Date: Wed, 30 Mar 2011 19:12:17 -0700 (PDT)
From: Paul Vanden Boogard <misfit6959@yahoo.com>
Subject: My Right To Own (part 3)

I rolled out of bed late Sunday morning, my slave grimacing and squirming
because it had to pee so bad.  I sent it running to the basement, then went
to relieve myself as well, snatching my robe from the closet door as I
went.  The first thing I had on my mind was coffee, and started a pot
brewing before my slave finally topped the basement stairs.  I motioned it
over to me and it ducked its head, fearing I was angry with it for not
getting my coffee started first.  When it neared I wrapped an arm around it
and pulled it to me, however, reaching down to squeeze its ass cheek as I
wrapped my lips over its mouth.

      "How's Daddy's little bitch today?" I asked as I cupped its cock and
balls into my hand, caressing them.
      "Good, Daddy," it said tentatively.  I kissed it again, running my
hands over its smooth, hairless body.  I had been very strict with it as of
late, and it was tense and unsure in my arms, but tried to respond
appropriately, kissing me back and squirming its naked body against mine.

      "French toast."
      I stepped away to get its cereal and it stood there idly.
      "Well?"
      "I don't know how to make French toast Daddy."
      "Eggs, milk, butter, bread."
      I filled its bowl while it retrieved the items, setting it on the
table with a spoon, then gave it instruction on preparing my breakfast,
sitting back to drink my coffee and smoke a cigarette.  When it saw that it
would be allowed to eat at the table, it smiled, and sat demurely while it
ate.  Finishing my breakfast, I sat back and held out my cupped hand.
      It rose and spread its legs quickly, its hands finding their place
behind his back.  Cupping its balls, I slid my finger up its crack to
fondle my pussy, feeling the little patch of fur around it.
      "Hmmm.  Finish and clean up.  I'm taking a shower."
      I turned on the heat lamp and went to fetch the clothes I planned to
wear, dropping my robe on the bedroom floor.  I inspected each drawer as I
opened it to make sure my slave had folded and put everything away
correctly, then ambled into the bathroom and stepped into the shower.  By
the time I was finished my slave was kneeling off to the side, a towel
spread on the floor and ready.  Stepping out, it went to dry my feet.
      "Good boy," I petted its head, snatching up the other towel to dry
off my face.  It pranced up immediately, it's hands clasped up under its
chin as it watched me and waited.  I dried my stomach and crotch, then gave
it the towel to get my back, ass, arms and legs.  I applied some deodorant
and put in my contacts, then stepped into my clothes, turning off the heat
lamp overhead.  Sitting at the table to a coffee and a cigarette, I peered
at the back yard through the window.  The stretch of sunny days had melted
most of the snow, and I could see large patches of brown grass, a mess of
dead flower foliage thrusting up from the gardens.  With the sun on it, the
thermometer registered forty two degrees.
      When I turned, I found my slave standing in its wait spot.
      "Bring me the lube and the teardrop."
      It scampered back a few moments later, then turned and bent over
without command.  Spreading my pussy's lips, I inspected it to make sure it
had shaved properly, then lubed the hole and inserted the teardrop, turning
it this way and that until my slave's cock started to rise and its ass
started gyrating.
      "Come."
      I gave it a black wife beater and a gold mesh "fag" shirt, allowing
it to slip on some black lace panties, jeans, and shoes.  Shuffling into
its jacket, it followed me out to the car and climbed into the back seat.
      I didn't ask if it enjoyed the arcade, but left it there with twenty
dollars as I went to browse through the stores.  It wasn't that I was
looking for anything in particular, but I had needed to get out of the
house for a while.  It was in one of the women's clothing stores that I
found a hot little black g-string for my bitch, laughing because I knew its
balls would hang out to either side when it put it on.  There was also a
long, thin scarf made of black fur, which I purchased as well.  Stepping
out of the store I peered back toward the arcade and could see my slave
standing near one of the games.  He was looking at the screen, but was
talking to someone who had his back to me; a man who might well be my age
or perhaps a few years younger, though with my perception of men's ages it
was hard to be sure.  I decided to watch the exchange, and saw the man
reach out and grab my slave's ass.  Shaking its head, my slave took a step
back from him.
      It made me smile.
      Looking up, my slave suddenly caught sight of me, its eyes going
wide.  The man turned to follow its gaze and locked eyes with me, then
turned away and hurried off, my slave glancing around before rushing out
toward me.
      "Did you spend your money?"
      "Not all of it Daddy."
      "Did that guy make a pass at you?"
      It nodded.
      I chuckled.
      "Well, it's obvious you're a fag.  Too bad for him you my fag."
      I smiled when it ducked its head and looked away, embarrassed.
      "Go play some more.  If he comes back, tell him your Daddy said you
could give him head in the bathroom."
      He turned a deeper shade of red, but nodded and scurried back to the
arcade, glancing fearfully around as he entered.  I returned to my browsing
for a while, then stopped at the café for two cups of hot chocolate.  My
slave was still in the arcade when I caught up to it, standing off to the
side, its money spent.
      "Did that guy come back?" I asked as I set the hot cocoa in front of
it, motioning for it to sit at the little table.
      "No, Daddy," it shook its head.
      "Well, you were a good boy to say no without my permission."
      I took it to the grocery store afterward, having it push the cart and
pack the groceries and load them into the car.  We both received a lot of
strange and curious looks, and I knew it was because the collar was still
locked around my slave's neck.  Though acutely aware of it, I pretended not
to notice, or to care.

