Date: Mon, 23 Feb 2009 08:56:31 -0500
From: James True <duncan_true@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Merchandise Part 11

This story is copyright 2009 by James True. The following is a work of
fiction, and it involves sexual situations between men. The author
appreciates any and all feedback about the story and the events depicted,
as well as the general subject matter of sexual slavery.  I hope you enjoy
the story.


The Merchandise Chapter 11


The next morning's routine was the same. Paul brought up to Jim's cell a
bowl of dry cereal, pissed in it, and then placed it on the floor of Jim's
cell for him to lap up with his mouth. Then he allowed Jim out to wash up,
and brought Jim down to cook his breakfast, which he ate with Jim sitting
naked on the floor beside him. Jim then washed the dishes alone, and went
to the living room and sat at Paul's feet.


"Get up and show me your ass, boy." Jim did. "Good. Looks like it will heal
nicely. Does it still hurt, boy?"


"A little, Sir. But I can bear it now."


"Very good, boy. Now, I have to go out again this morning. I want you to
give the bathrooms a thorough scrubbing. When you are done, you are to go
back upstairs and get some exercise in. Understood, boy?"


"Yes, Sir."


"And remember, you do not have my permission to cum. Understand?"


"Yes, Sir."


"Good. Now the current to your collar will be turned on when I leave, so
don't attempt to go down to the front door. I'd like to think I can trust
you not to attempt to leave, but I'm not ready to test that trust yet. Now,
go start your work, boy."


So, Jim started his chores, and Paul left to go to Mr. Lee's office.


Samuel Lee ran an import/export business from a warehouse in Brooklyn, and
Paul headed there by subway. He thought back to how he first met
Mr. Lee. It was about 20 years ago (so long ago, Paul realized, that Jim
wasn't even born yet), and Paul was 21, and was just out of college. He had
landed an entry-level job in a brokerage firm in New York City, and had
just moved to the city from his home down south, finding a studio apartment
on the fourth floor of an old building on Jane Street in Greenwich
Village. After his first week of work, on the Friday night, Paul decided to
find a gay bar and celebrate. He didn't have any friends in the city yet,
and was lonely, but this was the so-called greatest city in the world, and
he was determined to live it up.


He headed to Christopher Street, the famous gay mecca of the city, and
since he didn't know any of the bars at all, chose one at random and walked
in. It was dark inside, and had a musty smell. As his eyes got used to the
light, he noticed most of the patrons were big men, most of them wearing
leather. Paul wasn't into the leather scene, and was really out of place
here as he was wearing a preppy look of polo shirt and slacks, and so he
decided to go elsewhere. As he turned around to leave, he literally bumped
into a large Chinese man a few years older than he, causing him to spill
his beer. "Watch where you're going, boy," the Chinese man said. The
Chinese man was wearing leather chaps over tight blue jeans, and an open
leather vest and no shirt.


"Oh, sorry, sir," Paul said. The "sir" came out unconsciously, as Paul was
raised by real southern parents in the Bible belt, who taught him to use
"sir" and "ma'am" when addressing older people or strangers. But Paul
thought, "if anyone deserves to be called 'sir', this guy is it," as he
admired his large chest and firm pecs. "I spilled your beer. Let me buy you
a new one."


"Yeah, sure, boy." the Chinese man said, and he grabbed Paul by the arm and
led him to the bar, where he ordered a new beer, "and one for the boy
here."


"Oh, no, thank you. I was just leaving. I have to go."


"Nonsense," the Chinese man said. "You just got here. I insist you have a
beer, boy."


Paul didn't know what to do. He wasn't into leather, nor into
Orientals. And he couldn't imagine this big leather guy was interested in
him. But he gripped his arm tightly, so he simply said, "well, all
right. One beer."


The Chinese man let go of his arm, then held out his hand. "Name's Sam. Sam
Lee."


Paul took Sam's hand and shook it. "Paul."


"Pleased to meet you, Paul." Paul paid for the two beers, and handed one to
Sam. Sam then took Paul by the arm and led him to a table where two other
leather-clad men were seated. "Gang, this is Paul. Paul, these are my
friends, Mike and Luke." Sam rather forcibly pushed Paul down onto an empty
chair. Mike was a big bear of a man, about 40, White, and very hairy. Luke
was a large Black man; although only about 19 years old, he looked quite
formidable, not someone you would want to meet in a dark alley. Both were
wearing various leather clothes.


"Pleased to meet y'all," said Paul.


"Oh, a real Southern belle!" Mike said. "What brings you to New York and
this bar?"


"I just moved here. Got a new job down on Wall Street, and decided to go
out and celebrate tonight. I actually walked into this bar by accident."


