Date: Sun, 8 Apr 2012 15:52:28 -0700 (PDT)
From: jdr <daiuyrau@yahoo.com>
Subject: Chapter 8, With a Flip of a Coin

     Jeff knew from his talk with the Colonel that Saturday would be
critical to keeping Sam in his place.  That is why the Colonel wisely
required the two students to keep their schedules clear all the way from
Friday night's coin toss until Sunday morning.  Jeff deliberately set his
alarm for only four hours of sleep.  He awoke refreshed and raring to go.

     Sam, meanwhile, was more passed out than asleep.  His exhausted body
and brain were barely beginning to recover from last night's seemingly
endless ordeal when he vaguely felt it starting all over again.  He slowly
emerged from the fog as something long and with a soft surface passed
between his lips and wedged between his tongue and palate.  Hands firmly
held the back of his head, forcing it forward and back, forward and back.
He could not see, there was no sound, the thing (whatever it was) blocked
all taste and smell, and he could only feel the chain (swinging forward and
back around his neck) and that thing in his mouth.  He went with the flow,
following the rhythm, naturally shaping his tongue to fit the long soft
(but now hardening) object running up and down its length within his mouth.
Confusion gave way to dismay.  He was sucking a cock!

     One of the hands kept his head steadily rocking forward and back while
the other hand gripped him under his lower armpit and pulled his upper body
upward.  The body behind the cock rose in sync with his own torso until he
was on his knees (spread wide to compensate for his ankles being tied
together), hands tied behind his back, with him wearing a blindfold but
knowing exactly what was taking place.  Jeff, his best friend, his
roommate, his Master, was fucking his face and there was nothing he could
do about it for now.  The thought was so disconcerting that Sam momentarily
let his jaw close, scraping his teeth against Jeff's cock.

     "No teeth, slave!" were the first words Sam heard that day.  "Any more
teeth and it'll be worse than you can imagine."  He needed no second
warning, opening his jaws while clamping harder with his tongue.  The
pushing forward and back became faster, harder, more urgent until with a
groan Jeff unleashed his sperm into Sam's trapped mouth and down his
throat.  Sam had no choice but to swallow, which he did.

     "At least now I can relax and breathe easy," Sam thought, waiting for
his Master's cock to withdraw from his mouth.  Instead, it stayed in place
while softening.

     "Remember, slave," he heard Jeff state harshly, "you have to lie on
this mattress every night.  If I were you, which thank God I am not, I
wouldn't spill a drop of piss on this pad."  And with that Jeff let loose
with his morning piss, fast and ferociously.  Sam swallowed and swallowed
as quickly as he could but the piss overwhelmed his mouth and flowed out
through his lips.  To make things worse, Sam gagged.  His throat
involuntarily clamped shut and the piss jetted out, spewing everywhere.

     "Fucking asshole slave!" bellowed Jeff, "you spilled my piss all over
me!  Lick it up and swallow it, shithead!"  Both hands behind his head
smashed his face into Jeff's abs.  He managed to empty his mouth by
drinking its contents, then started lapping up all the liquid his blind
tongue encountered all the way to Jeff's feet.  As Sam tongue-worshiped
them, he could feel with his chin that his mattress was sopping wet with
piss.

     That did it for Sam.  He broke completely.  Tears wet the t-shirt
blindfold.  Sobs wracked his body.  There was no escape from, and no
denying, what he had become.  What he was.  What he always would be.  A
slave.  A slave with a chain locked around his neck.  A slave who would
have to sleep naked every night on a bare stinking piss-stained mattress.
A slave who would wake up every morning to his Master's wants and demands.
A slave who would spend every day doing whatever his Master desired.

     Standing above his conquest, keeping his feet out of the piss puddles,
Jeff felt no guilt, no remorse, no regret.  He felt triumphant, gleeful,
fulfilled; in a word, masterful.  "By God, it really works," he thought,
"Sam is now my permanent slave!"  But that is not what he said out loud.
When he spoke, it was with the stern tone of command.

     "You owe me an apology for getting piss on me, slave, let's hear it."

     Sam did not hesitate.  Without thinking he started blubbering.
"Please, Master, please, I'm sorry, Master, please, I'm sorry I got piss on
you, Master, please, I'm sorry, Master, please."  And so on without pause
until Jeff clamped a hand over Sam's mouth just to shut him up.  Once Sam
did so, Jeff untied the three t-shirts.  For the first time since falling
asleep Sam was free of all restraints, but with two overriding exceptions.
One was the heavy steel chain padlocked around his neck.  The other, far
more inescapable, was his mindset.  He could no more stand up now and talk
back to Jeff than he could sprout wings and fly.

     Wordlessly, Jeff stepped over the kneeling cowboy and strode into the
bathroom.  Wordlessly, Sam crawled behind.  When the slave arrived he found
his Master sitting on the toilet taking a dump.  Once that finished, Jeff
wiped himself, flushed the toilet, stood up, then lifted the toilet seat
and lid, pointed to the bare porcelain rim and said, "Your turn, slave.
Get up here."  Sam obediently rose up and sat on the toilet rim.  He tried
to evacuate a stool but only liquid came out, most of it Jeff's two sperm
loads from the night before.  Sam wiped himself clean, then looked to his
Master for guidance.