      Once home my slave ran to strip immediately, flouncing back to unload
the groceries and put them away.  I purposefully sat at the table in case
it had a question as to what went where, and directed it as needed.  When
it was finished, it was embarrassed to realize it had never removed my
shoes, and dropped immediately to pull them off and kiss my feet.
      "Put my shoes away and make us lunch.  Don't bother cleaning them for
now."
      "Yes Daddy."
      Lunch was a frozen pizza, which I allowed it to eat at my feet from a
paper plate, making clean up easy.  Instructed to bring me a coffee, I
pulled him into my lap as I sat in the living room and smoked a cigarette.

      "Did you enjoy the arcade?"
      "Yes Daddy," it nodded against my chest.  I tweaked the teardrop
inside my pussy.

      "Well, you've been a good boy."
      I could hear the smile in its voice.
      "Thank you Daddy."
      My last day before returning to work, I decided to spend it lazily,
fondling and caressing my slave, allowing it to suck my cock and lick my
balls and asshole and kiss my feet.  I stroked it several times during the
day, bringing it close to climax but never allowing it to cum.  It was just
before supper that I realized I had left the g-string and scarf out in the
car and sent my slave to fetch it.
      "Put that in your drawer," I gave it the g-string, then went down
into the basement with the scarf.  Measuring about a foot of it, I cut the
piece off, crimping a clasp onto one of its ends.

      I found my slave in its `wait' spot in the kitchen and called it to
me with a flip of my finger.
      "Turn around."
      I clipped the piece onto the ring of the teardrop and sat back,
smiling.  It looked just like a furry little tail.
      "Cute," I laughed.
      I had it eat out of its dog dish on the floor so I could watch it,
its tail hanging between its spread legs as it stuck its face into its
dish.  Its face was red with degradation the whole time, which kept my cock
good and hard.  What a worthless little bitch.
      "Pee."
      It crawled quickly between my legs as I dug out my cock, its face
smeared with its dinner.  I had to soften some before I could let it out,
shooting it into its open mouth.  It clamped its lips over the head of my
cock and swallowed.
      "There you go.  Good boy," I pet its head again.
      I let it finish eating, then sent it to clean up after it had cleaned
the kitchen.  I still had a few things to wrap up before work the next day,
balancing the financials that had been sent to me throughout the week and
answering a few correspondences.  It was going to be a lazy night, just
sitting on the couch and watching the television, my slave in my lap with a
greased pussy to fondle.  In truth, training it throughout the week had
worn me out.  I also wanted to give the poor thing a break.  It had been
very obedient overall, regardless of how strict I was with it, and had
learned its place and its duties quickly.  I felt that it needed to know
that it would be cared for as well as being used and abused.

      I noticed, as it lay against my chest, that its attention wasn't on
the movie, its eyes wandering aimlessly as it thought, its hands idly
caressing my chest hairs.

