Date: Wed, 2 Mar 2016 00:16:34 -0800
From: Jon Hold <jonhold@earthlink.net>
Subject: Slave Son

Slave Son
Part 1 hhh1/2
By Jon Hold
Copyright ©2014 by Jon Hold


When Ruth came back to pick Bobby up that evening I had dinner ready and
Bobby suitably attired to serve it. When he came out of the kitchen bearing
the appetizers he was wearing the attire of a simple servant. A well
scrubbed, unscented body with the essentials, a studded black leather
collar, a thick black leather belt, a silver cock cage with a solid
polished brass lock, and a bright red ass that was starting to show some
signs of bruising. Ruth raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything.

Bobby quietly served the opening course and went to stand behind his
mistresses chair. Another raised eyebrow and he froze, then reversed course
and stood behind my chair, as MY servant at MY dinner party. He brought out
the soup and properly served it when I signaled him to do so. He followed
me into the kitchen when I excused myself to plate the main course. The
dinner music was soft and subdued so I'm sure Ruth had no problem hearing
me tear up Bobby's ass with a wooden spoon for his not having waited for me
to return him to his Lady mistress. If she did have any question it was
quickly resolved by the bright red marks from the spoon handle and the
rather careful and stiff way that Bobby carried out the big platter.

After a very nice dinner, but before releasing Bobby to retire to the
kitchen to clean up and do the dishes, I apologized to Ruth for not having
the appropriate dog bowl to feed Bobby, but assured her that he had been
allowed to lap water from the downstairs toilet bowl several times during
the day and had been taken out to the garden to lift his leg.

I said "Thanks for sharing a meal with me" to Ruth at the front door and
snapped a leather lead to Bobby's collar, telling him to pick up the paper
shopping bag holding his clothes. "Thank you for the loan of the boy,
Ruth. He was very helpful and came up with some really good ideas today."
The chain looped around my finger, I held the key up in front of her, "Just
in case you might want to give him some relief at some point."

Pushing a pointed fingernail into Bobby's somewhat tender buttock, she
said, "I see you found it necessary to discipline him." She did NOT sound
overly happy.

"Just a bit of a learning curve between he and I, and perhaps a little
puppyish over-eagerness."

"You mean scampishness!"

"Well, yes" I said, "but I enjoyed every minute of my time with him, and he
seemed to enjoy learning how to act around a man, and how to take a
spanking like a man. All-in-all, I have nothing negative to say about the
boy, and much positive."

"Will it hurt him in any way to wear that thing?"

I just grinned my most evil grin. Bobby almost started crying. Ruth just
raised an eyebrow and stared at both of us.

I had asked Ruth to bring Bobby back in a week, but she was going to be out
of town so it would be two weeks before I saw them again. Bobby looked at
me beseechingly, I smiled at him... "Oh, no. It won't damage him unless he
doesn't clean himself up properly after pissing all over himself. His
youthful balls may explode from the internal pressure, but the surgeon
should be able to cut the lock so he can clean up the mess and finish the
emasculation properly."

Ruth looked a little startled and then, realizing that the payback for
scampishness could be even more powerful scampishness, she winked from
behind Bobby, "Then that's between you boys. You keep the key and Bobby can
just mind his manners or pay the price."

I smiled and put the key back around my neck before shaking Bobby's new
cage to make sure it was secure.

Ruth led the boy, essentially naked, out to her car. As he was leaving,
Bobby turned and gave me a half-grateful/half-fearful smile. He looked like
he hoped I was joking, but wasn't really sure. I figured that by the end of
two weeks he just might have figured out what Tom Clancy meant when he
wrote, "If you kick a tiger in the ass, you'd better have a plan for
dealing with his teeth."

-----

The Friday after she got back Ruth called and then brought Bobby over for
another fitting. She explained that she had to go out of town again. "When
you get done with him just call this number...", handing me a piece of
paper, "...and my chauffer will come get him." Then she looked at Bobby,
who, standing there with a ball gag in his mouth, obviously trying to not
squirm around, looked like he was about to cry, or have apoplexy or
something. Her voice carrying a certain degree of irritation, she turned to
me and said, "My chauffer and his wife, my cook and maid, don't
particularly like Bobby, and HE," glaring eyes focused on Bobby, "really
doesn't like them. Not your problem, but Bobby's been after me to ask you
if he can stay here until I get back."

