Date: Thu, 15 Oct 1998 03:13:05 -0400
From: Jamie Anderson <JamieAnderson@compuserve.com>
Subject: Ole Gorges's Tale III

			      The Nerdy bit.

This story is fiction and contains quite explicitly described sex
scenes between, more or less, consenting males. For those of you who
find this sort of thing offensive I would normally refer you to
http://www.disney.com/ but alas after the Gay Days they have been
having at Disney World no doubt your nose would be put out of joint
there too. 

For those of you who are underage and reading this, what can I say?
"Hone these hacking skills my boy, one day you might just make a
living from them."

Comments and criticism are welcomed at the Email address mentioned.
Any suggestions for outlines for future stories are also welcome.
Flames however will incur the "Curse of the Internet".
 
			       The Dungeon.

I did not really want to discuss the pros and cons of being a slave.
Neither did I want to go over the finer details of what would be
happening in the dungeon. All I wanted to do was get back to my lunch
and enjoy it. There is always a good way to change the conversation,
get the other guy to talk about himself. So, like a fool, I asked how
he was getting on at medical school.

Let me a little time out and give you some advice at this point.
Never, under any circumstances, ask a first year medical student what
he is doing at school. Because he will tell you in great detail. He is
learning anatomy and histology. Four of the little darlings are in a
team dissecting the body of some poor unfortunate who was foolish
enough to donate his, or her, body to science. Apparently they are
assisted, in the dissection of the head, by an additional two, would
be, dentists.

When it comes to discussing his schooling your average medical student
regresses about ten or so years and becomes the little boy who has
just discovered how to gross out grownups, but unlike a little boy, he
is now very proficient at it. Somehow we never got round to discussing
histology.

So when he started asking questions about what was going to happen
later in the dungeon it was almost a relief to get the subject
changed.


"But why are they bringing him here?" he asked.

"Well, convenience really. We are about halfway between where Arnold
lives and where Handy Andy lives, and Max has all the equipment they
will need", I said, dreading the next question.

"What are they going to do to him?" he asked.

What the hell, in for a penny, in for a pound. "His training is
complete, he is broken, as they say", I started.

"What do you mean by `broken'?" he interrupted.

"Broken-in, I suppose. He now obeys orders, knows his place, doesn't
speak unless spoken to, that sort of thing", I answered, failing to
mention that he have any will of his own anymore. Then continued, "In
any event Arnold has sold him to an Arab. So he is having Handy Andy
er..." I dribbled out.

Shit I was losing it again. John was getting his kicks from my
embarrassment. Fuck it! I decided to see if he could be grossed out.
"Make him slack enough for his new Master. Some of these Arabs are
rather well hung."

"You mean he is bring him all the way here to have his ring fingered?"
he asked.

I shook my head and lifted my right hand. Separating my index, ring
and middle fingers I enclosed them with the fingers of my left hand.
"That is what you took last night", I said. 

"Now this is what he'll be getting", I said releasing my fingers and
slowly curling my right hand into a fist. John went pure white.

"He, he can't take that, it'd kill him", he stuttered.

"Well that is where Handy Andy comes in. From what Max has told me
over the years he is the best fist fucker in the business. He can
slacken a guy up in no time at all. Then apparently they stick in a
butt plug for a week or so and the result is more or less permanent. 

They are coming here because Andy likes his, victim, er customer, to
be completely immobilised, if it's the first time. Just in case he
panics and injures himself trying to escape", I said. 

Personally I like Ole George to do most of the long term slackening of
my bedmates, but each to his own I suppose.

That seemed to do the trick because John shut up and ate his lunch for
a while. Then he asked, "But we can we watch?"

"I suppose so. But you better not eat anything directly before it", I
replied.

Lunch finished he decided that the cat door must be installed so that
the cat, if and when it arrived, would feel welcome.

So feeling like a bit of an idiot I got out my tools, cut a hole in
the backdoor and fitted the cat door for the mythical moggie.
Apparently it would not be offended by entering by the tradesman's
entrance.

The electronic chime sounded. "Looks like we have company", I said.

Perhaps I should explain. I am not really paranoid, but living about a
mile from what passes for a road, in my neck of the woods, I like to
know when I'm about to have visitors. When I had moved in I had a
second telephone line and Telex fitted. The GPO, the Telephone
Company, had removed the old bare wires on insulators and run a
multi-wire cable down the pole route to the farm.

