Date: Sun, 27 Feb 2011 14:04:31 -0800
From: MACK Wayne <mackxwayne@hotmail.com>
Subject: A Slave's Induction

Disclaimer: All rights reserved.  No part of the story can be reproduced in
any form without the permission of the author.


A Slave's Induction

Ch 1 - First Meeting

	Between their look, and the exchange they were having, one
laughing, then the other, then both of them at once, they were mesmerizing
to me.  As I viewed them from across the bar, I believed myself to be
unnoticed by either of them.  The smaller one had captured my riveted
attention earlier, as he passed by shirtless with 2 drinks in his hands.  I
made a point of following him with my eyes, to see where he was going, and
who was lucky enough to be getting that other drink he was clutching.  I
moved myself to a vantage point, where I could see him as he stopped next
to another premier specimen of a man, and handed him his drink.  They
clinked glasses, and each took a sip while settling back against the wall,
scanning, and conversing, at the same time.  They were obviously familiar
with each other and comfortable together.  And while it wasn't overt, there
seemed to be the energy of commanding officer with enlisted man, or coach
with player, or Dad with Son.  Whatever it was, it added to my
attract-ability quotient.  Without wanting to be obvious, and obscuring
myself somewhat behind a few other patrons gathered in conversation, I
didn't take my eyes off of them.
	Together, they were definitely, the only ones I was interested in
seeing, in a bar full of men, some pretty hot.  The juxtaposition of their
sizes, was an added factor to the equation of that stereotypical top/
bottom idea, with the smaller one about 5'6" or 7, and his partner,
whatever his orientation, about 6'1" or 2.  The large man looked about 10
years the other's senior, maybe forty something, to junior's late twenties,
or thirty at most.  Both were perfect specimens. Junior was powerfully
built, a fireplug, with broad shoulders atop massive arms and a tiny waist.
A happy trail ran up ripped abs and broadened out for a light smattering of
chest hair.  Years of training had turned his pecs into mounds of muscular
achievement to compliment all the rest.  Other than the light trail, and
smattering of what was on his chest, I didn't see any other body hair as he
had passed by.
	Ample trap muscles joined rounded shoulders to a thick neck, which
held a perfectly shaped head.  He looked like a "skin head," the way it had
been shaved, with stubble about 48 hrs old.  His clean-shaven face, one of
the most beautiful I had ever seen, bore small features with dark full
eyebrows, and ears that stuck out just a little.  He looked like a
combination of tough guy and puppy, mixed together.  He had piercing light
brown eyes.  I couldn't stop seeing those eyes in my mind as he passed by
with the drinks.  He had looked into mine when he passed near me, as if
peering into my soul.  No raised eyebrow, or change in facial expression,
and no recognition gestures of any kind, as I tried with my own to illicit
one.  There was just a momentary locking of his eyes with mine.  I wondered
if he could sense how much I wanted him.  No doubt everyone in the bar felt
the same way.  Every so often senior would lean down towards junior's ear
and say something and junior would look in my direction, it seemed like, at
me.  Maybe it was wishful thinking on my part.
	Just after receiving his drink from junior, Senior stripped his
shirt off, exposing a hairy muscular torso.  The muscle part had been
evident, telegraphing through the tight T-shirt.  He tucked it casually
into his back jeans pocket, as the two kept up their conversation, without
missing a beat.  Even more muscular than junior, I would put him at about
240.  They were perfect compliments each to the other, and now my scenic
quotient had been doubled.
	Senior was as hairy as junior was hairless.  It was lighter on his
sides and shoulders and almost none on his biceps, but the rest was
covered.  I was sure his back would be the same. When he excused himself to
go to the bathroom, he turned around and confirmed my suspicion, as hairy
as the front.  He was perfect.  On his stern looking, but beautiful face,
he wore a thick Vandyke beard.  It, and his close-cropped hair, were the
same salt and pepper that is the evidence of a man maturing.  His ears were
tight to his head.  The eyebrows were darker and his deep set eyes, though
I couldn't be sure, looked to be lighter rather than dark.  And sensuously
protruding out through all the peck hair, his nipples were much larger than
usual.
