Date: Mon, 15 Dec 2014 02:01:22 -0700 From: joey asdf <joeyblow91@hotmail.com> Subject: The Young Butler (pt 1) - Gay/Authoritarian The Young Butler: Chapter 1 Feedback: joeyblow91@hotmail.com Disclaimer: This story contains sexual encounters between a teenage boy and a man in his twenties. Do not proceed unless you are OK with this! Please don't use my story without my permission. ------------------------------------------------------- Like most college graduates these days, I was having a hard time finding work. It seemed nearly impossible to find a job anywhere that paid decently unless you knew the right people. "It's easy to find a job, you just aren't trying hard enough," my friend Ron always said, as he sat in a cubicle browsing the internet for $75,000 salary at his Dad's company. Tonight was like most nights. I sat on my computer with a bottle of water resting on my desk. I didn't even want to think about how much money I owed for student loans but it was hard not to when I was barely able to pay rent month to month with my parents' help. My eyes scanned the monitor for something interesting but to no avail. I was about to give up for the night when I thought back to what my sister had told me. "Have you tried looking at Craigslist?" Thinking it was a silly idea, I had discounted it for a couple of weeks. What reputable company would be posting their ads on Craigslist but not the other well-known job-finding websites? But I decided to give it a shot anyways. I typed the address in and scanned the page. I found the jobs section and selected "full time". It was mostly "how to get rich working from home" scams. I didn't find anything that would pay enough but just before giving up, I refreshed one final time. "In search of live-in Butler. High pay." the new ad said. It was posted just seconds ago, I thought to myself. I clicked on it, thinking it was interesting. ----------------- ----------------- ----------------- ----------------- ----------------- You have a rare opportunity to become a Butler for the Greenshelm Household. Our previous butler has decided to pursue other careers. Your duties will include cooking, cleaning, other household chores, and watching over my son. It is just the two of us here. This is a live-in job. You will eat and sleep here with us. If you show promise, we may hire more Butlers of which you will be the boss of to alleviate some of your duties. I will pay you $750 per day. ----------------- ----------------- ----------------- ----------------- ----------------- "Seven-hundred and fifty dollars?" I said out loud. There was no way this was legit. I already cook and clean for myself. How much harder could it be to add in two more people? I quickly sent and e-mail and explained my situation. I was sure they were looking for someone with experience, but what harm could it do to try? I rolled into bed and dreamt of the possibility of being selected for the job. Nearly $300,000 a year without paying rent, food, utilities? A dream come true for me. My student loans would be paid off in no time. Morning came around and I was awoken by my cell phone ringing. "Hello?" I said groggily. "Yes, is this Dylan Slade?" a raspy voice responded. "Yeah, it's me. Who is this?" "You responded to an ad I placed. Will you come in today for an interview?" I instantly woke up. "Yes," I said excitedly. "Yes, I can. Any time is fine, sir." He gave me the address. "Be here at twelve o' clock sharp." "Yes, sir. I will," I said. I put the address in my phone. It was an hour away. I looked at the time. Ten-thirty! Shit. I scrambled out of bed and ran to the shower. It was the shortest shower of my life. Thankfully, I only had a handful of nice clothes to wear so it was easy to pick what to use for the interview. Hopefully he didn't expect me to be in a super fancy Tux or anything. I had just over an hour to drive to the house. I ran a couple of questionable lights that were just turning red, but thankfully I didn't get pulled over. On the drive over, I thought of how incredible my life could be ten years down the road if I saved up all of the money I made from this job. I stopped myself before I got too carried away - I had to get the job first. And with no experience, it was a long shot. As I drove on the highway, the area was quite obviously getting richer and richer. The buildings were bigger. The houses, from what I could see, were nice and probably cost more than my family made in five years. I got off at my exit and began sweating. What if I look like an idiot? Maybe everyone else who e-mailed him had thirty years of Butler experience. And I just go in there way out of my league. I drove by a huge hill surrounded by large oak trees. That couldn't be it, could it? I checked my GPS on my phone and it said I had driven past it. I turned around and decided to check what was up the hill. It was steep. I felt as if I was going up a rollercoaster. The big build up just waiting for the sinking feeling in the end. I related that to my situation. What if I walk in there and he just laughs at me and my semi-casual attire and shoos me out? As I approached the top of the hill, I could start seeing parts of the house to the right. It was an old house. No, it wasn't even a house, I thought. It's a mansion. I had never seen such a big home in my life. And to think only two people live there? There must be five stories in it. No wonder it pays $750 a day. I'll be cleaning all day without a break and still not be finished. There were five other cars parked outside. I parked next to them and walked up the wooden stairs from the mini-parking lot they had. As I approached the mansion, my nerves began acting up again. "If you are here for an interview, come in." a note said on the giant wooden door. I turned the knob in the center and opened half of the wooden door and stepped in. There were four other guys there, all better dressed than me. Shit, I knew it, I thought to myself. And they were all older. I took a seat on one of the chairs in the lobby area. "Kind of intimidating, isn't it?" the man to my right said. "Yeah," I smiled and looked down. "Big house." "No, I mean, working for Mr. Greenshelm." "Who is he anyways?" I asked and looked over at him. He looked down and put his hand over his eyes and shook his head, laughing. He gave me a wave of his other hand as if he couldn't believe what I just said. "What?" I asked innocently and looked across the lobby at the other guys waiting for their turn. They also were chuckling to themselves. I wasn't sure what I was missing. He must be an important person in this part of town. A well-dressed