Date: Fri, 17 Jul 1998 18:46:31 -1000
From: John Clark <janc55@hgea.org>
Subject: Jocksucker, Ch. 12

Chapter 12

	Bobby yawned and knuckled the sleep out of his eyes. He'd been
waiting for several hours in the cab of the u-haul van.  Now morning
traffic was picking up.  His watch said 6:15.  He thought it'd been about
three-thirty or a quarter to four when he'd last checked the time.  He'd
meant to keep watch, not fall asleep.  But it was still plenty early, so it
should be all right.  He shook his thermos, grunted in satisfaction and
poured himself another cup of coffee.  His hands shook a little, but he'd
be surprised if they didn't.  What a night!  They'd stayed at the HardTop
'til a little after midnight.  It wasn't the night-out that Tom Carlisle
had had in mind when he'd tried to reserve the playroom, nor was it what
either Tom or Bobby had wished for.  But it turned out to be quite a time,
anyway.  Yeah, quite a time.  Mr. Carlisle - Bobby didn't figure he'd ever
end up calling him 'Tom', except in his private thoughts - might not have
it in mind to become Bobby's Master, but he sure as hell knew how to do the
job!  With Bobby watching and assisting, Mr. Carlisle had begun the
re-education of Jason Twill.
	First, he'd unpacked a set of leathers.  He shared the rig with
Bobby, and they both looked the part of bestial executioners.  Their
outfits alone had brought a look of fear to Twill's face, though he himself
had worn worse in his time.  The shoe was on the other foot, now, though.
Then, quietly and methodically Carlisle had proceeded to break Twill's
spirit.  He didn't do it with overdoses of pain, either, Bobby saw.  If
anything he used underdoses.  He made precisely timed nips and tweaks do
what spanking and whipping would have taken far longer to accomplish.  And
the words he used, when he rarely did speak, were perfectly chosen for
maximum effect.  In the end, Twill was hanging, limp, tears mixed with snot
running down his face, his arrogance completely obliterated.
	Then, with incredible patience, Carlisle rebuilt the young man.  In
slightly over three hours, Jason Twill had been emptied of much of his old
persona, and had a solid start at a new one.  When they ended the session,
Twill was a chastened man who meekly requested the privilege of wearing the
same butt plug he'd used earlier on Ion.  He would not remove it.  His
Master would do so at their next meeting, the following evening.  He was
instructed to attend all of his regularly scheduled classes, to do nothing
out of the ordinary, except to exercise great care in sitting!  Also in
squatting, walking, and breathing.  Bobby couldn't believe the difference
in the man.  He even showed respectful deference to Bobby, as though their
positions had never been reversed.
	Interesting enough, in all the activities in the playroom last
night, only Twill had had any sexual release.  It had been part of his
training.  Bobby didn't mind.  Although it had been hard to keep his eyes
off Carlisle's hairy, muscular frame as he went through his paces, and it'd
been impossible to keep from wanting the older man, he knew that restraint
was part of his training.  When the time was right, the mentor would know.
And the rewards would be richer for the wait.  Meantime he could dream.
	Light enough to read.  He took out a paperback mystery.
	Nearly an hour passed, then the front door of the house opened and
Dak Rollins stepped out, followed, as Bobby had hoped, by Ion Tadescu.  So
far his plan was going well.  Now for the test...