"Well, now that you're here and found this place, I hope you stick
around. We like new faces here." Mike said.


Paul felt hemmed in and trapped by the three large men. They seemed
friendly enough, but he wanted to quickly finish his beer and leave. He
didn't understand what these guys wanted with him. The four of them talked
about nothing much, and Paul finished his beer and was about to stand up
and excuse himself when Sam signaled the bartender and ordered a new
round. Paul tried to excuse himself, but Sam insisted he stay and be
social.


The talk soon moved to sexual topics. Luke asked Paul what he likes in sex,
and Paul admitted that his sex tastes were very vanilla, that he liked the
preppy type like himself. Sam told Paul he ought to expand his horizons a
little. Paul simply said maybe someday. Talk like this embarrassed Paul.


After he finished his second beer, Paul said he had to go to the bathroom,
and excused himself from the table. Sam, Mike, and Luke remained at the
table and continued to talk. Mike chided Sam, "Doesn't look like you are
making progress. Looks like we win the bet."


Sam responded, "The evening's not over yet. That kid is still here. Don't
worry, I'll bag him yet." Earlier, Sam was bragging to Mike and Luke how he
could rape any guy in the Village and make him love it. When they saw Paul
walk into the bar, he looked so out of place and the type least likely to
enjoy a rough fuck from Sam that they quickly made a bet Sam couldn't do
it. Sam's first move was to attract the kid's attention, which he did by
purposely walking up right behind him so that when the kid turned around,
he would bump right into him. The maneuver went off without a hitch, and as
far as Sam was concerned, Paul was now his.


In the bathroom, Paul decided to try to sneak out of the bar to get away
from the three leathermen. He was getting a little scared of them. There
was only one way in and out of the bathroom, so he would have to go back to
the bar, and hope he can quietly slip out before the three notice. But as
soon as he left the bathroom, there was Sam, right in front of him. Sam
once again took Paul by the arm and led him to the table. While doing so,
He expertly managed to pick Paul's pocket, taking his wallet. Once at the
table, Paul asserted himself, "It's been great meeting you guys, but I
really have to run. I do hope to see you again," he lied.


"Well, you can usually find us here on a Friday or Saturday night. Don't be
a stranger, boy," Mike said, giving Paul's ass a firm pat, then a
squeeze. Moving away, Paul left the bar, finally feeling free. Once on the
sidewalk outside, he breathed a sigh of relief. He had to admit that he
found it exciting to be the focus of attention of the three big, muscular
men, but he was also intimidated by them. He had always been the most
vanilla of guys when it came to sex. He was pondering whether to try
another bar, but decided he felt tired. He decided he would scout around
during the day tomorrow, and get a better feel of the various types of bars
and find one more to his liking while the sun was still out. So Paul headed
back to his one-room apartment, got undressed down to his briefs, and went
to bed.


Back at the bar, Mike and Luke were claiming Sam failed and owed them money
on their bet. But Sam told them he isn't through yet. The night was still
young and Sam now has the kid's wallet. He will either be back for it
tonight once he discovers it missing, or else Sam, who now knows where the
kid lives, will visit him later in the night and "consummate the deal".


An hour later, Sam decided Paul was not coming back. Either Paul was very
scared of them, or he hadn't yet realized his wallet was missing. Most
likely the latter. Sam had a sense that as nervous as Paul seemed, he was
also somewhat turned on by the attention. Sam opened Paul's wallet and
found his address. Excusing himself, he left the bar alone and headed up to
Jane Street. The front door to Paul's building was locked, and while he
could ring Paul's buzzer, he didn't want to alert Paul that he was
downstairs. Sam walked down the street, sat on the stoop of a nearby
building, and waited. He had no idea how long he would have to wait,
though. It just may be that no one was going to enter Paul's building the
rest of the night.


Eventually, Sam did see a young woman approach Paul's building. Seeing her
take her keys out of her bag, Sam approached. He timed his approach so he
wasn't too close when the woman went to unlock the door. No need to spook
her, he figured. The woman entered the building, and Sam rushed up and
caught the door before it could swing all the way shut. He then waited
until the woman was up the stairs and securely in her own
apartment. According to the wallet ID, Paul lived in Apt. 4F, so Sam
started the long climb to the fourth floor, as these old buildings did not
have elevators.


Reaching the door to Apt. 4F, Sam gave a rap on the door. He heard
something stirring within, and so knocked again, only louder. Then he heard
a sleepy and muffled, "Who's there?"


"It's Sam Lee, from the bar. I found your wallet. You must have left it
accidentally."