	As I watched him, I tried to imagine what he did.  Was he a
dockworker or a lawyer?  He could have been either, or anything in-between.
Did he have money?  He looked like it.  I don't know if I could identify
specifically what that "look," is, it just seemed to me he was more than
comfortable.  His facial expressions were quite animated, and fit his
handsome masculine countenance.  The two men were not exchanging with
anyone else, other than casual greetings, and were happy surveying the
room, but being essentially self-contained.  Those looks on occasion from
each of them, I couldn't be sure about. "Were they looking at me, or just
in my direction?"  Then there was a point at which I realized, at least
this time, it was at me.  Senior fixed on me and didn't break his gaze
while leaning down to junior's ear to say something.  When he was through,
there was a brief discussion and junior broke away and headed in my
direction.
	He walked right up to me and stuck out his hand.  "Name's Nick," he
said.
	"Tom," I replied.
	"The boss would like you to join us for a drink," he said.  "He
likes how when ever he looks over here, you're focused on him."
	"Ah," I thought to myself, "that's what I was sensing.  It's a boss
and employee relationship."  "Focused on u both," I said out loud, "Its
hard to decide which of you to look at.  You're both so incredibly
beautiful."
	"Tell him that when u meet him.  He'll enjoy hearing that from
you."  He took me by the arm and as I broke out in a sweat from the
contact, he pulled lightly on it as he spoke.  "Come on over.  He's even
more incredible up close."  Once I was in motion, he dropped his hold on me
and led the way over.  I almost couldn't believe it was happening.  The
whole thing was kind of surreal.  I was characteristically not easily
impressed, and had never focused so unwaveringly on anyone, the way I'd
been drawn to do with these two.  They were like two gods standing there,
and now, I was joining them by invitation.
	Walking up to the "other god," he spoke right away, as I extended
my hand to greet him.  "You've been so fixed on us over there, I was sure
you were going to stroll on over here and offer us drinks.  We've been
waiting," he said to my empty out held hand.  He wasn't taking it, so I
dropped it down with red-faced embarrassment, and to his exhortation, "Put
it back up there.  I'll get to it."  As my hand returned outstretched, he
reached out and shook it firmly.  With his left hand, he actually tousled
my hair, like you would a little boys, and said light heartedly, "I'm just
givin' you a hard time handsome."  He was playful, while at the same time,
establishing an order about things.
	"Was that `handsome' I heard him call me?" I thought.  He had
spoken.  His voice like the rest of him was a perfect compliment to the
rest of the incredible package.  And now it was my turn and I was as
nervous as if meeting royalty or a foreign dignitary, and I was sure I
wasn't doing a good job of hiding it.
	"I'm really sorry," I said, "for starring like I've been.  I wasn't
sure if you could tell."
	"Oh I could tell alright.  I like your apology, but I've been
enjoying your focus."  I was listening to him, and looking into his steel
grey eyes, mesmerized, and speechless.  He laughed and nudged Nick as he
continued, "You're nervous," he said, "I like nervous.  Just roll with it."
As he had begun to speak, he'd put his elbow up and used Nick's shoulder as
an armrest.  It was just the right height, and it was obvious this wasn't
the first time Nick's shoulder had known such a purpose.  Immediately the
area filled with what had been already lightly detectable.  The aroma
coming from his armpit was intoxicating.
	I closed my eyes, inhaled deeply, and just said the first thing
that came to mind, "Holy shit."
	"So. You like how I smell too, huh?"

	"I love the way you smell."