I looked Bobby over, then back at Ruth, "From the looks of that ball gag,
and how tight it is, my guess is that he was on to you just a little bit
too much."

"One time too many. Or fifty times or whatever it was. No obligation of any
sort, Jon, but if you wouldn't mind putting up with him, I would appreciate
it if he could stay here with you. He'd be much happier and, I think, much
better taken care of." Looking at me with piercing, calculating eyes, she
said, "I don't know what it is, but Bobby seems smitten with you. Usually
he can't stand other males. But it's been, `Mr. Hold, this; Mr. Hold that'
until I was wondering why I didn't just gag him,... so I did!"

"I don't have a problem with Bobby staying here. Maybe we can have
something to show you when you come back."

"That would be wonderful, Jon. He's yours until I get back. Totally YOURS!
You will be his Master and he WILL do as he's told. Other than not
permanently scarring his face or breaking something important, he's all
yours to do with as you wish!" Turning to leave, she looked back over her
shoulder, "Oh, yes. I would appreciate it if you didn't emasculate the boy
unless it seems really necessary."

With that parting shot she turned and went back up the stairs and, a few
seconds later, I heard the door open and close. I turned to Bobby to say
something. There was terror in his eyes and his hands were clasped in front
of the cage holding what he was so fearful of loosing.

I didn't mind teasing and playing with the boy, but terror is WAY past my
limits. "Bobby, please come over here."

In what might well have been the bravest thing he'd ever done, Bobby walked
over to me, stopping within easy reach. He was standing at his version of
attention, hands down to his sides, body straight and as tall as he could
make himself, his eyes staring past me. And trembling. I really didn't like
to see anyone that afraid, ever!

"Bobby," I said, reaching over gently, slowly, taking a grip on his wire
covered balls, "you know how you like teasing and being `scampish'. Well, I
think your mistress and I just taught you that we can be scampish too!"

Bobby let that soak in, and I could nearly see the wheels turning. Suddenly
his head snapped around to face me and I had a wildcat in my hands. A
seriously pissed off wildcat.

Laughing so hard that I was nearly hurting myself, it took every bit of my
martial arts training to keep him from doing me grievous bodily injury. Not
that he wasn't trying!



"THAT'S NOT VERY NICE!!!"



"YOU AND MOM SCARED ME!"



"YOU WERE BEING MEAN!!!"



I gathered Bobby up against my chest, hands trapped so he couldn't hit and
sat us down in my Easy Boy Rocker. "Think about it, Bobby. When you tease
us you don't tell us you're teasing. That wouldn't be fun. And, admit this,
at least to yourself, when you tease, it's because you love to play, AND
you want some attention, even if that attention involves you being
disciplined. TRUE?" When he didn't answer I swatted his butt,
lightly. "TRUE?"

His body shaking in emotional turmoil, hiccuping as he tried to stop
crying, Bobby looked up briefly, his face covered in snot and tears, nodded
"yes", and then buried his head back in my chest. I got a couple of tissues
from the side-table and turned his face to me so I could wipe away most of
the snot and tears, having him blow his nose at the end. He buried his head
in my chest again and soon fell asleep. I held him and rocked until he woke
from his nap two hours later.

"OK. Time to get up, Champ! Go to the bathroom and take a shower!" He
scampered off to the bathroom. A few minutes later I heard the toilet
flush. A minute after that I saw his head peek around the corner of the
hallway. "Why aren't you in the shower?"

"I'm afraid I'll slip and fall in that big tub, Mr. Hold."

I was hearing a little boy talking. " There's non-slip strips on the bottom
of the tub! If you're afraid to take a shower, take a tub bath."

I heard water running and then silence. I felt rather that saw the boy
lurking next to the hallway entrance. "Didn't I tell you to take a bath?"

"I'm afraid of the deep water, Sir."

Sighing, I got up and went to the hallway, took a certain young man by the
ear and marched him to the bathroom on his tippy-toes. "Now! Into the tub!"

The boy carefully peeked over the side of the tub, carefully not touching
the tub in any way. "That's really deep, Sir! What am I going to do if I
slip and my head goes under water?"

"Well, if that happens, I guess you'll just have to sit back up."

Undaunted, he looked up at me with big, soft puppy dog eyes. "But what if I
hit my head and can't get back up and drown and die? What are you going to
tell Mam then. You're going to have to tell her you let me drown even after
I asked for help."