      "Whatcha thinking boy?"
      It squirmed a little.
      "Can I just talk Daddy?"
      "Sure."
      "I guess I'm just thinking how I feel.  Trying to define it."  It
paused, but I didn't interrupt its thoughts.
      "I guess I can't believe that you want me like this.  I didn't even
know that I wanted this, but I do.  It's so easy, and it makes me feel so
good.  So comfortable...well, I don't know if comfortable is the right
word..."
      "Secure?"
      It thought about it a moment, then nodded.  I could see its emotions
crossing its face, from shame to embarrassment to nearly crying to happy
and accepting, with confusion and wonderment thrown in for good measure.

      "I...I guess I feel safe."
      Quite a statement, considering everything I had put him through.  I
rubbed its head again and he hugged my arm, kissing my bicep.

      "Go make some popcorn."
      I moved to the chair and let it sit on the floor between my feet
while it ate its popcorn and we finished the movie.  Yawning and
stretching, I kicked it up and out of my way, then went to pack my lunch as
it prepared my coffee pot for the morning.  Brushed, flossed, my contacts
out, I began training my slave to undress me, then told it what to set out
for me to wear to work the next day as I sat for my last cigarette.  When I
entered my bedroom it was curled up in its spot on the floor, rising to
kneel so that I could chain it to the bed frame.
      "In my bed."
      I slipped between the sheets and it climbed in eagerly beside me.
Checking the alarm, I shut off the light and pulled it up into me, turning
it over so I could spoon against its back.
      "Night Daddy," it whispered.

      I woke up an extra twenty minutes early, finding myself on my back
with my slave curled against my right side, its head cradled on my
shoulder, one arm and one leg draped over me.  It felt so good to have it
there that I didn't want to move, but knew I had to get up and get going.

      "Go pour my coffee," I poked it awake.
      Pulling on half my clothes, I dragged the rest to the bathroom so I
could pee, then finished dressing in there and popped my contacts back in,
yawning all the while.  My coffee awaited me on the table, as well as my
cigarettes and the ashtray, and I slumped down in the chair to wake up.  My
slave had run down to the basement bathroom to relieve itself, and when it
made its way up I had it bring me a note pad and a pen.
      "No breakfast for me.  You can eat when I leave."
      I pointed to the floor at my feet and told it down, then set about to
make the list of chores it was to complete for the day.  When it pressed
its lips to my socks, I told it, "no, just stay."  Tearing off the list, I
set left it on the table, then had my slave put the notepad and pen back
and fetch me the toy box, setting it at my feet.  I removed the teardrop
with the tail, then dug around the bottom for the cock cage and another
lock, shooing it off to get the lube and a bottle of baby oil from the
medicine cabinet.  The teardrop and tail slid right into its place inside
my pussy, but it took a bit to fit the cock cage, determining the proper
sized ring to go around its cock and scrotum.  A dab of baby oil, and I had
to work the cage over its slowly swelling dick, but finally got it locked
in place.
      "There's your chores," I indicated the slip on the table, then rose,
poured a cup of coffee for the road, then grabbed my lunchbox and left,
locking the door behind me.

