Date: Fri, 23 Sep 2011 20:16:14 -0700
From: MACK Wayne <mackxwayne@hotmail.com>
Subject: slaveMaster Tempter Ch - 4

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


slaveMaster Tempter

Ch 4 - The Cat and His - becoming fuzzy - mouse

	"Now that wasn't so hard was it?"
	"No Sir."
	"When you're really sincerely feeling it, I want you to apologize
to me for you're obvious lack of trust, and your disrespect, and hesitation
to do what you were told by your CO."
	"Yes Sir."
	"So. In a little while, were going to go down and see that
beautiful pet of mine.  Are you excited?  Another milestone had been
reached with Jake and Max was feeling good.  He discussed the slave with
Jake and got him hopped up about it again.  As they talked, Max encouraged
Jake to play with himself.  The drug - or drugs - or "augmentation" as Max
liked to refer to it - was working.  Inhibitions were dissipating.  Max was
reminding him of all the reasons he had to be respectful of him.  He was
totally receptive, and hadn't slipped once with the Sir's.  It wasn't long
before he poured out a heart-rending apology for his lack of trust, and the
hesitation, and parroted all the reasons he had for his respect of Max.
	As Max relaxed fully dressed - feet up on the coffee table - the
hot, naked, Jake stayed kneeling on the floor where he been put.  In an
induced haze, he'd been lazily enjoying his big dick and it was hard like
iron.  Max decided to give the boy a new problem to grapple with now that
the drug was beginning to manifest fairly fully - although the added double
dose hadn't peaked just yet.  He addressed his unwitting victim.  "I want
to look through your wallet.  Run in the other room and get it for me would
you?" - not, "go get," - but, "run and get . . ."
	"You want my wallet Sir?" There were the beginnings of resistance.
	"Yes. Your wallet!  Don't get stupid on me here Private!  Chop -
chop!  In fact, while you're at it, go ahead and just bring me your pants!"
The stern tone made him bustle.  Issuing his proper and required response,
the boy got up and - as the operative word had suggested - hurried toward
the door to the room where he'd left his clothes.  It didn't feel quite
right, but he couldn't think why as he went in - grabbed his pants off the
hook on the wall and rushed back to Max's out held hand.  The increasingly
accommodating "recruit," gave them to his superior, and with Max's reminder
- in the form of pointing and snapping his fingers - resumed his former
position.  Max introduced some appropriate programming.  When your CO tells
you to do something you are happy to do it.  It makes you feel really good
to accommodate without hesitation - and accepting I know what's best means
you don't have to waste time and energy to think.  Your mind wants that
desperately.
	He capped the little hypno session with verbal affirmation, "So let
me hear you say, "No hesitation Sir - no thinking Sir - just following your
orders," He parroted it like a Cockatoo, only for the bird its just sounds
- with the boy it was thought adjustment.  The Army training was a plus for
Max's goals.  There was enough of that for the boy to relate to - which was
good.  The great advantage Max had over the drill sergeant however, was the
chemical augmentation affecting the boy's softening mind and
consequentially compliant body.  It made months worth of traditional
training become instantly manifested.  And Max was a big fan of instant
gratification.
	With complete familiarity and utter presumption, Max maneuvered the
pants to access the pocket worn from the wallet's presence - reached in and
pulled it out, "There we go," Max said with confidence.  He held up the
personal - never before handled by anyone else - item, "Ok if we go over
things together here?" he asked.  For a moment's hesitation before
responding, Max gave suggestive prompt, "Here's what I'd like to hear you
say for me.  Just listen and repeat.  It will make perfect sense to you."
It WOULD in fact make perfect sense to the naked lad, thanks to the
hypnotropic portion of the drug now coursing through Jake's body.  It and
the Sodium Pentothal derivative were making major changes in the boy's
normal and usual thought processing.
	Jake's suggestibility factor was increasing by the minute, and he
was becoming more & more cooperative as the words to be used were
programmed by Max for him to repeat, "Of course Sir. You have entrusted me
with great confidences (uhh right - he knew nothing about the man) You have
told me about your slave and invited me to see it (so far he hadn't seen
anyone.)  You've allowed me to come here to your private place (never could
have found it again in a thousand years, and he was locked up like a
prisoner in a jail which he could not possibly have escaped.)  The least I
can do is entrust you with my confidences." He was coached through an exact
affirmative recitation of the phrasing, and the result - an open invitation
for an unquestioning, obligatory, and perfectly logical, privacy invasion.
