy. For three weeks now he had been drinking his own urine, and many nights had not had to vomit after doing it. He was black and blue in so many places that he was a walking body of pain, but he discovered that he was a true pain pig.
Mostly, the Master was pleased with his performance. Conor stopped spending any money on himself other than the meager meals he ate. On nights when the Master did not require his service, he stayed in and read the things he could find on line, looked at porn on Twitter, and jerked off quite readily until the Master required he order a chastity cage on line and then lock himself into it. That was three weeks ago. The Master told him that he should understand that for a slave like him, orgasms were few and far between.
Finally, tonight, after the most painful session he had ever undergone, the Master finally told the boy that He has decided to claim him for Himself. He revealed that He lived in a town called Lipton, several states away and told the slave that the town was quite gay-friendly and also kink friendly and that many Masters, Doms, subs and slaves lived in the area and frequently found places to get together for mutual explorations of sado-masochism. The Master told Conor to expect to suck cock on a regular basis and that the Master would share him with friends and acquaintances through a special website called "gayslavemarket," which was unique to the area. Finally the time came. Conor was instructed to quit his job, close his bank account and bring the cash with him. He was to wear one pair of jeans, a warm shirt and sneakers without socks. Nothing more. Most of the time when he was with the Master, he would be kept naked. The Master helped the boy plan his trip by bus. It would take about 18 hours between riding on the bus and waiting for connections.
Finally, the day came. Conor dressed as instructed and left all of his other clothes behind. He could take his phone and laptop with the understanding that he would rarely have access to them once he was collared and owned. They had one last session on line and Conor was instructed to raise welts on his ass and his back with the leather strap that had been the source of so much torment over the past few months. When the bus arrived in Lipton, on about 11 pm on Monday night, Conor was to call the number the Master had given him and he would make arrangements for the boy to be picked up by one of his friends. He was to strip naked in the friend's car and give him a blow job on the way to the Master's home. The friend, whose name was Craig, would deliver the naked slave to the Master's den and it would be flogged and then spit-roasted by the two of them, it would drink their piss and then it would be collared and begin his formal training as an owned, collared and locked slave boy subject to the Master's will and discipline.
Conor had trouble sleeping the night before he was to leave. They had wisely arranged for the boy to leave on an early bus because that was the best way to avoid having to deal with his mother, since she would most likely be passed out somewhere. Early the next morning, hardly awake, he dressed as he was instructed and took a cab to the bus station. Before long, he was on his way to his new life, and fell asleep shortly after the bus began the first leg of his voyage.
The bus arrived in Lipton at 10:52 pm on Monday night. Conor quickly got off the bus, went into the station to relieve himself and noticed a tall well-built man loitering around the men's room, but thought nothing of it. As soon as he left the men's room, with trembling hands, he called the number the Master had given him. It had been disconnected. Frantic, he took out his laptop and luckily there was WiFi in the bus station. He went to connect to the link to where they met over the past several months, only to discover that it, too, was now out of service.
What a horrible thing to happen to the poor kid! He'd been ghosted by a scam artist who probably posted videos of his self torture all over the Internet. How could anyone be so cruel, so sadistic, so fucking sick? So there he was, in two soiled and now smelly pieces of clothing, in a town in the middle of nowhere, alone, frightened, heart-broken and homeless late at night. He couldn't help himself. He sat on the floor outside the bus station and began to keen and sob like a lost kitten. Footsteps approached. He saw the boots. It was the man from the men's room. The man knelt down next to him and said, "you poor boy, what happened to you?" The boy tried to tell his sad story in the midst of tears and sobs, but didn't make much sense. The only thing the man could understand what the word "ghosted," that the boy repeated several times.
"Come with me, kid. Let's get something to eat and when you calm down a bit you can tell me your story so I can understand it. Then, if you put out, I'll bring you over my cousin's place and we'll all have ourselves some fun together. How does that sound?" What did Conor have to lose? "Okay, Sir, thank you for coming to my assistance. I'll do whatever you want. I'm very submissive."
"All the better, kid. My cousin Frank has a special taste for subs like you. What's your name?"
"Conor, Sir."
"My name is Sammy, but you can keep calling me Sir. I like that."
"Yes, Sir. Good to meet you, Sir. Thank you again, Sir."
Sammy decided they'd eat at his cousin Frank's and soon they were on their way. He called ahead to Frank to let him know what was up, and when they got there, Frank had grilled cheese sandwiches and fresh coffee waiting for them. Once Conor had something to eat he had calmed down sufficiently to tell them his story and how he had been lured to Lipton by some sick bastard who'd been working him over on line for several months, then made him quit his job and come to Lipton to become his slave, but once he got into town he discovered that he'd been ghosted. The boy definitely gave TMI; far too naïve and trusting. But he'd come to the right place.
"You've been traveling for almost a whole day now and those are all the clothes you have, boy?"
"Yes, Sir. That's what I was ordered to wear and nothing else."
"Well take them off, Conor. I'll put them in the wash for you. You say you're a sub and want to become a slave, so strip. Let us see what you have to offer, boy." Conor quickly got his clothes off. Sammy and Frank were saddened to see the state of the boy's body and how severely he had been tricked into beating himself. Conor asked for permission to remove the cage and of course they agreed. He had the key on a long string so he wouldn't lose it. Frank took the key from him and released his cock, noting that it was a really nice one.
"Look, Conor, considering the state of your body right now, I think it best that you soak yourself in the tub in some Epsom salts. That will help with the bruising. Then we'll do something about getting you set up for some sleep. We're not going to use you tonight. You've had enough. I promise you that things will be looking better in the morning." Sammy decides to leave and he knows that Conor is going to be safe and comfortable for the immediate future.
While Conor is soaking in the tub, Frank calls his associate Steven. "Hey, buddy, you said earlier tonight that you were going to start hunting. That might not be necessary. A little angel dropped out of the sky and landed on my front porch tonight. You're not going to believe this." And he told Steven the story the boy told him. Steven said he'd be over first thing in the morning so look the kid over and see what can be done to solve his dilemma.
Conor comes out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel and thanks Frank for the new toothbrush. "Okay, boy, I think the best thing now is for you to get yourself some sleep. I'll give you a choice: you can either sleep in my guest room by yourself, or, if you'd feel safe, you can sleep with me and I'll hold you in my arms if you'd like. Nothing sexual is going to happen tonight. Tomorrow another friend is coming over who just happens to be looking for a new slaveboy, so who knows? Maybe it's for the best that the creep you've been on line with decided to ghost you. Everything always works out for the best, I always say."
Conor decides to sleep in Frank's arms. For the first time, he is no longer alone. He sleeps with a newly found hope. He sleeps with kindness.
And yes, indeed. Everything did work out for the best. For Conor. For Steven. For Gary and his boyfriend.