Date: Wed, 7 Dec 2011 19:49:37 -0800 (PST)
From: CJDenton <mcitywriter@yahoo.com>
Subject: Clayton's Acquisition Chapter 5

Thanks for reading! I love feedback: mcitywriter@yahoo.com
Enjoy, CJ

^*_*^ Chapter 5 ^*_*^

Friday, I was back to normal. I got caught up on my school junk, did my
work out and was kneeling happily in front of the wall when Clay came home
at 1 to let me out. I cleaned the upstairs, had a sandwich for lunch and
even started dinner when he came out of his office at 5:30.

We ate dinner and then Clay sent me to find clothes he had put for me on
the bathroom counter. I put on a weird soccer kit; a red and white striped
top that hugged my small frame, white shorts that were a little too see
through, a red jock strap, red socks that went over my knee, soccer shoes
and a red and white soccer ball. I held them up for a minute, shrugged and
got dressed, fixing my hair into blonde spikes.

I came back upstairs and got a few compliments from Clay. I thought maybe
we were having a fantasy night. Clay went downstairs as I cleaned up the
kitchen. He came back up dressed in a green, flight jumpsuit. It perfectly
framed his chiseled body. I'd never been so turned on seeing him.

"Wow," I stared up at him from the barstool I was perched on.

"You look adorable, baby," He smiled and came over to me, kissing me on the
forehead.

"If this was to get us in the mood for playtime... I'm ready," I smiled up
dumbly at him.

"Well... later, but we have a costume party tonight," Clay said while
towering over me.

Damn...

We headed through the hills to a packed driveway farther up the mountain, a
big house clinging to the cliff over the city. Clay pulled past the other
cars and up to a valet. He came around to open my door and led me into the
party.

"Stay by me, these parties get wild and I don't want you
upstairs... period. Got that?" Clay offered me his hand as we walked in.

"Yes sir," I said, feeling important at his side.

The first floor was littered with the gay elite, all dressed in costumes
ranging from leather slaves to cartoon characters. Clay pushed me through
the crowd and back to a table where Len, Michael, Jerry, and other friends
were sitting around a few bottles of wine and champagne. They had saved us
a choice seat to watch the crowd from.

Len had on a pair of tight leather shorts that showed off his hard worked
body. His face was painted with whiskers and two black cat ears poked out
behind his spiked hair. He had a little glitter across his chest and his
nipples were covered with silver stars.

All of the guys stood up to hug us and one guy handed Clay a cold bottle of
beer. Clay set me down at a chair and disappeared for a minute, returning
with a cherry coke for me. He took my seat and pulled me down into his lap,
arms securely fastened around me.

Marshall came in next and joined our group. Slavetoy, dressed in a white
thong and angel wings, went to make his owner a drink and then knelt next
to the table. It looked kinda weird to have a hard bodied guardian angel
kneeling beside our table.

They talked for a bit, but I kept watching the swirling crowd. A sea of
men; either rich, beautiful or both; paraded past us. Occasionally one
would step out and give Clay attention. He was definitely a part of this
crowd. I hugged my soccer ball from the safety of his lap and generally
ignored the table chatter. I'd never seen such a sight.

Clay got a phone call and had to step outside for a minute to the quiet
patio. Len offered to go with me to refill my drink. I followed him to the
kitchen where he poured cherry coke and then picked up a bottle of vodka.

"Should we?" he laughed.

"Um... Clay doesn't want me drink... ok just a little?" I bit my lip and
smiled. I really wanted to get along with Len, wanted him to like me, show
Clay I could fit into his life, his world.

Len splashed a little and then a little more.... and a little more for good
measure. I started to take a sip and sputtered. "Woah,
that's.... woah," I laughed. A tanned guy was watching me from across
the kitchen island and slid over.

"Corrupting Innocence? I want in," the guy said and winked at me, "Hey
there blue eyes," He smirked. His muscled, tattoo covered chest sloped down
in a V to his fully bulged speedos.

I took another gulp and looked over at Len who was ignoring me and flirting
with a muscled jock in a baseball outfit.

"Pretty shy for a guy wearing see-through shorts, cute jock by the way,"
the new guy said. He was cute enough, but I felt weird talking to someone
without Clay's approval.

"I... um..." I looked down at my shoes and fumbled with the soccer
ball then took another swig of the vodka riddled cherry coke.