      As soon as I was in the car, my mind was on what might await me at
work, and I never gave a second thought to my slave, going about my day as
I always did; greeting customers, directing the staff, and basically
dealing with minor little issues.  It wasn't until I pulled into the
driveway that I even remembered that it was there.
      It was squirming in its "wait" spot when I entered, standing with its
hands clasped behind its back.  As soon as I kicked off my shoes it came
running over, taking the lunchbox I held out and placing it on the counter,
then hurrying back to catch my jacket as I dropped it off my back.  Beyond
that I ignored it, going to the office to check for messages and emails.
No one had called during the day, and though I had fourteen emails, all of
them were from my "groups" and nothing important.  I did browse through the
pictures, however, my slave massaging my feet through my socks with its
hands.
      "Stand," I told it, then caressed its balls with my hand until its
cock swelled and filled the inside of the cock cage and it started moaning
uncomfortably.
      "I'm taking a nap.  Wake me up in half an hour and get supper
started."
      I ate with my slave kissing my feet, and left it my scraps for its
meal, then went about the house to inspect its work.  Once again I found
areas that it missed, flecks of lint and thread on the carpet, a corner of
a shelf with a little dust on it, and my slippers set askew on the floor in
the corner of my bedroom.  I gave a sharp whistle.
      "Yes Daddy?" it came running.
      I pointed to my slippers and it dove at them to straighten them.
Rather than calling it to "come," I snapped my fingers, strolling away to
have it follow me so I could show it its other mistakes.  It knew that it
had erred, and was shaking when I sent it to retrieve the toy box,
frightened of what I intended for its punishment.  Had I simply told it to
bring the whip, it would have known what to expect, but now it was at a
total loss.
      "Grovel," I pointed between my feet as I sat at my desk.
      It obeyed, its whole body trembling.
      Fishing through the items, I pulled out the nipple clamps and the
ball gag, snapping at it to sit up.  It grimaced as I tightened on the
clamps, its jaw clenched as it tried to suppress a painful moan.
      "Open up," I forced the ball gag into its mouth, pulling it tight
before locking it into place.  Grabbing the chain dangling between its
nipples, I pulled its face back onto the floor, then stepped on the chain
with one foot to hold it in place, my slave bent over between its spread
knees.  It grunted and gasped around the ball gag, unable to pull itself up
from this position.  Grabbing a short length of rope, I tied its hands
behind its back then set to work on my play.

      After about half an hour I loosed its wrists and sent it to fetch my
tea, then tightened the nipple clamps a little before snapping my fingers
and pointing it back down into its prior position, this time resting my
right foot on its head.  I could tell it was crying, but I ignored it.  It
was only when I had to pee that I finally let it up, a puddle of drool and
tears staining a dark spot on the carpet.
      "Go pull my tail and flush my pussy," I snapped at it.
      It ran to obey.
      I packed my lunch and prepped my coffee pot, then brushed my teeth
and removed my contacts.  Allowing my slave a quick brush of its teeth, I
took it into my bedroom and had it lay in its place on the floor at the
foot of my bed.  Rather than chain it to the footboard by its cock, I tied
its wrists together and fastened them to the footboard, doing the same to
its ankles.  Then I lubed up the large trainer butt plug and worked it into
my pussy.  I allowed it a pillow for the night, but no blanket, shutting
off the light as I went to have my last cigarette before turning in myself.
      It performed its duties much better the next day, crawling quickly to
my feet as soon as I entered the door to lick at my shoes.  I allowed it a
moment, then kicked it away, throwing my lunch box at it and dropping my
jacket onto the floor for it to put away.  It was especially attentive to
me, prancing around dressed in the black fishnet stockings and garter belt
I had given it that morning after releasing it, hurrying to remove my shoes
and kiss my feet before licking my shoes clean and putting them away.  I
retrieved the mail from the front door and sat at the table to go through
it, my slave returning to lavish its attention on my feet again.  I didn't
speak a word to it, but went about my business, returning to the table
precisely at six o'clock to eat my supper.  It was fortunate for my slave
that it had my meal ready, my place properly set as it stood in its "wait"
spot, its head hung between its shoulders.

      Once again I left it my scraps, ignoring it as I rose from the table
to go and start a fire in the fireplace.  It was only about twenty minutes
later that it started slowly down the basement stairs, fearful and
uncertain.  I allowed it to get to the bottom before snapping my fingers
and pointing at the floor next to me.
      "Grovel."
      It obeyed, its body quivering again as it waited to see what I would
do.  I simply left it there, penitent and anxious.

      "Book, tea, glasses," I said to it finally.  It rushed off, returning
promptly with my book and my reading glasses before dashing up the stairs
to get my tea.
      "Are you bathed, shaved and flushed?"
      Its mouth dropped open and its eyes went wide. So nervous, it had
forgotten.  I narrowed my eyes and turned my gaze toward it, sending it
flying up the stairs to correct its mistake.  Half an hour later it was
groveling at my feet, apologizing and begging for forgiveness between licks
and kisses.

      "You should be whipped."
      "Yes Daddy."
      I said no more, but returned to my book, finally finishing up the
last chapter.  Snapping it shut, I smacked my slave across the top of the
head with it, then thrust it at him.

