Date: Mon, 16 Mar 2009 09:37:24 -0400
From: James True <duncan_true@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Merchandise Part 14

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 14


Jim's training continued in earnest over the next couple of weeks. Paul
marveled at how fast Jim was taking to his new fate. He seemed a natural
slave. As the days went by, Paul found fewer and fewer reasons to
discipline him. So, on occasion, he would discipline him just to do it. And
Jim accepted the discipline, no matter what form it took. Everytime Paul
flogged him, he gave more lashes than before, and Jim was starting to be
able to handle it with a minimum of yells, though there were always tears
in his eyes.

Jim was also a natural sexual slave. The boy was quick to learn just what
acts gave his Master the most pleasure, and how to excel at them.


Jim was also doing very well as a domestic slave. He was spending more and
more time downstairs keeping the house clean and tidy, and cooking meals
for Paul. Jim was quite content with his life. He enjoyed being useful to
Paul. And during those weeks, Jim had worn no clothing, and sat on no
furniture. And he was happy, happier than he can ever remember being.


But of course, Jim did not know what Paul knew. It was two days before Paul
had to turn Jim over to Mr. Lee. Paul had spent the past couple of weeks
trying to think of any way to not let it happen. He tried going out to find
another boy he could train and give to Mr. Lee instead of Jim, but had no
luck. He thought of just taking Jim and running off somewhere. Jim didn't
have a passport available, so they were limited to just the United States
for places to go, and Paul knew that Mr. Lee had the resources and would
eventually track him down no matter where he went, and he would lose Jim
anyway. Paul had learned that Mr. Lee does not take betrayal lightly. Paul
had even gone to Mr. Lee, and told him that he needed more time to train
the boy, but Mr. Lee was adamant; the deadline was fixed, and the boy would
be taken and shipped out on schedule.


Paul realized there was no way to avoid the inevitable, and for the first
time in his life, he hated his job..


Paul decided he could not put off telling him any longer. Normally, he
would have told the boy over a week ago, allowing him a chance to get used
to the idea, but every time he tried to tell the boy, he just couldn't do
it.


It was after dinner, and Paul was sitting on the couch, waiting for Jim to
finish washing the dishes. When Jim entered the living room, Paul signaled
him to come sit at his feet. Jim did so, removing Paul's boots so he could
massage his feet.


"Boy, I have something to tell you that you may not like."


Jim paused his massaging and looked up at Paul. "What's that, Master?" Jim
was visibly nervous, not sure what to expect.


"There is no easy way to say this, no way to sugar-coat it, so I'll be
direct. For the past month, I have been training you, working you, pushing
you to become a good and valuable slave."


"Yes, Sir. I hope my progress has pleased you." Jim thought back to when he
first came here, how rebellious he was.


"Oh, yes, boy. I'm very pleased. But you know you are not the first boy
I've trained. I've trained dozens over the years."


Jim wasn't sure if that was a question or a comment, but Paul paused, and
Jim thought he was waiting for a response. "I kinda figured I wasn't the
first, Sir. I didn't think you built that setup upstairs just for me." Then
a thought occurred to Jim, a thought that horrified him. He allowed Paul's
feet to drop to the floor as he stopped massaging them. He had to risk
asking a question. "What happened to the others you trained, if I may ask,
Sir?"


"That's what I have to talk to you about. I train boys into slavery for
Mr. Lee. He pays me good money for the work I do finding and training
boys. When they are fully trained, I turn the boys over to Mr. Lee."


Jim gave a shudder, remembering how rough Mr. Lee was. Jim didn't want to
hear this. But Paul continued, "Mr. Lee is in the import/export
business. But his most profitable export are the boys we train for him. He
sells them to powerful interests in Asia and the Middle East."


Tears started to roll down Jim's cheeks as the full meaning of what Paul
was telling him meant. Jim started to stand up. "Please, Master..."


"No, boy. Sit, and don't interrupt. Yes, as you obviously have guessed by
now, you are also to be turned over to Mr. Lee. It is to happen the day
after tomorrow, in the morning. Tomorrow will be your last day here."


"No, Master, Please! I don't want to leave you."


"It's not up to you. What you want is immaterial. No one, especially
Mr. Lee, cares about what you want."


"No one? Not even you, Sir?"