"My boy doesn't talk to strangers," Clay said with a slightly threatening
tone as he appeared behind me, sliding his arms around me. I took another
sip of the strong drink and my body gave a shiver.

"Oh, no sir," Clay laughed as he took the glass from my hand, "Who gave you
this?" he sniffed the mostly-empty drink and set it down on the counter,
then pulled me back to the table.

"I told you to stay here," he said, a little annoyed.

"Sorry, Len took me to get a refill," I said, hoping to get Len in
trouble.

Clay held me firmly in his lap and made conversation with the table as I
went back to watching the crowd, feeling dizzy and happy.

"You are all really fantastic," I interrupted as Michael was "serving" the
gossip about someone I didn't know. I laughed at that and then held up
Clay's left hand adding, "fingers are neat!"

"Oh what the fuck did you give him, Len?" Clay said, annoyed.

"Relax, your perfect boy got a little vodka, let him enjoy himself, you can
chain him up and cane him when you get home," Len retorted.

"Let's go dance, daddy!" I started to slide off Clay's lap, but he held me
firmly.

"We're sitting this one out," Clay said dryly, rubbing a hand up my tummy,
under my shirt.

And then his phone rang, again. "Damnit, this client is getting to be not
worth it," he stood up, set me down on the chair and told me not to move as
he made his way back out to the quiet patio.

I stared around the table for a few minutes and then realized I needed to
pee. I started to get up and walk around the table when Mr. Marshall
grabbed my arm, "Your daddy said to stay put." He didn't sound too
friendly.

"I... I need to pee... sir," I said.

"You really should wait, but there's a restroom by the stairs. Do you need
slavetoy will escort you," he said and slavetoy got off his knees and stood
at my side.

He followed me to the restroom, which was locked and had three other guys
in front of it.

"Let's go find another one," I said and slavetoy looked around nervously.

"We were told to use this one," he said in a tone that pleaded with me to
wait.

"I have to go... let's find an open one," I whined. Slavetoy sighed but
put out his hand, showing he'd follow me. I pushed through the crowd and
couldn't find one, then realized slavetoy had gotten lost in the crowd and
wasn't following me anymore. I didn't find a restroom but I did find the
stairs. I had enough vodka in me to forget Clay's warning to stay
downstairs. So up I went.

Upstairs the crowd was a little thinner but was clustered around open
doorways. I came to the first room and three naked guys were crowded around
a table where a guy was tied into an accessible position. His knees were
tied to his shoulders and a thick rope around his middle kept him from
wiggling away. They were filling his holes pretty good and from the moans
he didn't seem to mind much.

I was transfixed by the scene, brought back to reality only by a tall guy
in his late 20's rubbing my back. I looked over and then up and saw him
smiling down at me.

"Hey there," the stranger said, "There's an open table down the hall if you
want to try it," he laughed.

I backed away slowly as his hand began to slide lower. I fumbled for words
and he pulled me back towards him.

"Hey, we're all friends here," he smiled, "Don't be scared."

My heart started racing as his hand worked down to my ass. I looked around
and some of the men in the room were looking over at us, hoping to see some
action. I felt his cock thicken through the kilt he had on as it pressed
against my tummy.

I tried to wiggle away from the man but he held on to me and laughed.

I felt another hand on my shoulder from a man behind me and then he grabbed
the man's hand and pulled it off my ass saying, "Please sir, he is owned,
we are going."

I felt slavetoy's hot breath on the back of my neck as he pulled me towards
him.

"Well I don't see an owner and the boy looks like he wants to explore a
little," The man said.

"He is owned by Clayton Hendrix, a very good friend of the host. He would
appreciate your showing kindness. We are going," Slavetoy said in a
threatening tone. Slavetoy reached a hand up and jingled the medallion on
my collar that said to whom I belong.

I instantly felt safe in his arms, like a mini version of Clay. He radiated
warmth. A weird thought popped into my head, I wanted to know his name...

"Oh, yeah... Clay... well... he shouldn't let his boy wander off alone,"
the stranger said with disappointment that snapped me back to the
present. He went back to watching the scene, trying to avoid staring at
us.

"Are you trying to get me whipped?" slavetoy asked impatiently, "restroom,
now!"

I wasn't in a mood to argue and I was a little turned on by his force. He
held me next to him and led me past another door too fast to see anything
and then went into the restroom with me.