After they left I investigated and found several spare pairs in the
cable. Two of those I commandeered for my own use. A careful observer
would have noticed that the cable had been spliced down near the main
road. The branch from the splice ran down the pole and entered a
rather insignificant box mounted about 3 feet from the foot of the
pole.

Further inspection would have turned up a small reflector, mounted
about the same height, on the trunk of a tree on the opposite side of
the drive. Between the two a beam of light pulsed back and forth.
Anything breaking that light beam sounded the electronic chime. So I
was always ready for guests.

I know that I really should have told him to go and get dressed
properly. But the sight of him running around in a T-shirt that was
far too big for him rang my chimes, so I left things as they were.

We watched the car as it approached and we were waiting at the door as
they arrived. "Now remember, no matter what happens, you do not freak
out. Got it?" I admonished John. "If it gets too much just give me the
nod and we will quietly leave. Oh and if anyone plays grab ass with
you don't scream, it only encourages them. Just tell me and I'll stop
them from going too far."

He nodded but I knew he wasn't really listening. He was more excited
at the thought of being able to watch the dungeon being used properly.

Max was the first out of the car. As I said he is into leather in a
big way. Mind you I rather think that the leather gear now serves a
double function these days, the second one being that of a corset. In
the years I have known him he had put on quite a bit of weight.

"Good God Nick, I didn't know that you were into chicken? And oven
ready too, by the looks of him!" By a way of greeting Max ran a hand
up the back of the T-shirt John was wearing and fondled his buns. "A
hairy little beggar, isn't he?"

"Get your filthy hands off him, you dirty old bugger. I don't want
motorcycle oil in all that fur, It'll be hell to get it clean." I
replied. Max and I go back a long way.

Next out of the car was Handy Andy. He is a small, quiet guy of
indeterminate age. He always moves quite carefully and methodically.
Now some people see him as slow, however if you observe properly you
will notice that he never has to go back and correct any mistakes. He
shook hands with me then I introduced him to John. He looked John over
with a critical eye and made the poor lad shiver.

>From the driver's side Arnold emerged. He is one of the few guys who
is tall enough to look me straight in the eye. He is ramrod straight
and has what they call a "military bearing". Everyone has a slight
urge to call him "sir" and I have seen soldiers in the street
straighten up and salute him as he passed.

He walked round the back of the car and opened the passenger door and
reached in. I was watching John's reactions out of the corner of my
eye, as the slave emerged. This one wore a rather thick dog collar,
complete with studs, round his neck attached to this was a leash. The
other end of which was in Arnold's hand. That was the sum total of his
clothing. As he was buck-naked it was quite easy to see that apart
from the short black hair on his head the rest of his had been shaved
off. He was in his early twenties and had a good body. Two other
things caught the eye. He had an erection and his eyes never left the
ground as Arnold led him over.

John's reactions were limited to a very sharp intake of breath and
getting a grip on my arm that was so tight I feared for my
circulation.

Arnold, as ever, kept the introductions brief and courteous. He gave
John the once over and grinned at me. "You'll have a hell of a time
keeping this one properly shaved," he joked. Then we trooped off to
the dungeon. 

I watched the Boy as he was led in just to see the effect the place
had on him. I was totally disappointed; his eyes never left the piece
of ground that was directly in front of him. Max went straight to the
frame and roared with laughter. "Now who's been playing with my toys?"
he asked.

John went red and buried his face in my chest. I laughed it off
saying, "John just wanted to see how it worked, so I demonstrated it
to him.
"I'll bet. On him more like", said Max adjusting it for its next
occupant. When this was done Arnold led the Boy over and he was
quickly strapped in. A few touches of the buttons and he was rotated
through ninety degrees and now lay face down in the spread-eagled
position about table height off the floor. Handy Andy now joined them
and they calmly discussed the slave as if he was an animal Arnold had
just bought. 

I found this scary and John was beginning to shake.

"Want to leave already", I whispered in his ear.

He vigorously shook his head.

"What is his name?" he whispered back.

"He doesn't have one. They usually react to `Boy', maybe his Master
will give him one later" I answered.

"I want to fuck him"; this came out fierce whisper.

"What?" I said, a little too loud. This really wrong footed me. I
thought John was ready to run, in fact he was all for joining in.

"What chance will I ever have of fucking you when you are in that
machine?" he asked, keeping his voice down.

"Zero!" I answered without pausing for thought.

"Well then he is my only chance, isn't he?" he said.

"Then you will have to ask Arnold", I said in a normal voice.

