Date: Sat, 30 Aug 2003 12:49:35 -0700 (PDT)
From: Waddie Greywolf <waddiebear@yahoo.com>
Subject: Ties That Bind Chpater 4

DISCLAIMER: WARNING!!  This is a work of homoerotic fiction written by an
adult for the purpose of entertainment for other adults.  If you are not
eighteen year of age or you have any problem with this type of literature
then this is a warning to read no further.  The author will not be held
responsible for any reason if you do.  (Codes: M/M BD/SM Master/slave WS
Anal Oral)

Copyright 2003 Waddie Greywolf
Mail to: <waddiebear@yahoo.com>
=====================================================
THE TIES THAT BIND
By Waddie Greywolf


CHAPTER 4 ~ THE DIE IS CAST


Part I ~ Gollywog's Cock Walk


T'was brillig by the slithy troves,
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogroves,
And the mome raths outgrabe

from Beware the Jabberwocky
Lewis Carroll


We got so drunk that night I don't remember much. I do remember being
carried from room to room impaled on the giant's cock like a backward
papoose.  After I had made a slut of myself by impaling my butt on the
giant's cock, Master Jeb thought it would be great fun to bind us together.
He took strips of old inner tubes he cut down to three inch strips and
stretched them over and around Big Jim and me.

People do the damndest things when they drink, especially with a little
killer weed.  The strips were just the right diameter to keep us together but
had enough stretch to allow some movement. The more strips he stretched
around us the more comfortable it became and the happier my hole
became. I know there was a silly grin on the other one.

There were two rings on either side of my harness. Master Jeb tied a soft
cotton rope to one side, looped it over the giant's shoulders and back
around to the other side of my harness. It was like the harness became a
swing and the giant became my tree who's massive root was growing deep
within my red earth.

Master Jeb was obsessed with his momentary, kinky creative powers. The
design was practical and functional, as well as elegant. Master Jeb crossed
my boots behind the giant's waist and tied them there so they wouldn't
come unlocked or fall lower than they're optimal position to cause my ass
to be firmly shunted to the base of Master Jim's shaft.

It allowed a great deal of movement and control for Master Jim. He put on
a show for Master Jeb after he finished his clever bonding work. He
showed him how easy it was to fuck their new trainee with his wondrous
new reverse-papoose-ambulatory-slave-boy-fuck-machine. He only had to
walk.  The give of the rubber and being totally impaled on his huge cock,
Big Jim could fuck me non-stop simply by moving from room to room.

Riding Big Jim's cock was like I climbed aboard a huge beast of the night
on the merry-go-round and instead of riding in the saddle someone pulled
me onto it's cock underneath and tied me there. (I was a strange child.)
How did it feel? Not too shabby! I had my arms locked around Big Jim's
neck and my head pressed against the bear fur of his panoramic chest.

My mouth was just the right height to suck his huge brown nipples. I went
crazy sucking the flavors from his tits. I felt like Maggie Simpson with a
new pacifier. I remember being carried down to the basement and Master
Jim laying us down on the leather covered futon making sweet love to me
as he fucked me slow and tenderly.

He invited Master Jeb down to watch. My soon-to-be new owner brought
his beer, took his pants off, sat down in an overstuffed chair, and began to
play with his huge fat cock as he watched the show. He seemed to have no
problem with us pairing off but I felt guilty. I thought he should share a
greater part. I kept suggesting Big Jim might consider letting Master Jeb
fuck me for a while; however, we never could have gotten out of the
rubber and rope harness.

Master Jeb assured me he would have his time with me and he was
enjoying the show.  I begged him to let me have his come as he began to
jack off. He was generous enough to let me suck it out of him just as it
was coming up through his fat cock. I barely got my mouth around it to
give it a couple of good sucks and my new owner exploded in my mouth
so hard it hit the back of my throat. He tasted wonderful and I saved some
to roll around in my mouth to get the full essence like a good wine taster
might. He kept letting me suck on his cock and I began to pray I was
going to get a chaser.

My prayer was answered as he gave me a couple of mouths full of his
wonderfully flavored recycled beer piss.   It excited me so much with Big
Jim fucking me with long slow deep strokes and Master Jeb's big dick
exploding in my mouth, drinking his recycled beer, that I came, and came,
and came again. Master Jim felt it as my ass spasmed three times while he
was taking a long slow inward stroke. I continued to suck on the big head
of Master Jeb's cock as he rubbed my head and Big Jim spoke in a lilting
voice,

"Jeb?" Master Jim queried.

"Yes, old friend?"

"I feel warm and sticky around my stomach area."

"Oh really? That's possible." Jeb replied winking at me. He knew what
happened.

"Well my cock is sheathed by a beautiful young slave boy's hot little
ass and I know I didn't shoot." He began to play with Jeb for my
benefit. I just sucked harder like I was oblivious to their developing
conversation.

"Your point being...?" Jeb led him on.

"Is there something about our new slave-boy that I don't know and
perhaps should?"

"Could you be referring to the unusual fact that he's able to come while
being fucked?" Master Jeb giggled and leaned over to kiss me on the
forehead.

"Why am I always the last to be told these things?" Big Jim wailed
mockingly.

"Maybe it's because when you fucked the shit out a' him the last time he
was here,  you ordered him not to come and never found out." He nailed
Big Jim to the wall.

"Well, I can't fault him for following my orders and I can't fault him now.
We've had a lot to drink and I've been fucking him for three hours.  I ain't
gonna' stop fucking him just because he came. Tightened him up a bit."

"Master Jim?" I said in a drunken haze.

"Yes, slave boy?" he said trying to make his voice ominous.

"I'm sorry I came without permission. I'll gladly accept any punishment
you feel necessary. You felt so damn good and Master Jeb's come and
piss tasted so good.  I felt so warm and useful having both holes fed at the
same time. I let myself go. I wasn't paying attention and it happened so
fast I couldn't hold it. I realize that's not a good excuse. No excuse is
good enough to justify disobeying your Master.

I'm willing to accept any punishment but I beg you, please don't deny
your slave emptying your big bull balls into my gut this evening. I would
consider it the greatest honor to receive your seed in my hole. The perfect
ending to a perfect day."

"Jeb's right, slave, you won't need a great deal of training. You do know
the right words to say,  so here's my answer."  He gently kissed me and
kept kissing as he began to increase the urgency of his strokes. I could see
Master Jeb in the chair behind Jim giving me a thumbs up and winking at
me. He like to watch Big Jim fuck, hell, anybody would. His old dick was
getting fat again watching.   Big Jim switched gears and I was now getting
his huge piece of meat slammed into my ass harder and harder, with a
steady increasing rhythm and speed. I renewed my sphincter strength.

I clamped down hard on  Big Jim's cock knowing he wanted to open my
hole to the feeling he needed and he would fuck me meaner, harder and
faster until he did. I had enough of the devil still in me that I wasn't going
to just give it to him. Damn it! I'd been riding his huge shaft for three
hours and I felt I deserved a good hard fucking.

I got Big Jim's number the last time he fucked me and I was going to
make damn sure I got fucked good before I gave it up to him. He seemed
to reach a plateau of a good steady rhythm pulling almost all the way out
and slamming the entire length into me. Talk about an `E' ticket ride. No
man has ever fucked me better. He remained at that level for sometime. It
was great but I wanted to end the day with a bang, so to speak.

He seemed like he had some idea what was happening but wasn't real
sure. He continued at one level, it would seem, to wear the pucker out of
my hole. I resolved I wanted to be fucked a bit longer and a bit harder so I
clamped my ass tighter on his prick. It worked. He was going to get what
he needed or I was going to have to order a retread for my ass. He shifted
gears again and started fucking me mean and hard.

The rubber inner tubes would part us then slam us back together in the
hardest fuck imaginable. They would return me to the same position each
time so Big Jim could get maximum benefit out of each stroke. It was
some damn good fucking. Best I ever had to that point. Big Jim was going
where no man had gone before. It's what I wanted and I was getting it, all
of it, hard, fast and deep. He was doing a bang up job of fucking me and
deserved to claim his prize.

"You want it, Master?" I spoke softly and respectfully.

"I'm gonna' take it away from you, slave."

"No, Master, I'm gonna' give it up to you,...right!...Now!"  I relaxed my
ass muscle at that moment and felt him increase his stroke. It was what he
needed. Now, he was fucking the best part of my ass, his part, the  part he
worked for and I was giving it to him.