	Max opened the wallet as if it were his own, and took everything
out.  Jake didn't even remember himself what all was in there, but he knew
that all the critical important personal and private things were - bank and
credit cards, driver's licenses for car and bike, some personal pictures,
names and numbers, sex club cards, vehicle registrations, insurance - all
the personal things a man would expect to carry assuming they would be
secure - un-invaded.  Nothing's quite as troubling as being violated by
having your wallet stolen.
	Max casually manipulated the stuff all relatively sized the same as
if playing solitaire - arranging things by what ever order was pleasing to
him.  Jake watched all his things no one else had ever touched before
sorted, and listened as his mentor (or would it be his tormentor) spoke,
"You can tell a lot about someone by the contents of their wallet.  Did you
know that?"
	"No Sir.  I never thought about it." Nor would he stop to consider
the reason Max would know that, might just be because he'd violated the
privacy of many others in exactly the same way.
	"So lets take a look here." Jake watched his Commanding Officer
leaf comfortably through every item with comments to himself as he went
along, "uh huh" - then the next item - "uh huh," with hands dutifully
behind his back as if standing at ease - Jake was kneeling at ease.  He
felt every bit as berated and subdued as he remembered feeling at the hands
of his drill sergeant in boot camp.  It was the sergeant's job to
essentially break the recruit of thinking for himself.  He did it through
subjugation and yelling and belittling in front of the other recruits,
though.  There was some similarity to that operational framework happening
here - enough to stimulate recall of the military experience and how
necessary and essential it had been - how everyone had adapted to it - how
everyone was EXPECTED to adapt to it - how he had done the same thing once
before. The advantage Max had over his recruit/ his victim/ his dupe, was
the efficiency of the essential drugs.  Their combination with alcohol was
advised against by the manufacturers because of just the effect they were
having - essential to Max's intents and goals - sublimation of inhibitions,
and suppression of reasoning ability.  Max was nothing if not studied in
the use of his methodologies.
	He reminded Jake he could play with himself and think about what
ever he wanted as he perused/ nosed through all of his most personal
things.
	"Thank you Sir," he said, as he stroked his waning stiffy back to
full attention, and pinched a tit with the other hand.  He closed his eyes
and imagined the slave in the cell downstairs - the human dog.
	"What are u thinking about?" Max asked, observing him & breaking
his concentration.
 	"Your human dog downstairs Sir," he said, opening his eyes.
	"Ah - good thought.  You really want to see that don't you?
	"Yes Sir."
	"I promise, you will.  There's plenty of time for that.  But for
now - " Max continued, " - I'd like to go over these things.  That's Ok
with you right?" he bated.  The mind of his captive was being conditioned
and was softening toward unimpeded acceptance of Max's steering and
proposals. "Resistance free," was what Max was going for.
	"Yes Sir," came with relative ease - and then some further thought
management from Max.
	"The dog is secured to an apparatus you wont believe.  You are
going to be shocked and amazed, I'm sure.  So - " he continued casually, "
- go ahead and play with yourself, and think about the slave while we
tackle what's in front of me here," he pointed to Jake's empty wallet and
all its exposed contents.
	Jake wanted to ask what Max meant by, "plenty of time." He should
really be, leaving by 8 AM, he thought to himself, and it was getting
later.  "I really want to play with that slave like Max said I could," he
thought.  He wanted to interrupt Max and say these things, but something
prohibited him.  Maybe, it was not wanting to piss him off again, "Besides
- " he thought to himself, " - he did let me in on a very big confidence
bringing me here."
	"We need a totally trusting relationship," Max said, holding &
looking at the first of Jake's wallet items - his drivers license, "I want
you to know there's nothing you can't tell me or admit to me - nothing you
would ever need to keep from me. You know where I live, & what I have in my
cellar - I've given you my complete confidence.  I want yours in return,"
he lectured, instilling a sense in his victim of indebtedness - of
obligation - and of guilt, for any thought of withholding it.