      "Put it on the shelf in the living room and spread your hole over the
footstool."
      I stirred the fire one final time, then went upstairs to pack my
lunch and get ready for bed. Lighting up a cigarette, I strolled into the
living room and set the ashtray down on my slaves back, undoing my pants
and lubing up my cock, stroking it until I was good and hard before pushing
it into my pussy.  I smoked and fucked, stubbing out my cigarette at last
so I could hold my pussy in place while I fucked it hard, driving my load
in as deep as I could when my balls finally exploded.  I didn't even let my
dick get soft before I pulled out, walking to the bathroom to wipe it off
before undressing and crawling into bed.  My slave didn't even dare to walk
into the bedroom, crawling through the dark to its place on the floor as
quietly as it could.
      I remained very strict with it for the next few days, whipping it for
its indiscretion when I got home from work the next day, my slave bent over
in the middle of the kitchen and grasping its ankles while I laid into it.
Aside from its other regular duties, it spent the rest of its time with its
face buried in my crotch, sucking my cock and licking my balls.  If I had
to pee I simply stuck my cock in its mouth and let loose without warning.
It wasn't until Friday night that I eased up on it, having it clean itself
up before I dressed it to go out.
      Butch was at the bar as always, sitting at the far end near the wall.
He smiled when he saw me, taken aback a bit when he noticed my slave tight
on my heels.
      "Hey," he extended his hand in his ritual greeting.  "I see you
brought your boy toy."
      I smiled and returned the greeting.
      "You think you should be spoiling him like this?"
      I chuckled.  "Ah, it's earned it.  I've been punishing it all week,
and it's been well behaved."
       Settled into my chair and turned to my slave, pointing to the floor
next to me.
      "You stand.  I want a brandy old fashion sour with olives.  Any time
I finish my drink, you order me another one."
      "Yes Daddy," it looked down at the floor and turned away sheepishly.
"Can I have something Daddy?"
      I glared at it.
      "Do you deserve something?"
      Clamping its jaw, it shook its head.  "No, Daddy."
      "You can have a soda.  If you want something else, you have to ask
me."
      I turned my attention back to Butch and we struck up a conversation,
the bartender setting my drink at my hand several minutes later.  Butch was
interested in what had transpired all week, so I told him.
      "Damn, you're good."
      "Thank you."
      "Well, I've been browsing the chat rooms and dating sights again.
Still haven't turned up anything."
      "Well, give it time.  Do you have an ad posted?"
      "Yes, that's the first thing I did.  And you were right.  A couple of
inquiries right away, but none of them panned out."
      "Well, do what I did.  Keep the ad out there, and keep directing
potentials to it."
      He nodded.
      "Can...I get a drink Daddy," my slave asked as we paused in our
conversation.