"This is where we separate the men from the boys my little fuck-slave.
I'm your man fucking my man-slave and getting my part of his hot, sweet,
ass. I own that hole slave. Whether you give it up or I take it.  I'm always
going to get that part of your butt I need, Son. That little ass is mine now
slave you're getting fucked good. I'm plantin' my flag in you man hole,
Right!!...NOW!!" He was so damned hot I shot the second time
screaming,

"I can't hold it,  Master,  I'm SORRY!" I don't even think he heard me.
He had gone off into his world of climax. His eyes were closed as he
threw back his big head. Saliva started flowing from his open mouth while
shaking his head from side to side like a wild animal. I was soaked in his
spit and body sweat and felt myself spinning in a vortex, falling deeper
and deeper in love with this wild animal.

Now I know what Beauty saw in the Beast. If he was anything like Big
Jim no wonder she wanted her beast back when she awoke one morning
next to a beautiful, fey prince. Poor thing, she probably screamed at the
top of her voice when she realized,

"My, God!   I'll never get fucked like that again." She immediately started
running through the palace looking for a razor blade.  She was sure life
wouldn't be worth the living anymore.  Once you've been fucked by a
man that lets the animal within him come through in his sex you can never
go back to polite, vanilla sex.  Poor Beauty, I know how she felt.

Master Jim collapsed on top of me and rolled us on our sides as I kissed
around his face thanking him for the good fucking.  I told him how proud
and honored I felt to have his load in my gut. He grumbled something
about fucking slave boy three steps ahead controlling a Master,
harrummpp,...some things to work out,... as he, gently kissed me then
drifted off to sleep from the dimi mort of climax.

I didn't have much choice but I was glad I got to lay all night and sleep,
locked in the arms of this wild animal with his savage fuck pole safely
locked away in my slammer. I awoke a few times and took a couple of
good strokes on it, wiggled my boy butt down to the base, and drifted off
to sleep again. Big Jim would pull me close in his big arms and kiss me on
top of my head. The last thing I remember was a tender kiss from Master
Jeb as he left for bed.

"Bull Dog Butch the giant killer. You're a piece of work boy and you are
so welcome to our world. Sleep well in the arms of your gentle giant."
whispered Master Jeb to me.

"I love you, Master Jeb."

"I believe you, Son,  and whether you know it or not you're teaching this
old man to learn to love again. Thank you for that. Goodnight, my
beautiful, new slave-boy."

"G'nite,  Master Jeb."

Master Jim and I slept locked together in Master Jeb's impromptu harness.
The giant would move and I had no option but to move with him. I woke
up once lying on the giant's chest on a soft bed of bear fur and lay my
head back down to be lulled back into a peaceful sleep by the rhythm of
his big heart.

I was lost. I sank beneath the surface for the third time from which there
was no recovery. I wasn't kidding myself, I knew he would rip his own
heart out and see me sold at auction rather than tell his true feelings to his
friend.  So much for my plans of playing it cool. Here we were bound
together for the night. Close enough to breathe each others breath.  Was
Master Jeb trying to tell us something by tying us together?  Big Jim was
sharp enough to think about it but never questioned Jeb. I began to see that
he was as much in love with me as I was with him.

Actions speak louder than words. Since my return to Mt. Washington, as
gruff as he tried to be I would just look at him without a word and this
funny little smile would work it's way across his incredibly ugly,
misshapen, ruggedly handsome,  drop dead ,wonderfully masculine face.
He was the kind of man who had no concept of his own attraction and
wouldn't bother to listen to someone describe him as good looking. Words
like that were meaningless to him, not because he was stupid, but because
he always depended on his size to be a drawing card.

 It proved to be an effective tool at intimidating folks to see things his
way. It also kept people at a distance. He didn't have to be good or bad
looking, he just was, the giant. He chose very few people to share his
private thoughts and invited even fewer into his world. Only two men
knew very much about Big Jim. His past was a mystery to all but one and
that was Jeb. He did not and could not intimidate me, which sent him in
conflicting orbits.

He wanted to control me but knew it wasn't going to be easy. Every old
trick he tried was meeting with failure.  His size would make most slaves
and a lot of Masters cringe at the rifle snap of his huge fingers. I obeyed
him, did all he asked without hesitation but down deep inside he felt it was
only because I was falling deeply in love with him I gave into most of his
games.

What he didn't know, the key to his most puzzling conundrum was that in
my reality, I all ready was his slave.  He didn't have to do anything to win
the battle. He was the victor. He  won. Like Vincentgetorix,  I lost  to win.
It was the only battle of Julius Ceasar's Gallic campaign that he lost;
however, he didn't actually lose, he conceded.  He saw a drop dead, good
looking  Gall general on a hard charging and spirited white stallion.

It was love at first sight, at least on Caesar's part.  He sent his messengers
to Vincentgetorix to tell him if he would come across the river, have
dinner with Caesar (nothing fancy he was just whipping up one of his
famous salads) and spend the night in Caesar's tent, he would give the
battle to Vencentgetorix, spare his people and install him as Roman
Magistrate. He did and Caesar kept his word.  He became a great leader of
his people.

I conceded  the war and my slave's soul to Big Jim.  He  owned it. I gave,
in all good faith,  my heart to Master Jeb for training. My heart is my faith,
my trust, my confidence, and my joy in life and others.

Master Jim was ever more fascinated by little things he was finding out
about me. Every time he thought he had me figured out, all programed
macros in place and working, something would occur that would reset his
computer to default.  Much like Microsoft's operating systems.  All he had
to do was ask. As I saw it, it was his job to find out, not mine to take a
funnel and pour it in his ear.

My place, the battle won, was to let him find his way to become my
Caesar.  He admitted to Jeb that weekend if he hadn't made a  promise to
him he would be in over his head.  I began to realize that he, too,  was
suffering as much as I. While he was still firm in his resolve, I was
becoming less threatened by it and that threw him.

There are some waters deep enough to drown even a giant. My own bull
headed resolve was I made the right decision to enter training under
Master Jeb. Big Jim secretly felt if I truly cared about him I'd be begging
him to reconsider and  talk to Jeb. I didn't. I acted like I fully understood I
would be sold;  I was fully adjusted to the fact and comfortable with it,
case closed.

I offered him no comfort, other than to serve him unquestioningly. That
threw him, too. If I was in love with him, as much as he felt then, I should
be pouting, resentful, and slow to do his bidding. I wasn't. I served him
with good humor and love. If he wouldn't talk about what was happening
between us then I damn sure wasn't either. I refused to be a sniveling
slave boy begging him for his love. I may be a slave in all it's meaning
and purpose but I was also a human being with fears, hopes, desires,
fantasies, and needs.

You can't breed that out of a dog and you damn sure won't find a switch
on the back of a man to turn those things off. They're default settings put
there by a computer programmer much higher than you or me.  I wanted to
become the best of slaves. Whoever became my Master would be served
by me like no other. I may feel comfortable, learn to care about a Master
enough, to give him my heart but no man will ever own my soul unless I
choose to give it.

As a Master you can order a slave to do your will. You have choices to be
cold, rejecting, debasing, unjustly punish, humiliate, or break you word, to
your slave. You can break his spirit, play havoc with his psyche and his
soul, but what will you end up with? A fawning, frightened, insecure, guilt
ridden, untrustworthy, subhuman mirror of your on insecurities.

Or, you can become a Master that leads by example in the truest sense of
the word. A Master is a teacher or one who exhibits strong influence or
control in shaping another's life. You can be as strict a disciplinarian as
you wish; it will do him good; a well-disciplined slave is a happy slave.

It says to him you care enough to shape him into a better person. You
may remain aloof but you must ultimately care for or even show him love.
You don't have to be demonstrative or overly emotional about it. If you
choose  to show him affection once in a while it will only bond you
stronger. He'll know you love him by the way you care for him and your
pride in his development.

Anyone can beat a dog and it will still come back. You're all he has and
you do provide some sense of belonging no matter how small. However, a
well disciplined, well trained dog,  doesn't need you fawning over him. He
knows you care about him and love him by the way you care for him.
Should you do less for your slave, a human pet, to provide for him what he
needs, an invest the time and effort  to produce something you'll be proud
to own?

What then, did I want from Big Jim?  Does a slave have a right to expect
anything?  Even a dog learns to expect certain things from his owner. If
you don't want an animal to expect  things don't set precedents. I only
wanted Master Jim to try for a love he knew existed. As a new, untrained
slave it wasn't my place.  He wouldn't try. To make an effort and fail
would've   been enough justification for wanting me to love him.

We lay together the next morning still entwined like `Lacoon' the great
Greek sculpture of a father and his sons entwined with a giant snake. (Try
one up your butt all night.) No complaints. Every slave should experience
it at least once. My Master woke before me. I was laying on his massive
hairy chest and he started playing with my hair to gently wake me. He felt
like shit and so did I but he struggled to see the humor in our predicament.

