Date: Mon, 19 Dec 2011 04:36:59 -0500
From: Jase Jason <jase-jason@hotmail.com>
Subject: A Defining Moment  -  Part Two

A DEFINING MOMENT.

This is a work of fiction.

If you are underage, object to gay erotic fiction, or it's illegal where
you are, please leave now.

This work is copyright and remains the intellectual property of the
author. Any reproduction, either in part or in whole, without the express,
written permission of the author is strictly forbidden.


Part Two.

Knowing that Adam would be coming up for auction shortly, I cornered my
father in his study at the first available opportunity when he appeared to
be in a good frame of mind.

"Dad, I've been wondering.  You know my birthday is coming up soon and I'm
assuming that you and Mom will be giving me some sorta gift."  I smiled
with feigned embarrassment.  "Well, I thought maybe that, rather than get
something I don't really need, I could like discuss it with you first."

He smiled indulgently. "Well, son, the thought had crossed our minds.  We
haven't taken any decision yet so maybe this is a good opportunity to
discuss it.  Do you have anything in mind?"

"Dad, when Brad turned sixteen, you said that he had sorta crossed into
adulthood and you offered him the option of having his own slave.  I know
he is the elder son, but I was wondering if maybe the same applies to me."

"Michael, the fact that Brad is older makes no difference in my eyes.  You
are both my sons and you will be treated similarly no matter what.  Brad
turned down that offer in favor of that damn BMW but I think it would have
been in his interests to have had the responsibility of controlling his own
slave.  Sixteen is a good age to start taking on the responsibilities of
being a man."

"So, Dad, are you saying you are prepared to make me the same offer as
Brad?  I really think that the extra responsibility would do me good.  I'm
sorta getting over messin about like I always have and, if I didn't have to
worry about stupid chores and stuff, the extra time could be used to
improve my grades.  I'm beginning to understand now how important it is to
get into a good college."

"Well, son, I must say I like your attitude.  If that is what you really
want, I'm prepared to go along with it.  I'm sure your mother will agree.
I could attend the next auction at Slaves R Us and see what's on offer."

"Dad, I don't know if you've noticed but Brad really seems to be down these
days.  I think it's got something to do with what happened to Adam."

"Michael, I'd prefer it if that boy's name wasn't mentioned in this house
again!"

"I know, Sir, but I was thinking about Brad.  He and Adam were friends and
I think maybe he's worried that Adam will end up in bad hands.  He probably
deserves it but I was thinking that if maybe we were to buy Adam, it might
make Brad feel a lot better.  A slave's a slave but at least here he
wouldn't be brutalized and that would ease Brad's mind.  Apart from that
though, Sir, we know Adam's background well and, if we were able to get him
at a good price, it could really turn out to be an excellent investment in
the long run.  Don't you think so, Dad?"

My father gave it some thought.  "Maybe you have a point Michael.  Good
thinking, boy.  But, we really don't need another slave at the moment, so
if I were to purchase Adam it could only be to provide you with your own
slave in celebration of your birthday.  It would then be your
responsibility.  Are you prepared to take it on?"

"Definitely, Sir."

@@@@@@@

Thus it came about that Adam entered our household and was assigned to me
as a personal slave.  I went down to Slaves R Us prior to the auction and
spoke with the owner, a young dude named Kenny Anderson, and he explained
to me what usually happened during processing after a slave had been
auctioned.  I wanted to be prepared.  When Brad and I went to pick Adam up
after processing we both burst into laughter at the sight before us.  He
had had the modifications done that my father had agreed to, namely,
complete shaving, fitment of large heavy ring earrings and a rather unusual
if comical haircut of my own design, and was wearing the dumb outfit that
my parents had stipulated our slaves wear.  In addition of course he had
the mandatory slave number tattooed on his chest and inner wrist and had
been fitted with a welded metal collar of my choosing.  The dude's
humiliation must have been extreme and I thrived on it; payback is surely
sweet.

During the next two years he served me exclusively.  At the start most of
his duties related to the upkeep of my private quarters and looking after
my personal stuff.  Also he kept my car, and later Brad's BMW also, washed
and vacuumed on a daily basis and polished weekly.  To see what had been a
proud free young guy reduced to the status of a chattel, MY chattel, was a
turnon for me that is difficult to describe.  I decided to subscribe to a
publication aimed at slave owners dealing with new methods of slave
management (it is called 'Slavery Today' if you are interested), and
convinced my father that Binky (as I had renamed the slave) should he
handed over to a professional outfit for special training. I was able to
stipulate the nature of that training.  He returned in a very cowed state
and there was no doubt that his slave status had been permanently embedded
in his mind. Fear in a slave is a most potent tool in a Master's hands.