	"I like the way you closed your eyes to inhale just now.  Yeah,
like that," he said, as I closed them again.  "Now focus."  He said it so
quietly, but my focus was so strong, the noise in the bar seemed to melt
away.  His scent was eclipsing all else.  And my only visual - the one
burned into my consciousness of Bill, standing here comfortably, resting
his big arm on Nick's broad shoulder, offering to anyone close enough to
pick it up, his astounding scent.  I stood there in a mental zone, where
nothing existed but these two men and Bill's voice and his aroma.
	"If you're lucky, maybe you can get up close to that later."  He
paused, just long enough to let images, of the possibilities of "later,"
flash through my mind, "Are you feeling lucky tonight, Tom?"
	"I sure am man, just getting to meet and talk with you guys makes
me feel lucky."
	"Well, maybe your luck will continue.  Would you like that?"
	"Absolutely, I would!" I said with exuberance.
	"Why don't you go and get us something to drink..." he reached into
his pocket and continued without pulling anything out, "You ok for money?"
	"Sure.  I insist.  What can I get you guys?"
	Not surprisingly, Bill spoke for all of us, "I'll have a scotch and
water.  Get yourself a double of what ever you're drinking..." I looked at
Nick for his request, but Bill spoke for him.  "Get Nick a bottled water.
He's had his one beer.  He's driving."  With that he took his arm from
resting on Nicks shoulder and wrapped it around his neck and pulled him to
himself. "Right my boy?"
	"Yes Sir Boss," was the immediate, polite seeming response.  It was
interesting to see the big man manipulating the powerfully built smaller
bull, and presuming to answer for him.  It was unexpected from what I'd
imagined from across the room, and yet it seemed so right.  I excused
myself and turned to walk away.  As I took my first step, I was pulled to a
halt by the center belt loop on the back of my jeans. "Why don't you take
off your shirt before u go."
	My response to his suggestion, could have been nothing but
accommodating for this man to be making it, "Sure man," I said turning
around and facing him again, "Anything for you!"
	"I like the sound of that very much," he said, as he winked and
almost melted me into a puddle right there in front of him.  I pulled my
shirt off to find his outstretched hand and a look in his eye.  No words
were necessary.  I handed it to him, and he hung it in his back pocket like
his own on the other side.  My shirt was hanging opposite his, in the
pocket on his beautiful bubble ass cheek.  I watched trans fixed at what he
was doing, so much so, he had to reengage me.  "Go. Go Tom.  You were
headed for drinks weren't you?"
	"Oh!" I said, snapping back to reality and responding sheepishly,
"Yeah.  Yes, I was."  And then in a low tone almost saying it to myself, "I
can't believe my shirt is in your back pocket."  He grinned at me, and
pushed me away with a hand on the side of my head.  His touch sent an
electrical charge through my whole body.  As I turned and walked away, I
relived being stopped in my tracks by his finger in my belt loop, wanting
to feel it again.  I walked to the far end of the bar to the service
station and waited my turn to order.  All the while, I mulled over what was
happening and how lucky I felt to be exchanging with these two hot men.
	I thought about how different things seemed from across the room.
From a distance, the men were two brick shithouse friends, maybe work out
partners, out to have a drink and shoot the shit, each one taking turns at
making the other laugh.  They were comfortable with each other and on an
equal footing.  Being in their combined presence, however, revealed an
obvious hierarchy of Bill over Nick, with Nick being entirely comfortable
deferring to Bill's lead.  He'd been a quiet observer during the time Bill
had just shared with me.  And just now, Bill had spoken for him, regarding
his drink.

	The energy was provocative, but more than that, it was compelling.
I wanted to spend more time in their presence, so I was glad to be getting
us all drinks.  I was beyond my usual alcohol limit, but I was not going to
miss this opportunity.  At the least, I would be another drink longer with
them before loosing them.  I ordered the drinks and bantered, as was normal
for me, with the bar tender.  He was a stunner with a smile that must have
doubled his tips.  It for sure doubled, what I would normally have left
behind.