The other conversation stopped and all eyes were on us. Arnold
beckoned and John walked right over to him. God I wish I knew how
Arnold could do that.

"And what is it you want to ask me, John-boy?" said Arnold fixing John
with those eyes. The addition of the suffix "boy" riled me slightly.
It felt like Arnold was setting his sights on John and I felt the
strange sensation of being protective of the lad.

John went red but some of the ribbing that I had given him earlier
about asking for things must have worked for with a clear voice he
said, "May I fuck your Boy, Sir?"

The change that came over Arnold was astonishing. One moment he was
the absolute authoritarian, then in the blink of an eye he was that
fun Uncle who always allowed you to do things your parents forbade you
to do. The one who would take you to the Fair and let you go on all
the rides you wanted, buy you all the junk food you could eat. Only
his body language told me it was all an act. So that's how he got his
new recruits.

Arnold's hand dropped and came up with the hem of the T-shirt. "Well
lad if you can find your cock in all that hair, I suppose that you
can", he laughed.

"Boy, a little furry teddy bear is going to fuck you", he said
releasing John's T-shirt. "Now let's see if you can show these
gentlemen your new skills. You have thirty seconds." The edge came
back on his voice as he spoke to the Boy.

John scooted round the back of the slave. Max lowered the legs can
adjusted the torso to be slightly tilted then brought it all lower
until it was the correct height for John. He chucked a tube of KY to
John and we all stood round in a circle to watch the show. "Please
God", I thought, "don't let him start by rimming the slave."

Mercifully he just greased the Boy up. Then with no thought of
foreplay entered him. He was obviously was going to attempt to repeat
the "hands off" fuck that I had given him. Given the circumstances it
was a good a choice, as good as any that I would have made. However
things didn't quite go as John planned. Although the Boy was quite
firmly strapped to the frame he could flex his buttocks and wriggle
quite a bit. 

Arnold had really taught him well. John began gasping and moaning and
was clearly losing control fast. About ten seconds into the fuck the
slave was obviously running things. Arnold smiled quietly. At twenty
seconds the Boy let out a groan. Although no one had touched his cock
it now sprayed his seed onto the dungeon floor. God alone knows what
the effect felt like for John, for he just grabbed the boys hips and
held on, it was most obvious that he was shooting his wad. 

"Well done. Boy", said Arnold in sort of voice you use when a pet dog
has performed a trick perfectly. "You shall be rewarded."

I was wondering what form the reward would take when John returned to
my side. He was shaking and breathless. "I made him cum, just by
fucking him, I never touched his cock!" he whispered in my ear with
some pride. 

I didn't have the heart to tell him that Max had told me that Arnold's
slaves are conditioned to cum during anal sex. Apparently, at first,
he always keeps their cocks stimulated when they are being fucked.
Gradually the two forms of stimulation merge in their minds and
gradually only the anal stimulation is necessary to achieve orgasm.
According to Max the Masters get a big ego boost by having a slave cum
when they fuck them. Looking at the state of John I could well believe
it.

The other three resumed their conversation and finally Andy nodded.
Two moved back to join us and watch the show. Max standing next to
John and surreptitiously running his hand up the back of the T-shirt
while Arnold stood apart from out little trio. When Max had had the
dungeon built he has specified a shower in one corner. For some
reason, nativity I suppose, I had assumed that this was to be used to
clean everyone up afterwards. As usual I was wrong. 

Andy manipulated the controls until the Boy was in the sitting upright
position, Then he carefully explained to the Boy that he was going to
be cleaned out. Andy removed the showerhead and attached an extension
pipe. This terminated in a thin metal rod that was perforated with
holes. He turned on the water and it poured rather than squirted out
of the holes. Having adjusted the temperature he then walked back to
the Boy and inserted it into his ass. "Try to take as much as you can
but tell me if you get any pain", he instructed the Boy.

I swear to God that the moment the pipe went up his ring he got an
erection. I heard a murmur of approval from Arnold. We stood and
watched as Andy held the pipe in place. Eventually the Boy's stomach
began to distend and he gasped. 

"Now?" asked Andy. 

The Boy shook his head.

Then again he gasped.

Andy looked at him but once more he shook his head. Andy looked
questioningly at Arnold who just shrugged his shoulders. 

The Boy finally groaned and nodded. Andy withdrew the tube, the Boy
sighed with relief as everything shot out of him and went straight
down the drain. It took Andy three goes until the water that came out
was clean enough for his liking. John was shaking again and I was
using all my control to pretend to be the big brave soldier who was
unmoved by it all. Arnold's only reaction seemed to be satisfaction
that his slave was doing him proud. Max was getting his rocks off.

