The Nerdy bit.
This story is fiction and contains quite explicitly described sex scenes between males. Should this offend you, but you still feel a need to read on, please seek professional medical advice for this problem.
For those of you who are underage and reading this, what can I say. I mean, if you have got this far me telling you it is wrong will really stop you and make you go read the Bible or something? Gimme a break.
Comments and criticism are welcomed at the Email address mentioned. Flames however will incur the "Curse of the Internet" which will attach your Email address to the FBI's ten most wanted internet pornographers. So you'll be rubbing shoulders with the dregs of society, people like Ken Starr.
The Morning After The Night Before.
I awoke to find myself wrapped round the golden furball that was John. I carefully disengaged myself and, half awake, went into the bathroom to have a pee. I suddenly realised that John was beside me when a hand wrapped round Ole George. Now that made me jump.
Well at least John wasn't going to pull the old, "My God I was so drunk last night that I don't remember a thing", line on me. Mind you the last guy who pulled that line, to refresh his memory, got raped on the spot. No one who gets fucked by me ever forgets it.
I ran a hand down his back as he began to relieve himself as well. When I got to those lovely furry buns, that hid the entrance to heaven, I gently parted them and slid a finger between them, John sighed and wriggled causing him to miss the bowl.
I entered him delicately with my middle finger. His ring had tightened up a bit in the night. After years of experience I had discovered that someone with a tight ring, could be trained to take even Ole George, on spit, at any time, if they were fucked about twice a day for two weeks.
After that sort of treatment their ass just sort of gives up and becomes more accommodating. Ole George and John had finished their business and Ole George was now showing his affection for the part of John that encased my finger.
John looked up at me and grinned, "You are going to have me again, aren't you?", he inquired.
My free hand could just reach the shelf where a spare tube of KY was kept. I nodded, took the tube and handed it to him. "Open it and get Ole George ready", I ordered. He did as he was, told making a meal of lubing up Ole George, who came damn near to spitting in his face by way of thanks.
I extracted the digit and he applied KY to it lavishly without being told. I greased him up and wiped my hands on a towel. Then I took him over to the wall just under what looked like a towel rail that was set in the wall about eye level for me. Closer examination of this rail would have yielded the fact that it was rather over engineered for merely holding a towel. It could in fact hold the weight of a man.
I placed my hands under his armpits and lifted him up to my height, "Grab the bar", I instructed him as he did so I bent my knees slightly and forced them between his, spreading first his legs, then his buns.
Ole George slid between the buns and found his own way home. A deft thrust of my hips and his head was in. I slowly lowered John until he was firmly impaled on Ole George. We paused to let Ole George sort out the kid's plumbing to his liking by twitching a few times.
"Shit I feel totally helpless here", said John.
"How right you are", I replied, "Now how would you like it, rough or smooth?"
"How about a bit of everything, keeping the thick bit out of me until I'm coming?", he asked so nicely that it was impossible for me to refuse him.
"You liked that bit didn't you?", I asked.
He shivered and nodded.
Slowly I began lifting him off Ole George and lowering him back on. To do this you must either be fit or have a light weight partner, As both were true in this case it was a wonderful fuck. The feeling of sliding a young guy on and off your cock is quite different from simply sticking it in him and pulling it back out.
When I sensed Ole George was getting close to erupting I told John to let go of the bar start jacking himself off. Fully supporting his weight I stepped back so he could no longer reach the bar. Then when his ass told me he was about to come I simply stopped holding him up and just pulled him to me. Unsupported he slid down my belly driving Ole George right up to the hilt.
His screams echoed round the tiled room and deep within his ass Old George spewed my seed lustily. John's cum was by this time sprayed all over the tiles and was starting to work its way towards the floor.
As Ole George ran out of steam I once more supported the heaving body of John. Remembering his preferences from last night I moved back towards the bar so that he could get off when he wanted.