Paul, who had been awakened from a sound sleep, was a little hazy and not
thinking clearly. As a result, he did something no New Yorker would ever
do...he went to open his door. All he did was open it an inch to peer out,
and Sam pushed it open and marched right in, almost knocking Paul down. He
saw Paul standing there in his underwear, and closed the door behind him.


"Oh, sorry to disturb your sleep. Didn't realize you'd be in bed so
soon. Anyway, I found your wallet and figured you'd want it as soon as
possible."


"Um, yeah, thanks," was all that Paul could get out. Sam handed him the
wallet, and he gave a cursory look through it, deciding everything was
there, and tossed it onto the bureau. Then he realized he was standing
there in his underwear with a virtual stranger in his room. This was
definitely a situation his proper Southern parents did not prepare him for.


Sam knew this would be the only time he could make good on his bet. So, he
plunged right in. "Hey, nice bod you got there, boy. I take it you like to
work out." Sam went and placed his hands on Paul's biceps. "Very nice."


Paul instinctively flexed his arms to show off. "Thanks, sir. I worked out
fairly regularly in college. I haven't joined a gym here in the city yet,
though."


"Well, you should. Don't want to lose those muscles." Sam then took Paul by
the shoulders and turned him around. "Nice back. V-shaped. Very nice."


Paul was feeling a bit uncomfortable. He was always kind of a showoff at
the gym back home when horny college guys grabbed glances at his body, and
he always lingered longer in the showers than necessary. But here, in the
privacy of his room, with just Sam, he felt uncomfortable. It felt as if
Sam were sizing him up like a side of beef. But Sam just continued. "Nice
pecs, too," he said as he gave them a feel, lingering a bit long on the
nipples. "And quite a six-pack you've got." Sam moved his hands down to the
abs. Decidedly nervous, Paul tried to back away, but fell right onto the
bed behind him.


Sam ignored Paul's obvious discomfort. "I can get you into my gym, you
know. You'd like it there. All sorts of pretty boys go there."


"Uh, sure, that'd be nice," Paul said as Sam sat down on the bed next to
him.


"Real men, too, like me." Sam flexed his own arms. "Go on...feel that
muscle, boy." Paul timidly reached up and tried to place his hand around
the thick bicep. "Hard as a rock, it is."


"Um, yes, it is."


Sam took a hold of Paul's hand and placed it on his own pecs. "And feel
that," he said as he started to flex them. Sam then reached for the back of
Paul's head, and brought it to his his chest. "Go ahead, boy. Taste those
nipples."


Paul started to suck on Sam's nipples as Sam slowly slipped out of his
vest. "That's the way, boy." Sam raised his arm, and slowly pushed Sam's
mouth up to his hairy and sweaty armpit. "Go ahead boy, breathe in the
smell of a real man. Not those sissy boys you are used to. Smell a real
man."


Paul inhaled deeply. The musky aroma was a real aphrodisiac to him. His
cock started growing within his briefs. Paul stuck out his tongue to lick
the sweat from the pits. This was all so new to him. He couldn't believe he
was doing this. "Ah, that's it, boy. Get to know the smell of your new
master."


Sam moved his hand down to feel Paul's crotch. "Yes, I can see you like
serving real men. Go ahead, boy, suck on my nipples some more." Paul went
back to sucking on Sam's nipples, while Sam reached over and started
pinching Paul's nipples. Paul's cock jumped some more. Sam gently pushed
Paul down on the bed, and planted a deep kiss on his mouth, pushing his
tongue deep. Paul kissed back, placing his arms around Sam's neck and
shoulders. Sam reached down and started to push Paul's briefs off.


Sam then stood up, and took off his chaps, jeans, and boots, and stood
naked before Paul. He then moved his body down so as to lay on top of Paul
as he kissed him again. Paul slowly rubbed his hands over Sam's body. Sam
slowly crawled up until his thick cock was over Paul's mouth, and slowly he
started to stick it in. Paul's lips and tongue caressed the tool. "That's
the way, boy." Sam started to slowly push his cock in and out. "Taste your
master's meat."


Sam reached behind him, and moved his hands along Paul's abs. Slowly, he
pressed down on Paul's stomach as he moved so he was sitting on Paul's
chest. With Sam's weight on his chest, and Sam's hand pressing down on his
stomach, Paul started to find it hard to inhale. Sam lifted up a little
bit, "Take a deep breath, boy." Paul did, and then Sam sat down again, this
time placing his hand over Paul's nose and mouth. Paul could not breath,
and Sam started to stroke his cock. Paul started to panic a little. "Stay
calm, boy. You'll be all right." But Paul could not stay calm. He started
to struggle. Finally, Sam released Paul's nose and mouth, and Paul gasped
in a some air. "Good boy," was all Sam said.