"If I didn't know better I might think Jeb planned this."

"Oh, I don't think so,  Master."

"You love Jeb. You'd stick up for him." He kidded me.

"Yes, I do, Master Jim, he's a good man."

"Yeah, he is, Kid,  he's been damn good to me."

"Well, I guess we'll just haf'ta wait for him to wake up to get out of this
infernal contraption. Damn! It seemed like such a good idea last night."
Big Jim resolved.

"It was a great idea. Still is." I said as I wiggled my butt back down on his
shaft. I felt it starting to grow inside me.

"I gotta piss like a race horse, pretty slave." the giant spoke.

"Since when does a Master need permission to empty into his slave's
butt?" I yanked Big Jim's chain.

"Oh, yeah, me Master, you slave. Thanks for reminding me, Boy."  He
kissed me good morning as he let it go inside me. I'm glad he was getting
erect again as he made a bigger stopper for my ass. The more I bit down
on his dick so it wouldn't leak, the harder he became. Thank God, Master
Jeb came down the stairs to the dungeon about that time and released us
from our bonds.

He had wickedly loaded on the stereo the chorus,"Let us break their bonds
asunder" from Handel's Messiah.  His, not too subtle humor,  was not lost
on Big Jim and I. Some jokes are unforgivable. We had a good laugh
which didn't do much for our heads. We were finally free.  Master Jim
picked me up, carried me to the shower area in the dungeon and gently
pulled out. I didn't leak a drop and made one giant leap for the toilet
where I proceeded to give way to  much giant piss.

I found myself transferring my affection and need to serve to Master Jeb.
I sensed he deeply needed the services of an empathetic slave-boy, that is,
when I could keep my mouth off of Big Jim's boots. Big Jim accused me
of loving his boots more than him and made the mistake of asking me. I
told him if he cared about me never stop wearing his big boots. He looked
confused, then hurt, then threw back his head in laughter,  knowing I was
yanking his chain.

"Damn you, Bull Dog, you're gonna' be the death of this old giant yet."

I had several opportunities to be alone with Master Jeb over the weekend.
We were on a new level of communication. I would sit at his feet and
discuss things about the coming period of training. I would often grab him
around his legs,  lay my head on his knee and he would rub my head to
assure me of his affection and sincerity.

I had a few concerns and told him things I specifically requested he not
share with Big Jim. I explained that while I knew they were the closest of
friends, brothers even, I would appreciate the ability to tell him some
things in confidence. He seemed almost relieved that I asked that bond of
him and assured me it would be so. I asked him if he knewabout the
harness and plug and he said `no.'

"I mean no disrespect, and I'm not complaining, Master Jeb, but that
wasn't my original contract with you."

"I know, Son, I know.   You're right, but I did place you under Jim's
control so he had that right as your temporary Master."

"I'm just trying to understand, Master Jeb."

"Nothing wrong with that. It would seem, from what you've told me,  it
didn't do him much good." He laughed.

"No, Sir, but I want you to understand if I request him to leave it on.
While I'll be doing it to please him, I have my own reasons. I don't want
to say more about it right now."

"I can't expect you to reveal everything in your heart right away, Son. I'm
truly pleased at the progress you've made this week. I think you've slain
some personal dragons."

"Master Jeb?"

"Yes, slave boy?"

"I like it when you call me that, but what I wanted to say is, I wasn't so
drunk last night that I don't remember what I told you before we said
goodnight and I meant it." He bent over and kissed the top of my head.

"I know and we'll grow closer in time and I welcome it. I may never tell
you that I love you but you'll know."

"I understand, Master."

"By the way, Big Jim was a little disturbed by Officer Earl D.'s attention
to you.  Officer Shaw is a fine Master. One of the best. He lost his slave
three years ago and hasn't had the heart to take another.  I told him when
the time was right he would have the right slave boy drop into his life
unexpectedly. From his interest in you, I think he believed me. What is the
mathematical probability of your meeting being a chance occurrence?"

"Don't know,  Sir, but I agree he's a damn, fine looking man.  One of the
best looking men I've ever see."

"I couldn't help notice he gave you his card. You wanna' tell me about
it?"  I described in detail our encounter and my faux pax blurting out my
request to clean his boots. He asked me to call and set up an appointment
to clean `em for him. He asked me to wear my leathers."

"You going to?" Master Jeb asked.

"I don't know,  Sir, do you think I should? I won't if you don't want me to
or it's not proper etiquette, but he did do me a favor. I feel I owe him that
much!"

"Indeed you do, slave. I would encourage you to but let's keep it between
us, okay?  Officer Shaw is one hell of a good solid man and is well
thought of in our community. His last slave was killed in a  plane crash
going back to visit his adopted dad and  grandparents in some small jerk
water town that only had commuter flights connecting to the main
terminal in Atlanta.

On a rainy, stormy night the little two prop plane went down. No
survivors.  Earl D. damn near went crazy. We had to have someone with
him round the clock for about six weeks until he started pulling out of it.
Talk about a Master/slave bond. You could do worse than Earl D. Shaw
for a Master, Son.  He has a dick to make most men cry with envy;
bigger'n me, Boy.  He's originally from Louisiana bayou country; half
Cajun; fair complexion, jet black hair and lavender eyes. The most
startling eyes you ever looked into."
"He had his sunglasses on the whole time I was with him."

"Yeah, that's part of his persona. Makes him look bad."

"No argument there. He was baaaad!" I said. We both laughed,  "Well, if
you think it'll be all right I'll give him a call. He probably won't
remember me."

"Are you kidding, he wanted me to contact him when you were put on the
market. He may be interested in buying you. Yes, you call and be on your
best behavior. He's a stickler for slave manners. He's hard, demanding,
(more for his slaves betterment) and pretty rough in the dungeon;
however, he's sane and doesn't take a slave further than he knows he can
go. Damn right, give him a call; be good for both of you.  I've heard
rumors from our family he hasn't been with anyone since his slave  was
killed. His slave was Jim's nephew."

"I'll call him,  Master Jeb."

"I'll expect a full report." Master Jeb said demandingly.

"You shall have it, Sir!" I said curtly and we laughed again.

"We've enjoyed having you this weekend and you're welcome every
weekend until your thirty days are up. I'll understand if you can't. You
may be busy getting rid of stuff. Now, you're  not going to change your
mind are you?"

"Master Jeb, do you doubt me?"

"Okay, even an old Master can say something stupid."

"You're not old,   you're prime to me." He started laughing

"You know? You just may kill that giant yet." We laughed at his joke. I
walked over to the sofa and got something out of my saddle bags and
handed it to him.

"What's this?" Master Jeb said looking at a small wooden box. It was an
old wine box  a couple of bottles of good wine came in.  I sanded it down,
lacquered it and finished it.  I wired the top to the bottom and sealed it
with melted plastic and a ring stamp with my initials. You had to break the
seal and undo the wire to get it open. It had a small hasp and lock as well.

"May I leave this in your care."

"Of course,  Son, what's in it?"

"Will you trust me if I tell you it's nothing that might cause trouble, like
dope. It's just some personal papers and stuff about my past that isn't bad;
I just don't care for anyone to know about. If anything should happen to
me you have my permission to open it. There are two documents that are
signed by me and notarized.

One is Power of Attorney and the other is Medical Power of Attorney if I
should need a medical decision made and I'm unable. I don't want my
family involved. You decide the disposition of the rest of the contents,
give them away, or keep them for yourself if you want them."

"No problem, Son, I must have fifteen or twenty trunks in the attic with
slave's names on them. We'll get one for you and you can store some stuff
here.  It will always be available to you. You'll want to keep your leathers.
Some Masters may want you to wear them, some won't. Some will want
you nude in private all the time but might want you to wear them when
you go out.

While you're here you'll be just like you are now. I'm a dirty old man and
like to look at your hot, butch bottom body. After you work out with Jim
for three months you won't recognize yourself in the mirror."

I told Master Jeb about Jake. My Dad. I told him how it had all come
about and I thought Master Jeb was going to bust a gut laughing at my
retelling of how Jake fucked me with his big boot not knowing I had a big
plug in my butt.

"I know you're not lying because it's too bizarre not to be true." Then he
laughed again. I told him about my concerns, not for me but for Jake and
how my leaving work might affect him.

"Well, you know,  Son, you don't have to cut him off."

"How's that,  Sir?"

"Well,  he thinks you have this Daddy that keeps a harness on you and a
plug in your ass. Well, it's the truth. Now you do. You could introduce me
as your daddy. He's certainly welcome to come over here and use you if
he wants."

"Damn, that would be great. He said he'd like to meet my daddy but then
my daddy was a fantasy of Big Jim. I had to create some story for wearing
the harness and plug."