	I collected my drinks, returned the approval wink given me by the
sexy man behind the bar looking me up and down.  My walk back toward my new
friends, produced lots of affirmative looks and comments along the way,
about my "shirt-off," noticeable attributes.  Not as big, or hairy, as
Bill, but at 6'1," and a muscled #240 myself, I had the kind of presence
too, that always commanded notice and focus from a lot of the boys,
wherever I went.  But here and now, they didn't matter. I was single
minded, about the men I was returning to, and the privilege I was feeling,
about spending time with them.
	Just walking up to them again, gave me a rock hard-on.  "Wasn't
sure if you were coming back," Bill said, with a questioning tone as he
reached for his drink.  There wouldn't be a "thank you."
	"Sorry about that," came out rather instinctively, with the feeling
I should explain.  "There was quite a line at the bar."
	He nodded as if to say, "Oh, I see."  It was an odd exchange for
having gone and gotten drinks for us all.  But somehow, from this man, it
felt more expected than out of place.  Bill held his glass out for Nick and
I to clink against. "Make a toast Tom."  I was taken a bit by surprise, but
came up quickly with, "To you Bill and Nick, and to new friendships, and
feeling lucky."
	"Good," was Bill's, one-word response.  We talked and joked and
Nick entered in with the kind of ease I'd seen from across the room.  Even
the subject of ball torture came up, which for me had started as fantasy
that led to a kind of proclivity.  At one point Bill asked me what I
thought about castration.  I had to admit to him, I'd given it some serious
thought time, and that it was a major fantasy.
	"I like that," Bill said, "You go to the head of the class, my
boy."  I wasn't sure what that meant, but, I was liking the approval rating
from him for sure.
	Bill excused himself, leaving Nick and I alone to get acquainted.
I found out that Nick, to no surprise, was a kick boxer, had a Black Belt
in Karate, and was a champion mixed martial arts fighter.  We spent most of
our time together, him talking about his challenges and victories.  He
showed me scars from this fight and that one and said the reason for his
crooked nose was from it being broken in one fight.
	Bill came up from behind me, and held out a drink for me.  He had
one for himself, and another water for Nick.  I said I really shouldn't
have any more, that, I too was driving, and already was a bit over
indulged.  I thanked him, and put the drink down.  "No, no," he said, and
picked it up, and held it out to me.  "I took your drink, now you have to
take mine."  I started to resist as he continued, "Besides," he said "you
can stay the night at my place, if you're too loaded to drive."  I
reluctantly reached out to the drink being held by the powerful hand in
front of me, and took it as he held up his glass again for a toast.  This
time he made it, while looking at me.  "To new associations.  I have a
feeling we might have something beneficial in the making."
	To the toast I was honored by, but didn't quite understand, I
drank, and got mostly Vodka, with a small amount of mixer.  My first
reaction was to say it was too strong, and not drink it.  But after his
insistence, and the inference he would be insulted, that didn't seem a
viable option.  So I held it, and sipped on it, realizing more and more, I
was going to be needing to take advantage of that offer for an overnighter.
Maybe that was his plan, so I could be in on something really hot with
them.  Us having sex hadn't been talked about, but the energy and
testosterone were certainly in the air.  And I was ready for anything with
these two.
	We talked for about an hour, with emphasis on the subject of
castration.  Bill wanted to hear about the fiction I had written on the
topic, and said he had actual video of some procedures.  I imagined medical
"how to" tapes, and when Bill asked, I said I'd love to see something like
that.  Bill excused himself for a bathroom run, and I watched his massive,
dimpled, hairy back as he walked away - my eyes following him till he was
out of site.  When I realized I had zoned out on Nick, I apologized.
	"Hey, no problem man.  I understand.  He has the same effect on
me."
	"You both are almost too much for the senses," I said.  Nick did a
raised arm back stretch, that looked almost like a double biceps pose as he
spoke.