I had had all the usual teenage hang-ups about faggotry and up until that
point had not used Binky sexually.  However, I decided to use his newly
acquired sexual skills and he became a very passable suckslave.  Most of
the chicks I had known couldn't suck worth a damn but the training Binky
had undergone certainly had borne benefits in that regard.  My mother, God
bless her, had decided to become involved in charitable work and suddenly
was out of the house for three afternoons a week. I took advantage of the
situation and Chuck, Lawrence and I partied regularly in my room.  We often
had the company of willing girls and at the end of the afternoon the room
was a shambles. And the after-odor was rank; the smell of pussy juices is
not for the faint-hearted.  For kicks we would leave used condoms lying
around the room and when Binky cleaned up he had the task of disposing of
them.  We thought that that was hilarious.  Chuck and Lawrence really took
advantage of my largesse as far as Binky was concerned and treated the
slave as if it were their property.  When we didn't have the company of
girls, the situation with Binky escalated and we would have him suck the
three of us off in turn.  I even engineered a situation in which Brad
succumbed to being orally serviced by his old friend and I have suspicions
that, whenever I was out of the house after that, Brad had Binky service
him in his room.

The acquisition of a personal slave was certainly a defining moment in my
life and clearly evidenced itself in what later took place.

@@@@@@@

I turned eighteen and graduated high school.  Chuck, Lawrence and I partied
away the summer and the time came for me to leave for college.  I had
managed with the aid of a number of phone calls from influential friends of
my father, to obtain admission to a rather (in Southern terms) respectable
college.  I was now faced with the decision of what to do about Binky.
Frankly I did not want to be bothered with the baggage of a personal slave
at college; it seemed to me that the disadvantages outweighed the
advantages.  Before taking a final decision, I visited the school and spoke
with some of the guys in the dorms and they told me that the dorm slaves
that were available were very well trained and took care of all menial
tasks most efficiently.  It seemed to me that if I could get my laundry
done, my room and bathroom cleaned, and the odd errand run, I would manage
pretty well.  The dorm slaves were not available for sex (although I was
betting that for some junk food the odd blowjob would be forthcoming), but
I figured that the college babes away from the restraints of their parents,
would probably be on the lookout for sex as much as the guys were. I told
my father therefore that I did not wish Binky to accompany me.  Apparently
the slave was offered to Brad but he declined my father's offer once more.
As a result my father arranged for Binky to be auctioned off and I heard
later that Kenny Anderson had purchased him.  I bumped into Kenny in the
town one day and asked him what had happened to Binky but he avoided the
issue.  Those slave guys are like priests and lawyers; they clam up about
their dealings.  I figure it has something to do with tax but who the fuck
knows?

@@@@@@@

The big day arrived and I duly enrolled at the college.  One of the dorm
slaves (a guy of about 25 wearing the standard olive slave garb and iron
collar laid down by the college) carried my stuff to my room and then left
to park my car.  The guy who had been allocated to be my roommate was
already there and turned out to be a nice enough dude. He was a high school
jock and his name was Skip (what else?). He had been hoping to room with
his best bud at high school but unfortunately it hadn't worked out that way
and he got me.  His bud, Dawson, was in the same dorm but had been
allocated another roommie.  His name was Jason.  For the next couple of
weeks Skip and Dawson had nothing on their minds but to find a way to
correct what they saw to be a major fuck-up in the way rooms had been
allocated.  Dawson was at pains to point out at every opportunity what a
great guy Jason was and finally they popped the question; would I agree to
trade roommies?  Of course, during those first couple weeks, everyone was
weighing everyone else up and it was common consensus that Jason was a fag.
I also thought it probably was the case.  Skip and Dawson could see their
plans going right down the toilet and were surprised and elated when out of
the blue I indicated that I might be prepared to take Jason as my roommie.
They moved quickly to try to seal the deal but I informed them that under
the circumstances that we all knew about, I would want some monetary
compensation.  Their faces dropped but I knew that these were rich kids and
finally they reluctantly each agreed to pay me $1,000.  I didn't need the
dough but, what the fuck I thought, they weren't gonna get their way
without some kind of penalty.  I had noticed Jason surreptitiously eyeing
me and I had no doubt he would agree.

