Date: Tue, 26 Nov 2002 17:27:58 +0000
From: Graham Kavanaugh <fueroth@hotmail.com>
Subject: A Decision

A Decision
By: Graham Kavanagh

26th November 2002

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                       A Decision

Awash in a crushing sea of bodies, noise and smoke, Bob
found himself cursing again as more beer spilled over the
rim of the glasses and onto the already-soaked tray that
he was carrying. Dodging one man's elbow and another
man's chair moving backwards, Bob picked his way through
the crowd with grace that spoke of years of experience.
Coughing slightly in the din and smoke, he circled around
the room towards the table where his patrons were waiting
patiently.

On any normal night he would have said that the
atmosphere was positively charged and the crowd were in
high spirits. On any normal night he might have said the
same for himself. Not tonight though. Tonight was
different.

Tonight he was working.

Two Heineken and a Guinness; four scotch and red with
ice; three Smithwicks, a Bulmers and a Miller. the orders
kept coming unabated, and with no respite in sight for
Bob, except for the still distant paradise that was his
break. Two hours to go yet.
He consoled himself with the fact that tonight the eye
candy was especially good. Tonight was the men's night in
the gay bar where he worked and already he had lived out
three fantasy romances with some of the patrons and had
estimated that two orgies and five romances later, he
would be on his break at last.

Forcing his way through another knot of men and passing
the general congestion around the front of the bar, Bob
was soon cursing again as he felt the crowd open
reluctantly to let him pass and closing behind him,
engulfing him as he pushed towards the table with his
latest order, two cabernet sauvignons and a pint of
Carlsberg.

After finally setting the drinks on the table and
collecting their payment (including a not insignificant
tip) Bob returned to the bar and found a new order
waiting for him.

"Here, Bob." Alan told him, "Take these drinks here to
the table in the corner there."

Still cursing under his breath, Bob took the drinks, two
cokes and a Guinness, and made his way carefully, to the
table in question.

There, he was greeted with a sight to give him pause.
Seated at the table were three men, two wearing chain
collars secured by small padlocks. One of them wore a
rubber shirt and a pair of jeans and had closely shaved
hair. The other wore a leather vest over a white t-shirt
and a pair of jeans and had spiked hair dyed red at the
points as well as several facial piercings.

The third man was the most attractive man that Bob had
ever seen.

Lounging lazily in his chair, this was a man who was
practically dripping with authority.  Looking at him
evoked images of a king on his throne, flanked by his two
personal guards. This `king' however, wore a black
waistcoat over a black t-shirt and black leather pants.
Grey eyes regarded him intently beneath dark eyebrows and
his lips quirked in a predatory half-smile.

Realising that he was staring at the Master (which this
man certainly must be), Bob quickly averted his eyes. He
didn't need to see the Master's growing smile to know
that he was blushing.

"Um. your. ah. drinks Sir." Bob mumbled while hastily
setting down the glasses.

"Good boy, and so polite. Now how much is that?" The
Master said in an amused tone as Bob's face grew redder
and redder.

"It's. uh. ten forty-five please."

Despite avoiding eye contact, Bob could feel the Master's
appraising stare as he paid Bob the money. The other two
men, his boys, Bob realised, said nothing, but silently
stole considering glances in Bob's direction.

Leaving the table, Bob realised that he had been holding
his breath.  Shaking his head, he breathed a sigh of
relief. The Master was definitely very, very good
looking, but being around him was an unnerving experience
for Bob. Still, he decided to keep an eye on him. Tonight
had just gotten interesting.

It was about forty-five minutes later when Bob received
the Master's next order (which was much the same as the
last one). Making haste to the table, Bob once again was
unnerved by the Master's stare and this time the boys
seemed to share their master's grin. This time, Bob
resolved not to avert his gaze. He met their stares with
a look of determination. When the master arched an
eyebrow though, it was all he could do not to burst out
laughing. He tried a tentative and polite smile, and set
down the drinks carefully.

"That's ten forty-five please." Bob managed to say,
silently applauding himself on his composure.

"Here boy, keep the change." The master replied, handing
Bob fifteen.

Taking the money from him, Bob was suddenly taken aback.
The master was no longer grinning. His smile was now a
warm and friendly smile. It was a puzzled Bob that made
his way back to the bar. Had he passed some sort of test?
Had he imagined it all? The masters smiling face filled
his thoughts.

