Date: Tue, 20 Sep 2011 02:57:01 -0700
From: MACK Wayne <mackxwayne@hotmail.com>
Subject: Slave Master Tempter Ch 3- Getting Comfortable

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

Slave Master Tempter

Ch 3 - Getting comfortable

	The average looking, fully dressed, Max went into the room - opened
the door, and invited Jake in.  Jake rose and moved quickly.  As he passed
into the room, Max put his hand on Jake's shoulder and spoke.  "I'm kind of
weird - I know, and I'm a bit of a control freak, but I want you to relax
and humor me if you will.  After all I've taken a chance on bringimg you
here, and I'm trusting in your confidence - " There was that word again -
the one that was already Jake's undoing, " - to show you very private, very
sensitive matters, right?" Jake agreed readily and thanked Max for allowing
him the privilege of coming to see his slave.  Max continued. "I think
maybe we could have a good working relationship together.  Remember how you
talked about having my help to capture you a slave and how you would enjoy
working with and learning from me?" Jake remembered the conversation in the
car on the way over, "Well, if I see a cooperative spirit, lots of things
could be possible.  But remember Jake," Max patted the shoulder and then
removed his hand and sat down on the comfortable leather sofa, "You're the
junior here. You're the one who never had the balls to turn what you really
want into reality right?"
	The standing, vulnerable, naked, hairy, handsome, muscular,
unwitting stud, rather embarrassingly shrugged his shoulders and sheepishly
nodded with a grimace of resignation to the cold hard truth of the matter
as Max continued with a kind of lecture, "You told me you were in the
service.  So just think of me as your Commanding Officer like when you were
in the Army."
	The reflection of Army days flashed before him, and an easy
automatic, "Yes Sir!" came right out.  As he began to stand at automatic
attention Max spoke, "Just stand easy.  That's right - feet at shoulder
width - hands behind your back until I've finished my little speech.  And
what's with the socks?  I thought I said strip."
	Jake awkwardly and quickly worked at pealing off one of the loose
cream-colored wool athletic socks then the other exposing the sexy
gradation again of tan to white at lower calves, as Max's hand was held out
making the distinct expectation of their deposit, "Sorry Sir," he said
embarrassingly, handing them over.  This "little speech," of Max's would be
the inception of Jake's mental conditioning, and beginning with a
correction - even though a minor one - throwing him slightly off guard, was
a good way to start.
	It felt a little strange.  Jake hadn't addressed anyone as "Sir,"
since the Army, "but it was no big deal," he thought to himself.  He
assumed the not unfamiliar position directed (although he didn't remember
doing it naked) and listened while Max resumed.
	"Ok. So just remember that in this situation I am the leader you
are the follower.  I'm the one who has the balls to do what needs to be
done.  You are not.  I am the instructor.  You are the student - AND - " he
added, " - Yes Sir, and No Sir, will do nicely for now.  So until further
notice don't use my name.  Do you think you understand what I've said my
boy?"
	Jake was pretty quick on the response, "I think so Sir." The "Sir"
was just a little reticent, and Max let it slide.
	"We'll see," Max said, "I hope so."
	Max's intention was to play with and push the naked beauty standing
in front of him right now, as far as he could without the use of any force,
with just the drug and some alcohol to help him to be relaxed and
cooperative.  It was a challenge and a game Max would revel in.  He
continued, "So for starters why don't we relax here a little bit.  I want
to get to know you better.  That ok with you?"
	"Sure," is what came out, but fairly quickly it was caught and even
apologized for, "I'm sorry.  I mean, Yes Sir!"
	"Atta boy." The congratulatory phrase again repeated, was a subtle
condescension to start Jake on his trip downward, "So why don't you take
those beautiful white buns of yours to my bar over there - " Max pointed
across the room for Jake to look and see, " - and fix us another drink
while we talk, Ok?"
	"Ok," came naturally as a learned response, but Jake realized
immediately, issued another apology, and corrected himself.  He walked over
to the bar with Max's eyes glued to the flexing and relaxing bubble cheeks
doing their muscular, so erotic, dance.
	"You really are a pretty thing," More condescension disguised in a
simple impersonal pronoun, and the start of his dehumanization hidden
underneath a compliment.  Jake blushed and got his response right this
time.
	"Thank you Sir."
	Another "Atta boy," with an accompanying, "That's more like it."
	The drinks were made quickly.  Everything needed was right there.
He was told to make them strong - and they were.  His dick and balls
flopped back and forth in front of muscular thighs thick enough to restrict
their hanging between, as he returned and set them down on the coffee
table.  Recalling the word, "relax," he began to sit in the leather chair
adjacent to the sofa when Max spoke up. "I'd be able to see you better if
you were over here." He pointed to the floor in front of him and next to
the coffee table.
	"Ok Sir." Jake caught himself before actually sitting down and
walked over to where his host was pointing.
	"Why don't you kneel right here - yeah - that's good.  And let's
loose the Ok's.  What happened to that, Yes Sir, we decided would work fine
- eh?"
	The recalcitrant Jake apologized again and corrected himself.  It
was time for more of the drug.  Max had at first planned to mix it in
Jake's drink covertly.  But he decided to have Jake spike his own drink,
"That would definitely be more entertaining," he thought to himself.  He
set the stage.  "I know this is all new to you and you're doing Ok, but you
seem to be having a little trouble showing the proper respect for your
Commanding Officer.  I think you can do much better - don't you?"
	"Yes Sir.  I'm sorry Sir.  I'll do better Sir." was the responsive
apologetic reply.
	"So here," Max handed Jake a capsule, "Open this up - " Jake did so
with a puzzled look on his face, " - and pour it into your glass."
	"Really Sir?  I don't know - " came the hesitant reply.
	Max wanted to slap him silly but remembered his goal of getting
Jake to go as far as possible on his own, so he restrained himself.  "It's
just something to help you relax and be more receptive for me.  You just
said you'd do better didn't you?"
	"Yes Sir."
	"Well then listen to the sound of my voice and feel yourself
wanting to do what I tell you." The programming was beginning, but Max knew
the boy was ready and knew how to exact precisely what he wanted.  Jake
held the capsule over the drink and paused.  "Remember that pretty slave
downstairs in that cell you're going to get to see and maybe use, and just
go ahead." He started - still fighting himself - to tip the capsule over,
"That's right boy," came the words of authoritative encouragement, "Pour it
in."
	His instinct was to close his eyes so he wouldn't see himself doing
it, but he watched wide-eyed as he emptied the contents of the little clear
gel cap into his own drink.
	"There ya go," Max handed him another one, "Now this one."
	"Oh please Sir - couldn't I just take one?  Please?  I did the one.
Isn't that enough?" He'd already "done one" unaware.  This would be two and
three.
	Max simply pointed to the glass.
	"Please - " Jake looked at Max's peeved expression.
	Max snapped his fingers, and the capsule's contents were added to
the glass.  He was told to stir it in with his finger, which he did, and
then to lick the finger and drink it down.  He sipped and was scolded.  "I
said drink it down!" The harsh tone of Max's voice caught Jake up short,
and he guzzled the rest without stopping.
	"You need to trust me as the one in charge that I know what and how
much is best.  I would never do anything other than what's best." Now THAT
was a loaded statement if ever there was one - true but loaded.  It WOULD
be "what's best," best for Max and for his program and plan of action. "Now
go over and make yourself a drink so we can relax and talk a while."
	"Yes Sir." Came as he was rising to his task.  He returned fresh
drink in hand, and knelt back down in his place - his mind becoming more
dependent on outside input and suggestible to Max's will and direction.



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