Chapter Four
I'm finding that I can't stop thinking about Vic mentioning my "resale value," and of all the thing that's been happening to me since Friday night, this is the one thing that I'm having trouble accepting, the one thing that is, to tell you the truth, pissing me off. Big time. More than anything else it makes me feel like I'm nothing but a piece of property in the eyes of these men, a piece of property that has a monetary value placed on my head, and the knowledge that, like the slaves of old, I could simply be bought and sold by a group of men who have all the power in this sub-society, men who like to play these types of games and who take them very seriously indeed.
It's not turning me on. It's just pissing me off that I've walked into all this naively, almost completely ignorant of the consequences of agreeing to all this shit. I never realized what it would mean in the long run. I'm not Gabriel's special "boy," I'm property. I'm just someone—no, something that he's toying with not merely for cheap sexual pleasure but for someone who is part of his—fuck, I hate to say it but it's true—part of his financial profile, just as there's a value to the car he drives and to this house he owns.
A thing. A commodity. A possession. Even lower than a pet. Pets are seldom traded to others for money. Sure, they might be given away for any number of reasons, but I've never heard of someone selling their dog to someone else. I'm lower than that. Everything Gabriel might do to me, every thing he might succeed in training me to do and to accept, all of it increases MY FUCKING VALUE.
I simply can't shake this. Vic takes my face in his hands then probes my mouth with his fingers. I can tell he's a cigarette smoker. Blah! I literally spit out his stinking finger and turn away. Enough! "NO!!!" I shout out—scream out, even, and look to escape from the room, but I can't get away. Gabriel is standing in the doorway blocking my escape.
Trapped!!!!!
Vic holds up his hand and apologies, NOT to me but to Gabriel. "Sorry, man," he says. "Guess I went too far, scared the fag away."
Another thing that I realize is pissing me off is that these guys call me "fag" and "faggot," and yet they're as queer as I am. So what's the fucking deal here?
For the first time in my life I realize how intolerably horrible the lives of slaves has been throughout history. Okay, I haven't had to stand naked on an auction block—at least not YET, but is this all replicating the horrors that so many innocent men, women and children have been forced to live through, not only the Blacks in in this country, but conquered peoples throughout history and, from what we've been told, people who are going through the same terrible thing throughout the world even now.
And here we are, fucking PLAYING at all this? But wait! ARE WE PLAYING AT THIS? How many times over the past few days, especially back when I was "on display" on a platform in that office Rusty dragged me to, have I tried to make sense out of what was happening to me, wondering, fearing, terrified that this is all actually REAL, that there is no escape from this, wondering whether or not I still have to option to walk away from it all saying, "Hey thanks, guys, this was a lot of fun, but I've had enough. I'm done for now. Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm just done with all this shit."
SHIT! I have no one to blame for all this but myself. I'm the one who's gone along with it all, even forced myself to hang in there through some pretty disgusting situations just to find out what would come next. And now, it's come to this. The more I'm willing to accept and endure, the more I'm willing to tolerate, the more things Gabriel can manage to get me to do, the more he can raise my threshholds and get me to take more than I ever could before, the more the mark over my head—my VALUE—increases.
Money can actually change hands as I'm turned over from one Master to another and taken God knows where. I remember what it felt like when I was tied down in the back of that truck as it drove along for what felt like hours having absolutely no idea where I was being taken or what would happen to me when the truck arrived where it was going.
And fuck it, it was an amazing head trip. Like Gabriel got me to understand when I was bound naked to a chair in that interview office, that it's mostly about me having fun.
And now I'm standing here, the only naked person in the room, and they're both staring at me. "If it were up to me," Vic says to Gabriel, "I'd fucking take a cane to this bitch and stripe it from its neck to its knees. Beat some sense into it. Show it what's up."
"Let me ask you something, Vic," says Gabriel. "Have you ever really had a slave of your own for more than just a couple hours. Have you ever really OWNED one of these boys for more than a weekend? How many of these boys have you ever broken in and trained? Has you ever caned a sub even with 6 strokes in the past to find out what it does to the sub's body in the long run?"