	"Yeah.  I can tell, you are really liking what you see.  Bill knows
the effect he's having on you and he's enjoying your focus."  Anything Bill
liked about me would be good news, but then he surprised me by what he said
next.  "Bill likes you very much.  He doesn't take time like this with guys
usually.  Nor does he invite them to spend the night at home."  Nick said I
was very lucky.  Someone else saying this, I would have considered
presumptuous.  With it being Nick, and about Bill, I concurred and assured
him that's exactly how I was feeling.
	In no time, Bill was back.  He placed one arm around Nick's
shirtless shoulders and the other around mine and as he directed us to move
by his touch he spoke, "Ok boys.  Lets go.  Tom you're coming with us.  You
obviously need to sober up for the night."  Then he patted my shoulder and
continued, "Besides it will give us time to talk.  There's something I'd
like to ask you to do for me.  With your proclivities, you'd be perfect for
this project.  You interested?"
	I was both interested and honored, and assured him so.  That he
would be asking me to do something for him, made my already intoxicated
"enthralled-to-be-with-this-man" condition, feel even more so.  That, "you
are lucky," feeling induced by Nick earlier, was peaking.  I was on cloud
nine walking out with this man's arm around my shoulders, headed for his
house with he and Nick, and now being told he, "has me in mind for a
project of his."  I was thinking how far things had come from my spying on
these two incredible creatures from across the bar, just a couple of hours
earlier, to now - with this beautiful man's arm on me, and the wonderful
smell of his sweaty pit filling my nostrils.  I caught myself smiling from
ear to ear as he told Nick to go for the car, and meet us around the
corner.
	I mentioned my truck in the parking garage, and he said it would be
ok to leave it there over night, and that he'd see to anything I needed in
the morning.  That statement was more prophetic than I could have imagined.
We walked up a block leaving the noise of men congregating outside the bar
in the distance, and when we turned the corner it disappeared altogether.
We reached the end of the block and he stopped.  He said Nick should be
along in a minute.  As we stood and talked, I asked Bill for my T-shirt
from his back pocket.  He had put his on as we were walking, and not
offered mine to me.  I thought he might have forgotten it was there.
	As the big black Hummer just then pulled up close to the curb and
rocked to a stop, He said, "You don't need it now," and left it in his
pocket.  Somehow this vehicle wasn't a surprise.  It was a fitting
compliment to Bill's super masculinity.  It was blacked out all around
behind the front windows, so it was dark inside, but I could make out the
handsome Nick, now also "shirted," in the drivers seat.  Bill motioned to
the back door for me as he reached for the handle of the front passengers
door and climbed in.  I did the same and pulled the door shut behind me.
	I felt a little awkward shirtless, with my two idols/ hosts, fully
dressed in front of me.  I was about to feel even more so.  Bill turned
around, "I have a question for you," he said.
	"Sure what?"

	"If there was something really simple you could do for me that
would really please me, would you do it?"
	"Of course I would!"
	"I'd like you to strip for me, Tom."
	There was something counterintuitive about taking my clothes off as
we drove through the city streets, but the most beautiful man in the world,
was asking me to please him by doing so, and it was late, and the car was
blacked out, so, "what the fuck," I thought to myself, as my answer came
out, "Yeah sure.  I guess so."  I hesitated awkwardly for a moment and then
asked a bumbling question, "Now?"
	With a bit of sarcastic impatience in his voice, he indicated
emphatically that he meant "yes Ð now Ð here - in the car - as we were
driving - stripped naked - everything off."  I apologized for asking a
stupid question, to quell his irritation.  After all, I was doing this for
the purpose of his pleasure, and I wanted him pleased, not irritated with
me.  So I took off my boots and socks, wiggled quickly out of my jeans and
stripped off my briefs to complete my exposure and vulnerability.  I'd
never been this way riding in a car before, but it was strangely erotic and
my cock began to show evidence of that fact.