"I can't pee with you in staring at me!" I said, but in honesty I really
didn't want him to leave me alone. He rolled his eyes (I didn't know slaves
could do that), turned his back to me and stared at a calendar on the
wall. I did my business, washed up and then we left.

As we left, I got a glimpse in the other room, a guy was on a table with
his legs in the air as another guy has one end of a really long plasticky
dick shoved into his hole and had another one he was trying to work in. I
tried to stop slavetoy to get a better look.

"You will come now!," he said with more than a hint of anger. He got behind
me and pushed me towards the stairs, holding my right hand in his so we
wouldn't get separated again.

We got to the stairs just as Clay was bounding up them. I'd never seen him
so angry. He was red faced and breathing fire as he caught sight of me and
paced towards me. I froze, looked down and bit my lip. He leaned down and
lifted me up into his chest.

"You may go back to Marshall," he said to slavetoy who thanked him and then
scampered back down the stairs.

Clay carried me back to the bathroom I'd just used and set me on the
counter, closing the door behind us.

"I told you not to go upstairs," he said.

"But the bathroom," I interrupted but he put a finger to my lips.

"No," he warned, "You will learn to follow orders. Your age isn't an
excuse. You don't know what went through my head when I couldn't find you
downstairs. You don't know what you look like to these guys."

He stepped back and took a deep breath. "I shouldn't have left you alone,
but...," he leaned into me, eye to eye, "You are my boy and you will do
what you're told. Are we understood?"

"Yes sir.... I'm sorry, daddy," I whispered, looking at his chin.

Clay lifted me off the counter and led me out of the bathroom, holding my
hand a little too hard and then down the hall where there weren't any guys
or weird sex scenes through a door that led to a study. He locked the door
behind us and sat down on a green couch.

"Come here," he said and pulled me over his lap, then slid down my shorts.

"Count," he said after whacking me on the bottom.

"Do I count that one?" I asked weakly.

*Whack* "No, that one was a warm up. *Whack*

"One," I sniffled as his whacks got harder. He gave my ass quite the
workout as I practiced my numbers up to 25. By the 12th, I was stinging and
squirmy. He held me firmly in place and slowed down between whacks, rubbing
his hand over my ass to let the stings set in.

By 20 whacks, I was a sobbing mess, begging him to stop. "Please *sniff*
Sir *Sniff* 21 *sniffle* sir"

"Don't talk, count," he said coldly. By the last one, I was apologizing
with sincerity. Finally he stopped, rubbed my ass a little too roughly a
few times and then leaned down and gave it a kiss. He pulled my shorts up
and then set me on my feet.

"You will learn whose boy you are, got that?" Clay said, staring me down.

I rubbed my eyes and sniffled back a snotball. "Yes sir, I'm sorry sir."

Clay pulled me into his chest and looked up at me from the couch. "You
don't know what it's like to be a daddy. I was so worried. You don't know
what can happen to a cute little guy here." Clay's eyes softened as he
looked up into my red face.

He hugged me to him and then led me back to the bathroom, past a few guys
who were staring with intrigue. He wiped my face and splashed some cold
water on it.

Clay took my hand and led me back down to the table. I kept my head down
the whole way. Slavetoy was kneeling by Marshall and didn't look up to
acknowledge me. Clay sat back down and pulled me into his lap.

I looked over at Marshall who smiled with an approving nod. Len came to the
table with fresh drinks for him and Clay. He looked at me with interest and
then heartbreak as he saw just how much Clay cared about me. It was a small
consolation.

I kept my head down the rest of the night while Clay talked to his friends,
stroking my chest, kissing my hair. My ass was still hurting with the
lesson I'd learned about my place. I kept quiet and turned into his chest,
closing my eyes as he rubbed me gently.

"Sweet baby," he'd whisper occasionally and nibble on my cheek. He rubbed a
hand up under my shirt and petted my tummy softly until I fell asleep
against his heartbeat.

We got home pretty late, Clay put me in the shower with him and washed me,
being careful with my sore ass. We crawled into the bed, both naked and
exhausted.

********************************************

I woke up the next morning with Clay on top of me, kissing his way up my
back and rubbing me awake. He nibbled on the back of my neck and my cock
sprang to life as I hugged the pillow and listened to him growl softly at
my ear.