"Well, I appreciate that you don't want to leave me." Tears started to form
in Paul's eyes. "But that doesn't matter. Mr. Lee doesn't care what you or
I want. You have been sold, and are scheduled to be shipped to your new
owner in two days. It is a done deal, and nothing can undo it."


Jim thought back to the few missed opportunities he had to escape,
opportunities he did not actively pursue because he was so happy with
Paul. But now he is going to lose Paul anyway. Jim stood up and started
running for the door. But he was still wearing his electrified collar, and
did not get far before he felt the charge zapping him, causing great
pain. He had to retreat and return to the living room.


"Running won't help, boy." Paul said. "And I'm afraid I will have to punish
you for doing that."


"NO! You can't do this to me. I stayed with you, I worked with you, I did
it because I was going to be YOUR slave. Please! I beg you. I LOVE you,
Master."


"I'm truly sorry, boy. But I have no choice. And the more rebellious you
are, the worse it's going to be for you." Paul grabbed Jim's arm and had to
drag him upstairs.


Paul made a mistake by not telling the boy earlier, and now Jim has to pay
for it. Paul strapped Jim to the St. Andrew's cross, and went to pick out a
flogger. Jim was still yelling, so Paul got a ball gag and put it in his
mouth. Paul didn't want to look at Jim's pleading eyes, so he also put a
blindfold on him. He then started to flog him. But Paul's heart wasn't in
it. He knew Jim did not deserve this. But Jim had to be broken. He kept on
flogging Jim. Twenty times. Thirty times. Then he stopped. Jim was sobbing
and bleeding. Paul realized even he was crying. This was so unfair.


Paul left Jim tied to the cross and went downstairs. He hated this job. He
hated Mr. Lee. He regretted that day 20 years ago when he first met Mr. Lee
in that leather bar. He was always so in control of his emotions in the
past, how did he let himself fall for this boy?


And what was worse, he no longer had his best friend Luke to talk to. Damn
that Mr. Lee. He felt like calling Mr. Lee right then and telling him the
deal is off, that he can't have the boy. But he knew that Mr. Lee would
simply come and take him. He could do nothing to prevent it. Mr. Lee could
be ruthless, as he saw when Luke failed him.


Paul sat in his living room for an hour in tears. Then he remembered he
left Jim tied to the cross. He had to go up and take him down. When he went
upstairs, he saw the marks he had left on Jim's back. He went to the
cabinet and got some ointment to rub on the back. Jim was still
trembling. "There, there, boy. Everything is going to be all right."


Jim tried to say something into the gag. Paul removed the gag and
blindfold. "How do you know that?" Jim asked. "Where are they going to send
me?"


"I don't know, boy. Mr. Lee never tells me that. He thinks it better I
never know what happens to the boys I train."


"Then how do you know everything is going to be all right? I might wind up
with someone even more sadistic than Mr. Lee!"


"Hush, boy. And remember your position." Paul freed Jim from the cross. "It
is true that I don't know where you are being sent, but there are very few
people as sadistic as Mr. Lee. And as sadistic as he is, I know that there
are some types of people even he won't associate with. Mr. Lee has always
assured me that the people he sells slaves to don't enjoy abusing slaves."


"I hate you!" Jim said.


That remark cut into Paul. "Boy, I'm going to lock you into your cage
now. Try to sleep. We'll talk tomorrow." Paul locked Jim in the cage and
went downstairs and started to cry again. Paul did not like the look of
hatred in Jim's eyes, but maybe it was good that the boy hated him. Maybe
he would be more willing to go.


Jim also cried. He had never felt so scared and so hopeless before. There
clearly was no way out of this. He couldn't escape now. He realized that
all this time with Paul, he was role-playing. He had fallen in love with
Paul. Until just a few hours ago, he believed deep down he could have left
Paul's house whenever he wanted (with difficulty, but still possible), but
he didn't because he didn't want to leave Paul. But this wasn't
role-playing. He really was a slave now. There was no way to escape. He
really had literally no control over anything in his life. He wouldn't even
be able to shit without getting permission from some evil Master.


Both Paul and Jim had fitful sleeps that night. Neither felt better in the
morning. Paul brought Jim the usual piss-soaked cereal for
breakfast. Neither one said a word as Paul placed it in the cell. Jim
refused to eat it. Paul decided he had to be tough. "Boy, you better eat
that. You won't be getting any more food as long as that cereal remains."