"No, you didn't"

Shocked. Very nearly incredulous boy looked at me, not knowing what to
to. "Huh?

"You never actually asked me if I wanted to take a bath with you!" You
could see the wheels spinning. His face got bright red and he coughed to
clear his throat.

"Mr. Jon, would you like to take a bath with me?"

"Sounds like fun!" and I started getting undressed.

Bobby eagerly helped me get undressed, taking down my pants so I didn't
have to bend over. Folding my clothes very neatly and stacking them outside
so they wouldn't get wet. We helped each other get into the tub and set
about having as much fun as possible, ducking each other. Tickling each
other...

Bobby got me to stand up so he could "Properly wash your feet and legs,
Sir". He hesitated when he got to my groin. Nervous and apprehensive. A
worried look on his face. I asked him to stand up, and when he did I gently
enfolded him in my arms, bowed my head and gave him a warm and gentle
dry-lipped kiss. Bobby moaned and melted into my embrace.

"Have you ever been with a man, Bobby. I mean have you ever had sex with
another male?

"No, Sir. I was my mothers only child and she watched over me very
closely. I went to private schools and was always under supervision. I was
never allowed to play with other kids or have very much to do with the
other boys. My teachers were all older men who totally believed in the
adage, "Spare the child and spoil the rod!" Only they used rattan canes and
a whipping bench. If you were going to get more than five of the best you
got strapped to the spanking bench which kept you from moving and stretched
out your butt muscles for maximum effect. Canings were always done with the
boy totally nude to embarrass him and so the proctors and teachers could
see the results of their work. Often the boy was left on display as a
warning to the other boys for hours on end and could hardly walk when they
were finally released. Some of the teachers enjoyed assigning extra strokes
for "non-responsiveness and insubordination". Sometimes the boys were
forced to walk until they were about to pass out from the pain before being
strapped back onto the spanking bench and given as many as twenty
additional strokes for their "Crimes" This only happened to the boarding
boys who often wouldn't see their parents from one year to the next, if
ever. Some of the cute boys were personal servants to certain of the
teachers who liked to bugger boys. Those boys were much more likely to
spend long periods of time experiencing the spanking bench and its many
uses. Over and over until they were slaves to their masters. Willing, even
eager, submissive slaves. [Proving the efficacy of totally inappropriate
behavior. Inappropriate for the care-less parents as much as for the
instructors!]  Our chauffeur brought me to school each morning and brought
me home immediately after school so the most I ever got was four strokes of
the cane. But I hated seeing how some of the other boys were abused."

I hugged Bobby closer to my naked body and he started nursing on my left
nipple. Still holding the nursing boy against my body I pulled the plug to
drain the tub, closed the glass doors and got the shower going, washing my
new friend, getting him out of his black memories, and getting washed in
return. Only Bobby eschewed the use of soap, finding it much more effective
to use his tongue and bare hands. I never objected in any way whatsoever!
EVER!

Bobby's pointy tongue was everywhere, cleaning my nose, my ears, his tongue
widening to cleanse my broad, flat surfaces, the nape of my neck, my entire
back, my armpits which, it seems, were badly in need of a long, intense
session of tongue work before meeting with Bobby's approval. My chest, my
belly, and another long session with Bobby on his knees caring for my
crotch every bit as assiduously and diligently as he had done my
armpits. Apparently Bobby really liked the taste and smell of a man.

The problem arose when Bobby discovered that, if he worked at it just
right, he could get both of my eggs into his mouth at the same time. He
looked up at me with those big puppydog eyes and smiled, as if to say, "See
Mr. Hold, Sir. See what I can do." Then he snuggled in, leaning against me,
his tongue slowly laving my nuts interspersed with short sessions of
nursing on my balls just like he did my titties. After about fifteen
minutes I figured that he was happy, with no plan to do anything else for
the rest of the night. An outside observer might have discerned that
standing in the bathtub all night was not my idea of a wonderful thing to
do, ever! Twice I told Bobby to let go of my happiness boys. The third time
I one-finger poked him in the forehead before telling him to let go of
me. Three strikes, no response from my problem child. I leaned over,
spotted my target and laid one on with the flat of my hand as hard as I
could. There was a loud popping sound as he jerked backwards and my poor
gonies were jerked out through his lips.