I was covered in a blanket of warm muscle daddy, his hands sliding around
my chest, his cock grinding between my cheeks. I bit into the pillow as the
tip pushed hard and dry against my hole.

"Ow daddy," I whined.

"Shhh," he said and pulled his cock away then kissed back down the middle
of my back, "whiny, pink-bottomed baby," he gave my ass a smack. Clay
grabbed my legs and pushed me up to my knees, head buried in the
pillows. He rubbed my thighs softly, biting at my cheeks.

"Ahhhh," I exhaled as his tongue found my hole and gave it quick, playful
licks. He knew how to tease. He took one last bite of my left cheek, and
then zeroed in on his prize. His tongue worked it's way inside me as I
pushed back against it. It had been like 30 hours since I'd had my ass
played with and I needed it bad.

"Daddddyyyy," I whined into the pillow, "Please fuck meeee." His tongue
darted in and out of me, swirling around the ring and stretching it to
daddy sized.

"You like that baby?" Clay asked as his took his tongue out and worked his
thick finger in its place.

"Yes sir, please fuck me, own that hole, sir," I begged, my hard cock
bouncing every time he slammed his finger into me. He lodged it deep,
massaging the sensitive spots that had my cock dripping juice onto the
bedsheets.

"Yeah.... good boy," Clay praised, pleased with himself. He worked in
another finger as I squirmed, dripped and gasped for air. It got a bit
tight and I started to crawl towards the headboard.

Clay eased up and let me get used to it a little more, but hooked a finger
from his other hand into the back of my collar and pulled me back towards
him. "C'mere, you," he laughed.

"mmmmm," I whined as he started up again, but my cock was raging, bouncing
against my tummy leaving a sloppy trail along the sheets.

"MMMkay," he said, as though ready to pop a cake in the oven. Clay slid his
fingers out of me and leaned over to grab a towel and wipe them off. He
lubed up his cock and lined it up with my hole, leaning over me as he
pulled my collar back to bring my lips to his.

He slid into me gently, painfully slow, holding onto my chest, his sweaty
pecs pushing against my back as his tongue calmed me to open up for him.

"Mmmm" I whimpered as he started to thrust into me, pushing warm chills
through my body. I felt so tiny in his arms. I lost control as he assumed
it, holding me in place as he took out his desire on his boy.

"Yeah, that's my boy, yeah baby, take it," he coaxed between lip wrestling
matches.

He was working up a good rhythm as he pushed my head into the pillow, and
then slowed down and lifted me up and off his cock.

Clay got up on his knees and reached down for me, lifting me up into his
chest. I wrapped my legs around his waist, our sweaty chests rubbing
together as he lowered me down on to his cock again. He had both hands on
my ass, my arms around his neck, my lips pressed against his as he bounced
me on his cock.

And then... the doorbell rang. Clay froze, looked at me strangely and
then looked over at the clock. "Oh fuck!" he growled, "I forgot about
that." Clay laid me down on my back, pushed my legs up into my chest. He
took my right hand, put two fingers in my hole to save his place.

He jumped up to his feet and ran towards the closet, coming back with a
pair of sweat pants on that weren't pulled up all the way. The top of his
ass was showing, as was a bit of pubes in the front. He was also fully
tented, but he barreled out of the room, barking behind him, "STAY PUT!
Hands off your cock!"

He disappeared out of the room and I didn't hear anything for a few
minutes. I heard several pairs of footsteps coming down the stairs and I
started to squirm a little, but kept position. My ass was still sore from
last night's lesson to follow orders. I kept the fingers inside me, hoping
the footsteps weren't coming into the bedroom.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I heard them go down the other stairs to the
lower level. I heard Clay talking to Marshall, "Yeah no, I got your
itinerary, it's totally ok. I have a great place down here."

"If he gives you ANY trouble, he has his own punishment routine, it's in
the manual," Marshall said.

They must have been talking about slavetoy! Was he here? I strained to
listen, but held my place as Clay had put me. My heart raced a little with
apprehension. I didn't really understand why. It took everything I had to
not creep over to the door and see what was going on.

Clay and Marshall came back up the stairs a few minutes later. "No, don't
mention it, maybe he can teach Tare a few things," Clay laughed.

"I don't know how much you should allow them to be together," Marshall
paused in the hallway, "Slavetoy's had great training, but I do sense a
spark there when he's around your boy. He knows the penalties would be
severe and I don't think you should worry, but boys don't always think
things through."