	Dak and Ion, dressed for a morning run, stopped as they saw Bobby
Shale stepping out of the van parked in front of Dak's house.  He seemed to
brace himself, then came toward them.
	"Good morning."
	"Morning," Dak said.  Ion nodded, hesitantly.
	"Please, could I ask you a question?  I know it's forward of me,
but I have a reason.  Mr. Tadescu, do you by any chance plan to move in
with Mr. Rollins?"
	"You're right, that is pretty forward of you," Dak said.  "Also,
none of your business."
	"It's okay, Dak.  Yes, Mr. Shale.  I have decided to move my
belongings.  Under the circumstances I do not wish to go back to my old
room."
	A wide smile broke over Bobby's face.  "Great!  Here's your
things," he said, waving at the van.
	"What the hell?!?"  Dak said.
	"Mr. Rollins, I'm responsible for what happened to you folks, and I
wanted to try to at least partly make up for it.  So I got the van and
loaded up."
	Dak began to smile.  "This sounds like Tom.  Was this his idea?"
	"No, sir.  I thought of it.  But I cleared it with Mr. Carlisle, of
course.  He agreed with me that Mr. Tadescu would probably not want to go
back to his old place.  So he said to go for it, as long as I was ready to
take everything back in case I guessed wrong."
	"And you were willing to do that, I guess?"
	"Sure!"
	"Well, that's pretty cool, Bobby.  And call me Dak, okay?  Let's
get started."
	"Oh, I'll unload it while you folks take your run.  If you'll trust
me in your place while you're gone, that is.  I'll hang around 'til you get
back, so you can check everything."
	"No, fella, you've done plenty already.  Matter of fact, you look
kind of like you've been up all night.  Guess you must have been, at that,
to get all this stuff loaded."
	"No, sir.  I caught a nap in the truck while I was waiting for you
all to wake up.
	"That's about what I figured.  Look, you come on in and have some
breakfast.  I'm gonna call my brother to come and help unload.  I've got a
lot to catch him up on anyway.  We'll unload when he gets here.  Okay with
you, Ion?"
	"Everything is okay with me, today.  Thank you very much Mr. Shale.
That was a very nice gesture.  Even though I told you last night there is
no debt between us."
	"Please, just call me Bobby," Shale said, shyly.
	"Yes.  When you call me Ion."
	"Hey!  Guys!  Let's eat!"  Dak herded the others into the house.


	Widdie brought Wu, who just happened to be at his apartment when
the call came.  They had eaten, but were happy to take another cup of
coffee with the other men.  Bobby was surprised and delighted to find that
Dak's "brother" was his old friend and model, Russ Widdoes.  And he was
instantly charmed by Widdie's grinning sidekick, and by the obvious bonding
that existed between the two men.
	Over coffee, Dak and Ion filled the others in on the events of the
night before, ending with the news that Ion and Dak were now a couple, and
the van out front held Ion's things that awaited their man-muscle to tote
and carry.
	"Bro!"  Widdie threw Dak a high-five, and at the same time Wu
caught Ion up in his arms and whirled him around in the air, both of them
laughing with pleasure.
	Unloading Ion's belongings took little time, even with the laughter
and horsing around.  In a short while the five men sat wherever they could
find a spot in the now crowded living room.  They shared a final coffee.
Widdie was unusually quiet.
	"Something wrong, Brother?"  Dak asked.
	"No.  Uh, uh.  I was just thinking.  Just wondering if there's
anybody in this room," he paused, looked at Wu, "who knows any reason why
Dennis Wu shouldn't move in with Russell Widdoes?"
	Wu looked up, startled.  Slowly a radiant smile broke over his
face.  He stood and walked into Widdie's waiting arms.  Several moments
later they broke apart.  Widdie turned to Shale with a grin.  "Borrow your
truck, Bobby?"

	Tonight's meeting at the HardTop was short.  Twill had carried on
through the day in a satisfactory manner.  Carlisle gave him instructions
for the following day and excused him after a short session.  Seeing that
Bobbie was out on his feet, Carlisle said, "Would you like to spend the
night with me?"  Shale pushed aside his weariness and agreed at once.
	Later, in Tom Carlisle's bed, Bobby lay with his face nestled in
the mat of hair that covered Carlisle's chest.  The older man held him
close.  Still they refrained from sexual activity.  Bobby was just as glad.
He trusted that the time would come.
	"You've done very well, Bobby," Carlisle said in a low voice.  "I'm
proud of you."
	Bobby Shale fell asleep smiling.