I must admit that my arms were getting a bit tired before he wearily pulled himself off Ole George, who immediately drooped towards the floor. This kid could do that to a guy's cock, he really took it out of you.
"Do you really like hurting guys?", John asked.
"If the pain is turning them on, then it is OK by me. But I would get nothing from simply hurting someone", I answered truthfully.
"You know you really frighten me when you fuck me. I never know what you are going to do next. I've just got to trust you", he said.
"But that is what excites you, isn't it?", I was beginning to get the measure of John. In some ways he was like a child on a roller-coaster. He got his rocks off by the thrill of being in danger, but he didn't want any real harm to come to him. Well I could go along with that. I had no objections to gingering the proceedings up for his kicks.
"You know you are beginning to sound like my mother, she can see through me too", he sighed.
"Ah your mother, the witch?", I grinned as I said it.
"You'll see", he muttered darkly.
We cleaned up, I put on my dressing gown and gave him the T-shirt to wear. Just because he looked so fuckable in it. Then I made us breakfast.
As we ate I mulled over showing John round the cellar. When I had moved into the farm the farmhouse had a cellar that was the complete size of the ground floor. It had been divided in two and the halves were connected by an archway.
I had been induced, a bit against my will as it is not my scene at all, to allow a friend, Max, to set up a dungeon in one half. Max is a city slicker, country life would never suit him. However he did like the rural obscurity and isolation of my place for some of his kinkier sessions.
For security I had sealed that part off using the other half as my gym. The sealed off half could only be accessed from what appeared to be a walk-in provision cupboard in the hall. However one wall was false and moved aside to reveal a staircase.
Max was seriously into leather and the S&M bit. He had stocked the dungeon with all sorts of toys. For example his collection of dildos ranged from the bazaar to the totally ridiculous, and the assortment of frames, bars and hooks for tying people up to was also most, er, interesting, if you like that sort of thing.
Actually I seldom visited the place. Max would phone me when he wanted a "session". He and his buddies would arrive and go down into the dungeon. The sound insulation I had fitted was very good and I never heard as much as a moan. But the only thing that I really ever used the place for was to scare the living shit out of my tricks. John might just react nicely to a trip round it.
My deliberations on this point were suddenly disturbed by John leaping up and screaming, "The Suit! Ohmigawd the Suit!"
As you will no doubt remember we had been at a wedding. John's penguin suit had been hired, worn, dumped on my lounge floor then hung up by me before we went to sleep, yes I am a tidy freak.
So there he was sitting pointing at the offending suit. It appears that we had something like 90 minutes to return it to the hire company, or pay the hire charge for the entire weekend.
This presented a couple of problems. None of my clothes would fit him, well not for public consumption, and he had no other clothes with him.
So we quickly made an action plan as we scrambled into out clothes. We would drive to his home. He would change while I waited. Then we would rush round to the hire company and hope that we were on time. So there was not a minute to lose!
A very short time later found us tearing down my long driveway with me at the wheel. Following his directions we quickly found his home, parked and dashed in. I got shoved into the sitting room while he made a mad dash upstairs to his room.
I looked round, selected an armchair and sat down. A very large, totally black, and most definitely male cat sat up on the settee and gave me the once over. To my surprise he jumped down, ran nimbly across the room, hopped onto my lap and lay down.
Now I neither like or hate cats. There are a couple of semi-feral cats hang round the farm. I let them have my food scraps. I assume that they keep down the mice. But they are not pets. They have their life, I have mine.
Gingerly I scratched him behind the ears and he began to purr. It sounded like a large diesel engine having a bad day. In fact there was a 50-50 chance he was growling.
"Ah you have already met Cedric", the voice made me jump. It came from a small neat woman about 50 years old who seemed to have entered from the kitchen. "You must be Nicholas", she continued, walking towards me and holding out her hand. Dumbly I shook it.