"Okay, okay, I get your point, Gabe. I just like to talk like a rough Master but I don't really have any real experience to back it up. I get it. Sorry for getting carried away."
"Well, then, I've got this fellow here who is obviously pissed off, confused, and not sure what to do next. Do you really think that if I beat this kid right now it will break his spirit and make him remember that he's nothing but a slave?"
"I guess not. It looks like the kid's gonna high tail it out of here now."
"Yes, and if I treated it the way you think I should, that would be the end of things. I'd destroy this kid for any further bdsm experiences."
"so then, what are you going to do, Gabe, just let the boy get away?"
"If that's what he decides to do, yes, I will. But If you promise to just sit back and listen and observe and not have anything at all to say, Vic, I'll let you stick around and find out how a real Dom handles this type of situation."
All this time I'm kind of frozen on the spot and just listening to the conversation these two guys are having. Gabriel is still standing in the doorway and I've given up trying to get past him. And then when I hear him describe me as "pissed off, confused, and not sure what to do next," I realized that he understood what I'm going through. Okay. The only thing he did to let me down was leave me alone with this Vic guy. Vic is the one who pissed me off, not Gabriel.
I take a heavy breath and just stand there, now unwilling to look up. So Gabriel speaks to me in his calming voice. "That's a good boy, terry. Feel yourself calming, relaxing. You're safe with me. You've already found that out, boy. Everything's gonna be okay. If you decide you really want to leave, that will be fine. But just relax now and find out if I can take care of you even though you're about to quit everything you worked for."
FUCK! He's right. I've working for something, trying to get somewhere, and he's just about the only person so far who I think can really help me find out what I'm all about and what it means to be able to trust a Master. And do you know what? It's worth a shot.
"Can I hug you, sport?" he asks me and I nod my head. Next thing I know I'm in his arms and embarrassed because I'm all sweaty now, but he doesn't seem to mind it. He holds me and strokes my back. "Your pulse is still racing. Let's just stay here like this until it slows down. Is it okay here or do you need to get off your feet?" I don't answer him, I just tighten my arms around him and lay my head on his chest.
"You didn't break away from my friend here because of what he was trying to do to you. You had already reached the point where you couldn't be handled any longer. Something had really upset you and it took you right out of that slave space you enjoy experiencing so much. I'd like it if you could tell what upset you. If you need me to, I'll just ask Vic to leave us alone right now if that will help you be able to tell me what's on your mind."
Again I don't say anything because I'm afraid I'll break down crying if I do. I just nod my head again.
"Vic, I'm sorry, but I need you to leave now. I'll tough base with you over the next couple days once I figure out what's going to happen here." Vic says he understands and quickly takes his leave. I can't help but breathe a sigh of relief when I realize he's gone.
"Why don't we just go and sit down and then we'll chat if you want to. If at any time you decide you want to leave here, that will be fine. I'll make sure I get you back to campus." He puts his hand to the small of my back and gently brings me over to the couch.
I sit down and even remember to keep my legs spread. I can feel myself settling down. I also realize how good Gabriel is being to me and that helps a lot. It would really be hard to leave now. My heart tells me I want to be here with him and let him take care of me.
He chuckles. "What?" I ask. "You're such a good boy. Despite the fact you're so upset, and might even be thinking of leaving, you're still sitting with your legs spread the way I trained you to do." I force out a chuckle myself.
"I guess that means something," I say.
"Everything means something, Terry. That's what I'm trying to help you understand. This is as much about the mind as about anything else. You just proved it. Something knocked your mind a blow and because of that, you had no tolerance for being treated like a sub. And yet, here you are, showing me how trainable you are. Your legs betray you, sport. Your legs told me that part of you still needs to become a slave and that this might be your best opportunity."
"For real or for play?"
"Is that what's bothering you, sport?"
"That's only a part of it, Sir."
"Then relax until you're ready to tell me the rest of it, boy. Your mind has to eventually become as naked as your body, boy. It doesn't happen as easily. These things all take time and both Dom and sub always have to be patient or everything quickly gets ruined."
Silence, but a comfortable silence. I'm still keeping my eyes lowered but after a while I feel relaxed enough to raise them so I can at least look at his lips and notice he's still looking benevolent. Finally I'm able to reach his eyes. "You're a good boy, sport." He says to me. "And you've done nothing wrong."