"You were thinking on your feet and you did well to protect his feelings.
That couldn't be bad. Do you enjoy him fucking you?"

"Woah!!Yes, Sir! In a way, Master Jeb, he's become the father I never had
and I love him. Not as a Master but as family. Oh hell, I'm not making
sense."

"Yes, you are, you're making a lot of sense. It's unbelievable the
difference in your thought processes from last Friday evening to this
weekend. You've come far, Son. You seem more at peace with yourself."

"I hope so, Master Jeb. My existence depends on it."

"I'm not sure I understand, Son?"

"It's not important, Master." I said as I grabbed him around his legs and
squeezed. It was Sunday afternoon late and my time on Mount
Washington was coming to an end. Master Jim was gone for a while and
when he returned Master Jeb told him he decided I was to continue
wearing the harness and plug. It would be good pre-training for me.
Master Jeb slipped me a key to the lock on the harness with orders not to
use it unless someone who's boots I might happen to be cleaning wished
to remove it. Wink-wink! I assured him I wouldn't.

I didn't want to leave and almost cried as I hugged both Master Jim and
Jeb. How had these two men become so important to my life in a little
over one week's time? Big Jim was affectionate and kissed me goodbye.
He again saw me to my bike and I was on top of the situation this time and
in good spirits. I knew I would be seeing him again next weekend and my
heart wasn't so heavy.

I also formed a comradeship with Master Jeb that helped buffer my
frustrations. I had a fleeting moment I suppressed to throw myself at Big
Jim's feet and eat those damned boots of his one more time before I rode
away. I was better now. Things began to take on new perspectives for me
and everything was not as urgent as it once was. It felt strange to drive
away from people and a lifestyle I was beginning to think of as normal
and head back to the crazy world of my everyday life.




PART II ~ Descent Into The Valley of Smoke

"Anyone lived in a pretty how town,
with up so floating many bells down
he sang his didn't he danced his did"
e. e. cummings

Los Angeles has always had a smog problem; always, even before the
white man. During the late summer the valley was know by the Indians to
have massive brush fires covering the valley basin with smoke. The name
they gave the area meant `Valley of smoke.' Mt. Washington was a little
higher elevation and missed some of the smog. Coming down off the
mountain I descended into a brownish thick air that burned my eyes and
hurt my throat. `This shit couldn't be good for you,' I thought.

I got home, read my mail, fed the cat and threw my clothes off to relax. I
reached for the phone and dialed Mt. Washington. Master Jeb answered.

"Master Jeb?"

"You all right, Son?"

"Oh, yes Sir, I just got in and started to relax.   I wanted to call and thank
you for my extension Friday. In the excitement and confusion of Friday
evening, I may have forgotten to thank you. I also wanted to thank you for
the weekend and to let you know I all ready miss you."

"Damn, Son, what a' ya trying to do? Rip this old man's heart out?"
Master Jeb said laughing.  "I want you to start thinking of this place as
your home and you're welcome here anytime. If you want to ride up for an
evening. Come on! If you can we'd love to have you back next weekend. I
think you did thank me but after you told me why you needed the
extension I felt it certainly was for a good reason.

You couldn't just leave your dad when he needed you. You tell him you
spoke with your daddy, he gets back next week and is looking forward to
meeting the good man who was thoughtful enough to help keep my little
boy satisfied. Tell him I said he'd be doing me a great favor to make sure
you're well fucked.  By the way, I miss you, too. You have a good week,
Son, and let us hear from you."

"I will, Master Jeb, Goodnight." Master Jeb was quickly becoming family.
Much like Jake. I felt a deep affection for him growing day by day. I
thought about how much notice I should give Sam at work. I didn't want
to let anyone know yet. Two weeks is standard. I'll notify them on the
fifteenth. I didn't want to have to dodge Jake's natural curiosity for more
than two weeks as to why and where I was going.

He knew me well enough by now to tell if I was blowing smoke up his
ass. I was afraid of what the news might do to him. He grew to depend on
me at work to bring his spirits up, to do the good fellows bit, and lately to
do clean up jobs the other mechanics fucked up. I decided I would tell
Jake first, the Friday before telling Sam the following Monday.

I bought heavily into stock options the company offered and needed to
find out whether they should be cashed or held on to.  I was making more
money than I needed to live on and managed to build up a pretty nice
savings account thinking,  later I might want to buy a home. I had eighteen
thousand in savings. I kept more money in my checking account than I
should. I would deposit my pay checks to checking and then when it
became a high balance would move funds to savings. Hell, I hadn't
transferred any funds in a while and had eight thousand in that account.

Then there was the long term account I took out when in Nam and added
my severance pay to it. Some clerk somewhere screwed up and I got
extended on my first tour of duty eighteen months. The regs stated only
RA & RN (regular army & regular navy) were to be extended. I was
drafted which made me a reservist. They extended me anyway. Then I
shipper over after that for another hitch.

When I got out some sharp yeoman/disbursing clerk  caught the error and
the regs stated if any man was retained in the military due to error, then
the government had the responsibility to pay him compensatory what he
would be making on the outside for that period of time in regard to his
education level.

I  received an M.A. degree the same day I received my draft notice. They
had to pay me twenty three thousand dollars.  That was a lot of money in
1965. I sunk all but three thousand in a long term interest bearing account.
So I had total money assets of close to fifty thousand. That certainly
would be enough to start over again if necessary.

I also collected rare coins and had about three thousand invested there. I
decided to hang on the coins and put them in the trunk. That evening I
began making a neat pile in the corner of things I absolutely could not part
with. It was to be no bigger than I though a trunk might hold. There really
wasn't much. I didn't have a lot of "things."

The only other thing I had to think of getting rid of was my bike Pegasus.
A 1966 BSA Mark III with dual carbs. I knew what I was going to do with
it. Jake had admired it and helped me work on it in the shop when things
were slow. I bought a complete set of Wentworth tools to work on it.
British didn't use SAE nor Metric. They had their own standard called
Wentworth. Go figure?

Jake would never be able to buy a bike for himself because of his family.
There was never enough money for everything they needed. Maybe that
would cushion the blow of me leaving. I wanted Jake to have it. Hell, it
ought a' be good for at least a couple more fucks, I thought,  laughing to
myself.

I forgot about my tools. I had a small fortune invested in mechanic's tools.
I bought a lot of single purpose tools. Well, I have to take that one up with
Master Jeb. Some Master might want a competent mechanic for a slave
boy. Not only could I suck him off I could lube their crankcase and adjust
their linkage. I was pleased with my joke. I thought to myself more
seriously, `Wouldn't that be a selling point?'  That idea needed Master
Jeb's counsel.

At least I had a workable plan. I would be fine. I was growing stronger in
my conviction that I was doing the right thing and fear seemed to be
diminishing by inverse proportion.



Part III ~ Nine to Five

"She works hard for the money"
Tina Turner

I looked forward to work Monday morning. I even got up early and got
my act together. I thought I'd surprise Jake and get there early; maybe I
could give him a hand. I fed Puss-leene and headed out the door. Damn I
was going to be thirty minutes early. Sam would faint. I had the reputation
of getting to my bay ten minutes before work started. Hell, didn't take me
that long to get my tools out. Those other clowns would stand around
eating doughnuts and drinking coffee.

Jake was surprised to see me early and didn't have all the assignment
sheets completed. He couldn't type and had to wait `til the secretary got
there. I grabbed them out of his hand.

"Follow me." I instructed him. I knocked them out on the shop typewriter
in ten minutes. Dad was pleased.

"You saved my butt, Kid." Jake said to me.

"Then we're even, Dad."

"What do you mean?"

"You saved mine the other night. If you hadn't done what you did for me,
I'm sure the damn thing would have fallen off." Jake laughed so hard he
had to get a drink of water.

"By the by, Dad, I spoke to my daddy over the weekend and he said to tell
you how much he appreciated you standing in for him and really wanted
to meet you when he gets back next week. He also wanted to know if
you'd mind helping out this week?"

"Hell, no, Kid, be happy, too. He really said that,  huh?"

"Swear to God, Dad."

"Damn, I'll look forward to meeting him, too.  Sounds like a good and
decent man."

"Okay, Kid, let's march your ass back to your bay for inspection. Your old
man would want me looking out for you."

"You're the best, Dad."

* * * * * * * ** * * * *

Monday breezed by.  Jake didn't say anything about stopping by and had
to stay late for some reason. I got home, was having a beer and my phone
rang.

"Hello."

"Hello, is this Andrew Beaureguard James Jr."

"Yes, Sir, this is Beau."

"This is Officer Earl D. Shaw calling."

