Date: Fri, 28 Jun 2013 20:28:46 -0700
From: Randall Austin <randallaustin2011@hotmail.com>
Subject: A Sober Deal

A Sober Deal

By Randall Austin

Short Story


This story is erotic fiction meant for mature readers and should only be
read by adults over the age of eighteen years old.  Please do not use my
stories without my permission and please forward all comments to
randallaustin2011@hotmail.com


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Travis Williams welcomed his old friend, Randall Buckley, into his
home. "Randall, it is so good to see you. We rarely get together anymore!"

Randall handed Travis a bottle of Barolo, "Let's toast to old times!"

Travis was amazed, "Oh my gawd! A Conterno Barolo! How much did you pay for
this?"

Randall waved his hand, "It's nothing. Great wines were meant for old
friends reuniting."

The two old friends sipped the wine and reminisced. Randall laughed,
"Remember that time we sucked each other off right here in the living room,
while your wife was off at work?"

Travis laughed, "Oh man, do I ever! Those were the days. You were such a
fuckin stud, Randall. Still are!"

"Is your wife still unaware that you're a raving cock sucker?"

"There was never any need to tell her. I still fuck her once a week. That
satisfies her."

Randall cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes as he looked seriously at
Travis, "Trav, ol' pal. I know with the economy the way it is, you gotta be
hurting. I thought about all the good times we used to have, and just said
to myself, I need to do something for Trav."

A tear came to Travis' eye, "Oh Randall, you are so considerate. Yeah, it's
been very tough on Laura and Conrad."

Randall nodded in sympathy, "I just wanna be frank with you, Trav. I know
that you can't possibly be making enough money in your job to make your
mortgage payments."

"Randall, are you ever right about that! That's why Laura had to take a job
as a sales clerk, and Conrad has accepted the fact that we just won't be
able to afford college. Poor kid. Just out of high school, and there are
simply no jobs."

Randall nodded again, "Yeah, it's tough on everyone."

Randall skillfully steered the conversation to the state of the economy,
and how unlikely there was to be a recovery any time soon. Travis commented
on his son, "With the world situation as it is, I really worry about
Conrad. It doesn't look good for him."

Randall felt the time was right to present his plan, "Travis, your son is a
good kid. He shouldn't have to suffer. Have you ever thought about offering
him up for indenturement? It would not only make him useful to society, but
would provide you with a very nice pile of cash to take care of your
debts."

"I have thought about it, but a short term indenturement, in the long run,
really doesn't pay off."

Randall shook his head, "Travis, I'm not suggesting `short term'
indenturement. Have you ever considered a life-term?"

Travis was somewhat surprised, "What are you saying?"

"I guess, Travis, what I'm saying is that tough times call for tough
solutions. You have to look at all the facts. The fact is Conrad isn't
likely to do well in college even if he were to attend. He was always
something of a slacker, academically speaking."

Travis held up a hand, "Hold on there, Randall. I don't want to hear any
more of this. I hate those brokerage firms, and the huge profits they turn
on human labor."

Randall remained calm, "Travis, I agree with you. I could never in good
conscience agree to have anyone I cared about processed through a brokerage
firm."

Randall took a sip of the dense wine in his glass, "But what I am
proposing, is that you sell Conrad to me."

"To you?"

"To me!"

"But why do you want him?"

Randall smiled reassuringly, "Oh, I don't `want' him. I simply want to try
and help you out. I need a slave, and it seemed to me that Conrad fits what
I need in a slave. So I just thought I should present this possibility as
an option for you to pursue."

With an almost sheepish demeanor, Travis asked, "How much would you be
willing to pay for him?"

"Three hundred and fifty thousand dollars."

Travis was outraged, "You expect me to give up my son for life for a mere
$350,000? Lifer slaves his age and rating bracket are going for, at the
very least $850,000, even in this shit economy. What are you thinking?"

Randall made a `take it or leave it' gesture with his eyebrows. "I simply
can't afford more at this time."

After a long silence, Randall spoke, "If you do not take my offer, it seems
to me that what will happen is that you lose your home for failure to meet
payments, and Conrad is almost certainly headed for servitude, even if the
economy were to start to improve in a few months. And the service he is
likely to be put into, as a penury slave, is hard, shit, labor. Now, do you
want that for your son?"

Randall paused, and watched Travis cogitate, then continued, "So it comes
down to this. I will write you a check for a $350,000 right now. Take it or
leave it."

There was another long silence, and Travis asked, "Why do you want my son?"

Randall knew he sort of had his old friend by the balls, and responded
calmly, "I need a slave, like anyone else, for a variety of
reasons. Laundry, housekeeping, general labor, and companionship. He'd have
a good life with me."

The two old friends finished the Barolo, and Travis cracked opened a bottle
from his wine stash, a Gato Negro Cabernet. Randall couldn't help but curl
his lips in disgust as he was handed a glass, but after his first sip, he
found it to be, at least, drinkable.

The two old friends got very drunk. Randall wondered where Conrad
was. Travis had a worried look, "It's Friday night. Party night for
him. Probably with friends. He should be getting home soon, but I always
worry about him when he's out this late."

Randall assured his friend, "He won't be out partying once he's mine, so
you won't have to worry about him anymore. Just another advantage of having
me take him as a slave."

Travis, by this time stumbling drunk, laughed, "Oh man dude. Am I really
doing this? This is so crazy. Am I gonna regret this in the morning?"

Randall guided Travis's hand, holding his wine glass, to his lips, "Just
drink up. Just think, all of your financial woes are over!"