      His soda was empty, and I was already on my second drink.
      "Yes.  Order what you want."
      "Thank you Daddy," it smiled.
      I withdrew another pile of bills from my wallet and threw them on the
bar, glancing around at the crowd.  There was an older gentleman sitting
several seats away that I could tell had been watching my slave, his gaze
drifting over toward it several times, only to look away again when he saw
me watching him.  Somewhere in his mid-sixties, he was grey and gruff
looking with a full beard and moustache, and somewhat overweight.
      "You mind if I come over again tomorrow?" Butch pulled my attention
back to him.
      "Oh, no, not at all."
      "Cool.  I'll bring a couple of steaks."
 "Sounds good."
      Our conversation wandered from there until my slave tapped me on my
shoulder.
      "Can I go pee Daddy?"
      "No," I stated flatly, perturbed by its interruption.  I turned back
to Butch and finished my statement, letting my slave wait and suffer for a
little while.  When I finally decided it was time, I directed it to follow
me, then stood behind it as I had it kneel on the floor in front of the
urinal to pee.  However bad it had needed to piss, it had a hard time of it
with me standing over its shoulder.
      As we wended our way back, I stopped to introduce myself to the
elderly gentleman who had been so intent on my slave.
      "Robert," he held out his hand.
      "This is David," I introduced my slave.  Robert smiled at it and
shook its hand as well.  I bent to whisper in its ear.
      "Give him a kiss and a good feel on his man cock."
      It ducked its head, but obeyed, stepping up to Robert and tentatively
placing its hand on his shoulder as it leaned in to kiss him, its other
hand disappearing between Roberts legs.  Robert was surprised at first, but
closed his eyes and willingly accepted the offer.  It lasted only about
thirty seconds before my slave stepped away again.  Robert's eyes were
bright over a big smile when he opened them.
      "Go back to your place," I commanded my slave firmly, loud enough for
Robert to hear.  Then I bent and kissed Robert's cheek, speaking directly
into his ear.
      "I own him."
      I returned to my seat, my slave blushing at my side as I resumed my
conversation with Butch.  Robert glanced curiously at us several times, but
eventually lost interest, though he did turn a tentative smile toward me as
I passed him on my way out.  I returned it with a smile and a nod, my slave
hurrying past him without looking at him.
      "In bed," I told my slave as I crawled in for the night.  He curled
up with his back to me automatically and I relaxed around him, drifting
almost immediately into sleep.
      It was sometime in the early morning that I woke with a raging hard
on, my bladder so full that it hurt.  Too groggy from the brandy to get out
of the bed, I rolled my slave against me once again, spitting on my
fingertips to wet my hole so I could slide my cock into it.  Once deep
inside I let loose my bladder, filling my pussy with my piss.  Some of it
dribbled out onto the bed sheet as I withdrew, but that didn't matter as I
drifted back off to sleep.  My slave would change the sheets in the
morning.  I was certain it would get up and empty itself before going back
to sleep, but I never felt it leave the bed or return.
      Butch showed up at four in the afternoon on Saturday, carrying a pack
of steaks and a six pack of beer, both of which he handed to my slave at
the door and sent it off to put them in the refrigerator before kicking off
his shoes and stripping down to his underwear, leaving it all piled in the
front entryway.