"Thank you for calling, Sir. I was going to call you tomorrow."

"You were, huh?"

"Yes, Sir, Master Shaw." I thought I'd see what response I got.

"I appreciate your respect, Son, but call me Office Earl D. or Officer Shaw
for right now. I haven't been called `Master' for a while. Perhaps you
understand?"

"I do, Sir, Officer Shaw it is."

"Thanks, Son.  Now, about that job you were going to do for me. When do
you think you'd be available?"

"Considering what you did for me, Officer Shaw, I'll make myself
available at your convenience, Sir."

"How about being in my driveway on your bike this Friday four-thirty
sharp."

I thought, `Hell, I don't get off 'till four-thirty. I could get off an hour
early Friday. I never ask for time off and Sam owes me a couple.'

"I'll be there, Sir, Friday afternoon, four-thirty, sharp."

"Wear your leathers, Son."

"Yes, Sir, I haven't forgotten."

"Good, look forward to seeing you then."

"Same here, Officer Shaw, and thanks for calling, Sir."

"You're welcome, Son."

Damn, I had me a date with one of the hottest motorcycle officers I'd ever
seen. I must be doing something right.

"Thank ya' Jay-zus! Gotta' call Master Jeb."  I shouted to no one but the
puss.

The week flew by. I asked Sam if I could knock off an hour early on
Friday I had something I needed to take care of. I'd come in thirty five
minutes early Tuesday morning and helped Dad again. Sam said, sure.
True to his word dad dropped by Wednesday afternoon and threw a really
memorable fuck into me. Shit,  it was so good I should of erected
bleachers and sold tickets.

Jake told me if he was now an official stand in he wanted to make damn
sure it took and lasted for at least three days. Talk about
imprinting/conditioning. He snapped his fingers at me and just pointed to
his boots. Then snapped them again and pointed to the soles. Damn, he
was getting cocky. He loved it and so did I. After all, you gotta' expect a
little discipline from your old man.



Part IV ~ Officer Earl D. Shaw ~ L.A.'s Finest


"Come with me, don't turn to look, become
mine and I will show you the physical
pleasures of paradise that only one man
may show another." ~ Mephistopheles to Faust


Officer Shaw didn't live too far from my apartment. Good thing, by the
time I left work, got home, showered, shaved, fed puss, put my leathers on
it was damn near four o'clock. I all ready checked out the address the
night before so I wouldn't have to search. I was in Officer Shaw's
driveway at exactly four twenty-nine and he rode up on his cop bike right
behind me.

He showed me where to park my bike and slowly got off his. I remember
the way he swaggered up to me on the lake and my dick started growing in
its cage. He took his sunglasses off with his helmet and I got my first look
at his eyes. Holy shit! They were a dark violet color, almost purple. They
were startling to look into and had the strangest effect on me.  I couldn't
stop looking into them and sensed a deep sadness. His dark skin, jet black
hair and mustache accented an other world eeriness of his eyes.

"Forgive me, Officer Shaw. I was taught that staring is impolite."

"It's all right, Son. Don't be uncomfortable. You'll get use to them." He
smiled the warmest smile with a mouth filled with perfect teeth. He was
drop dead, fucking gorgeous. He wasn't a pretty man. There was nothing
about him that you could even equate to pretty. He was a hyper-masculine,
handsome son of a bitch.

"Come on in,  Son." He invited.

"Thank you, Sir."

"Can I get you something to drink?"

"A beer if you have it, Sir"

"Have you had any training, Son?"

"Not yet, Sir."

"Who taught you to say, "Sir" every time you speak to me?"

"I'm from the South, Sir, I had manners beat into me as a kid"

"Well, that's good and bad. I would have loved to have done that for you."
he smiled wryly.

"Sorry, Sir." I replied. He laughed as he handed me the beer.

"See that hall there?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Take your beer and walk down that hall. First door on the left is a small
bedroom. Go in there and take off your clothes, leave them across the bed
and come back. Don't make me send you back because of modesty. I have
no time for that. If you're wearing any sexual devices leave them on for
right now, understand, Son?"

"Yes, Sir, thank you, Sir." I took my beer and walked off down the hall to
the small bedroom. His house was situated on the highest point in
Silverlake and was tri-level. It was beautiful and showed expensive taste. I
slowly took off my clothes,  neatly arranging them in piles on the bed.

I wondered what his reaction would be when he saw the harness and cage,
to say nothing of the plug up my butt. I was down to the harness and plug,
grabbed my beer and headed back into the other room. He didn't look up
from what he was doing in the kitchen. He was wearing a pair of half
glasses. I placed my beer on the bar and stood at parade rest. He looked up
at me and smiled a warm smile and looked at me briefly.

"Turn around, please." I obeyed immediately and stood at parade rest
again. He wiped his hands with a towel, ran some water over them and
wiped them again. He walked behind me and began to feel the plug in my
ass.

"Push back, please." I pushed back hard with my ass as he firmly held the
plug in place. "Okay, that's good. Did Master Jeb put the restraint on
you?"

"No, Sir, Officer Shaw, Master Jim."

"Does he have the only key?"

"No, Sir, I have one."

"And, why do you have one, Son?"

"Master Jeb gave it to me in case I came to see you and you might wish to
remove it, Officer Shaw. I can't remove it myself, Sir, I was ordered not
to."

"Good, bring me the key, please." I thought it strange he was saying
please to me after each command. I would have done what he asked if he
followed everything with `shit head'.  Saying `please' was in a way kind
of mysterious and ominous. I brought him the key. He unlocked the
restraint and gently lifted it away from me not failing to notice my dick
was getting hard. He sat the harness aside and walked back to the kitchen.

"I've ordered dinner for us. It will be here in a short while. Now, Son, I
don't mean to be so mysterious but believe it or not I am an almost
pathologically shy person and it takes me a while to get up and going with
a person. I'm all right with groups on a social basis or work but I have a
hell of a time one on one until I get to know someone. It's called
monophobia and I've fought it all my life;  however, to see you in the buff
makes it a little easier for me. Beside you seem emanate an empathetic
aura, a warmth that could charm a cobra out of it's fangs."

I just looked into those sad eyes and felt deep pain. Tears came rolling
down my cheeks from the massive hurt I instantly sensed. I swear to
Judas, I was not crying. It was as if his pain was immediately transferred
to my tear ducts. I know, I know, it sounds weird but it happened and I
was embarrassed. What must he think? What the hell was the matter with
me? Surely he would think me nuts and throw me out. He came to me, put
his hand on my shoulder and I followed my heart like Master Jeb told me
to.

"Officer Shaw, I'm so embarrassed. I'm not crying." I said with
unwavering voice. "I don't know what's going on or why the waterworks.
What must you think? Please accept my apology. Please Sir, forgive me."
I looked into his eyes and again sensed the deep emotional pain; my knees
almost buckled.

"Oh, God!" I said in anguish, "Please,  Master, please, Sir, put your arms
around me." He didn't hesitate. He encased me in a bear hug and I slowly
put mine around him.  He held me tightly.

"Am I that strange, Son? Are you frightened of me?"

"No, Office Shaw, not at all. I can't explain it. I'm sorry I slipped and
called you `Master'." He just held me tighter, brushed his lips behind my
ear and tried to calm me, "Sshhhhuu,... it's all right. You're safe. I was
wrong. I forgot your needs. A good Master wouldn't do that. I would be
pleased for you to call me Master if you need to."

"I do, Master, from the bottom of my heart. Not only for me but for you as
well." He looked at me puzzled.

"I accept that. No single man has been to my home in three years. You're
the first and it's meet that you should call me `Master.'   I believe we live
our lives as free agents; however, there are some things we have no
control over.   Just as I had no control over inviting you here tonight. It
was the right thing for us.

We've come together by an unbelievable chance happening orchestrated
by whom or what, I can't say? I don't want to pick it to pieces and
overlook the simple joy of a Master and Slave, who are obviously taken
with each other, coming together. Someone or something saw to it. If it
will help,  I can order you to be comfortable with me." He laughed.

"Please do, Master, I don't mean to be presumptuous but the someone or
something has told me to tell you."

"I'm not sure why but I believe you. Listen to my voice very closely,
slave. You have nothing to fear hear.  You're safe.  You will not feel
uncomfortable nor have any fear of me or our joining this evening. Do you
understand, slave?"

"Yes, Sir, and thank you, Master Earl."

>From that moment, I trusted him, felt comfortable and he opened to me
like a revelation. We talked as he prepared a small salad for us. I offered
to help but he refused. Dinner came, he got me another beer from the
fridge, and we sat down to eat. He had ordered good Italian food and the
salad made it perfect. We talked about everything from my decision to
enter training to how and why he thought he became a Master. He saw the
scars on my body and asked if I would talk about them.