Jim realized he really was hungry. A night of crying will do that. Slowly,
reluctantly, Jim decided to eat the cereal. He thought of being defiant and
picking up the bowl, but decided that would not accomplish anything except
maybe more punishment.


"Look, boy, if it will make you feel better, I called Mr. Lee this morning
and talked to him. He told me that you have been sold to an Indian prince,
who has bought you to be a companion to his son. Mr. Lee assures me that
you will be living in a beautiful mansion, and as the son's companion, will
even have slaves on hand to serve you. It sounds quite nice. You just have
to remember to behave and show respect to your new owners, and you will be
living very luxuriously. Certainly more so than you ever would live here
with me."


Jim just glared at Paul. "Boy, I don't want to have to punish you again for
insolence."


"Yes, Sir," Jim said. "Whatever you think best, Sir."


Paul unlocked the cage and told Jim to go relieve himself on the toilet and
wash himself up. When Jim had done that, Paul locked him up again, and went
downstairs.


Jim remained in the cage the entire day, Paul only came upstairs to give
him food, and to allow him to use the toilet. Hardly a word was spoken
between them.


That evening, Paul's doorbell rang. It was Mr. Lee and the two men Paul had
seen earlier when Luke was taken. "Hello, Paul." Mr. Lee said. "I hope you
don't mind, but considering how you feel, I thought it best to come and get
the boy tonight." Turning to the two men he said, "Go get him, he's up in
the top floor."


The two men went up the stairs. "I'm really disappointed in you, Paul. You
usually show much more sense than what you showed with this boy. What
happened?"


"I don't know. All I know is that I can't do this for you anymore. I'm
quitting. This is the last boy I will obtain for you."


"I'm truly sorry to hear that, Paul. But I'll respect your wishes. After
tonight, you won't hear from me ever again. I will, of course, send you a
check for this boy. I'm sorry it has to end this way."


Upstairs, Jim saw the two strangers approach his cell, and realized this
was it. There was no escape. During the course of the day, he had slowly
resigned himself to his fate. He hated Paul, and would be glad never to see
him again. But over the past month, his cell had become his little corner
of security. He didn't want to leave it. Paul had assured him that he was
being sent to a nice situation. But in India, for God's sake! He certainly
did not want to go to India. Oh, why didn't he try to escape when he could?


The two men had keys to unlock the cell. Jim's heart was beating rapidly,
and he felt the urge to run. But the men were ready. One had a tazer out,
and zapped him, and he dropped to his knees. Before he knew it, he was
gagged, and shackled wrists and ankles.


The two men carried the boy down stairs. Jim tried to shout out to Paul one
last time to please not do this, but the gag in his mouth prevented him
from making any intelligible sound. But Paul saw a look of pure hatred in
the boy's eyes, and that wounded him. But he thought that maybe it was for
the best. If the boy hated him, then maybe he would be more willing to
accept his new masters.


The two men lifted the boy up and placed him in a large canvas sack, which
they then carried out to the van outside. Paul knew he would never see the
boy again.


Paul was in tears as he ordered Mr. Lee to leave his house and never
return.


The Merchandise - Epilogue

Three days had passed since Mr. Lee came and took Jim. Three days during
which Paul barely had the energy to get out of bed. Paul had lived alone in
this house for many years, but this was the first time he could remember
feeling alone, and feeling that the house was empty. Always in the past,
when Mr. Lee came and took the boys he trained, Paul felt relieved to have
his house back. This time was different.


On that third day, there was a delivery made to Paul's house. The two men
who took Jim away came to deliver a large crate. They took it upstairs to
the living room for Paul. Paul was puzzled, and had no idea what Mr. Lee
was sending him.


"The boss told us to give you this," one of the men said, handing Paul an
envelope, "and said to tell you to read this before opening the crate."
Their job done, the men left.


Paul opened the envelope and read the letter inside.


"Dear Paul,


"I know you think I'm the biggest bastard in the world right now, and maybe
I am. I'm truly sorry I had to take the boy away. I know there is nothing I
could ever do to make up for that.


"It may surprise you to know that slightly over 20 years ago, another
trainer made the mistake of falling in love with a slave. Like the boy we
took from you, that slave was a young boy who had just come to New York,
and was as naïve as any country hick could be. Like you, that trainer was
extremely skilled at enslaving boys. Once he chose a boy for enslavement,
that boy's fate was sealed.


