Date: Wed, 19 Oct 2011 20:07:16 -0700
From: MACK Wayne <mackxwayne@hotmail.com>
Subject: "slaveMaster Tempter"  Ch - 9

     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 - 9 Going home

	As Dieter left to carry out his assignment , Jake couldn't believe
what he'd just heard, but he was silent, "And bring one of the my large eye
droppers back with you." While Dieter was accomplishing his errand of
malfeasance, Max gave Jake assistance in finishing his monolog of thanks to
Bob.  Through Jake's willing compliance with his COs lead and direction, he
said - among other things - how excited and thankful he was to know he
would be able to have Bob's load back inside him, and how privileged it
made him feel.
	Max held a jar to Jake's dick and said one word, "Piss!" Jake let
fly with praises, and thanks, and a torrent of urine, all at the same time.
Max commended Jake for not asking to piss.  He questioned if the boy was
afraid to do so.  When Jake admitted he was, Max said it pleased him, and
that it was an excellent sign.
	Jake acknowledged the "compliment" politely, wanting to add any
positive points he could, with these vague and unsettling circumstances,
"Thank you Sir." He was hoping this was some kind of test or initiation to
be able to work with Max - with his Commanding Officer - and that he was
passing.
	Dieter returned with the mug - the collection spoon in it, and the
eyedropper, and handed them to Max.  Max held the glass up to Jake's face
and mashed and stirred some of the softened shit into the offensive
contents, "That's better," was the proclamation made with satisfaction in
his voice.  The slime was now shit stained.  "There.  Got rid of that
feminine pink color.  Now it looks like something you'd really WANT to
drink doesn't it?" Jake was trying to breathe through his mouth so as not
to smell the vile mixture inches from his face, but Max held it under his
nose and told him to close his mouth.  Max took the large eyedropper and
filled it from glass.  He tipped the poor boy's head back, and held the
filled dropper to Jake's left nostril, "Now just pretend this is nose drops
and when I tell you to, you sniff.  Now SNIFF!" he hollered, squeezing the
bulb of the dropper at the same time. Jake got a nostril full of shit, cum,
spit, lube, blood, and ass mucus, which got sucked through his nose into
his throat.  By sheer will power he kept himself from hurling as Max loaded
up the eyedropper again.  "Ok. Lets do the other one," he said, as he held
it to Jake's right nostril and performed the same foul deed.
	Now he would not only have to smell it, but would smell it with
every breath.  The stench was unbearable.  The full on taste would be
worse.  Keeping the boy's head tipped back, he gave the next instruction,
"Open up," he said fingering Jake's lips.  Max held the mug over the
opening and tipped it as he and Bob and Dieter watched the shit stained,
jism-rich, slime cocktail, begin to repossess Jake's body.  With this "head
still tipped back," first taste, he was given just enough to swirl around
in his mouth with the instruction to, "give it a good coating." His head
was allowed to return to normal and the rest he would be made to beg for
and consume in sips.  Max drug the game out for what seemed an eternity to
the boy.  He was forbidden to look anywhere other than at the glass full of
his ass cocktail, and when he wasn't sipping it into his mouth, he had to
convince Max that he needed and wanted more - pleading for it until it was
all consumed.  Only thoughts of home kept him from loosing the swill right
in the face of his CO.  But he drank it thimble full after thimble full and
he kept it down.
	The vile exercise over - Max put the glass down and rubbed Jake's
head fondly as he spoke. "Well," he said, "I guess the time is here
fuckhole." Jake's eyes lit up.  Max rubbed his head as you would a child's,
and then stepped back - still in the light.  "You have truly been a lot of
fun.  I've enjoyed every minute of this.  But all good things must come to
an end, and I did say you would be going home," Max walked around behind
the humiliated brunt of their fun and games.  He told Jake to open his
mouth and as he did so, Max reached over the boys head - inserted the
familiar red gag, and buckled the straps behind Jake's neck.
	"It's ok for you to talk now whenever you feel like it.  I know
there's going to be things you'll want to say so feel free - so-to-speak."
The last comment elicited a chuckle in the room as the handsome victim
wrapped his teeth and lips around the firm unwanted ball.  The taste of
rubber however, was a welcome counterbalance to the taste of the his own
shit and blood, Bob's cum, the lube, and everyone's freely offered
contributions of saliva.  Max began his informative little lecture as he
patted Bob's new fuck on its ass cheek. "I'm going to send you home soon.