	What he had given Jake was nothing - lots of conversation, but all
one sided - the extraction of as much personal information as possible from
him without revealing anything about himself.  Max had taken him on a
circuitous route coming here in his somewhat cloudy state, which he never
would be able to duplicate.  He'd only been told what was in the cellar -
not witnessed it (yet) - given a fictitious name - seen a still disguised
appearance - and in exchange Max would prod, and probe, and require all of
Jake's private matters.
	"This is as good a place to start as any," he said focusing on the
license in hand, "So the birth date I see here says you're 29 years old.
You're a Taurus - April 26th - coming up soon.  You're gonna be an old man
of 30 soon," he said chuckling, and requiring agreement from the beauty
stroking himself before him.  Here's your address in Pennsylvania.  I want
to talk with you about that later." He read off the address - eye & hair
color - weight - no requirement for glasses - which he congratulated, "Says
here you're an organ donor - hmmm honorable," He feigned thoughtfulness,
with lecherous, lascivious images filling his mind.
	He put the license down, "That was informative.  Ah - your business
card.  You're in business for yourself - contractor - shows initiative.
Are you good at what you do?"
	"Yes Sir."
	"You thinking about that slave?"
	"Yes Sir."
	"What are you thinking about him?
	"Was thinking about the apparatus you said it was hooked up to
Sir."
	"Well he's straight - and just to add to your curious anticipation,
I will tell you it involves him violating himself.  It's really great.
	"Cool Sir."
	"Very cool.  Like I said - you'll be impressed."
	He picked up the credit cards and bankcards and shuffled casually
through them.  He stopped at one, read the name of the bank and the account
number.
	"Is there money in this account?" He asked.
	"Yes Sir."
	"How much?"
	"About four thousand dollars Sir."
	"See," Max congratulated, "See how easily and completely you are
trusting me.  Good boy.  That's just what I want - and expect - " he added,
" - in order for us to work together.  I need to know I have your complete
trust.  I'm not going to ask you now - " he said putting Jake just slightly
at ease about the next probative inquiry, " - but I bet you use the same
password for all your financial things for convenience sake.  You seem like
the kind of guy that likes to keep things simple.  Am I right?
	"Right Sir," he admitted to his inquisitor.
	"That's what I thought.  Simple is good," he said emphatically.
	Max told Jake how good it was for him to feel so free to divulge
things like his financial information, and to feel lucky about having the
privilege of doing so with someone he respected and trusted so completely.
He took to setting a card or item down on the table in front of Jake and
saying, "Tell me all about this." If he felt he wasn't getting enough
information on the item or that he was holding something back, Max would
ask pointed questions in order to extract everything.
	Jake was singing like a bird, and he was feeling more comfortable
each time Max put a new item down.  It was going so well Max decided to do
the whole wallet while he was at it.  He made Jake stop and think about
what he was doing.
	"Look at yourself boy.  See how relaxed you are.  See how receptive
you are to everything I decide - how good it makes you feel?" He continued
before Jake could answer, "You're trusting me that I know what's best more
than you trust your own judgment.  When you hear me speak, it feels so good
to follow what I tell you to do." Max made Jake thank him for the drug,
which was helping him to be so receptive, and for how it was making things
simpler for him.  The more he relaxed the more the drug took its effect.
It was cyclical and Jake was definitely riding that cycle.  He was still in
control of the physical, but increasingly anything he normally would have
chosen for himself, gave way to anything Max wanted him to think.  And
anything Max said or suggested, increasingly made more sense.  Max was
using the drug and his talents to hypnotize the now receptive lad and was
getting closer and closer to complete control of his thought processes.
	The wallet was finished except for the photos.  Max had saved them
for last since he was allowing for them offering potential for problems.
He sensed they were family, and Jake had alluded in the bar when Max was
manipulating the conversation there, that he would die to protect them.
Max liked having information on anyone the victim cared about.  It always
insured more unconditional cooperation.
	He already knew there was family somewhere on the east coast and he
had a plan.  He put the pictures aside on the table - picked up the pants
and shook them. He reached in the pocket where the noise was coming from
and pulled out Jake's keys.  He put the ring of keys in front of him. Each
one was identified without a problem.  Regarding the house keys, Max
lightly joked with Jake and chuckled as he did so. "I bet you don't have
need of my kind of security in the woods of Pennsylvania huh boy?" It was
always, "boy," now.  Jake was fast being led away from the image he'd had
of himself for so long as a man and a "top man" at that.