     "Kneeling display," Jeff commanded, "on your knees, hands behind your
head, chin up, eyes forward, and remember this position whenever I say
'kneeling display,' slave."

     "Yes, Master," said the compliant cowboy as he assumed the position.

     Jeff reached into the medicine cabinet, withdrew a tube of antibiotic
creme, squirted a small amount on his fingers, and rubbed it into the
slave's shaved armpits.  He next reached down and rubbed more on the
slave's shaved crotch.  The bathroom business being out of the way, Jeff
turned and headed for the kitchen, his slave obediently crawling behind.
There Jeff commanded, "Standing display, slave, standing up, feet shoulder
width apart, hands behind your head, eyes on me."

     Sam immediately obeyed.  Jeff then explained precisely how he expected
the slaveboy to make his Master's coffee every morning, making it clear
that Sam would go without.  Jeff then went over breakfast preparations,
where Sam would kneel while Jeff sat at the table, what bowls would be for
Sam's food and water, how he would eat with his hands clasped behind his
back, and so forth.  Sam carried out all the orders, first brewing and
serving coffee, then cooking a hot breakfast for Jeff while pouring cold
cereal for himself, then eating at his Master's feet, then cleaning the
kitchen and reporting back in the Kneeling Slave position, head and eyes
down, hands behind his back.

     For the rest of the day and into the night, Jeff put Sam through all
his paces.  There was television time, with Jeff watching his favorite
teams while Sam knelt at his feet, his back to the screen, fetching a beer
whenever Jeff commanded.  By the end of the game Sam had become a
blindfolded earplugged footstool for his Master's booted feet.

     There were punishment sessions, with the belt, with Jeff's bare hand,
with the kitchen spatula, with a copper bristled brush from the toolbox.

     There were bondage sessions, with Sam tied sitting in a chair, with
Sam tied spreadeagle to Jeff's bed, with Sam hogtied and left on the floor.

     There were more punishment sessions, with Sam tied standing
spreadeagle with his back against his vertical bed frame while Jeff
attached clothespins to his body, then removed them, then attached them
again.

     And there were sex sessions.  Jeff fucked Sam's ass.  Jeff fucked
Sam's face.  Jeff put on latex gloves and fingered Sam.  Jeff even let Sam
cum with a hand job from his Master while tied to the bed, the first time
Sam got to shoot intentionally since they had emailed the Colonel several
days before.

     But more than anything else, there were training sessions, rules to
learn, protocols to follow, obedience to be shown.  Several times Sam
forgot what to do and received a hard face slap for his pains.  By the end
of the evening, Sam had it all down pat.  Jeff was clearly in charge and
Sam was under control.

     Jeff ended Saturday night by having Sam give him a full body massage
for over an hour, followed by the slave's best blowjob to date and
culminating in a three-position fuck, first from the back door, then with
Sam sitting on his Master's cock and finally with Sam on his back on Jeff's
bed, his calves draped over his Master's shoulders while Jeff longstroked
him and fed saliva into Sam's willingly open mouth.  With great
satisfaction Jeff pulled out, rolled over, sent his slave to his own
bedroom and fell asleep with a smile on his face.  And, hard to believe but
nonetheless true, so did Sam.

     Sunday was a transition day.  In obedience to Jeff's last order the
night before, Sam woke up on his own, crawled to the kitchen, brewed the
coffee, poured a cup, then carried it into Jeff's bedroom.  There Sam
slowly woke his Master up by way of a long hands-free blowjob, followed by
Sam taking all his Master's piss without spillage.  Then Sam gave Jeff a
shower as previously taught, followed by a shaving session (Jeff shaving
his own face, then shaving Sam's face, pits and crotch).  After breakfast,
Jeff ordered Sam into study mode, allowing him to sit at his bedroom desk
(naked, of course, except for the chain collar) and complete all his
weekend class assignments.  Sam finished with his classwork first,
resulting in him kneeling under Jeff's desk and sucking Jeff's cock while
Jeff completed his schoolwork.

     Monday, Jeff shoved Sam down another notch, this time by removing the
slave's cowboy boots and boot socks, forcing him to wear only sneakers for
the rest of the school year.  At least Jeff unlocked the chain collar so
Sam would not have to wear it to class.  Of course, Sam had to snap it back
on himself as soon as he got home and stripped naked.

     Later that week, items that Jeff had ordered online (with Sam's credit
cards) started arriving.  They included leather wrist and ankle cuffs,
which Sam had to wear at all times at home except when showering.  They
also included a heavy sterling silver chain in a cable link pattern that
Jeff had ordered from a talented lesbian gothic jeweler in Philadelphia.
This became Sam's outside collar, which he wore to classes, the gym and
anywhere else outside the shared home.