That's what you wanted isn't it boy?"
	"Yes Sir!" was indistinguishable, but very obvious from around the
attractive red rubber lingual obstruction.
	"You've been getting a lot of what you want here.  You wanted very
much to see my slave and you saw it downstairs incessantly impaling itself.
You wanted more than anything for Bob to fuck you - " (It was the first
time he had heard the name of his attacker - the timing of the revelation
being Bob's) " - and he fucked you.  You wanted him to breed you with his
massive load and keep it inside you.  Even now it remains in you to take
home with you and I know how thankful you are for that right?"
	"Yes Sir," was the deceitful answer,
	"And now you want to go home, and you're going to be getting that
as well." Lots of gibberish emanated from around the ball in Jake's upper
fuck hole - all of it with a thankful tone.  "Let me ask you something just
out of curiosity.  You've told Bob here how important his pleasure and cock
are to you and how thankful you are for him fucking you - how grateful you
are, that you are leaving with his cum still inside you.  If I send you
back to Pennsylvania, would you want to maybe run into the city when Bob
needs your services?  He really likes your tight ass and the way you beg to
be fucked.  Maybe three or four nights a week you could come in and get
fucked.  Bob would bed you down with a plug up your ass, and the next
morning you could drink his load before leaving.  Is that something you
would enjoy?" Max was raping Jake's mind in earnest - as brutally as Bob
had raped his ass, and there just seemed to be no end.
	Jake was sober now.  There were no drugs and alcohol scrambling his
brain, and the preposterous words were falling on straight ears.  His
thoughts were, "Is this man crazy?  I'm going to drive three hours into New
York City and three hours back, to have myself torn apart and cum pumped up
my ass?  Once I get outa here, I'll split so fast they'll just see my
dust," But he knew there was only one answer Max wanted to hear, and as he
nodded he gave it around the rubber ball, "Yes Sir."
	"It might cut pretty heavily into your work load.  That ok?" Jake's
head continued nodding up and down, and mouth speaking his lie of
agreement.  Max turned into the darkness and spoke to Bob.  What do you
think Bob?  What conditions would you set for this fuckhole to enjoy your
cock?  He really wants it."
	Bob feigned thoughtfulness for a bit before speaking, "Tuesday,
Thursday and Saturday would be good.  It would mean traveling during rush
hour, but I'd enjoy seeing him naked around the house for the evening.  If
he left PA around three I'm sure he could get to me before seven O'clock.
He could bring his tools and work for me for a few hours to show his
appreciation." He paused for a moment, "Oh.  And no beating off or sex
outside servicing my cock.  But I'm sure that'll be no problem.  When I
asked him, he admitted to me my cock is the only sex he could need."
	Max looked back at his worn, and weary, and frazzled, victim, and
let him incriminate himself one more time.  "So what do you think fuckhole?
That sound good to you?  You want that cock inside you enough to rearrange
your life around it?  You willing to abide by Bob's conditions so you can
service his beautiful horse cock?" Max looked directly and deeply into
Jake's eyes and continued.  "Don't lie now.  Your answer is very important.
Think a moment before you agree - and then if that's what you really want,
nod your head and speak loudly to Bob.
	In a matter of split seconds Jake's head filled with thoughts about
needing to be out of here and about doing anything to be sure that happened
- his head shook up and down, and he literally hollered around his gag to
the man who now had a name.  "YES SIR!  THANK YOU SIR!  I'LL HONOR YOUR
CONDITIONS SO I CAN HAVE YOUR COCK SPLIT ME OPEN!  I'LL BE THERE TUESDAY,
THURSDAY, and SATURDAY and I'LL WORK FOR YOU TO PAY FOR THE PRIVEL - -"
	"Ok. Ok," Max said, "Quiet down.  I think you've made your point
there pal.  Its obvious you're in love with that gigantic pussy pounder of
Bob's, and that you would do whatever's necessary to have it split your all
but virgin cunt apart.  Did you think either of us would make you drive all
the way here 3 or 4 times a week?  We were just playing with you." There
was a look of relief on Jake's face that Max had been waiting for/ wanting
to see one last time before letting the axe fall.
	"Actually - " Max said, " - the conditions for you to honor for the
privilege of servicing Bob's cock were hypothetical, but you really would
do that wouldn't you?" Max was making it infinitely easy for their victim
to lie, and later he would pay severely for it.  The affirmative nod of the
head was the final confirmation of Jake's transgression as Max's lifted the
final shreds of veil from the truth of Jake's terrible predicament, "Ya
know pretty boy, I knew you were mine the minute I laid eyes on you in the
bar last evening.  What I didn't know at that time, was how stupid and
gullible you are, and how easy you would make it for me to obtain you."