      "Where's your Master?" he interrogated my slave just as I appeared in
the doorway.
      "Hey Butch."
      "Oh.  There you are."
      We exchanged our typical greeting.
      "I was just on line with a young boy.  Well, younger.  He's thirty
two, says he wants to be a slave."
      "Really?" Butch's eyes lit up.
      "Yeah, but I'm not putting too much into it yet.  You know how that
goes."
      He sighed.  "Yeah."
      I could tell my slave was listening to the exchange as it picked up
Butch's jacket and clothes to be hung up or folded neatly, its little fur
tail dangling between it legs.
      "Oh, I brought a movie too," he said, pulling his jacket from my
slaves armload of clothes and digging into the inside pocket.  Withdrawing
it, he dropped his jacket back onto the floor.  "Ever see Fast'n'Easy?"
      Shaking my head I took it from him, looking over the cover to the
DVD.
      "Well, we'll have to plug it in later.  Finish that up," I said to my
slave, "then fetch Butch his beer and clean his boots."
      I led Butch into my office where the online slave was waiting for my
return, telling him to take over my chair and pick up the conversation.
      "This is Daddy Butch," he typed.
      "Sir?"
      "My friend tells me you want to be a slave."
      "Yes."
      I left him to feel the potential out.  About as much as I had gotten
out of him was he was a sissy boy who liked to wear panties and was willing
to relocate.  Wandering to the living room, I found my slave still licking
at Butch's boots, calling it to me with a snap of my fingers.
      "Yes Daddy?" it crawled to cower at my feet.
      I dropped my pants and got undressed, sending it to put them away and
get my robe.
      "And bring me a beer."
      I settled into my place on the couch, spreading my legs and nestling
my slave's mouth onto my cock, having it suck me slowly as I smoked a
cigarette and drank my beer.  Butch came wandering in a few minutes later,
somewhat pensive.
      "Well, what do you think?" I asked him.
      "I don't know.  Maybe.  I told him to read my ad, and if he's
interested to be online tonight at about nine."
      "Well, we better start the movie then."  I pushed my slave off my
cock.  "Go get supper started."
      "And bring me another beer," Butch added as my slave rose to obey.
Then he laughed.
      "Cute.  I hadn't noticed the tail before."
      Blushing, my slave scampered off, returning shortly with a cold beer
for Butch before running back to prepare our meal.
      "Go clean up while we're eating," I instructed, sitting down to a
dinner of steak and rice pilaf, with steamed broccoli on the side and a
piece of apple pie for dessert.  Butch began telling me about some of the
issues he was having with a couple of guys at work; how they weren't
getting along and kept creating problems for each other, as well as for
Butch.  Their supervisor ad heard all three sides of the story, and wasn't
certain which one to believe.
      "Well," I said, "a lot of that has to do with your presentation.  If
you come across that you're supporting one of them and not the other, then
it looks like you both don't like the guy and you're ganging up on him.  If
I were you, I would present it strictly from a business aspect.  Suggest
what you think would be the best solution, right or wrong, but in the
interest of the company, and not necessarily what's going to be easy or
appease any one or the other.  The right solution is going to be in the
best interest of everyone."
      He thought about that as he chewed, nodding his head.
      "Yeah, I guess I'm getting too emotionally wrapped up in it."
      We left the table to continue the movie, and it was only a short time
later that I could hear dishes being scraped and put in the dishwasher.  I
had to go check on my slave to make certain that it had eaten.
      "Yes Daddy," it replied as I pulled it into my arms, grabbing its ass
and hugging it tight to my body.
      "You pay special attention to Butch tonight."
      It smiled a little.
      "Yes Daddy."
      I took its chin and pulled it up to look at me.
      "Do you like Butch?"
      It nodded.
      "Well, try to show him that, that you're not just serving him because
you were told to.  Try to show him how much you want to serve him."
      "Yes Daddy."
      "And bring me a tea.  Darjeeling."
      As it set the tea at my side, I reached up and hooked a finger
through a loop in its collar, pulling it down to me for a kiss.  Releasing
it, I slapped its ass as it went to kiss Butch's feet.  Butch glanced at
it, then at me, then back at it before acknowledging it by positioning his
foot so my slave could suck his toes, Butch's cock beginning to swell
inside his white briefs.  My own cock was getting hard beneath my robe as I
became acutely aware of the fact that I owned a slave.  That it truly was a
slave.
      "God, now I've gotta pee," Butch complained.
      My slave scurried up between his legs and Butch laughed.
      "I'm too hard to pee now, bitch," He pulled his package out of one
side of his briefs.  "You'll just have to lick my balls for a while
instead."
      My slave gratefully obeyed, moaning quietly as its tongue lapped at
Butch's sac, its eyes fixed on Butch's rigid cock.  After a while Butch
finally softened to a point that he took his cock between his fingers,
pointing it down so my slave could take the head of it eagerly in its
mouth, moaning as he released his piss.
      "Thank you Sir," my slave panted after it had sucked it dry, covering
Butch's entire crotch with its tongue as it worked to please him, its own
hard cock now pressed firmly against its stomach.  Butch took his cock in
his hand once more and guided it into my slave's mouth to be sucked.
      "Yeah, that's right.  You're lucky your little cunt hole is good
enough for me to have my cock in."
      "Mmmm.  Mmmm.  Thank you Sir," it managed before swallowing Butch's
cock again.  Butch just smiled at me and tipped his beer back.
      The movie was almost over before I hear Butch mutter, "Aw, oh fuck."
My slave's head was bobbing up and down on his cock, its tongue flicking
out to caress his balls before sliding up the underside of his shaft.
      "That's right, bitch, suck that cock like a good whore."  Butch's
whole body was rigid with the building of his climax.  My slave's sucking
became more fervent.
      "Aw, yeah, that's right.  Open that wet little hole for my cock."
      He grabbed my slave's head in one hand and pushed it down, ramming
his cock in and out of its mouth.
      Ungh.  Yeah.  Ungh."
      He shoved in one more time, throwing his head back and squeezing his
eyes shut, a long moan starting at the back of his throat and growing
louder until it burst from his lips into a full groan, his breath heaving
as his cock pumped its load into my slave's mouth.  He heaved a couple more
times, then started to laugh, releasing my slave and allowing it to breathe
again.  Removing its mouth gently, it ducked down to kiss Butch's feet once
again.
      "Whew," Butch sighed, smiling.  I chuckled.
      "Come here, boy."
      It crawled over to me and I wrapped a hand around its head, petting
it.
      "Good boy.  You did a very good job."
      "Thank you Daddy," it kissed my hand.
      I allowed it to kiss my feet until the movie was ended, then saw
Butch off to catch up with his potential slave.  Once it fetched me a fresh
tea, I had it sit on my cock and fuck itself, jacking its cock until it
sprayed all over my chest.
      "There.  Now suck me off."
      It climbed gratefully between my legs, taking its time as it licked
and sucked, doing everything it could to make my cock feel as wonderful as
possible.  I wiped its cum into my skin, then just sat back to watch it
until I couldn't hold back any longer, grabbing it by its ears and holding
its head so that my cum shot between its lips and onto its tongue.  It
swallowed and licked and sucked at the tip of my dick, clearly grateful and
eager for more.
      "That's it for tonight, bitch.  Go get ready for bed."
      I chained it in place by its cock, then went to prepare for bed
myself, taking my time and thinking over how good my slave had become, and
how proud I was of myself for being such a good Master.  There had been a
saying at my old job that "people will always aspire to your lowest
expectations of them."
      I had set my expectations very high.
      I wandered into the bedroom and hung my robe on the closet door, my
slave rolling up onto its hands and knees in the dim light of the table
lamp.  Strolling over to it, I reached down to cup its chin, looking down
at it at it peered up at me.  I didn't say anything, I just looked at it,
rubbing my fingers through its hair, feeling the shape of its nose and its
lips with my thumb.