Before Paul could fully catch his breath and protest, Sam reached down and
grabbed his ball sac and started squeezing. Paul let out a yelp of pain,
and reached up to try to push Sam off. But Sam took his free hand and once
again covered Paul's nose and mouth so he could not breathe. "Relax, boy,"
Sam commanded. "Let the adrenaline rush from the pain elevate you. I know
what you enjoy, boy."


After 30 seconds, Sam released Paul's nose and mouth, allowing him to
breathe. He let out a number of gasps. But Sam continued putting pressure
on Paul's balls. Paul was helpless and started to scream.. So Sam released
his grip on his balls and got up. He took Paul's underwear and balled it up
and shoved it into his mouth, gagging him. "Turn over boy," he commanded.


Paul just laid there and tried to yell "No!", but the underwear prevented
anything more than a muffled sound. Sam grabbed him and turned him over,
exposing his ass. Without warning, Sam then shoved his stiff cock up the
lily-white ass, and started pounding. "Bet you never had a real man inside
you before, right boy? Feels good, doesn't it boy?" Paul was helpless as
Sam pounded and pounded. Paul felt his ass was being torn to
shreds. Eventually Sam came, spurting a nice stream of cum up Paul's
ass. Sam then collapsed, lying on top of Paul.


Sam kept his softening cock in Paul's ass. Soon, Paul started to feel a
pressure inside him. At first he didn't understand, but then suddenly it
dawned on him that Sam was peeing up his ass. When Sam finally got up and
removed his cock, he took Paul's shirt from the chair where Paul threw it
before going to bed, and used it to wipe off his cock, and then started to
get dressed. Paul just laid on his bed, exhausted and panting. "Thank you
for the use of your ass, boy. I enjoyed it." Sam gave Paul's ass a really
hard slap. "You know where to find me and my friends if you ever want more,
which of course you will." With that, Sam opened the door and walked
out. Paul, feeling the excruciating pressure of the piss in his ass, got up
and ran to the bathroom pulling his underwear out of his mouth, and getting
to the toilet just in time to release the golden liquid inside him.


Paul just sat on the toilet for a few minutes. He had never experienced
such sex before, but he had to admit he found it quite a turn on. As he sat
there thinking about it, he started jerking off his cock, finally releasing
his own cum onto the floor.


And that was how Paul met Mr. Sam Lee, and how he was introduced to the
joys of rough sex. The rough sex stirred something in Paul. He wanted to
experience more, not necessarily as the sub, but as the dom. Paul sought
out Sam and his friends the next night. That is when Paul learned about the
bet, and his return to the bar confirmed that Sam won the bet. At first,
Paul was disappointed to learn that the only reason Sam was interested in
him was to win a bet, but Sam assured him that while the bet was the reason
Sam first approached him, he really enjoyed the encounter, and that he
hoped Paul would become a regular sex partner.


Paul and Sam (who Paul called Mr. Lee, out of deference to his dominant
personality) formed a kind of relationship, with Sam as Paul's mentor in
the art of leather sex. The relationship did not develop into a true
dom/sub relationship, although Mr. Lee certainly tried to dominate
him. Paul was not a true submissive, although he did not at all mind being
the submissive to Mr. Lee on occasion. While deciding they would not be
good sexual partners on a regular basis, Paul and Mr. Lee did become good
friends and eventual business associates. In those early years, though,
Paul kept his dead-end job at the brokerage firm, and did not fully
understand exactly what Mr. Lee did for a living. He knew that Mike ran an
import/export business and Mr. Lee worked for him, but beyond that, he knew
little about the business, and neither Mr. Lee nor Mike talked much about
it.


There was a period of about five years when Mr. Lee's business dealings
required him to move to Hong Kong, and Paul went with him. It was there
that Paul learned to speak Chinese, and it was also there that Paul first
got an inkling of just what Mike's main export product was. On their return
to New York, Mr. Lee bought the import/export business from Mike, and hired
Paul as his merchandise finder.. Since that time, Paul has made a good
living finding boys for Mr. Lee to sell to his ever-growing list of
clients. Paul also became great friends with the younger Luke, who also
worked for Mr. Lee. Paul and Luke often hung out together as friends and
occasional sex partners. Mike was never close to Paul and Luke; and he
retired after selling the business to Mr. Lee, and eventually moved to
Arizona, where he died a few years later.

To be continued.

In the next chapter, Paul arrives at Mr. Lee's office and learns a
terrifying lesson.

Comments on this story are greatly appreciated.  I thank all who have sent
me comments on past chapters, and I hope you all enjoy this one.

I'm also interested in communicating with those who wish to share with me
their experiences as a slave.