Finally Bob's break came. He set the tray down and got
himself a drink of orange juice and went into the back
room behind the bar where the staff would take their
breaks. With a sigh of satisfaction, Bob lowered himself
down onto the couch and took a sip of his drink. Suddenly
the door opened and the master swept into the room,
closing it behind him quietly.

"Relax boy, I'm a friend of the manager. My name is Sir
Paul. I've heard a bit about you boy."

"What are you doing back here? If James comes in here we
could both get in trouble." Bob hissed.

"Manners boy. Call me Sir, as is appropriate, and James
already knows, in fact it was his idea." Sir Paul replied
coolly.

"But what are you doing back here. um. Sir?" Bob
whispered.

"Why looking for a new boy of course. And here you are
boy. James told me about your last Master. I'm sorry to
hear about it. Well I'll be precise. I saw you in the
bar; I thought to myself `now there's a boy that would
look good on my dungeon wall. now how do I get him
there.' " Sir Paul paused to catch a breath, "Let's face
it, I don't do this kind of thing so often that I'm a
pro. Well anyway, I was just wondering, are you
interested?"

Bob had never seen a Master look perplexed or at a loss
for words before, so he wasn't sure at first what that
kind of facial expression looked like on a Master. now he
knew. He just sat there; dumbfounded for a few moments,
before realising that Sir Paul was waiting for a
response.

"Well, ah. you've said quite a mouthful Sir. I don't
really know what to say. I mean I know absolutely nothing
about you, yet you say you know a little about me? Have
you been stalking me or something?"

"Nothing like that boy. No. I was just talking to James
last week and he mentioned you to me, and I was
intrigued. From the sound of things you were a pretty
loyal and devoted to your Master. I didn't hear why he
let you go, but it's none of my business. If and when you
start serving me, you get a clean slate boy. It's one of
those few mercies I afford to boys who please me." If his
smile earlier was predatory, the one he gave Bob now was
positively chilling.

After a few moments of silent contemplation Bob finally
answered, "Well, I have to admit that I'm tempted Sir,
and even flattered, the fact still remains. I know almost
nothing about you."

"Very well boy, I'll tell you a bit about myself and then
leave you to make your decision." Sir Paul began, "I'm 35
years old, as you can see, and I have one boy and a dog
already called Johnny and Spike. I've been a Master for
almost 3 years now, so I have some experience, and I am a
member of several BDSM groups. I'm out to my friends and
I a very open and honest person. I like reading,
television and gaming. I do some sports in my spare time
and am an avid student of martial arts. I'm friendly, as
you can tell," another flash of that predatory grin, "and
sincere but if you disobey me, you will get punished. I
don't like repeat offenders, so my punishments are
usually strict, but I'm an understanding guy."

Bob sat silent for a few moments thinking. Here was a
Master who was intriguing, honest and brave. More than
that, he was attractive. Looking at him made Bob's heart
ache. Thoughts and considerations flew through his head.
Finally he decided he needed more time.

"I'll need to think about it in my own time and get back
to you. I don't know when. Maybe tonight. Maybe tomorrow.
I don't know exactly. Is there a number where I can reach
you Sir?"

"Better boy, here's my address. When you've made up your
mind drop by any time after seven in the evening. And
dress appropriately boy."

With that, Sir Paul swept out of the room, leaving Bob
alone with his thoughts. By the time his break was
finished, Bob still hadn't decided, in spite of having
lived out two fantasy romances with Sir Paul. The rest of
the night passed quietly, and Sir Paul left early.
Finally, James told Bob to clock out and head home. Bob
tossed and turned all night.

The next day passed agonisingly slowly as Bob deliberated
over his choice. finally seven o'clock came around, and
Bob found himself donning a pair of jeans and a white t-
shirt. He hadn't decided yet, but there was no reason not
to wear them. Then, after a frugal dinner he decided to
go for a walk.

It came as no surprise to him at all that he ended up
standing outside Sir Paul's house, still wracked with
indecision, and staring like some stray. A light was on
in the hallway, and shivering in the cold, Bob thought
about how much warmer it would be inside. Finally a gust
of biting cold wind decided it for him. Bob took his
first step into his new life.