      I had a good slave.
      Over the next few weeks my life became very routine again, though
different than it had been before.  During the week I woke up to ready
myself for work, sitting down to a cigarette and a fresh, hot cup of coffee
served by my slave.  Feeding it, I left to face the challenges of my day,
giving it no more thought until I returned home.  Even then, it merely
became an extension of my household, much like my fireplace or my
dishwasher, performing the functions it was meant to perform as I required
it to perform them.  It found, too, that I was very much a creature of
habit, and quickly learned my routine and what to expect for the most part,
reacting and responding in accordance with my wishes often without being
told.

      For the most part it was simply kept naked and collared, my pussy
plugged with the teardrop and tail as it did its chores during the day, its
ankles shacked with the cuffs and chain.  Evenings, however, could find it
dressed in any number of outfits, from the garter belt and nylons, to
fishnet stockings and the short, sheer skirt, to crotchless panties or the
g-string or little white ruffled girly underwear with pink hearts on them.
I even bought some sexy black pasties for its nipples that dangled and
swished as it pranced around obeying my commands, its cock sometimes caged
and locked for a week or two at a time.  I gave no thought at all to what
it thought or how it felt, and even stopped registering its blushes of
embarrassment or looks of consternation.  I had too many other things to
think about, and, quite frankly, none of that was important.  It was just a
slave.
      The online slave that Butch had interviewed had turned out to be a
bust, as he had expected, but it was only about six weeks later that he had
a promising potential.  The boy was only a year older than my slave, and
after the initial interview and reading Butch's ad, it had contacted him
again, begging to be given a chance.
      "I wish you could take the time to train him for me."
      I just laughed.  "Sorry Butch, but that's something you're going to
have to do yourself.  If I trained him, then sent him to you, he might get
the impression that you're not man enough to do the job."
      But that didn't mean I couldn't coach him.
      "Just make it very clear to him from the very start what he is, and
don't ever let yourself waver from that."
      I was happy then, when, on the third Saturday of July Butch came over
for a visit, his new slave cowering meekly behind him.  We hadn't seen each
other for nearly two months, and had a lot to talk about as we lounged in
the back yard, our slaves standing to either side dressed in their skimpy
white shorts and fanning the bugs away from us and running to fetch our
drinks and our snacks.
      I yawned and stretched across the top of my bed sheets later that
night, perhaps a little more drunk than I should be, a cool breeze blowing
through the open window.
      "Up," I commanded into the darkness, and felt the bed move as my
slave crawled over the edge to curl up against me.
      "So, what did you think of Butch's slave," I mumbled sleepily into
its ear.
      "I didn't think anything of it Daddy."
      "You didn't?" I yawned again.
      "No Daddy.  I don't think of anything but you."