"Oh," Clay sighed, "I'll keep him on a tight leash."

"It's what he's used to," Marshall agreed, "Thanks Clay, I really owe you
one. If you ever need to leave your boy for business, you can count on
me."

"I plan on taking him with me next month when I go, but I might like to
borrow that basement of yours for a few hours!" Clay laughed.

"It's all yours!" Marshall said as the footsteps went back upstairs.

Clay raced back in a few minutes later, shucked his sweatpants and climbed
back onto the bed. His hard-on sprang back to life before his knees touched
the sheets.

He noted my compliance with his orders and kissed me softly on the lips
before sliding my fingers out of my hole. He picked me up and pulled me
back against his chest as we got back to it.

I was a little unfocused though, "So slavetoy is here?" I asked as his cock
slid into me.

"Fuck you're already tight again," he dismissed my question and went back
to bouncing me on his cock. I held my arms around his neck as his warm
hands guided me on and off of his boy probe.

Soon enough I was back on board, lost in desire as his cock consumed my
thoughts, clouding out slavetoy. "Uhhh Uhhhh YEah Daddy," I whined as he
sped up, fucking deeper into me.

Clay bounced me a few more times and then laid me back against the bed,
hovering over me, fucking me deep and fast. He was in a hurry as he slammed
into me, bouncing my cock against my tummy.

He was working up a sweat again as his chest dripped down onto mine. I
looked down between us as his hard abs flexed every time he drove his cock
into me, his face a pained look of passion as he stared down into me.

"I cum, daddy?" I begged as he pounded away at my hole.

"Uhhh Fuck uhhhh Yeah uhhhh Cum on, boy," Clay was lost in his intense
assault.

I gave my cock two tugs. It was begging for release. My body went weak and
my hips bucked as he fucked the cum out of my cock. He raised me up and
pushed me against his chest as my hole squeezed down on his cock. I sprayed
cum between us as Clay began to empty into me.

"OH baby, fuck, I love you, fuck, baby," Clay yelled out as he filled me
with what I needed. We came together, rocking and bucking and sweating,
spraying, sharing everything we had.

I was still cumming as Clay collapsed on top of me, pushing me down into
the bed. He propped himself up on his elbows as I was gasping and
struggling to keep my eyes open.

I looked up to see him smiling idly down at me. He shook his head with a
smirk, "Morning, blue eyes. You're so fucking adorable," he kissed me on
the nose.

We cuddled for a bit and then got cleaned up and dressed to go work out. I
followed Clay down to the gym expecting to see slavetoy, but he wasn't
there. I looked around the room and Clay gave me a weird look.

"Oh! Shit," Clay laughed and went over to the little closet and opened
it. Slavetoy was kneeling with his back to us.

"Up," Clay barked and slavetoy got to his feet. Slavetoy was naked except
for a pair of nikes and a white baseball cap. Clay picked up the backpack
next to him and pulled out a small pair of white running shorts. He handed
them to slavetoy and then told him what his workout routine would be.

Clay touched a panel on the wall I wasn't allowed to touch and the room was
filled with thumpy music. I glared at him, I love music and he has me down
there in silence all day.

"You know you need to concentrate when doing school work, silence is good
for control," Clay responded to my thoughts. Damn he knew me...

Clay put me on the spinning bike as he started up his treadmill and
slavetoy started to do jumping jacks. He kept his eyes on Clay, not looking
at me. I spun along happily on the bike next to Clay who was running at a
pretty fast pace.

We did card for a good half hour and then went through the
weights. Slavetoy could life a LOT more than I could and he was using the
regular bar which was still too heavy for me. Clay spotted him through it
but didn't praise him like he always did with me. He was barking orders at
slavetoy who repeated the same, "yes sir," about fifty times.

We finished up and Clay had him shower downstairs while we got cleaned up
in the master bath. Clay had me go up and start on brunch as he went down
to check on slavetoy. He walked halfway down the stairs and I heard him
say, "No, put on shorts, you wear clothes in this house... always."

I paused to hear slavetoy apologize profusely but I scampered up the stairs
before Clay could catch me lingering.

We made big plates of eggs, fruit salad, bacon and toast. He still wouldn't
let me use knives or the stove or the coffee maker, so I worked the toaster
and then mixed up the fruit salad. We ate in the breakfast nook. I set a
place for slavetoy, but Clay picked up his plate, filled it with food and
then set it on the floor. He did give him a fork.