Andy returned the Boy to the position he has been in when John fucked
him. He then went round to the front and once more carefully explained
to the Boy exactly what was going to be done to him. Max found the can
of Crisco and handed it over. Watching Andy work I now knew why Max
imported this stuff in catering packs. The word "sparingly" did not
appear in Andy's lexicon. The stuff was carefully and liberally
applied to both hands. Even in between the fingers was greased up.
Then he began packing it into the Boy's ass. He was actually managing
to get lumps of it pushed in.

When he was satisfied with his work he began fingering the Boy. This
procedure went quite quickly, as the Boy was not exactly a virgin.
However, after Andy's little finger joined its big brothers inside the
Boy's ring, things slowed down. Andy just kept moving his hand in and
out then round and round. With no warning at all, he pulled back
slightly curled his thumb into the palm of his hand and pushed. 

Oh my God his whole hand slid in! 

The Boy gasped, but seemed to be in no pain. Andy stopped for a
moment. "John-boy", said Arnold, "turning into the indulgent Uncle and
making my hackles rise, "Would you like to help us for a moment?"

Arnold looked at me and said, "Oh it's all right Nick, no harm will
come to the lad. He's just looking a bit off colour, it would be
better if he took part in the proceedings." Then slipping his arm
round John's shoulders he lead him across to the Boy, "Now John-boy,
you like sucking cock, don't you", he said as if he was asking his
favourite nephew if he liked ice cream. 

John nodded. 

Arnold reached down and closed the cover over the drain and motioned
John to sit on it so he was positioned for a 69 directly under the
frame. "Well you see lad, the Boy is going to get quite a lot of
stimulation soon. This will make him want to cum. So your job is to
suck on his cock every time it gets hard until he cums. Understand?"
he asked. 

John nodded again.

"And if you can make him come five times or more Andy may have a
special treat for you. Am I right Andy?"

Andy smiled and nodded. John wrapped his lips round the hairless cock
of the slave as Andy balled his hand into a fist and began slowly
moving it.

Andy worked quite methodically driving his fist up and down the inside
of the Boy. To my amazement the Boy seemed to be in no pain, the only
time he cried out was when he had an orgasm and John dutifully sucked
his cock dry and swallowed his seed.

After the third orgasm Andy appeared to be taking a break. He removed
his hand from the Boy's ass and went back to fingering him. At first
this seemed to me to be a retrograde step, then I noticed that the
other hand was joining in. within a short period no less than eight
fingers were wriggling around inside the Boy's ring. What happened
next I'm not exactly sure. But the Boy grunted and began to have an
orgasm. One hand was inside him when he started and two were then when
he finished.

"As neatly done as I've ever seen. Excellent job." said Arnold then
turning to the Boy he ruffled what little hair the lad had and said,
"Good Boy, we're almost finished."

Watching two forearms slide in and out of the bound slave's ass was
having its effects on me. One half of me wanted to scream and run out
of the place. The other half, Ole George's bit, wanted to fuck ass.
John was going to be one gravely misused lad before we got any sleep
tonight.

Andy kept up the pressure on the Boy until he decided that his work
was done. One hand slid out, the boy sighed. Removing the second hand
Andy kept his fist balled and pulled it out slowly. The Boy once more
cried out. Then what little was left in his balls made its way down
John's eager throat.

"Well done everyone. Now come here John-boy and see what we've got for
you." said Arnold helping John out from under the slave.

Andy took John's right hand and carefully inspected the fingernails.
Then he slapped wads of Crisco on it. "Now lad, curl your hand up like
this", he demonstrated, "and gently slide it in until his ring is
round your wrist." John complied.

"Good now slowly make a fist, done it?"

John nodded.

"Now fuck him, but no further than your elbow."

"Wow! Do you know what this feels like?" John asked me. Dumbly I shook
my head. This had never really been my scene before. However it seemed
to be turning John on. It looked like he might be sliding down that
slippery slope and pulling me after him.

When John withdrew and came back to me, Arnold went over to the line
of dildos and summoned Andy. Between them they selected one. It was
big, not impossibly big, but I would not like to take it up me. Andy
returned to the Boy, greased up the dildo and slid it in. The Boy
sighed. Andy looked questioningly at Arnold. 

"Perfect", said Arnold.