The name Nicholas was the one my parents gave me at birth. Its use is usually a harbinger of disaster. Everyone calls me Nick. Her use of it brought back memories of my headmaster saying it in that weary world worn way he had of speaking to young boys who had, once more, misbehaved.
"I'm Mandy, Johnstone's mother", she said. For some reason she seemed to be mildly amused by me as she looked me over.
"So you finally arrived, good. I was beginning to think you'd never appear", she said in a conversational tone.
About here I was really starting to freak out. She knew my name, well this was possible as we had been at the same wedding yesterday, she could have seen us together and asked, but now she seemed to know too much about me and I had the most horrible feeling she knew that I had been rogering her son.
Part of my mind decided to get into the conversation, unfortunately it was not the intelligent part, "Arrived?", I heard myself ask.
"Oops there I go, running ahead again, sorry, I'll explain", she said sitting down on the edge of the settee. "I assume that Johnstone mentioned that I was a witch?"
I dumbly nodded, the idiot part of my brain kicked in again and my mouth said, "With a cat and a broomstick?"
A blinding pain shot up from my knees and I gasped.
"Cedric!", she admonished, "Have you no sense of humour?", she asked the cat. Cedric relaxed his claws, the pain stopped and he started making engine noises deep in his throat again. I concentrated on not wetting myself.
"Yes, Cedric is my familiar, broomsticks went out years ago my dear, but we digress. You have finally arrived. Johnstone is, as you have no doubt noticed, rather shy. He doesn't make friends readily so I was rather hoping that his soul mate would turn up early in his life. But not to worry now that you are here." All this was said in the sort of voice most people would use to discuss the weather. Which planet was this woman on?
"Soul mate?", I said, my voice breaking like a pubertal choirboy and ending up about an octave above normal.
"Soul mate, lover, husband. Choose the label that least offends, it matters not, you are a couple", she calmly continued.
"So you know he is gay?", well it sounded sensible right up till the moment I said it.
She laughed. "I knew he was gay while I was still carrying him", she said, continuing, "And before you ask, no I don't mind him being gay. Well even if I did, it wouldn't make him any different. My daughter will supply all the grandchildren I need. She is already carrying my first grandson, your cousin is quick off the mark", she was positively grinning now.
My mouth was opening and shutting but nothing was coming out. The reason for this was I had my mental hands round the throat of the idiot part of my brain and I was choking it to death. There was a pounding of feet on the stairs and John came to my rescue. I could have kissed him.
"Oh you've met mum? Come on! We are already late", he said making for the front door. Cedric obligingly jumped onto the floor, Mandy ushered me out of the door and so I was saved.
Just as we were driving off she called out, "Be careful of who you insult at parties!"
"Oh God, one of her omens", sighed John. "She gives out dire warnings and no one can do anything about them, whatever she predicts just happens. Turn left here and step on it a bit. We might just make it."
"She knows that you're gay", I said in an awed voice.
"Typical of her. I only found out for sure last night", he said unconcerned tone.
From that moment on my life seemed to move a bit like a train, in that it ran on rails. True the rails were quite invisible and things that happened always seemed really plausible and totally natural. But never again did I ever feel rudderless or adrift. It is difficult to explain, but back to the tale.
As it turned out we did make it. The suit was returned and we drove more slowly back to my place. On the way we stopped while I did my shopping. John insisted on going into a pet shop. He emerged with a bag containing several tins of cat food and a cat door.
"What do you want them for?", I asked.
"For the cat", he said in that voice that people use for answering totally inane questions.
"What cat?", I asked. Well it seemed to be a pertinent question.
"Oh he hasn't arrived yet", he answered, slightly evasively.
I think this was the point where the conversation floated away from the reality that I lived in and drifted into the weird world that John and his mother occupied.
"Oh and when can we expect him?", I continued to push.
"He'll turn up well before he is needed", said John confidently.
"Why would I need a cat?", I was not going to let go.
"Ok it is like this. Mother is, well, a bit over protective", he said apparently by way of explanation. He ran his fingers lightly up the inside of my thigh. Ole George perked up and took notice.