     The boys continued to be gym buddies, with no discernable difference
between them when working out.  In fact, Jeff insisted that Sam push him
just as hard as he always had.  The results were twofold: Sam eagerly
looked forward to his two hours of gym freedom; and both cowboys worked
themselves into even better physical shape.

     Days went by, then weeks, then months.  Sam more and more became a
true slave until he could not even remember what freedom had been like.
Jeff more and more became a true Master until owning Sam was as natural as
breathing.  They went hunting together, they went home together for
Thanksgiving and for the holidays, they spent weekends together riding
their snowboards at Snowy or Steamboat, to all outward appearances they
were still the best friends they had always been.  That, however, was no
longer the case.  Sam never forgot that Jeff owned him, and neither did
Jeff.

     One warm spring Friday, the kind of weather that comes to Laramie for
a few days in a row only to be buried by weeks of more snow, Sam came home
to a shocking surprise.  H opened the outer door as always, walked down the
stairs as always, unlocked and opened the downstairs door as always, closed
it behind him and turned around, preparing to strip, kneel and collar
himself.  Instead, when he turned around after closing the lower door,
there was Jeff, standing in front of him with a big smile and a strange
command: "Don't strip, Sam."

     "Yes, Master," replied the puzzled cowboy.

     "Don't call me Master either, Sam."

     At this point Sam was really confused, but he responded "Yes, Maste
... uh, what do I call you if I don't call you 'Master'?"

     Jeff smiled.  "Just call me Jeff."

     "Yes, Jeff," Sam said, but unconvinced.

     Jeff's next statements really confused Sam.  "Take off the silver
necklace, Sam, but don't go get the chain collar and don't strip or kneel.
From now on you are not a slave.  You are just Sam."

     Jeff gently guided his befuddled roommate to the couch, where they sat
side by side.  He explained to Sam that he was releasing Sam from slavehood
for the rest of the school year.  They would just go back to being
roommates, but with one condition: if Sam ever asked to be re-enslaved,
Jeff would agree -- but it would be forever, with no second grant of
freedom and no second dare.

     Sam listened carefully but uncomfortably, unable to relax while
sitting when he should be kneeling on the floor, paying attention to Jeff
but panicking inside.

     When Jeff finished explaining all the changes, Sam said nothing.  He
stood up (which in itself felt weird), removed the necklace, handed it to
Jeff, then walked into his room.  Jeff sat on the couch, wondering if his
ploy would work.  And work it did.

     Within two minutes, a naked Sam came crawling out of his room, holding
the steel chain in his mouth, the open padlock dangling from one end.  He
crawled between Jeff's legs, looked up into Jeff's eyes and removed the
chain from his mouth.  Without breaking eye contact, Sam draped the chain
around his own neck, snapped the padlock shut connecting both ends, put his
hands behind his back and said,

     "Jeff, you are my best friend.  You have always been there for me.  I
have always counted on you having my back.  I have thought this through
carefully and completely.  There is only one thing that I want in life,
only one way that I can be happy.  You are my Master.  I am your slave.  I
belong to you, Master Jeff, if you will let me.  Please, Master, please let
me always be your slave."

     Jeff looked down on Sam and the pleading look in Sam's eyes.  He
smiled, knowing it all went just as he planned.  He bent down, put a hand
under Sam's chin and raised it, then used the other hand to pinch Sam's
nostrils shut.  When Sam reflexively opened his mouth, Jeff spat a wad into
it then for the first time ever bent further down and gave Sam a long
passionate kiss.  He withdrew his tongue, raised his head back up, gazed
into Sam's adoring eyes and slapped Sam so hard across the face that the
slave fell over.  When he returned to his kneeling position, Jeff was
grinning from ear to ear.

     "Welcome to your life, slave," said Jeff, and they both joined in a
smile that turned into a laugh that turned into the best sex they had ever
had, the kind that only a Master can have with his slave.  And all because
of the flip of a coin.

     THE END

     All chapters of "With the Flip of a Coin" are copyright 2012 by the
author, subject to Nifty's non-exclusive, worldwide, royalty-free,
perpetual, and non-cancellable license to display the work.  My thanks to
Nifty and also to the readers who wrote me with their comments and
suggestions.

     My next story will appear in Gay Authoritarian and Gay Military.  It
will tell what the Colonel did to the buck sergeant who briefly appeared in
Chapter 6 of this series.

     This storyline is a work of fiction.  It is based on my experiences
over the years as a Military Master.  I make no warranty about the
techniques used but, properly done, they usually work effectively.  All of
the events I describe have happened under my direction and control at one
time or another.

     Jeff and Sam are fictional characters, but I know for a fact that
there are people just like them looking for just what they found.  The
Colonel is also a fictional character but based to a large degree on
myself.  One difference bwtween the Colonel and myself is that he made a
career in the Army and rose to the rank of Colonel while I rose to the rank
of Captain and then left the Army for a civilian career.

     This storyline has no connection with the University of Wyoming other
than the setting in Laramie.  It is a beautiful town with lots of
basements, including the one in my home.