Travis took another drink and wondered, "Well, how am I gonna tell him? How
do I break the news to him?"

Randall pulled a pair of handcuffs out of his pocket as he explained, "You
don't! Once he gets home tonight and he's asleep, we snap these cuffs on
him and secure him to the bed frame. Then you call the slave police for
collection. No need to say a word."

At that moment the living room door opened, and Conrad entered. It was
obvious that he had been drinking, as he stumbled and laughed when he
accidentally closed the door too hard.

Randall whispered to Travis, "Besides, even if you were to tell him what
you were about to do, he is too drunk to comprehend. He obviously has a
drinking problem, so that's another reason to go ahead with this plan. Once
he's my slave and under my control, his drinking problem will be over."

The two old friends listened in silence as Conrad went into the bathroom,
and sang to himself as he pissed out his beer.

They listened as he stumbled into his bedroom and kicked off his shoes and
threw himself on his bed, still in his clothes.

Randall knew that it was necessary to move things forward, and spoke, "Okay
Travis. In his condition he'll be asleep within ten minutes. If you are
serious, then I say we go in there and cuff his hands to the bed, and then
you call Social Services and tell them you want to emplace your son into a
term of lifelong servitude."

Travis was confused, "Man, do I really want to do this?"

Randall patted him on the shoulder, "Of course you do!"

"Am I gonna regret this?"

Randall smiled to himself, "Of course not!"

Randall refilled Travis's wine glass, and encouraged him to keep
sipping. Travis wondered, "Are you going to be tough on him? Spank him and
stuff?"

"Travis, I probably will have to beat him for the first couple of
months. He's going to be needing some adjustments from time to time, I'm
certain, even after his training by the state. But I am fair. That means if
he learns his lessons, there won't be much need for discipline."

Ten minutes later, Randall instructed Travis to go into the bedroom and
cuff his son to the bed. Travis did as instructed. And when, moments later,
Randall's old friend stumbled out of his son's bedroom after having
completed his assignment, Randall, instructed him to call the Social
Services Agency immediately for a collection. Once Travis made contact with
the agency, Randall went into Conrad's bedroom to make sure that Travis had
cuffed his son as instructed.

Randall gazed on the sleeping 18-year old. Conrad had taken off his shirt
before plopping himself on the bed. His hair was disheveled, his body lean,
and the bulge in the crotch of his jeans was as large as Randall had always
remembered it. And now Conrad and his bulge belonged to him.

Randall returned to living room as Travis was completing his call to the
agency.

The slave police arrived within minutes, and Randall accompanied them as
they got Conrad ready for transport. The police instructed Randall to
uncuff him from the bed. The police noted that Conrad was too drunk to walk
so they brought in a gurney. They removed all of his clothing, and when
they pulled off his under shorts, a huge drunken teen boner plopped into
view.

The police lifted the naked slave onto the gurney and strapped him down.

Travis signed the necessary documents that the police presented; Randall
wrote a check for $350,000 and handed it to Travis; Randall signed the
papers of ownership; and the police questioned Randall on his training and
processing preferences.

"Give him the standard two month fine-tuning, strict obedience,
training. And for now let's go light on the body mods. Just a large gauge
cock-head tethering ring, and large gauge training rings for his nipples
and ears."

Once the police left with the new slave, Travis drunkenly wondered, "Holy
fuckin shit! Did I just sell my son into a lifelong term of servitude?"

Randall was horny with power and reached his hand to his handsome friend's
crotch and started rubbing, "You just relax, ol' buddy! Let me help you to
feel good, just like old times!"

Randall massaged Travis's crotch, and after a bit reached into his undies
and pulled out his cock. He played with it and started sucking.

Travis mumbled, "Man, that feels good. Sorry Randall ol' pal, but I'm too
smashed to reciprocate."

Randall reassured Travis as he played with his fat, large, cock, "That's
okay, pal, don't you worry about it. I just like playing with your
dick. It's just interesting to think that this is the dick that `made'
Conrad."

Travis fell asleep as Randall licked his dick. Once he was asleep Randall
went into Conrad's room and collected much of Conrad's personal belongings;
things he would use at future dates to reward his new slave.

The following afternoon Randall went to the Social Services viewing room
where owners could watch, unseen by the slaves, their slaves in
training. They had Conrad naked on a running board. A young trainer with a
flip whip in hand made sure Conrad kept up the required pace. Conrad's fat
cock was semi-hard and bouncing as he ran. The trainer was totally
hard. And Randall was soon as hard as the trainer.

They had Conrad totally hairless, but he was not yet ringed. Conrad's face
was red and tear-streaked, but Randall was not concerned. The hair would
grow back, and once Conrad's training was over, Randall would be willing to
offer plenty of comfort to his new boy slave.

Travis spent most of the weekend weeping at his drunken error. But after a
few days, having been able to make mortgage payments and get some needed
remodeling done, both he and his wife agreed that he had done the right
thing.

And Conrad, after a couple of days in training, moaned to himself more out
of pleasure than pain as his young trainer worked a comfort stop up his ass
after his morning bath.

The trainer led Conrad to a dais, and had Conrad stand on it for a photo
session. As the young trainer snapped pictures of Conrad in every pose from
every angle, Conrad found relief in realizing that he no longer had to
worry about going to college or finding a job.


"The lark's on the wing;
The snail's on the thorn;
Conrad's a buck slave,
Kept lubed, greased, and oiled,
A Sober Deal, has been made...
All's right with the world!"


The End


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While it does not yet contain all of Randall's stories [it will
eventually], it gathers the stories in one convenient location.

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