man walked down the giant wooden stairs across the room from us. I expected him to get one of us to take us in for an interview, but he just kept walking by and out the door. "Dylan Slade," a voice yelled from the top of the stairs. I looked over. It was a buff man in his thirties. I stood up. "Come on up for your interview." I nodded and walked across the room to the stairs. I looked around the room. It had an impossibly high ceiling with a chandelier in the middle of it. Paintings lined the walls. I couldn't believe how nice and well-kept this place was. I walked up the stairs in uncomfortable silence. There were a ton of stairs and I knew the men behind me were burning holes in my back with their eyes. And meanwhile, Mr. Greenshelm was just staring at me walking towards him. When I finally got to the top, he put his arm around my back. "This way," he said. "Don't be nervous." He took me to a room, opened it, and ushered me in. "Good luck," he said behind me and closed the door. "What?" I didn't have a chance to get it out before he closed the door. I looked around the room. It was big, like everything else in this house. But this room was unique. It was like a bedroom. There were posters of space and the walls were painted instead of just being simply wood. I stood there uncomfortably, not knowing what I was supposed to do. A door opened from the opposite side of the room. A kid stepped out, he looked to be about fifteen years old. His hair was black and skin was clear and pale. He was drying his hands with a towel as he walked out and threw the towel to the side in a bin. "What's your name?" he said in a British accent. "Dylan," I responded. "What's going on?" "What's going on what?" "What are you talking about? Where's Mr. Greenshelm? I'm here for an interview." "Yeah, you are. And I'm doing the interview, not my father. Now, what do you call me?" "I don't know your name. What is it?" I asked. "My name doesn't matter. What do you CALL me?" he raised his voice. I stood there, confused and uneasy. About five seconds later, my common sense kicked in. The kid said, "If you don't know, then get the fuck o--" "Sir," I exclaimed. "I call you sir." He smiled wide. "That's right, and what do I call you?" "Dylan" I asked, unsure. He shook his head, still smiling. "Your butler?" I asked again. He still shook his head. "I don't know, sir," I said. "I'm sorry." Without a word, he walked over to his bed and reached behind it. He picked up a whip and I took a step back. "What's wrong, bitch?" He smirked. "Scared?" "What are you doing, s-sir?" "You have nothing to be afraid of if you answer my question right. What do I call you?" he twirled the whip around. "I d-don't know." "You can figure it out. Well, you'd better in the next minute. Or else..." he made a whipping sound as he flicked it in the air. I stood there and reached back for the door knob just in case. I thought about everything he could call me. Nothing made any sense. "Thirty seconds, Dyl," he sang. What could it be? What was he looking for? Why did this fifteen year old kid have a whip in his bed? Is this what all of us had to go through or just me? I thought I was getting interviewed by Mr. Greenshelm, not his kid. And this isn't even an interview. "Ten seconds," he said, loudly and aggressively. He started smiling again. "Nine. Eight. Seven. Six." I can't think with his counting like this. He's so... annoying. "Five. FOUR. THREE. TWO. ONE!!!" The numbers came louder and louder and faster and faster. He walked towards me, holding the handle in one hand and the whipping part in the other. "Bitch!" I screamed. "You call me 'Bitch'". He giggled to himself, nearly falling over. "You're right, Dilly. I do call you bitch. And you like it, too. Too bad you had the answer too late. I gave you enough time... but now you have to pay the price." "Wait," I said as my heartbeat rose. He threw the whip on his bed. "Oh. Thank you, sir." "Thank you for what?" he said. "For not whipping me." "For not whipping you?" he laughed. "I was only going to whip you if you got the answer wrong. You got it right, so now all you have to do is suck my dick." He unbuttoned his shorts and slid them down along with his briefs. His hard-on stood at full mast. It looked to be about six, maybe seven inches. "W-what?" I said. "You heard me. Now get over here and get to it. You've gotten the furthest out of everyone today. Don't throw it all away," he giggled. I backed up more and grabbed the door handle again and turned it but it wouldn't budge. I shook it but it wouldn't open. It was locked from the outside. He knew this would happen. He is making his son pick the best butler... no... the best slave. This whole situation was too much for me now. "Please, can I just go? I don't want the job anymore." "Oh, please," he said as he sat down on his bed and took his shirt off. "You know you want this job. It's easy. You make me cum and you can get it. Oh, and you have to swallow, too. I forgot that part." "No," I said. "This isn't what I signed up for." "Listen to yourself. As if you're not gay. I'm fifteen and your voice sounds like mine. Look at your gay ass twinky body. You don't even have muscle. You're a faggot and you like sucking dick so come here, it's easy." I just stared at him. "Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I want to do this. And you are fifteen, this is wrong." "Get over it, the world is wrong." I took out my cell phone and started dialing 911. "DAD, HE'S ON HIS PHONE!" the kid yelled. The door busted open and Mr. Greenshelm took my phone out of my hands. The kid giggled on his bed, his dick still hard and exposed. "I like him, Dad. I want him to be our butler." "Sir, I..." I looked at Mr. Greenshelm and was intimidated. "I don't want to do sexual favors for your son for this job. I wanted to cook and clean for you." "If you want this job, you must do what my son asks of you. It will not be often. You will mostly be cleaning and cooking." "Sorry, I don't think I can. I won't tell anyone about this, sir" "I know you won't. Because you know who I am and what I can do. Go on your way now." I walked out the door. "Dad!" the kid screamed. "I want him! I don't want any of the old farts down there! I like him!" "Dylan," Mr. Greenshelm said from behind me. I turned around. "What do you say about me doubling your salary?" I looked at his eyes and felt ashamed. I walked towards him, looking down. "When do I start?" I asked. "Sir." He smiled. "Now." He ushered me back into his son's room and closed the door. ------------------------------------------------------- Feedback: joeyblow91@hotmail.com