	"No Sir." Jake smiled with his reply. "Just the locks on the
doors."
	"That's what I thought.  No watch dogs either I bet?"
	"No Sir."
	Max kept it light to maintain his prey's sense of ease.  He loved
the game.  "Well, it's nice to know there's still some safe places in the
world huh boy - not like here eh?"
	"Yes Sir." He followed with an account of a few robberies in his
town but not many.  He said he'd considered putting an alarm in because his
place was "kinda isolated," but he said that would have defeated his
relaxed feeling about the place.  "Besides," he said, "I don't live fancy.
I don't think there's anything anyone would want there."
	"Don't you keep important papers, and porno, and an address book,
and money, locked up somehow?" Max pried.  Jake said if he had a lot of
money in the house he kept it in a fireproof box in his closet.  He'd been
meaning to get a lock box at the bank for some things but never had.  Other
than that, really everything was either in his desk or the table by his
bed.  "Gun in the night stand maybe?" Max asked, with faked jest.  Jake
said he didn't own one.  He wasn't into hunting or anything, he said, so
he'd never purchased one.
	Max had couched the address book query in with other things to
allay any suspicions on Jake's part, but that was what he wanted to know
about, and again had succeeded.  He was feeling proud of himself.  One more
step and then the pictures.  He put a blank piece of paper in front of
Jake, and a pen.
	"Now. Fair is fair boy.  You know how to get to my house, so I want
to know how to get to your house.  If I'm going to have dealings with you,
I need this information on file.  I don't know if I'll ever go there,
because I prefer you being here - you know what a control freak I am."
	Jake chuckled an affirmative, "Yes Sir!" Max would normally have
called him down for interrupting, but he let it slide so as not to loose
the ease of the moment.  It was too critical.
	"So pick up the pen - " He did so, " - and write simple directions
from the George Washington Bridge, and then clarify from leaving the last
major highway in PA with a very clear map on the back.  Understand?" (Truth
be known, Jake couldn't have found Max's place again if his life depended
on it.)
	"Yes Sir," came the answer, as he started to write, and just as pen
hit paper as if on cue, the phone rang.
	"Hello." - - - - - "No you're not interrupting at all." Max stood
to stretch along side the kneeling dutiful figure.  He ran his fingers
across the naked drugged beauty's short-cropped haircut.  "Just getting
acquainted with someone." - - - - - "Jake." - - - - - "Yea I know, great
name - but not as great as the look.  Just your type in fact." Jake was
supposed to over hear and could be seen blushing, "No.  He's right here
next to me naked as a jaybird working on a little assignment I've given
him." - - - - - "No. No idea." - - - - - "When I feel like it.  I'm having
too much fun." Max rubbed the bristly head, "Sure come on over.  He'd love
that.  Big cocks are right up his alley." - - - - - "I'll be sure of that."
- - - - - "A half hour would be fine." - - - - - "He came here to see what
a real slave is like." - - - - - "You're right about that." - - - - -
"Yep. Ok see you in a bit."
	He shut the phone off and laid it down.  The one sided conversation
Jake had heard was with Bob, and he was on his way over to inspect his
potential purchase.  Max walked to the bar to refresh his drink.  Jake
heard the clinking and looked over.  "Would you like me to do that for you
Sir?"
	"You just worry about your assignment there boy," Max said half
scoldingly, and pointing to what he'd been doing.  That was a client.  Play
your cards right and you can help me close this deal.  There would be
something in it for you.  You're just his type.  Don't blow this deal for
me boy.  He loves accommodation from boys like you - so be on your best
behavior.  Help me out here & humor him at any cost - will you?  It's very
important to me.  You would go a long way toward proving yourself in my
eyes.
	Jake - feeling just a bit uneasy, answered respectfully, "Yes Sir.
I'll do my best Sir," and kept writing.  Max strolled toward him, finger
stirring his fresh drink and licking the tip of his damp digit.  "How's
your asshole boy?  Keep it pretty clean do you?"
	"I wash it good every time I shower Sir."
	"You think it's clean up inside boy?"
	"I'm not sure Sir."
