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Story codes: M, MM, bd, sm, exhib
The Downward Spiral of Jim – Chapter Eleven
My fortieth birthday was rapidly approaching. I became more self-absorbed than ever. Most men reflect on their life at this stage. I was no different and the thoughts were no different. Did I make good choices? No. Was I true to myself? No. Had my marriage been successful? No. Was my career on the path that I thought it would be? No. Was I in love with my mate? No.
I became more sullen and distant from the cop. I always obeyed, though. I enthusiastically did my duties including my requisite getting fucked or sucking daily because my one salvation was that I enjoyed being a slave. I still lusted after the cop and his incredible body; however, the fact that he would never let me touch it became more difficult to bear.
The other challenge going on was my continued fascination with my Master's best friend, Rick. The cop invited Rick over to the house more often. Each time it was much the same experience. They hung out naked watching baseball. Rick always left the house giving me a prolonged kiss holding my naked butt and me getting a massive hard on. I felt as if I was falling in love with Rick. Since I had determined I had never been in love with any man I had been in a relationship with, the thought scared me. I felt more and more that I was incapable of love. My role in life was only to be of service to superior men.
Rick and the cop had a captivation with baseball. The more I watched, the more I understood what was going on. Rick and my Master took it to different levels. They loved the game. They loved the beauty of it. They also loved the beauty of the men. I may not know much about sports, but I can categorically say that baseball players are the most gorgeous men on the planet. Unlike in other sports, they come in all shapes and sizes. There are huge guys. There are little guys. There is a position for each type, as long as the man is athletic and smart. It is much more democratic than other sports where you have to be huge to play football, tall to play basketball, thin and wiry to play soccer, rough to play hockey or rugby. I did start sneaking in day games when the cop was at work jacking off to the catcher squatting or the handsome ace on the mound. It was a diversion from the wrestlers and power lifters of ESPN.
One night at the door, Rick asked, "Jim, your birthday is coming up. I would like to take you out to lunch. It won't be on the actual day; however, I would enjoy spending some time with you."
I responded, "But what about my Master? He would never approve."
Rick reassured, "Jim, I'm his best friend. He never says no to me. He will be cool with it, trust me. But, I wanted to ask you before I approached him. I wanted to make sure you wanted to first."
I said, "Well, I would love to go out to lunch with you, Rick. You are so kind to me. I hesitate to go with you because I already have feelings for you and I don't want to upset the apple cart."
"I know you do, Jim. I have feelings for you as well, but my only motivation is that of being a friend on his birthday."
I agreed, "Ok, Rick. If you can deal with the cop, I will be willing to go out to lunch with you. Thank you for being so kind and my friend."
Rick kissed me deep sticking his tongue down my throat while pulling me close to his huge body. The man was so big he could envelop me. He made me weak at the knees. No man had ever made me feel this way. Yes, I could be weak at the knees for sucking and servicing most any man; however, Rick was no ordinary man, nor was my weakness a feeling of desirous to be submissive to him. Yes, I was the beta male in our friendship, yet, the service, submissive, slave energy did not exist with him. If love was what I was feeling for Rick, then this was the reason. I still wasn't entirely sure what my feelings meant. I had no one to bounce my thoughts off. I had no friends other than Rick. My world revolved around Master.
In fact, I didn't understand why the cop was letting me even have the slightest relationship with Rick. He forbade me without saying to have friends. How can one have friends with a restricted and monitored phone? This must be another one of my Master's sick mind-fuck games. If it were, I would just have to play along until I understood what the cop was pointing out about me.
If this wasn't enough to deal with, the cop started to change our relationship. One night at dinner, he told me something that hurt my feelings so much I cried myself to sleep that night.
"Faggot, I have moved your doggy bed into the guest bedroom."
"Sir, may I speak?"
"Yes, faggot."
"Why did you move my bed? I like being with you, Sir." My voice cracked as I said it. I was doing everything to hold back my tears.
The cop answered, "I want some privacy."
With that, the cop got up from the table and went to what had been our bedroom. I sat at the table dumfounded with tears streaming down my face. What had happened? Was it Rick's invitation? I had not heard anything more about lunch with Rick. Was the cop having second thoughts about our marriage? Did he not like being in an unrequited love relationship? Was he tired of me?
These were all legitimate questions that in a normal relationship would be freely asked. In a Master/slave relationship, I had no say. I had to go with whatever my Master's wishes were. Not being able to talk freely was a part I hated about being a slave. Even though I finally figured out I was a slave to David, at least we talked about everything. My God, big man in prison told me everything that was going on with him and vice versa.
The cop was different. He never talked about his feelings. Yes, there were times when he gave a little, such as when he declared his love for me at our wedding. There was that moment he kissed me on the forehead after he took me to suck cock at the rest area. There was our honeymoon night where he allowed me to jack off while sucking his nipples. But, that was about it. Master would complement me about my meals, the way I kept the house, how I behaved for him in public, and how hot my body was. Thinking about all that made me realize that he was doing the best he could. Maybe my sullen and spoiled faggot attitude finally got the best of him. Maybe that is why he moved me out of our bedroom.
Next, Master stopped fucking me. I couldn't suck my Master's cock. We went an entire week without him wanting my sexual service.
Over breakfast one morning, the cop said to me, "Rick tells me he invited you to lunch for your birthday."
I was so hesitant with Master at this point I could hardly speak, "Yes, Sir."
"What do you feel about that request, faggot?" Master asked.
"Sir, it is not up to me." I responded.
Master slapped me across the face, "Asshole, I know it is not up to you. That wasn't my question. I asked you how you felt about it."
"Yes, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir. My feelings are that I am scared to talk to you about it. I would like to go to lunch with Rick. He is a nice man. He likes me and I like him."
"I know you do, faggot. And, I know why you are scared to talk to me. You think you are in love with him, don't you?" Master prodded.
"Sir, I may be. I know that I have never been in love with anyone I have been in a relationship with. That is why I say maybe because I don't know what love is. I only know what it isn't. It hurts so bad to know that you love me and I don't love you back. I wish I could change that. You have done so much for me. I like being your slave. I like our life together. I like you..." I started to cry.
"It hurts me too, faggot. I respect you, though, for not pretending to love me. That would be worse."
Sir got up from the table leaving me alone again. That was the end of our heart-to-heart talk. The cop's cock was hard as a rock as he stood. Did this challenge excite him? Why didn't he fuck me? Why didn't he make me suck him off? Always before in our relationship, he would make me do that. He enjoyed taking his frustrations out on me by his sexual abuse. That was a portion of our agreement. Part of my duties as his slave was to help him relieve the tension of life. Why not now? He obviously was sexually aroused. I'm sure he wanted release. What's wrong with me? What's wrong with me giving him that release? That's my job.
The cop had the day off. We were going to the gym right after breakfast. I finished the dishes. I got on my gym clothes. On the way to the gym, the cop said one final thing about the morning conversation, "Faggot, I want you to have lunch with my friend."
"Thank you, Sir."
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