Andy removed the dildo and returned to the line of toys, towards what
I call the ridiculous end, and selected a butt plug. The head of it
was wide but so was the neck. All the butt plugs that I had seen up
till then had not had wide necks. He greased it up, inserted it and
the Boy took it without comment.

"Now Boy, unless I tell you otherwise, you will only remove that plug
to have a crap, and when you do you will replace it as soon as
possible. Understand?" said Arnold, all traces of the nice uncle
figure gone.

"Yes Master", these were the only two words I ever heard the slave
say.

The show being over the slave was released and told to shower. Andy
and John got the grease of themselves and we all retired upstairs for
a drink. Everyone but me was on beer and Arnold even allowed the Boy
to have one, as his reward. He sat on the floor between the feet of
Arnold and gratefully sipped it.

I watched him carefully. His body language radiated contentment. He
was not afraid, he was at peace. It was very weird indeed. I could not
make head or tail of it. Max noticed my confusion and motioned me to
come into the kitchen with him.

"I suppose that you are going to go all moral on me?" he started.

"No, I'm just confused. The boy is young, good looking, nice body, he
should have a life of his own not be someone's sex toy." I said.

"Hmm, you didn't examine his wrists, did you?"

I shook my head. 

"There are scars on them, from when he tried to slash his wrists. For
some reason he could not cope with life. He couldn't form
relationships with others. Making decisions scares him. He couldn't
hold a job for any length of time. Eventually he ended up on the
streets, sleeping rough, that's when tried to top himself. As a human
being he was a total failure and society had rejected him. Then Arnold
found him. Now you may disapprove of what Arnold does, but now at
least the Boy has a purpose in life, he enjoys it, his needs are taken
care of, and most of all he feels secure. Perhaps for the first time
in his life." Max said.

I just shook my head, fucking the ass off other guys I could
understand; fucking their minds scared me.

By now the party was over and the visitors all trooped out to the car.
The Boy, still naked, was placed between Andy and Max in the back
whilst Max drove. We stood seeing them off; I was directly behind John
with my arms round his shoulders. 

He looked up at me, grinned and said, "That Max is a fast worker. He
kept putting his hand on my ass and most of the time he had a couple
of fingers inside me."

"There will be more than a couple of fingers inside you in a minute",
I said lifting an arm to wave.

"Then you'll have to catch me first", he said wriggling from my grasp
and making a dive back through the door.

My long legs and fast reflexes made sure that he never made it beyond
the hall. I had played Rugby at school. The thought of being able to
put my head between two hunky asses had been a turn on. In any event
the training was now put to good use. I brought him to the floor with
a flying tackle. Using my weight to hold his giggling body pinned to
the floor I used my hands to free Ole George from his confines.

Once he was out it was a simple matter to spit on my hand by way of
lubricating him. Then guiding him to his target was easy.

"This is rape!' John managed to gasp through the giggling.

"Yup and I'm not letting you go until you have made Ole George happy",
I grunted as Old George made his way back up that now familiar
passage.

It was a wild fuck. The kid tried everything to escape. He was getting
better and almost made it couple of times. I didn't try to lock him in
place, as that would have been no fun. So we were still wrestling on
the floor when Ole George blew off deep inside John's ass. The events
of the evening must have affected me more than I realised as Ole
George kept on pumping for an age. 

I collapsed, limp on top of him and we lay there, not speaking for a
long time. Eventually I dragged myself off him, closed the front door,
pulled him to his feet and we headed for the shower. 

Now males have the strange habit of peeing where they're not supposed
to pee. I assume it goes back to territorial marking or something like
that. Some guys will pee in the wash basin when there is a toilet bowl
right next to it. Others do it in the bath or swimming pool. Me? I am
quite happy to let Ole George empty my bladder in the shower. So I was
happily letting go when John cried out and made a dive for Ole George.
This kid was rapidly turning into a pervert I though as he sucked me
dry. 

It was fairly obvious that the kid was horny so when we dried off I
took him to the bedroom and chucked him on the bed. He landed on his
back.
 
"Can I fuck you?" he asked.
 
"Only in your dreams", I said locking his hands behind his back.
 
"But you let me last night", he pointed out.
 
"It was a moment of weakness", I said wrapping my thick soft lips
round the end of his cock and using them to push back his foreskin.
 
"No", he said, struggling again, "I want to screw you."
 