	Max bent the beautiful boy over the map he was drawing and pushed
him down on the coffee table, "Lets see about that," Max stuck his middle
finger deep into Jake's mouth, as his head lay sideways against the
tabletop.  "Lube it up good for me so your CO can check it out." Jake
slurped and salivated till the finger was withdrawn.  As Max got behind the
boy, he said, "Spread 'em boy!" Almost automatically, Jake reached back,
put one hand on each cheek, and pulled them apart.  As the finger roughly
seated itself Jake pleaded.
	"Please Sir!  Owww! That hurts Sir."
	Max thrust it in full depth, wiggled it around for a moment and
yanked it abruptly out.  He told Jake to kneel up and face him as he
examined the semi stained finger, "I don't know boy.  What do you think?"
With that he parted Jake's lips with it and stuck it in his unwilling
mouth.  "Seems dirty to me."
	Jake gagged and his face contorted as he tried to back away and
speak around the finger.  What he was trying to say was, "God! Sir!
Please!  It tastes terrible." But Max kept his finger in place and only
gibberish escaped the handsome face.
	"If you're going to work with me you will learn I like cleanliness.
Look around.  It's very important to me.  Guess it was dirty huh boy?" Jake
nodded with the finger still between his lips, "Well let's do something
about that!" Max handed Jake two large Fleet suppositories and told him to
shove them as far up his ass as he could get them with his finger.  He
unwrapped them and did as he was told.  He was instructed to move the
finger around for a while and then to withdraw it.  "Now clean that one
too!" He looked with horror at the shit-covered digit wishing it would
disappear. "Now! And I want to see you do it like it was icing from your
mother's mixing bowl.  Now work on it until it's completely clean.  And
finish that map while you're at it."
	Like a new recruit, he obeyed Max's harsh orders.  He stuck the
awful shitty finger in his mouth and shuddered from the acrid taste -
picked up the pen, finished the map like he was told, and handed it to his
new Commanding Officer.  He was asked if there was something he'd like to
say while cleaning his finger.  Embarrassed - the appropriate apology came
forth around the finger being sucked.
	Max took the map and the keys and left the room with Jake still
sucking. The taste was dissipating but not the humiliation.
	Outside the room Max called to one of his men, "Mario!" Mario came
running and listened to Max's orders, "Take Buddy with you.  Go to this
address.  It should take you about two and a half hours.  Here are the
directions.  These keys right here are for the house.  I want you in and
out before light breaks.  In the desk in the den, or in the nightstand is
an address book.  I want it.  Bring something small like a special
knick-knack or memento or something as well.  There's a lock box in the
closet, bring that too.  Give the car keys to Buddy and follow him to our
chop shop friends with the car by the door.  Tell Ôem I want two grand for
it."
	"No problem boss.  Will you be ok here just with Dieter?" Dieter
was Max's third, and other loyal aid and assistant.
	Max told Mario he didn't anticipate any serious problems with "this
one" at all, and Dieter's help would be plenty adequate for anything that
would arise.  The three men were all strong and accomplished at suppressing
any physical resistance but Dieter was the biggest of them.  At 6'4" and
280 pounds of solid German muscle, the blond giant could eliminate most
problems with one hand behind his back.
	Max told Mario he was ready, however, for Dieter to come up and
stand watch outside the room here in the hall and to tell him so when he
went down.  The men had an uncommon bond and an unusual sense of family.
And there was never a problem obeying Max's orders.  They took lavish
vacations, drove hot cars, and had a great condo for time away from Max's
facility, as well as good pay.  When anyone asked about their jobs, they
were bodyguards for an international conglomerate, and were not at liberty
to say more.  Their loyalty was unwavering.
	Max re-entered the room.  He closed the door and spoke
boisterously, "Ok! How we doing with that finger?  It must be clean by now
huh?" Jake nodded but waited for the word to take it out of his mouth.  The
order was given and the clean finger removed.  Max let him feel a false
sense of security as he rubbed Jake's fuzzy head again and lectured his
acquisition in a fatherly way to re-inspire him after his first distasteful
assignment.  He didn't think he had, but wanted to insure there was no loss
of his accomplished ground.
	"Don't ever back away from me like that boy.  If you hadn't
resisted my finger, you wouldn't have had to suck your own clean.  Now let
me hear you say you're sorry." Max sat back - sipped his drink and listened
as the drugs, led Jake into a bashful apology.  He tried to explain, and
Max cut him off real quick.  "No excuses boy.  Just an apology will do."