In this case, the chosen slave had been bought by a fat Saudi prince who,
it turns out, was quite cruel. He liked to break bones for no reason and
perform other disfiguring acts on his slaves. The trainer didn't know that
at the time, and I don't think even Mike (you remember Mike...he owned the
business before I took it over) Not even Mike knew how cruel the guy
was. Fortunately for the boy, the trainer fell in love with him, and he
took it upon himself to stop the enslavement process, and allowed the boy
to remain free. That boy never knew how lucky he was to be spared the
cruelties of the Saudi prince.


"That trainer, however, paid a heavy price for freeing the boy. Mike
whipped the trainer without mercy, and kept him locked up in a cramped cage
for weeks. Mike told the trainer that he was lucky the Saudi prince only
wanted Caucasian boys, or else he would have been shipped to Arabia in the
boy's place.


"That trainer, as you may have guessed by now, was me, so believe me, I
know what you are going through right now. You see, I was not always the
bastard I am now. And when I eventually took over the business from Mike, I
remembered the fate I had almost consigned the boy to, I made a vow to
never sell a boy to a cruel Master. That is why I check out each client
carefully. I can assure you that as long as they behave, every boy I sell
is well-treated and never tortured for no reason."


Paul thought back to the day he visited Mr. Lee in his office, and the boy
he kept under his desk that he used as an ashtray, or the thrashing he gave
Jim when he "tested" him, and wondered just what Mr. Lee considered torture
and what he didn't consider torture.


The letter continued, "I was truly moved by your interest in the boy, and I
wish we did not have to take him from you. But his buyer's paid good money,
and are good clients. I had no choice but to take him. Business is
business. As you read this, the boy is on its way to its new owner and its
new life. Please be assured that its new owner is kind, and I'm confident
that the boy will grow to love its new life.


"Please accept this gift as a token of my appreciation for all you have
done for me in the past. I'm sorry we had to end this way.


"Samuel Lee


"P.S. It may interest you to know that the slave I released 20 years ago,
the slave I fell in love with, the slave that was destined to be sent to a
cruel and sadistic master, the slave who would most likely be dead by now,
or so badly crippled that he would wish he were dead, was you."


Paul put down the letter. He never knew that Mr. Lee had intended him for
slavery when they first met. A sudden shudder went down his spine. This is
also the first he learned that Mr. Lee had actually fallen in love with
him. He never knew Mr. Lee was even capable of love.


Just then, Paul remembered the crate. His heart jumped as he began to
realize what might be in the box. He ran to the basement to get a crowbar
to open the crate. He quickly pried off the lid. Inside was a large canvas
bag. Quickly opening the bag he saw a naked boy shackled with wrist and
ankle restraints, and with a hood over his head, and sound dampening
headphones over his ears, making him totally oblivious to his
surroundings. He lifted the boy out and removed headphones and the
hood. YES! Under the hood was his boy Jim, blindfolded and gagged.


He quickly removed the blindfold, but kept the gag in place. As the boy's
eyes adjusted to the light, he recognized his surroundings and his heart
jumped. He was sure he was on his way to India. He never expected to see
this Paul or his apartment again. If he didn't have a gag in his mouth, he
would have a wide smile on his face.


Just then, Paul's phone rang. Paul knew before even looking at the caller
ID that it was Mr. Lee.


"I assume the package arrived undamaged, Paul."


"Yes, it has, Sir. But I don't understand. What happened?"


"Well, we managed to get the boy into one of the cages in the warehouse,
but he was obviously unhappy. Of course, most of the slaves are unhappy at
that point. We were preparing him for shipment, and my boy, you know, the
one who was my receptionist when you last visited, was talking to
him. Without my knowledge or permission, I might add. He later came to me,
and believe it or not, volunteered to be sent to India in the boy's
place. You see, my boy had seen a picture of the young man who was to be
the boy's owner. In fact, I think he was quite enamored of the picture. He
kept a copy of it on his desk here at the office. He practically begged me
to send him to India in the place of your boy. As I said, these clients are
very important to me, and it occurred to me that a slave that wanted to be
sent to them made more sense than one who might be rebellious. So now, it
appears you owe me a new office slave."