"Oooow', he said, tears in his eyes and hand rubbing his butt, "Why'd you
do that?"

"Did you really think I was going to stand in the tub all night while you
dozed and sucked on my balls?"

Again, I could see the wheels turning. Then her looked back up at me, a
guilty look on his face. "Oops?"

"Yeah! Oops." Stepping out of the tub and reaching for a bath towel I
looked back at him, " It's bed time. Piss. Brush your teeth. And off to bed
with you! No screwing around!"

"Yes, Sir."

A giggly boy teasing and wanting to play is not conducive to a fast
anything! A few (all too light) taps on his superfine ass and we finally
headed upstairs. Going up the stairs he asked where he was supposed to
sleep. I told him all the guest bedrooms were behind us down stairs. He
said "That's OK. I can sleep on the couch."

"I don't have sheets for the couch."

"That's OK. I can sleep on the floor."

"And ruin my shag carpeting when you wank yourself? I don't fucking think
so!"

"I can't sleep sitting on the toilet, Sir. Where am I going to sleep."

I made a big show of trying to figure out where my guest could
sleep. Finally, I sighed a deep sigh, "Well, I guess you're just have to
bunk in with he."

"Do I haf'ta?" He whined.

"There's just no other choice that I can see.."

He perked right up. "OK, Last one in bed has to kiss ass!" And took off
down the hall. I caught him at my door, his not having figured out that the
door opened outwards, not in! I picked him up, set him down and was in bed,
on my belly, legs wide open when he finally climbed into bed. "You're going
to make me kiss your ass. Aren't you."

"Hey, it was your game. I'm not going to make you, your sense of right and
wrong is going to make you."

He sighed a huge sigh and moved in and started playing with my ass. "You've
never been able to play with anyone's ass before, have you?"

"No, Sir."

"Take your time. There's no rush. Neither of us is going anywhere for the
rest of the night."

And we didn't either. Bobby taught himself how to kiss ass. Using my
moaning as a guide. Then taught himself how to rim a man, using the same
clues from my rapidly approaching insanity! Then I gave him information on
just how a more experienced man might take a virgin young boy/man (to
off-lips kissing, rimming, and deep-throat cocksucking. There were, of
course, demonstrations following the verbal discourse. (And, `YES', of
course I released the poor youth from durance vile.When I started to take
the key off from around my neck, I thought the young men were to lose his
mind. When I said, "oh, I'm not going to unlock you, I just want to get
this out of the way so I can have sex!"

I thought the devil had leaked a demon from the dark regions into my bed. I
was laughing so hard, that I was having trouble keeping my bedmate from
doing me a physical injury. It finally dawned on Bobby, that I was teasing
him again, and that made him really mad! I had to getting down on his belly
and give them a short spanking just to get his attention. "Do you want me
to let you out of that thing? Or would you rather I just think you want
some more."

Gritting his teeth, and just barely keeping himself under control, Bobby
managed to say, quite politely actually, "Get me out of this fucking
thing!"

Still laughing under my breath, I turned the boy over on his back and undid
the lock holding his chastity device in place. He barely managed to control
himself as I undid the buckles and fastenings of his leather belts, and
finally open the wire cage it'd been holding his naughty bits so tightly. I
barely got my head down fast enough to catch his first spontaneously burst
from his still hardening organ. The good thing he was young, anyone any
older when they had some kind of a heart attack from going through the
contortions he did. Afterwards, he just lay there with a silly grin on his
face looking at me and moaning.

  "Well, did you enjoy that?"

"Thank you, Mr. Hold!  ... I'm not sure but I don't think I like that
thing! But I liked it because I kept thinking about you. Does that sounds
stupid?"

Shaking my head "No Bobby it doesn't. It sounds to me like a young man
looking for guidance, love, and approval. I hope you're getting those from
me. I do, mostly, approve of you. And I do enjoy helping to guide you, to
show you what a young man needs to know. Like how to tell the difference
between love and infatuation. Between you and I, I'm not sure which is the
truth. But I do want to find out."

Bobby didn't say anything, he just moved over and cuddled up against my
side. After thinking and holding on and getting warm, Bobby quietly said,
"it's confusing isn't it Mr. Hold."

"Yeah, Bobby. It's confusing all right." I said as I wrapped my arm around
him and cuddled him closer to my side and said, "it's real confusing
sometimes."