	I sat naked listening to Bill and Nick's conversation, and Bill
telling Nick he wanted to "stop at so-and-so's house on the way."  The name
meant nothing to me, but the stop would.  They both ignored me as they
talked, and soon we pulled into the narrow driveway of the small house of,
"so-and-so," in what seemed a seedy part of town.  Bill turned to me and as
he looked me over said, "Ah much better.  Now that pleases me," and he
asked me what I thought about that fact. I said, I was glad to be able to
do something to that end.
	"Hand me your pants," he said.  He took them from me and reached in
the pockets looking for and finding my car keys.  "If you don't mind Tom, I
have an associate that can pay for and bring your car to my place tomorrow.
That way I don't have to bring you back or have Nick do so."  Without
waiting for an answer or missing a beat, he got on his cell phone and made
a call. "We're outside," was all he said, and hung up.  In what seemed like
a nanosecond, a scrappy middle-aged man, dressed in dirty clothes, came to
the window on Bill's side of the car.
	"Sorry Boss, I just got home from work," he said apologetically
about his appearance.  Bill told him it was no problem, and then handed my
keys and some money out to him, "Tom here's too drunk to drive, and is
staying with me tonight. Pick up his car tomorrow.  Here's the money to pay
for the parking and some extra for you," then he vocalized to me without
turning around while the man holding my keys looked in at me naked and
covering my now softening cock with my hands.  "Tom, what's your car look
like, and where are you parked?"
	It didn't feel right, but not completely wrong either.  I chalked
it up to Bill being the kind of man that just jumped in and got things
done, and wasn't used to having to check with someone on what he was doing.
Still, I thought I should try to thwart what felt rather like a presumptive
offer.  So from my vulnerable exposed place in the back seat, I tried to do
so.  "Bill, I can get a cab in the morning back to my car and not have to
put any one out, man."
	"Don't you worry about that," He said.  "It's no big deal at all.
Ronnie here does odd jobs like this all the time for me. Right Ronnie?"
	And Ronnie's response, "Yeah Boss, no problem.  In fact I could use
the extra cash right now.  I'm a little short what with the kid being sick
and all."
	"Ok," I thought to myself, "now if I insist on taking care of this
myself, I'll be taking money already in this man's hands, away from what he
needs for his sick child."
	Again without turning around Bill addressed me, "Tom, tell Ronnie
what he needs to know."  I saw no alternative, as I told the dirty man
where he could find my truck and described it.  He thanked me for letting
him do this to earn a few bucks, and said he would take care of my vehicle
as if it were his own.  The way he looked, and the neighborhood we were in,
I almost told him not to do that, but held my tongue, and instead issued a
resigned, "ok," to him.  He held the keys up to me almost in a salute and
smiled and backed away from the window as Nick put the big SUV in reverse.
Bill finished with, "Ok Ronnie, we'll talk tomorrow," and we were off, me
feeling a bit strange, maybe a little more than "a bit."  No one had ever
held the keys to my truck before.  Bill put me at ease somewhat.
	"Don't worry Tom.  Ronnie's a good loyal man, and always does a
good job for me, no matter what I ask.  Everything will be fine.
Remember," he said, "you're the one who's too drunk to drive."  I thought
about how Bill really had contributed toward encouraging my drunken state,
but rather than risking insulting this god, I reminded myself of my own
volition in the matter.  After all, I did what I did, on my own.  I could,
after all, have "just said no," as the trite campaign slogan says.
	I settled in, and returned to looking at the back of the heads and
shoulders of the two magnificent men before me, and played with myself to
help me relax.  It wasn't long before I was thinking about them, and not
someone being asked to pick up my truck, which was feeling more like what
Bill had called it, "no big deal."  I heard their conversation but couldn't
make out most of it.  Their volume was not intended for my inclusion.  It
didn't seem to matter.  I was inebriated, and in the environment where
these men were comfortable, and I was feeling very lucky to be here.  I was
so relaxed, I actually dozed off a couple of times, I don't think for very
long, and I didn't think it had been noticed.

_____________________

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