"I prefer not to, but I will if you insist. There's not that much to tell. I was
young, idealistic, believed in my country, went to Nam, got shot and sent
home."

"I'm not looking for cheap thrills from someone's war stories. Your
`someone' or `something' told me to ask. There's much more to your
story, isn't there, Son?"

"Yes, Master, please, but, I beg you, don't ask me to go there this evening.
I keep it tied behind my back pretty tight. It only bothers me in the wee
small hours of the night when I wake up feeling lost and alone. I wake
myself screaming. Of course, everyone has nightmares from time to time."

I said quietly looking down at his boots. He was still dressed in his
uniform with badge and gun.

"May I ask a question, Master?"

"Sure, Son, what is it?"

"When you come home from work, off duty, don't you change into
something comfortable?"

"Usually, but I'm still wearing my uniform for you. You did say you'd
clean my boots for me or did I misunderstand?"

"Oh, God, no, Master,  I meant every word. I can be dense sometime. It's
wonderful. It's every gay man's dream, especially in the  leather crowd to
clean a cop's boots. I never considered you might be keeping your
uniform on for my benefit. I'm... I'm.... I don't know what I want to say.
I'm sorry, usually I'm more together."

"Son, I think we share certain fears. I see myself in you." then he did a
funny Groucho routine to lighten the mood, "Play your cards right or say
the secret word you'll have a lot more of me in you."  we laughed
together, "Seriously, I understand, you're here at my request. You won't
be asked to do anything you don't want to do. I just wanted you to
experience something you might like to take with you from your visit. "
He began to clear the table and I got up and started helping. Walking
behind him to the kitchen I couldn't help get a good look at his police
officer swagger. It was powerful, self assured and intimidating.

"Officer Shaw you have the sexiest walk. When I saw you get off your
bike and walked toward me in my rear view mirror I damn near shot in my
leathers;  not from fear of a ticket but because of the way you walked." He
laughed.

"Oh, you mean like this?" He did an exaggerated parody of his own walk.

"UUUhhhh...." I didn't know if I should laugh or shit in my hat.
"Well,...Yes, Sir, sort of ...." He roared with laughter and I laughed to.

"That's okay, Son, they teach us how to dismount our bikes, take our good
time, and how to `swagger' up to a vehicle. It's all psychological
intimidation."

"Worked for me." I said seriously. He laughed again.

"I've done it for so long it's become part of my natural walk. Any
motorcycle officer can go to another city and spot another motor officer in
civies by the way he walks. It's true. I'm not blowing smoke up your ass.
They actually teach us how to walk that way.   We practice it in motor
school and receive a grade." As Master Jeb said it must be the truth it's
too bizarre not to be.

Officer Shaw was almost as big a man as Master Jeb except not as heavy.
He had a lean powerful body that didn't have an ounce of fat. He looked
liked he worked out two or three times a week. He told me about growing
up on a Louisiana bayou; however, not in a river front shack.  His family
were large property holders and had been since the Civil War.  His father
was a Cajun and his mother a mulatto. Her mother was black but her
father was white Irish. We finished cleaning the kitchen.

"Thanks for the hand. I haven't had someone in the kitchen with me in a
long time. I forgot how pleasant mundane things can be when you have
someone help you with them. Now, you ready to clean my boots, slave?"

"Yes, Sir, and thank you for dinner, Master."

"You're welcome, Son. Wait here for a moment."

I stood at parade rest to wait for him. He was back quickly and had
something in his hands I didn't recognize. When he got closer I noticed it
was a collar with spikes.  He raised it to my throat, placed it around my
neck and tightened it where it was made to come together in the back.

It had a small dog tag on a small `D' ring but I couldn't read the
inscription. When he was satisfied it was tight enough for his liking he
reached in his back pocket and produced a small lock and locked it. In his
other hand he had a dog leash he clipped to the same `D' ring the dog tag
hung from. Then without a word he led me, on the leash, to a bedroom on
the floor below.

He reached under a cabinet and pressed a button. An entire bookcase
swung open to reveal stairs going down to a sub level.  He led me down
the stairs into his dungeon. It was another world. It was arranged like a
library. Everything in it's place. The most remarkable thing about the
room was four,  four by eight panels of one way glass on the wall
overlooking the city.

The view was breathtaking. I tried to imagine playing in this magnificent
room and being able to see that view. Unbelievable! The walls were black.
There were heavy black drapes that could be pulled across the glass panels
and when opened fit in front of a four by eight part of the wall on either
side. The floor had a hard black rubber covering.  Everything in the room
was either black or painted black. It was filled with an aura of mystery,
sensual pain, experience, enlightenment, and release.

He flipped some switches that lit two narrow spots. The blackness
absorbed any ambient light. He led me to the far wall of his dungeon and
climbed into the huge throne like chair. There were two bootblack boot
irons for him to place his boots on.  The two spots aimed at the irons lit his
boots perfectly.

"This is the first time I've set foot in this room in three years." He paused
for a long moment.  "Now Son, make me proud of you. Show me I wasn't
wrong to follow my heart."  God help me, he didn't have to ask twice. I
was on my knees and started to slowly clean his handsome boots with my
tongue. I didn't want to go too fast. I wanted to make this experience last
as long as possible.  I wanted the memory recorded on my brain of
kneeling before this God-like man cleaning his boots. A mental recording
I could playback when I was eighty and get off.

Then for some damned reason my eyes began to water again and
uncontrolled tears began to form and roll down my cheeks. I wasn't
crying. They just came.  Maybe I'm allergic to something in the house.
God, I hope I'm  not developing an allergy to leather. I was again
embarrassed as they dropped on his boots and became mixed with my
saliva.  I was drifting in and out of the reality of my body and felt a
presence all around me.

It wasn't frightening but I was aware of it.  He saw my tears falling on his
boots and said nothing but moved his huge foot within his boot as if to
communicate to me he was with me, around me, above me, under me, for
me, understanding, surrounding my spirit with his strength, authority,
approval and affection. We were caught up in the ecstacy and poignancy
of the moment. It was like two wounded, partial souls conjoined to form a
single purpose.

My spirit fed like a starving child on his affection, strength, and control.
He needed my acceptance, my understanding, my trust and my
submission. I thought at the moment, `This man may be the reason I was
born.' The walls of individual separation were pulled down.

He was ready in that moment to use me to find the resolve, the peace we
both desperately needed. He knew he didn't need my permission. I must
have sucked, licked, and cleaned those boots for an hour or more.   He
finally broke into my cleaning mantra to claim I  returned his favor and he
was satisfied.  Officer Shaw, Master Earl,  was now ready to use me for
his pleasure and take advantage of our separate needs. My need to give
and his need to take.

He got down from the chair and slowly put his arms around me and held
me close for a long time. I began to feel his tears drop on my shoulder and
back. I held him tighter as his body shook and heaved. He didn't have to
speak his pain. I knew as it flooded into me. He was in catharsis. We were
passing through uncharted lands, two adult children, walking hand in hand
without fear, knowing they must pass this way to find themselves at
healing's door. Time passed, he composed himself and he looked down at
me.

"I'm going to do something I wanted to do that day I pulled you over on
the lake and you blurted out your request to clean my boots."  he said softly to me.

Officer Shaw,  kissed me gently but firmly as if to pass a message that he
was now in full control, would be using me as he saw fit and should not be
questioned. I kissed him back only enough to let him know I accepted his
lead and trusted him to take us across any forbidden land. He stopped and
moved his head to rest on top of mine and hugged my head to his breast.

"I'm going to secure you and go upstairs to change. I'll bring your boots
and leathers down to you.  You will put them on as I sit in my chair and
watch."  he ordered.

Officer Shaw went to a wall in the playroom and selected a pair of heavily
lined wrist and ankle restraints. He led me with his leash in front of the
panoramic windows.

He attached one wrist to a chain strung across the ceiling. He equally
spaced the restraints on the chain. My arms were stretched until I was on
my toes. My ankles were secured, stretched apart, by a four foot piece of
galvanized pipe. I was stretched in all four directions just to the point of
discomfort.

Officer Shaw went back to the wall where his equipment hung and
returned.  He moved his body close to me, pressing against mine
suggestively. He began to lightly rub my body from the legs to my chest
enjoying the feel of my helplessness. I was falling into his control. He
leaned his head in toward the side of my head and brushed his thick
mustache behind my left ear as he held a three inch long, leather mouth
plug in front of my face for me to see. He drew it close to my mouth.