Max coached him on what to say about not trusting him to know what's best.
He helped him admit he was behaving like an ingrate - another step - among
many - in the process of controlling his victim.  Apology over, Max
congratulated Jake and said, "Well. Now that that disappointment is behind
us, my client will be here shortly.  I hope you're not going to embarrass
me while he's here boy.  Lets not loose any of the wonderful progress
you've made, ok?  Make me proud.  It's a big deal."
	"Yes Sir," came from a still apologetic demeanor.
	"He may want to talk with you - and ask you some things - and maybe
do a few things with you.  But I want you to feel perfectly free to respond
to whatever he wants just as you would with me.  He's a good man and he
deserves your best efforts just like I do.  Right?" Without leaving room
for a response, Max continued.  "So while we wait for him, lets finish up
here." All that was left on the table that hadn't been resolved were the
photos.
	Max picked up the pictures and watched the face of his reluctant
guest begin to redden.  He slowly laid them out before him on the table in
a row.  "Now tell me about these." There was an obvious hesitation, which
Max waited through in pregnant silence.  Jake was short-circuiting and
trying to come up with something even through the drugs, that would satisfy
and not anger his mentor.
	He pointed to the first of the three photos, "This is my good
friend Sir and the picture was taken in Disneyland last summer.  We had a
great time together and I love him like a brother Sir."
	"Uh-Huh?" Was Max's leading response.
	Jake pointed to another and said simply, "And these Sir, are my
sister and her family." (then pointing to the next ones) " - and my
brothers and their families, (and pointing to the last one) " - and this
was taken of everyone last year at Mom and Dads house Sir."
	"OK," Max said as if everything was fine, "Lets go back to the
first one." He could see Jake getting uneasy and he loved it.  "I believe
you said that was your good friend.  Is that right?"
	"Yes Sir," was said, with the lilt of a question in the
tone. "Please can I not say any more?"
	Max pushed on. "Would you say since he is the only friend in your
wallet that he's your best friend boy?" Jake concurred, "And does your best
friend have a name?" an uneasy answer in the affirmative, "And what is it?"
Max pressed.
	"Please Sir? I'd rather not say Sir. I'd like to tell you and I
hope you're not pissed at me Sir.  But Sir I just can't Sir." The Sirs were
flowing to try to placate Jake's inquisitor who was still calm and
conversational.
	"Ok how about just a first name? Surely you don't have a problem
with that."
	"Actually like yours Sir, it's Max Sir."
	"And where does Max live?"
	"Please Sir, I can't say. I'm sorry Sir but I just can't risk
implicating these people in what I do Sir.  Please don't be angry Sir."
	Calmly Max spoke, "Well I am angry for your not trusting me, but -
" He gathered the photos together and stacked them into a pile again and
laid them aside, " - we can take care of that later.  I'm not going to let
it ruin our evening.
	The befuddled Jake stammered a reply "Yes Sir.  I mean No Sir.  I
mean - I'm really sorry Sir."
	"I understand boy.  You'd do anything at all to protect the ones
you love wouldn't you boy?"
	"Yes Sir!"
	"That's a good trait.  I like that.  We'll worry about it later."
Max had extracted all he needed and Jake was relieved that the matter
seemed to have been shelved - and without too much problem.  "So - you must
be feeling an urge to go to the bathroom?"
	"Yes Sir.  It's getting stronger."
	"Well - " Max said coolly, " - you let me know when you can't hold
it any longer." He told Jake that when he gave the word he would go into
the next room and take care of business - douche out with the hose in the
shower, and wash waist down only.  The upper half was not to be wet or
touched and left unwashed.  Unbeknownst to the boy, Max didn't want to
disturb the great natural smell he had working from the nervous sweating
the boy'd been doing.  Bob loved those smells, and they would definitely
help clinch the impending deal.
	A short time passed before Jake announced his difficulty "holding
it," respectfully saying he'd like to, "go take care of it," as he put it.
Max scolded him for making a self-serving pronouncement instead of asking
permission.  He said, consequently, Jake would have to wait until his
client arrived, and then see if he could speak more appropriately regarding
the matter.




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