"Let me see if I have this straight in my mind. You have bought cat food and a cat door because you think that a cat is going to turn up, if and when needed, just because your mother is over protective?", I summed up.
"Got it in a nutshell", he said unzipping my fly and removing Ole George from the confines of my pants.
"Are you trying to divert me?", I inquired as he lay, his head in my lap and his lips nibbling on the tip of Ole George.
"Nah!", he said, "I'm just sucking your cock."
It is quite pleasant to drive quietly along with a sweet young mouth wrapped round your cock doing its best to suck the seeds of life out of you. I managed to hold out until we were on my driveway then I had to stop the car and let Ole George blow.
As ever it took ages to get my cock back and if John had not been the little innocent lad he was I'd have sworn that he had pressed directly on my bladder on purpose. Somewhere in the chaos of the day I had forgotten about him holding Ole George earlier when I was having a pee. Sometimes I'm so slow I couldn't carry hot dinners.
Back home I had to get on with some work. John followed me into my computer room. At first he was fascinated, it was the first computer that he had ever seen. However one 19 inch rack of equipment with a few flashing lights didn't hold his attention for long. The flat bed plotter however did the trick and he marvelled as it drew and annotated the floor plan for a large computer room in London.
The work finished I showed John round the rest of the buildings. The air conditioning plant room and the back-up generator room failed to impress him at all. I was slightly miffed so I decided to see if Max's dungeon do the trick.
From the moment the false wall moved I knew that John was getting turned on by things. Perhaps I had better explain about Max. He is a very "theatrical" sort of person so the dungeon he created in my cellar is quite dramatic in its appearance. The impact of a room painted matt black, with the beam from a single spot lamp lancing down and brilliantly lighting whatever toy was in the centre of the room, had to be experienced to be believed.
As luck would have it was the power frame that was so breathtakingly lit. It was one of his more complicated toys and could hold his victim totally immobile in almost any position. There seemed to be straps all over it and It was fitted with small but low geared electric motors which allowed the victim to be moved while strapped in. Once you let yourself get buckled into this baby you were totally at the mercy of the other guy.
It was Max's pride and joy and I well remember the day it arrived and I had to install it for him. He was seriously pissed when I declined to offer my body to test it out for him. However we did put it through its paces unloaded, so I had a fair idea of its potential.
John's reaction was first a sharp intake of breath. Then as he worked out its use his jaw dropped open. Finally he spun round grabbed me and buried his face in my chest, his entire body shaking. I held him until he quietened down. I could feel his erection growing against my thigh.
"You want to try it, don't you?", I asked quietly.
He was sobbing as he nodded. This kid was one strange cookie.
I slowly released John and went over to the controls. There I punched the reset button. The frame whined quietly and slowly came into the upright position. "Strip", I commanded. But John was already getting out of his clothes like a kid at the swimming pool.
I stood him in front of the frame as I adjusted it to his size. He was shaking like a leaf, but his cock was rigid. The strapping in went quite swiftly, wrists, forearms biceps, chest, waist, thighs, calves, ankles and he was done.
Experimentally I gave him a swift swat across the buns to check his bonds, he yelped, they held perfectly.
I returned to the control panel and looked it over. As I remembered you could either manually move your victim into a position of your choice or select one of several preset ones. Given my lack of expertise and not wishing to cause him unnecessary pain I looked over the selection of presets.
The one that caught my fancy was one of the rather pedestrian ones. I pressed the button and watched as John was moved from the upright position first to the horizontal then he was moved until it looked like he was on his hands and knees but about a foot off the floor.
Some of the controls were repeated on a hand controller which was attached to a coiled umbilical cord to the main unit. I took the hand control over to the frame. It was useful for fine tuning the positions.