"Kiss it, slave! Show me how much you appreciate my control by
depriving you of one of your senses." He whispered softly. He had me. I
was hooked. He was inviting me into his world to control me, to use me,
to play with me as his toy and I was ready.  By kissing the mouth plug I
would give him my conscious consent to become his slave for the evening.
I trusted him. I didn't hesitate to follow his command and kissed the plug
like a man possessed with a passion to show him that trust.

"Open your mouth, slave!" I obeyed and hung there for several minutes as
he walked around me admiring his handy work. "Keep your mouth open,
slave....that's right.... a little wider please,....good." In one swift movement
he placed the leather plug in my mouth and ordered me to let it lay there
for a moment. He moved behind me again and ordered me to close my
mouth around the plug and make it comfortable.

He securely fastened the strap behind my head and it was locked in tight.
Officer Shaw moved around in front where I could see him. He looked
into my eyes and told me not to try to answer anything he might say even
if he asked a question.  He explained when he plugged a slave's skull
pussy it was to remain silent.

He looked into my eyes for the longest time, walked slowly up to me and
began to feel my body like a man would examine a fine horse he was
considering buying. His touch was transformed into magic. A  police
officer in full uniform gently caressing and feeling my body like he was
trying to pick the ripest melon from a produce stand.

* * * * * * * *

"I'll return in a minute."  he spoke softly.

He walked up the stairs and I was alone, secured in his dungeon, in front
of a panoramic view of the skyline and lights of downtown area of Los
Angeles. I was uncomfortable but in no pain or sever discomfort. I hung
there for about fifteen minutes until I heard heavy boots on the stairs and
could see in the reflection of the windows his fully leathered shape
descending the stairs. He held my leathers in his arms, sat them down and
walked to stand in front of me.

Officer Shaw was no longer Officer Shaw he was transformed to Master
Earl.  A man that was born to wear leather. To say he was hot was an
understatement.  Leather pants with a huge well stuffed cod piece.
Studded belt. Wesco engineer boots with triple vibram soles. Leather vest
open in the front and a Master's leather hat.  He held a long leather whip
in his hands.

"You've never been whipped before, have you, slave?" I started to answer
but remembered his order about a silent plugged mouth.

"Good slave, you learn fast. Don't answer. I have all the answers you need
this evening."  He sat the whip on a shelf and began to undo my restraints.

"Put your leathers on and if you need to use the head do it now. You may
not have another chance for a while. If you must go later you will wear a
catheter."

I dressed quickly. My boots were the last thing I put on. They were knee
high lace up White's. The same as my dad's. Like dad, like son. When I
finished I stood at parade  rest, arms behind my back. He stood on the dias
in front of the large black chair. The two spots lit his cod piece.

"Come here, kneel, and place your open hands, palms up on the dais." I
moved swiftly and knelt in front of him and placed my hands between his
boots on the dais.

"You won't  feel any pain, slave."

He moved first one heavy boot to cover one hand, shifted his weight then
moved the other to cover the other hand. He was standing full weight on
my hands. There was no pain. Not even discomfort.  It was a trick I
learned later that shifted most of his weight onto the heels of his boots but
it impressed the shit out of me at the time.

"This is a symbol of your place within our passage this evening.  As you
have trusted me to  place  your hands beneath my boots so will you trust
me in all things.  With trust and humility, you will join me in passage to a
world we will make for ourselves.  You must trust me to lead you through
the darkness into the light of self understanding with strength, knowledge
and passion."

I was deeply moved and wowed by his words and his pledge to me. I knew
this man was different but as sensitive as I might be to read people I had
no idea of his depth. He wasn't joking.  He was deadly serious. He wasn't
going to let me play at being his slave for the evening;  I was his to be his
slave. It was the strongest feeling of bonding or belonging I'd experienced
in life. My usual analytic brain program refused to run.  It was replaced
with a new program. A program that told me I was free to trust and follow.

He moved off my hands and I immediately wanted him to stand on them
again. He squatted on his haunches, knees spread for balance, arms
resting on his legs, slowly dropped his right hand toward me with his palm
up.  My leash was hanging from my collar and lay on the dais. There was
no question in my mind as to his purpose. I immediately moved my head
to the dais, caught the end of my leash in my mouth, and gently placed it
in his waiting hand.

He slowly closed his hand around it and placed his other hand on my head,
rubbed and patted it as he might a favorite pet. He reached to his back
pocket and produced my mouth plug he had taken out when he released
me from my chains. He simply held it about half way between us and
waited. I had no question what he wanted. I moved my mouth toward it
and began to kiss it. He moved it around so I could cover all surfaces with
my kisses.

He made a slight signal as you might signal a well trained sheep dog. He
took one finger and made a small up and down movement and I
immediately started to pump and suck the black leather plug as if it were a
cock, his symbolic cock, that I would be wearing. His final signal was one
slight movement down with his finger then he clamped his thumb and
forefinger together. I took the plug in my mouth and clamped my teeth
lightly around it. I held it as he secured it tightly behind my head.

Where Master Earl led, I would follow without question. He led me by the
leash to a large black tiled shower area that had a small, black leather,
covered rectangular table about two feet by four feet. The bed/table stood
about four feet off the floor. It was thickly padded and had a hole at one
end approximately ten inches in diameter. Another hole about three inches
in diameter was at the opposite end. There were wooden dowel pegs
across the end where the small hole was.

He signaled me to lay down on the pad. It became clear as my head lay in
the large hole flat with the opening so I could breathe unobstructed and
my cock and balls fit through the smaller hole. It fit me perfectly. How
could that be? Did he ask Master Jeb for my measurements? He reached
down and raised one of my boots and placed it on the peg. I placed the
other on the other side.

My knees were on either side of the table and my boots on the pegs spread
my ass to a perfect position for his access.  He flipped something near my
shoulders under the table and two more pegs popped up. He placed one of
my hands on one peg and I followed with the other. It was a smaller dowel
covered with leather. I could put my hands around the dowel like you'd
wrap your hand around a bike's throttle.

Master Earl threw a strap over my upper body and pulled it tight securing
it to the other side. He threw one over my waist just above my butt. He
attached the leg cuffs around my boots to eye bolts near the foot pegs with
spring return clip fasteners. He did the same with my hands. He left me
there for a while to orient myself.

I felt Master Earl place his hands on my butt and rubbed both cheeks for a
few minutes. Damn, his hand felt good. I knew he was letting me know he
was going to do something with my ass. Sure enough, he removed my
plug with one swift movement. He placed a small amount of lube on my
sphincter and began to insert his plug. I pushed back and up to help.

He gently pushed my butt down and held it down for a moment. He didn't
want me raising my ass and I obeyed. He was a Master. He worked my ass
with his plug and would almost put it in but would hold back at the last
minute.

By the time he decided to pop it in my hole was so stretched and relaxed it
felt like it had been there forever. The largest part of his plug was slightly
larger than my usual plug but the diameter at the base was much smaller.
My sphincter could clamp tighter on it. I felt him push on it and raised my
ass and pushed back so he could seat the plug properly.

Satisfied he moved to my head and lightly tapped on the back. I raised my
head from the table and he slipped a leather hood over it. When he had
adjusted the face as he wanted he gently applied pressure on the back of
my head and I returned my face to the hole.

I could feel him working as he tightly laced the full hood from the top of
my head to the base of my neck. It fit perfectly. It was snug but not
uncomfortable with plenty of room for my nose and mouth. It was hot and
my unrestricted cock grew erect, straight down from the bed. He put his
hand on my back near my ass and spoke softly.

"Let me see you use your ass to fuck my plug."  I raised my ass as much
as possible and started sucking and fucking his plug like it was an oil rig
piston. It flashed in my mind, I was in exactly the same position on my
bike with the other plug up my butt going around the lake.

"That's fine, Son, you're  ready now." I had no idea for what but I
couldn't wait to find out.  Master Earl undid the straps on his work table
and held his hand on the small of my back.

"Before I let you to get up there's something you need to know for your
safety. This plug is a little different than the other. It has an eye bolt
sticking out from the base, so you can't sit down.  When I let you up move
to the back of the table and push yourself to a standing position and hit
parade rest."

He let his hand off my back and told me to get up. I obeyed and followed
his instructions. I stood at parade rest.  He took my leash and led me to the
same spot he secured me before. As I stood there looking at the view he
moved behind me and brought a heavy leather patch that snapped over my
eyes on the hood. I couldn't see. I couldn't speak.

His control over me was increasing but I felt no fear. I heard him moving
about. He put up a one and a half inch pipe that ran in front of me and
secured to two four by fours on either side. He moved me slightly forward
until I felt the cold metal across my belly near my navel. Next he secured
each arm restraint to an eye bolt in the ceiling which pulled me forward
with my arms slung out and forward from my body.