I put some fruit and a little bit of scrambled egg on my plate and sipped
my juice. I finished up and started to take my plate to the kitchen but
Clay took my plate and added a few more items and set it back in front of
me. I don't eat bacon... it just looks like a bad idea.

But Clay is a patient man. He sipped his coffee and checked the email on
his phone while I picked over what he'd put on my plate. I finally gave in
and finished it.

Slavetoy and I cleaned up the dishes and the kitchen. Clay came back in as
we finished up and told us to get dressed in the clothes he'd put out for
us.

I climbed into the Range Rover, slavetoy waited at the back hatch, but Clay
put him in the backseat. He had only brought a pair of worn jeans and a few
threadbare t-shirts. Clay loaned him an old v-neck red shirt from the back
of his closet. It didn't hug muscled like it would on Clay. Slavetoy was
stacked but definitely not comparable to Clay.

We sped off to the arts district and parked three levels below this
beautiful old cathedral. Clay said it was an abandoned church the city had
turned into an art-space. We zipped up a scary industrial elevator that had
this creepy voice announcing each floor we passed. It sounded like an
elderly french lady counting every time her iron dildo slid into her. I
scrunched my nose and giggled as Clay rolled his eyes, "It's art."

We got to the 5th floor and exited into a large attic space. The french
lady breathed, "adieuuuuuu." I think she needed a nap after that. Clay
pushed us through the large space filled with sculptures and crazy twisted
metal. He pushed us past an oversized table where a very obese lady was
drizzling yellow paint over a stone beaver with a banana in its teeth.

"Clayyyy!" we saw a very tall, painfully thin hispanic guy coming towards
us. He spread his arms and hugged my daddy with a little too much
excitement. Clay returned it warmly, calling the man "Shernie."

Shernie held his arm around Clay as he turned to us. Clay introduced us as
"the boys." Slavetoy looked down and blushed a little. That's MY
thing...

Clay introduced us and Shernie leaned down to hug me. He was cold as death,
possibly from fucking the elevator.

He led us over to a big table with a pile of canvases in the corner. He
explained the art we were going to make and how to do it. I'd never done
art, well not since 7th grade. I'm not good at it. Slavetoy seemed a little
apprehensive too, but Shernie helped him mix choose some colors and "birth
his feeling." I think Shernie was a little sweet on slavetoy, he certainly
felt comfortable touching his muscled arms and pushed in behind him to show
him technique.

I wasn't doing much, just watching them. Clay came over and set some colors
in front of me.

"I'm not good at this...." I sighed and looked up at him helplessly.

"There's no good or bad, pick some colors you like and just play," he
urged. I picked through them for a few minutes while he caught up with
Shernie.

I mostly watched. Slavetoy was making a really cool purple shadow with
swirls of black and red and mixtures of the three. He seemed a little too
familiar with this culture stuff. Shernie was grinding on him as Clay
watched me from the other side of the table, talking with his friend. Every
time I'd look up at him, he nodded down at the canvas and the colors. I was
honestly afraid to pick up a brush.

I started to paint a background of yellow, orange, bright colors. I did my
name diagonally across it. It wasn't going to be great, but he seemed happy
with me being expressive. Clay came back and stood guard behind me, his
arms around my waist. Shernie came over and showed me how to add texture to
the letters and make it better. He seemed happy, but I think he was just
being nice.

Clay's hands had a mind of their own. He was rubbing my tummy, making it
hard to concentrate and every time I backed up a little, I bumped against
his bulge. At one point, he was gently rocking back and forth into me as I
leaned over to work on the last letters. His hands wandered to my back and
he massaged my shoulders. It was a little distracting and left me wanting
to push my jeans down and mix a few colors of our own.

Slavetoy's art turned out really beautiful. Mine... not so much.

The sun was setting as we loaded into the elderly french whore of an
elevator and rode down to the car. We headed out to a restaurant for a
light dinner and drinks. Well Clay had a drink, we got water and
salads. Slavetoy looked a little uncomfortable sitting at a table. I
couldn't imagine what it was like to either be standing or on the floor all
day.

Clay got a business emergency call during dinner so he left us to chat;
another thing slavetoy was not accustomed to.