By holding one button down I raised him until his beautiful furry ass was exactly opposite Ole George. A second button spread his legs. Hmm. Nice but not quite perfect. I had to return to the main panel to find the controls that bent his knees and tucked his legs close up against his chest. Further inspection found him in the perfect position his ring fully exposed for my pleasure. I like to control my partner but this was the first time I had ever had one totally at my mercy. I fingered him and it excited me.
I walked round the front of the frame and leisurely stripped until I was standing, wearing a pair of briefs containing Ole George, who was not happy about his present container. Watching John's face I slowly released Ole George from his confinement, he was rearing to go. John licked his lips.
"Lesson time again", I said causing him to whimper.
"Here is where you learn how to swallow a cock. I'm going to put Ole George here, right down your throat. You'll have to learn to fight your gag reflex and you will have to trust me not to choke you to death. Now open wide", Shit this scene was actually turning me on. Maybe Max's dungeon would be getting some more use.
Taking his hair in one hand and point Ole George at his mouth I moved towards him. Teasingly I stopped with Ole George just under his nose but clear of his lips. "Smell that?", I asked. He breathed in and tried to nod. "That is the smell of a hot cock. A cock that is hot just for you. A cock that is going to have you from both ends whether you like it or not", as far as possible I kept my voice low and menacing. Well I had watched Max a couple of times.
As with every other sex game, there is a trick to doing it. Like a sword swallower your partner's throat must be as straight as possible. The sword swallower does this by standing up and putting his head as far back as possible. I had turned the process through ninety degrees so It was just a question of holding John's head back until his throat was straight, then moving in.
As his head was locked back he couldn't easily close his mouth, but his teeth could still cause me pain if I panicked him. I had considered using one of Max's jaw locking clamps, but I wasn't too sure how it worked, besides I like a little danger too.
Next was to train him to control his gag reflex. This was solely for his benefit. If you have ever had your cock down someone's throat while he is gagging you will have noticed that it is quite an enjoyable experience, for you, that is.
So I had to rein Ole George back a bit and slip him in slowly. Eventually the head went beyond the back of John's tongue and lodged in his throat which instantly began to spasm. I just held things there and told John to control it. It took quite a time, all of which Ole George and I enjoyed immensely, but John got the system in the end.
Now I began to feed him more of Ole George. Things went remarkably smoothly and I switched over to fucking his face. He groaned on my cock. "Breath on the out-strokes", I advised, "I'm going to do it slowly and give you time".
So it went, I would pull back, let him breath in and out, then enter again going just a bit deeper than the last time. In an amazingly short time my balls were bumping on his chin and his nose was buried in my pubes on the down strokes.
After the work over that the gagging had done to Ole George my balls were soon no longer banging on John's chin, they were tight up against the base of Ole George. It was time to be a bit of a bastard again. I kept up the rhythm until Old George could hold it no more then I pushed him home and held him there. The first wad shot straight down John's throat, Nice that, no need to tell him to swallow. However Ole George had bucked quite hard as he shot and this overcame John's limited control over his gag reflex.
John gagged, Ole George shot. This repeated until I felt the panic build in John. I decided to have him take SCUBA lessons, that way he would learn breath control and I would get to shoot my entire load into his belly. However now it was time to back off. I pulled back and let the next wad dump into his mouth.
Then holding his head with only one hand, I pulled out and I used the other hand to aim Ole George at his face. There is something strangely satisfying about pumping the contents of your nuts over another guy's face. I got him between the eyes with the first shot and covered his nose mouth and chin with the remainder. Then I let him suck out the dribbles, I'm so thoughtful about little details like that.
When I recovered Ole George and John could speak again he said, "Oh my God if I could only touch my cock against something I'd blow my load."
"You got a bit excited towards the end there, didn't you?", I asked. He groaned something that I couldn't quite catch, but I assumed was a compliment.
When Max uses the dungeon it is sometimes quite messy. So one of his requirements had been a drain in the centre the floor. As Ole George was sated and limp I decided to use the drain to relieve myself. I moved over towards it, holding Ole George in my hand.