Finally I can get the words out. "Resale value. Vic mentioned that I have a resale value."
He says nothing but maintains his friendly manner until I can explain more about it.
"I'm just property, like even a used car. I have financial value on this slave market even though it's all make believe. And now I can't shake the fact that you can easily just turn around and sell me to someone else. After all, didn't you say that you bought me from the others?"
"I never said that, Terry. Maybe you thought it, but it isn't what happened. Many of us in the scene are friends, and we look out for one another by keeping a lookout for the types of subs we enjoy. We're all different. We all have different styles and needs and ways of dealing with subs. There is an infinite amount of variety to all of it. And so we are all matchmakers in one sense. So the guys you had gotten involved with knew the type of boy I've been looking for, so when they realized more about what you could tolerate and what your submissiveness was like, they knew you weren't what they were looking for but that you might be someone I would enjoy working with myself. And so that's why you were sent to me. But no mention was made of me buying you."
"Oh. I think I just assumed it myself. Okay. But what about when Vic talked about my resale value. Is that really something? If I keep up with this, do I become some kind of commodity that you could actually make money from?"
He laughs. "Sport, I promise you that I will never at any time be interested in selling you to anyone else for money. I don't do things like that. I know some do, but it's not nearly as prevalent as you might imagine. In fact, it's incredibly rare."
"Oh. Well, that's a relief. But Vic.."
"Sport, were you aware of the conversation I was having with him? Vic has no real experience in building a relationship with a sub. He's what we call a scene-player,. just like most of the guys who hang around the Hunt, just looking for short-term adventures, usually very short-term in places like that. As for Rusty and his friends, they play seriously and as you found out, they play hard."
"Too hard for me."
"Precisely. So once they realized it wouldn't work out with you, Rusty gave me a call and told me that he had someone who might be the kind of boy I'm looking for. I agreed to check it out. That's why he had you sent to the offices so I could interview you."
I chuckle. "But you said Rusty `procured' me for you."
"Oh damn! I guess I should be more careful about the vocabulary I use when speaking to a novice slave. I didn't mean what you assumed it meant. He sent you to me thinking you might be what I'm looking for. And if you weren't, sport, I'd already have made arrangements for someone else to take a look at you. But I haven't done that, sport, and I have no intentions of passing you along to anyone else unless you decide you don't want to be my slave."
"To be honest with you, I'm kind of thinking I would like to train you to be my slave. I think it's what you need and what will ultimately make you happy. But sport, there's nothing vile about it at all. Nothing sinister. And I don't attach any kind of value to your head. I want to try this with you. If it doesn't work out, then we'll find someone else who will be more suitable. You're not an item at a slave market, sport, not at all, and you never will be."
"But that does happen?"
"I guess. Anything can happen. But I have no experience of it myself so I can't say for sure. Nonetheless, it sure can be part of a hot fantasy for some guys if not a reality."
"Okay. Thank you for taking the trouble to explain all this to me. I realize I have a lot to learn."
"We're all learning, sport. Doms as well as subs. For example, today I learned never to leave my slave along with someone I haven't vetted and trust. I also learned to be more careful about what vocabulary I use around boys who are new to the scene. So you see? We all have things to learn. What matters is whether or not we're WILLING to learn. That's what makes all the difference."
"And I'm willing to learn, Sir. With you, though. Just with you for now."
"I'm glad to hear it. So now tell me if you can, what can we do to help you get back into the space you've been seeking? Give it some thought and let me know."
Silence.
Then finally, I slide off the couch onto the floor, bow down and kiss his feet. I can hear his inhalation and that tells me he's pleased with the symbolism I'm showing him, since that is part of our common language. I can still smell traces of his shower this morning and realize that I'm really kind of stinky myself. For the first time in quite a while, I just lose myself in what I'm doing and not let my mind wander off somewhere else. Maybe I'm learning to be a well-focused slaveboy.
"I'd really like you to suck my cock, sport."
That's all for now. Write me at subkodak25@gmail.com and let me know your reactions to this.
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Rob