The metal pipe kept me from falling forward. I sensed there were springs
on the end of the chains because they seem to give a bit. He secured my
ankle restraints to a shorter pipe than he had before. My feet were closer
together so I could stand fairly steady with my boots forced apart
approximately three feet.

Not for long. He fitted a heavy leather belt around my waste and buckled
it tight in the back. There were `D' rings on each side of the belt. He
connected chains to these rings and ran them up and behind me to eye
hooks in the ceiling. They, too,  had some give and must have had heavy
springs on the ends. He moved in front of me and attached a chain to the
bar separating my feet and pulled them upwards, to the sides and slightly
forward so I was just off balance.

The bar caught me in the front and the chains attached to the belt kept my
ass up and back. He moved behind me and I felt him attach a chain with a
snap hook to the eye bolt sticking out of my plug.  Master Earl then ran it
to an eye-bolt on the floor. I sensed there was a spring on the other end of
this chain too.

I didn't have a clue what my Master was going to do next. He simply
removed the heavy pipe holding me across the waste and I floated free in
my chains slightly off balance. My ass was raised above my back. The
springs were perfectly balanced so that I had a feeling of floating. I had to
clamp my ass tight around the plug to keep it anchored in place.

Remember the old Navy saying, "You don't have an anchor tied to your
ass?" Meaning take your best shot or there's nothing holding you back.   I
literally had an anchor in my butt. The man had a unique sense of design.
This arrangement worked perfectly for his purpose. He walked in front of
me and held my head in his arms and held me close.

"The object of our time together this evening is to teach you the necessity
of control. Control over your physical self while allowing me the control I
need.  It will become clear to you in a few minutes. I am going to whip
you with a four foot soft leather flogging whip. It has about twenty narrow
strips of leather bundled together in the handle so that each small strip can
move independently.  When used to whip someone they effectively work
in consort.

I'll start slowly and not too hard so you can begin to get the feel of your
position and how best to control it's relationship to my stimulus. Under no
circumstance are you to allow my plug to be pulled out of your ass. If it
happens it will only add to your time being whipped. You know you won't
let me down." He was still holding my head tenderly in one arm and
running his other hand down my back. His touch was electric.

"Do you remember when you were a kid, your dad took off his belt and
told you what he was about to do was going to hurt him more than you?
You didn't believe that shit did you?  he  asked rhetorically.

"Okay slave, let's begin."

I'd never felt a large whip across my ass before. I remembered the light
playful flogging Master Jim gave me while I cleaned his boots. It was
wonderfully stimulating and sensual. I had apprehensions about this but
the roller coaster all ready climbed the ramp and was about to plunge
down the other side.

To late to yell, `King's X!' I prayed that I would have the strength and
courage to get through this. Master Earl  moved behind me and was
rubbing my ass with his hands and the whip. He put on a pair of leather
riding gloves and they felt good against my skin. He was conditioning me
to the feel of the whip.




Part V ~ A Leap of Faith

"Come ye daughters, share my anguish!"
Opening chorus~St. Matthew Passion
J. S. Bach

Master Earl began our journey. His first fifteen to twenty strokes with his
whip were bearable. He was accurate in his description about what to
expect and my response. It was a natural reflex for me to move forward
with the impact of the whip. I would be propelled forward by the force and
my instinctive response to move away from discomfort. I would feel the
plug in my ass stop my forward motion but my ass muscle was strong
from wearing the other plug for over a week.

I was doing all right. I was amazed at the elegance of Master Earl's
design. The springs would return me immediately to position ready for
another application of his strength. I found that I could raise my ass just a
little higher for him to get his best shot. The strength and frequency of his
blows began to increase.

I worked hard at keeping the plug in my ass and was managing. The
concern for holding the plug in my ass took the attention away from any
pain I might be feeling; don't ever believe anyone that might tell you they
didn't feel a thing. It hurt like hell. I was almost ready to mumble for him
to let up for a while when he stopped.

I had no  emotions while he was whipping me but now he walked behind
me and began to gently rub my stinging butt. His touch was concerned,
soothing, and comforting. I began to sob as if my heart would break. He
continued kneading my ass and soon there was no hurt and only the sexual
sensuality of his caresses. I was still a blubbering idiot.

He moved around to my front and gently took my hooded head in his arms
and began to soothe me. He didn't chastise me for my emotions. On the
contrary, he encouraged me to let it out, give it to him, and let him take it
away as a means to cleanse my heart.

This man took me to the brink of physical pain. Why didn't I want to kill
the son of a bitch? Instead, if I had been free, I would fall  to his feet and
thanked him again and again. Something happened. I was not the same
person that entered his dungeon some time ago.

My concepts of belonging, pain, desire, creation, affection, dominance,
submission, strength and honor were scrambled and being rearranged in
importance in my brain. I actually felt a little better. Unless you've
experienced it, you can't possibly understand. Some American Indian
tribes endured physical pain as a right of passage. They describe it in a
similar same way. A release of mental anguish and stagnant emotions.

"We're half way thorough our journey, my brave slave. I'm pleased with
you. I've never had a first timer get this far without either losing the plug
or begging to stop."  I don't wonder. I'm not overly brave but I do seem to
be able to bear a great deal of pain.

I have blue eyes. What's that got to do with pain? The Nazis did pain
endurance studies and the only piece of information of any importance
was that people with blue eyes can stand more pain than brown-eyed
people. Master Earl continued to console me. I began to get a grip on
myself and wondered if I might talk him into a rain check on the second
half. How could I? My mouth was tightly plugged and I knew he wouldn't
acknowledge me anyway.

I remembered the old roller coasters that always took you around twice.
After having the shit scared out of me as a kid I was ready to disembark
after the first run and then, "Oh no! Oh, my God!" You heard it hit the
cogs to take you slowly up the steep ramp for the second drop. As the
bottom dropped out from under you I prayed my ass wouldn't do the
same.

Master Earl started in again. There was no warm up period. He
immediately launched into an assault on my ass almost where he left off.
What was happening? I felt the intensity, harder and faster but I was
beginning to hurt less and less. I had no problem with the plug. I had it
locked in and suddenly felt powerful against the onslaught. I felt
lightheaded and my mind began to drift. I was aware of the whip but I was
beginning to feel unattached as if I was looking at it as an indifferent
observer.

`Ah, yes, the queer slave. How fortunate for him, his Master's flogging
him. Oh, well, he's probably been a good slave and deserves his Master's
attention. Come, let's move along.'

I suddenly let go. I felt release.  I shot my load.  I didn't just come it
felt like my guts were being extruded through my penis, falling out of my
body onto the dungeon floor.

That's the last thing I remembered. The next thing I knew I was laying
completely nude, no leather, no plug, no pain, in the arms of the most
handsome male angel. He was whispering wonderfully nasty, obscene, and
arousing things he was going to do to my body. I was so relaxed and
comfortable I had a hard time adjusting to reality. At first, I thought it
was Master Earl holding me?

`Oh, hello, Master Earl,' I thought, `did I tell you I think you're an
angel.'  No wait, that doesn't make sense. The cobwebs were temporarily
swept away and I remembered.

"Oh, Master Earl, I'm so sorry."

"For what, slave?"

"I let you down. I lost your plug. It's not in my ass anymore."

"You didn't lose the plug. I removed it and even then I thought I was going
to have to get the jaws of life to get it out of you. You weren't going to
let go. I finally talked you out of it or I don't think I'd ever gotten it
out." He threw back his handsome head and laughed proudly. "I've never
encountered a more determined ass.  No pun intended.

Do you  have any idea how special you are?"  I didn't say anything. Why
couldn't I remember?  Was he making this up to spare my feelings? Why
did I feel like I had a huge weight lifted from me? Oh, shut up and bathe
in the warmth of this angel who speaks like Master Earl.   For an angel he
really knew some nasty things to say about what he was going to do to me.

"You frightened me for a minute, slave." I didn't respond. "You went
somewhere I was not expecting and I'm not sure where it was. You were
carrying on a conversation with someone and it was getting emotional on
your end. By the time I removed your mouth plug you were coming back
to this reality. It may seem foggy to you now but you stayed by my side
for the entire journey and I'm proud of you." He raised my face to his and
gently kissed me. The beautiful man angel kissed me. Kissed by an angel.
Maybe I am special? Then my eyes looked down.

`Holy shit!' I thought, `This angel has the second biggest cock I've ever
seen. Wait a minute, do angels have dicks?'

God only knows.



End Chapter 4~
The Ties That Bind
Copyright 2003 Waddie Greywolf
Mail to: <waddiebear@yahoo.com>
Visit Web Site: http://www.asstr.org/~Waddie_Greywolf