"What are you going to do now?", John asked.
"I'm going to take a pee", I answered.
"No!", this was a command from someone who was tied up like a turkey?
Bemused I walked round in front of him again. His face was very red. His body language was once more screaming internal turmoil. I had a fair idea what was coming. I could either make an assumption and initiate things or I could cause him the humiliation of having to grovel for it. No prizes awarded for guessing which I was going to do. Well he would have to get over these puritanical hang-ups sooner or later.
"Well?", I said, standing directly in front of him and holding a rather limp cock in his face. "Is there something you want?"
He nodded.
"Care to tell me what it is?", I asked in a silky voice.
He half shook his head. When blonds blush you can almost feel the heat.
"Fair enough", said I moving off towards the drain again.
"NO! I want it", he forced out of a crimson face.
"All you have to do is ask properly, I'm a broad minded guy, no reasonable requests refused", oh boy this was turning into a fun time.
"Please!", he pleaded. "What do I have to say?"
A reasonable request I thought. "Just tell me what you want", yup I'm a five star bastard.
"Your piss", he choked out the words. Ah well time for some more fun.
"Where?", I asked.
"Where?", he sounded genuinely confused.
"Are you thirsty or do you just feel like a shower?", I asked.
Obviously the second option had never occurred to him. His imagination was good but it hadn't sunk quite to that depth yet. Once more his body language signalled internal confusion and I was running out of time as I was dying to go.
"OK. I'll give you both then you can make up your mind which you like best", I said reaching for his hair and pulling his head back.
Ole George slid into his mouth and I just let go. His cheeks began to swell out before he could convince himself that he had to swallow then he soon got the idea. Eventually I could feel him actually sucking it out faster than it was coming naturally. About halfway through I pulled out and hosed him down with what I had left.
Leaving him tied up I wandered off to the kitchen and grabbed a Coke. Well I was thirsty too. I returned to find he hadn't moved. Not really surprising. I parked myself in front of him and looked him over. The golden shower had removed most of the spent cum from his face but had left his fur damped down in places. He looked delightfully messed up.
"I would never have thought that you were into watersports", I said.
"I read about it when I was a kid and I've always had the fantasy of drinking some big guy's piss", he sounded excited.
"And was it as much fun as you thought it would be?", I prompted.
"Hell yes, Far better. I never even thought of being pissed on", his voice was quivering with excitement. He was very near the edge of an orgasm. He could wait. I drank my Coke.
"Are you going to fuck me now?" He just couldn't wait.
"Presently", I answered supping my Coke.
"I'll explode if I don't cum soon", he pleaded.
"You'll cum when I'm ready and not before. Ole George takes a time to recover and I want him to be inside that ass of yours when you blow", this was partly a lie, Ole George would have been up to it almost directly. But I wanted the kid to be real hot when I took him from the other end.
In the fullness of time I gave in to his whining and went round the other end and began to rim him until he started moaning about his balls exploding.
Then I began fingering him and lubing him up. Finally I concentrated really hard and got Ole George to go limp again. Not totally limp, but he lost a lot of his girth and length. Half hard I rammed him home, every last millimetre. God it felt good to have that furry ass pushed into my groin.
As John's ring was well slackened, and Ole George was not at his full glory, he slid in with only an "Oof!" from John. So holding on tightly to his hips I allowed my thoughts to wander over what I had done to John and where Ole George was hiding. This did the trick.
Inside John's ass Ole George grew longer and thicker. John began to groan as he realised what was happening to him. He wriggled about trying to escape. This naturally made Ole George even more excited and caused him to become more engorged with blood.
When he was fully erect and John was gasping I reached round and clasped John's cock with a KY coated hand. "Just about time for you to blow your wad little boy", I said very slowly jacking him off.
By carefully timed stopping of my action I managed to drag it out for nearly five minutes. Every time he got near the edge he would try to fuck my hand, but the frame stopped him. However the rather interesting wriggles were transmitted back to me via Ole George. We make a mean team.