	Listening to the horrifying words, Jake's look changed from one of
relief, to that of confusion and nervous fear, and progressed quickly to
one of terror.  The game was being revealed.  The cards were all being laid
on the table now, and there wasn't anything but shit in Jake's hand.  His
luck had run out and without the drugs or alcohol to lend that comfortable
haze, he could see clearly.  He started pleading with Max not to do this.
He said Max couldn't do this to him.  He hollered and ranted to no avail.
All the words remained trapped inside unable to be expressed.  Only noises
escaped from around the ball.
	"Go ahead.  Get it out of your system for a few minutes." Max said.
It's ok.  Don't worry.  You're behaving normally.  You're only doing what
anyone else would do in your place.  If you took a slave off the streets
like we talked about, he'd be doing the same thing for you.  How does it
feel to be the victim instead of the victor?"
	His wishes to be freed were pointless.  Max wouldn't take a chance
like letting him go now.  He knew that.  Jake stopped his pointless oral
noises and stood there looking down in a stupor as the reality sank in.  He
was seeing himself in the frightening light of reality.  He was loosing
everything - his freedom, his independence, his manhood, his possessions,
his relationships - even his rights and dignity were being taken from him.
He was appropriately bound here like beef on the hoof - ripe for the
slaughter.  The shock was stunning.  His face reddened as he listened not
to his friend, not his Commanding Officer or boss, but to his captor. "I
didn't bring you here to SEE a salve," Max revealed with finality, "I
brought you here to BE a slave.  You remember me telling you I had a friend
and you were just his type?  And do you remember me telling you I had a way
of augmenting my income.  Well, I sold you to Bob.  When I spied on you
undressing from behind that wall of mirrors, I called Bob knowing u were
just what he'd been looking for.  He came over to see if he wanted to
purchase you.  I had you clean out so he could take a test drive.  As it
turned out he bought you even before he drove you.  You are the merchandise
he came to pick up, and your slavery is the deal you helped me close.  I
knew he would buy you, and if he didn't, I'd have enjoyed you myself for a
while and sold you to some one else."
	Jake felt faint.  He didn't even know what kept him conscious and
able to hear the terrifying news as it unfolded. "Everything's been taken
care of.  I'm good at what I do and even if they look, you will never be
found.  Remember that people in the bar saw you standing and talking with a
short guy with hair and a mustache?  As you see that man doesn't exist.
Remember how you said nothing to anyone about me and how no one at the bar
knew you?  Remember how you left the bar alone to go and get your car and
how you picked me up while I was standing in the shadows, blocks away from
the bar?  Remember that you parked in my secure garage?"
	It was necessary for the naked hulk to be shown his hopelessness in
order to exact complete and unquestioning acceptance of his fate.  By the
time Max was through, Jake would understand his utter lack of options
without doubt.  Jake was seeing the truth of the picture being painted as
he listened, "I got a little pocket money for your car.  It was taken to my
friends at the chop shop who are always interested in a vehicle as nice as
yours was.
	Jake started making noises that had a singsong quality to them.  It
was a kind of whining.  There were lots of syllables.  You could tell he
was probably apologizing, making promises, and begging.  Max just let the
slave ramble on for a time, while he stepped back and sat in the dark with
Bob, his immense cock in his hand, and enjoying the show.  Bob asked Max -
loudly enough for Jake to hear - to change the position of, "the display" -
that he was ready to see it on its knees.  Bob's friend and accomplished
slave collector happily accommodated.  He released and re-cuffed the
extremities, now without feeling, behind Jake's back, and as the boy's legs
crumpled without any effort on Max's part, he "helped" him down to the
desired position.  There in the middle of the bright lights, "the display,"
having been told to continue, babbled on.  He cried tears of fear and
sincerity about whatever it was he was saying, as saliva ran freely from
around his gag.
	Max stepped back into the light again startling the jabbering
slave.  He held in his hand Jake's address book.  It was a cheap one but
its distinctive red and green color made it unmistakably identifiable to
its former owner.  Max held it in a way that only partially obscured it
from view as he interrupted the whinny blabbering.  "I want to thank you
for giving such good directions to your house fuckhole.  Remember - " Jake
didn't want to remember any more, " - how last night you wouldn't give me
the simple information I was asking you for, regarding the photos in your
wallet?  Well, I took the liberty of sending my men to your place to pick
up a few things."