"So what is it like, I mean being owned? Like does he just order you around
all day while he watches?" I asked.

"My master is a busy man with many companies, he doesn't have time to
waste. I have my routines, my college classes, workouts, housekeeping."
Slavetoy listed, keeping his eyes below mine while picking through his
salad.

"How did the whole thing get started?"

"Um," he didn't look like he was in the mood to rehash his enslavement, but
maybe he HAD to answer a question from someone more important than him, "My
master found me in a tumultuous situation. I was out of options. He bailed
me out of jail and supervised my probation. It wasn't a sudden thing. He
didn't come in with a collar and say, 'This is your life now.' He showed me
options. He's an inspirational man; accomplished, cultured, successful,
determined. He was generous to open his life to me."

"So what happens when your program is finished?" I pushed, fascinated to
know how this works. Clay didn't seem to have the same intentions with me.

"I have two years left to finish my business degree. If I am successful, he
will, hopefully, help me set up my own business and guide me," slavetoy
seemed exhausted from talking so much.

"So you guys do it?" I wanted the dirtier side of things.

Slavetoy looked very uncomfortable at that and turned his eyes to Clay who
was ignoring us with the business on the phone.

"We... I try to please him. A man of his status deserves complete
satisfaction in his homelife. He has taught me how to fulfill that,"
slavetoy raised an eyebrow, hoping that would suffice.

"Are you gay? You don't really seem gay, like you don't sound gay," I
pushed again.

"I... before my master, I hadn't experienced men, but now it feels
right... I don't know how to answer your question," he was getting a little
more comfortable.

"Do you think you'll be a slave when this is over?"

"I don't feel like a slave now... My master does so much for me. I have the
best of education, food, housing, workout equipment. But... I hope I can
achieve even a little of the success my master has had and maybe someday
pay it forward to someone else in my situation," he ended that sentence
with a sigh and a grin. For a minute, he looked up and our eyes met, he
blushed.

"What?" I wanted in on his joke.

"You're... really beautiful, you know that?" he said it and then his face
fell in regret. He quickly looked over at Clay who was still ignoring us
and he let out a sigh. "I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..."

I shrugged and rolled my eyes.

"So do you have any advice for me on being a.... slave?" I tried to
change the subject.

"You... are not... a slave," he dragged it out and shook his head, "That
man is in love with you."

"You think?" I scrunched my nose with a goofy smile.

"He never takes his eyes off of you. You're his boy, whole different
world." slavetoy lowered his voice, "My master says he's never seen him
like this about someone. You really... are fortunate."

"I think... I just worry like one day he's going to wake up and be like,
'Get up, get out!' I don't.... I don't have anywhere to go." It was the
first time I admitted my insecurity with this.

Slavetoy shook his head, "I worry about that with my master every time I
let him down or he has to reteach me something.. but look at your
owner. He never takes his hands off of you."

I felt Clay's hand rubbing the back of my neck as he told the man on the
phone how he could fix whatever the problem was. I reached up and held the
hand on my neck, Clay looked over and smiled quizzically as if I needed
something. I pulled his hand around and kissed it and then put it back on
my neck. Clay leaned down in mid sentence and kissed my forehead.

"He's not going anywhere..." slavetoy assured.

I sipped at my water and pushed my plate away half eaten. "So do you
like... you know, when you two are together, are you the taker?" I
giggled.

"Oh Tare...." slavetoy laughed, "I do what makes him happy. Sometimes he
likes to go down on me, usually he likes me to go down on him and
then.... be the taker." he used my phrasing uncomfortably.

"He goes down on you??" I whispered in shock, "Mine never does... I've
never had anyone do that."

"So you... were a virgin before?" slavetoy was getting into this free
speech night conversation.

I nodded, "Yeah, totally. I didn't really have any gay people in my
neighborhood except for like really diseased looking people looking for
work on the corner.... Were you a virgin?"

"No," slavetoy admitted, "No I was not... I was new to gay experiences,
but not new to sex."

"Ok boys, sorry about that," Clay interrupted, setting his phone on the
table, "What did I miss?"

"Not much, daddy, thank you for taking us out," I leaned over and Clay gave
me a kiss.

"Your welcome baby," he sounded a little surprised by my gratitude.

I definitely worked a little harder when we got home to make sure he had a
pleasant evening. We passed out naked and sweaty on the sheets I'd just
changed after that morning's playtime.