Finally I relented to his cries and let him shoot. His ass did such a good job on Ole George, who was still firmly embedded in there, that I decided he deserved a good fuck.
As a variation I released all holds on the kid. I just stood behind him. The only contact between our bodies was my cock and his ass. This is fun for both parties. One is fucked by a disembodied cock the other has just an ass enclosing his member.
Looking down and seeing Ole George's dark length sliding in and out of that golden furred little ass began to affect me. I got up to speed pretty fast and alas it was not a very long fuck. All too soon I was standing there with Ole George pumping the kid full again. I almost collapsed on top of him. If this kid was to be my soul mate, I was going to have to put more time in at the gym.
Eventually I had to insist on getting Ole George back. I think the kid wanted him to take root up there. I then released John who was as stiff as a board. I suddenly realised that I had had him tied up for over an hour. We were both a mess so I led the way to the shower where we washed the cum, KY and piss off each other.
Then John hugged me and began to cry. A guy crying always throws me, I never know what to do. When I enquired the reason for his tears and got the answer "Because I'm so happy", did nothing to help my confusion.
We dried, I wore my dressing gown, he got back into my T-shirt. I suppressed an urge lift the hem of it and fuck him and made lunch instead.
Before we had finished lunch the phone went, it was Max. We chatted for some time and it looked like my weekend of fun and sex was going to be curtailed.
"I think that I had better take you home. Some friends of mine are coming over to use the dungeon", I said.
"Can't I stay and watch?", he asked brightly.
"Hmmm. Look these are pretty heavy guys. They are really into that sort of stuff. It might blow your mind", I argued.
"Well if I'm going to move in here I had better get used to it", he countered.
"Move in? When are you going to move in?", I asked, no one had told me about it.
"Oh not yet, but soon", he said.
Once more the conversation was going weird on me.
"When?", I asked.
"When it is time", he answered.
I resisted an urge to bang my head against a wall.
"In any event you might not like the scene", I continued trying to bring some sanity back into the conversation.
"Why what will they be doing", he asked.
Oops now I was the one who was tongue tied with embarrassment. He noticed at once and began to snicker.
Oh what the fuck, if he wants to know I might as well tell him. My description will most likely scare him off, I thought. How wrong could I be.
"Max and two friends are coming over. They are going to use the dungeon to...", I began to lose it again.
"To?", he asked. He was enjoying this, I could sense it.
"To break a slave", I said and waited.
"A slave?", he asked as his eyebrows moved towards his hairline.
I nodded. "One of Max's friends, Arnold, is a slaver."
"But that is illegal", he gasped.
"So is tying up 18-year-old boys, fucking them at both ends and pissing all over them", I countered.
"But it is not the same thing. I wanted you to do that to me", he rationalised.
"And there you have hit the nail on the head", I said, "Arnold finds guys who want to be controlled completely, then he breaks them and they end up as slaves." I watched his reactions.
"But what does he do with them all?", the shock was setting in.
"He sells them", I said still watching him.
"Sells?", was all he could get out.
"Well if he bred dogs or horses he would sell them wouldn't he?", I asked.
"But these are human beings!", he gasped.
"Look. Try to understand, this is what they want. Arnold just teaches them how to do it properly. Then he finds them a Master who will meet their needs and he sells them. No one is being forced into doing anything", I explained. The fact that Arnold seemed to have the ability to remove any vestiges of will power from anyone he worked on rather frightened me, so I didn't mention it.
"I just can't believe that anyone could be like that", he said. shaking his head.
"Well you are quite welcome to stay and watch", I said.
"And the second friend of Max, is he the slave?", he asked.
"God no. I answered, He's called Handy Andy", I replied.
"Why is he called that?", he asked.
I just laughed and said, "You'll see."
To Be Continued.
JamieAnderson@compuserve.com