We just sat there in bed kneeling against the pillows on the headboard, and
Bobby leaning on me. Bobby seemed content, and I was willing to sit there
and hold him all night long. Bobby's breathing got very regular indicating
that he was probably asleep. I pulled the covers up over us and just what
there sitting up like that all night long. I had dreams most of the night,
not the nightmares I was so used to, but rather confused ones, as I kept
trying to figure out if Bobby was just a client, or my son.

Bobby and I woke up at 0 dark 30, both of us seriously on the
bone. Groaning, we both headed for the bathroom. Standing in front of the
toilet, trying to pee, without any noticeable luck at all. We got to
laughing at each other and teasing each other about how hard our boners
were. None of that helped at all. We finally quit trying and just got into
the shower making jokes about peeing in the shower when our dick's finally
got soft, if they ever did.

I finally got tired of waiting, reach out and got a towel, folded it and
dropped it to the floor, and then knelt down in front of Bobby, and
proceeded to teach him how to give head. He was an extremely eager learner,
to say nothing of willing. I very willingly, drained his entire load. Seems
like he hadn't emptied his reservoirs completely yesterday. Luscious
breakfast.

Bobby was no sooner done trembling and going through the aftershocks of his
orgasm, then he dropped on his knees and took his place in front of me. I
had to warn him a couple of times about teeth, but he didn't seem to quite
get the idea. So I picked him up, got back on my knees and dragged my teeth
the entire length of his dick. That was the last time I had problems with
his teeth! When I blasted my first load, Bobby went backwards in
surprise. But he quickly regained his lip lock on my Johnson and held on
for dear life as I finished feeding him.

He looked up at me with those puppy dog eyes, totally happy with himself. I
smiled a him, put my hand on his head, and started peeing all over him. At
first he tried to get away, but my hand on his head easily controlled
him. He settled down to his hunches, apparently enjoying hell out of me
peeing on him. He reached down and got hold of his semi-wilted staff, and
started returning the favor. Being on the bottom he couldn't reach as far
as I could, but being young, he had a lot more back-pressure than I did! He
was able to pee all the way up to my belly button. Laughing our asses off,
we just vastly enjoyed emptying our bladders on each other!

After our golden showers, we gave each other a good thorough scrub down
with soap and water. I mentioned that the stubble on Bobby's body felt
really weird. He quickly ran his hands all over himself and said, "uh-oh!
I'm really gonna get it now."

"Why are you to get it, Bobby?"

 "I'm not supposed to let myself get prickly like that!"

"Well, we're in the right place to cure that!" I reached over Bobby's head
and grabbed a package of disposable razors. "We'll have you smooth as a
baby's ass in a jiffy," I said, slapping his super fine ass. I pulled out a
razor and set it on the shower shelf, grabbed a bar of soap, got Bobby out
of the shower spray and lathered him up really good! I shaved him from the
tops of his feet > up his legs > straight up to his belly > his chest. I
removed every hair on his neck and below his ears. I moved the by then
mesmerized boy under the shower and rinsed him off really well. Then back
out of the shower spray. This time I took my time very carefully lathering
up his entire crotch: his superfine butt, the dangly bits in front, and
very carefully lathered every last tiny bit of his extraordinarily
sensitive (and cute) taint. Well, to tell the whole truth, half his dangly
bits were dangly. The other half weren't dangly at all. Not nohow!

####################### END OF PART 1½
###################################

Bobby managed to stand there, quietly, and let me be in charge as I shaved
him. Didn't take the boy long to bone up, which didn't surprise me,
especially since I'd beat him to it! I've felt some real fine bodies in my
time, but, for some reason I didn't understand, handling Bobby really got
my motor running faster than anyone before him. The boy was the most
perfectly formed young male I'd ever known. Not overbuilt or bulgy muscled,
not too lean, just a healthy young man on a happy, enjoyable, caring trip
through what he saw as a basically wonderful world filled with nice
people. That included, most definitely, his mistress, dominatrix, mam,
mother. She gave him the stability and attention he craved. If he did
wrong, he was punished, if he did good


------

Handle every stressful situation like a dog. If you can't eat it
or play with it, Just pee on it and walk away.
     —-Marcus Antionious Aurelius von Kumquat


-----

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or
prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech,
or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to
petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

     ---Constitution of the United States of America, First Amendment, 1791