Now let me put some matters in perspective here.  I was no fag but I had
for the past two years been on the receiving end of at least one blowjob a
day from a guy.  As far as I was concerned it no longer carried any stigma.
I figured that if Jason was indeed a fag it might well work to my advantage
in that he could replace Binky in many ways.  No doubt there would be talk
among the other guys but I could take care of myself in any physical
confrontation that might arise, and furthermore I could maintain my rep by
screwing chicks on a regular basis.  The move took place, Jason joined me,
and Skip and Dawson were each behaving like a dog with two dicks.  I began
to wonder if perhaps THEY weren't closet fags.

@@@@@@@

Jason was really quite a cool guy.  He had good looks (in a softish way)
and a nicely proportioned body which he kept toned by playing tennis,
running and spending time in the gym.  I was pretty sure the last-mentioned
occupation had something to do with the locker room.  OK, I'm kidding.
There was just that something about him that convinced people he was gay.
We settled down into our individual routines and frankly kept out of each
other's way.  I had always been an untidy slob (particularly since I had
had Binky to attend to matters) and I began to notice that Jason would pick
up after me.  If I left dirty clothing lying around, it would find its way
into my laundry bag.  If I left a sweater or a jacket lying on my bed, it
would miraculously find its way into my closet.  After I had been in the
bathroom and left the place a mess, he would not wait for the dorm slaves
to clean up in the morning; he would as soon as he figured I wasn't
looking, hang up the wet towels, store my toiletries and wipe the
floor. Clearly I had something going here.

I had never shared a bedroom before and, believe it or not, I was a little
embarrassed at having to jerk off surreptitiously and hide my hard-on when
I got up to piss in the morning.  I had had no inhibitions with Binky but
that was completely different.  Jason didn't stare overtly but I was
convinced he stole the odd glance at my hard dick.  It was not only the
sexual innuendos; I found that he deferred to me in most things and even in
company, he would look at me to see my reaction if he was called upon to
express an opinion.  When we were alone, he basically only spoke when he
was spoken to.  Occasionally I would need an errand run and he would tell
me not to bother with a dorm slave, he happened to be going that way and
would do it for me.  I decided that this was a situation I could take
advantage of and saw it as a possible direct replacement for the
Master/slave relationship that had existed between Binky and I.

One morning I got up and went through to the bathroom to take a piss.  He
was awake and stared openly at my tented boxers.  I decided to bring
matters to a head, if you will pardon the expression, and so on exiting the
bathroom went up to his bed and asked him directly - "Jason, do you want to
suck my cock?"  He didn't reply, merely looked at my crotch, and I decided
that that was a definite 'Yes'.  I jumped on his bed, sat on my haunches
astride his chest, lifted his head from the pillows and fed him my dick.
He took it in his mouth with the gusto of a true cocksucker and soon
brought me to a climax.  His defenses had been breached and from then
onwards I used him sexually on a daily basis.  I regularized the situation
as far as the tasks he was performing on my behalf were concerned, making
it an obligation on his part, and soon had him cleaning the room and
bathroom too on the pretext of not having to have a sneaky dorm slave in
the room.  He took to his new role like a fish to water and not long after,
I told him that, out of respect, he should address me as 'Sir' in the
privacy of our room.

Those of you who are familiar with dorm life will know that privacy is at a
premium and thus it was difficult for me to move our relationship on to
further heights.  I knew that for both of us it was important to keep up
appearances.  Eventually I told Jason that in order for us to move on, we
had to get an apartment off-campus.  He accepted my decision and we
obtained a nice place a couple of miles away.  Fortunately we were both
able to afford the additional expense.  This allowed me to implement a new
code of conduct for Jason.  For example, I forced him to be nude at all
times while in the apartment and to wear a studded dog collar when at home.
He seemed to revel in the idea of my having collared him and I must confess
it was a major turn-on for me too.  He had always been proud of his best
feature, his longish blond hair, and I decided it would be a good move to
pull him down a further peg.  I mean wasn't pride one of the deadly sins?
I took him in to town and at a barber shop, not his usual hair stylist, had
his head shorn all around to about a quarter of an inch.  He was mortified
but I thought it looked hot.  Thereafter I had his ears pierced and ringed.
Naturally, I stopped short of the big heavy metal rings Binky had worn, but
had him wear smallish gold ones.  The coup de grace was a tattoo on his
right ass-cheek which proclaimed 'S. O. M. M. S'.  It stood for 'Slave of
Master Michael Smith'.  Cool, huh?

We thus played out a Master/slave relationship in the manner common in the
SM world but, for me, it wasn't the real thing inasmuch as I had previously
had absolute control over the life and destiny of a true slave indentured
for life, a vastly different proposition.


To be continued.........