"And this boy?" Paul asked, looking at the still shackled Jim.


"It's my gift to you, my peace offering, in the hopes I can convince you to
come back to work for me."


"I get to keep him?"


"He's yours for as long as you want him, Paul, though I think he'll be more
trouble to you than he's worth."


"I don't know what to say."


"Don't make the mistake of thinking I did this for you, Paul. It just makes
good business sense to send a willing slave instead of a rebellious
slave. If my other boy did not volunteer or was in any way not a suitable
substitute, your boy would be on his way to India right now. And it also is
good business to keep you in my employ, and if I have to bribe you with a
gift, I will. Say you will return to work."


"I don't know, sir. It wasn't just your taking of the boy that upset me, it
was also your treatment of Luke. He was your friend, for Christ's sake. He
trusted you."


"I know. And believe it or not, it pained me greatly to have done what I
did. But I had no choice. I had to deliver a product."


"But he was a friend."


"So? Do you think none of the boys you have ever trained for me had
friends? That they didn't have families that cared for them? Yet you never
showed any qualms about training them and turning them over to me to send
half-way around the world to be slaves. This is a dirty business, Paul. And
your hands are just as dirty as mine. No point in suddenly getting all
righteous simply because a friend of ours had to be sold. Every boy we have
sold has been a friend to someone."


Paul didn't have a response to that. Mr. Lee was right. In all the years he
had been training boys, he never once really considered the lives he
disrupted and ruined. He never looked at the boys as people. He couldn't
even remember any of their names, or what most of them even looked
like. And he never really cared what happened to them when they left. They
were all just merchandise to be processed and sold.


Until Jim. And until Luke was taken from him.


"I'm sorry, sir. I know you want me back, but I don't think I can."


"So, what are you going to do? It's not as if you have many marketable
skills, and you can't exactly put 'slave trainer' on a resume."


"I don't know, sir. But I'll think of something."


"Well, I tried. I'm really sorry to lose you. Especially as you owe me a
new office slave."


"I guess in a way I do." Paul's mind was busy thinking how he would go
about finding an actual job out in the working world. After 20 years out of
the workplace, he really had no skills that were in high demand. But could
he continue to work for Mr. Lee? Paul knew there were many young men who
actually want to be enslaved. It is their fantasy. Maybe if he could limit
himself to training those men, his conscience would be clear. "I guess I
can obtain one last boy for you."


"Wonderful! I knew I could count on you, Paul. And, Paul, don't worry about
Luke. I've been in contact with the emir, and he tells me Luke is settling
in quite nicely where he is now, and he is being treated very well. The
Emir's wife really likes him. And I plan on keeping tabs on him to ensure
he continues to be treated well. Now spend the day enjoying your new
toy. Tomorrow you can start your search for my new office slave. A young
red-headed boy of about 18 to 20 years old this time, I think."


"Yes, Sir. I will. In fact, I think I know just where to find one. There is
a kid, a student at NYU I think, who has been cruising me at a coffee shop
in the Village. He has red hair. I think he'd be perfect." Paul hung up the
phone. Why did he agree to find another boy for Mr. Lee? Paul realized that
deep down, he loved the hunt, he loved the training, he loved the
roughness. It was his life. For better or for worse, he was a slave
trainer.  And he was just as much a slave to that as Jim was to him.


Jim. Paul turned and just stared at Jim. He went over and removed the gag.
Jim was bursting with curiosity as to how and why he was reunited with
Paul, and if this was for good. He opened his mouth to start asking
questions, but Paul gave a look that warned the boy not to say a word.


Going back to the box, Paul looked for and found the key to the shackles,
which he removed. He then stood back and looked at the boy, and motioned
him to stand up. He also had him slowly turn around. The marks on his back
from the whipping earlier were healing well.


Paul went to the couch and sat down, still staring at the boy standing
before him. Finally, he simply said, "Boy, my feet are tired."


With that, Jim bounded across the room, sat down by Paul's feet, removed
his sneakers and started to massage his feet, taking his time to enjoy the
smell. There were big smiles on both their faces.

The End (for now)


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.

I have already started writing a sequel to this story, as Paul takes up the
challenge of finding a red-head for Mr. Lee. It is not yet ready for
uploading, but if you want to be informed when the first chapter is
uploaded, please let me know.