I laughed round his cock and slid my middle finger into his ring.
There, mid the slickness of my spent cum, I found his prostate, it was
already hard. He began to struggle in earnest. This time I locked him
in place and began to massage his hot spot with my finger. He gave up
the fight and began to fuck my mouth. The excitement of the earlier
incidents seemed to have affected him too, because suddenly my mouth
was filling with wad after wad of his seed. He tasted so good that I
kept on sucking until he was pleading for me to stop.
 
We cleaned up, yet again, and went to the kitchen to make dinner. Just
as we were about to sit down to eat John opened a tin of cat food and
emptied it onto a saucer, which he placed on the floor along with a
small bowl of water. I sighed and rolled my eyes heavenwards. He just
grinned.
 
Now I do pride myself on my cooking. I even took a course on the
subject. So it was with some satisfaction that I watched John tuck
into his food. Fishing for compliments I asked if I was a better cook
than his mother was. He gave a lopsided grin and said, "Different"
 
Although it was Saturday evening I was too bushed to go out. John made
no objections to staying in so we curled up on the settee and watched
some TV. It was quite pleasant just lying there cuddling him not
having sex, just body contact. So I lay there thinking, ignoring the
inane babble from the haunted fish tank. 
 
In the last two days my life had been altered drastically. For
example; me, staying in on a Saturday night, just for a cuddle in
front of the TV? If you were to put this idea to any of my friends
they would have laughed themselves silly at the very thought of it.
For me, of late, Saturday night was off round the clubs and bars until
I picked some guy up, then back to bed for an all night romp. Sundays
were for a second session then getting rid of him. Now here I was with
the same guy two nights in a row and not wanting him to leave. Slowly
the concept of life without John was becoming less and less real.
 
My reflections were interrupted by a sound that was both unfamiliar
and recognisable. The cat door went, "flip-flop". We both started and
looked towards the door leading to the hall. The cat had arrived! 
 
Right from the word go the cat behaved strangely. Put a cat in a new
house and it normally spends ages creeping round very nervously
smelling everything. This one ran straight over and jumped up first on
John uttering a cross between a purr and a miaow. They touched noses
and the cat sniffed several times. The cat then hopped over to me and
did the same. My nose received a swift lick and the cat jumped up on
my shoulder and settled down.
 
He was a sort of "short wheel-base" cat, in that he did not have a
long body. He was most obviously male, how he could sit down without
doing himself a nasty I do not know. In other respects he was a black
and white street cat and I would estimate about 6 months old.
 
"Let's call him Tinker", said John.
 
"Why Tinker?" I said, as casually as I could. Well I didn't want to
let the shock of the cat's arrival show.
 
"Well Tinker for short, his real name will be Tinkerbell."
 
"I though Tinkerbell was a fairy"
 
"Yup one who used to listen to conversations, then report back. All
for the best mind you." he concluded.
 
"We had better get a cat box", I said. 
 
"Oh he'll go outside to do his business. He will also not scratch the
furniture, steal food, shred houseplants, unroll the toilet paper,
shed hair or beg for food at table", said John with an air of
certainty.
 
"How are you so sure?" I asked
 
"Mother would never permit it", he said as though that explained
everything.
 
"What has you mother got to do with it?" I asked. Once I get the bit
between my teeth there is no stopping me.
 
"Well she sent him"; he said. It sounded quite logical the way he said
it.
 
"Your mother sent the cat here?" 
 
"Yes of course she did."
 
"Why?"
 
"For protection, mainly" he said, but the last word was said darkly.
 
"Ok let us run through this one more time, just to make sure that I've
got it right. The cat is here because your mother sent it to protect
you?" I said. Every time the conversation turned to his mother, cats
or both, reason took wings and flew out of the window.
 
He laughed. "My protection? I don't need any cat for protection. The
cat is here to look after you."
 
"Two pounds of cat is going to protect a full grown hairy assed man
the likes of me?" I asked, "May I inquire how?"
 
"Yes he is here to protect you, and as to how, well you really do not
want to know the answer." He replied.
 
"Meanwhile you, half my size and weight, need no protection?" this was
getting more ludicrous by the minute.
 
"Oh I have protection, it just isn't a cat. Since I am her only son,
she placed a charm on me at birth. Trouble tends to avoid me and
anyone who does pick on me, er, sort of has a lot of bad luck", he
concluded lamely.

"Quit while you're ahead Nick, me boy." I thought. "He's a nice lad, a
wonderful fuck, you like having him around, but on some subjects he's
barking mad. So he wants a cat as a pet, let him have one." 

But, as we shall see, I was wrong, the cat was mine and every word
that he had uttered was the truth.

To Be Continued.