	Max held the book out for Jake to see, and as he began thumbing
casually through it - stopping to read something now and again - the boy
began to tremble, "This - " Max informed, " - is like an insurance policy.
I always like to guarantee the cooperation of the merchandise I sell to my
clients.  Things like this book enable me to do that.  Because if you try
to run, or if you don't cooperate with Bob - no matter what he does to, or
requires of you, people in this book will suffer terrible consequences."
Now he understood his plight completely.  The sobbing mass of muscle was
ready now for breaking and was well on its way.
	"You wanted to go home?" Max continued, "Bob is going to be taking
you home very shortly - " "Home," the word had lost its meaning completely
to the once proud man, " - but first I want you to listen very carefully to
what I have to say.  You belong to this man now.  You are his property -
his slave.  He is your new owner - your Master.  You represent a sizable
investment to your owner, and like anyone else, he expects a lot of good
return on his investment.  Whether you live or die, and how you live, are
matters of concern only to him now.  He requires all your focus, all your
attention, all your effort, all your time, all your energy, all of your
dedication, all of your devotion and your unquestioning obedience as slave.
That's not a lot for a man like your owner to require of a worthless
fuckhole like yourself is it?"
	The defeated head shook from side to side as two syllables issued
from the drooling mouth.  In what seemed an instant, the beautiful
masculine creature in the middle of the bright lights was a different
being.  It had undergone a metamorphosis - from manhood, pride, and
hopefulness - to object-hood, humiliation, and defeat.  It would be broken
the rest of the way, and become a completely compliant, obedient,
instrument of suffering and service, for Bob's entertainment, convenience,
purposes, and pleasure.
	Max put his hand in the drenched armpit of the kneeling object and
helped it with upward pressure to stand to its shackled feet. The bright
lights went down and the room lights came up.  Max handed the fuck hole off
to Dieter as he wiped his hand through the sweat filled, dripping, hairy
pit, and put it to his nose, "Nothing like it," he said to the slave's new
owner, lingering over the intoxicating scent repeatedly inhaling - as Bob
had done the night before, Stay for a drink?" Max queried.
	"Sure!" Was Bob's immediate answer.
	"Get this loaded up for Bob," Max instructed his big assistant,
"He'll be taking it home shortly." Dieter took the slave by the same armpit
and led the stumbling hulk with its head bowed naturally in defeat and
subjection short stepping its chains through the door.  Max called to it
and made it turn around and look at him.  He held his red and green
"insurance policy" up for it to see and issued his final emphatic, poignant
words. "Remember - fuck hole!"
	The new slave would indeed remember the image of his captor holding
the book up victoriously for the rest of its unnatural, obedient, life - a
life of pain, and suffering - an instrument and an object of convenience,
service, and entertainment.
	"A thing of beauty is a joy forever," Bob said, as the men
adjourned.
	"Yeah," Max said, "Or for as long as u want to own it." The men
laughed in unison.
	As they relaxed over celebratory drinks and cigars, Max offered Bob
a footnote to the events, "Now remember I have a "previously owned program"
- no guarantees, but I can offer something a client is through with either
for sale or auction.  If it sells I take 20% commission.
	"What about age and condition?" Bob asked.
	"You never know what someone might be interested in - and when the
price is right for them, I've sold some pretty rough and advanced
merchandise for what ever purposes the buyers have had in mind.  I don't
ask, but some have volunteered, and the uses for what has sold have been
pretty varied and interesting to say the least - so just keep it in mind -
could be a way to dispose of what might no longer be of interest to you
without your having to go to any trouble."
	"Thanks for the offer my friend.  I will keep it in mind.  And I
may be up for an eventual addition to my collection - so far of one -
possibly something younger and less expensive.
	"We filled this prescription pretty well for you, Max bragged, "I'm
sure we could find you something appropriate again.  Just let me know when
you're ready, and what you want."
	Bob agreed wholeheartedly that Max's prescription fulfillment had
been nothing short of perfection with what he was taking home.  The
"satisfaction guaranteed," offer Max had issued, was a colossally
delightful understatement.


The Postscript (still to cum)  will complete "slaveMaster Tempter"
Comments welcome:
mackxwayne@hotmail.com
Other Nifty Story: A slaves Induction
The man behind the words - MY website  http://www.MACKsf.com